#(he'd rather not fuck up history than it already is)

[matrixbearer2024]

not a request but i just wanna get an idea that i absolutely MUST get out of my brain before it consumes my entire being. So, your “get off my screen series”. You know that trend where ppl put that one vox vid of his face on their tv and put like hus hat and/or body attached to the tv. Imagine vox somehow finds a way to do that and y/n just does this.

THATS IT LMAO ABSOLUTELY LOVE AND ADORE YOUR SERIES. ANYTIME I SEE IT’S UPDATED IT MAKES MY DAY<3

TikTok Trending, Posts and Memes

Vox x CollegeStudent!Reader

A/N: With how many ideas you guys have at this point I might just continue to write short scenarios for this AU with all the ideas you guys are giving me- it's absolutely amazing seeing what y'all come up with and I'm just living for it hahahaha! Thank you guys so much!

The week you had was... interesting to say the least.

Vox had challenged you to at least take up basic programming, claiming you were too impatient to learn.

So you, being the persistent and stubborn you-

Decided to prove him wrong.

Besides, it can't be that bad if he knows how to do it.

You wouldn't tell him because it'd probably make him butthurt-

But you were sure Vox was 1000% more impatient than you.

You took up computer science for extra credit, quickly learning the ins and outs of basic coding.

It was just a world of syntax and numbers but you definitely found it fun.

And useful too-

Especially when you wanted to explicitly screw with others.

Vox may or may not have slightly taught you how to hack.

But you weren't using it for anything bad!

Just to change the final grade of some asshole students so they'd have to repeat the class.

That's what they get for just randomly tripping you in the hall the other day.

Vox was slightly proud but also kind of concerned-

You'd definitely end up where he was at this rate.

Thankfully though, you decided not to do anything too crazy since.

Instead you've been messing around on your devices alongside the tech overlord.

From practicing how to send him encrypted messages-

To straight up just shitposting all over his monitors.

It's not so fun now is it Voxxy?

You would sometimes try to transfer him around to other devices that weren't your own to see if he could actually do anything.

Well, he could- but it only worked if he was directly connected to it.

Meaning he had to be plugged in.

How he was able to connect to all your devices wirelessly without limitation?

Neither of you had a clue.

You both first tested it on your best friend's phone, only for Vox to immediately go back to your computer and blow up your notifications.

"Nope nope nope nope, that's the last time I let you plug me into some random fucking phone-"

"What?? What happened??? And it's not random, it's (Friend Name)'s Phone."

"Dollface, you know Valentino right? The one I told you about?"

"The pornstar? What about?"

You didn't exactly like where this conversation was going.

You had an inkling where it would end and you were already cringing.

"Yeeaaaah, I've known him for quite some time so I would think I've seen nearly everything."

"Get to the point Vox-"

"And yet I am somehow utterly disgusted by your friend's search history."

"Yeah, uh... I'd rather you don't tell me."

"I figured. Though it makes me curious about what yours looks like."

That gave you pause, given how Vox had practically invaded your entire computer-

Hell, he even gave your files a new sorting system-

You were surprised he hadn't gone through your search history.

Of all the things you'd think that was what he'd ransack first.

"You haven't checked my search history yet?"

"Why would I? It's not like I'm trying to find your secret porn stash or something."

"Bruh, why would I even have that."

"Your friend had one, I just guessed."

"Touché."

You were a little touched that Vox cared about you enough not to really dig into your secrets.

Or well, the things you wanted to keep secret.

For a big bad overlord, he was kind of a sweetheart.

"Okay now I definitely wanna see what you've got hidden in there-"

"FUCK OFF YOU STUPID OLD PICTUREBOX-"

"YOU CAN'T STOP ME BITCH-"

You know what, you retracted your previous statement.

He's a fucking jerk.

Vox quickly dug through your search history while the tiny desktop companion in his likeness refused to give you control over the cursor.

You couldn't stop him even if you tried.

His phone blew up from notifications with you cursing at him or just calling him names.

He just laughed at your dismay and continued to dig through.

Okay- wow.

While he didn't initially expect it from you, Vox reckoned he probably should've.

Much like how people had celebrity crushes, he figured you would have your own.

It just so happened that it wasn't a celebrity and it was a fictional character instead.

He kind of felt like someone slapped him in the face actually, even if he didn't know why.

"Soooooo- (Favorite Character Name) huh?"

"Shaddup-"

"This? This is your type???"

"IT'S A FICTIONAL CRUSH GET OVER IT-"

While you were practically steaming from the ears in embarrassment, Vox was just laughing and dealing with his mixed feelings.

On one hand, he found your reactions absolutely entertaining and hilarious.

On the other hand, he didn't even know who or what this character was and he already disliked them.

Just a gut feeling.

He continued to tease you for it though, bringing up more cringe parts of your search history much to your chagrin.

It wasn't really anything bad that you couldn't take, it was just so embarrassing that you'd rather he didn't dig any of it up.

So in the heat of the moment, wanting to get Vox off your computer- you plugged it into the only other active device he wasn't connected.

Your TV.

It was nearly instant, he went from teasing and texting to you to a befuddled face on the larger screen.

But what was more surprising, was he could actually see you this time.

It wasn't filtered over with static like when he'd first met you.

The live feed even had audio, which was just entirely unexpected too.

Who knew, plug a TV demon into his specific medium and he could actually operate properly?

But that's how you guys ended up figuring out how to connect his digital presence to your TV.

By entire surprise and from just fucking around.

"Oh my god that worked-"

"(Y/N)? Holy hell! I can actually see you!"

"I did not think that would work-"

"Wow, are you really that short or is your TV just perched up that high?"

You just flipped him the bird and Vox laughed at you again.

Though, you couldn't help but smile because of it.

Well, at least now he could converse with you "properly" like he'd wanted to for a while.

Even if it did mean he'd need to take up your entire TV.

"Oh- OH WAIT- I've got an idea!"

Vox couldn't even question what you were doing before you ran out of the room and out of his sight.

So while waiting, he took a gander at the room you left him in.

It became abundantly clear that this was your living space too.

From the colors to the patterns, Vox smiled fondly as he recalled your old conversations where you would just tell him things about the things you liked.

Yeah, he could definitely see your touch in how the room was designed.

He raised an eyebrow when you giddily came back into the room with some colored paper, scissors and tape.

What-?

"Okay Doll, just what are you planning?"

"You'll see~!"

Your excitement kept him curious.

What were you drawing over there?

Weird timing for an arts and crafts project if you asked him.

It was only until you approached him and taped something to the screen did he actually grow confused.

He couldn't see what you did despite you doubling over in laughter.

What could've possibly been so funny that had you keeling from it?

By the time you could finally look at Vox without laughing your ass off, you used your phone to take a picture of how he looked.

Approaching the TV to show him just so he could see the photo as well.

Ah.

So that's what you found so funny.

You'd fashioned his outfit-

Poorly made but still recognizable-

Out of paper and taped it to the screen.

His hat on top and his suit dangling off the bottom.

Admittedly, it looked downright silly.

Especially with the proportions being so off thanks to the size of the TV screen.

"Haha, very funny (Y/N). Very funny."

"I'm making this shit my wallpaper, you look so goofy."

Vox just playfully rolled his eyes at you with a smile.

If that was seriously all it took to make you laugh?

He'd do it again no questions asked.

Taking a peek at his internal clock though, he held back his disappointment that he had to leave when you were on such an elated high.

"Sorry to cut this short doll, but I need to disconnect. I've got a meeting in a few minutes."

"Hm? Then go and do what you need to do, I can always just plug you back in later. Good luck!"

The overlord chuckled when you raised a hand to pat the screen, he couldn't feel it but he wished he did.

"I don't need luck, but... thanks. See you."

"See you."

And just like that the screen fizzled out and returned to the smart TV homepage.

You'd sent the picture to Vox through your chats and he replied with a TV emoticon.

You giggled, course he would do that.

At least he didn't take offense to what you did-

Despite your poor art skills-

Maybe he found it as entertaining as you did?

Whatever, you switched the wallpaper on your phone to the new photo you had of Vox and laughed.

His confused expression really sealed the deal with how silly the picture was.

But imagine your surprise come morning when you realized he didn't switch the wallpaper back to his trademark grin.

You sort of expected him to, especially given that he'd done so with all your past attempts to change your wallpaper.

The fact he left it alone made you smile.

And as the day began and Vox left you a morning greeting-

You just shot him one back and got up to prepare for the day.

You figured the day would be just fine.

Yeah, you guys would be just fine.

A/N: Ooough this was a long one but I had a lot of fun writing it! I'll post the masterlist afterwards when I grab all the links to the posts and I'll just be continuing the other interludes before I post the chapter with Reader's death. Either way, I hope you guys enjoyed this one!

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox #vox #vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin vox x reader #vox x you #Get Off My Screen Series

[formosusiniquis]

inspired by this post by @ruelogy

ao3

Eddie knows he got to Hawkins a little later than everyone else. He wasn't born and raised in the six miles of town with the same eight people his whole life. There was a whole social services kerfuffle that meant he didn't land in this small town hell hole until he was the ancient age of thirteen. He knows he's destined to forever be the freaky new kid with the shaved head and the group home eyes who joined in the eighth grade. But even without all that he is fucking positive that there was no Henderson in any of his three graduating classes.

Yet here Henderson the supposed younger sits painting him a mystery week after week. Steve said this, Steve did that, Steve may very well be a delusion if the way the others giggle and sigh every time he gets brought up is any indication. Cause it goes like this: Henderson comma Dustin is a fellow Hawkins transplant. Son of a single mother -- divorced or widowed, Eddie knows enough now to be sure that fueled the Hawkins gossip mill for weeks -- who brought her young son with her. Son, singular. Dustin joined the first grade class of Michael Wheeler, Lucas Sinclair, and William Byers and that is as they say history. If there had been sons, plural, this mysterious older brother should have by all of Eddie's figurings joined Hawkins junior high right around the same time as a miserable Eddie. There should have been whispers about two new kids, there should have been someone for him to commiserate with, befriend.

Yet week after week young Dustin sits at Hellfire spinning yarns of a brother who was, what, homeschooled? Sent to a private military academy? Boarding school? Stayed at home with the mysterious father that Dustin doesn't mention -- and Eddie knows enough about fathers that go unmentioned not to break the silence -- but suddenly decided after he graduated to come join his mother and brother in Hawkins? Cause the thing is, Hawkins isn't that big. If pressed he's pretty sure he could name at least 90% of both of the classes he was supposed to graduate with and at least 75% of the group he's stuck with this year. He'd at the very least recognize them on sight, and not just cause he's dealt to the greater portion of the high school. Eddie pays attention, there are only like 400 students at the high school at any time, he should by all accounts be able to say, "Oh yeah that scrawny, bespectacled loser is Steve Henderson."

Except maybe there is no Steve Henderson, he's already faintly sure there's no Suzie so what's one more fictional friend from Dustin Henderson. Maybe this Steve is just the product of a fractured mind brought on by too much hands on parenting. Eddie knows people think all of his bad behavior is the product of underparenting, but if the opposite causes imaginary siblings he'll take the hand he got thank you very much.

Cause, sure he's doing his best to be third time lucky with this whole high school thing. He does know that compared to the should be starry eyed, but actually unsettlingly wary freshmen he is an ancient being of chaos. Yes, he feels every ounce of the five year gap between 19 and 14 when he speaks to them. But beyond all of that, he is still young. Still capable of swooning now and then; and the now is when Dustin describes his big brother and the then was all the other times Henderson the older has been detailed.

"Well that's cause I'm not really sorry, Mike," Henderson is on a tear already when he makes it to Hellfire, "I told you I have plans already."

"It's not that big a deal," Lucas placates, "we can do it another day."

"My parents won't be out of town another day," Mike sneers, "Will, you wouldn't ditch out on an all night Nintendo marathon for a date with Steve would you?" He says it like Will is the voice of the populace or something.

Maybe he is, and going by the way Will flushes a bright pink up to his bowlcut the voice of the people would in fact rather go out with Steve Henderson than hang out in a basement playing video games.

"It's not a date, he's my brother, and yeah dude I'm gonna skip out on watching you scream at Mario to go to an all night Stephen King movie marathon." Dustin says.

And swoon. That sounds like a dream.

"Like Steve would ever do something that cool, you can just say your mom won't let you come over cause my parents aren't gonna be home." Mike is surlier than usual, a trait he has noticed happens a lot when Henderson the elder gets broached. Eddie's theories range from misplaced sibling jealousy to repressed queer crush on Steve.

"C'mon kiddies save the tantrums for your mommies," he doesn't have a taste for it regardless of the answer, puberty is a bitch he's glad to be seeing the back of and Wheeler can go from being an angel to the kind of brat you do want to narc on just a little. "The rest of us have hoards to slay, maidens to save, things that don't involve listening to your play date fall apart."

He desperately wants to ask Henderson where they're movie night is taking place, because it sounds amazing and not at all because he wants to finally see this mysterious brother.

“It wasn’t even mine!” Henderson is moaning by the time Eddie makes it from O’Donnells to the cafeteria. He wasn’t that late, five minutes to plead his case for his grade at most, but Henderson could monologue with the best of them and it took about as much to get the kid going as it did Eddie, which was saying something.

“And you and Erica made fun of what was under my bed.” Lucas says with a smirk and a roll of his eyes.

“What was under your bed?” Will asks.

“We are not going to let Dustin get out of the fact that his Mom found his Star Trek porn that easily,” Mike shrieks, he sounds like he’s trying to mind his volume but it’s still too loud for a public venue, “You gave me shit for weeks about that Penthouse you found under my bed.”

“We gave you shit because you stole it from your dad,” Lucas corrects, not that anyone but Eddie hears it.

Cause as Lucas speaks Dustin is shouting, “It wasn’t fucking mine! It has to be Steve’s but try telling my mom anything about her favorite son.”

Three sets of disbeliving eyes look over at Dustin, but it’s Mike who says, “There’s no fucking way anyone is gonna believe it was Steve’s dude, just give it up.”

“I don’t even like Star Trek that much!”

Eddie has been having dreams of a mystery boy with a gorgeous head of hair and Dustin’s sweet smile. He likes horror but will pretend to get scared so he has a reason to hide his face in Eddie’s neck, and when he gets there he’s a biter. “Now, now Henderson, what kind of self-respecting nerd doesn’t enjoy the dulcet tones of Mr. Spock.”

Henderson wrinkles his little nose, what a twerp or maybe he’s thinking of his brother’s zine again, “It’s okay, but who goes to sci-fi for philosophy when you could watch space battles and deathstars.”

Eddie spares a prayer for Dustin’s English grade. “Well at least one Henderson has taste.”

He’s never had a younger sibling in Hellfire before, Gareth and Joey are only children and Jeff is way older than his miracle baby sister, so it is a treat to watch the way Henderson goes red, white, and then green as he cycles through a series of emotions surrounding his brother so fast it gives Eddie a headache.

“Dude, he probably bought it for you not knowing what it was,” Mike says, “it’s not like Steve is watching Star Trek.”

"You didn't see it."

"Maybe it was a prank?"

Eddie tunes them out, returning to the Steve in his imagination. They're slipping out of the movie they just finished, the one they bought tickets for, Steve giggles -- Eddie thinks he'd have a nice laugh, thinks he makes his brother laugh a lot -- and tugs him into The Voyage Home. "You gonna think of your favorite captain while we hide in the back row, Stevie?"

"Kirk is an Admiral now, he has been for three movies. Some fan you are."

He wonders if it’s creepy, this mental file he’s compiling on Henderson’s brother. It’s not like he knows the guy, truly a backwards fucking miracle in this two stoplight nothing of a town, but Eddies’ always liked something that he can sink his teeth into and pull apart. That’s what Steve Henderson feels like to him, like if a rubix cube was also a steak. He’s lost track of the metaphor in his own head, it’s whatever.

Cause Steve Henderson loves horror movies, but watches sappy romance flicks with his mom when they both have the same day off. Steve Henderson’s favorite color is yellow, but he only wears it on days that he can barely get out of bed; Dustin says that like it’s a warning sign for the others “Steve has his yellow sweater on today,” explaining away his absence at the arcade that afternoon. Steve Henderson could have any girl he wants -- this factoid Eddie takes with a salt, lime, and tequila -- but he never goes on dates anymore and only hangs out with his best friend and coworker. Steve Henderson baked a brownie so good Jeff moaned in the middle of Hellfire but can only over or undercook pasta when he tries.

Dustin loves his brother. Dustin thinks he’s the worst person to ever grace this side of the planet.

That Eddie thinks is at least typical for siblings, barring the Byers who seem to be so close knit they’d put the Bradys to shame.

“Henderson, my man, why the long face? We’re about to begin the most dangerous leg of your quest yet!” Hellfire was getting a delayed start -- the drama club was actually using their prop closet, go figure -- it was just him and Henderson lurking outside so Eddie did have to find his fun where he could get it.

“Steve and Robin went up to Indianapolis and they’re gonna be gone the whole weekend.” And yeah, he probably could have guessed it was about big brother Henderson. Dusty has the cutest case of hero worship when he wasn’t wishing big brother dead. “They say they aren’t dating, and it’s just for her birthday, but a weekend trip seriously it screams romance.”

“And you’re mad they didn’t bring you?”

“I could have been out of the way! Do you know the kind of specialty tech shops they have up there? I need some things you can't get in Hawkins to improve Cerebro and it's twice as much to get them mail order. I could make myself scarce for a couple hours so they can get it on.

He smacks the bill of Dustin’s cap, knocking it down over his eyes, but nobly refrains from giving him a noogie, “Dusty if you ever want to pop your little Mormon girl’s cherry, maybe don’t say shit like ‘get it on.’”

“Suzie is an angel, don’t be crude, man.” Dustin’s hands are quick as they smack him away, that must be another little brother trait.

“An angel, huh, another point in the ‘girlfriend isn’t real’ category. How many imaginary friends do you have, kid? A girlfriend in Utah and a brother that no one but your party has seen.”

The rest of Hellfire starts to trickle in, having used their time waiting for their table more wisely than Eddie has. Dustin’s comment is delayed only momentarily as he says hi to the rest of the freshmen that he definitely saw only a few minutes ago. “For the record, Suzie is very real. And you…” It’s the way he trails off that makes Eddie nervous, the way a light goes on in his eyes that sets the hair at the back of his neck on end. His danger instincts are finely honed and that's the same, 'I'm smarter than you look' Henderson was wearing when he managed to sniff out half the traps Eddie had laid out last session. "You should meet Steve, I bet I could get him to pick us up next week instead of Nancy."

He thinks this must be what the raccoons behind the trailer park feel like. The obvious trap of the shiny silver cage that's been baited so sweet it's hard to resist walking in anyway. "Sure, Henderson, tell the mysterious brother to stop by. Have him bring one of those zines that definitely belongs to him."

Dustin is especially vicious as dispatches with every creature that Eddie throws at him that day. It’s hard to be that upset, he’s feeling pretty fat and happy sitting in whatever animal control rodent trap Henderson thinks he’s got him in.

The next week’s session comes in a haze of vague daydreams and intense session prep. He’s had Steve Henderson on the brain for so long that he all but forgot about his little tête-à-tête with Dustin the week before. Forgot if not for the way that Baby Henderson is vibrating at the Hellfire lunch table when Eddie arrives.

“Steve is coming to get us from Hellfire today!” Eddie personally thinks this doesn’t quite deserve the level of reaction that it’s getting, but Henderson is so worked up no one even needs to prompt him to keep him going. “He had to leave right after his weekend trip to go deal with lawyers and shit.”

“Are they still..?” Lucas trails off, he’s clearly concerned but for all that Eddie hates that the kid is looking down the barrel of jock life he is extremely emotionally adept.

“Mom and Steve both said it was handled now. They won’t answer me when I ask any questions.”

Ominous, everything about Steve Henderson was so fucking weird. A kid who didn’t exist all through high school, that he’s never seen in town, who has lawyers now?

“Maybe Hop could,” the kid started to ask, hopeful.

“Mom says that it’s Steve’s business and we should all stay out of it unless he asks for our help.” Will responds by rote, something he’s clearly already tried before.

“So the infamous Steve Henderson is going to grace us with his presence today?” Eddie knows the answer already, but like most of his vices he can't resist indulging.

"He's taking us all out for ice cream after," Dustin agrees, "you could come too Eddie, I'm sure Steve wouldn't mind!"

"Steve minds everything," Mike grouses.

"Steve always buys your triple scoop sundae."

Eddie thinks Steve Henderson would have elegant fingers. He thinks about how they might toy with the straw of his milkshake while he smiles, coy and teasing, at Eddie, who he's charmed by. This Steve lets Eddie snatch the cherry from his drink, blushes when he gets his stem returned tied in a knot by Eddie's tongue.

"Well if Steve is buying, who am I to refuse an invitation?"

He does not end Hellfire early because Steve Henderson is coming. 

He does, by pure coincidence, need to piss 15 minutes before things are set to wrap up. If that gives him enough time to clean himself up a bit that's just luck. This isn't for Steve Henderson.

His bathroom break, and definitely not pre-date primp session, puts him at the back of the pack when Steve Harrington's maroon beemer pulls into the lot. It feels a little bit like sophomore year again. When his hair was in another awkward stage of growing out and curled around his ears, he didn't have his mom to help him with the curls anymore and he didn't know what to do with them now that they seemed to twist and turn in new directions post-buzz. He caught the sweetest looking boy with puppy dog eyes staring and he'd been so embarrassed about getting caught he'd touched his own locks. Hairsprayed into oblivion and locked firmly into place the touch was ripped away and a shy, 'what can you do' smile was shared between the two of them. It feels a bit like junior year when Steve Harrington broke the keg stand record as a sophomore. Rounding the corner from tipsy into drunk or maybe bypassing it altogether for blackout, he wandered over into Eddie's domain. He had that same shy little wave, but a stronger confidence. He sidled up to Eddie and wrapped a curl around a finger. He tugged, just a bit, the way kids do when they want to see if it'll bounce back. "Yknow you'd be pretty if you were a girl." The slip slide of his definitely drunk tone didn't take Eddie out at the knees any less.

The car curves up closer to the front steps and Henderson is shaking like a rocket leaving Canaveral. He actually starts to take a step toward the still moving car when four hands clamp down on him saving Steve last-name-to-be-determined from a vehicular manslaughter charge. Eddie is the last to release him when he hears that car slide into park. The engine has barely had time to rumble to a stop before Steve Harrington is out of it. A toothy smile splits his face and, hidden behind Byers and Wheeler, Eddie watches as Steve Harrington proceeds to engage in the nerdiest fucking handshake he's ever seen. Steve Harrington finishes dying by what seems to be lethal lightsaber disembowelment and waves at the other three teens. 

"Alright let's rock n roll if you twerps want ice cream before I drop you off. Joyce will kill me if you're late."

"Steve, can Eddie come with us?"

As Henderson asks Eddie now sees the exact size and shape of the trap he is in. The actually dweeby, dungeon master and drug dealer forced to watch the hot, once cool older brother bow to the obligation of Midwestern courtesy now that he's been ambushed with Eddie's existence. Or worse he'll have to stand there and pretend to be unbothered while King Steve shoots both Hendersons hopes and Eddie's dreams in the face with one curled lip.

He never could have imagined the furrow of confusion between his brows. The way lips wrap themselves around his name, tasting it. He hadn't, in his many fantasies, pictured golden brown eyes though he often thought of them snapping up to him like they were now.

A rosy blush blooms across Steve's face. He has the same shy finger wave he did as a freshman. "Depends, Dust, are you gonna give up your shotgun dibs or are you gonna make your troop leader sit in the back with the rest of the Party.” 

He watches as if in slow motion as Henderson lunges for Steve, the elder is laughing as the younger wraps his arms around his neck. There is something very intensely attractive about the lingering jock of it all. How Steve is still upright even as his teenage brother dangles from his neck. “You know it’s Dungeon Master, you get it right with Erica!”

“I have a lot of respect for Erica, the things she does with goblins and kobolds is masterful. You asked me about the lead up to a trap so obvious it felt like an eagle scout showing his little cubbies poison ivy." It's bitchy and nerdy in all the best ways, and then Steve H- Steve looks up at him and winks, "No offense, Munson."

"None taken, Stevie." That seems to catch them both by surprise, the lack of a certain last name to fall back to -- and weeks of imagining what it might be like to interact with the guy who is and isn't right in front of him -- has Eddie overly familiar. "I drove here though." His van stands like a monolith alone in the middle of an empty parking lot.

"Oh."

"But I could meet you there? Are you going to the Dairy Queen by the library or the haunted one?"

"It's not actually haunted," Byers pipes in with frightening sincerity.

"But yeah, the haunted one," Steve says with a boy next door grin.

"Then I will meet you and your charges there Sir Henderson." He bows and only immediately regrets it, now that the once Harrington lord of the school is out of his line of sight. His brain feels like it could short out, faulty wires sparking against memories and daydreams and general hormones.

A sheepie he saved from the slaughter snorts, another - probably Mike - whispers "Gross." There's a grunt that Eddie hopes is the traitor catching an elbow from one of the others. 

But it doesn't. fucking. matter because Steve Whatever laughs, practically giggles at Eddie and his antics.

And Dustin's rocket has come in for a rough landing, "I'm going to regret this, aren't I?"

Steve's hand envelopes the top of Dustin's head, he nearly palms it. It's not quite a noogie, more like he shakes his head for him. "Dusty-bun, why would you regret introducing me to your Dork Mother?"

"I'm gonna tell Ma you're being a bitch again."

"She won't believe you, I'm her favorite." He shoots another wink toward Eddie, a joke he's being allowed in on.

Level headed Dustin Henderson, who explained to him, in depth, how getting overly emotional impairs higher level critical thinking, stomps his foot. "You're so full of shit."

"I am. She chose me, she got stuck with you."

"Steve!"

He laughs at the despair he's caused, ruffling cap covered hair again until Dustin stomps out of reaching distance to climb in the Beemer with the other boys. Brown eyes are bright with mischief when he looks to Eddie, and he's struck by a thought. He was right, he hadn't ever met Steve Henderson before today. This is not the same boy who sat in the cafeteria with a closed mouth smile listening to Tommy H. and Carol. "Let me walk you to your car?" He asks.

"It's right there, Stevie, and do you really want to leave that band of miscreants alone with your car?" He's playing with fire, but the fear of getting burned has never stopped him before. He leans in close, whispers, "They might steal it."

Steve pales, a haunted look in his eye. He shakes it off, squeezing his eyes shut tight,  and that soft smile slips across his face again. "Let me watch you leave then." That smile slides into a smirk, as he looks Eddie up and down.

He was right about getting burned, his face feels like it's on fire as he flees the scene. His tail is definitely not tucked between his legs because Steve is absolutely staring at his ass right now. He doesn't remember how walking is supposed to feel, but it's probably not like this. It would be embarrassing, the fact that he probably looks like a baby deer discovering he has knees for the first time, if it weren't more important that he makes sure each foot is planted so he doesn't acquaint himself with the ground below him. Safely encased in the van, he chances a look through the windshield and confirms that Steve is watching him.

He waves, and yeah it is gratifying to see the guy who at one point had half the girls in school fawning over him duck his head like he's embarrassed at getting caught staring. Sinclair leans up from the back seat, Eddie watches him clap Steve on the shoulder and make a comment on… something, probably him. It makes the rest of the car laugh and Steve thunk his head down on the steering wheel. The horn sounds, an echoing burst of noise that cuts off just as quickly as it starts when Steve jumps in his seat. The seat belt stops his jump short, and he sends another flustered wave Eddie's way when he notices him still watching.

Maybe he'll mention this to Little Red, his new neighbor has mentioned stealing young Henderson's brother and making him a Mayfield instead. A joke that makes a little more sense now. Sinclair has been making moon eyes at her and baby Hopper at lunch for the last week. That will be a better punishment than anything Eddie could do to him at the table.

He waves back at Steve, gives him his most winning smile -- the one he practiced in the mirror for charming pretty boys if he ever got out of the armpit of Indiana. Mimes driving like he's in a bad movie. Across twenty feet and two windows, he can't hear Steve laugh, needs to get to somewhere where he can. He can see the smile though, the dorky thumbs up.

He lets the Beemer pull out in front of him, watches it for just a moment as reality sets in. Reality. He's going to meet Steve Henderson for soft serve. It's a dream come true.

Arwen shifts into gear, and he slides out behind Steve and the sheepies. A whole new world of daydreaming unlocked.

Maybe next week Steve Henderson will let Nancy pick the kids up next week. He'll slip in the back doors of the school, unnoticed by everyone. Stealth bonus obscene for a fighter class. Eddie is moving slow as he moves minis and graph paper maps into the tackle box Wayne gave him, back to the door he misses his rogue slip through the door until he's already grappled.

"Was it a good game, Munson? You win?"

"It's not like one of your sports, Henderson, the wins aren't as clear cut."

Hands start to wander, "Isn't any time you pull one over on the Party kind of a victory?"

"In which case I do stand victorious, your sweet baby brother lost his brand new axe to a mimic."

"Hmm, you know what we used to do after a victory in my 'sports?'"

A hand has migrated to an especially interesting place. "What?"

"We'd hit the showers."

Eddie shakes himself out of the daydream, easing just the smallest bit harder onto the accelerator. He needs something to cool himself off with. He also really wants to see Steve again, to make up for lost time.

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #steve henderson #eddie munson #ruelogy #inspired by another amazing tumblr ficlet #it put worms in my brain and then this happened

[spacebarbarianweird]

Ooh how about a Ranger!Tav who hunts undead (like Vampire Lords 👀) x Astarion?

This is the ultimate monster-hunting duo! Though, Rangers are known to be a bit lame in DnD. If it isn't their favored terrain or favored enemy - they are fucked up.

And Tumblr ate the first rough draft, which caused me some psychic damage.

What if Ranger!Tav is a member of some party of heroes, like "Vox Maquina"? And just can't wait to reunite with their former companions?

Masterlist

Headcanons

Astarion x Ranger!Tav

You never had a chance to talk about your future together. It's not like any of you expected to survive and not be turned into Mindflayers.

When Astarion runs away from the sun, you rush to find him but lose track.

Cities aren't your favored terrain.

Astarion returns to the Elfsong Tavern three days later - he looks like a beaten stray cat.

You cuss him. Use all the known slurs.

Why didn't he come back the first day? Why did he disappear?

You thought he'd died! Burnt to ashes!

He is shocked. 

He has never thought his actions could hurt you. He thought you would be better without him.

You drag Astarion to the bathroom, and, while helping him scrub himself, you finally start talking about your own past.

Something you never really mentioned before.

You have home.

Rather a home base but still home

You have a family.

Rather, a group of weirdos who happened to meet each other years ago and call themselves the Brotherhood of Shadows.

Yes, the name was chosen by a Bard. No one had better suggestions, but you know it's stupid.

There is also a Fighter, a Bard, a Cleric, and a Sorcerer. Together you hunt monsters, bad guys, and protect the common people.

You know, eat the rich and distribute their money among the poor.

And you are coming back.

Astarion is hesitant. He isn't ready to share you. And what if those friends of yours won't accept him?

What if years of friendship are a counterweight to this month of passionate love?

They are monster hunters! Monster hunters don't accept monsters at their homes.

What if one of them is in love with you?

But you still ask him to give it a try.

Astarion prays to all the gods to make the journey as long as possible. 

Deep within, he knows he will lose you.

Suddenly, he notices a raven, circling above you.

"Black Death!" you exclaim, stretching out your hand. 

"It's my pet raven, Black Death. Black Death, this is Astarion".

"Death, death, death," repeats the raven, staring at Astarion.

Then the raven soared into the sky and disappeared.

The next day a Half-Orc Sorcerer rushes toward you, yelling "Tav! Tav is that really you?!"

Astarion stands aside, feeling like a fifth wheel, while you and your old friend share news.

"Listen about this man with me…"

"A vampire? So, you've rejected all the men who ever dared to approach you, including myself, and found yourself a vampire?" 

Astarion feels a wave of anger. He already doesn't like your friends.

But the next moment, the Half-Orc stands in front of him, friendly insisting on joining the Brotherhood.

"Besides, I can't believe there have been so many wild bloodsuckers in these woods. It's good to have a vampire of your own to deal with them, am I right?"

Apparently, no one objects to a vampire in their small army of weirdos.

Or maybe they love Tav so much they are ready to accept anyone she brings along.

"Sign me up for the next Mindflayer's attack. I want to get a man, too!" the Cleric jokes.

Astarion sleeps in your room. When the Brotherhood leaves at daylight, Astarion stays to keep an eye on the homebase.

And he talks to possible contractors, demanding to be paid more than they expect.

He is insufferable in the best meaning of this word.

Astarion makes friends.

He often talks about magic and history with the Sorcerer. Or arguing with the Bard ( they have so much in common it pisses them both off)

Astarion feels at home. He has family, he has friends, he has a person to love and hold.

Even Black Death accepts him as his master, though Astarion isn't always capable of communicating with the bird.

Often, you go on night walks together into the woods, an, since you are both horny as nine hells, it often ends not as expected.

You are switches - both hunters and both prey.

Sometimes Astarion "hunts" you - a murderous vampire chasing a helpless Ranger to subdue to his power and hunger.

Then it's your turn - you are a monster hunter, and no vampire has ever escaped you.

Even the Bard calls you freaks when you return at sunset both covered in dirt (and, probably, other fluids under your clothes).

Astarion cares about you deeply - always making sure you are healed before you embark on another adventure.

And he is the one who nurtures you if you are sick or wounded.

He likes being a hero. He likes being a caregiver, both roles he once despised. 

--

Tag list

@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @astarion-beloved @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 astarion #astarion romance #bg3 #astarion bg3 #astarion headcanon #baldurs gate 3 #astarion headcanons #astarion x tav #astarion x f!tav #tav x astarion #spacebarbarian headcanon #astarion x gn!tav #astarion x gn reader #astarion x reader #dnd #baldurs gate astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion baldurs gate #astarion brainrot #astarion fanfiction #astarion fluff #astarion imagine #astarion x female reader #dnd ranger #oc tav ranger #ranger tav

[snenbubs]

If it's not a problem could you do mammon x sick reader please ❗❗

Of course I can! I'll do HCs, but if you want a one-shot just send in another ask and I'll get to it :D

isnt he cute?

HB MAMMON x SICK!READER

- He has no fucking idea what he's doing.

- At first, that is.

- Let's be honest here, he is a sin. A big, immortal Prince who has probably never had to deal with sickness for his whole life. The topic is foreign to him.

- He always works his clowns and underlings to the absolute bone too, not caring much for their personal ailments and needs. As long as the work is done, he is happy. They know that, he knows that, so its rare he actually comes face to face with the topic of 'illness'.

- Which is why, when you were struck with such a feat, he was HORRIFIED.

- He had noticed something was off the night before; you appeared fatigued, and foggy. He'd ask you to do something and you'd stumble, and stagger. Once or twice misinterpreting or mishearing what he had said and messing up the task completely. It wasn't normal for you to be so tatty, especially around him, but he brushed it off as you being tired. He had worked you extra hard that day, afterall.

- It was the next morning that he really began to panic though.

- He is absolutely NOT a morning person and so usually you get up before him, fighting and clawing past all four of his arms which clung to you like some sort of clawed trap. Your struggle would wake him up and he'd find joy in tackling you back down to bed.

- But instead, that morning he woke up on his own terms. Concerned in his groggy state that you had not taken to escaping his grasp that morning.

- Rather, he'd find you under several sheets shivering like a cold chihuahua despite the intense heat that burned against your flushed skin. You were curled in on yourself, sniffling and sputtering into your palm every so often.

- It's at this point that he has absolutely zero idea of what to do.

- He makes you breakfast, which is something he normally gets the Fizzbots to do, but you don't eat it. Then he tried to get you to drink something but you struggled with that too.

- He thought you were dying.

- NOW, it'd be nice to think that he'd take the day off to be with you. Since, y'know, you're dying. Unfortunately though, this is Mammon we're talking about and a day off is money lost. So you'll just have to die later, when he's done.

- Before he leaves you though he makes sure you have EVERYTHING you could possibly need; a tv, food, water, several Fizzbot servants, a picture frame of himself that you can look at while you die.

- I reckon he'd spend the entire day searching about illnesses and sickness, both scaring and reassuring himself that you might die or you might be okay. He asks around some underlings about how they cope with beint ill, and searches into that some more.

- His search history that day would probably be; "rlly warm but feel cold nd tired dying" , "symptoms of death" , "wht body temperature is dangerous" , "most common illnesses" , "how to know if sm1 is dying" , "how to tell if sickness is fatal" , "how do i care for a sick person" , "what do i do if sm1 ik is sick"

- It works though! By the time the day ends he knows a lot more than he had in the morning, and has concluded that you probably aren't dying - yet.

- As a sin, he can't catch any cold or flu or fever so he isn't afraid of staying close to your side any time he can. Practically tied to you by a string, he'd want to ensure that you aren't suffering any more than you already are.

- He doesn't care how grotesque it can all be either. He doesn't care that you snob into a tissue so much its all sodden and sad, nor that you keep coughing into your fist, and that your hair is greasy and sticking out at multiple places. He adores you and thinks you are the most amazing thing that could have ever happened to him.

- He's kinda like a weighted blanket, which you are so, so greatful for. He nuzzles himself over you and ensures you stay warm. Again, he just wants you to be as comfortable as possible whilst you recover.

- Now that he actually knows whats going on he realises that all the solid food he tried to feed you this morning probably wasn't the best, and so he provides for you the best soups and breads on the market.

- Even after you've recovered, you make fun of him for his utter idiocy regarding demon illness. He hates it. But he loves you. So really he loves it.

#mammon hb #mammon hb x reader #helluva boss x reader #hb mammon #mammon helluva boss #helluva boss mammon #i wish he was real

[anarcho-skamunist]

I'm surprised we ever figured out sculpting. like how does someone in ancient Rome get good at that. Like obviously the first attempt is gonna be a mess, like you're gonna fuck it up and be really bad at first but rather than going through say, scraps of paper/papyrus(already outlandishly expensive for most of history,) you're going through giant slabs of marble and shit. Like sure you can practice on smaller slabs but then what if it turns out you're only good at the small rocks. You're the best tiny sculptor in the world but then that doesn't transfer over to the big stuff and now you've ruined a perfectly good slab that some Senator asshole named Fabius gave you and now you've gotta tell him "fuck sorry fabius i just found out I can only do the small ones" and he'll be like "shit man I was gonna put that in my villa I was gonna impress my crush Gaius Quintus Publius Titus Dickus Smith with that and then we were gonna fuck nasty in the bathhouse and the statue was gonna watch because I have an exhibitionism kink but I'm too shy to ask anyone to watch me fuck nasty in the bathhouse so the statue was the next best thing so that's two reasons that I'm sad about that statue actually." And you'd be like "do you think you could get off if it was a tiny statue because I could do a tiny statue" and he'd think about it and he'd agree to let you make the tiny statue but it would still be really awkward because he's trying to hide that he's upset but he looks so sad like he could cry.

[valorantmenheadcanons]

Innocent and shy masc reader has an incredibly dirty search history and an even worse taste in porn, has a large collection of order receipts from bad dragon. Cypher goes snooping and finds this all out? They have a little "chat" about network security -🐩

this is like my biggest fear except with my parents accidentally opening one of my packages. its either shampoo or a toy gnmsfgns

cw: suggestive, mentions of Corn, technically kind of cyberstalking? it's cypher what do u expect

wc: 718

It's late when you hear a soft knock at your door. You put your phone down on the bed, wondering who's on the other side of the door, especially at this hour. You hope it isn't a call for a last minute mission- the last thing you want right now is to be in a plane in a matter of minutes, geared up to fight.

When you open the door, you're greeted to the sight of a familiar beige figure, standing just a little too close. Cypher never seemed to mind getting in other people's space as long as he was the one doing it; invade his and he'd scamper off in seconds. His blue mechanical eyes scan over you quickly, though in a way that reminds you of someone checking for weapons rather than looking appreciatively.

"I need to talk to you about something," the man chirps, inviting himself inside your room before you can say anything. He slides by you with a careful hand on your shoulder, the leathery material of his gloves cool against your skin. You flush a little at the contact, fleeting but strangely electrifying. You shut your door behind him, folding your arms over your chest as you turn around to face him. You assume he's going to ask for a favour of some kind, or he wants to steal a piece of machinery from you, again, but you're really not in the mood to humour his requests, tired, and a little cranky because of it. Cypher pauses for a moment, hand half-raised in the air like he's trying to figure out exactly what he wants to say. "You know that I am very technology proficient, yes?"

You nod, frowning at the opening. He's usually pretty straightforward when he's asking for something.

"Come on, everyone knows to delete it afterwards. Are you trying to tease me?" Cypher's voice is smooth, peppy and cheerful but calculated, any hint of hesitancy gone. He's talking to you the same way he chides his opponents in a fight he's already won. The realisation sends a shiver up your spine- he knows something that either you don't know or don't want him to know. But you have an inkling, a gut feeling, that it's something you didn't want him to know. Not yet, anyways.

"What are you talking about?" You try, a little too quick to appear genuinely confused. Cypher's head only tilts minutely.

"You're too smart to be playing dumb. I mean, really?" Cypher scoffs, taking a few steps forwards, forcing you to take one back to maintain a semblance of distance between you two. "Looking up Moroccan models?" Another step forward, and your back brushes against the wall next to the door. "Picturing me as any one of them, hm?" Another step, and there's barely any space between you, and you want to die.

You hadn't intended for him to see any of that- although that meant he was snooping around your private search history, a whole other issue to tackle- but you also hadn't not intended for him to see any of that. It was a blurred line, your attraction to Cypher.

"'dirty talk in arabic'?" He has the decency to stifle a laugh, which only makes your face flush deeper, embarrassment, shame, and something else washing over you. "Mm, not to mention your purchasing history. Dirty, dirty, dirty boy," he clicks his tongue. "I thought you were all sweet, not so perverted."

You finally find your voice, the tips of your ears burning at this point. "I'm not the one snooping around in other people's stuff!" You tout back, a weak deflection.

"I'm not the one imagining their coworker is fucking them."

"Shut up!" You groan, really wishing with all your heart that you could be anywhere but here.

Cypher's beady blue eyes lift with a mirth you can sense through his mask. "Ohhh... but you like it. You're so red," and this time he does chuckle, mean and condescending, and damn if it doesn't send a little jolt of warmth through you, the idea that that little laugh is just for you to hear. "How about this: You show me which videos you like, and I'll give you a... personal lesson in how to delete your search history. How does that sound?"

#valorant #valorant headcanons #valorant x reader #valorant cypher #valorant cypher x reader #male reader #x male reader #valorant fanfiction #valorant smut

[melvisik]

OFMD - TREASURE, LOVE, AND EDWARD

Edited - Possible trigger warnings at the bottom under the gif of Edward and MerStede by @soapbubbles511. Thanks to @agneswarda for pointing this out in the reblogging tags.

Totally joining in with this discussion about the deleted scenes (even though I'm extremely late to the party)...

Source crediting set decorator Lindsey Cantrell's insta at linds_cantrell

Absolutely, Ed is a beautiful hot mess splayed out on the ground pouring whateveritis into his gaping mouth, and we were sorely robbed of some awesome shots (no doubt due to budget/time cuts). Also, the text here somewhat vindicates the fandom's in-depth observations as to the incredible weight of Ed's unhappiness at this point.

So here it comes, because reiterating fandom analyses and interpretations is fun...

One of the key elements we see in season one is Ed's desire for the fine things he's been denied in much of his youth, things his own mother told him they could never have. Mother Teach frames it as it being a matter of providence or even nature, because that isn't who they are rather than accrediting it to unfair circumstances they were born into.

Who can blame her really? The poor woman was a victim of the unfair social class/caste system of the 18th century and she had an abusive, degrading dick for a partner.

Anyway, that fine piece of silk she gives her son is probably one of the biggest symbolic tools in TV history - Ed's fondness for fine things, his wish to be one of 'those kinds of people' (despite the odds) thinking it will make it happy, his connection to affection, his first bond with Stede Bonnet both in camaraderie...

...and in love.

And then, of course we see this...

Well then.

Long before the unhinged binge-raiding, Ed had already accrued more riches than some uppity officer can shake a fucking stick at, but he had yet to find that elusive something he'd been pursuing since childhood.

Source

Cue Stede Bonnet, a constituent of that aristocratic world Ed's been dreaming about and a sweet representation of finery and refinery.

...sorta. Really, they just pass the time so well...

Extremely well, like 'welcome to the family'...

But at the beginning of season two, what Ed came to treasure most is gone, and he can't replace it no matter how many valuables he collects. There's a void in his heart he was on a rampant quest to fill, and just when he thought he'd found someone that can occupy some of that space, he's abandoned by him.

So, afterwards (and after some other stuff) Ed jumps from raid to raid as Blackbeard 2.0, raising hellions and sending them out to play, pillage, and plunder.

But he does this without any sense of care or pleasure. Another day in the life of a pirate. Make the plan, execute the plan, make the plan, execute the plan, and again, and again, and again... so fucking boring.

He's amassed so much stuff that the crew literally has to dump it overboard, and only more is coming in because he's determined never to divert from this strict regiment, whether it's because he intends to incite Ned Lowe into coming after him or to have it serve as a distraction from the unyielding pain.

Either way, he shuts down in a sort of resignation and fully conforms to the role expected of him, because they think it's just who he is...

In the interim, during those all too frequent moments of inaction, he self-medicates with drugs and alcohol and wallows about in misery, sometimes in Stede's old cabin surrounded by riches that are ultimately worthless to his broken heart.

It's a fairly common trope - a gut-wrenching display of unhappiness whilst surround by troves of treasure.

But we see here that Ed takes it a step farther, reverting to an almost childlike state and enacting his fantasy with dolls.

And with those cut scenes, we could very well have seen how he behaves similarly with the treasure, perhaps by playing dress up with the jewelry or admiring these objects that should, by all rights, represent the vast wealth he'd once hoped to achieve.

He's surrounded by the fine things he coveted in his childhood, but now he finds none of it remotely satisfying. He's had a taste of true joy, and all this stuff just listlessly lying around pales in comparison.

Is he having fun? Nope, because this was fun...

Is he basking in the splendor? Nope, because this was splendor...

Does he recognize the value of the treasure at his fingertips? Nope, because you know where this is going...

In fact the only stolen piece that means anything to him is fiscally worthless.

That figurine is a cheap representation of something intrinsically valuable. Just like the jewels, the furs, the gold, and every lifeless item in that room, it essentially means nothing save for the memory Ed attaches to it.

Ed's life has become that dull drag of monotony just like before. On the outset, that life was probably fun for a while and perhaps did initially satisfy his thirst for wealth, acceptance and attention, but over time he basically became married to his work, 'working for Blackbeard,' an unhappy husband to piracy.

This discomfort in a married state only started to alleviate when that bizarre, cheerful lunatic showed Ed that he can absolutely escape his situation and doesn't have to let his past prevent him from moving forward.

Ed was fully willing to give it all up. Stede served as a perfect conduit for this, but falling in love with him altered Ed's aim - he no longer necessarily desires the lavish lifestyle and/or identity of Stede Bonnet, but rather something loads better...

Then we have the sharp turn-around, and Ed is in an even worse state than where he started off.

He's been there, done that, and even trying to reach for an extreme version of Blackbeard just isn't quite cutting it.

Death seems to be the only unexplored avenue left to him. It might not make him happy, but then he was never meant for happiness, was he? He's just not that kind of person. But it can, at least, just make everything stop...

And these scenes could have shown so much of that - the impotence of all the wealth available for Ed's leisure and how spending the day with someone is the better treasure. This kind of treasure later only serves as a sign of Ed's guilt at the atrocities he committed, and it's only useful in helping others throw a big bash or giving other less fortunate kiddies a better chance than he had.

It really wasn't worth all that much to Ed in the end. Just as it wasn't worth all that much to Stede Bonnet either.

The man who sees value in what's thought to be worthless, who discerns fortune in a chest of blue dirt and exquisite detailing in a pile of junk, finds his ultimate treasure.

P.S. The treasure in that scene also possibly serves as reflection of all the 'finery' attributes Ed sees in Stede, the beauty and status he'd once craved presented up in a warm jaunty melody that somehow matches Ed beat for weird beat.

P.P.S. And for the fantastical lovers - Stede's the handsome prince (mer-prince in fact) that helps this beautiful princess escape from the dragon's hoard.

Warning: This post contains implications of suicide, abuse, drug use, and alcohol abuse. These subjects are delicate and complex and I am no expert, so if any information/opinions in this post are evaluated to be erroneous, seem careless, or cause too much controversy, this post will be deleted and apologies given.

Constructive criticism is welcome.

#ofmd #ofmd s2 #self indulgent #our flag means death #stede bonnet #edward teach #gentlebeard #blackbonnet #blackbeard

[ellenthefox]

"From what I gathered, there were no responses, and it was strongly alluded from Q that you wouldn’t be allowed to play on both servers if you were a part of the QSMP. Which totally makes sense for Quackity, as there’s not that many creators on the QSMP and it takes a lot of time to make all the mods and updates for content and you want it to be as active as possible." What is he actually talking about right now??? Someone has either lied to him or he is 100% making this up. I could eat my words later but Phil and Wilbur were already on another SMP! Anyone remember Origins??? Yeah Phil slowed down the origin stream for the time being cause of the egg arc but the implication was he'd put effort in again when others did (looking at you tommy this is your server xDD ) So what the fuck is Dream trying to say here? ALSO the "personally have experienced an elevated level of in real life threats & stalkers & even had the police involved in somebody showing up at my house, & even putting trackers on my family vehicles, surrounding this drama, for the first time since pre-face reveal" What were the people wearing fucking Quackity merch or something??? Dream you've had a massive history of people trying to doxx and find you, how the fuck could you possibly know it was specifically to do with the QSMP/USMP situation?? What good has making this novel accomplished rather than going about creating the USMP and bringing those communities together in your own way was going to accomplish??

#dream neg #dream critical #I've never really felt one way or the other about dream tbh #I just didnt watch cause he gave me bad vibes ever since the Stan video where he lumps together his haters and “Techno-fans” #And i've genuinely been angry for him on occasion with the shit that gets flung his way for no reason or he has no control of #But this is stupid he’s only exacerbating the situation with any more word he says let alone the petty picture dropping to try and prove #he had the idea first somehow #not saying the qsmp or Quackity is perfect or anything but this just feels ridiculous

[hangmanbrainrot]

Heyo! I’d like to make a request if that’s alright. I want to know how hangman would react to his pregnant wife enjoy sleeping on her pregnancy pillow more than in his arms. Because we can all tell his major love language would be physical touch ❤️ Thank you❤️

hopefully i did your request justice, anon! <3 i'll be labeling pregnancy as a warning in the tags, as well as in the warnings below, since i know that can be triggering for some.

warnings: mentions of pregnancy, reader has children, established relationship, marriage, swearing, sierra has decided jake's middle name is michael.

notes: none!

word count: 680

pairing: jake seresin x afab!reader

the pillow thief

The first time Jake saw the godforsaken pillow was when it arrived on your doorstep from Amazon. See, such a large box naturally drew his attention, and he’d just about dragged it in the house when you came waddling down the stairs — you and the children you’d been growing for 24 weeks.

“Oh my god, it's here!” You'd said, and he'd been cursing the damn thing ever since. The problem wasn't with the pillow itself, but rather the fact that you'd rather cuddle it than your husband some nights. 

Now, six weeks later, Jake was more than a little grouchy and okay, yeah, he was pouting, but he was tired of not being able to hold you close at night. Every night, you'd beat him up to your bedroom so you were already curled up with the thing and half snoring before he even had a chance to make a move. But tonight, when you'd gotten up to go to the bathroom — and declined his many offers to help — he saw his window of opportunity. In the time you were gone, he'd managed to stuff the grey polyester under your king sized bed before you'd even turned on the faucet to wash your hands.

The man could barely hide his self-satisfied grin when you re-emerged, but he definitely hadn’t prepared for the absolute panic on your face.

“Oh no,” you’d said softly. Were your eyes welling up? “Not again.” 

“Baby?” Jake tested, brows knitted together in confusion. “Baby, what’s going on?” 

“Lulu stole my pillow, again!” you practically wailed in response, tears already dribbling down your cheeks. “Jakey, you didn’t see her? The pillow thief. I’m gonna start closing our bedroom door at night, I can’t believe this. She’s probably already chewing on it and I’m gonna have to order another one.”

By the time you’d finished speaking, you were verging into the territory of hysterical, so Jake quickly decided the jig was up. 

“Wait, wait, wait, before you exile our poor sweet girl…” He released a heavy sigh, then bent to slide his hand under the bed. He couldn’t let your dog take the fall for his theft; his conscience would never let him live it down. As soon as you realized what was going on, you gasped aloud. 

“Jacob Michael Seresin!”

He’d just settled the pillow back on the bed when he glanced up to catch sight of the downright fury in your gaze. He knew you loved him, otherwise he couldn’t have convinced you to marry him and have not one, but three children with him. (The twins were a surprise, nobody on either side of either of your families had produced any. Until now.) But Jake was also fairly certain you would love to exact some sweet revenge on him right about now. He had to clean this up, and fast.

“Okay, let me explain. I just wanted…”

“This had better be a good fuckin’ explanation, Jake.”

To say he was on thin ice was putting it lightly. No, right now, he was out in the middle of a frozen lake and cracks were appearing more rapidly by the minute.

“I wasn’t going to hide it from you forever. I just… Um, maybe, sort of wanted you to, y'know, hold me instead. Pretend I'm the pillow.”

For the first time in the history of your entire relationship, Jake had absolutely no idea what your expression meant. It was fucking terrifying. As you crept closer to him, Jake found himself sliding back further on your mattress to be closer to the headboard. You were downright vicious with a pillow when you needed to be, and he was worried he’d provoked you just enough this evening.

But, instead, you threw your arms around him as tightly as you could with your still-growing children between you. The sigh you released was downright dreamy when you spoke, but the contrast between your words and the sound had Jake’s head spinning. “Oh, honey. If you try something like this again, you’ll be sleeping on the couch until the twins are toddlers.”

#sierra answers 💌 #anonymous #jake seresin x reader #pregnancy tw #tw pregnancy

[slocumjoe]

If Sole wasn't around, who do you think each companion would hook up with? (If anyone)

Since all of them meet through Sole, we're just going to keep that funky guy around...maybe they go moon over Edward Deegan, like a civilized person of taste and class

Cait; i could see her ending up with anyone, but I can't see her ending up happy with most of them. Honestly, I think her best bet would be Piper, maybe Preston. Preston, she'd have to have a lot of character development for...shake off some of her more raider-y traits. As for Piper, that's more her speed, and I think Cait would do well, having Nat around, getting to be Auntie Cait. Piper is more of a troublemaker and spitfire, and I think Cait could easily get bored with Preston. Happy, yes, but Cait gets a little stir crazy, not getting into trouble.

Curie; I fucking love Mac x Curie, I'll admit...but I'm not sure she'd, in text, care much for him. I also really like Curie x Danse, both are very cute to me. I think I like Danse x Curie more, as they're both scientifically minded, care very much about history and preservation of it, and big scary man who loves his small and sweet wife who's actually the weird, unsettling one is top tier.

Danse; Again, I can see him with Curie...and again, Preston as well. I've said before that Danse is very adaptable, romantically, so really, you could make a case for any of the other companions?? Some would absolutely be harder than others, and Gage is an outright fuck no, period. Gage is a fuck no for literally everyone here, spoilers. But Danse...as long as you've got some morals, and will be nice to him, you've got a chance. Low bar? Yeah. Yeah it is.

Deacon; Deacon can't even be romanced by fucking Sole. Bitch needs a crowbar to open up. But...if you have a taste for romantic black comedies...X6 x Deacon is fucking hilarious. Is it possible? No. Not even an inch. But that's not the point. The point is I like it and it's funny. As for what Deacon could actually land? Uh...no one? He's a known liar, he's closed off as shit, and he's prone to identity theft. I think the only one that stands a chance is Nick, but would Nick put up with it enough to fall in love?? Idfk.

Gage; No one. Not even X6. I've seen people say Cait, and I have to ask, WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU? CAIT WAS A SLAVE. GAGE IS A SLAVER. I LOVE HIM TO BITS BUT HE VERY MUCH IS A SLAVER THIS IS NOT ACCEPTABLE

Hancock; I kinda like MacCock but Valencock is also pretty good...honestly, Hancock has never struck me as a...romance kinda guy? Like, I get why he's romancable, but...I always felt like he'd be better with a bunch of casual romantic relationships, rather than one super serious one. But, I can see Hancock getting with Nick, Mac, and for a very fun wildcard, that I love for being a shitshow, Danse. Yes. Yes I just supported DanseCock. Its FUNNY AND QUESTIONABLE. OF COURSE I LIKE IT.

MacCready; So, Curie and Hancock I've already said, but if I didn't think Piper was a lesbian, I'd say her. What? They both got kids, both like candy, both have similar values and methods of getting around...but they'd butt heads a lot. A very bickery couple. But MacCock is also cute, though I think they'd have a lot of Very Real Issues. Curie, less so, because Curie is better at communication and doesn't do things Mac is Very Not Okay With. Though, he'd have some shit to stop doing for both MacCurie and MacCock, ei, stealing and murder, etc.

Nick; VALONGFELLOW SQUAD LETS GOOOO. But honestly, no one. Maybe Codsworth. I say Hancock, but pretty unlikely. Nick is a Confirmed Bachelor, man. Thats just how the cookie crumbles. UNLESS YOU GET ANOTHER OLD MYSTERIOUS DEAD WIFE MAN LETS GOOOO

Piper; If not Cait, Ellie, maybe? I always struggle to look at Piper beyond my Very Famous Issues With Her. It's just, Piper is lesbain to me. There are Two Other Girls. Curie is an...okay option? I think Piper would seriously butt heads with Curie in a relationship, though I can't put my finger on why exactly...on the other hand, Piper has genuine chemistry with Cait. Honestly, I don't put much stocks into canon x canon ships, anymore, I prefer the found family thing. Piper really showed that for me, thinking about this, because I don't really go crazy for her with anyone? It doesn't help she's got one option.

Preston; I've said he had a hoe phase and boy howdy, could Preston pull any of these bitches if he put his mind to it. But who would he want to pull? Not Curie, too naive and optimistic. Not MacCready, used to be a Gunner and acts like it. Cait, he wouldn't like her that way, as we know her. Again, personal growth needed there. Gonna have to say Danse as a flat, completely possible possibility. For a non-companion, Sturges. Obvi.

X6-88; I liked Curie x X6 for a time until DeacX6 revealed itself to me in a fever. But neither of these are based in reality. So, much like Gage, no one. Maybe they can hang out as bachelors and make fun of people together, idk. Bromance.

#fallout 4 #fo4 #paladin danse #preston garvey #nick valentine #x6-88 #piper wright #companions react #robert joseph maccready #porter gage

[jadedbirch]

The Three Musketeers (2023) - Part 1: d'Artagnan

Directed: Martin Bourboulon

Starring: Vincent Cassel, Eva Green, François Civil 

First of all, you do not know the struggle we had to go through to even get our eyeballs on this movie! Only die hard Dumas idiots like me would have even bothered 🤦🏻‍♀️. Finally, we had to buy it from AppleTV. Anywho, below is my live blog of the latest French nonsense! I make a point of tutoring myself watching as many 3 Musketeers adaptations as possible, regardless of the psychological damage, and I kind of have high hopes for this one despite the fact that I can already tell they cast more for 20 Years After than for The 3 Musketeers. But I'm willing to pretend there are no good, young actors in France (because there's no other way to explain these casting choices) for the sake of my own sanity. The rest of my babbling and movie spoilers will be below the cut!

I see we start the movie in 1627, which already makes me laugh 🤣. The book famously starts in 1625 and then they time skip a year and a half into the future because I guess Dumas remembered that the war starts in 1627. Alex was the king of inexplicable time skips and I see the movie has chosen to stick to history rather than literary canon 👌🏻.

Everything is cold, dark, and wet. I have no idea what's going on, or who this blond woman is, or why d'Artagnan is coming back from the dead. But I'm always in favor of immortal abominations 😈.

It does entertain me that Eric Ruf, who played Aramis in an earlier French adaptation, plays Richelieu in this one. Nice touch.

LOL d'Artagnan gate crashing the musketeer headquarters all "I'm not Soviet, the French do not stand in line!" Anyways, he's authentically obnoxious, which I like, although clearly also 20 years too old.

I feel like this is an AU that takes place before they invented soap and also dyes, which is hilarious because if they're going for historical accuracy, this is just what the plebs think looks "authentic". Why are these men all so dirty and old? At least they make fun of Athos being a thousand years old in the movie, but why is Jussac also so ancient? And still serving in the guards? Life expectancy back then was like 25, but surely no one would be serving in the army past the age of 50, which was like Ancient for the 1600s, even among nobility.

I must laugh at the fact that Athos straight up introduces himself to d'Artagnan as Athos de Sillegue, le comte de La Fère. So, I see we are just going to go there 🤭🤭🤭. This changes his story arc completely though, stay tuned for my whinging. 🤦🏻‍♀️

Absolutely incredible, legendary , A++, 11000/10: bisexual Porthos waking up in bed with a lady and a dude after a night of debauchery! Chef's fucking kiss! I forgive the fact that there are no young people in France.

Aramis, so far is very Murder Kitten. I do wish he'd wash his face more and do something about his guyliner (I feel like he should have just committed to MORE MAKEUP frankly because the guyliner alone is odd), but c'est la vie, I guess.

Plus one point for Athos getting wrongly arrested, minus twenty points for making Athos a Protestant WTF? And in what world would a nobleman of Athos' lineage get sentenced to death for stabbing an unknown woman? This is all so silly! (I do have to give Milady points for just like fucking with him so fantastically. Plus one revenge point to Milady.)

Aramis torturing a guy to save Athos is honestly 👌🏻👌����👌🏻👌🏻 11/10 Murder Kitten, automatic plus one point.

This is all incredibly Dramatique, as much as it strains credulity. I love it when modern directors decide that they can write better "action" than Dumas himself. I'm just sitting here screaming "Why would you have that conversation where anyone can hear you!" Minus one point.

I must say Constance and d'Artagnan have a much more believable romance here than in the book. Plus 5 non-creeper points.

(Please I can't stop looking at how old all these Musketeers are 😅😅😅)

Okay so they've also given Athos a BROTHER. Who is part of a Protestant conspiracy. This is all so fucking crazy, I don't even know what to say. Am I watching the musketeers or La Reine Margot? 🤔

Incidentally, the King also gets a brother! Everyone gets a brother! J/K at least the King really did have a historical brother. Athos just gets fucked with in this movie a lot. Automatic minus one point for unnecessary siblings.

WHY must you all insist on having these super SECRET conversations in the middle of a public square where literally anyone can hear you? Minus one dumbass point.

And now d'Artagnan must go to England.... Alone? Because it's more heroic this way? Ambushed by ghost squirrels in the woods? Oh no, that's just Athos, lurking in the woods, as one does. "All misery comes from love." Thanks, Old Man Lush.

This revisionist tale of Milady's past is all very convenient but I FUCKING HATE IT every single time they try to do this in modern adaptations. Let Milady Be Evil 2023! But I see that you will not. Listen, it's not "feminist" to turn the villain into the victim. I'm so tired. 🤦🏻‍♀️ These misguided attempts at feminism really do not do her any favors, she has a lot more agency as simply the Really Bad Girl who just wanted money and power. Minus 5 points for not letting Milady have any fun and minus another 10 points for giving her an abusive ex-husband!

As for Athos, IMO it's always much more compelling to let him be the guy who tried to kill his beloved wife for betraying him, than to make him the spineless man who turns her over to the authorities for Handwavium. Yes, it's pretty fucked up. But it's much more humanizing and makes him a darker, more interesting character. And I will always maintain that.

(This movie is so fucking dark, all the scenes take place at night or in some cthonic tunnels or prisons ffs have mercy on my eyes!)

Oh dear, here we go again. Milady taking a Dramatique - and completely unnecessary - dive off a cliff. Only this time, we know she doesn't die because.... She can swim? And definitely will not have all her bones broken by that 1000 ft fall. Minus 20 points for lazy writing.

(My God, everyone is so dirty, you would think they never did their laundry in France 🤦🏻‍♀️)

Ironically, the only well lit scene takes place in what looks like the Notre Dame which is just very silly as that place is a sepulcher.

(Once again, we are advancing the plot by having super secret conversations conducted in the middle of the palace with an open door where anyone can see and hear you plotting 🤦🏻‍♀️ Minus one petty point.)

Okay, so poor Constance has been kidnapped, and our young hero (who is already a Lieutenant because he and his pals conveniently saved the King's life in a plot twist that was very necessary in other to return Athos to favor in this version) lies unconscious in the streets. They probably didn't even try to kill him this time because they know he's immortal. And speaking of people who just won't die, in a mid-credits scene, it is confirmed that Milady is indeed, very much Not Dead Yet. Surprise! The scene is now set for war in The Three Musketeers: Part 2: Milady.

In summary:

I tallied up my totally random points and ended up with a score of -51, which is Not Good, my friends.

Okay, so I've seen much worse? It's better than Atrocity in 3D, for example, which was just barely watchable as a film and as an adaptation. But they changed so much about the plot and some of the main characters, that it doesn't really feel true to the spirit of the book at this point, which is my main criteria for measuring whether an adaptation is successful. And the main reasons for that are because it's much darker and grittier and less fun than the novel. Which - Quelle domage!

I know that as an unrepentant Athos fangirl, I tend to be biased, so I was trying to be on guard (heheh get it?) for my own biases while watching this. But it's really difficult when Ya Boy is such an integral part of the novel as well as this particular adaptation. And so I must regrettably come back to what a shame it is that they've cast a 60 year old Athos (Vincent Cassel is 57 and he's a fabulous actor whom I've loved in many of his worlks), and I feel like they had to rewrite his character to be more age appropriate and less of the drunken asshole he is in Dumas' first d'Artagnan book. But that's the asshole I fell in love with, and will stan forever. Without him going around beating his servant, indulging his gambling addiction, and being a sarcastic pain in everyone's ass, it's just a completely different story.

Pros:

Hot Eva Green!

bisexual Porthos!

d'Artagnan is given a much less creepy love story with Constance (and I assume he will also not be nonconning Milady in this adaptation)

The King and Queen are much more humanized and sympathetic here.

Cons:

Visually really drab, everything is brown, everyone is dirty.

Very little humor unlike in the novel and some other adaptations.

EVERYONE IS WAY TOO OLD, which changes the feeling of the story significantly, and IMO for the worse, because these people are just not allowed to have fun, and subsequently, neither is the audience.

I will still absolutely be here for Part 2 because I am a masochist!

Grade: B- as a piece of art, but a C as an adaptation of the Dumas classic.

#the three musketeers #2023 the three musketeers #alexandre dumas #the three musketeers: d'artagnan

[mymainwastoocluttered]

So, have you seen Mao Mao Heroes of pure heart??

So, there is this character called Adorabat, super chaotic. Imagine Mc/Yuu, by a potion mishaps, she gets turn into a child again and has the same attitude as Adorabat. Screaming n all.

RIP the whole NRC cuz nobody can with this absolute ball of destruction and adorableness. Except Mal-Mal, Lilia and probably Jamil.

Hello! I never watched Mao Mao, but after watching some videos to get the feel for Adorabat, I gotta say I really should watch it. Tired, Soft and Chaos Child, perfect combination

Have children, they said (NRC)

— ᕙ⁠[⁠･⁠۝･⁠]⁠ᕗ

No one but Floyd is happy. This day will go down in NRC's history as "The Day Only Floyd Had a Blast"

Ace is the culprit, of course. Crewel chewed him after class, and Riddle chewed him twice as much at the dorm.

"How was I supposed to know that mixing that stuff together would do something?" It's POTIONS, Trappola, you dumbass

Child Prefect is adorable. Really, really cute.

What's not cute is her screeching that one can hear from the other side of the island. Some boys swear up and down that RSA will eventually knock on their doors to ask whatever they're killing so cruelly

The beastmen have it particularly bad, since about 95% of them has very sensitive ears

Leona is fucking DEAD. Cheka's screeching was already enough for his poor ears, but Reader's are on another level. Ruggie is not sure if he finds it funny or if he sympathizes

Riddle is another one who's dying, but because of a slight different cause. How can he educate a child when all his approaches are... Harsh? He doesn't want to be hated by Reader at any age, and he certainly doesn't want to treat her like his mom treated him.

Trey and Cater wince every new scream, but they're pretty good at taking care of her. Trey has experience with children, and Cater is just a fun person to be around. They tend to bicker because Cater wants to give her candies, but Trey worries about her teeth, to which Cater complains that there's just as much sugar in a tart than in a piece of candy, and they go from there

Jack does not think they should be giving any sugar to such a hyper child, but he'd rather she be holding candies than anything that could be used as a weapon. She has hit so many ankles already

Vil is keeping his distance after Reader threatened to pull on his hair. She's cute to look at from a distance, he says, and then leaves. Because of that, Epel is very willing to be near her, if only to get away from Vil, though he's appreciate if she stopped throwing his apple carvings on people's head.

Rook is actually having an ok time, since a hyper child means a child he needs to watch and run after. Very good prey, she loves playing hide-n-seek with him

Azul has practically locked himself in the office. He thinks she's cute, but his poor three hearts can't take two Floyds being loud and violence happy. He's very jealous of Jade, who appears to be having a grand time. It's probably the almost two decades with Floyd, this eel feels nothing.

Floyd is, as mentioned before, having the time of his life with a even more hyper tiny him to terrorize the world with him.

Jamil absolutely loves child Reader. Not because she's cute (tho he will agree that she is), but because she's giving Kalim some of his own medicine: does whatever she wants, whenever and however she wants, independent of whatever is happening around her, and expects him to follow her thought process. She manages to out-do Kalim in being a chatterbox and Kalim looks like Jamil on a good day: stressed, tired and done.

(Child Prefect is also pretty well mannered and behaved near Jamil, probably some remnant of her older self who knows this boy needs a break. Maybe that's why she wants Kalim to be the babysitter instead)

Sebek is SUFFERING. WHY IS THIS SMALL HUMAN SO LOUD?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE IS BEING LOUD, HAVE YOU NOT HEARD THE TINY HUMAN?! TINY HUMAN, CEASE YOUR YELLING AT ONCE!

Silver appreciates that she doesn't allow him to sleep... but also please let him sleep. Sometimes he does want to sleep. He gets surprisingly close to Leona in their quest to find a place she won't find them to nap

Lilia is also having the time of his life. It's Lilia, there's not much to say. He will give her a tiny sword and teach her how to use it. Say goodbye to your knees, NRC.

Malleus isn't sure about any of this, but then Reader sits on his lap and begs to nibble on his horns, and he is sold. Another one who gets a well mannered, behaved child. Other than the horn nibbling.

Ace and Grim are not allowed to come near her without Deuce and Jack with them. Deuce was given the explicit permission to punch Ace's face if he comes up with any stupid plan, so was Jack.

Idia is locked in his room. He can't take a hyper child. He can't take a hyper child that keeps knocking on his door and going "do you wanna build a snow maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan?". It's the middle of spring. There's no snow. Please stop.

Ortho is more than happy to stay with Reader. Noise? He can adjust his hearing. Too much energy? Hah! Same, quite literally. Wants to hit stuff? Well, Ignihyde has a training room full with breakable drones!

Crewel hates and loves her. He hates the loudness and the rowdiness, but he loves when she actually calms down and accompanies him. He likes cute pups, sue him

Trein is also one who gets a well mannered child, mostly because he's scary. But Lucius will let her pet him if she behaves, so that's also behind her good behavior

Vargas is basically Floyd 2.0. Someone get this child away from him. No, don't let Sam be alone with her instead! He isn't the problem, the problem is his friends from the other side who love to screech with her

Crowley is in Hell. She screams at him, hits his knees and bites his ankles if he gets too close. No one can tell why, but it might be yet another remnant of her older self. Everyone accepts that theory, except Crowley, who doesn't understand how she doesn't like his generous self.

After a week, the Ramshackle Housewarden is back to her actual age, and 90% of the NRC is crying of relief

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst imagines #twst x reader #x fem reader #requested #anon request

[cindersnows]

ava sticktober prompt 1: sticks flowers

YEAH i know day one is sticks but i couldn't muster up the energy to draw every single stick or even just every member of the cg. my bad

i did however grab the opportunity to draw a scene from the new chapter of my fic where blue gives purple flowers though so there's that. i will also post the actual chapter and pretend it's for sticktober here

(below cut)

That evening, when Purple was escorted back to his room, his mind was filled with questions.

Why did Duke Green and Baron Rowan forgive him so easily? Was there any deeper meaning to what the Duke had said, or was he really just giving Purple advice? People didn't normally just- give random tips to their opponent, not unless they wanted to lose. Was this a Hollowic Empire custom?

There was the issue of the mission the King had given him too— steal the Craft Gemstone. Three days after arrival, and the prince hadn't even looked into the possible location of the gemstone.

For a moment, Purple felt irritated; Why would they brother task them something so difficult? There were theives and mercenaries all across the country that could do this job a million times better, especially considering the fact that basically everyone in the empire would have their eyes on Purple. They weren't even good at fighting! Why them?

Fucking hell.

They flopped onto their bed, groaning. This was way too much for them to deal with tonight. They'd much rather just sleep and not have to deal with any of this. Maybe if things went right, they wouldn't have to wake up.

___________________

He slept through the whole night.

If he dreamed, he couldn't remember it, save for the lingering feeling of sadness that he often woke up with.

He would've rolled over and closed his eyes again, a futile effort to sleep for a bit longer, but the sunlight streaming through the curtains told him there was no point.

Purple took a deep breath, savoring his last moments in the comfort of his bed, before swiftly sitting up to get ready for the day. He drearily threw the sheets off himself and stood up, straightening his nightdress. The servants had already taken out his clothes for the day, as per his request, so that was one thing out of the way.

Getting ready took around an hour and a half—- the prince had only worn the barest of clothes: a simple white shirt, jacket and a pair of trousers. He didn't intend to do much today, head still swarming with emotions from the duel the previous day. He didn't quite want to address that.

Often, when he didn't feel like dealing with the pressures of socializing and high society, he would withdraw to his room for days at a time, focusing solely on his work to the point he forgot to eat and drink. It was unhealthy, he knew, but it helped him wind down.

This was one of those times. And since Purple couldn't exactly work while in a foreign city, he'd have to settle for reading books instead.

“Kombu, please get someone to bring me a few books on history and mythology,” He called out, not bothering to open the door.

Kombu Cone was the knight that the King had sent to protect Purple during the trip. They hadn't spoken much, but the knight seemed content to obey his orders with any conversation, and Purple was more than happy to do the same.

A small grunt of confirmation sounded from outside the door. After what felt like forever, a servant scurried into the room, holding a small pile of books.

“These are the librarian's recommendations; Please let us know if there are any specific books you would like to read,” the servant said. Purple nodded at her, and she quickly exited the room with a bow.

He grabbed the first book off the pile, inspecting the cover. 'The history of Dojo Duel Tournaments', the title read.

Purple hummed, running his finger down the side of the book. Dueling Tournaments were a large part of culture across the world, but they weren't very important in the Nether Kingdom. Back home, the warriors prided themselves more on battle strategies and war tactics rather than competitive fighting, and the books in the Royal Palace's library reflected this.

This was the first time Purple had picked up a book on the subject, but it never hurt to learn more about other cultures. He flipped open the book and began to read.

A few days passed like this; Purple would spend the whole day at his desk or in his bed reading, only taking breaks to sleep, eat, and bathe.

Occasionally, he heard muttering outside — Hollowic servants questioning the knights and servants that had accompanied him about whether it was normal for the prince to stay in his room for this long.

He didn't bother to pay much attention to those conversations.

Instead, he preferred to dive deeper into his books, living out the stories. That was what he loved about reading. It was like travelling to different time periods and countries, all within the safety of his room. This especially rang true with history and mythology, the latter often serving to entertain him with ridiculous stories attempting to explain the various natural phenomenons of their world.

Plus, it was fun to pick out the themes found throughout the various mythologies. Ancient Hollowic mythology seemed to place a lot of emphasis on tragedies and redemption, for example. This was a stark contrast to the stories Purple had been raised with, all detailing tales of war and over-convoluted revenge. He cringed, recalling the one where two groups of people played hot potato with a magical staff in an ongoing battle for weeks. Clearly, the writers of that one weren't sure how to create effective tension.

_____________

A knock sounded at the prince's door, breaking their focus.

Shit, they'd just been getting to the most interesting part. They opened their mouth, preparing to just order whoever it was to leave, when the person spoke.

“Your highness, a letter has arrived from the King of the Nether Kingdom.”

Oh, shit!

“Bring it in!” Purple called out, voice slightly pitched. They'd forgotten about their brother and the mission entirely, too engrossed in reading. Was the King upset that he'd yet to send a letter detailing what he'd done?

The door opened with a click, and the servant scurried in, dropping the letter on the desk and leaving the room.

Purple got up from their bed, making their way over to the desk. They moved to pick up the letter, before pausing.

Did he really want to deal with another one of the King's thinly veiled scoldings, ranting in formal language about how Purple had 'disappointed him' and 'wasn't doing the one job he'd asked' and all that crap? Even though a small part of him felt guilty thinking of his brother in such a negative light, he still felt a little resentful.

They dropped their hand, shaking their head. Nope! Not now. If the King got impatient, they could just blame it on the distance. For now, they would do something else.

'What to do, what to do...'

They could just continue reading... but honestly, they'd lost the mood now.

Maybe a walk would help.

The prince threw open the door, walking straight out and down the hallway, only to bump right into Second.

“Purple, what a surprise to see you here!” He exclaimed, raising an hand to his mouth as if to emphasize his shock. Purple raised a brow, tilting them head to see all four of Second's friends looking at them with varying levels of interest— and not a hint of surprise.

“Really, what a surprise for you to bump into me just a few meters down the hall from the room I reside in,” They drawled. They didn't fail to notice the way Blue frowned, likely because of how they weren't playing along with... whatever this was supposed to be.

”Yes, yes, so shocking!” Second agreed, wow the boy was bad at acting. “But anyways, since we've happened upon each other, would you like to accompany my friends and I to the Imperial Gardens?”

Purple replied without hesitation, “Of course,” because what were they supposed to do, say no to the Imperial Prince who also happened to be their host?

Second nodded, apparently satisfied with his answer, and beckoned to follow him. “This way, then!”

The six of them started off on their walk towards the gardens in silence. Unsure what else to do, Purple decided to observe Second's noble friends ('noble' was a stretch— Baron Rowan was among the lowest of ranks, and Blue and Yellow didn't seem to have any titles at all. Honestly, they seemed less like his friends and more like the prince's band of servants).

Duke Green was, as always, dressed handsomely for the occasion. If someone were to ask Purple, they'd say he was overdressed, but he did not voice this thought out loud. They were probably on bad enough terms already.

Yellow and Blue were whispering to each other, just like they'd been the day before. If Purple strained his ears, he could hear them chuckle every few minutes. The pair were obviously close. He couldn't help but find this odd, considering all he'd heard about Blue was that she and Baron Rowan were very close friends. But again, he supposed people could have multiple best friends.

They reached the gardens relatively quickly, and gods, it was beautiful.

Purple had been to many castles, mansions and palaces before. Never had he seen a garden of such scale— not even his own palace's gardens compared.

The place was like a canvas littered with splotches of color, each bush covered in healthy, vibrant flowers. From lilies to columbines to daffodils, the garden was bursting with radiant hues that made Purple's jaw drop.

“Hey,” Someone called out, and it took Purple a moment to realise that Blue was talking to him. Leaf was stood near a row of brilliant indigo flowers, gesturing for Purple to come over. The prince obliged, stepping carefully as to ensure he didn't crush any plants.

“Blue. Hello.” Purple greeted with as graceful a tone as he could muster. He had a tendency to come off as irritated even when he wasn't, so he had to go the extra length to make sure no one was put off by him.

“Prince Aster, look at these,” Blue said proudly, motioning to the flowers. “These were the first flowers I grew in the Imperial Palace. They're called bluebells.”

Purple blinked in surprise, eyebrows raising a little. He knew they were bluebells, of course—- what surprised him was the first thing Blue had said. “You're one of the royal gardeners?” He questioned.

Blue fiddled with her hands, shaking leafs head. “Not officially, no, but I will be soon! Chosen allowed me to plant some things because I was learning, and also because I'm cool as fuck-" Leaf struck a dramatic pose to emphasize his point, and Purple had to hold back a giggle, "Once I turn 18, I will officially be appointed as one of the royal gardeners."

"That's wonderful,” Purple smiled.

The pair lapsed into silence for a bit. He had to salvage this— he didn't want any of Second's friends to dislike him, or else Second himself might start to avoid him.

Purple fumbled for something to say, “Did you know that certain flowers can have special meanings? Orchids, for example, are used to symbolize elegance, gracefulness and beauty. They remind me of my mother. It's fitting that she was named after them.”

Purple paused, realising Blue had gone completely silent. Had he spoken a little too much, or said something out of line-? Maybe it was condescending to talk to Blue as if they knew more about flowers than leaf, or maybe-

"Do you have any other flowers that remind you of people?" Blue asked, breaking the pause.

…They wanted to hear more? That was a first. Well, Purple wasn't about to turn down the opportunity to discuss something they liked.

Even then, they didn't quite know how to answer the question. He tended to assign flowers to most interesting people that he met, even if he'd only met them once. It was like second nature— Clematis for the viscount he'd met at the reception, Cattails for Kombu who seemed invisible and yet was always nearby, and for his brother…

"Well, I don't think about it particularly much." He responded. "But if you'd like to hear about any specific flower- or person- I wouldn't mind telling you."

"What flower would you associate with Second?" Blue asked, so quickly that it caught Purple off-guard.

"Well, the Imperial Prince…" He was naive, for one. Despite being the crown prince of the Empire, he likely didn't do much other than hold the title. He seemed carefree in a way, unbothered by the expectations of the citizens of the Empire, nobles and commoners alike. When he smiled, it was like the sun itself had emerged to greet you. And no matter how many mistakes Purple made, or how much they offended him and his friends, Second was always willing to help them and give them another chance.

"Crocus. They symbolize youth, and cheerfulness."

Blue nodded, smiling. "What about Green, and Red?"

"Red?" Purple tilted his head.

"Oh, Baron Rowan Redmond— we call her Red for short."

Purple chuckled. "You and your friends really like color nicknames, don't you? You're like a whole rainbow."

"Yep!" Blue agreed, popping the p. "Yellow's full name isn't even close to the word Yellow, honestly. We just chose it so he'd fit in. Their actual name is Beryl Fairman."

"As in, Marquis Beryl Fairman?" Purple blurted out, surprised. So Yellow hadn't just been some servant or low-rank noble, but a Marquis from one of the more well-known families of the Hollowic Empire. How had he not noticed?

"Yes. She doesn't really like all the fanfare, though. She prefers to just tell people her nickname instead." Purple nodded, understanding. From what he'd read up on the House of Fairman, they were well-respected within the Empire, both for their intelligence and their beauty. Many of the heirs and heiresses of the family ended up betrothed to one of the members of the royal family.

Did that mean Yellow and Second were engaged, then?

Purple frowned a little at the idea. He didn't know why, but it left a sour taste in his mouth.

"As for your earlier question, I'd say that Duke Green resembles an Amaryllis. It symbolizes pride. Baron Rowan would be an Iris— humble, and wise."

Blue barked out a laugh. "HA! Wise? Oink's far from wise, I tell ya. She is humble, you got that right, but the only thing she actually knows anything about is animals. She'd take a brawl over a book any day."

"So… more like a Geranium, then," Purple decided. "It means strength, and good friendship, but certain variants can also refer to… a lower intelligence."

"You can just call moo stupid, you know," Blue joked. "What about Yellow? Wait, no, what flower would you assign me?"

"For Yellow, I would say a rosemary." Purple didn't know much about Yellow, so that was mostly a guess. The marquis was likely intelligent too, so a flower to connotate wisdom would do, but that was about as much as he could figure out. "Blue, I'd say you remind me of a Jasmine Flower. Cheerful and amiable."

Blue's face lit up so bright, Purple thought for a moment that he was looking at a star. "Really? Thank you!"

He shook his head, cheeks heating up a little. "It's nothing, really. I'm just saying what I see."

"Well, it's still a compliment, so I'll take it all the same." Blue smiled. "You know, you're really smart, your highness. I've never met someone as knowledgeable about flowers as you."

Purple shrugged lightly. "Most people in high society know about these things. I'm not very special in that regard. We use flowers to send messages all the time. Like bluebells, for example," He touched one of the bluebells next to the pair, "are used to say 'I forgive you'."

Blue suddenly sat straight up, and Purple flinched back a little, surprised by the sudden motion.

"Is something wrong, Blue?"

"No. But watch this," He smiled, plucking off several bluebells and quickly weaving them together— oh, a flower crown! After about a minute, he finished the crown, and held it out to Purple.

Blue giving Purple a flower crown made from bluebells.

"Here! 'I forgive you'. You know, for the thing you said about me and Red at the reception." Purple looked down at the crown, a little dumbstruck, and then laughed softly.

"Thank you, Blue." He said earnestly, taking the flower crown and placing it upon his head.

Blue waved him off. "You're welcome." After a moment of quiet, she added, "You seem very nice, your highness. I'm sure the others would want to be friends with you. I know I definitely do." Blue pointed out.

Purple didn't respond, unsure what to say. Thankfully, Blue seemed to understand his hesitation. "You don't have to be our friend if you don't want to. But a rainbow isn't really complete without purple."

#alan becker #animation vs animator #animation vs minecraft #avm #ava #ava blue #avm blue #ava purple #avm purple #ava sticktober #sticktober #ava fanart #avm fanart #sing a song about life au #ava fanfiction #avm fanfic #ava fanfic #ava ships #avm ships #galaxy duo #cindersnows art #theo inktober 2023 #inktober

[thefanficmonster]

One of the girls

Steve Brodt x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Vegas activities basically lol, Swearing

Genre: FLUFF, College AU (sort of), Exes to Lovers, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: A post-graduation trip to Vegas goes a little awry - and I mean a little in every single direction, causing a whirlwind of chaos.

Angie is hanging off of Y/N's arm with the right amount of exhaustion for someone who just got off a 6 AM flight. A flight they had to catch after the third night in a row of partying as a farewell to their college life. It's rather bold of her to assume Y/N is within her capability and strength to hold her up but she's trying her darndest.

Luckily, the extra weight is lifted off as soon as they get through customs and step out of the airport into the humid air. There, the blonde runs straight into the arms of her boyfriend Aiden who seems much more chipper and prepared to withstand the challenge of balancing her weak form.

Y/N is truthfully ecstatic to see her friend in a happy, healthy relationship. So what if it accentuates how single she herself is? Who cares! Angie is a force of nature, a ray of sunshine. It's impossible not to be uplifted and fulfilled by just her presence and energy. Her happiness charges Y/N. It even partially fills the hole of not having a significant other she too can run to.

"You made it!" Aiden cheers, his smile brighter than this fine Vegas morning. Too bright for the girls' liking. Their hangover anyway.

"Barely." Y/N mutters, pulling on hers and Angie's suitcases - the latter she took to be nice and regretted immediately afterwards. "This one barely dragged her ass out of bed."

Y/N's known Aiden since freshman year in college. He's the perfect opposite to Angie which is what makes their relationship so perfectly balanced. Over time, the two created a bond over their Angie-related antics. They have a certain sibling-like understanding of one another they are both so grateful for.

"Doesn't surprise me. Pretty on-brand for her." He replies, earning himself a light smack to the chest from his offended girlfriend, causing him to laugh.

Y/N feels one of the suitcase handles escaping her grasp, causing her brief panic. Turning to see what's extracting it from her grip turns that panic up several notches when she's met with a face she recognizes.

"Let me help you with those."

Of fucking course he's here

Angie didn't warn her Steve would be here, but she assumed. She had no reason to warn her, she was never filled in on the whole-ass history textbook that resides between him and Y/N. But, knowing his close friendship with Aiden, she had an inkling he'd be here. She just hoped she was wrong.

And, like the cruelest fucking joke ever, of course she had to be right when she least wanted to be.

"No need." Saying anything is futile, considering he's already picked up both the suitcases with ease. Still, it would be nothing like her to not say anything.

"I insist." He replies, also completely unnecessary.

It's become their game these past few years - saying things they don't need to nor mean to say. Saying stuff just for the sake of it - it being pissing the other off. Bystanders like Angie and Aiden would view it as flirting. Steve and Y/N see it as vengeance. A rather ineffective kind though.

"I call shotgun!" The blonde suddenly calls, already getting herself situated in the passenger seat when the two turn to look.

Math is not on their side considering it's Aiden's car, so...

"Can I drive?" Y/N throws out in a desperate attempt which earns her nothing more than a laugh.

She's gotta face the music, and she does so by flipping her best friend off through the passenger window before climbing in the backseat, her arms instantly folding over her chest like a toddler. She's practically pressed up against the car door when Steve climbs in after putting their suitcases in the trunk. He takes up all the free space she's giving him, stretching his joints into a satisfying pop. His right arm stretches over the top of the backrests, his fingers just about touching her hair. She's painfully aware of it but remains silent, not even giving into the urge to stab him with a glare.

Thirty minutes later, they're stuck in air-tight traffic.

The radio is cranked up and Aiden and Angie are fairly deep in conversation so the atmosphere in the car is still light despite the inconvenience. Well, in the front, at least.

In the backseat, the tension could be sliced with a knife.

Passing snide remarks started flying about five minutes ago when the frustration of the situation finally got to its boiling point for the two.

"You're the fucking worst."

"Talking to yourself there, sweetheart?"

"Oh yeah. Just questioning some life decisions."

"Might wanna start back in high school with that deep-dive."

"Nah, mainly how I got talked into being stuck on a weekend trip with the biggest nuisance I've ever met."

She hears him chuckle and is just about to turn and go off at him when his fingers finally make the bold choice of tangling in the strands of her hair. It renders her speechless for a moment, paralysed even.

Shockwaves course her being when, out of the corner of her eye, she can see him leaning down toward her. "Oh come on, it's just a weekend. You can handle it." His hand disentangles from her hair to lightly rest under her chin, turning her head so their eyes can meet, "I know you can."

She wants to slap him. And then herself for the brief millisecond when her gaze flickered down to his lips.

"Thank fuck! We're moving again!" Aiden shouts out of the blue, forcing them apart. Steve quickly withdraws his hand and Y/N hurries to compose herself.

It's gonna be a long fucking weekend

The coziness of the Airbnb is almost enough to make up for it. Three bedrooms, a bathroom, a kitchen and a spacious living room. It's a short drive from the strip so it's mostly isolated from the typical noises of the city.

Peeking in each of the rooms, Y/N finds the bedroom with no bags strewn about and takes up residence. Deciding that the process of unpacking can wait, she dives onto the bed, face buried in the pillows. A short nap till lunch isn't the worst idea she's had today.

If only she could sleep though.

Over the past four years, she's become rather immune to the feelings her interactions with Steve provoke. Sure, they'll bicker and throw elbows but it's all just surface level. Nothing gets under her skin. Or so she claims. But their brief moment back in the car on the way over...she can't deny the effect it had and continues to hold on her.

To say the two have, um, history, puts it mildly.

They met in high school sophomore year and the chemistry was, dare I say, instant. They didn't start dating until late junior year. It pretty soon became clear it was a wrong person, wrong time and wrong place kind of situation. Sure, they were in love in that classic high school sweethearts way and they did bicker like a married couple. But neither of them could see them crossing the bridge into adulthood and college together. Not when they brought out the most ridiculous childish tendencies out of each other.

So breaking up was the first reasonable decision they made in their relationship.

With that in mind, you can probably picture the nasty surprise they were both met with when they were introduced to each other by Aiden and Angie. They were looing at each other and the upcoming four years they'd be forced to spend together with something alike exhausted amusement. They couldn't even be mad. You gotta admit a joke is funny even when it is offensive - and damn was this one very offensive joke from the universe.

They went through with the introduction without batting an eye. Exchanged names, shook hands and silently agreed on holding up this ruse for as long as they could before it would come back to bite them in the ass.

And it sure bit Y/N in the ass when she was forced to witness the quiet and mysterious Steve she knew in high school turn into the biggest manwhore on campus. Every girl she met at college was one of his girls. Even when it wasn't obvious or confirmed, Y/N knew. She started recognizing a type amongst them, a pattern. And she'll admit she's not proud of the bitterness she felt about it all, but she's only human. And so is he. They had the right to change things up for their new college life. That was his choice and although she didn't like it, she had to respect it.

After all, their friends thought they were friends with each other.

Turns out those fights that were the trademark of their relationship extended way past their brief romantic connection. They were disagreements at a fundamental level that still connect them to this day as the earlier incident would confirm.

It's just a couple days, she tells herself, you can push through...

...I know you can.

The sound of his voice in her head startles her, his words ringing in her ears. She's fucking fed up with him. All she hopes for is that after this trip is over she won't ever have to see him again.

God let this weekend end soon

* * * * *

It's been a day and a half. Literally and figuratively.

It's late Sunday night and Y/N's walking the way back to the Airbnb with her heels in hand. She can't remember how she lost nor how she found her purse before leaving but she knows she most definitely lost some of her dignity.

Specifically when, just twenty minutes ago, she almost threw up in her mouth at the sight of Steve tucked away in the corner of the club they were at, making out with a random girl.

It flooded her with rage, jealousy and some confusion to the mix. She witnessed four years of this behavior. She met and was friends with so many of 'his girls' and she was never fazed by it. She gave the matter nothing more than an eye roll, shrugging off his behavior as downright ridiculous and desperate.

But this past day and a half, something has evidently shifted in her and Steve's dynamic.

Given that they were often left to each other's company as a result of Aiden and Angie running off on their own private side quests, they've come to develop a slightly stronger tolerance. for one another. They've had some nice conversations, especially last night's trip down memory lane they had on the porch after their friends passed out drunk.

Neither of them are big drinkers, never were. So she can't even blame what she felt in that moment back there and is still feeling now as she's making her venture on the alcohol. The whole one glass of champagne she had.

Y/N's just about off the strip by this point when she hears a voice call to her.

"Y/N! Wait! Hold on a sec!" She's not at all pleased to see it's Steve.

She doesn't even look over her shoulder at him. She can't, not when she can feel tears prickling her eyes.

Truth is, even if she can't yet admit it to herself, for a second there, she thought something might happen. Second time is the charm, no? Of course not but a fool can hope. And she did have some hope this past thirty hours. She could clearly see how much they've grown since high school. How much better they could be now if they didn't stick to their old argumentative ways.

But alas, back at that damn club, he showed her he clearly doesn't feel the same way.

"Where are you going? You don't even have the keys to the house!" He's now caught up to her, his hand reaching for her arm on instinct. He feels as though he's been burned when she whips around and yanks her arm out of his grasp.

"I'll sit on the porch." She spits venom through her words before turning back around to persist on her way.

Steve doesn't let her though, "Why are you like this? What happened?"

"What's it to you?" She hisses, knowing exactly what him caring is to her. She doesn't let her thoughts travel that way for long.

"Oh for fuck's sake, Y/N, don't pretend you don't know I care about you!" He too is now slowly reaching his limit of patience.

He never wanted this. Any of it. Not the break up, not the ruse, not the whoring around, not this argument. Or any of the ones they've had. Still, he held his head up high and smiled in understanding when she broke up with him. He just nod-and-smiled his way through losing the only girl he'd ever been in love with. And he's been kicking himself for it ever since. For not fighting for her in that moment the way he fought with her throughout their whole relationship.

He's not about to make the same mistake now. Especially not when he's certain he saw a small flame of something reignite between them.

Y/N scoffs, stopping in her tracks to pierce him with a glare, "Yeah, I could sure see and feel all the care you have for me these past four years. And tonight to top it off. You've become very expressive with your feelings. Congrats, Steve, quite the character development."

She's just about to turn around yet again when...

"God damn it, Y/N, I never stopped loving you, ok?!"

...he stops her, freezes her.

He sighs, his shoulders slumping, "That expressive enough for you?"

She can only pick from a set of responses and none of them seem fitting. How does one reply to that? How can she say what she actually wants without fearing it will lead to her getting her all over again. She can't even turn to face him, damn it.

Just then, as some divine intervention, she's rescued from answering by the shrill ring of her phone. She plucks it out of her purse with shaky hands and picks up the call without checking who it's from.

"WE'RE GETTING MARRIED!" It's Angie.

That manages to spin her into facing Steve just so she can give him a look of utter horror. A look he's returning, having heard Angie's extremely loud proclamation from four feet away.

Fuck what deep shit they're in, they have more important matters to tend to.

And tend they do, rushing as fast as possible to the chapel Aiden - who's a slight degree more sober than his girlfriend - pointed them to. A wedding can't commence without the maid of honor and the best man, after all. Or at least they hope that's the case as they dash down the strip. Somewhere along the way their hands linked together but neither of them have time to dwell on it and the symbolism behind it.

Y/N stops briefly to reequip her shoes a block before their destination. Suddenly they're both painfully aware how lacking their attire is for a wedding setting. How lacking this entire situation is of any sort of logic but they both know better than to expect logic from Aiden and Angie in general, let alone when they're inhebriated.

As Y/N stops to readjust her messy hair, she catches Steve's eye. The look he's giving her brings a familiar heat to her face and neck, "What?" She asks, giving him a small shrug.

He chuckles in response, "Nothing. You're just gorgeous."

The heat grows stronger but she waves it off, rolling her eyes at him, "Shut up." With that, she intertwines her fingers with his once more before pulling him down the street to the chapel.

Where they find an interesting sight.

The almost newlyweds are sitting on the stairs outside the chapel. She's nuzzled into him, fast asleep. Aiden is caressing her hair soothingly, rocking her sleeping her form peacefully.

"Did we miss it?" Steve attempts to whisper but they're both so out of breath it sounds like they're barely grasping onto life.

Aiden chuckles lightheartedly, shaking his head, "No, it didn't happen. They said if the bride and groom are too intoxicated to stand on their feet, they're probably too drunk to get married."

"Makes sense." Y/N nods, still panting, resting her hand on her hips and being reminded that her other one is a bit occupied.

Which also brings the almost groom's attention to the linking point, "What is this?" He asks, tilting his head to the side as if to inspect it better.

To his surprise, neither of them makes an attempt to let go. Steve, however, turns to Y/N, "I don't know. What is it, Y/N?"

She shrugs, the sass not at all affected by the lack of airflow to her lungs, "You tell me, Steve."

The cheshire smile he gives her makes her both nervous and excited, "Oh I'll tell you." She hums, nudging him on to continue. The suspense is killing her. Still, she takes the time to take note that the corners of his eyes droop downwards when he smiles, it's a trait she found adorable back then and it still has her swooning today.

Nodding to the grand chapel doors, he finally voices the last bit of his thought, "It may sound crazy but...let's get married. Fuck it. We're both sober. We're both in love."

The deer-in-headlights look she gives him makes him let out a hearty laugh that stirs Angie awake with a groan.

"I never said it back." Her tone is between a realization and accusation both for him and herself. She was too much of a coward to tell him how she felt back in high school and history repeated itself a good ten minutes ago. Another not so proud moment but it's the past now.

Steve gives her hand a reassuring squeeze, "You didn't have to."

* * * * *

Y/N and Steve are sitting on the porch with a bottle of champagne they've been passing between them, watching the dawn creep upon Vegas. The first rays of sunshine are reflecting off the fake cheap ring on her finger. The breaking of the light catches Steve's gaze.

"I'm getting you an actual one as soon as we get back." He says, taking her hand in his to inspect the ring more closely.

She laughs, now looking at the ring too, "Nah, I prefer this one. It's more authentic." She lets herself drift into thought for a moment, letting out a heavy sigh as she does so.

Steve's eyebrows quirk up, "What's that? Some regrets creepin' in?"

His words quickly snap her out of it as she hurries to shake her head in response, "No! Hell no...I'm just thinking..."

"About?" He prods on, still a little nervous that she may be caving under the reservations of what they did a few hours ago.

Y/N taps the ring on her hand, giving him a smirk, "I'm now one of your girls as well. I stomped all over the promise I wouldn't and became one of 'Steve's girls'. And I was fucking sober. I can't believe it." She smiles to herself, thinking back on when she swore on her life to Angie she didn't and would never have a thing for Steve fucking Brodt.

Her best friend is gonna give her so much crap for it and expect a lengthy explanation once she wakes up. She asked no questions when she was bestowed the maid of honor role, but sober Angie is gonna be a different story.

Steve cringes at the wording, familiar with the terminology that spread across campus as a result of his reputation. "No, no way, fuck that. You're not one of the girls. You're the girl. The only girl there's ever been for me."

She smacks his shoulder trying to ignore the flutter of her heart caused by his proclamation, "Quit being corny."

He captures her hand before she can withdraw it, bringing to his lips to press a kiss to her knuckles, "Whatever you say, Mrs. Brodt. Your wish is my command."

Good thing they got the marriage bickering phase out of the way a long while ago. That gives them all the time in the world to be absolute marriage goals.

#haunted nights #steve brodt fanfic #steve brodt imagine #steve brodt x reader #steve brodt #steve brodt fanfiction #dylan stevens imagine #dylan stevens #dylan stevens x reader #dylan stevens fanfic #dylan stevens fanfiction #sam and colby #sam golbach imagine #sam golbach x reader #colby brock imagine #colby brock x reader #colby brock smut

[pancake-breakfast]

I've lost track of what migraine day I'm on, but Trigun Book Club persists and so shall I.

Stream-of-consciousness thoughts for TriMax Vol. 13, Chapters 4-6 below.

Chapter 4: Black

Voiceover Narration: Little did Livio know, but both the hat and the cape provided him with a +10 bonus to strength in addition to the moral boost. Someday, he would open up the stat screen for both and discover this, and then he would weep grateful tears that those who had so little gave him so much.

Oh, Elendira's got her own stat boost outfit, I guess.

I love how much tone she has in her voice. Between her body language and the translation, she's just a very easy character to hear in your head.

Ok, this panel is badass.

Ooh, she actually landed a hit on him. Hasn't done that in a bit.

Why's she sizzling? Is it because she's on fire right now?

(Also, she might be in full badass mode, but goshdarnit, she better not seriously injure my Livio. He's important to me and needs to live!)

Aaaand we're back to Legato's monstrosity.

Dude. He has to save some for fighting Knives, dummy. He's not Gojo utilizing Limitless and being able to just go forever. He's going through his Last Run. There's a hard stop to his power and it's coming up quick.

Hahahahaha, these poor guards. Space ships are, like, history bordering on mythology nowadays. They'd be more mythological if their bones weren't scattered across the planet. Seeing an actual functioning one that came from actual space would be quite something.

That's RIGHT, Luida's the one in charge!

Vance? As in advance? I mean, I know it's an actual name, but it's not a very common one and Nightow really seems to like just making names up, anyway....

Ok, so... Knives has always been a bit OP, but what I'm gathering from the Earth Fleet presentation is that this is a bit ridiculous even by the standards of a culture used to Plants.

Ok, I already have questions about how they know about any particular individual. I'm guessing they gleaned a lot of relevant information out of the remnants of Domina, but yeah.

Goshdarn, of course they were hoping to find Vash....

Dramatic Legato pose!

Man, why'd he get so sweaty all of a sudden? That can't be comfortable.

Awww, Legato's little toy got wrecked. TBH, that looks more like Knives' work than Vash's... but that's only because it's hard to tell the curvature of the cut. Knives tends to do straight cuts while Vash destroys things in orbs.

Ugh, Vash might look badass, but he does not look good. Someone get him a sports drink or something to perk him up. Do Plants love electrolytes in this world?

I wonder who the other two were. Knives and pre-bagworm Legato?

Uh, oh. Guess who's back. You done threatened Livio too much, Elendira.

Chapter 5: Battle of the Mystics

Yeah, Raz doesn't fuck around....

It's weird seeing Raz with short hair. Like, Livio with short hair? Not as cool as if he'd cleaned it up but kept it long, but it was so uneven I get it. Raz with long hair and that undercut? Good for his level of chaos. Short-haired Raz? Just feels too restrained for him.

"Some dumbasses," huh? That's a rude (but perhaps not inaccurate) way to refer to Wolfwood and Vash.

I do appreciate how much more intense and unhinged Raz is compared to Livio. Even Elendira seems a bit taken aback by the mood switch in her opponent.

Oh, that's right. He's used to wielding full-out punishers rather than the double-fangs.

He's gonna burn through ammo so fast using them like that. It's a good thing the guns in this series have ammo in plot amounts.

LOL, Elendira is already sick of Razlo's shit.

Uh. That's a lot of nails. I don't like this. She's being mean to my boy.

Oh, gods. I'm not sure even he can survive this.

OH GOOD IT WASN'T REAL. Dammit, Nightow. Don't scare me like that.

Oof, he's still not in good shape. :/

Chapter 6: Tag-In A Person

I feel like... Livo and Razlo are gonna tag-team this fight somehow....

Mmm, seems like Raz can't deal with Elendira's bloodlust.

Elendira! He needed that leg!

Oof, tiny Wolfwood memory....

The way Elendira says this makes me think she has some experience being on the receiving end of this herself.

Look at him. Pumped full of nails again, but still going. He's a freaking machine.

Ok, I love how Nightow has used the dialog bubble to let us know that Livio is back in control here. It's a small thing, but excellent use of the medium.

I love this conversation between Livio and Razlo. It's Livio making peace with himself, with him recognizing his alter and... sort of validating Razlo's existence, I guess? That Razlo is him and isn't him, and that's ok, and they are part of a tandem structure?

Oooh, are they both fronting? Or... like... Livio's fronting, but Razlo's kinda there, too. I'm not sure how much that works with DID, but it's interesting from a narrative perspective.

Again, wonderful bit of paneling here.

Hahahaha, he didn't even bother to remove the nails. I realize this is a way of telling us that someone is a badass, but... like... having holes in your muscles and/or tendons seriously mucks with your range of motion. If you have a healing factor, get that shit out of the way so it can kick in. Otherwise, you're limiting yourself pretty severely. Like, he shouldn't be able to stretch out to his full wingspan with stuff popping through his back like that. Ok, I'll stop. I know I shouldn't expect realistic anatomical consequences in this series.

Wait, where's Vash? I'm worried about babygirl....

Heheheheh, backwards-firing gun trick shot. Again.

Oh, this is lovely. He's fighting right now with a balance neither side of him generally displays.

Ooh, he got a solid hit on her.

Heheheheheh, mind Razlo still has the mohawk. As he should.

Elendira's got her priorities straight. Kill first, ask questions later.

There's something very satisfying (and maybe very important) about Livio praising Razlo. Not just leaning on him when he's afraid, but honoring Razlo's skill and technique and complimenting him on it. Raz wanted so bad to be needed and to be praised, and now he's getting the praise from probably the person he needed it from the most.

Wait. Wait, is Razlo going somewhere??

What's coming next that's so bad that Raz isn't sure he can keep up with it??

Archive

Trigun Vol. 1: Covers + 1-3, 4, 5-6, 7-8, 9-10 || Vol. 2: Covers + Extras, 1, 2-4, 5-6, 7-8

TriMax Vol. 1: Covers + 1-2, 3-4, 5-6 || Vol. 2: Covers + 1, 2-4, 5, 6-7 || Vol. 3: Covers + 1-3, 4-5, 6-7 || Vol. 4: Covers + 1-2, 3-5, 6-7 || Vol. 5: Covers + 1-2, 3-4, 5-6 || Vol. 6: Covers + 1-2, 3-4, 5-6 || Vol. 7: Covers + 1-2, 3-4, 5-6 || Vol. 8: Covers + 1-2, 3-4, 5 + Bonus || Vol. 9: Covers + 1-2, 3-4, 5-6 || Vol. 10: Covers + 1-3, 4-5, 6-8 || Vol. 11: Covers + 1-2, 3-4, 5-6 || Vol. 12: Covers + 1-3, 4-6, 7-9 || Vol. 13: Covers + 1-3

Extra Credit: Trigun Vol. 1: Nebraska vs. Vash's Motivations, Vash's Loneliness, Vash's Depression (pt. 2 of post), Soupy Brains || Vol. 2: Coin Factoids || TriMax Vol. 1: Lina, Vash, and a Haircut || Meryl, Vash, and the Pursuit of Happiness || Vol. 5: Knives, Vash, and Hatred for Humanity || Vol. 6: Coping Series: Wolfwood, Meryl, Vash || Vol. 8: The Uncoordinated Counterattack || Vol. 9: Justice, Punishment, and Mercy, The Tolling of an Iron Bell || Vol. 10: Crucifixion Symbology (pt. 2 of post), Merging of Families, Being Childlike (And Why God Hates Chapel) || Vol. 11: New Hair, New Outlook

#livio's a good boy and i'm glad he's here #trigunbookclub #trigun maximum #volume 13 #pancake thoughts

[satancopilotsmytardis]

I vote "I really, really want to kiss you right now" with shigadabi!

Prompt: "I really, really want to kiss you right now."

Rolling with the League of Villains is... strange. Strange because he hasn't really been around other people so consistently for the past few years, strange because they're being bankrolled by the biggest fucking supervillain in Japan's history, strange because all of the League members are a bunch of fucking freaks. The lineup is lizard Stain cosplayer, teenage vampire yandere, man with psyche literally held together by a paper bag, magician, woman with over forty attempted murders on her record, and a man who's held together with fucking staples and revenge. Yeah, he's including himself in the list of freaks. He's not delusional. 

And of course, there's also Shigaraki. 

Way grosser in person. That's what he'd said. Had been the fastest thing he could think of when he'd met eyes the color of blood and had gotten distracted from his revenge for the first time in years. Pretty red eyes. The severed hands were gross though. The way that he fucking listened to whatever All For One and Kurogiri said were pretty gross. Maybe he's projecting a little too much of his own baggage, but he never really likes it when anyone looks at a father-figure as an absolute source of authority. And maybe Shigaraki is gross. He's having a hard time remembering that right now. When they've all been drinking in the bar. Started off as just one, just blowing off steam after working on a job for the past few weeks, but it had gotten a little out of control when one of Twice's contradictions landed him in a drinking contest against Magne. She demolished him. Toga had followed up saying that she bet she could take Spinner and Compress. The older had protested, said she was too young to drink like that, she'd thrown a knife at him and he'd sighed heavily and let the other two go. Spinner had faired about as well as Twice had. 

It had been around then that Twice and Spinner came whining to him to save the guys' dignity. He'd told them to fuck off, wasn't about to try to drink someone that much heartier than him, and someone so much younger, under the table. Especially not when he'd only had a couple and they were already well into their cups. Besides, he didn't need to show them how badly his quirk reacted to excessive alcohol. Didn't need them to see that just a few shots could have him swaying in half an hour and the heightened metabolism would have him hung over in another. That he drinks slowly for a reason and drinks for the taste rather than the effects. There's good reason Kurogiri only shares the good stuff with him, Compress, and Shigaraki. 

Who, of course, had been the next target to try and take down the ladies. But Shigaraki had scoffed, told them that he wasn't about to get drunk over something so stupid, especially not with all of them crammed into the small room together. Especially, especially not when they were crammed in together and nearly everyone else was already swaying. Been living together with him, Toga, and Kurogiri for two months now, has only ever seen him wearing his gloves very early in the morning, right when he gets up. Hasn't ever seen him destroy anything he didn't mean to, but still. He'd been a little pleased that their fearless leader had decided that they were all useful enough that he didn't want to risk killing them in a drunken accident. Not that Shigaraki is drunk. Drinks slower than him. Wonders if his meticulous control is why he does it. Means that he has to watch him for a while out of the corner of his eye if he wants to see him take a drink. Likes to see when he tips the last of his cup back and swallow, neck a long pale line, littered with scars and scratches. Pretty too. Really wants to sink his teeth into it. 

Finishes his drink too because he really needs to stop thinking about Shigaraki like that. Likes having a place to act as a temporary home, likes having allies to help clear his path, likes being alive for the most part as he plots his revenge and if Duster catches wind of his stupid little crush then he's going to live up to his nickname. Kurogiri left them all to their own devices a few hours ago. Spinner and Twice are passed out across the armchair and couch. Compress left to go back to whatever haunt he calls home once they'd gone down. Toga and Magne are bored with them and seem to be planning to go out for the remainder of the night. 

"Don't get caught," Shigaraki tells them mildly, but makes no move to stop them. 

"Kay-kay, Tomu." Dabi snorts, Toga is definitely drunk, but Magne still seems fine, should be able to keep an eye on their youngest just fine. They leave and then it's just him and Shigaraki. 

He reaches for the bottle and pours himself another two fingers before offering the bottle to his boss. Shigaraki takes it, pours the same amount into his glass and then stands. "Come on," 

Dabi blinks, definitely a little foggy himself. Knows it'll fade in twenty minutes if he finishes this drink before then. Could wait it out for a few minutes and let his head clear more, but he's not swaying, not slurring, just feels a little distant. Preferred level of intoxicated really, just enough to make the ever-present ache of his scars feel a little far away. Grabs his glass and follows Duster out of the room. 

They make their way up to the roof. The night air is pleasantly cool against his skin and he lets out a breath. Didn't realize the alcohol had crept his temperature so fucking high. But when he exhales, his breath steams in the air. Absolutely not cold enough for that and Duster catches it. 

"You always go so hot when you drink?" 

No. Definitely a combination of being too relaxed having somewhere safe to be, the alcohol, and being around Shigaraki himself. "Depends on what I'm drinking." He says instead. They move over to the ledge and Shigaraki sits with his legs hanging over the edge. Dabi follows him. Wonders how close he's allowed to sit. Wants to sit with their shoulders pressed together. Figures he really, really shouldn't. Fucking. Didn't know bratty supervillains with mops of pale hair were his type. Thinks his type might actually be 'could kill me in a split second' but he doesn't want to think about that too hard. Sits with a foot of space between them. 

It's nice up here. The sky is clear tonight and while they can't see any stars, Kamino is a big city, sparking with night life all around them. The glow of he city reflects off Shigaraki's pale skin, bleaches his hair white, the slash over his eye and lips are stark against his skin, and make him look like a ghost. A demon, maybe, with those red, red eyes. Something ethereal and dangerous. Takes another sip from his glass and watching his lips part for the drink has him going a little hotter. His skin has a strange texture, hasn't ever gotten to touch him, wants to, like his quirk is slowly shattering him too. Wonders if he would feel broken too if he ever got to put his own ruined mouth against his. 

That's a stupid and dangerous line of thought to entertain and he shifts his attention. "Why're we up here, boss?" Hopes he sounds uninterested as he brings his glass back to his lips, forces himself to stop looking. 

"Been staring at me all night, figured you had something you wanted to say. Figured this would be be more private than staying downstairs where one of the others might wake up." 

Shit. That fucking obvious, huh? Really didn't mean to be. Glad he has a second as he takes a drink to try and figure out something to say. It's a fucking travesty that he doesn't. That instead of saying literally anything else, he ends up mumbling, "I really, really want to kiss you right now." Instead of anything intelligible. 

Silence stretches between them for a few seconds. Yeah. Well. He should probably be moving really fucking quickly. Is definitely well within arm's reach. Doesn't move though, because if Shigaraki doesn't dust him he's probably going to just have to set himself on fire and then jump off the roof to escape this. Absolutely never going to live this down when he's not even drunk. Shigaraki sets his glass to the side before he turns to him. Doesn't know what to do now that he has those ruby red eyes on him. Is really expecting to die though. Really isn't expecting for Shigaraki to say,

"Okay,"

And more silence to stretch between them as Dabi's brain short-circuits. He waits. Waits for the other man to laugh, to mock him, to kill him. But Shigaraki is just watching him. Cool. Considering. Doesn't move another inch. Dabi doesn't move either. Feels like this horrible pause is going to keep going on forever. 

"Well?" 

He sounds a little strangled when he finally finds his voice, "You... want me to?" 

"I'm curious and if it doesn't work out," he sounds completely disinterested as he goes on, "It's late and we can pretend we were drunk in the morning." Shigaraki reaches for his glass and takes it out of his hand. Dabi tries to get with the fucking program. Okay. Not going to die probably if he tries this. Duster's even trying to give him an excuse if this goes fucking terribly. Fine. Feels his contrary side rearing up sharply. Won't let it go terribly then. 

His skin is still a little too warm as he reaches out and curls a hand around the back of Shigaraki's neck. The other man lets him pull him in. Does his best to lower his temperature a bit more before he takes a small breath as he's leaning in. Shigaraki's mouth is still so cool against his. He... doesn't push. Thinks that this is probably too chaste given who they are, but he doesn't try to deepen it. It's just a firm press of their lips against each other. Their lips are dry and he can feel the scar running over Duster's, wonders if he can feel the seam running through his bottom lip as well. Only lasts a few seconds because Dabi is pretty sure that if he doesn't stop now, he's never going to want to. Pulls back a little. Has red eyes on his again, still considering. Had a lot of his firsts pretty late, given the fucking burning to death and subsequent coma, but Dabi wasn't as nervous about any of those firsts as he is about how Duster is going to react to this first kiss. 

A startled breath catches in the back of his throat as a deadly hand wraps around his hip, the other mirroring his around the back of his neck. But he isn't killed. Instead Shigaraki is pressing towards him this time. Is the one sealing their mouths together again and he does it much more firmly than Dabi had. Kisses him hard, nips at his lip until his mouth opens on a tiny gasp. Didn't expect this. Didn't expect Duster's hands to be so sure, for his kiss to be so demanding. Doesn't know if he's going to burn or drown when his tongue slips between the seam of his lips. 

Lets his fingers tangle into that mop of pale hair, thick and soft between them, as he opens, as their tongues meet. They both taste like whiskey, but Dabi knows he also tastes like smoke most of the time too. Duster tastes like... cold. Didn't know cold had a taste, but it's there, hidden on his tongue, behind his teeth, and Dabi comes to the horrible realization that he's going to fucking crave it after this. Gonna make it really hard to do his job and pretend this never happened in the morning. 

Wonders if he's going to have to when Shigaraki is pushing him back until Dabi's flat against the cool roof, knee between his legs, Duster's hands still on him, one finger carefully raised on each. When they're still kissing, barely parting for breath before pulling each other back in again. When they're making out on the roof like a couple of teenagers and not two wanted criminals. Shigaraki nips at his lip and even though it's light, it still sends a needle-point of pain along the seam of his lip. The type of hurt that makes all of his skin feel a little too hot and a little too tight as he lets out a breathy sigh against the other man's mouth. The sound seems to spur Shigaraki on, kisses him harder, keeps nipping and biting at his mouth and Dabi gives as good as he gets, until both of their mouths are going to be flushed and bruised. Wonders if he asked, if Shigaraki would let him put bruises on his long pretty neck too. 

Doesn't get a chance to ask when both of their phones start screeching at them. Dabi is very tempted to ignore them, wants to keep Duster's mouth on his, his weight on top of his body, but Shigaraki restrains him with four fingers pressed against his chest as he starts to sit up, pulling his phone out of his pocket. Dabi doesn't bother to find his. It's fucking late and whoever's calling is fucking up what might be his only chance to mess around with his boss. He's not really feeling charitable enough to answer right now. 

"What?" And at least Shig sounds as annoyed as Dabi is feeling. There's a frantic burst of speech from the other end of the line and Dabi recognizes the overlapping voices of Magne and Toga, though he can't really make out what they're saying. "I told you not to get caught. Text Kurogiri, I'm busy." And he hangs up. 

Dabi doesn't know if he should be amused and maybe a little flattered or disturbed that making out with him is higher on Duster's priority list than potentially two of their own getting arrested. "They gonna be okay?" 

"Kurogiri will retrieve them." Shigaraki says, disinterestedly before he's leaning back in. Dabi is expecting a kiss, not expecting him to lean in and murmur against his ear, "I really, really want to fuck you, baby." Can't hide the way the words make a shiver run down his spine even as his temperature creeps a few degrees hotter. Red, red eyes on his and absolutely smoldering with heat. 

"Okay." 

Thanks for submitting! I'm still accepting prompts from this list!

#my writing #shigadabi #mha fanfiction #fanfiction #ask #asks #writing prompt #prompt response