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highvern · 7 months

Text

Discovery

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x fem reader

Genre: smut, friends to lovers, established relationship

Warnings: kissing, groping, dry humping, oral (m. receiving, f. implied), dirty talk, dom/sub dynamics but they’re both actually switches (Mingyu is a service top), multiple orgasms (m. receiving), cumshot, mentions of butt stuff, Mingyu is obsessed with titties, pearl necklace, spitting, cum eating (kinda), minor hair pulling, praise kink and strength kink go burrrrrr, Mingyu is a simp that loves his gf, his gf is a gremlin though he does threaten to lock her in a closet at one point but he kinda has point, they’re both horny that’s all I can say

Length: ~2.5k

Note: not a direct part 2 of Drunk Goggles ! but same couple set a few months in the future :) they’re in love and obsessed with each other. If there are any spelling errors ignore them, I don’t respect the English language <3

MDNI! if I look at your blog and there isn’t an age indicator you’ll be blocked read more here

“Permission to be horny?” Mingyu mutters, lips still connected to the spot on your neck he likes to claim whenever granted the opportunity.

“Hmmmm,” You pretend to think. “I’ll allow it.”

“I really, really, really want to fuck you.” He punctuates his statement by trailing his hands down to your ass, palming the plush flesh and pulling you down harder on his clothed cock.

“I’ll definitely allow that.” You sigh, hand twisting in the short locks of hair on your boyfriend’s head.

His hips cant against yours when you arch into him, pulling the seam of your jeans just right against your clit. Mingyu is good at this. He’s good at most things, but sex is something he excels at; especially when it comes to sex with you.

You’ve never had a partner so open about their desires. Mingyu has no shame, bursting at the seams to let you know how much he wants you, needs you in moments like these. His forwardness makes you blush like a schoolgirl with a crush, and it certainly doesn’t help that he looks like that.

But as hot and sexy as your man is, he is still an incredibly huge klutz. You realize you’re falling off the couch before he does, mostly due to the fact Mingyu is planted firmly below you with his face buried in your chest. His obsession with your boobs is almost comical (and has gotten you out of more spats than you can count when you flash him in the heat of an argument) but it shuts down his brain.

“Oh shit!” You squeal, tumbling to the plush carpet. Nothing bruised except your dignity.

“What the fuck?” Mingyu calls after you, confused to find cool air rushing in where the heat of your body occupied.

All you can do is laugh, eyes covered by the crook of your elbow. You don’t see the way your boyfriend looks at you with love filling his eyes (and his dick). Or the way your chest shakes as you laugh, causing your tits to bounce with the sound of your cackling.

Your laughter dies in your throat, transforming into a hum when you feel Mingyu’s body cover your own, picking up right where he left off by taking your left nipple in his mouth, torturing the flesh with his tongue and teeth.

“Fuck, babe.” You whine pathetically. Hands moving to the waistband of his pants, fisting the material in an effort to get him naked.

His hips are cradled between your thighs, his erection hot and hard in his pants. When you plant your feet on the ground and grind against him, Mingyu sucks harder and uses a free hand to snare your wrists and trap them above your head.

“Be good.” He warns. Mingyu's attempt at domination falls flat because you know the only promise on the other side of it is that he’ll cream his pants before he gets his fill of you.

“I can be really good if you let me go.” You whisper, pushing your chest up into his face.

“Yeah?” He questions hopefully, unable to help that he’s a sucker for everything you do.

“Mhmm, want you in my mouth Gyu.”

Mingyu doesn’t respond sans the slow grind of his hips against your core, letting you feel all of him. He detaches from your nipple to bite across your chest once more, the echo of burning kisses left in his wake.

“Please, baby.” You press. “Wanna taste you.”

He might be the man of your dreams but Mingyu is still a guy. So when a beautiful woman (you) begs to suck him off, who is he to deny that experience? It’s a selfless act of him really.

Mingyu slides off you, giving you room to prop yourself up. You take him in. His hair is wild from your pulling, short tufts pointing every which way. His naked chest is flushed and heaving like your own. When your eyes trail south, his abs clench under your heated gaze. It's impossible to ignore how the movement makes his dick bob in his sweatpants, leaving nothing to the imagination.

“Sit on the couch.” You demand when your eyes meet again.

Having you boss him around gets Mingyu hotter than he’ll admit (to anyone except you). He knows most people assume he’s the one who calls the shots in the bedroom; Seungcheol had cracked one too many jokes about it for him to be unaware. And occasionally Mingyu does, twisting you into whatever position is stuck in his head or telling you to touch yourself while he watches from the end of the bed and jerks off. The glint in your eye when he bends you over the kitchen counter to stuff you with his cock tells him you like it too. But the second you command him to do anything, Mingyu folds like a house of cards.

You’re not unaware of how much he likes it but it leaves you in awe every time he scrambles to do what you say. Right now, he’s tripping out of his pants and underwear as he hops on to the cushions. You thank whatever powers may be that you don’t have a roommate to consider when fucking your ridiculously hot boyfriend on every surface of the apartment (especially when Mingyu’s attempt at fucking you in the bathroom ended with cum on the mirror on several occasions but thats a story for another time).

The hand circling your jaw distracts from your goal as mouths meet. Mingyu is bent over at the waist above you, tongue tracing hotly against your lower lip. You subtly push him back into the plush upholstery, propping yourself up on your knees, hands gripping his thighs to press further into his space. With Mingyu distracted, you let one of your hands drop to circle the scorching rigid flesh at the base of his cock.

“Fuuuu–ck,” he groans into your mouth but doesn’t breakaway. As much as he wants your mouth on his dick, Mingyu really does love kissing you. Probably because he spent months thinking about it and now he actually gets to do it as much as he wants.

“Yeah?” You echo his previous words. When your thumb traces the leaking tip to spread his pre-cum he moans again.

“Yeah.” he mumbles, nodding his head in affirmation.

When you’re finally able to pull away from his lips without protest in the form of him chasing you, you descend to mouth down his neck and chest. Your boyfriend is all hot skin and taunt muscle under your ministrations, shaking breath causing his chest to lurch when your teeth scrap his nipple. Your breasts brush purposely against Mingyu’s cock as you sink lower, his head goes fuzzy and tips back. The soft pass of skin plants ideas in his head about the day you’ll let him cum on your chest. You’re already enthusiastic when he comes on the swell of your ass or in your mouth. But the visual of you covered in his spunk, chin and nipples glistening white and skin flushed flashes in his vision. Mingyu opens his eyes and starts tracing patterns across the ceiling in hopes it prevents him from making it a premature reality.

You're not much better off. The contrast of his rigid length against the soft flesh of your chest has arousal gushing from your cunt. The thought of Mingyu finishing on your skin always makes you wet. Something about your incredibly sweet and polite boyfriend being incredibly filthy with you makes your chest heave. The first time he came on your ass you had him fuck you again while it cooled between your cheeks. It was also the first time Mingyu played with that hole, found out cum and spit made decent lube, and how you cum insanely hard if he thumbs the taunt ring of muscle while he fucks you stupid on his cock.

If you had lube you’d entertain the idea of letting him fuck your tits but you know the chaff without it isn’t worth it for either of you. Instead, you let the tip of your tongue trace the bulbous head of his cock, the tang flooding your taste buds. You’re doing nothing more than teasing him but the way he’s leaking against your tongue tells you he loves it.

When you back away just enough to spit on it, a rush of breath leaves his nose as your saliva dribbles across his frenulum and you smirk. Mingyu is so fucking easy.

Since the first time you two fooled around, you’ve discovered all the ways to get him whiny and desperate, memorizing his favorites with impressive speed. Mingyu likes it wet and messy, spit and cum glossing your lips and chin, dripping in his lap to pool at the base of his dick. He prefers when you use your mouth to focus on the head of his cock, but he’ll never complain if you use a hand to jerk him off in tandem. When you’re going to play with his balls, he moans when you fondle and whimpers when you give a gentle squeeze. If you meet his eye when your lips are stretched around his cock, he’ll blush like a virgin who hasn’t fucked you six ways from Sunday. And if you let Mingyu cum in your mouth, he’ll go down on you till you're shaking and he’s hard enough to fuck you right.

Tonight you try your best to give him a top notch performance. It helps that every detail about having Mingyu like this gets you hot in the best ways. Enjoying giving as much as he enjoys receiving. Having him wrapped around your finger makes you whine along with him, sharing in his pleasure like it’s your own.

The vibrations from your soft moans and whimpers do nothing except stretching Mingyu’s resolve thinner and thinner. Tangling his hands in your hair, he gently guides you back and forth, mostly taking the strain off your neck rather than enforcing your rhythm. The tug against your scalp satisfies you all the same.

“Fuck, baby,” he cries. “So good, fuck. So fucking good.”

A harsh suck causes his dick to exit your mouth with a lewd pop before it smacks against his tummy. Mingyu is quick to grab his cock, fisting himself before tapping against your lips for re-entry. You just stare from under your lashes, eyes wet from the prodding against the back your throat, only allowing gentle kisses to the soaking flesh.

“Open your mouth.” His words may seem dominant, but the whiny tone betrays his desperation.

You continue to sit there, allowing your nails to dig into the skin of his thighs, mixing a volatile cocktail of pain and pleasure. When his other hand unravels from your hair to pry your jaw open with his thumb, you can’t help the whimper you release in response to his manhandling as he forces his cock back between your lips.

“Gonna cum?” Your question is garbled from the way he stuffs your mouth full but Mingyu puts two and two together with his limited brain capacity.

“Wanna cum in your mouth,” he begs. “Please, baby.”

When your eyes flutter shut, Mingyu knows he has permission to do what he does best. He starts fucking your mouth in earnest, soaking in the sounds of you gagging and choking around his cock as practically humps your face. If you want his come he’ll give it to you in spades, he’ll drain himself until he’s on the verge of passing out if that’s what’ll make you happy.

It only takes a minute before you feel him twitch against your lips and the hot rush coats your tongue, dripping down your throat as you swallow around him. Mingyu’s hips buck up as he gives you his load, cum seeping out of the corners of your mouth and down your face just the way he loves. You pull away just enough that some of the spray hits your chin and leaks down onto his shaft allowing you to continue to jerk him off as he sings you praises.

In your opinion, the best part about Mingyu is if you keep sucking after he comes, he’ll come again.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” he bites. Mingyu loves you (not that he’s told you) but when you do this he thinks he might have to take away your dick privileges.

You pop your mouth off his cock but your hand doesn’t stop. Thumb swiping at the pearly slit right below your mouth, pushing the remains of his release across the spongy head.

“What baby?” Your brow is furrowed in mock concern, like you have no idea the torture you’re inflicting. “Just want you to cum.”

You’re evil. Pure evil sent from a past life to punish him.

“I have!” He winces. He grips the couch cushions for dear life as stars cloud the edges of his vision.

“But I want you to cum again. Don’t you wanna give me it?”

He can’t breathe.

“Please, Gyu? For me?”

You’re playing him like a damn fool.

“Just wanna feel you to cum on my tits, baby. Please!” You cry.

He’s drowning.

Mingyu’s second orgasm is less dramatic than his first. He’s writhing and shaking from the sensory overload, ass leaving the couch as his hips jerk wildly. His cum is more of a dribble than the sizable spurts you’re accustomed to but you take what he gives you with glee. You jerk him off over your chest, allowing him to paint your skin in white streaks, redden tip rubbing against the puckered flesh of your nipples to get every drop. Mingyu can barely keep his eyes open to enjoy the way you cover yourself in him, how you claim yourself as his in such a primal way.

It’s the gleam in your eyes as you pant below him, nearly drooling at the mess you’ve made that has him giving you one last sputter to trickle between your breast down to your navel.

When you go to mouth at his balls, Mingyu grabs a fist of your hair in reflex to keep himself out of your reach. He gently tugs until you slide your eyes away from his softening dick to his face.

“I will lock you in a closet if you try that again.”

Mingyu knows he sounds ridiculous but you’re insatiable and might actually kill him if you try to touch his dick again.

“You’re no fun.” You pout, unable to hide you’re disappointment when Mingyu refuses to let you play with him.

“Get your ass on this couch and I’ll show you how fun I am.”

Tonight, Mingyu discovers you really like when he collects his cum off your chest with his tongue and spits it in your mouth. You like it even more when he holds you down, pins your wrists at the dip of your spine, and eats it from the back like his life depends on it.

#svt x reader #svthub #kim mingyu x reader #mingyu smut #kim mingyu #svt smut #seventeen smut #kim mingyu smut #🫡 highvern #svt #dghe couple

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augustjustice · 4 months

Text

Chemistry, History, and Shared Trauma

AO3 Link

The day Eddie’s released from the hospital, he’s packed up into Steve’s BMW and driven straight to the Harrington mansion.

The government agents are still in the process of doing the whole song-and-dance routine required to clear Eddie’s name, so laying low is ideal. There hasn’t been time to relocate Wayne to a new trailer–something Owen promises is happening, though Eddie will believe it when he sees it–and a hotel room isn’t really a great place to recover, especially considering the state Eddie finds himself in.

When the question of where exactly he was going to go had come up, Steve had volunteered all too quickly.

“You can stay with me,” he had said, easy as pie, like it was nothing. “My parents aren’t home, and, besides…it’s not like anybody’s going to be looking for you there.”

Though Eddie had tried to protest, quick to say that he didn’t want to put Steve out, his jock savior wouldn’t hear a word of it.

So, the next day, Steve had shown up to the hospital early, signed all the appropriate paperwork, and then wheeled Eddie out into the parking lot whistling some upbeat, poppy tune Eddie didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of recognizing–but still found oddly endearing, in spite of himself.

And that had been that, Steve hauling Eddie’s cane out for him under one arm and his bag of meds in the other once they pull up in front of the Harringtons’ house, ready to put Eddie up in the guest room next to his like he’d belonged there all along.

Eddie’s mobility is still pretty limited–hence the cane and the wheelchair now sitting in the Harrington’s den–but that doesn’t mean he isn’t bold (and stupid) enough to try to make his way up the stairs on his own.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Steve scolds, catching Eddie around the waist as he wavers on his feet a little, clearly being careful of the open wounds on his stomach and torso. “Hold on, just…hold on, man.”

“You got me, big boy?” Eddie teases.

The flirtatious call back is a diversion, an attempt to cover up the embarrassment of having to be this damn reliant on…well, literally everyone around him, but Steve in particular from here on out.

“Yeah. Yeah, I got you,” Steve says, tone nothing less than perfectly sincere.

Eddie deliberately ignores the way his stomach gives a little swoop in response.

So he leans on Steve heavily as they make their way to the next story of the house, close enough to get a faint whiff of Steve’s cologne, a surprisingly sweet mix of amber, vanilla, and something a little fruity tickling his nose. Once they’re finally inside, though, Eddie does manage to hold himself upright long enough for a quick look around, taking in the digs he’s going to be sleeping in.

The room itself is almost sterile in its cleanliness–neat military precious corners on the bed, devoid of the usual clutter Eddie associates with home. The blue floral pattern that covers the walls is bizarrely identical to the fabric of the curtains, the repetition almost comical, when he thinks about the uniformity of all the houses that line the street. It’s the kind of detail that would be called too ‘on the nose,’ if written into a book.

Eddie’s surprised to find a few exceptions to the cold tidiness, however, and even more surprised those exceptions come in the form of a stack of fantasy novels stashed inside the bedside table and a couple of action figures tossed in one corner.

Following his gaze, Steve turns from where he’s ‘tidying up’ what can only be an imaginary mess perceptible to the eyes of babysitting monster hunters and babysitting monster hunters alone, Eddie guesses. He gives Eddie a wry look.

“Dustin stays over sometimes,” he explains, “the other rugrats, too, but it’s still mostly his stuff that winds up here. Leaves his shit all over the place.”

There’s a fondness to Steve’s smile that undercuts the annoyance in his words.

Eddie thinks back to the months and months Dustin spent talking Steve up to him. How even then it never really occurred to him just how close they might be. It’s strange to think, now, that though Eddie’s spent nearly a whole school year as DM for Steve’s nerdy band of babysitting charges, their paths had rarely ever crossed, beyond glimpses and a handful of long forgotten words exchanged, before that nightmare of a Spring Break. Almost like their lives have been running in some kind of strange parallel, fated to collide, without either of them even noticing it.

Eddie’s not exactly sure how to phrase the feeling that comes over him at the thought, so instead he says, “I can’t believe we’re best friends with a fourteen year old, man.”

“God, tell me about it.”

Eddie takes a few stumbling steps forward and sits down on the bed, honestly a bit proud of himself he manages it with as much grace as he does. As he settles in, he catches sight of a small stack of photos splayed out on the bedside, sitting atop what looks to be a photo album.

Though it’s only a brief glimpse, the two visible pictures alone hint at the whole life story no doubt tucked away between glossy pages.

Theres’s Dustin, several years younger than he is now, in a suit shooting the camera his gummy smile and with a hairdo that looks suspiciously like Steve’s own. And a polaroid shows Robin sprawled out on the counter at Scoops Ahoy, company policy be damned and a book in her hand, Steve’s head just in frame as she flips off the camera.

While Steve fusses over him, fluffing his pillows and insisting he go get Eddie something to drink, Eddie can’t help but think he'd sorta like to hear it sometime–Steve Harrington’s life story. Be regaled with tales, from the photos and beyond, now that they’re here together, after the almost end of the world.

He hopes that, maybe, if he’s lucky, Steve will want to tell him some day.

---

The bloodcurdling scream wakes Steve.

He’s out of his room and down the hall in a flash, nail bat quickly snatched out of its hiding place underneath his bed with ease after years of practice.

Even with his heart racing, he’s quiet when he opens the guest bedroom door, not wanting to scare Eddie or alert…anything else that might be lurking inside.

“Eddie,” Steve calls out, whisper soft as he approaches the bed. When he repeats it, it’s a little harsher, more of a hiss, trying to get Eddie’s attention. “Eddie!”

As he draws closer, Steve can see that Eddie is sweating, large droplets visible where they’ve beaded on his forehead, and he’s writhing hard enough in the sheets Steve’s worried he’s going to pop a stitch if he doesn’t stop him soon.

There’s really only one option ahead Steve sees for himself.

So he gets a knee on the mattress and climbs into the bed, wrapping his arms around Eddie to still him. Even as he does it, Steve worries his bottom lip between his teeth, anxious Eddie might fight against the restriction and inadvertently make the situation worse.

But then huge brown eyes fly open, Eddie’s terror reflected plainly as he stares up at Steve.

“Jeez–Christ!” Eddie manages to get out, stuttered and slurred, cutting off when Steve makes a soft shushing sound.

“Hey, man,” Steve murmurs, trying to keep his tone soothing as he gives him a tentative smile, “it’s me. It’s just me. You’re okay, you’re safe.”

He brushes Eddie’s sweaty bangs back from his forehead, a gesture that would be too intimate in any other circumstances, and then just keeps trying to murmur reassuring shit to him, voice low and gentle.

“I’m here, Eds. I’m here.”

Eddie is shaking against him, but he isn’t squirming or trying to buck him off, which Steve takes as a good sign–as ideal, really, as Steve could hope for in this situation. One of Eddie’s hands comes up to run down his face, his curls shifting against the pillow as he shakes his head fervently.

“Shit, Harrington, I thought–I mean, what I saw–” he trails off, lip trembling.

“I get it, man. Trust me, I get it.”

Though Eddie had squeezed his eyes firmly shut through the come down, he blinks them open again, looking at Steve through the darkness.

“Yeah, uh. Guess you would, wouldn’t you? Probably better than anybody.”

Steve can only nod his agreement.

“I mean, not just me. All of us get them,” he whispers, compelled to say it quietly, as he’s not sure if that truth is a comfort or a burden. “The nightmares, you know? Nance, Dustin, Robin–me.”

“Well, can I just say, they truly and royally suck.”

“Yeah…can’t really argue with you there, man.”

Eddie seems to register, then, that Steve has curled his body around him. His steadily loosening posture goes stiff again, much to Steve’s disappointment, and his eyes dart over nervously to catch Steve’s as he sucks in his bottom lip.

“Fuck, I-I’m sorry, dude. I totally didn’t mean to wake you up with my–terror-filled screams.”

The smile he shoots Steve is self-deprecating, tentative.

Steve’s grip slackens, but he doesn’t pull away, still pressed against Eddie’s side.

“Hey,” Steve coaxed, “you don’t need to do that, Eds. Like I said, we all fucking get them. That’s what I’m here for, okay? I–just wanna help when I can.”

The quirk of Eddie’s lips looks more genuine, now, some of the tension draining away.

“You know, Harrington, it’s kinda annoying how much I know you mean that.”

“Better get used to it, Munson. Cuz I’m not going anywhere.”

Steve gives Eddie one final quick squeeze around his shoulders, wondering if the gesture somehow crosses the line of casual, friendly touch Steve has gotten used to doling out to Eddie since all the Upside Down shit started, the jocular back pats and hair ruffling he’d justified as just typical guy stuff.

With that thought firmly at the front of his mind, Steve pulls away, albeit reluctantly. That said, he really doesn’t want to go back immediately on his word by slinking off to his bedroom, abandoning Eddie to fight off whatever images linger alone in the dark.

Especially not when he hears the almost imperceptible noise Eddie lets out as he stands.

Steve eyes the floor speculatively, an idea already taking root in his head.

“Speaking of, why don’t I just–stay here tonight. Yeah?” he suggests, already tossing the pillow and throw from the chair in the corner on the ground, making himself a pallet.

Sure, it’s not the most comfortable sleeping position ever, but between chairs in the Wheelers’ basement and the cold, hard floor of a Russian elevator, Steve’s done a lot worse.

“C’mon, man–you don’t have to do that,” Eddie tries to protest.

Like Steve can’t clearly see how haggard he looks, peering down at Steve through the curtain of his hair, the end of one strand damp where he’s pulled it up to his mouth and chewed on it.

Steve waves him off. “It’s not a problem. I already told you, dude, Henderson stays over all the time–you think I’ve never had to have a floor sleepover when he was around? Get real.”

Eddie quirks an eyebrow at him.

“...Something tells me you’re not going anywhere even if I pull out my magnificent rhetorical skills from years of DMing and try to argue with you, huh?”

Steve thinks that really Eddie’s just proved his point, the fact that, since Steve mentioned staying, he’s recovered himself enough to be teasing all the more reason sticking around is clearly a good thing.

“Nope,” he answers, voice chipper as he shoots a finger gun at Eddie.

Eddie shakes his head ruefully. “Alright, didn’t think so.”

Without further ado, Steve flops himself gracelessly onto his makeshift bed for the night, the thick carpet beneath softening his landing.

“Night, Eddie.”

“Yeah. Yeah, night, Steve.”

Several long moments pass, and Steve listens, waiting to hear Eddie’s breathing evening out. It’s a sound he has become well acquainted with after many nights spent at the hospital, fitfully trying to sleep in the uncomfortable chair at Eddie’s bedside. When he fails to hear that telltale signal, Steve can’t help but stay tensed, ready to spring into action at a moment’s notice.

He doesn’t have to wait long before Eddie breaks the silence.

“Steve?” Eddie calls out, voice wavering. “Could you–fuck, man, I just need…”

He trails off, becoming muffled as he probably buries his face in his hands again. Even in the darkness, as Steve sits up, he can see the way Eddie’s shoulders hitch with his uneven breathing.

Without a word, he abandons the pillow and blanket on the floor to climb back onto the bed. Eddie doesn’t even look up when Steve’s weight dips the mattress.

“Hey, man,” Steve hipchecks him, nudging him over gently, “move over.”

“Harrington…” Eddie drawls slowly, looking completely lost even as he does as requested. His eyes widen further when Steve climbs into the empty space he left behind. “What’re you doing?”

“What does it look like?” Steve asks, raising an eyebrow as he leans back onto the pillows, getting comfortable.

“I know what it looks like, I just need some reassurance I’m not just hallucinating from blood loss or something here, man. Maybe you didn’t actually pull me, barely alive, out of that hellhole, and everything since then has all just been a really, really elaborate dream.”

Steve laughs, jostling his shoulder slightly.

“You’re not hallucinating.”

Eddie continues to stare at him in silent disbelief, causing Steve to sigh and sit up.

“Look, man, I–I get it, okay? All this, afterwards…sometimes it helps, just…being together. Close by, you know?”

Steve had had Nancy and the pretense of normalcy after the first go around, though that had all quickly gone to hell.

And the second time, when the kids truly were still kids, not the tiny adults they were fast becoming, there had been Dustin. The night after their second showdown, they’d slept side-by-side on their own makeshift palate on Joyce Byers’ living room floor, the other munchkins all scattered around them and Steve’s hand ruffled in Dustin’s hair, just the reassurance that he was there safe and comforting.

It was the best Steve had slept in almost a year.

And then, after the third time, there had been Robin. Filling up his parents’ empty house with laughter, movie marathons and impromptu sleepovers. Robin crawling into his bed in the middle of the night because she didn’t want to sleep alone in the echoing walls of Casa de Harrington, the two of them kicking each other like two giggling preteens until they fell asleep.

So, yeah. Together, in Steve’s many years of experience, was undeniably better.

“Besides, this way I can check and make sure you don’t actually bleed out in the middle of the night.”

“...If you say so,” Eddie says dubiously, but he doesn’t argue any further, which Steve counts as a win. He’s learned to take them where he can get them, these days.

But even after his agreement, Eddie’s restlessness is transparent. He fidgets beside Steve–drumming his fingers, squirming in the sheets as though trying to get comfortable, and eventually rolling half onto his side so that he’s facing away from Steve entirely. As Steve peers curiously at the outline of his shoulders, he realizes Eddie is still trembling, just a little.

His heart gives a painful kick in his chest.

“Here, just–” Steve turns until he’s lined up along Eddie’s back and then wraps a hand around his waist, pulling him back against him.

Eddie’s fidgeting stops immediately as he freezes in Steve’s arms.

“How’s that?” he asks into the waves of Eddie’s hair brushing against his face. “Better?”

“Uh.”

The hesitation in Eddie’s voice makes Steve really wish he could see his face, get a better read on the situation. Eddie’s so damn expressive, he might as well be the poster boy for “heart on his sleeve” as a phrase.

“Yeah. Yeah, I think so.”

“Are you totally weirded out?” Steve asks, trying to keep his voice casual. “If you want me to, like, stop, you can just…tell me, you know.”

“No,” Eddie laughs, his head dipping downwards, “no, man, it’s…it’s definitely not that. I’m just trying to reconcile several shifting pieces of my world outlook into place all at once.”

“Yeah? Like what?”

Eddie turns, then, tipping over onto his back again so he can stare at Steve in disbelief. Steve doesn’t loosen his hold on his waist.

“Steve Harrington. Is in my bed. Spooning me,” Eddie raises his eyebrows at him. “None of that strikes you as weird?”

“I’m not spooning you now,” Steve points out. “You turned around.”

“Dude!” Eddie smacks his shoulder, shaking his head, laughter in his voice. They’re close enough his hair tickles Steve’s face as it whips around them.

“And, no, not really,” Steve shrugs. “Probably doesn’t even rank in the top ten weirdest things I’ve done in the past three years.”

“I mean…after the shit I’ve seen? I don’t doubt that, dude.”

But Eddie stares at him for a long beat after he admits it, eyes bright and brows drawn. There’s an expression, on his face, like he’d like to crack Steve open and see how his gears work, understand him from the inside out.

Plenty of people have looked at Steve like they wanted him. Steve’s not sure anyone has ever looked at him like this before, though.

The comforter has fallen down around Eddie’s waist, the shirt Steve had lent him riding up, exposing the pale line of his stomach. The worst of the wounds are still covered in bandages, the stitching hidden underneath them, but a patch of fresh, purple scarring spills out from the stark white gauze.

That’s the only real explanation that Steve has, for what he decides to break the sudden, loaded silence with.

(Plus maybe, just maybe, it’s one way of giving Eddie a part of himself, one jigsaw piece in the puzzle those bright brown eyes seem eager to solve.)

“You know, Nancy has a scar on her palm.”

When Eddie’s face turns towards his on the pillow, shooting him a puzzled look, he keeps going.

“Here, like this,” Steve tries to sound nonchalant as he takes Eddie’s hand, drags a finger gently across it. He’s not sure how much he’s succeeded, seeing the way the furrow of Eddie’s brow deepens in the low light. “And it’s…from the first time, with the demogorgon? Nancy and Jonathan, they–they lured it out together, and they’ve got the matching scars to prove it. She explained it to me, later, what happened.”

“I mean…that sounds like a gnarly war wound,” Eddie observes hesitantly. Then, his lips tug into a lopsided smile. “Not as impressive as a missing nipple, of course, but, you know–not everybody can be as badass as me.”

“Shut up, dude,” Steve scoffs, trying to bite back his own smile as he very gently jostles Eddie’s arm.

“What I’m trying to say, Harrington, is–I’m not really sure why you’re telling me this now?”

“I was getting to it, Eds. Sheesh, when it comes to patience, you're as bad as the munchkins.”

Eddie inclines his head for Steve to continue, not even bothering to hide his amusement. “You have my sincerest apologies for interrupting, Stevie. Please–carry on, my liege.”

“Thank you,” Steve says snippily, partially out of habit, and partially because returning to the topic at hand is making him a little nervous. “So, like I was saying–Jonathan and Nance, they’ve got these matching marks on their hands, right? And, after they got back together–not to sound like a stalker, or anything, for the record this was when we would hang out sometimes–but more than once I would…I would catch them, just. Doing this thing where they pressed their palms together, like this.”

He demonstrates, spreading his hand out so his and Eddie’s hands line up together perfectly, Steve’s own longer fingers inching out over the tips of Eddie’s own.

“I don’t think they ever realized I noticed. But I always knew, when they did it, they were comparing their–what did you call them?–their matching war wounds. Like they carried this secret little thing that would always tie them together, no matter what happened. And I’m not gonna pretend I wasn’t jealous, at first, but even then, I always thought it was…nice. The thought of having somebody who would always be connected to you, that way, where you could never really erase what you’d been through together.”

A long beat of silence passes between them, him and Eddie staring at each other in the moonlight. Steve hopes, desperately, that maybe some part of what he’s trying to work up to saying is getting through.

“That is…incredibly morbid. Especially for you, Harrington,” Eddie notes finally, a corner of his mouth ticking up in amusement.

Steve huffs out a breath, beginning to pull his hand away, “Whatever, man, if you’re just gonna make fun, forget I said any–”

“Shit, no no no, dude!” Eddie’s arm flies out, gripping Steve tightly around the wrist, not letting him slink away. “I’m sorry, Stevie, I–that’s not what I meant. I do, I do get what you’re saying. Like you said, scars like that–they work like a symbol, that you’ve been through some tough shit together, side by side, and made it out the other end alive. I totally fucking get it, dude. And against all instincts, I do think it’s pretty romantic, in an absolutely metal sorta way. That’s why I said it like that. Just didn’t expect your romantic side to come with so much edge, Stevie boy.”

“Yeah, well,” Steve lets out a dry huff, “almost dying about a hundred times will do that to a person.”

“Yeah, I guess it will. I’m, uh. Still not completely clear about what Wheeler and Byers’ big epic love story has to do with us, though?” Eddie’s Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard. “Unless…you’re here to wallow? In which case–I mean, fair enough. Wallow away, my good sir. You’ve more than earned it.”

“It’s not that,” Steve insists, even as he shrugs his shoulders, slightly conceding the point. “I mean, sure, with Nancy…I really thought she was it for me, once upon a time. And so when I saw what she had, with Jonathan–it hurt. Because it was her, of course, but also…because I wanted that with someone, as twisted as it maybe sounds. I’d gone through hell and back, too, and all I got was that nail bat and a bunch of mouthy kids to look out for.”

Eddie lets out a bark of laughter, and Steve grins back at him.

“Not that I’m complaining, or anything. I mean, I got Robin, too, and I don’t know what I’d do without her, or the hellions, for that matter. But, I–”

Deliberately, he tugs up his own shirt, shifting until he’s pressing carefully against Eddie’s side. Their matching bandages brush, an identical swath of white in the darkness, tangled scars seeming to almost curl together. It’s hard, in that moment, to tell where one of them ends and the other begins.

“I just–never thought I’d have anybody else to match with. That’s all.”

“But–now you do?” Eddie says slowly, something cautious in his voice.

“Well, yeah,” Steve shrugs, the corner of his mouth curving upwards in a tentative half-smile. “Now I’ve got you.”

“...You got me,” Eddie agrees quietly, almost like he’s afraid to speak that part out loud. “Dragged me out of hell and everything, Harrington. No return receipt after all that so…don’t really think there’s any getting rid of me now, even if you wanted to.”

“Good,” Steve says curtly, with a sharp, certain nod of his head, leaving no room for any creeping doubts. “Like I said, Munson, I’ve been waiting on this for a while, so you don’t get to run out on me now.”

Eddie shakes his head again, lips curling in bemusement.

“You are something else entirely, Steve Harrington,” he admits. “Full of surprises.”

“Good ones?” Steve asks, suddenly self-conscious.

Eddie tilts his head back and forth, as though he’s considering.

(Later, he will tease Steve about it mercilessly.

“Was that the infamous Harrington charm at work? Bet you tell that one to all the boys you lure into your bed, seduce them with tales of matching battle wounds connecting you like a pair of fated lovers.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Eds,” Steve will counter with that same sincerity that always sends Eddie blushing, “cuz I’ve never said anything like that before. Not to anybody. Not before you.”)

But, for now, it takes only a moment for Eddie’s face to dissolve into a warm smile. Reaching over, he tangles his fingers with Steve’s again, tugging their interlaced hands up to rest against one of the scarred patches stretching across his belly.

The skin feels smooth under Steve’s hand. For a moment, he wonders how it would feel, to press his lips there.

“Yeah,” Eddie answers, eyes sparkling with so many promises of the future, for now left unsaid. “Yeah, I’d say pretty good so far.”

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #my writing #my stuff #my things #me coming at you with yet another spin on an established steddie trope? it's more likely than you think

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thebestofoneshots · 4 months

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Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 12 K Warnings: Graphic descriptions of violence. (Reader discretion is advised). Prompt: It's game time. This IS a wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it. Proofread by sweethearts: @aremuslupinsimp & @profoundpidgeon

Chapter 30: Bridge Over Troubled Water

You stayed with the boys until Peter and James arrived, and since it was already past curfew, but mostly because he wanted to, he offered to take you to your room using James’ cloak. You were both already outside your door when he stopped you and pulled you in for a short kiss.

“Starshine, I might not see you tomorrow…”

“However will I survive?” you chimed in.

He rolled his eyes, a very small smile playing on his lips before he focused again “That’s not– tomorrow’s the game–”

“Yeah, I’m very aware.”

“And I won’t be there.” You nodded, holding your tongue instead of interrupting him again, “You will be the seeker.”

“Sirius, What’s your–”

“Just promise you won’t do anything stupid.”

You gave him a look, and then smiled, reciting a line from a comic you’d read with him a couple of weeks ago “How could I? You’re taking all the stupid with you.”

He deadpanned, “I’m serious.” Again, you had to hold your tongue before saying something that would probably frazzle him a bit more, “Take care of yourself, you’re more important to me than winning the game.”

You smiled at that. It was a game against Slytherin. You’d be seeking against Regulus. Those words meant a lot more than they let on. You looked at him, and nodded “I won’t do anything stupid.”

“No using yourself as a shield for a bludger?”

“Nope,” you confirmed with a nod.

“Stay the hell away from Crouch.”

“You don’t even have to tell me for me to do that.”

“And don’t trust Minho, I know you’re friends but he’s as quidditch crazy as James, he won’t go easy on you just because you’re friends.”

“It’d be a boring game if he did,” you said with a pout. Sirius shook his head in disbelief before pulling you into a hug.

“Not gonna lie, I’m kind of glad you’re playing seeker instead of guardian, with your shoulder and everything…”

“Shoulder’s fine,” you said with a shrug, leaning onto him. He was squeezing you tightly, and you rather enjoyed it. “But I’ll get hurt more often if you keep coddling me so much.”

“How about you don’t get hurt ever again and I promise to continue coddling you regardless?” He hummed into your hair, his tone laced with humour.

“I suppose we could reach to an agreement,” you replied with a smile, as you took in the scent of his soft shirt, and then pulled back to look at him, “Don’t pick up fights with Evan while you’re in detention with Slughorn,” you added in a warning tone.

He gave you a look as if to say that it was impossible but you reached up and placed your hand near the bottom of his lip, where a small cut was healing, he winced as you brushed your hand over it “I thought as much,” you told him earnestly as you let your hand fall to the side of his cheek, Godric, he’s so unfairly pretty, you thought.

He stared back at you, and you must have stayed like that for a while, if anyone saw you, they’d assume you were two idiots in love, which was pretty accurate in and of itself, thankfully the cloak was still covering the two of you, letting you bask in each other’s gazes without anyone bursting your bubble, until Sirius did, remembering it was late. “All right, off you go, you have to wake up early tomorrow, eat a full meal and get ready for the game.”

“Sure thing Prongs,” you teased, you would have said mom, but being honest, James was a lot more concerned about the games and your eating habits than either of your moms ever were, especially Walburga, at least your mom tried, even if you didn’t agree with the choices she had made in order to please your father.

He huffed a laugh, “I’ll tell Rem to watch over you.”

“I don’t need a nanny.”

“He’ll watch over you anyway,” he added, which was true in two ways, one: he’d tell Remus regardless of your objections, and two: he was pretty sure Remus would watch over you even if he didn’t directly ask him to do it.

You hummed in response and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before sliding into your room. Lily was awake for some reason, she had a book in her hands and was using the light of her wand to read. You narrowed your eyes at her and decided to go straight into her bed, sitting beside her.

“Where were you all day today?” She asked in a whisper, you took your wand out of the pyjama pants the boys had given you and cast a silencing spell over the two of you. “The school was chaos, Nox and Comet came over looking for you at lunch, we had to tell them we hadn’t seen you since breakfast. And then it was my date with James, I wanted to ask you if I looked nice but nobody knew where you were, it was like you vanished.”

“You always look nice,” you said, addressing one of their first statements. “James is head over heels for you–”

She frowned, looking over your body. “Hold up! What are you wearing?” she asked, placing her hand on the flannel pants you had on, pants she was sure she had seen either on Sirius or Remus (perhaps both), and then turned to the shirt, a little too big for you. A shirt she definitely had seen on Sirius. You didn’t change back into your uniform since you weren’t expecting anyone to be awake. “Isn’t this Sirius’… Oh my God! You were with Sirius,” she said with a gasp, covering her own mouth since she had been much louder this time around, “How was it?”

“Ah that… It’s not what you think!” You managed to mumble, “I was working on my project with Rem and then I accidentally spilt coffee all over myself, he borrowed this,” you explained, making it all up on the spot, feeling rather satisfied at how convincing you’d sounded. “Sirius came over later and we all just chilled together for a bit, Remus was reading to us and I just kinda lost track of time.”

She quirked an eyebrow as if analysing what you’d said, Lily was clever, that’s why you had added a truth after the lie, perhaps that way she wouldn’t suspect too much "Does that mean you haven’t…?"

You shook your head. "We’ve… kissed a lot, but no." You then turned to her, narrowing your eyes. "Lily Evans, what makes you so curious?"

She turned red, pulling a strand of shiny red hair behind her ear. "I kissed James today."

You looked at her shocked, James had told you and the boys that the date had gone well, he hadn’t elaborated further. It should have probably made you wonder why he rushed into his bathroom, but you were way too comfortable laying in between Sirius and Remus as he read an action-packed scene that you didn’t pay too much attention to it. In fact, you weren’t sure you’d be able to pay attention to much anything other than Remus’ calming voice, let alone with Sirius, who had at some point taken a hold of your hand and fidgeted with your fingers as the other boy narrated.

"You know you have to tell me everything about it, don’t you?"

She nodded. "That’s why I stayed awake."

And she told you everything, from how James had picked a few wildflowers, which you recognised as Remus’ idea, to how he’d taken her on a walk near the lakes. How he’d somehow gotten his hands on the muggle coffee candies she adores so much -which you knew had been thanks to Sirius’ cousin Andromeda- and he’d placed them on a small picnic basket filled with her favourite food from the great hall (those had been courtesy of Pebblier and Nimbletwist, you had been the one to ask them for it), how he’d taken some paints and parchment and proposed to paint each other. That had been his own idea, at least the making portraits of each other part.

She took out her journal and pulled out the parchment, she had neatly added it to one of the pages with tape. James might be good at a lot of things, but he wasn’t a Michelangelo, perhaps a Picasso? You could certainly say Lily’s portrait was an abstract piece. But she seemed absolutely delighted by it. And her happiness was contagious.

At some point, you had both laid on their bed as he continued telling you all the things they’d done. How he’d behaved like a total gentleman, but kept his very distinctive James Potter charm. She wondered how she had been so blind and not seen that side of him before. You’d been tempted to tell her she was a goner, but held your tongue. You told her a bit about the book you’d been reading with the boys, and she told you that she heard about it. That there was a movie, or maybe they were still making it, she wasn’t too sure. Hogwarts was incredible at many things, but it wasn’t very good at helping students keep up with muggle news. In between laughter, secrets and teasing, the two of you fell asleep beside each other.

Sunday, November 28th, 1976

"Darling, you need to wake up," you heard as you felt a hand on your shoulder. The pain woke you up, rather than her voice, and you groaned, thankfully Marlene thought it was because you were still sleeping. "Teddy wants us in the pitch earlier since he wants to revise the strategy."

You gave her a look, still rather sleepy but nodded, getting up from Lily’s bed, she was still sleeping soundly on the side, and stirred only a little as you stood up, if Marlene noticed anything related to the pyjama you had on, she said nothing. You went straight to change, freshening up a bit by throwing some water straight at your face.

You checked your wound, it looked a lot better, the pain was still there, but it seemed like it was already closing. You threw in some healing spray Remus had given you the night of the prank and wrapped it again. You brushed your teeth, and after you were done, you threw some more water at your face. You felt a lot more awake now, but you were sure breakfast would finish waking you up completely. While it might have not been the best idea to stay awake talking to Lily, you still thought it had been worth it.

You gave a look at your reflection in the small bathroom mirror. "Let’s do this," you told yourself with a smile and stepped out, Marlene was waiting for you outside, she was lacing up her boots."Breakfast?"

She nodded in response, and the two of you walked over to the door. "Should we wake her?" she asked.

You shook your head "She stayed up quite late-"

"Talking to you," she interrupted.

You shrugged. "Yeah, but she didn’t have a game tomorrow," you told her, nodding to the fact that you had been irresponsible, but were okay with it either way. "She’ll wake up before the game, she set an alarm. We should let her rest."

Marlene hummed. "Her date must have been pretty exhausting," she told you with a cheeky smile, you laughed. "Though I still wonder how he managed to convince McGonagall to let him off punishment to go on the date."

You raised your eyebrows "Well… I suppose James can be very convincing."

"He probably cried to McGonagall," she said with a laugh. "Wouldn’t blame him, I’m not sure if Lily would have given him another chance."

"We would have convinced her."

"If only to get James off our backs," Marlene said with a laugh, by then you were already close to the entrance of the great hall.

James and Sirius –as expected– weren’t there when you crossed the huge doors. Teddy was amiably speaking with Tim and Lucas, who would be covering for your friends, while Gale and Anne sat a little bit further to the side. When Gale saw the two of you, he raised his hand and made a gesture for you to walk their way.

Both you and Marlene followed and sat in front of the two of them. You served yourself some apple juice as you all greeted each other. They were both already wearing their uniforms, just like you and Marlene were. The Slytherins also had their uniforms on, and they were all sitting close to each other. You realized the boy that would be covering for Evan was the same you had seen in Barty’s room, the Gaunt kid.

“How’re we feeling?” Gale asked, diverting your attention towards your table again.

You sucked in some air and smiled. “It’s always the excitement before a game, isn’t it?”

“Excitement?!? I’m shitting my pants from how nervous I am,” Gale said as he took a sip of some lavender tea Anne had given him to relax. “There’s no way in hell I’m as good as you as a keeper.”

You almost gasped at his words, you were absolutely shocked the overconfident Gale Thomas, the same boy who had taken your handkerchief away on the tryouts, who was so fast you hadn’t even noticed, would be reduced to a bundle of nerves by something like this, you tilted your head. “Gale you’re brilliant, you’ve always been brilliant!” you said. “Even on the tryouts, you were amazing as a keeper, I’m sure we stopped just as many–”

“You stopped around 5% more than I did, you had a block ratio of 95%,” he said, leg bouncing up and down as he took a bite from a toast.

You leaned down on the table to get his attention. “Gale?” you called, he threw you a look, worry still evident on his face. “They wanted you to be a keeper too,” you told him, pointing at Teddy with a nod. “And if they attempt to throw the ball 20 times, and you stop 19, we would still be many, many points ahead. Alison and Mina are great chasers, but I’m sure you’ll be on par, after all, you defended against Teddy, James, Anne and me on the tryouts.”

Anne nodded. “Say it louder so it gets through his thick head,” she said, a little louder and sounding just a little annoyed. He’s been going over since we came downstairs.

“You really think I’ll be on par?” he asked, looking absolutely hopeful. You smiled, sometimes you forgot how much younger than the rest of the team Gale was.

“I’m sure you’ll outperform them,” you added with a smile and a pat on the shoulder.

“What about you, how long has it been since you played seeker?”

You took a deep breath, pondering on the question, it had definitely been a while, but you had played mini-matches with James several times, just trying to catch the snitch in morning flights. You still had the touch, or at least the two of you were much better than Sirius, who had only managed to catch the snitch like 7 times of the hundreds you had played. And one of them had been because he’d distracted you by blowing you a kiss.

“Officially? Probably in March or something, but I’ve been practising with James on our morning flights.”

“You’re not nervous?” Anne asked as he threw a chip in her mouth.

You bit your lip. “I’m excited,” you responded honestly. “Although, the fact that I’m seeking against Pads’ brother and he won the race does make me feel rather queasy,” you added, deciding to avoid the rest of the drama that he’d caused a few years back.

“I still don’t get why you keep calling him weird names,” Anne said with a shrug.

“Regulus?”

“No, your boyfriend, first it was Puppy, then Pads, as the boys call him. What’s wrong with just… Sirius?”

“Oh, have you heard what they call her?” Marlene intervened. “There’s Starshine, Little Witch, Trouble, Kit–”

“Vix!” Remus said, cutting Marlene off and giving the perfect example.

“Hey Moons,” you said with a smile as you leaned closer to Marlene so he could sit.

“Vix?” Anne asked Marlene in a rather hushed tone.

“Stands for Vixen.”

“And she just lets them call her that?”

“It’s because she’s as sly as a fox,” Remus intervened.

“And it’s still better than Wormtail,” you said, just to get a reaction from Peter who was taking a seat across from you and Rem.

“Oi! Stop it, Wormtail is a perfectly fine nickname thank you very much.”

“If she’s Vixen because she’s a sly fox and Peter is Wormtail because he’s as quiet as a mouse–” Anne started.

You snorted. “When has Peter ever been quiet as a mouse?!”

Yes, it was true Peter wasn’t nearly as loud as James or Sirius, and it made it especially evident since he was always hanging around the two boys but Peter was far from “quiet as a mouse”, if anything, Remus was quieter, and that was only half true, because once you got him talking about a book, he could go on and on with it, just like James could talk about Quidditch for hours.

“And why is he Wormtail then?” Anne asked.

“He looks like a rat,” Remus responded simply, which would have sounded mean if he didn’t have a complicit smile as he stared at Peter.

“Quit it with your word games you two!” Peter warned in a rather stern tone, and yet, there was a certain shimmer behind his eyes, as if he knew more than he let on. It was all in the secrecy, really, on being part of the brotherhood that actually knew what was happening behind the nicknames. The shared secret allowed you to do and say things that people didn’t quite understand, even if you sometimes had to play offended. You enjoyed being able to be part of it, part of them.

“And Remus is Moony, isn’t it?” Anne asked, “Why’s that?”

“Because he’s insane,” you and Peter responded at about the same time, before bursting out into a laugh, Remus pulled your hair lightly in response and you turned to him with your tongue out.

“If you keep it up, little witch, I’m not gonna give you this,” he said as he pulled his hand up for you to see, his sleeve fell back a little and you could see what he meant, Sirius’ lucky hair tie.

“You wouldn’t go against Pads’ wishes,” you told him as you grabbed his hands and started to tug at the hair tie, but he dragged his hand away, leaving you with a pout.

“You sure about that luv?” He asked, eyebrows quirked.

“Confident,” you said, attempting to drag his hands down, but it was pretty useless, his muscles wouldn’t even budge, freaking werewolf strength, you thought with a huff “Reeem!” you whined. You wondered for a moment what that strength would do as a beater in quidditch and almost shivered.

He just smiled and tilted his head “How about you ask for it nicely?”

You rolled your eyes. “Darling Moony,” you said, exaggerating. “Can I please have Puppy’s hair tie?”

He knew you were playing a part, he could also hear the sarcasm dripping from your voice, and yet… he rather enjoyed that all of your attention was on him. And Merlin the look that you were giving him, it felt almost as good as when Sirius climbed onto the side of his bed, grabbed his hand, and manhandled it until he managed to slide the hair tie in. It still smelled of Sirius’ hair long after he had left for detention. Remus tried not to smell it, he didn’t want to be weird about it. But he couldn’t help himself.

Now he had you all over him, legs pressed against his and hands all over his arm as you attempted to pull it down, and he adored it. Even if he knew he shouldn’t, even if he knew you were Sirius’, he loved having your undivided attention. Your eyes on him, and no one else.

“Pretty please?” you added, and now you had that sneaky little puppy dog face you gave him when you wanted something. The same face he could barely say no to when you weren’t pressed against him.

He sighed and lowered his arm, allowing you to take the tie from him, relishing on the way your hands brushed over his own. Your hands were much smaller than Sirius’, even if a little rougher from so much quidditch and not that much piano, but he liked them just as much as he liked the ones of the boy.

When you managed to slide it off, you pulled back a little to add it to your hair “Have you eaten?” Peter asked from the front. Suddenly you remembered it wasn’t only you and Remus in the room and felt awkward for half a second, but everyone seemed to find the interaction the most normal, especially Peter and Marlene who hung around you and Remus often.

You looked down at your clean plate, you had been so focused on comforting Gale and then on Remus’ talk, or perhaps just on Remus, that you had forgotten to even serve yourself anything. You shook your head and filled your cup. “How much time do we have?” you asked Marlene.

“About 15 minutes,” she informed.

“That should be enough,” you said before taking a drink and grabbing onto a toast before spreading butter on it. Then some cream cheese and you were about to grab the marmalade when Remus spoke.

“Here,” he said as he passed over a plate with fruit to you.

“Thanks, Rem,” you said as you grabbed a few of the berries and placed them on top of your bread. You then started munching on some of the other fruits on the plate. You didn’t realise, with the rush, that the plate actually had only your favourite fruit. Remus had picked them up from the centre of the table as you prepared your toast.

You pretty much gobbled your food, like you had been doing all week, even if the absolute craving for meat had significantly diminished -especially when you were around Remus you noticed- the hunger seemed to prevail. All the types of hunger. Every time you saw Sirius you had the urge to kiss him over and over again like that time in the passageways. That type of hunger didn’t seem to subside when you were around Remus.

You stood up, Teddy, Tim and Lucas had already left, and Marlene was just finishing her eggs while Anne and Gale stood up. Remus was still eating, a lot more calmer as the four of you motioned to move.

“Little Witch!” he said, just before you started walking towards the door, he used his wand to levitate a blueberry muffin towards your face. “Take this for the way.”

“What about me,” Marlene asked.

“It was the last one, sorry.”

Marlene gasped playfully. “I swear, this is what you call preferences,” she said with a humph and turned her heel.

“I’ll save one for you next time,” Remus said with a simple shrug, and Marlene just gave him an incredulous stare before marching off behind Anne and Gale. You gave Remus a look and he shrugged again. “It was for you, she’s playing what she always does, you aren’t,” he added, did that make sense? he sure hoped it did.

“Thanks, Rem,” you told him with a smile. “I’ll see you in the game, yeah?”

“Wouldn’t miss it.”

“See you there too Pete,” you said with a wave, the boy nodded and hummed in response, too busy picking the onion bits out of the eggs. Peter didn’t like onion, and he always took his sweet time taking it out of his eggs, Sirius had given him a spell, but he said it wasn’t as good as using his hands and eyes.

You moved to follow behind Marlene and had almost gotten all the way out of the room when two Slytherins cornered you near the doors. You smiled.

“You did it, didn’t you?” Comet asked, a complicit smile on her face.

“Had to be you, Crouch has been on your back for months,” Nox added.

“And then there was the incident with Evan, Severus has always been an ass to you and Mulciber follows them along wherever they go,” Comet intervened.

You gulped, a small smirk on your lips. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“And you were in my room, jeez, how the hell didn’t I notice.”

“You must sleep pretty heavy,” you said with a shrug.

“Ha! She’s admitting it!”

“I can’t confirm nor deny anything…”

Nox looked dumbfounded while Comet laughed. “Thanks for the heads up,” she told you.

“What warning?” you asked with a complicit smile.

Nox breathed out, a smile playing on his lips again. “Should have heard his screams, he woke up drenched in sweat and crying like a baby,” he added, smile turning to smirk. You had never seen so much Slytherin-ness on him before. “Serves him well.”

You bit your cheek to avoid making your smile bigger. “Well guys, there’s a game I need to attend.”

“Good luck!” Comet said with a smile as you waved them goodbye and started walking away.

“We hope you lose,” added Nox casually, he actually liked Regulus, he’d always been a good roommate. Comet dug her elbow on his stomach, she didn’t care much for the Quidditch team, except for Minho, but she liked you better.

“I don’t, I hope you win!” she said with a smile “but invite me to the celebration party, I’d hate to miss it.”

You turned with a smile and a wink. “Of course, you’re always invited to the Gryffindor parties.”

You continued walking towards the pitch, you bumped into Nina, who hugged you and wished you a great game. She told you she’d be watching on the Gryffindor side with Sibyl, which made you smile.

After a few more minutes you were already on the pitch, everyone was there already, and Teddy was talking with Gale now, he turned to you and called your name, using his hand to prompt you to come.“James said you’ll be seeking.” You nodded, you knew. “But… and I know this might be a lot to ask, but could you keep an eye on Gale?”

“But he’s brilliant!” you argued, and then turned to him, standing on the side. “You’re brilliant Gale, I told you already.”

“He knows,” Teddy said, getting your attention again. “But he asked me to ask you to do it, just in case.”

You looked between the two boys and realised that more than anything, what Gale wanted was reassurance, so you smiled and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Of course, I’ve got you covered,” you bolstered him. “Just do your thing, be as fast as you always are but stay in the goals, all right?”

“Will you teach me how to do the backflip?” he asked.

You nodded, “How about I teach you during our next practice, in case you ever have to play keeper again?”

He nodded excitedly. “I want to be as good as you one day.”

“You’ll be even better,” you told him with a smile. And you truly believed he would, it was almost like a hunch.

“All right guys,” Teddy said, “10 laps, we need some warm-up.” You nodded and did as told, speeding through the pitch as fast as your broom allowed, then up and down, practising the break before reaching the ground.

Eventually, Teddy called everyone down, and you all started to gear up. You helped Gale with the many layers of protective gear he’d be wearing and then sat down near the bleachers to fasten your own gear. Most of the gear was similar to the stuff you wore normally. Although James had given you a pair of old gloves, that he said he’d used to win his first match. You tried not to think about the fact that your hands were so small that James’ had been the same size when he was 13, but then you remembered being James, and it actually made sense.

“Feeling ready?” you heard a soft voice from behind and saw Remus’ hands out of the corner of your eye, as he sat down on the grass beside you.

You hummed. “Yeah, I just need to finish with this,” you said as you pointed at the laces that you were passing through and around your shins.

Remus leaned on his palms as he looked up. “It might rain soon,” he informed.

“It’s a wonderful day!” You told him with a smirk, he gave you a side eye but smiled.

“Here,” he said, giving you a small, marble-sized transparent ball.

“A swamp bomb?” you asked curiously as you looked through the transparent-ish ball and looked at all the little murky water details inside.

“Throw it on the ground and you get an instant swamp,” he said with a smile. “Sirius and I trapped it on the marble a few years ago, we made one for each, they always carry them on rainy games.”

“For… luck?” you asked with a bit of a frown.

Remus quirked an eyebrow. “In case you slip off your broom,” he responded matter of factly, “use it and you’ll fall on water rather than on the grass, it’ll break your fall”

You gasped in shock, a surprised expression that turned into a smile the more you thought about it. “That’s insanely clever! It should be used as a failsafe for every quidditch player. I mean change the swamp for cleaner water and you have the perfect little artefact.”

Remus nodded in agreement, “Keep it in you, all right?”

You nodded. “You really did take the whole “taking care of me” thing seriously,” you said as you pocketed the marble.

“Take care of you?” he asked with a frown.

“Didn’t Sirius ask?” you asked a little confused.

He had.

Although, Remus had been too busy trying not to blush when he grabbed his hand to put the hair tie in. Did he? he wondered, perhaps he did, I wasn’t exactly listening. Remus cleared his throat, you noticed he did that quite often when he was around you, you wondered if maybe he was getting sick or something. “Yeah, I… yeah, but you’re my best friend so, still…”

You nudged him with your shoulder. “Don’t get all soft with me,” you joked. “You know I’ll be alright, don’t you?”

He propped his elbows on his knees and leaned his head on them, giving you an expression you could only describe as cute, even for Remus. “I know,” he reassured. “How’s the shoulder?” he asked, brushing his fingers on it lightly. Perhaps he was giving himself too many liberties around you these days, you didn’t seem to mind it.

“Better, it still hurts, but much better. Think James would have allowed me to play if he hadn’t gotten detention?”

He humphed. “You would have convinced him, you always do. Maybe it’s the fairy bIood?”

You shrugged, “Nah, mom was the last one in line with the ability to glamour.”

He smiled, “How about going against Reg?”

You swallowed thickly, you had told Remus about not using the hexbag on him. “It’s… It’s whatever.”

“You still resent him?”

“Am I petty?” you asked with a frown. “It’s… It’s not even about me and Sirius anymore, you know? It’s about the betrayal. I trusted him, Rem. I did, and Sirius warned me, he told me he was always doing what Walburga and Orion asked but I chose to trust Regulus. I thought I saw something in him, maybe a friend but… I guess I got my gut feeling wrong then.”

Remus nodded as he listened. “Did you ever talk to him about it?”

Yes, Remus, the voice of reason, of course, that’s what he would ask. You averted your gaze and shook your head, “He sent a letter once.”

“And?”

“I burned it down without even opening it.”

“You really have a knack for burning things that could be useful to you.”

You hit his shoulder lightly, knowing exactly what he was talking about, the werewolf book pages. “Either way, I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready to talk to him, things got really awkward when I blew him off during the race.”

Remus sighed, he really had to go and fall in love with two of the most headstrong and stubborn people in his life. He was about to say something when Teddy called for you. You turned to him, a smile plastered on your face as if the sad subject hadn’t been touched at all. “Enjoy the show then,” you said in the most enticing tone before standing up and pulling your broom up to your hands without even saying a word. Impressive, Remus thought, but then again, she’s always been impressive.

“The game is about to start,” Teddy informed, “Mckinnon, Lucas; Crouch will be all over Gale because he’s new, I want you to keep your eyes on him.”

“I… I think perhaps he might be all over (Y/N),” Marlene said. “He’s got beef with her.”

Yeah, Beef is certainly a way to call it, you thought. “Nah, Minho is friends with her, she won’t be in the danger zone too often.”

“I’m here,” you said, intervening with a raised hand, they were talking as if you weren’t. “And while I do think he’ll be trying to shoot the bludgers straight to my face, because that’s just who Barty is, I’ll stay close to Gale, no need to choose between the two, how does that sound?” you asked.

“Fine, but don’t stay in place if you see the snitch, go right behind it.”

“I was planning to.” You liked Teddy, you really did, but he wasn’t a great captain, James was.

“Davis, Tim, we’ll play offensive.” Teddy was still coordinating with the chasers when you heard a loud whistle sound from the referee.

You all walked towards the centre of the pitch, Teddy at the forefront, you and Gale to each side of him. The Slytherin team was right in front of you, Regulus was looking at you with a bit of a frown, his lips pursed, as if he wanted to say something but was holding his tongue.

You stared at him, and then at Barty who was glaring at you. You stood a little straighter, pulling your head back just a little and giving him the most unbothered and cocksure expression you could have mustered. It worked, his eyes narrowed and his glare thickened. Regulus, who had been watching the entire exchange, almost smiled proudly at your stance. You really were the same girl he had met years ago at the resort, perhaps even a little bolder now that you were older.

“Captains, greet each other,” the referee said –a Ravenclaw player who had been commissioned for the job. Dimitry and Teddy stepped ahead and shook hands.

You shot Minho a look as they stretched their hands and he winked at you. You knew he wasn’t going to make it easy for you just because you were friends, and you were thrilled to finally be able to play against him. You had heard stories, and you had seen him in practice games, he was good, professional player material even.

“Seekers,” the referee called, you turned to look at them, “your turn.”

You took a step forward and awkwardly shook Regulus’ hand. It was as soft as Sirius’, you still found it impressive how much they looked like each other and how different they were from the other, “I’m looking forward to playing against you.”

“I’m looking forward to beating you,” you said, a lot more bitterly than you originally intended for it to sound.

Regulus scoffed but smiled, that’s definitely something you would have said to him before the incident, although your tone would have for sure been different. The referee let the snitch out, and it circled Reg before circling around you and flying up into the air. You stared at the shiny orb until it disappeared in the air. Gale and Dimitry were already on the goals. There was another loud sound whistle, along with sparks and the game started.

You did as you promised, flew straight towards the goals and kept a decent distance between you and Gale, flying a little higher as you looked through every bit of the field to try and find the little golden ball. It hadn’t even been 10 minutes and the sky started to rumble. You looked up, and felt the first trickle of rain over your cheek. You smiled, things were about to get good. You had promised you’d stay near the goals, and you really did intend to do it. But then you saw something moving in the distance, barely a glimmer, a flicker of gold through the thick drops of rain. You turned to Regulus, he was looking towards the same spot you were. So you dived that way about at the same time he did.

You saw Anne Davis get a grip on the ball and dive straight towards Volkov’s goals, she missed the shot and he threw the ball back to one of their chasers but Tim intercepted and shot it back, managing to score some points for your team. The crowd erupted in cheers and even you joined in their cheers. Tim beamed from his spot, it was the first time he played an official game, and managing to score was a huge moment for him, although you never doubted his ability.

You and Regulus were almost side by side, flying towards the east side of the pitch, but the snitch seemed to have vanished again, he did a swift break a few metres from the ground but you continued down hoping to see the sneaky little ball somewhere, breaking just before you reached the grass, and rolling around the bottom on circles to diffuse the momentum of the fall. You looked up, Gale was being surrounded by the beaters of both teams, while Marlene and Lucas were trying to push the ball to the other side Minho and Barty were viciously dragging it back to Gale. You took a deep breath and flew as fast as possible towards them, not quite looking at Gale but pretending you had seen something. That would get them off him and to follow you instead.

“Don’t do anything stupid” you heard Sirius’ voice echo in your head. Well, it’s not stupid, you attempted to reason. It’s not like trying to stop a bludger with my own hands or stepping in front of one to defend Gale, definitely not like throwing your wand on the ground when facing a werewolf. This is teamwork.

You followed through with your plan and continued taking sharp turns, emulating the kind of turns the snitch would make you take and surely enough, in a matter of seconds, you had both Minho and Barty all over you, throwing the bludgers at your face as you skid and dodged them over and over. Thank Merlin you had decent reflexes.

Gale seemed to be a lot calmer now, and even if the reserve player, Solacis Gaunt, had scored 10 points earlier, he was visibly struggling to get past Gale’s defences. You smiled proudly at yourself as you continued to soar through the air, and dodged a few more throws from Crouch. Perhaps it was a bad idea to taunt him, but you couldn’t help yourself; when you steered clear of yet another shot from him, you turned around with a cocky smile and waved.

Crouch did not look happy. Minho was laughing in the background and Marlene, who was still close to Gale, watched the whole interaction with a bit of a frown. That was it, the stupid thing Sirius had told you not to do.

Even Remus, who didn’t have such a good view of the situation from the bleachers, noticed how you were haughtily making fun of Barty’s shot and stiffened in his seat. You could be so insolent sometimes, often failing to realise the consequences of what your actions could do to you. Like getting you thrown on the shrieking shack or almost eaten alive. Regardless, he had never seen anyone be so damn stunning while boasting. Actually, that was a lie, Sirius was equally beautiful when he did.

The game was tight, Regulus and you were darting almost side by side, he seemed a little confused at first because he couldn’t see the snitch you were so animatedly looking for, but then he noticed: your worrying looks at Gale, the little proud smile when he managed to stop a quaffle after Minho and Barty were off his back. She’s protecting him.

Regulus knew Gale, they were in the same year, and he knew he was a good guy, he was always studying and even if he was a little too loud and conceited for his own taste, he respected him. In fact, he was a little surprised he was so self-conscious about the game since his very confident persona would rarely waver into diffidence.

And then he saw the way you threw the boy a thumbs up and he realised: that could have been the kind of friendship that developed between the two of you. If he had done things differently, if he had perhaps… gone to the waterpark with you and Sirius. Maybe then you wouldn’t be so angry about the lies he’d told to keep you from harm. But he was also certain that what you wanted, for him to admit that it had been your idea, wouldn’t be something he would ever change, he wouldn’t have done anything to put you in danger.

From the very beginning, you had been kind and friendly to him, like you were to everyone you met, and even if you were clearly drawn to Sirius like a moth to a flame, you had never left him out. You’d even tried to convince him to come along, but he was too scared, he’d seen the way his parents punished Sirius. He didn’t want his mom to pull that kind of face, let alone those kinds of spells… Yeah, he might have been a bit of a coward, but everyone was safe in the end, and you were happy now, which in a way made him happy too.

He hadn’t seen the snitch either way, so he followed your game, darting behind as close to you as he could. He knew Minho would control his shots if he thought he could hit him, so in a way, he was protecting you and himself, since your team’s beater would be doing the same. Although –and he was indeed curious about this– they seemed to be sticking to Gale rather than following behind you and protecting you, or trying to tumble down the other players, like they should.

But then it happened, another glimmer like the one you had seen earlier, passed just over Dimitry Volkov. He swallowed, eyeing you, but you hadn’t seen it, no you were too busy trying to avoid Barty’s aggressive blows. Regulus darted straight towards Volkov, and you instantly knew he was probably following the snitch. So you went right behind him, managing to get shoulder-to-shoulder against each other.

BIoody hell, she’s fast.

He knew that too, but it had never been as evident as having you flying against him, and you didn’t even have your Dark Nimbus anymore. Eventually, you saw the snitch too, and picked up your speed. Both you and Regulus were on the verge of getting it, the sly little ball darting just away from your grasp as if it had a mind of its own.

It didn’t matter, both you and Regulus were as skilled as the other, which was something to say about the boy, since you had been doing this for a lot longer than he had. And even then, you found it a little hard to keep up with him in the sight department. Yes, you were faster, but the snitch often got lost in between the rain in your perspective, but Regulus seemed to always know where to go, never losing sight of it, which was getting on your nerves.

You lost sight of it again and whispered “fuck,” the bludger darted your way and you speed forward, it brushed over the sweeping side of your broom and made you lose balance but the grip you had on the handle was strong and you managed to straighten up before the other bludger sped your way.

You managed to move away from it this time, but not before sending Minho an incredulous look, he just shrugged with a small smile in response “I told you I wouldn’t make it easy for you darling!” You rolled your eyes but nodded, moving out of the way as Marlene shot the bludger back, straight towards Minho, who barely had enough time to react.

You chuckled at his incredulous reaction, as if he was genuinely shocked. Which made sense, last time he’d seen Marlene, she was still guarding Gale like a loyal dog. She threw you a look, a small nod as she let you know “I’m with you” without having to say a word. You looked at her with worry and turned to give Gale a look, once you made sure he was fine, you turned to her again with a smile.

Yes, Teddy had told her to stay by Gale’s side, but you truly needed to have 0 common sense to stay guarding someone who didn’t need protection and leave someone that was struggling with so many bludgers thrown their way by themselves. Besides, you were roommates, friends, she wasn’t gonna let you fall off that broom.

With Marlene on your side, you managed to let go of some of the extra apprehension you had been withholding to try and stay on your broom, she was countering the bludgers and you finally managed to focus on the snitch.

You tore through the air, faster than you had in the previous game, and faster than you had in the race, even without your broom, you’d somehow managed to pick up more speed, the wind whipping past with a biting force. You weren’t sure why it was happening, but you were benefiting from it so you didn’t think much about it.

You were shoulder to shoulder with Regulus again when your eyes landed on the snitch, it wasn’t far, you just needed to push through a little further. You could feel the sharp droplets of rain hitting against your face like icy needles from how fast you were moving, and the clouding in your glasses made it a little hard to see much of anything, but you were focused. Gaze fixed solely on the elusive glint of the snitch, tantalisingly close. You weren’t going to lose sight of it this time, not now that you were ahead of Reg.

As you neared the prize, almost forgetting your surroundings, you felt it, the yanking of your broom, the same yanking that had jolted you off it a few weeks past. Clenching your teeth, you tightened your grip and tried to push through, ignoring the feeling, you were so close. The snitch was within reach; your outstretched hands were on the verge of capturing it, ignoring the strain on your shoulder from how fiercely you were using your arm to grapple the broom, you fought to maintain control over it.

Regulus noticed “Barty!” He spat angrily. You didn’t hear any of it, the broom was pulling backwards, prompting a split-second decision. So you did the only logical thing you could and harnessed the momentum to leap towards the snitch just as the broom slipped from beneath you. Then, the fall began.

The whole crowd seemed to be holding their breath. Regulus, Marlene and Minho, who had been the closest all tried to fly towards you, to catch you before you hit the ground, not that you noticed.

You were rather high when you started to fall, and it almost felt like it was in slow motion, but you had already dragged your hand to the marble Remus had given you earlier when you felt the broom slipping from under your legs. You threw the marble to the ground and braced yourself for the rest of the fall. Trying to keep your eyes open as you wrapped your arms around your body and hoped to fall into the murky water.

In less than two seconds, you felt the freezing hit of the water all around you, lowering your temperature even more. Fortunately, the pocket swamp was deep enough, you didn’t even reach the bottom as you fell a few metres down the water. It took a minute to adjust, opening your eyes as you looked down, managing to see only darkness and some vines of seaweed. However, just as relief washed over you, and you started swimming upwards, you felt something grip onto your ankle. You looked down, panic cursing through your veins when you noticed the bony hand attempting to drag you down. What the fuck?

Above the water, the game seemed to be frozen, the players didn’t know if they should continue playing when two members of the Slytherin team and two of the Gryffindor were completely distracted by the accident.

“Minho, Regulus!” Dimitri shouted, “to your fucking positions.”

Teddy seemed to be about to do the same thing when Marlene threw him a warning look and he shot up, indicating the rest of the team to be on guard with his hands instead of speaking.

Minho turned to Dimitry, second-guessing himself, before turning back to the rippling water in front of him, you weren’t out yet. He shook his head and chose to stay, taking his wand and pointing it to the water “Hidroclearus!” The murky water responded to the spell, gradually clearing to reveal the unfolding scene beneath the surface.

Regulus didn’t even turn to look at Dimitri, he was fully focused on the water, worried.

Remus, who had seen you fall, had already crossed half the pitch with a panicked look on his face, followed by a terrified Lily, and a very concerned Mary. Your Slytherin and Ravenclaw friends were on the edge of their seats. Everyone except for Sibyl, that was trying to get Nina –who was crying hysterically–to calm down.

Someone was trying to stop Remus from going deeper into the field, so they wouldn’t interrupt the game further, but he pushed them off his way easily, Lily and Mary weren’t as lucky, and they were stopped by the game staff as Remus strode towards the swamp.

Under the thick water, your initial shock faded quickly, and you realised that whenever the boys had trapped the swamp in the marble, they had also trapped some kind of water creature. A water creature that was clearly pissed and very hungry after being carried around the boys’ pockets for so long. You pulled your wand out and cast a wordless reducto, getting it to snap his hand away, and started swimming upwards as fast as you could. By then, the water was clearer and Minho saw you, struggling to outswim the creature.

You threw a few other curses at the thing but it was relentless, it wasn’t thinking anymore, the creature had starved inside the marble for so long, the pain your spells caused was completely overshadowed by the rumbling of its stomach the moment it noticed: you were food.

Regardless, there was something you had that the monster didn’t, and that was raw stubbornness, you kept shooting jinxes and swimming however you could, and then you saw a hand, you had no idea who the owner was, but a stranger’s hand was still better than being eaten alive, you reached for it, the hand gripped around your wrist and hauled you up.

Seconds later you were finally above water, gasping for air and panting, you turned to the side, Minho, you realised. You looked back warily, pulling him by his robe as you stared at the water, and only relaxed when you were sure the thing was not about to follow.

Regardless you pulled your wand and whispered “glacius.” A thick layer of frost started to coat the lake and you finally exhaled. You pulled your head back, looking at the sky, the game was still going, but everyone was on edge. Regulus was looking at you in shock, but he seemed more angry than anything and Marlene rushed towards you before the lake froze completely.

She placed her hands around your face, “Are you… are you okay?”

You nodded, head a little squiffy as you tried to gain back focus, the surge of adrenaline finally draining and letting you feel the discomfort of the fall, and the one from your wound. Then you looked up again. “Why… why are they still playing?”

“Regulus stopped searching for the snitch the moment you fell,” she told you, Minho was still standing beside you, worry evident on his furrowed brows, he’d never seen you so fazed. Remus had, but that did not make his long strides slow down. He was also rather angry about the game continuing even after the entire thing had happened. Everyone should have stopped, everyone should be helping you.

He exchanged a look with Minho, the boy stared at Remus’s eyes for a second, seeing the worry and his concern, it reached deeper than his own, and he instantly knew. Yun Minho, the boy who had once kissed Remus, and knew the meaning behind his eyes from the amount of stolen glances they had shared at some point, was the first one to realise how irrevocably in love he was with you.

“That… that doesn’t matter.”

“I bIoody well agree but those are not the rules!” Marlene said, a little riled up but trying to control her anger.

“No,” you said slowly. “I mean, the game is over.”

Marlene frowned, and then Regulus noticed, in one of your hands, the one you had kept glued to your body the entire time, knuckles white from your hard grip, there was something, a small, unfolding wing, and he looked at you, absolutely stunned.

Still looking at Marlene you gave her a lazy smile, tilted your head and pulled your hand up, slowly unwrapping it until you were holding the snitch in between your index finger and thumb. Marlene’s jaw dropped while Minho looked at you impressed and patted you on the back.

You didn’t wince, but turned to him with a smile. “That was quite a game,” he said.

You nodded, letting a soft laugh out, raising your hand higher, so people would notice. The commentator, who had been struggling on whether to keep up with what was happening in the air or what was happening with you, gasped. “She has the snitch!” he said pointing at you, more surprised than anything before clearing his throat and announcing it properly, “That’s 150 points for Gryffindor! The final score is 200 against 60.”

You raised your eyebrows, Gryffindor had been losing by one shot. You could see your teammates start to fly down but were distracted by a bone-crushing hug, you hadn’t seen him coming, but you knew it was Remus instantly, his smell was unmistakable.

You smiled at his hug, you knew you were soaking him with murky, smelly water, but he didn’t seem to care, he was just glad you were all right, you almost snuggled your head on his chest, basking on his warmth, warmth that he had somehow kept despite the cold rain still falling over everyone.

“Rem?” you managed to mumble, he hummed in response, his head was on your shoulder, his eyes shut tightly as a tear of relief soaked your robe, you were fat too wet to notice. “You’re… you’re crushing me a little.”

His head snapped from its place and he looked at you with worry as he pulled back, his hands still on your arms. Now looking all over you, trying to make sure you weren’t hurt, that he hadn’t hurt you either.

You noticed instantly, the panic in his beautiful brown eyes. “It was just a little,” you reassured. “I’m fine,” you added. “Thanks to you, actually.”

Professor Pendragon had rushed towards you and stared at the lake, Nightshade was trailing behind, Remus stepped aside, but kept his hand on your back as the dark-haired teacher leaned closer to inspect you. “There’s a water spirit under the swamp,” you informed, “It’s hungry.”

She raised her eyebrows at you, impressed at your quick thinking. “That’s why you frosted it.”

“Didn’t want it to come up after me.”

“You had to fight it, presumably.”

You nodded, “It wasn’t that hard.”

Remus narrowed his eyes, it was as if you and Seraphina were saying a lot more words to each other than the ones he was actually listening to, it was in the intense gaze you shared, you seemed uncomfortable, almost on edge, but she seemed… pleased.

Professor Pendragon intervened a little later, he called you by your last name “You must be taken to the infirmary.” You threw a worried look at Remus, he had also wanted to take you there, but he bIoody well knew he couldn’t.

“I’m fine, it won’t be necessary,” you said with a smile. Nightshade tilted her head backwards, she knew why you had declined, you were clever, you knew people couldn’t see the probably still rather fresh would your werewolf friend had caused you. “I’ll just… go dry up and I’ll be good as new, the water broke most of the fall,” you added, reassuringly.

Cunning, Nightshade realised, she would have also been fooled, if she hadn’t known better. But she did, and she knew how much that fall must have stung.

Lily and Mary had somehow managed to get across now that the game was over and they were fast approaching but Gale beat them to it, and he also pulled you into a hug “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” he repeated like a mantra. You frowned at him and allowed him to pull back of his own accord. “If it hadn’t been for me and my-”

You shook your head. “Nothing was your fault, Gale. I’m fine, we won! You did incredible today too.”

He still seemed a little uneasy but nodded. “Yeah Thomas, it wasn’t your fault, if anything, it was Teddy who told me and Lucas to stay by your side,” Marlene said, throwing the chaser an angry side eye. He recoiled, he’d been staying a little further from the reunion. Lily and Marlene came over next, squeezing you in between the two of them before Peter did the same.

The rest of your friends also came down to tell you how happy they were that you were fine, Nina had pulled you into a hug almost as tight as Remus’ and didn’t let go of you for a few minutes while Sybil attempted to pull her off a few times. After a few more hugs, everyone seemed to be ready to start the Gryffindor celebration party. You had whispered Comet the passwords when she came to make sure you were all right, and she smiled, telling you she’d bring Nox along, even if he wanted you to lose initially.

After you and most of your friends started to walk towards the Common Room you felt a rather sharp pain in your arm. You winced but swallowed a whimper, you didn’t want to worry any of your friends, especially Lily and Remus, who looked somewhat at ease now.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” you announced.

Lily frowned, “I’ll come along…”

You shook your head. “No need. It’ll be quick, I’ll see you in the common room. Could you help me find something cosy to change into?”

She gave you a scrutinising look but nodded. Stepping ahead, but as you diverted, you felt an arm stopping you. “Where do you think you’re going, young lady?” he joked.

You turned to Remus with a diverted smile. “To the Toilets. Care to accompany me?” you said the last bit with sarcasm.

Remus chuckled. “What if I do?” he said then, in a rather teasing tone. “With the magnet you have for trouble I wouldn’t be surprised if you bumped into a troll or something.”

“A troll? In the girl’s lavatories?! Don’t be ridiculous, Rem! Go on and spare some fire whiskey from me, why don’t you?”

He wasn’t too sure about letting you go on your own, but he also knew how you were feeling, you had been literally surrounded by people from the moment you’d stepped out of the murky lake, and while it was nice to get hugged and all after getting hurt, sometimes all you needed was time to process what was had happened, he would know, he certainly did sometimes.

Perhaps, like he had many times, you just wanted a few minutes for peace and quiet. And although it took him a few seconds, he reluctantly let go of his grip on your arm and allowed you to go. “How much?” he asked with a smile.

“At least a flask,” you responded, he arched an eyebrow at you. “Come on, I’ve had quite a week, I deserve it, don’t I?”

He chuckled and nodded. “I’ll save two then.”

You smiled widely “That’s why I love you, Moony!” You had used a rather playful tone when you said it but that didn’t stop the knot that formed on the boy’s stomach, “See you in a bit, yeah?”

The boy nodded and you turned towards the toilets, speeding through to check on the wound. You removed your robe and sweater and used a spell to wipe them off the murky water as you checked the wound. Quickly washing it over the sink as you saw the splotches of cherry red slide down, contrasting against the porcelain white sink.

You rolled your eyes, the fucking wound was getting more annoying and inconvenient than painful at this point. Regardless, you dried it out, threw some of the painful ointment you had kept in your pocket with a spell for it to remain fresh in case of an emergency and wrapped it again, wiping the tears that fell from your eyes from the sharp sting of the dreadful but effective medicine you had somehow crafted.

You took a deep breath and moved towards the outside, you were just rounding the corner when you heard two voices, two very recognizable voices.

“You fucking asshole,” Regulus said, anger dripping from his tone.

“Off me, Black!” Barty countered. You leaned your head over, Regulus had him pushed against the wall as Barty fumed and tried to squirm his way out. Regulus was taller, but Barty had always been more vicious, and you knew how strong he was, after all, he had been the one to haul you to the shack on Monday.

“You do that again and you’re dеad meat,” Regulus seethed in between gritted teeth. “You got what you wanted, now back the fuck off!”

“Why are you even trying to… You didn’t have the nightmares I had! You SAW Evan, in the fucking infirmary!” Barty seemed to feel actual grief over that last bit.

“You both had that one coming, you think I’m blind? You’ve had it against them since the quaffle incident.”

“Well, she had it coming too!” The boy against the wall complained. It’s about me, you realised. And it almost pissed you off that Regulus would even try to defend you, who the hell does he think he is?!

You turned around to leave when you heard Regulus mutter a jinx and heard a howl from Crouch, you leaned over the wall again, to try and see what had happened, but Barty spotted you.

“Bitch’s here,” he said as he nodded your way, his jaw slightly slack.

“Yeah and this is none of my business,” you said, skipping past the two boys, not sparing a second glance at Barty, who was on the floor clutching his stomach.

“Hey!” you heard Regulus’ distressed voice “Wait up.”

Barty huffed at his reaction, rolling his eyes as Regulus trailed behind you like a lost puppy. Fucking Blacks’ obsession with that fucking girl, he thought as he stood up and limped to the other side.

“I said wait up!” Regulus said, grabbing your forearm. You yanked it away from him, with a vicious frown.

“Regulus, don’t fucking touch me,” you said in a warning tone, he seemed to recoil but stood his ground.

“Let me explain,” he said, running past you and blocking your path, the anguished look on his face reminded you so much of Sirius you almost folded “I–”

“No need to explain,” you dismissed while shaking your head. “Whatever you do with your life is your fucking business. And no need to worry about it, I don’t like talking behind people's backs like others. I’m no snitch, and I’m not gonna go running my mouth either.”

He seemed taken aback by that, blinking a few times as he processed the information. “You…” he stammered, “you never read my letter.”

You scoffed. “Of course I didn’t fucking read your letter Regulus, there was nothing you could have said to take back what you’d done. Sirius and I didn’t talk to each other for fucking years after that, I thought he hated me!” You were angry, bottled-up emotions spilling out of you like boiling water in a small pot. He was quiet, staring at you like he didn’t know what to say “Fucking thought so,” you whispered and skipped past him.

He had thought of so many things to say to you over the years. He was sure you hated him because he hadn’t let out the fact that it had been your idea, not for telling his parents about the escapade, and of all the times he had run this conversation in his head, none of them had included that fact. He felt like short-circuiting, and you were about to turn the corner when he managed to say something. “It wasn’t me!” You continued your way. “I didn’t tell them, I wasn’t the snitch!”

You froze in place, what? that… it doesn’t make sense.

Regulus took a deep breath, grateful you were listening, finally listening. “Someone sent an owl to my dad, they said they’d seen you in town.”

You turned to look at him, your eyes analysing him, his words, his red-rimmed eyes and the absolute raw emotion visible on his face, nothing like the stoic Regulus you were accustomed to.

“He asked me where you were,” he continued narrating. “I told him you had gone flying but he already knew. Then he slipped something in my drink and I couldn’t– it was veritaserum.”

You looked at him shocked, he was about to cry from the memory. Veritaserum? His parents used veritaserum on him?!? You wouldn’t put it past Orion and Walburga but still, it was absolutely heinous. “Reggie….”

He let out something in between a breath and a sob when he heard the nickname, the same nickname he had hated but longed to hear after the incident. He looked so much like Sirius you wanted nothing more than to comfort him, you hastily realised how awful you had been.

“You never…” you swallowed. “You didn’t snitch on us.” He shook his head. You sighed, you face falling. “BIoody hell, I’m an asshole,” you said thinking back to all the times you had ignored and blown off the boy, your boyfriend’s little brother for fucks sake.

“You didn’t know,” he tried to reassure.

“Ignorance is no excuse,” you managed to say, disgusted with the way you had treated the poor boy. A boy who –and you had noticed from the beginning– craved a decent friendship, some kind of human connection. All the attachment you had felt for him before the escapade at the hotel came crashing back, and you groaned and how much of an asshole you had been “Sorry.”

He shrugged, “Does that… does that mean you don’t hate me anymore?”

You sighed again, cringing at yourself for causing such an impression on him. “Of course, I don’t fucking hate you Reggie. I was pissed, I AM pissed, I…” you struggled to form a coherent sentence .“I trusted you, besides Sirius warning, I trusted you because it was what my gut told me to do and then… then I thought you had betrayed us and I was pissed, I was pissed at you, at my parents at your parents, at Sirius who didn’t admit it was my idea and…” you sucked in a breath, “I was pissed with myself, for being foolish enough to trust you.”

“I’m sorry…”

You shook your head, taking a step closer, the urge to comfort him almost taking over, “No Reg… It’s me, I AM sorry, for not giving you a chance to–” You remembered the train, the race, the other times Regulus had tried to approach you and you had either ignored him or scowled at him to scare him away “–And you tried so many times.”

He laughed at himself, “I’ve been told I’m rather stubborn.”

You let out a breathy laugh. “Reminds me of someone.”

“Will you…” He hesitated, “Will you tell Sirius?” he asked, a mix of frightened and hopeful.

You nodded, “He needs to know, he’s… resentful.”

Regulus swallowed, another one of those expressions you had seen your boyfriend do, his eyes were still red, his breath was heavy and he looked like he was about to burst into a panic attack, you took another step towards him, reaching your hand to grab onto his arm before you stopped yourself. “Do you mind it if I–” you started, “can I hug you?”

He turned to you, a little shocked at your request, Regulus looked like he desperately needed a hug, you weren’t sure if your hug was the one he needed, but you hoped you could comfort him, if only to take back a little bit of the evil you had done to him, even if it was under the wrong belief.

Eventually, he nodded and you leaned closer, wrapping your arms around him, he was taller than you, unlike when you’d met, shorter than Sirius, but taller than you regardless. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, “for being a piece of shit.”

“You didn’t know.”

“I should have known. I just needed someone to blame and then Sirius–”

“It’s fine now,” he said with a smile. You don’t hate me anymore. Regulus seemed to relax as you rubbed your hand on his back, trying to comfort him as best as you could, and then he pulled back. “You have a party to attend to,” he told you, motioning to the side. “You were brilliant today.”

You smiled, “Bullshit, I pretended to know where the snitch was just to get Barty off Gale’s back.”

“And you fooled him,” he added with a bit of a smile. ��That’s no easy feat.”

You shrugged, “You certainly helped.”

“That’s what friends are for.”

You swallowed. “Did you… did you let me win?” you asked with a frown.

He looked at you, eyebrows raised, “I would never let you win!” he said disdainfully, a whisper of the disagreeable Reggie you had met at the park. “It wouldn’t be fair to you.”

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. “So that means I won fair and square.”

“You jumped off your fucking broom to get the snitch, of course, you won fair and square.”

You shrugged, “I knew I had the swamp marble, and I was gonna fall off the broom anyway.”

He clenched his jaw, “Fucking Barty.”

“I can deal with him, don’t keep messing around or you’ll end up with a shaved head or something one day.” He placed a hand on his hair, looking slightly panicked and you laughed. “You’re so much like Sirius is ridiculous.”

He frowned at that. “Just go to your party.”

You smiled again, holding a laugh as you turned around, deciding not to tease him further, but you turned back to him “Hey Reg… Will you be alright?”

He looked at you and nodded. “I’ve got you as an ally now, of course, I’ll be alright.”

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A/N: You guys, I had some people asking me about Reggie for a while and I did mention that eventually things would be fixed up between him and the reader, didn't I? I know it took a while but it was sooo satisfying to write this one, and I've been wanting to see your reactions since I wrote it a few weeks ago, I really hope you enjoyed it <;3 Reggie deserves all the love!

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foone · 3 months

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Apollo 19 on approach to the unknown Soviet module

You could cut the tension with a knife. Mission Control is furiously chewing gum, like only a man whose recently been told he's not allowed to smoke in here can. The screen is showing mostly static, but there's enough visibility to see that it's definitely a Soviet module that the Apollo 19 mission is approaching.

Albertson, a young guy of about 22, comes in with a couple binders. "I've got those mission briefs, sir." "Great, great. Chaffee is almost close enough to read the insignia, and then we can figure this crap out." Another phone rings. He ignores it. This mission is screwed up enough without some white house bureaucrat breathing down his neck.

Chaffee's radio signal lights up. "I'm close enough to read the markings. It looks like it's C-O-Ю-З... 2. Over." and a burst of static.

Albertson drops a binder on the floor, the sound making everyone jump, like the Space module a hundred miles over their head might jump out and bite them. Control spots the right binder among the ones still perched on the desk, and grabs it himself.

"Here it is. Soyuz 2, launched back in '68, unmanned. It was supposed to be docked with Soyuz 3, but they gave up and the mission was a failure. Says here that it deorbited 28th of October, 1968. Huh..."

He looks up at the big clock on the wall. It's 9:18 AM, 3rd of July... 1972.

He motions to Stevenson. "Give him the go-ahead. He should know how to open the hatch, we covered this in training." He zones out as Stevenson relays the information. What in the Sam Hill is a Soviet rocket doing in lunar orbit, nearly four years after the blasted thing is supposed to have landed? Did the commies cover up what they were really doing with this rocket? Is his information wrong? Is the damn CIA lying to them again?" and he reaches into his shirt for a pack of smokes that isn't there, for about the 14th time today. He's shaken back to reality by the image showing up on the screen: There's a Krechet-94 spacesuit in the module. There's only one reason a spacesuit would be in an "unmanned" module... this mission wasn't as unmanned as everyone says.

On the screen, Chaffee is reaching into the cramped pod. The suit's sun visor is down, thankfully, he's happen for one less scare today. Chaffee is looking at the suit's indicators, but they're all blank. If someone was alive in there... they aren't anymore. He fumbles with the bottom of the helmet's gold-colored visor, and Control vaguely hears Stevenson relaying to Chaffee that there should be two plastic clips by the bottom which can be used to raise the sun visor. Chaffee gets it, and slowly raises the visor. The death's head, the smiling skull... it's always an almost comical image, even when you rationally know that a skeleton is the result of a living and breathing person who has died and decayed. Control saw plenty of dead bodies back in the war, but usually they weren't this far gone.

Chaffee cuts in on the mic, saying the obvious. Yep, Houston, if you can't see this... it's a skeleton. He says he'll check the uniform for a name. Behind Control, Albertson finally stands back up and ends up dropping the binder all over again, and this time even more people jump. "My god!" he nearly shouts. Control needs a cigarette more than ever.

Albertson peers past Control at the screen. "The Soviets... were sending skeletons into space?"

Control tells Stevenson to take over, he needs to make a call. It's a lie, there's no call, he's just not going to make it through today without a smoke break. And as for Albertson... "Albertson, get the hell out of here. You're too damn stupid to be working at NASA. No, they didn't launch skeletons, you complete... GAH."

The mission carries on. Control gets his cigarette. Albertson goes off to be a fool somewhere else.

#my writing #smoking cw

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northoftheroad · 11 months

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Dick Grayson reading in Rebirth and forward

In the last few years, there have been several comics where Nightwing is guest starring that I haven't picked up, so maybe I have missed some smashing comics in here; just saying. As usual, take this list for what it's worth – my personal interpretations and reflections. (Please note that there is a difference between cover date and when a book is actually published, and I might have mixed these dates in the list. I mostly use them to help my own thought process.)

I gather DC lets their creators play in any sandbox/Earth/continuity they want, which means it's a fool's errand to try to understand what, if any, stories from Dick's past are supposed to have happened in the current continuity. But I never claimed to be quite sane, did I...? Here is me, trying to piece together stories chronologically story-wise:

Nightwing vol 4 # 82. Flashbacks to pre-Dick John and Mary Grayson.

Batman vol 3 # 54. Has some flashbacks from when Dick was new in Wayne Manor. He has nightmares, climbs a chandelier, questions why Bruce took him in, and apparently doesn't know Bruce is Batman: nothing special but a few nice pages.

The Precedent. In Detective Comics # 1000 (2019). Bruce's hesitation before he lets Dick become Robin. Unclear if it's supposed to be in the current continuity.

Robin and Batman # 1–3 (2021-2022). A three-issue story that takes place in the days around Dick's twelfth birthday. It's about how Dick eventually chooses not to be "the dark" like Batman, but something better – the light, Robin. Not in the main continuity, but another version of how Dick became Robin (also a first meeting with the other original Teen Titans - in this version, they already had suits and code names when Dick first became Robin).

Batman: Urban Legends # 23

Hot pursuit. In Batman: Urban Legends # 23 (March 2023). Cute short story; Robin drives the Batmobile for the first time (his second year as Robin).

Batman One bad day: Mr Freeze. (2022) Probably not set in the main continuity, Robin is small and wears a winter suit.

Batman/Superman: World's Finest vol 1 (2022). One of my favourite books from the current era (written by Mark Waid). It has a different tone than other in-continuity books (in a good way), but it is connected; the first story arc is a prequel to Batman vs Robin and the Lazarus Planet event. Dick has been Robin for a few years in the book except for a few panels. My favourite issue is # 6, when Dick is lost in the past, works in a circus and solves a mystery.

Batman/Superman (2019) # 16–21 and Annual 2021 # 1 is an outstanding story with DickRobin, albeit not the main Earth version.

Nightwing vol 4 # 78. There are a few pages of flashbacks, what might be Dick and Barbara's first meeting, fighting bullies at school. The bully, Shelton Lyle, will later turn out to be the villain Heartless – Nightwing fighting him is a story that keeps getting set on hold.

Batgirl vol 5 # 14–17 (October 2017– January 2018). Guest starring Nightwing, including flashbacks to when he was Robin and Dick and Barbara were in High School. Nothing special.

World's Finest: Teen Titans (2023). New book about the Teen Titans (the original five plus Bumblebee) when they're starting, also written by Mark Waid. One issue has been published so far; Robin is struggling with combining Batman's distrust with leading the team.

Nightwing vol 4 # 92. Another couple of flashback pages, from Dick's time as Robin, when he took on more than he could chew and got hurt saving a guy's life. Alfred refuses to let Bruce into Dick's bedroom unless he removes the cowl "and leave your disapproval at the door".

"A little nudge". In Robin 80th Anniversary Special (2020). It's probably not the latest official story about how Dick left Robin to become Nightwing, but I wouldn't mind if it were. Dick leaves Robin by his own choice; Bruce is a bit of a jerk because he's not emotionally mature enough to say, "I know you've grown up and should move on; I'll be fine without you."

Nightwing vol 4 # 79. Flashback page of Dick leaving the Manor, saying, "He fired me, Alfred" (he's eighteen at the time). So evidently, Tom Taylor goes with that version in his writing.

Nightwing vol 4 # 39

Nightwing vol 4 # 39. Flashback to when Dick was a student in Blüdhaven, after leaving Robin and before he became Nightwing. He goes out to look for a murderer dressed in old workout clothes that looks a lot like his original Nightwing suit. Part of the best story arc of Nightwing vol 4, so don't miss it!

Red Hood and the Outlaws vol 2 Annual # 1. A team-up issue with Nightwing with a flashback to when Jason saw the Flying Graysons. And to their first meeting at Wayne Manor, which didn't go well because Alfred decided to give newcomer Jason Dick's bedroom because the Manor evidently suffers from a shortage of beds... <insert rolling eyes emoji here> Eminently skippable issue...

Nightwing Annual 2021

Nightwing Annual 2021 (2022). Part of the book is a flashback story. Dick, who lives at the Titans tower, talks about how Bruce fired him and got a replacement. But when Alfred asks him to visit (calling Bruce his father), he comes to see Jason, who complains about how it's impossible to live up to the standard Dick set as Robin. They take the Batmobile (with Alfred's blessing) and head out. It seems to be their first meeting, which makes RHATO vol Annual 2 # 1 obsolete.

Nightwing vol 4 # 89. A team-up with Jon Kent/Superman, starting with a few pages flashback to their first meeting when Jon was getting his powers. Dick is wearing his red New 52 Nightwing suit.

Titans (2016–2019). I think the series was pretty meh, though Annual # 1 and Special # 1 have badass Nightwing moments.

DC Rebirth Holiday Special (2016) # 1, has a nice Titans story but nothing of further importance.

Rebirth Nightwing # 1. Dick returns to being Nightwing after the Grayson run, all set to pretend to work for the Parliament of Owls (see Robin War, part of New 52).

Nightwing vol 4 # 1 (September 2017) – # 4. Better than Batman. Nightwing is working undercover with the Parliament, partnered with the new character Raptor who, it turns out, loved his mum and has a personal vendetta with Bruce Wayne because he took Dick from his roots.

Monster men. A storyline with the villain Professor Hugo Strange in Nightwing # 5-6, Batman # 7-8, Detective Comics # 941–942 (and some more books I haven't read). Dick is temporarily transformed into a monster and later saves the day by jumping into a monster to administer some antitherapy. Nothing of future importance but some nice panels regarding how well Dick knows Bruce.

Nightwing vol 4 # 7–8 (January 2017). Rise of Raptor. Nightwing discovers that Raptor has been stalking Dick Grayson since childhood. Raptor abducts Bruce Wayne and puts him in a death trap, but Nightwing saves him when he jumps. I quite enjoy the Raptor stories, I have to say.

Nightwing vol 4 # 9 (January 2017). A team-up with Superman, who was not a guy he knew at the time since this Superman had come from the pre-Flashpoint universe and somehow merged with New 52 Superman (no, I still don't understand it). It mostly takes place in Dick's dreams. Known for a quote from Superman: "Of everyone I've met here, you're the least changed from the version I knew. Always confident, always kind, always cool. Dick Grayson – the multiversal constant."

Nightwing vol 4 # 10 (February 2017) – 14 (April 2017). Dick moves to Blüdhaven (I think people got their memories or stolen time back at some time in Rebirth, which would explain how he was new in the city here, but had lived and been a cop there (as in Nightwing vol 2) later in vol 4.) He volunteers for a program for teens at a community centre, where he meets Shawn Tsang/Defacer, an "art terrorist" Batman and Robin once fought back in the day. Nightwing works to prove she and Gorilla Grim aren't murderers.

Batman vol 3 # 16 (April 2017) Has a fun couple of pages with Bruce and Dick, Jason, Damian and Duke at Bat Burger; Bruce warns the boys to stay out of Gotham and out of Bane's way, which Dick, Jason and Damian, of course, disregard. The issue ends with Batman finding them hanging by their necks in the Batcave. In # 17, we see they survived, and Bruce has left them frozen with Superman at the Fortress of Solitude for safekeeping.

Nightwing vol 4 # 15 (April 2017). Dick and Shawn Tsang/Defacer start dating. Interlude with many guest stars whom Dick talks to about his new life in Blüdhaven.

Nightwing vol 4 # 20

Nightwing vol 4 # 16 – 20 (July 2017). Nightwing Must Die. Nice if you want to see Dick and Damian together again. Shawn is abducted while having a pregnancy scare, and Damian follows Dick to save her. (He went to Blüdhaven because he was upset people counted on Dick to become the Batman after Bruce's retirement, but later confesses he was unsure what his place in Dick's life was now.) Dick is cut with a knife made from the nth metal and see visions of himself from different realities. Villains: Professor Pyg and Doctor Simon Hurt, both from Dick and Damian's time as Batman and Robin.

Nightwing vol 4 # 21 (July 2017). Nightwing and Flash (Wally West) hang out, fights criminals and save each other's lives.

Nightwing vol 4 # 22–25 (August – September 2017). Blockbuster, the villain whose death in Nightwing vol 2 was a huge deal, is suddenly alive and menacing Blüdhaven and Nightwing again. Dick is job-hunting and ends up taking a job as a blackjack dealer to keep an eye on Blockbuster, who had earlier sold him out to Tiger Shark, a villain Dick fought as Batman in Black Mirror. # 24–25 has a pretty badass fight, Nightwing vs a boatload of villains, and he also saves everyone by hotwiring a contraption to expand a bubble that freezes time. Shawn breaks up with Dick.

Nightwing vol 4 # 26–28 (October – November 2017). Spyral. Huntress/Helena Bertinelli, whom Dick met during the Grayson run (New 52 era), turns up. They work together on a case, ending up at the Spiral headquarter, and start a relationship.

Batman vol 3 # 33–35 (December 2017 – January 2018). At Wayne Manor, Alfred tells Dick, Jason, Damian and Duke that Bruce intends to marry Selina while the latter two are on some mission in Khadym. Damian is upset because his mother is in Khadym, and Dick accompanies him there in the following issues. Some nice moments here and there, but I've never cared for Tom King's (the writer) grand Batman arc.

Dark Nights: Metal. Storyline 2017–2018. (including Nightwing # 29) where Batman discovers a Dark Multiverse.

Nightwing vol 4 # 30 – 34 (February 2018). Raptor's Revenge. Raptor gets involved in Nightwing’s fight with Blockbuster. Helena/Huntress breaks up with Dick. # 32 has flashback to Dick and Raptor at the circus and the death of his parents.

Batman vol 3 # 45–47 (June - July 2018). Booster Gold goes back in time to save Bruce's parents as a wedding gift. This completely alters the past, and for some reason, Dick becomes a Batman who fights a city of Jokers with lethal violence. Some amusing wackiness about what has happened to different characters – Selina is a serial killer, Tim has a menial job, and Jason has invented tires that give tire thieves a deadly shock of electricity, but nothing of future importance.

Nightwing vs Hush

Batman: Prelude to the Wedding. Nightwing vs Hush (2018) is a great issue for a Nightwing fan. Nightwing and Superman are taking Batman for a bachelor’s party, but Hush attacks them and he and Dick are transported to another universe (where Hush perishes, which hasn’t stopped him from turning up back in the main universe). Robin vs Ra's al Ghul has a tiny Nightwing as Damian's "good angel" on his shoulder, which is a fun but minor detail.

Batgirl vol 5 # 25. Takes place just after the failed wedding between Bruce and Selina. Barbara needs a friend; Dick takes her to the empty honeymoon suit. They talk as close friends about love, and Dick comes across as quite the romantic. Quite a nice story, in my opinion.

Nightwing vol 4 # 35

Nightwing vol 4 # 35–41 (February – May 2018)The Untouchable. My favourite arc of vol 4 so far, written by Sam Humphries (I'm sure he was supposed to stay longer because he talked in an interview about wanting to bring back Dick's Uncle George from Batman vol 1 # 22, but he only wrote the one arc). Includes some flashbacks to Dick’s time as Robin, and when he was a student post-Robin. He starts a new business, Grayson cross train studio.

Nightwing vol 4 # 42 (June 2018). Enjoyable one-shot. Damian tells his pets about how Dick saved him from capture in Tokyo. They pick up a dragon on the way.

Nightwing vol 4 # 43 (June 2018). Another enjoyable one-shot, with Dick, Damian and Roy Harper/Arsenal, bickering and fighting bad guys.

Nightwing vol 4 # 44–47 (July – October 2018). The Bleeding Edge, a story arc with malevolent virtual reality and the "dark web". Feel free to skip it.

Nightwing/Magilla Gorilla Special # 1 (October 2018). As a crossover with a Hanna-Barbera character, presumably not set in the usual DC universe... But I rather enjoyed it; it was a nice little murder mystery and lots of thinking about the circus and Dick's parents. Though I wouldn't personally rush to the cinema for a movie about The Flying Graysons with gorillas as actors...

Nightwing vol 4 # 48–49 (November 2018). Harm's way, the conclusion of the Dark Web storyline. If you enjoy Nightwing on a motorbike and being a badass fighter, why not? I can't say the story made an impact or had consequences since Dick would spend the following two years (maybe half a year, in-universe) as Ric.

The Murder Club (in Batman: Urban Legends # 19–23, November 2022 – March 2023 ). Martha and Thomas Wayne turn up in the Batcave, apparently taken from the time before they were killed. The story has Bruce, Dick, Damian and Alfred and is good if one like the family feels. (Not sure if any story in Urban Legends is supposed to be "canon" for the current continuity, but time-wise, Damian is dressed in Robin colours, Alfred is alive etc.)

Batman vol 3 # 51 (September 2018). Dick stands in as Batman while Bruce is called for jury duty.

DC's Crime of Passion # 1 (February 2020), has some Dick/Barbara, nothing you can't miss, in my opinion.

Batman vol 3 # 54–55. # 54 goes between flashbacks from when Dick was new in Wayne Manor and apparently doesn't know Bruce is Batman and Nightwing trying to cheer up Batman after Seline dumped him. In # 55, Dick is shot in the head by KG Beast (just another of Tom King's plot points to make Batman as miserable as possible). In Batman # 56-57, Batman hunts down KG Beast. Again, these issues have some pleasant character moments. Still, I'm not a fan of the overall plot or the result for Dick (I've read that Tom King was open to healing Dick magically pretty much straight away, but someone wanted to "take advantage" of the situation...)

Nightwing vol 4 Annual # 2. Partly set just after Dick was shot. Bruce tries to jog his memory by showing him a video of when he was shot, further traumatizing him and leading to him storming out.

Nightwing vol 4 # 50 (December 2018) – 74 (November 2020). Dick lives in Blüdhave as "Ric" and has forgotten everything for approximately the last 15 years. He wants nothing to do with his former family and starts dating Bea Bennett. Meanwhile, four other people use his old suits to go out as vigilantes since the real Nightwing has disappeared. Besides the shot in the head, he is brainwashed (with the help of a magical crystal, if I understood correctly) to help his Talon grandfather William Cobb make him a Talon (he is, for a few issues). The Joker later gets hold of the crystal and makes Dick believe the Joker fostered him and that he is "Dicky boy". He fights the other bats before it's all over...

Nightwing vol 4 # 74 (November 2020). Dick starts to get his memories back.

Batman vol 3 # 99 (November 2020). Bruce gives Dick his Nightwing suit back after two years of suffering (for us readers) with Ric, Talons and Joker War, but not really worth reading for that.

Dark Nights: Death Metal. Reality-shattering, complicated storyline 2020–2021 with lots of evil Batmen. I have read very little of it, but Dick is newly back from "Ric". In Justice League # 53–57 (Doom Metal parts 1–5), he and some others are physically D&E-transformed while fighting. In Dark Nights: Death Metal The Last Stories of the DC Universe, there are some nice Titans moments (also, Batman performs a one-panel "wedding" with Dick and Barbara...)

Nightwing vol 4 # 78 – > (March 2021 and onward) The current run of Nightwing starts (writer Tom Taylor, art mostly Bruno Redondo). After the relaunch Infinite Frontier, parts of Dick's pre-Flashpoint history in Blüdhaven have been restored. He has, for instance, been a cop and lives in the apartment building he bought during Nightwing vol 2. In my opinion, the run is visually great and full of lovely moments between Dick and his friends and family, but it's overly sweet and kind of boring, though many people seem to love the writing too.

Nightwing vol 4 # 78 (2021). Dick adopts a three-legged puppy (Haley/Bitewing) and is told he inherited Alfred's billions (he is currently richer than Bruce). He now lives in the block of flats in Blüdhave that was ostensibly destroyed in Nightwing vol 2.

Nightwing vol 4 # 80. Nightwing's first meeting with the villain Heartless, who steals hearts. That was 2021, and Dick still hasn't stopped Heartless or spent a lot of time chasing him because of so many interruptions.

Nightwing vol 4 # 82

Nightwing vol 4 # 81–82. He discovers he has an older half-sister, Melinda Zucco, conceived before John and Mary were married but brought up as the daughter of Tony Zucco. She is sworn in as the new Mayor of Blüdhaven. A big part of # 82 is flashbacks to the Grayson's and Melinda's backstory. Blockbuster, who should already be dead if what happened in Nightwing vol 2 is canon again, turns up as an adversary again (is later killed in # 94)

Nightwing vol 4 # 83. Dick announces The Alfred Pennyworth Foundation to make Blüdhaven a better place for everyone. The first goal is to ensure that no one lives on the streets a month later, "because it's getting colder".

Without a net. Unpublished tales from the DC vault # 2. (2021) One shot that is possibly supposed to take place in the current continuity; there's at least nothing to contradict it. Dick takes on a task because he feels he's the most qualified to dive 30000 feet from a flying castle (?!) into a lagoon.

Robin vol 3 # 5 (2021). The four former Robins chase after Damian, who has temporarily left Lazarus Island and wants to discuss what's happening. He gives them the slip – except Dick, who catches up with Damian and gives him a birthday present. They talk a bit, and Dick lets him go, telling the others that they will tell Batman "That we trust Damian and have faith in him." So a nice issue if you're looking for a few pages of Dick and Damian interaction.

Nightwing vol 4 # 84–86. Part of the crossover Fear State, where Scarecrow wants to control Gotham City using fear gas.

Titans Academy (2021–2022). I was never interested in picking up the book, but I guess it happened parallel to the Nightwing book until the start of Dark Crisis.

Nightwing Annual 2021 (2022). A tale of two brothers, Dick and Jason, now and then (when Jason was Robin). Dick refuses to believe Jason/Red Hood is killing people again and helps him clear it up, combined with a likeable flashback with Nightwing and JasonRobin.

Nightwing vol 4 # 88 (2022). Dick Grayson is targeted at the ceremony for starting to build Haven. It's kind of a nice issue if you like seeing what a great guy Dick is and his friends rushing to his side. Dick gets a new Nightwing suit made by Mr Terrific.

Nightwing vol 4 # 89, Superman: Son of Ka-El # 9. A team-up with Jon Kent/Superman, starting with a flashback to their first meeting when Jon was getting his powers.

"The Director" (in Batman: Urban Legends # 22-23). A story with Dick and Barbara takes place in Blüdhaven; not really my cup of tea, but readable.

Nightwing vol 4 # 90–91, Dick's building in Blüdhaven is blown up, Barbara is kidnapped, and a master assassain comes after Dick. Guest starring Wally West/The Flash, guest villain KG Beast, the gut who shot Dick back in Batman # 55.

Nightwing vol 4 # 96–97. I think it's fair to say Dick and Barbara are a couple at this stage.

Nightwing vol 3 # 98

Nightwing vol 4 # 98 (2023). Dick gets his own imp from the Fifth Dimension, Nite-Mite. He ships Dick with Starfire but teleports friends and family in to wed Dick and Barbare. (Ok, I thought it was a rather fun issue...) Introducing Olivia, daughter of Blockbuster, who sold her soul to the devil Neron; Neron is on his way to collect her soul. Nightwing & Co save her.

Nightwing vol 4 # 99. Nightwing catches Tony Zucco, who is violating parole with attempted robbery. Melinda changes her last name to Grayson-Lin.

Justice League: Road to Dark Crisis # 1, Dark Crisis on Infinite Earths # 1–7 (2022). An event where the Justice League is presumed dead (Nightwing is sure they will come back), and super criminals attack en masse. Along the way, "the Great Darkness" tries to take Nightwing as its new host, but he fights it off. At the end of the event, the Justice League disbanded. I'm pretty fed up with big events (great art, though), but Dick is a central character, the first legacy hero, and the light in the dark for Batman. It sets him up as an important leader for the superhero community going forward.

Batman vs Robin # 3 (November 2022). Damian is possessed and recruits the four former Robins to fight Batman for him in this lead-up to the event Lazarus Planet. Dick gets the sword of sin, and Batman, waiting for him to attack, thinks, "Hand-to-hand, the toughest of them all". In the end, Batman pushes Alfred (or rather, some kind of replica of Alfred from the afterlife, as a spy for the demon Nezha) on Dick's sword to get him to hesitate so Batman can knock him out. (I should say I've only read this issue of the book. Damian and Bruce fighting got old a long time ago, IMO.)

Nightwing vol 4 # 100. Heartless stages a mass breakout from Blüdhaven's private prison, which is destroyed. Nightwing talks a lot of the escapees into changing sides. The Titans come to help. Guest villain again, KG Beast. Superman and Wonder Woman asks Dick to lead – not the Justice League, which currently is disbanded – but whatever kind of protection he chooses. Dick buys the destroyed prison to build a new Titans tower there. Dick and Bruce have a heartfelt talk by Alfred's grave, though it's debatable if "I love you, Dad" is in character for Dick to say.

Nightwing vol 4 # 101–104. The Titans work together to save Olivia from Neron. Including Dick getting superpowers like that of Superman, when Neron tries to tempt him. Back-up story of Nightwing and Jon/Superman, working a case at a circus.

Titans (2023). The adult Titans are working from Blüdhaven while the Justice League is (probably very temporarily ) disbanded in this new book. It's only been a couple of issues, but I've been enjoying it so far (though I have a hard time with the pairing Beast Boy/Raven, since I know them well from the NTT ear).

Books clearly set outside the main continuity

Future State: Nightwing # 2

Future State: Nightwing # 1–2 (2021), Future State: Gotham (2021–2022) As far as I'm concerned, DC's Future State titles are stories from possible alternate futures that will never come to pass. But it was nice to see Dick written as competent and tinkering with inventions. The Future State stories continued in Future State Gotham, where Dick used the enhancing drug Brane to gain an edge in the fight against the Magistrate and assorted villains and, in the end, sacrificed himself. It didn't seem worth reading, from what I've seen.

Future State: Teen Titans # 1–2. Another possible future book, it’s not as good as the Nightwing version, IMO.

Batman Beyond (2016) vol 6. Dick is the mayor of Blüdhaven and has a daughter who becomes Batwoman in this version of Batman Beyond. To my knowledge, he is in a number of issues starting with # 25.

Batman/Catwoman, a 12-issue Black Label miniseries (2021–2022). Yet another book set in a possible future (or maybe an alternate universe). Dick is the Police Commissioner of Gotham. I haven't read the whole series, but Dick has a minor role.

In the Dark Multiverse, you can see Dick as a Talon, die during the Judas contract or be murdered by Damian if you like. (Tales from the Dark Multiverse: Hush, Teen Titans: The Judas Contract, and Deathstroke (2016) # 50.)

Titans United (2021) and Titans United: Bloodpact (2022) was two limited series that was probably published to lure in readers that liked the Titans tv show, though it wasn't a tie-in. Pretty entertaining Titans stories with different team members. The digital-first Titans: Titans Together book (2020) also didn't connect to what's going on in other books but was all right reading.

– – –

Posted on July 16, 2023. Time will tell if it will get edited/updated in the future.

#Dick Grayson #Nightwing #Robin #Batman #reading guides

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fractualized · 1 year

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hi!! i hope you don’t mind me asking this but i recently read harleen (specifically issue 1) and wondered if you might know of any other comics that have an outsider perspective of batjokes? thanks !!

I don't mind at all, anon! I also enjoy in-universe outside perspectives on Batman and Joker's relationship (and I've included quite a bit of it in fic). Harleen #1 does have a pretty great one:

The most common commentary on Batman and Joker from other characters is the ol' "why haven't you killed him yet?!" but that reflects more frustration than any inkling of the connection between Gotham's most famous nemeses. So with the help of @distort-opia, I wrangled panels from a couple dozen comics that show characters having a better (even if incomplete) understanding of what the heck is going on there.

Many of these may already be familiar if you've been around batjokes fandom long enough. Regardless, spoilers abound!

I've ordered these (mostly) in cover date order.

June 1996 - The Batman Chronicles #5

This is a flashback that takes place shortly after The Killing Joke. Barbara is understandably bitter about being fridged, and it's clear that officers who saw Batman and Joker laughing together have spread the word, because heyyyyy wtf?

October 1996 - Catwoman (1993) #38

Selina knows releasing other rogues is a good distraction; Batman is always more concerned about Joker than her.

May 1997 - Batman: Batgirl

Before this, Joker was firing his gun willy-nilly, hitting his own men, and he hit Batman accidentally. Barbara doesn't seem to think he fully understands the consequences of killing Batman, especially given the surprise he shows when Batman goes down.

Five years later, this story gets retold (with a worse rendition of Joker's fantastic oufit):

July 2002 - DC First: Batgirl/Joker

In this version, Barbara more actively realizes she needs to get at Joker by laughing at him, because he's caught up in a reality where Batman is the only other real person. (Not sure if this is the first comic to posit that idea, but it has shown up elsewhere.)

February 1999 - Catwoman (1993) #65

Joker has been terrorizing Catwoman for Batman-related reasons for a few issues, and she knows that saying she's killed Batman will devastate him. (You know, the more stories like this I see, the more I see Tom King actually didn't have too far a walk to jokerize Selina.)

August 2001 - Batman: Legends of the Dark Knight (1989) #144

Alfred has noticed that Joker's presence affects Bruce's behavior.

September 2003 - Batman: Gotham Knights #43

This take from Barbara is set before TKJ and meant to foreshadow (aftershadow?) it. Here she shows a better understanding of Batman and Joker's relationship than Bruce does.

October 2003 - Outsiders (2003) #3

Luthor knows just how to get under Joker's skin.

March 2011 - Streets of Gotham #19

Hush also knows how to get under Joker's skin.

March 2011 - Gotham City Sirens #19

Selina and Harley are thinking more about themselves here, but it's not hard to connect the dots. Joker is part of the criminal morass that Bruce is focused on fighting, and Joker's focus is constantly on how to best the Batman.

November 2011 - Batman: Noël

Bruce has been told that Catwoman has information about the Joker's whereabouts. Note that Selina isn't saying she's aware that Joker is up to something right now; she implies that Batman is always thinking about Joker. It's a fact she can bank on.

May 2013 - Injustice: Gods Among Us #4 (digital release #11)

Perhaps the most infamous example. This is related to the "why won't you kill him?" trope, but Clark's accusation takes it further by directly saying it's because Bruce loves fighting Joker more than he loves his friends and family.

Clark says something similar about Joker being Bruce's playmate in another comic:

August 2014 - Adventures of Superman (2013) #14 (digital release #41

Even outside of the Injustice universe, Clark knows Bruce's priorities are out of whack when it comes to Joker.

January 2013 - Catwoman (2011) #14

Selina just stating the obvious here, again after a now-faceless Joker has tormented her for Batman-related reasons for a couple issues.

April 2016 - Batman (2011) #49

Heartbreaking example from Alfred here. He watched Bruce's obsessiveness and understood that Bruce, consciously or subconsciously, saw dying with Joker as his destiny. He probably suspects that Joker didn't really die either and knows they're going to end up back on the same track.

April 2016 - Batman: Europa #4

These panels sum up Europa. Bane, always looking for fresh ways to break the Bat, saw Joker as a clear catalyst (even if he had to make up a convoluted plot to make Batman see it first).

January 2017 - All-Star Batman #4 (backer)

Duke is pretty much repeating Bruce's soliloquy from Death of the Family here, so he's not saying anything Bruce doesn't really know, but he doesn't know that Bruce knows. lol Interestingly, this happens before Dark Days: The Casting, in which Duke watches Joker demonstrate his love in a more positive way by trying to stop Bruce from blundering into everything that happens in Dark Nights: Metal and beyond.

January 2018 - Batman: White Knight #2

White Knight is problematic from a batjokes standpoint (and other standpoints!) but poor Harley presents another infamous outsider perspective here.

October 2018 - Harley/Gossamer Special

She's right and right to say it!

August 2020 - Birds of Prey (2020)

This take is interesting in how it posits that Joker already felt unfulfilled by Batman by the time he met Harley and that she was kind of a rebound.

August 2020 - The Joker 80th Anniversary 100-Page Super Spectacular

This is from "The Last Smile," in which Harley reveals Joker's recurring nightmare about Batman mocking him as he's put to death. Joker didn't picture Harley appearing to save him, but perhaps he felt like Batman's respect was "saving" him all the long.

September 2020 - Batgirl (2016) #47

Nooooo! That's the thing he's sensitive about!

April 2021 - Batman/Catwoman #3

I have… a lot of thoughts about Batman/Catwoman, few positive, but if you can push past the muddling storytelling technique (and the batcat if that's not your thing), Selina has a lot to say about Bruce and Joker's relationship, like in this and the following example.

May 2021 - Batman/Catwoman #4

Catwoman describes how Batman treats all his rogues and then equates that with how he treats his lovers. How much do you know, Selina? Who is Joker's main competition?? It's Harvey, isn't it?!

May 2022 - Detective Comics (2016) #1058 (backer)

Even newbie F-level antagonists like The Forgotten know what's up!

Well, that was a lengthy but surely not exhaustive account of what other DC characters think about the vibes between the Dark Knight and Clown Prince of Crime. (May they be bewildered for years to come!) I hope you spotted some comics that caught your interest, anon.

#batjokes #joker #batman #analysis #kinda

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punkeropercyjackson · 2 months

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Spiderband groupchat headcanons but it's based off my bio siblings and friends who're teenagers that i also consider my younger siblings because Y'all Do Not Know How To Write Teens

It's called 'Websters Declassified'

It was Margo's idea to start it obviously

Miles already had a groupchat app that she used for her family but the rest of the band except Gayatri had to install them-Gwen and Miles G DID have one but she took it off because she only ever used it with 65 Peter and she had multiple meltdowns looking through their messages so she forced herself to out of mental safety and he smashed his phone in agonized sadness after finding out about Jefferson so all the data on it was lost

Gayatri has an additional old one she uses for school friends since she's so popular and dosen't want to fuck up and accidentally send Spiderwoman stuff to them

The layout of it has a notebook theme and is popular among black people thanks to it containing various exclusive black stickers and emojis and that's why Miles and Margo both use it

Hobie's a bit of a grandpa when it comes to technology because of being from the 70s and not having been at Spider Society for that long so he had a hard time communicating in it at first,not helped by his cockney

Peni is reverse where she considers it slighty obselete thanks to her futuristic world but in a charming shaking her head 'This old thing' way(Just like she does with Noir /hj)

Their icons are:Miles-a black/blasian edit of Orihime Inoue,Gwen-A random picture of a half eaten pink cupcake she took,Peni-A lesbian flag meme,Pavitr-Bugs Bunny,Hobie-A black/blasian edit of Ichigo Kurosaki to match Miles(They are LITERALLY black4black Ichihime),Gayatri-Bugs Bunny but in one of her fem outfits,Margo-Nessa from Pokemon with a pink filter and Miles G-A cartoony drawing of a black kid with braids

They use it almost every day and night-It actually messed up a few of their sleep schedules but they fixed them again when it started going too far by reminding the other to go to sleep because they love them and deserve good health

Gwen sends them her audio files,either as gifts by covering their favorite songs or just to try out how a new song sounds

Pavitr violently falls over from so much bouncing with his phone getting the brunt of it SO many times but it's somehow always completely intact despite having no special protection

It's where Miles came out to them after her egg cracked but she did because they were all sitting together physically so she'd have them there to comfort them as she sobbed in a big flurry of different emotions

The other girls then start sending her transfem memes on a regular basis and Miles G is actually the one who made her her Orihime pfp

They tried to have movie nights but the collective audhd proved to be too much so they just have normal ones

It's incredibly active and a mixed ass bag,one second they be talking about Spiderjunk,the next someone's venting to the point you can feel them shaking through their texts and then they're discussing the history of legos

Peni's the one who most uses it in class and had a special mini comic where she got it back from her principal and didn't learned her lesson at the end

Since Miles uses kamojis,Margo is a gifs addict

They learned a lot about eachother cultures,more than ever

Selfies sending is a pretty regular thing

Miles G was more hesitant to start using his app again than Gwen since his was actually the same but he prowlered through and now it's a healthy and stable part of his life

Gayatri looks for wholesome videos to show all of them

"MARGO,GIVE ME YOUR PHONE"-Hobie at least twice a day

Gwen and Margo are an e-couple in the sense that they act exactly like girlfriends in it but are in denial irl

Hobie randomly infodumps in it once he gets the hang of it and takes up Miles' kamoji usage but only the smug/bitchy ones

Their usernames are mostly just their names but with a special twist to give them personality-Miles is her name with a sunflower next to it,Pavitr has a sparkles emoji and Miles G has his in that edgy font.But Margo is 'Margo Thee Byte',Gayatri is 'The Ungwen' as a reference to 'The Undead' and for irony,Hobie is 'What are you?A cop?',Peni is 'Pastel Genesis Evangelion' and Gwen is just an assortment of pink emojis

Rio:Mija?Are you texting a boy? Miles,texting Hobie:Technically yes but also literally no

Margo gets them to be on her streams and Miles ends up making her own channel and her fans nearly broke her comments section when Hobie made his first apperance(Tragic day for weird ass Miles fanboys)

Gwen and Peni start rubbing off on eachother,like Peni starting to love her kind of music and Gwen starting to get blunter

Pavitr is the most slang knowledgable and this is thanks to Gayatri-He surpassed the best there is

Miles and Hobie did the 'At Dairy Queen with my Dairy King' meme once but the picture wasn't them at Dairy Queen,it was them chilling with mutated cows they'd saved and they didn't even get the food at Dairy Queen,Hobie cooked them copies because fuck capitalism

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lotusthekat · 1 year

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[ID: A digital drawing of older Hunter and Luz as someone catches them together. Hunter wears mostly black clothes, if not for a purple cloak that covers only his right arm. His hair is stylized like Darius, even tying it up in a messy bun/ponytail. Hunter is also growing a small goatee and he's wearing one of Luz's earrings in his right ear. Luz wears red-toned clothes, which calls back to Eda's Grom outfit. Hunter's left hand is on Luz's waist while her left hand is hugging him, hidden inside his cloak. With the caption, it's revealed that Camila is the one who's apparently taking a picture of the couple, which makes both Hunter and Luz blush bashfully. Hunter's eyes are comically wide as he stares at the camera/viewer, and Luz is laughing with her eyes shut. The caption reads:

[Luz]: Mom!!

[Camila, off-screen]: Just pretend I'm not here, mija!

In the background there are many yellow light balls, likely light spells. /End ID]

This was SUPPOSED to be a Grom picture, but Hunter and Luz ended up looking a lot older than I wanted... but this could be another party like, idk, maybe a Hexside reunion thing.

Honestly though, I mostly drew this because I just really wanted to play with the idea of Hunter looking more like Darius instead of being basically another Caleb. Kinda surprised I haven't seen that in the fandom, from my own experience...

Either way, Camila would definitely take many pictures of these two.

(I apologize for how the captions look lmao;;)

DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION!

Hate will be blocked.

P/roship DNI.

#the owl house #toh hunter #hunter deamonne #luz noceda #lunter #my art #fan art #digital art #artists on tumblr

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braxiatel · 11 months

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If I were an artist I would call this a doodle, but as I am a writer I will have to call it an unfinished, unedited abandoned wip.

Mumbo and Scar meet in a bar and commiserate about the struggles of being a young adult. Eventually they kiss. Also Scar is trans and Mumbo is autistic because I wrote this fic for me and me alone <3

(Content warning for references to alcohol, sex, and mentions of a character getting disowned)

————

Scar woke slowly to the sound of birdsong.

The pale spring sun was on his face, as warm as the body next to his in a way that made him feel a pang of homesickness.

He stretched, listening to how his joints popped and creaked, before opening his eyes to look around the unfamiliar room.

He had known it was not his city apartment - excuse him, flat - since he registered the birds. The closest he got was the coo of the pigeons that nested above the grand train station. Nothing like the chitter-chatter of songbirds he could hear here. Must be in the suburbs, then.

The room gave little away. Somewhat austere with its dark walls, the closest thing to decorations being a bonsai tree that was somewhat overdue a trim, and of course the rows upon rows of bookshelves with their arranged books standing to attention. Scar blinked, unable to make out the titles between the sleep in his eyes and the darkness of the room.

Instead he turned to look at the person next to him.

The combination of messy black hair and pale skin brought back vague recollections of the prior evening. Flashes of the interior of a very familiar bar, a hand in his, and a row of empty shot glasses in front of him. Well, that explained the pounding headache, at least.

Scar dared to lift the covers a little, getting a better look at his bedmate.

A handsome round face, smeared by last evening’s eyeliner. The moustache had been neatly combed with wax last night, but now it was somewhat comically askew on the man’s face.

“It’s a mouthful. My friends just call me Mumbo.”

“Mumbo?”

“As in Jumbo.”

“Well, what a lovely name you have then, Mumbo Jumbo.”

Scar blinked. Right, he had met Mumbo at the back of the bar.

It was an older place, with good food and decently priced drinks, that meant it had survived since the early ’00s when karaoke rooms had been a must for any self-respecting club.

These days it was mostly used by couples looking for privacy, or by people looking for somewhere to do the sort of substances the owner would kick you out for even bringing into her establishment, the door half obscured by the very curtains that had once framed it as a main selling point.

In short: it was a sound-insulated place in an otherwise noisy environment, with comfortable sofas, that few people other than the poor bugger making the cameras knew about.

It made it the perfect place to catch his breath after a long evening at work. The next guy to man the security cameras had been two hours late - exam season emergency, apparently - and Scar didn’t feel like sitting in the break room where - once again - Angela had just opened a window to smoke rather than going outside, making the whole place an asthma attack waiting to happen.

So Scar had tucked his bag into the basket of his walker and gone into the karaoke room expecting a quiet moment when instead-

“Well, hello there.”

Years later Scar would claim his immediate thought was something in the direction of either “handsome” or “beautiful” depending on what mood he was in, but honestly in that moment he had mostly felt shock followed immediately by concern.

The man in front of him looked as though he had just witnessed something gruesome. Eyes wide, with a faraway gaze and shaking hands.

“Oh, sorry, is this off limits?”

In the present Scar was looking at the man’s sleeping form, marvelling at what a night’s rest had done for him.

Light stubble decorated his soft jawline and Scar’s fingers itched to feel it. Mumbo’s lips were slightly parted in a snore, and he felt their phantom presence on his own. His arm was heavy around Scar’s waist, though it did not feel possessive so much as protective.

Similar to how he had been holding himself when Scar had found him. Huddled in the corner of a couch, as if trying to make himself far smaller than he was.

“No, no. I just came here to sit down,” Scar said. “but I can leave you to it.”

The bus home didn’t arrive for another 20 minutes - if it were on time for once - and his joints would surely protest if he tried to wait it out in the cold winter air.

“There’s room,” the man said, pulling his long legs up to his chest.

Scar paused for a moment. The stranger did not seem dangerous. Upset, perhaps, but there was a million and one reasons one might be upset. He sniffed the air and detected no more alcohol than was usual for the bar.

Well, it was a big couch, there was certainly room for two.

The cracked, white leather sank beneath his weight, creaking as it shifted. The stranger winced but otherwise stayed where he was.

Not a week went by without one of the other employees telling Scar he should try working the bar sometimes. He obviously couldn’t, not with how long it required him to stay on his feet. It didn’t stop him from spending his breaks there though, talking up a storm with the customers and doubling their sales while he was at it.

He was what one might call a people-person, though he very much doubted he would have missed how tense the man in the room with him was even if he hadn’t been.

“My name is Scar, and who might you be?” he asked.

Perhaps he had been wrong in his assessment of how drunk the man was, or perhaps Scar himself was more tired than he had though. Either way, the sentence the stranger spoke was an unidentifiable whirl to Scar.

“What was that?”

The stranger sighed.

“It’s a mouthful. My friends just call me Mumbo,” the man - Mumbo - explained.

“Mumbo?”

“As in Jumbo.”

“Well, what a lovely name you have then, Mumbo Jumbo.” Scar could not keep the smile from creeping into his voice. “Now, Mumbo, I am no expert, but it seems to me that something is bothering you?”

Mumbo shifted, turning his face halfway from Scar’s and resting his face on his knee, resulting in a lock of his hair obscuring the other half. Well, so much for keeping an eye on the stranger with whom he was alone.

“Long night,” Mumbo told him. “I just needed a break. I don’t do well with loud noises or crowds.”

Scar made sure to keep his voice down when he spoke next.

“Interesting place to go on a Friday night, then.”

Mumbo shrugged. “Well, there’s not a whole lot of gay parks or gay cafes about. The man i was meeting up with wanted to meet here.”

Scar offered a look of sympathy.

“Date gone wrong?”

It was at this point he learned that Mumbo was the blushing type, when his cheeks darkened.

“Something like that…”

Scar inched a little closer, feeling the insatiable itch of curiosity.

“You know, people tell me I’m a good listener,” he fished. “I can go first if you’d like. My love life is abysmal. I haven’t had a date in months, and my last steady relationship was with a straight guy.”

Mumbo looked up fully, pausing for a moment, before he said:

“Tonight was a frankly terrible - and misguided - attempt at getting over my flatmate.”

��This sounds like the sort of conversation we could both use a drink for,” Scar said, having long since learned that this was the way of the British. “What’s your poison?”

Mumbo hesitated.

“My treat,” Scar hastened to add. “I get a staff discount.”

“... [Mumbo requests a drink].”

“Coming right up, good sir,” he said.

Another perk to working here was being able to skip the busy friday night line - sorry, queue - at the bar. He was back in the quiet room in no time, balancing the two drinks on a tray.

“Please don’t spill any. You really aren’t allowed to drink in this room, so if we ruin the sofa or the carpet it will get docked from my paycheck.”

Mumbo accepted his drink, clasping it tightly between his two hands.

“Cheers,” he sighed, taking a sip. “How did you end up dating a straight guy?”

Mumbo, it seemed, was the forward type.

“I’m trans,” he said. “We were still together when I realised. He was good about it, you know, just didn’t want to date a guy. We parted as friends.”

“Right,” Mumbo said. “Congrats? On the gender?”

Scar couldn’t help but laugh. “Why thank you, Mr Jumbo, that’s very kind of you to say.”

“My flatmate is straight too… or he was, anyway, until recently. Turns out being in love with him was a lot easier when I thought he wasn’t into men. Back then it was the idea of dating a man he wasn’t into, and not…”

“You?” Scar guessed.

“Yeah, that,” Mumbo sighed, having another sip of his drink.

“Well, he’s a fool to overlook such a handsome man.”

Mumbo snorted.

“You are!” Scar told him. “Look at you. That luscious hair, the stylish suit, those beautiful grey eyes, and those curves? I’d say you’re quite the catch, Mumbo Jumbo.”

Somewhere between the compliments and the way Mumbo bit his lip and blushed Scar had a realisation. Yes, Mumbo was quite handsome, wasn’t he?

“Well, you must be just about the only one in this bar who feels that way. My date walked out after half an hour, and I’ve failed to talk to even a single other man tonight.”

“You’re talking to me,” Scar pointed out.

“I don’t think it counts when one of the staff decides to give you a pity drink,” Mumbo sighed.

“Do you think that’s what’s happening here?” Scar snorted. “I’m off the clock, you know. I’m just making friends. I’m a friendly guy. Look, why don’t I tell you a little more about myself, and you can do the same if you’d like? Great!”

He had continued to tell Mumbo about his life story, how he ended up in the UK, going to university, coming out, getting sick, dropping out, and finally after several years in and out of the hospital, ending up enrolling again while working evenings here in the bar.

Ending up in Mumbo’s bed…

Scar stretched, the delicate silk sheets slipping over his naked skin in a gentle caress. It brought to mind the way soft hands had wandered over his flesh in the dark of the small hours of the night. It had been a while, long enough he was probably going to be sore for at least half of the day. It was a pleasant sort of soreness, though.

He looked up at the face mere inches from his, feeling no shame in taking in the details of Mumbo’s appearance while he slept.

In the low lights of the bar he had not been able to tell, but from the shape of his face he suspected Mumbo would have dimples when he smiled. There was no sign of wrinkles on his skin yet, but by the sharpness of his cheekbones, he had to be in his twenties at least.

The moustache was a nice touch too, even if it had tickled terribly against Scar’s collarbones and abdomen each time Mumbo had kissed him last night.

On the subject of collarbones, Scar could only note his admiration of the rather prominent mark he had left just about Mumbo’s left one. He shivered at the thought of how the other man had whined. Perhaps he would be up for another round this morning..?

Another round… right. He had stayed past the last bus for another round. Mumbo, once he had started talking, had seemed almost compelled to share his life story as well.

“Theodore Bertram Ambrose Osborn Chace the third,” Mumbo pronounced, a seemingly impossible feat giving he was at the end of his second pint. “Former heir to the right honourable Lord Theodore Chace the second.”

Scar whistled and leaned back in the booth he had found them towards the back of the bar, though it might have gotten lost in the noise. The music was as loud as anywhere else, but they had the table to themselves and the ability to wave one of Scar’s colleagues over when they would momentarily need another refill. Mumbo seemed content enough, anyway.

“That’s quite the name. Can’t imagine any loving parent wishing learning how to spell all that on any child of theirs.”

Mumbo picked up his drink, downing the rest of the dark red liquid.

“They weren’t,” he confirmed. “Hence, Mumbo Jumbo. Easier to pronounce.”

And a name that came with less baggage, he read between the lines.

“I have this friend from Sweden - shared a flat with her when I did my bachelor’s degree. He accused me of having a Mumbo Jumbo name, and when my father disinherited me for dropping out of business school and going into engineering… well, it just fit me better. Silly, I know, but what can you do.”

“Mumbo,” he started. “My name is Scar.”

Another thing Scar was learning about Mumbo was the fact that he was a giggler, or at least the drink brought it out in him. His whole face lit up with it, even when he tried to hide it.

“So, your Swedish friend, is he the one you’re pining after?”

Mumbo shook his head. “Iskall moved back years ago. No, he’s from here. We were paired up for a pub quiz during fresher’s week and we hit it off. I think I fell a little bit in love with him the first time he spoke to me. He just… has this energy. He can be such a pest sometimes, but his happiness is always infectious. Even when he’s laughing at your face because he pranked you by glueing the cereal box to the kitchen counter again, you can’t help but join in. You ever met anyone like that?”

“Sounds a bit like my ex,” Scar said. It must be the alcohol warming his insides, he decided. Surely the ‘Yes, I think I would give up most of my earthly possessions to stretch this evening forever if it means hearing you laughter again’ was down to the alcohol.

Mumbo huffed, picking up the drinks card.

“I’m never going to get over him this way.”

Scar rested his chin in his hand, leaning against the sticky table.

“Nonsense. Look around you, Mumbo, this room is full of wonderful men all looking for a good time.”

“Hard to get to know them when the music is so loud.”

Scar laughed. “Well, I wasn’t suggesting you go looking for ‘the one’ right away. But a night with a handsome man might be a good first step.”

Scar hoped he never got tired of watching Mumbo blush. It was just so… cute.

“What, like a one-night stand?” he asked.

“Exactly.”

“I’ve never… I’ve never done that any sooner than the third date,” Mumbo confessed.

“Never too late to try something new,” Scar suggested. “If you want to, that is.”

Mumbo made a noncommittal sound, wringing his hands.

“Just a suggestion. I’m sure there are many other things you could do to create some distance. A holiday, maybe? I hear Paris is nice this time of year. Or maybe a new hobby? Something to get you out of the house”

Mumbo bit his lip.

“Maybe… There’s one thing I’m wondering, though. Why are you doing this, Scar?”

Why was he doing this?

Mumbo was good company, and Scar liked people. In the backroom, the closest he got to social interaction was Samuel showing up to replace him for the late shift, and while the people on his course were nice enough, most of them were a decade younger than him and straight out of sixth form. And Cub, of course, but when Cub would be home in their little two-bedroom flat above the Chinese restaurant was anyone’s guess.

And shoot him, Scar liked to see people happy, and he liked to believe there was people out there for everyone, helping Mumbo find his (or at least the courage to find them) wasn’t such a bad use of his time.

“This is the first new thing that has happened to me in weeks,” he admitted. “I don’t get out a lot - just work and school. I’ve already missed my bus, and the taxi market will be a nightmare at this hour, so I’m stuck here for at least another hour until the Friday evening rush passes. And you’re interesting, I suppose.”

“That was… very honest,” Mumbo said after a pause.

“I tend to be. That a problem?

“No, not at all. Makes it a lot easier when I don’t have to second guess. Dating, making friends - I’m a bit of a spoon with these things.”

Scar laughed. The alcohol was getting to him, he could tell, because the idea of being Mumbo’s friend made something in his chest feel all warm and fussy.

“Do you want to know one thing I don’t think I will ever get tired of? You British people and your funny little sayings. ‘A bit of a spoon’, that’s adorable.” He grinned, doing an excellent job of imitating Mumbo’s accent in his own humble opinion. “Well then, Mumbo, as someone who has been very much enjoying making friends with you - how would you like a sample of my famous, internationally renowned Scar Bontemps wingman service?”

“If you promise me not to try to do an English accent again, I think I’d agree to just about anything.”

Scar gasped. “I am great at accents, Mumbo! I bet you the next round I can convince someone I am British.”

“Well, if you’re handing out free drinks, I won’t say no.”

Scar stood up, taking the first few steps towards the door before he realised what Mumbo had just implied.

“Now, hold on just a moment, mister,” he protested. “That’s it! I’m going to prove you wrong, right away.”

Scar’s head ached, a reminder of just how that bet had turned out for him. The first round of shots had been his treat, the second bought by Mumbo. Dutch courage, he had called it.

Mumbo would surely have an advil somewhere… or whatever they were called this side of the pond. However, trapped between a wall and a man sleeping like a rock, Scar stood little chance of finding them.

It was very gentlemanly of Mumbo to begin stirring just when his need for pain relief was getting urgent, Scar thought.

He moaned, perhaps a sign he too was suffering for last night’s escapades, and tightened his hold on Scar’s waist.

Scar relaxed, letting himself be pulled against Mumbo’s chest, only squirming a little when his hip started protesting at the odd angle.

“Good morning,” he said.

Mumbo sighed, hiding his face in the crook of Scar’s neck. “Hey.”

The way he was petting Scar’s back was sweet, the gravelly tone his voice had taken on from sleep sending a shiver down his spine.

“Something wrong?” Mumbo asked, prodding himself up on one of his elbows.

Scar’s back lamented the new angle he was lying at and he adjusted himself, then adjusted Mumbo with hesitant hands, until he was comfortable again.

“I think an elephant walked through and stepped on my head while I slept - or perhaps a marching band took up residence on the inside of my skull.” At Mumbo’s puzzled, half-asleep expression, he added: “My head hurts.”

Mumbo hummed, the scruff on his cheeks tickling the sensitive skin of Scar’s neck when he leaned in to kiss his shoulder in sympathy.

“Wait here,” Mumbo told him, wriggling out from under Scar and standing up.

Despite his pounding head Scar could not help but lament the dim light of the bedroom. The end of the night was clear to him, but only in flashes. Ones that, sadly, did not include as much detail of what Mumbo looked like naked as Scar would have liked.

However, being a man of the arts, Scar had to admit there was something truly aesthetic about the way the sunlight that slipped in through the curtains lit up Mumbo’s side. One stripe of light painted on his pale skin, filtering through the speckles of body hair and nestling into the curve where his leg joined his torso. As Mumbo retreated into the en suite bathroom, it paned over his backside, upwards, playing with his silky black hair.

How would it feel on a sunny day, warmed by the sun, Scar wondered? He wiggled his fingers against the sheets in a vain effort to satiate the itch to find out.

Mumbo returned a moment later with two pills and a glass of water.

Scar eyed them sceptically.

“You keep your glassware in your bathroom?” he asked, feeling entitled to judge the man at least a little after sleeping with him.

“Only one glass,” Mumbo excused, not close enough that Scar could make out his blush in the dark. “Sometimes when I’m working on a project, I get a little… focused. seeing it next to the basin reminds me to eat and drink. It’s clean.”

“You’re a funny one, Mumbo Jumbo,” Scar told him, accepting the water and the painkillers, downing both.

“In the best ways only, I hope,” Mumbo said, flopping back on the bed with a soft grunt.

Scar leaned over him to put the glass on the nightstand, using his position to lay down half on top of Mumbo.

“Just need a moment to wake up properly.”

The last part of the sentence trailed off into a yawn. He stretched his arms above his head, bending his wrist just in time to avoid hitting the wooden windowsill.

As he settled back down, arms wrapping around Scar, it struck Scar how comfortable Mumbo was in his own space. It suited him.

The Scar Bontemps Wingman service was renowned in his circle of friends. Ren liked to say that in another lifetime Scar may have been a travelling salesman, a conman, or possibly both.

Scar wasn’t sure about that, but he did know he was good at this.

Matchmaking was easy. It was all about understanding two fundamental things: 1) everyone wanted something 2) everyone had something to give.

On dark days and long evenings watching the security feed, he often found himself circling the thought that the only reason he found it so easy to talk about others and so hard to talk about himself was that he doubted whether there was truly anyone out there who would be interested in what he had to offer.

With Mumbo it was easy. The man was obviously attractive, passionate, and charming. He had all but convinced himself setting Mumbo up with someone would be as simple as to introduce him to whatever man he had his eyes set on. Mumbo was attractive, passionate, and polite. His laughter was infectious, one evening in his company enough to put Scar in a good mood.

“So,” Scar asked, hand on the bar counter to steady himself after the second shot. “Anyone catching your eye?”

For the first time since leaving the room, Mumbo surveyed the busy room. From the small dance floor - currently dominated by five women who had arrived together and seemed to have some intricate constellation of relationships between them, judging by how a different pairing in the group were kissing every time Scar looked over. To the door, opening and closing and letting what little fresh air was able to slip in into the bar as guests went out into the cold winter air for a smoke. Finally, at the end of the bar where a group of men a year or two their junior were surveying the crowd with feigned disinterest. Bingo.

“How about those three?” he asked, nodding towards the three, well, twinks was the word that came to mind.

“Erh,” Mumbo said eloquently. “Sure?”

“Which of the three do you like?”

Mumbo looked at Scar for another long moment before surveying the group.

“The one to the right,” he revealed. “He looks stronger.”

Muscular men were Mumbo’s type, then. Scar made a mental note of it in case this first attempt didn’t work out.

“Ready?” Scar asked, draping an arm over Mumbo’s shoulder.

“As I’ll ever be,” Mumbo replied, shoulders tense enough that Scar’s own trapezius twinged in sympathy.

Mumbo, Scar quickly learned, was not an easy commodity to sell.

He obviously had plenty of qualities, which Scar dropped artfully into conversation. Why, my good friend Mumbo is an engineer, did you know? Very smart. He volunteers at a repair workshop, on top of working at a garage. Mechanics are so strong, don’t you agree? Who doesn’t love a man covered in oil and sweat? And look at him. How many men do you know that are willing to make the effort of wearing a suit every day?

That part was easy.

The hard part was when the commodity you were trying to sell seemed adamant to fight back against you.

Mumbo, while technically an engineer, needed to become a fully-fledged civil engineer before he could use his degree for anything, so really he was just like any other master’s student. The repair workshop was only to buff his resume, and the mechanic mostly had him doing consulting work - flying machines and cars weren’t so different after all.

The suit though, oh he could talk about the suit! Scar thought he had finally succeeded - on the fourth try - until Mumbo started talking about the seventh tie knot, illustrating how to tie it and detailing when to wear it. Scar made a mental note to go to his new friend next time he had a formal event, and to not bring up his manner of dress with the next man they approached unless he seemed particularly interested in the history of cufflinks.

“I don’t blame you, you know,” Mumbo hiccupped over another shot of whisky, provided by Scar. “I’m just not good at this.”

“Nonsense,” Scar told him, downing his own drink and rubbing Mumbo’s shoulder comfortingly.

(Despite his protests that he did very little practical work at the garage, Mumbo was rather strong, wasn’t he? How had Scar not noticed sooner…)

“You just need to get out of your head. Maybe we’re just going about this wrong. What if instead of approaching them, we get them to approach you?”

“And how would we do that, mate?” Mumbo asked, his arm slipping under Scar’s and providing much needed support.

“Dance with me?” he suggested. “We’ll get everyone wondering who those handsome men on the dance floor are, and when they come to ask, all you need to do is seal the deal.”

“I’m a terrible dancer,” Mumbo confessed. “Can’t dance a single step.”

“It is past midnight, everyone will have had enough to drink that it won’t matter.”

Mumbo sighed. “If you think it’ll work…”

He took a step back, offering a light bow before offering Scar his hand. Scar bit his lip not to laugh. It made sense, it did. Old money and formalities often went hand in hand. Mumbo had probably been taught how to waltz, or something equally formal.

Scar took the offered hand, placing it at his waist.

“You stand there,” he instructed, positioning himself closer to the centre of the floor, and Mumbo outwards so he could be seen from the bar and the booths. That suit really did wonders for his backside…

Now, Scar was not much of a dancer either. He liked it, but there were the obvious challenges.

“You okay?” Mumbo asked.

“My balance isn’t great without my walker.”

Mumbo’s hold on him tightened, and Scar had to wonder why he was suppressing the urge to shiver in such a hot room.

“We can leave if you’d like?” Mumbo offered.

“I was promised a dance, Mr Jumbo, and I’m holding you to that.”

Scar placed a hand over Mumbo’s chest, feeling the other’s racing heart even through the layers of fabric.

“Just hold on to me?” he requested.

“Of course,” Mumbo agreed.

They started out slow. Scar moved, Mumbo followed, the two of them simply swaying to the music.

Whatever song must be popular, because soon a handful of other bar patrons joined the previously sparsely populated dance floor. For a moment Scar thought he might have succeeded in getting someone to see Mumbo for the get he was, but instead the additional people just pushed him further into Mumbo’s arms.

Mumbo’s hand crept around his body, settling on Scar’s lower back instead of his hip, holding him in place.

“You okay?” he asked Mumbo.

“I was just about to ask you that.”

Scar smiled at him. They were chest to chest now, and he had to wrap his hands around Mumbo’s neck to even have room for his arms.

“You’re so warm,” Mumbo told him, swaying to the tune of the music again. Being as close as he was, Scar was moved by him.

“Is that bad?” he asked, both feeling and seeing how Mumbo shivered when Scar’s breath ghosted over his neck.

“No,” Mumbo said.

The music picked up speed, and so did their dance. For the first time since they had left the safety of the karaoke room, Mumbo looked relaxed.

His eyes were on Scar, his attention solely on moving to the music.

How had Scar not noticed Mumbo’s eyes sooner? Dark grey framing light, reflecting the flashing lights on the dance floor back to Scar.

The song changed, but Scar was no longer listening.

Mumbo’s hips were against his, the two of them sharing heated breaths as they continued dancing past the fifth song. Aches and pains forgotten, there was only the beat of the music and the beating of their hearts.

For every rejection Mumbo had run his hands through his short hair, leaving it a mess at this point. Perhaps Scar should smooth it out?

He wanted to do so, anyway.

He got as far as the short hair at the nape of Mumbo’s neck. Mumbo bit his lip, sighing, and Scar could not help but watch those pink lips move.

Oh.

Mumbo was tall, and had to bend his head down experimentally. Scar approached, both of them inching closer, and-

His lips were soft, his tongue inquisitive where it met Scar’s own. He tasted of fruity ciders and burning alcohol, the scent of his subtle cologne somewhat mixing into the taste in a way that wasn’t altogether unpleasant.

Whether Mumbo was consciously tightening his hold to support Scar when his knees began to go shaky, Scar wasn’t sure.

Scar heard himself moan, and Mumbo responded by biting at his lip.

He gasped, breaking away for breath.

“Cheeky,” he accused, leaning against Scar. “Do that again?”

Mumbo continued as he had all evening, following most of Scar’s whims. This time, however, he cut the kiss short, trailing down Scar’s jaw and neck instead. Oh, how pleased he was he had worn something low-cut tonight.

One of his hands remained on Mumbo’s shoulder - a necessity, his legs were still as soft as jelly beneath him - while the other trailed down Mumbo’s back, and settling on his ass- arse- whatever.

“Scar,” Mumbo sighed. “You sure about this?”

“Wouldn’t be kissing you otherwise,” he replied. “Let’s get out of here?”

“My flatmate won’t be home,” Mumbo agreed.

“Mine will be.”

“My place it is.”

And from there… well, somewhere between heady kisses, needy touches, and affirmations that neither of them expected the other to be at their best after how many drinks they had had, they ended up at the back of a cab, and then in Mumbo’s little terrace house.

“Upstairs,” Mumbo said somewhere south of Scar’s collarbone and north of his left pec, nimble fingers flying over the buttons of Scar’s shirt. It did make sense, with how much Mumbo knew about suits, that he would know how to most effectively remove a button-up. How very talented he was.

“Not great at those,” Scar told him, his walker left at the front door alongside their shoes.“Sofa?”

“Flatmate will be home by morning.”

Scar sighed, tilting his head back to allow Mumbo better access. He had never been with a man with facial hair before, and was delighted to learn Mumbo’s moustache tickled against his skin.

“I’ll help you?” Mumbo offered.

“Sure,” Scar said. By morning he would be decidedly more sober, so getting back down shouldn’t be such a challenge.

He smiled, the events of last night playing out before his mind’s eye.

Kisses that started out hesitant, while hands explored unknown paths, soon turning heated, clothes coming off in the process.

Where last night Mumbo’s body had been marked by teeth, it was now decorated in pretty little bruises. Scar knew he was much the same.

The alcohol had still been clouding their heads, burning past inhibitions, but remdering them slow. To compensate they had moved at a leisurely pace. Warm, soft, and caring, ending with both of them on their sides, inquisitively familiarising themselves with where to touch to make each other sigh in satisfaction.

Mumbo, he learned, had never been with anyone trans before. He was a quick study, though, diligently prepping Scar, carefully listening to Scar’s instructions when he told Mumbo how to hold up his legs so it wouldn’t hurt his joints now or tomorrow.

It hadn’t exactly been the best sex in the world, both of them were drunk after all, but Scar was certain he had never felt so comfortable after a one night stand before.

He was still catching his breath, lying comfortably on this side, when Mumbo slipped into the bathroom. Scar could hear the water running, and after a few minutes, he returned, looking less flushed and much cleaner.

“Sorry,” he had said, lying back down with all the grace of a falling tree, offering his open arms to Scar. “Just needed to clean up.”

Scar could recall waving it off, already cuddled against Mumbo and drifting off to sleep.

In the light of the morning, he kissed Mumbo’s shoulder and was rewarded by him snuggling closer.

“I’m awake,” he mumbled, adding a snore that told another story entirely.

It was sweet, and Scar did nothing to resist the urge to kiss him again, planting one on Mumbo’s jaw.

Mumbo shifted to look down at Scar.

“Goodness, you’re handsome.”

He said this with a surprising amount of clarity.

Scar knew this already, but it was nice to hear it anyway.

“You’re not so bad yourself.”

Mumbo’s hand settled on Scar’s waist, his fingers spreading and tracing patterns on the sensitive skin.

“Can I kiss you?”

[Still lying in bed, Mumbo and Scar agree that they both want to get to know each other better. They both find each other interesting and attractive, and even if it doesn’t turn into romance they think they could become good friends.

Mumbo goes to have a shower. Scar thinks of joining, but is hungry. Mumbo tells him where the kitchen is and to help himself to whatever he’d like.

Scar goes into the kitchen and is greeted by Grian, Mumbo’s flatmate - and his ex!

Scar is thrilled to see him. Grian tells him he regrets breaking up without giving it a try, he’s been thinking a lot about Scar, and wishes they at least hadn’t lost contact. Scar doesn’t blame him, and just looks forward to reconnecting.

Grian suggests a time and Scar has to decline because he has just planned a date with Mumbo that day.

Grian reacts weirdly to this, but before Scar can ask, Mumbo joins the in the kitchen. Scar happily tells Mumbo that he and Grian know each other, and how]

#posting from my phone so sorry if the formatting is bad #part of this writing exercise to me is not editing it #so this is what you get I’m afraid #hermitcraft #hermitshipping #redscape #mumscarian #writing

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fitzs-space · 11 months

Note

I absolutely love ur mer designs for Etho, Grian and our lovely sea monster ofc lol. Do you have any more in depth refs for their designs, id love to see more of how they look if possible! /nf ofc

only really had the couple rough sketches for their designs unfortunately! given its how I work with most of my stuff with just quick sketches like this. But I'll give the couple details I remember adding into their designs! Main notes will be I spent more time on Etho because I knew they'd be seen the most,, also that this this Is a default of how I've always drawn mermaids, with the whole dark eyes and covered in scales and fins, more siren esk in a sense.

with Etho the main things I remember adding is chancing the headband and gloves to be more like kelp being wrapped around/ braided, because In general I like drawing mermaid outfits with a more found object type vibe to them. the other main thing was intentionally giving them 9 fins in their design, 6 on the tail, 2 on their fourarms, and the one on the back. Cause I enjoy drawing Etho with the kitsune vibe. even though I;ve only ever drawn them with the full ears n tail like,, once or twice? who knows.

Also! points points, finally had an excuse to draw their tattoos!

only notes I really had for Grian was wanting him to have the rounded Fins cause feather vibes. and I never really looked up actual fish or animals when I draw quick designs, so I go off pure vibes and vague memory of what I think the animal looks like,,, and we end up with stuff like this.

and drew them with the void damage again! thought it would look pretty to have a tail and scales that looked like a void/spacelike. and It wouldn't have been a good colour pallet to have him in just pure red with the poncho and tail bein the same colour. I did also try the white hair too, even just being streaks like my s5 Ex design, but It wasn't really working out.

I looked at my old design of Xb and went, "what can I do to make this being even prettier." and here we are /hj the full sea monster style Is something only like five of the hermits would have seen, so its not a common thing. I'd like to think Xb also like triples in size when like this, but its hart to show that when its just a single character shot like this. the default Xb design I will use is the "just some guy" kinda thing with only a couple fishy details if you look close enough. the whole a couple scales around the eyes like freckles and a vague impression of gills that are mostly covered up buy the hoodie anyways. the third eye is something Xb always keeps closed, and is normally hidden behind bangs

yada yada, I draw my Xb design as a character who just does everything to act as "Just some guy" and not as a full on monster of the deep sea kind thing only other design notes would be me adding the runes into Xb's horns, cause I've got some random magics lore Ideas, and I've been meaning to also add some to Tango's design as well and I originally had drawn Xb's earrings as a way to match with Hypnos, forgot that I drew this one with just a teardrop,, but I know my Hypno design does have both a eye and a bell on his earrings. Silly reference to a cool fic that was a good chunk of inspiration to how I characterize my Xb

Idk, not as many thoughts behind these designs as I had in the ties comic, but still a couple none the less!

#answering the thoughts #hermitcraft #headcanon dump #ish #grian #ethoslab #xbcrafted #fitzs art #I try to use no pronouns for my Xb. so the writing may read odd if you don't know that!#silly mermaid designs

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pareidoliaonthemove · 3 months

Text

Code Wayne

“Head’s up, Quinn. Possible Code Wayne incoming.”

Quinn muttered a curse, and redoubled her scanning of the crowds pressing up to her charge. It didn’t take long for her to spot what Benji had seen, a woman about her age, with a photogenic little boy in her arms. Her starstruck gaze was locked firmly on Quinn’s charge – the first man on the moon, and the world’s darling: Colonel Jeff Tracy.

The media covering the mission had made much of his wife, Lucy, and even more of their three photogenic sons: toddling and precocious Scott and John, and baby Virgil, who had been famously banished to a sound-proof booth, because the tiny infant had somehow managed to snore loud enough to interfere with Mission Control’s active microphones in the lead-up to the descent to the lunar surface.

Fans of the astronaut had been quick to lock onto that fact, and parents, hell even grandparents and aunts and uncles, were flocking to him with progeny in tow, hoping their child would attract the man’s attention, and maximise their time with the hero of hour, and secure an autograph, a photograph with their idol. And standing next to him while he held your child while he was filmed for a news broadcast, or photographed by the paparazzi for a newspaper or magazine? That was winning the lottery for these people.

One thing that none of them ever counted on was the intensity of the situation, there were people and shouting and the various dignitaries who were hosting whatever event this was were all trying to maximise their time with the astronauts, and stick to a predetermined schedule; none of the astronauts were able to focus on any one thing for long, despite their best efforts.

The other thing they hadn’t factored into the decision to shove their kid at a random stranger was how comfortable the man was around kids. Quinn had quickly discovered that Jeff was one of those people who genuinely liked kids. He gave his sons as much time as he could, and was often spotted with one of the older boys on his hip, and either Virgil cradled in his other arm, or the other toddler hanging off his arm, and trotting alongside him. So it was as natural as breathing for the man to be holding a child, and he had an alarming tendency to let himself be drawn on, still holding onto a random child that had been thrust at him.

There had been a couple of scenes – that the media had, uncharacteristically, refrained from reporting to the world – with theatrically hysterical parents, still hoping for their fifteen seconds of fame. But mostly it was a bewildered looking parent standing in the astronaut’s wake, watching as their child disappeared off into the crowd with their hero.

It was a situation that Quinn had never expected to have to deal with when she had been made the handler and personal assistant to the Colonel, and her colleagues all thought it was as funny as hell. Benji, the hopeless geek, had been the one who dubbed the situation ‘Code Wayne’, after his favourite comic book character, Batman’s, apparent tendency to adopt any unattended child he comes across.

Luckily, Jeff was just embarrassed by the whole thing, and each time sheepishly handed the child back to their rightful guardian, usually with a comment along the lines of: “Whoops, that one’s not mine.”

His wife just laughed, and commented that it would have been a way for Jeff to fulfil his ‘personal football team’ ambitions with less discomfort on her part.

None of the other astronaut’s handlers had to deal with this, Quinn often grumbled to herself. Why did she get stuck with the one with the child fetish?

Quinn sighed as the woman finally fought her way to front of the crowd, and faked a stumble, to cover shoving her kid at Jeff. It was one of the higher-risk manoeuvres Quinn had seen. There was no danger to the boy – Jeff had automatically caught him before he had dropped a millimetre, but the mother was only saved from a humiliating faceplant in the dirt by a reporter.

She heard Benji and Dominic groan beside her as the woman was immediately the centre of attention, as all three of the astronauts, as well as the local VIPs set about assuring themselves that she was alright. If this made the news, there would be women literally throwing themselves at the all the time.

Quinn risked a glance towards the ranks film journalists, the uniform scowls of the cameramen reassured her: clearly there was no clean shot of the incident, to her delight and the networks’ dismay.

By the time Quinn returned her attention to her charge, the city’s mayor had regained the attention of his distinguished guests, and was ushering them along towards a large stage set up nearby, and … yep, there was Jeff with the kid, obediently trotting after him, the two other astronauts smirking in his wake, and the mother staring open-mouthed, one arm reaching out after her child.

Quinn deployed her elbows to get through the crowd, snagging the mother and dragging with her. She managed to reach out and tap Jeff on the elbow, he glanced over his shoulder and started at the sight of his ‘handler’ glaring at him with a stunned young woman at her shoulder. Quinn pointed at the child, and crossed her arms.

Jeff looked down, apparently surprised at the presence of the child, before the tips of his ears turned red – his version of blushing, she had learned – and sheepishly offered the boy out to his rightful parent.

“Sorry,” he said, “guess I’m missing my boys.”

Quinn rolled her eyes in despair.

Forty years later, Quinn groaned and rolled her eyes. Some silly young girl was staring in shock as the world-famous billionaire casually strolled away with the little girl she had pushed into his arms not five minutes ago.

Mustering up a reassuring smile for the girl – dear God, was she even out of high school? Or was Quinn just getting old? – she stepped up behind Jeff, and touched his elbow.

“Hey, Batman,” she said softly enough that only he could hear, “that one’s not up for adoption.”

Jeff started, and stared at the little girl looking back up at him in bewilderment. Then he flushed, and turned back to the mother who reached out for her daughter.

Jeff smiled sheepishly. “Whoops,” he said, the tips of his ears turning red. “That one’s not mine.”

Quinn didn’t have to be able to see them to know that his sons had simultaneously rolled their eyes, and groaned in despair.

Notes:

I’m afraid one of the possibilities of my recent theorising about the reason the Tracys relocated to Tracy Island bit hard and wouldn’t let go. (And I needed a bit of a change of speed from trying to write for Febuwhump.)

Quinn’s code name for the situation is definitely @Yarol2075’s fault!

The standard disclaimers, I do not own Thunderbirds, either the Original Series, the Movies (both Supermarionation and Live Action), or the Thunderbirds Are Go Series. (Although I do own copies on DVD.)

I do not do this for money, but for my own (in)sanity and entertainment.

#thunderbirds 1965 #jeff tracy #celebrity #people giving kids to famous strangers #fanfic #my fanfic

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sineala · 10 months

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It was quite the week for us comic Tony fans!

How would you rank the Tony issues from the haul? We had Iron Man #8, Avengers #3, I Am Iron Man #5, Avengers Beyond #5, Ults reboot (tho Tony didn’t seem to show there?), dunno if I missed any haha

Oh, man, it absolutely was a great comics week!

I'm going to list what I liked less first because I have a lot of feelings about Iron Man #8.

Ultimate Invasion #2

Technically Tony was in this, at the bottom of the first page of Howard's introduction, the one that was a straight-up redraw of Tony's introduction in Ultimates #2. Here he is:

I suppose that we don't actually know for a fact that this is Tony; Howard refers to him as his son but he isn't named. Like, for all we know, this is Greg with a dye job, or maybe Arno exists here. But I have to say that I'm pretty meh about the idea of an Ults reboot that doesn't include Steve or Tony (and, even more upsettingly, seems to have Howard instead of Tony); I suspect (at least, I hope) there will be some personnel reshuffling going on, but the amount that I have ever cared about The Maker is minuscule at best. Hickman just has his things he likes to write about and too bad if you wanted to hear about anyone else, I guess. (His original Ults run was not my favorite.)

Back when Time Runs Out was coming out, the solicits announced that the cover for Avengers #41 was going to reuse the cover of Ultimates #1, so everyone was excited that there was going to be an Ults crossover. At the time, I hadn't read any Ults at all, so I decided I was going to read Ults to prepare for this issue. The thing was, I didn't quite finish reading Ults, and I hadn't gotten to Hickman's run. "That won't be a problem!" I thought, naively. "I have in fact read Ultimates #1 and surely these characters are what this issue is about, since they are on the cover."

Then Avengers #41 turned out to be entirely about The Maker and Miles Morales and I was extremely confused. This was not what I thought I was getting. Why is it about these people? Where are the Ultimates? Why is a psycho version of Reed here?

Reading Ultimate Invasion is making me feel like I am having the exact same experience again, eight years later. I don't like it any better a second time.

I Am Iron Man #5

This is the last issue of this miniseries, and I really wanted to like it. For one thing, some of the variant covers have been absolutely gorgeous:

The creative team are clearly big fans of Tony and love him so much as a character and love his history and you can see that basically on every page of this entire miniseries and I'm glad Marvel gave us something that was so positive… but I haven't really been able to make any sense of any of it. They have some really interesting high-concept ideas -- like, #5 here was a look at the ethics of cloning -- but they seem to have a massive, massive disconnect at some point in the process between Having The Idea and Making A Comic About The Idea and I literally do not understand most of what has happened in this entire miniseries. I feel like if I asked them to summarize their comic I would probably understand the explanation, but reading the comic does not lead to understanding it, for me.

I was trying to explain this, and the best comparison I can come up with is all those issues of Doctor Strange that are mostly from the 70s where the creative team was clearly on All The Hallucinogens and you go to read a comic and it's absolutely gorgeous artwork but very little of the story makes any sense whatsoever and it's just like "okay, dude, you keep having fun doing your thing" and then you check back in a couple issues and Strange has defeated, like, the manifestation of his own ego and also possibly the concept of reality?

It's like that, but with Iron Man.

(Incidentally, the recent Doctor Strange miniseries Fall Sunrise was like that, if you feel like Doctor Strange comics have been making too much narrative sense lately.)

Avengers Beyond #5

Last issue of this Landy/Land series. Don't mind me; I really like crediting them. I really loved Derek Landy's work on the Cap-IM miniseries (I mean, who didn't?) and I think in both this miniseries and the preceding All-Out Avengers he demonstrated a really solid grasp of Avengers characterization, which is no mean feat in a series whose gimmick is that every issue starts in medias res. I think he's especially good at dialogue, and he really makes the characters feel like themselves without all that much space to work with, and a lot of the Avengers' solutions (like the Celestial blood thing here) seem like things they would come up with.

The downside, and this is not his fault, is that I really aggressively Do Not Care about the Beyonder. So I liked this despite that, which is a testament to how much I like his writing, I guess.

The other downside is every single page in which Greg Land has to draw a human face. I just. Sometimes he gets about 80% of the way but suddenly NOPE. The good news is that this series plays to his strengths in that there are a lot of characters with helmets and non-human faces and also there is a lot of punching which mostly doesn't show people's faces close-up. The bad news is that many of the action scenes still look like they're traced from porn, although at least not so much in this issue.

So I feel like if you can somehow ignore all of the art, like, all of it ever, you might like this.

Avengers #2

I really like Jed MacKay's writing, which is why this is getting ranked so highly for me even though really not all that much happened this issue. Plus, the art is good, and I felt that I could not in good conscience rank Greg Land's art above this.

Right now I don't think really enough has happened for me to be able to say whether this is a good run -- #1 was basically Assembling, and #2 here is Getting The Villains Together -- but I have a lot of faith in MacKay based on his other comics (I am excited to read his Black Cat run that I just got in book form) that this is probably going to be good. The dialogue seemed IC for everyone; I like how Tony is wearing his stealth armor here due to IM events. The villains remind me a lot of the villains in Death of Doctor Strange, which I liked a lot.

I do, however, empathize with the letter writer who says it doesn't feel like the Avengers without Steve. They could have two Caps. It would be okay.

Invincible Iron Man #8

Ohhh boy.

I have been looking forward to this issue since #7 came out, and I loved it (and the rest of the run so far) so much that I wrote 40,000 words of h/c set right after #7 because canon is whumping Tony so nicely that I thought he could maybe have some comfort. I don't remember the last time I liked a comic enough to write 40,000 words immediately after reading it. Maybe never. I wanted to get the fic posted before #8 came out and I did in fact manage this. Impressively, I don't think canon actually contradicts anything in my fic, provided you assume that there's at least a day before #8 starts. I also appear to have correctly identified several of the problems Tony is having in canon -- #8 establishes that Tony is not sleeping and not eating -- but it's just that Gerry Duggan has no interest in fixing these problems and I do.

I didn't think the whump could get any better than #7. The whump got even better.

Every interview I see with Gerry Duggan about IM, he seems to feel he has to apologize for all the pain he is putting Tony through. I don't know why he keeps apologizing. This is the good stuff.

So I had to do about a hundred pages of background reading to read this, because Hellfire Gala is something like 78 pages long and I had to read a FCBD issue too. It was totally worth it. I am very sorry to X-Men fans who are not Iron Man fans because I am sure they are cursing Gerry Duggan's name right now.

If you are going to read this Iron Man issue and want to have all the background reading, what you should actually read is the Avengers/X-Men FCBD issue from May, and then Hellfire Gala, and then Iron Man. There are several events that we get bits of from the X-side in Hellfire Gala and from Tony in IM, but the events themselves take place in the FCBD issue, which is definitely exactly where I'd put key events I wanted people to be able to find. Thanks, Marvel. And if you are a Steve fan, you are going to care, because one of them is an attempt on Steve's life. So if you don't read the FCBD issue first, halfway through Hellfire Gala you're going to be like "what do you mean, someone's trying to assassinate Captain America?" and, yeah, that's in the FCBD issue as well as a couple other attacks more relevant to the mutants.

I'm sure we were all expecting Krakoa to fall since the day it started -- look, we all know the mutants have a very, very bad record at creating mutant utopias -- but I have to say I wasn't expecting quite this much of a bloodbath and definitely not because Xavier decided to give into his captors' demands without checking if what they were actually asking him to do was happening like he thought it was. This seems to be a good argument for not negotiating with terrorists. I wasn't expecting basically the second Mutant Massacre, even masterminded by (an evil clone of) Mister Sinister. (I haven't read X-books in a long time but I have to admit that "Sinister is just not evil enough" was not a take I was expecting.)

Also I am STILL not over the fact that the evil mutant-hating organization is named Orchis, which means "testicle" in Greek. (I mean, yes, it also means "orchid." But if they wanted me to think of orchids they could have just named it Orchid in English and not Testicle.)

So, anyway, the result of the Hellfire Gala this year is that pretty much everyone who was at the Gala (as well as a bunch of other people) are extremely dead, except for Emma Frost and a small band of resisters (including, inexplicably, Wilson Fisk, and I'm sure we'll learn what his deal is eventually) who managed to teleport out to New York, which is where Tony gets involved.

(I am still not over the fact that Tony got an Avengers call for a DC terror attack, then got a call for Steve being attacked in Brooklyn and immediately zoomed to help Steve first. Priorities, he has them. Yes, I know, Steve was closer. Shhh.)

Anyway! You like Tony suffering? Then you will probably enjoy Tony fighting Sentinels, getting hit really, really hard, bleeding and getting concussed and begging for help and repeating that he's dying, as he wavers in and out of consciousness while lying on the street. If the issue had decided to make this the worst thing that happened to him, I would still have been perfectly satisfied because, look, I just wrote 40,000 words because I really liked how the last comic ended with Tony being upset that Rhodey had been arrested, punching his armor until there's blood dripping down his hands, kneeling on the floor. And now canon has made him suffer more!

But then! Then we get the very best terrible moment! Even better and/or worse than I could have hoped for!

Tony is at this point not entirely conscious, he thinks he's dying, and he's not very, uh, oriented as to reality, and that means that his poor suffering brain is making him think he's reexperiencing one of his past extremely traumatic events, and Emma, who is also now stuck fighting Sentinels, has decided to hop into his mind to help him out. So I was like, okay, maybe it's gonna be his origin story? That's probably pretty damaging. That's something anyone could come up with.

The thing is, Gerry Duggan has done the reading.

So the inside of Tony's mind is currently Iron Man #182. Yes. Tony is dying in the blizzard.

At this point, I had to stop and say AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. A lot. I think everyone else did too.

Like, I enjoy recreationally making fictional characters suffer and I don't think it would ever have occurred to me to do this. I am plotting the rest of an extremely angsty canon-divergent fic series ending in the blizzard, solely so that Steve can carry Tony out of the cold, and it would never have occurred to me that when Tony thinks he's dying his mind would take him right back to the middle of the blizzard and LEAVE HIM THERE, freezing to death, drunk and alone, with nothing. I could never have thought of this. It's perfect.

The comic doesn't actually tell you what it's referencing or that it is in fact referencing anything canonical, but if you are familiar with Iron Man #182's very distinctive cover art, this page is a very, very clear homage to it. (And I suppose there's a sense in which it's kind of a canon deep cut; the issue's a dollar-bin kind of issue and the arc itself has only been reprinted once, in pieces, and I think all of it is out of print now in paper. The people collecting and slabbing Doomquest et al aren't buying this one, as far as I know. We just love it.)

I think an argument can be made that the current one is more pathetic (in the sense of "creating pathos") than the #182 version, because for one thing the cover isn't itself canonical; that angle and alley aren't in the issue. Also, in Tony's dream version, he's surrounded by bottles. And he's barefoot. He's actually made it worse for himself than it was when it really happened to him.

And in case you thought this issue was done stabbing you in the heart, this is what happens when Tony wakes all the way up:

AAAAAAAAAA.

Anyway, then Tony surrenders -- because he has never met a self-sacrificing moment that he does not love; thank you, Gerry Duggan, for understanding this -- so that Emma can get away and he's now kneeling, unarmored, in the middle of the street, concussed and bleeding heavily, daring Feilong and his Sentinels to come on and kill him. Just your regular Iron Man cliffhanger.

I will take twelve more just like this one, please and thank you.

I'm still not over the blizzard.

I know it could all go wrong at any moment -- I have a lot of trust issues about Iron Man comics, clearly -- but we've had eight issues and as of right now I think this is definitely the best Iron Man ongoing run we've had in the past… fifteen years? Whenever Director of SHIELD ended.

(If any of you clicked on this and are not comics fans, you're probably wondering how fans of a character can dislike everything that has happened to them in the past fifteen years and still consider themselves fans of a character. This is just what comics fandom is like.)

#replies #visitant-dispatch

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