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long-live-astronerd-ghost-king · 1 month

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DPXDC: I wanna be like most girls ghosts.

or Danny: What should I do to make my mom happy?

or ~Danny deserves a little teenage rebellion as a treat~

Maddie: I just want this damned Phantom to stop pretending to be a hero! All ghosts are pure evil, who is he trying to deceive? Danny: Oh, really? And Danny took it personally.

It’s not Danny’s fault that he’s a good kid and wants to make his parents happy. But why would he have to be a monster to make them happy? Why must they hate him to be happy?

Danny’s obsession was going crazy.

Well, when your own parents call you a monster in the face, it hurts. Why do they always believe that only their opinion is the absolute truth? They have no idea how much worse things would be if at least some of the ghosts really behaved the way Maddie and Jack think they’re supposed to. If he really is evil by nature, is there any point in fighting his own fate? They want to see him as a villain, he will become one. He will. He just needs a little help and practice. And not bring it to the level when Clockwork has to clean up his mess. Poor guy is without a vacation for how long? Couple of millennia?

Johnny 13: Sup. Danny: F*ck off, Johnny, I’m not in the mood. Busy thinking about world domination. Get out of here or I’ll call Kitty. Johnny 13: What’s wrong? You’re usually so grouchy only towards the end of the week. Danny: Nothing. Just parents. Again. They are wonderful but I can’t help but feel sometimes that they, em… Johnny 13: Suck? Danny: Right…Damn. I’m a terrible son. Maybe something is wrong with me. Johnny 13: What? No, no, dude. You’re just growing up. And you’re a little late, usually teenagers go through that stage before they graduate. Well, you’ve probably been busy with other issues, so just missed it. Danny: I wonder whose fault it is. Aren’t there ghosts who enjoyed to ruin my life in the middle of school day?

Johnny 13: Oh, bother. Anyway, you’re entering a beautiful time of emancipation, where you’re going to shape your own view of life and, along the way, to get drunk on cheap alcohol at parties, maybe to go to jail and to become the greatest disappointment to your family..And then you will be ashamed to remember it for about the next ten years. Danny: Well, it looks like I’ve already done two out of three additional things. Great success. Johnny 13: When did you get drunk? Danny: I didn’t. Johnny 13: Oh. Want to fix that? Danny: What? No. What an idiot wants to add a headache to his problems? Johnny 13: Well, your loss, then I’ll go terrorize the bars of Gotham alone and no one can stop me. Let’s see what your boyfriend will say about it. ~~~~~ Danny: Bartender, another shot of Dead Man’s Fingers, please. Red Hood: Babe, haven’t you had enough? Danny: Have you ever felt that no matter how hard you try, no matter how many sacrifices you make, in their eyes you’ll always be nothing more than a monster? Nothing more than a mistake? Oh, Death doesn’t give people like me a break. Red Hood: …I’ll have what he’s having. *gives the bartender a sign to switch the rum shots to a batburger milkshake for them, and starts talking to Danny so that he doesn’t understand Hood's scams*

~~~~~

Johnny 13: Other people’s kids are growing up so fast. It seems like yesterday he didn’t know how to shoot ectoblast, and now.. Kitty: Stop trying to make me feel bad, we’re leaving. Johnny 13: But the boy needs our support, honey boo!

~~~~~

Danny: I'm fine. Really, I am. This isn’t the first time mom’s called me a monster. She often called me that when she was upset with my behavior in my childhood. Huh, it's even funny. Jason: There’s nothing funny about that. Danny: No, you don’t understand. Looking back, I was really a very active child and didn’t know when to stop. Not surprisingly that I often annoyed my parents. They’re very busy people, and Jazz couldn’t always keep an eye on me. And I was often afraid to go to sleep alone because there were shadows in the darkness of my room. Well, I used to think they were. But I pretended everything was okay to not distract parents from work. Jason: Hey, it’s not your fault. You were a child. Obviously, kiddo requires a lot of attention, they must have understood that. You are the second child in the family, right? Danny: Well, Jazz was different. I don’t know. Anyway, I thought if the monsters behind the curtain and under the bed were just like me, well, according to my mom, you know, then they wouldn’t want to hurt me. And since they look after me, they are friends. So I kinda greeted all the suspicious noises and howls. Huh, I was a strange kid. Jason: If you smile at someone in the dark alley right now that someone is more likely to wet themselves or faint. Danny: Rude! I’m not that scary. Admit that I’m adorable. Do it right now. Jason: Stunning, darling. But still carry a gun and a knife, please. My childhood taught me that what's hiding in the dark is worth beating up. Danny: Come on, what should I be afraid of? Death? Anyway, I want to try this shit. Like, the inevitable one. Being a bad boy, you know? Hood *raises eyebrows*. Danny: Oh damn it man, I'm talking about ghostliness. I want to try to be like most of dead ones. I want to unleash my side of the trickster and the villain. But only a little bit. I have to be supervised so that things don't go too far. Would you help me, honey?

~~~~~2 hours later~~~~

~~~~~

Goons used to expect a lot of weirdness from working with the boss.

Sometimes Bruce Wayne would go into their base and yell at the Red Hood like he's one of his kids. Of course Wayne's well-known as 'Gotta adopt them all' but the guy must really suffer from insomnia to count the Red Hood into his brood of chicks several times. Sometimes the boss would fight Robin or Nightwing over differences in morals…or for biscuits. It varied from moment to moment. Sometimes the boss caught the local street children, fed them and taught them to steal correctly. And most of the foundlings stayed with them under their protection.

To make a long story short, Red Hood is not the typical crime lord that some of them had to deal with before. Which is a blessing. Thanks Lord for the health insurance. But still the crime lord. Which means he's still scary, and sometimes deadly.

Anyway, when the boss brought in a guy who looked more civilian than any civilian in the whole Gotham and said he was going to be their intern, they thought it was a joke at first. Despite the fact that Hood was not in the habit of joking while working.

The teenager was too well-mannered and sweet to come from Crime Alley. Phil thought the guy was gonna run when he saw the first murder, Jessica didn’t think the domestic boy wouldn’t chicken out at the sight of a fight. But arguing with a boss’s orders in their profession is like asking for a bullet in the head, so these conversations were taking place outside of their boss's sight. God, how can they teach him anything? What do you take from a boy who’s only good to do the coffee run? Fenton will fall if they’ll give him something heavier than 10 pounds. And then boss will yell at them because he treats the new guy like a princess on a pea. Well, at least that’s what they thought until the boss decided to give the new guy his own assignments:

~~~~~

Red Hood: So, what have you learned during your internship, my young Padawan? Danny: Well, it looks like I’m gonna suck at being a criminal mastermind. I think I may have to find myself some other profession. Red Hood: Come on, you just need a little more practice. Danny: Thank you but I don’t think that’s fit my obsession that good. Don't misunderstand me, I wanna be like most ghosts. But I was wrong to go to hit that goal only base on human stereotypes about my nature. Red Hood: What a pity. The newbies just learned not to flinch when you walk in. But, to be honest, I'm not gonna miss the adrenaline-boosting roller coaster of you at work. Danny: Oh, and I guess to hold on to the concept of humanity was really stupid too. I clearly no longer fit in and I’m finally ready to accept that. So, hopefully, if you get into trouble, you can rely on my ghostliness and call for help. I am the spirit of many talents and of my word. I can haunt your enemies or walk through the walls of Arkham Asylum. Whatever you need, I’ll be here. Red Hood: I’ll bear that in mind.

#dpxdc prompt #dpxdc au #dpxdc memes #dpxdc crossover #dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc #dcxdp #dead on main #dead on main ship #alcohol

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thaliagracesgf · 3 months

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i get a boyfriend

part two of the casual series! (requests are in progress, i just churned this out because it is my baby)

warnings: making out and luke being cocky asf

wc: 1.2k

the sun streamed through your eyelids in the morning. you shifted in bed, cozying up in rebellion. you really did not want to get up. you felt luke behind you, starting to move, and you closed your eyes. you knew he wouldn’t be able to wake you up just yet.

his head finds the crook of your neck, and his curls brush against your face. you’ve never felt so safe.

“jesus christ,” you’re rudely disturbed. you keep your eyes shut. maybe beckendorf will leave.

a knot grows in your stomach as luke grumbles from behind you. “fuck off, man. i was sleeping.”

“yeah. i noticed.”

“what are you doing here? this isn’t your cabin,” he said, sleep evident in his low voice.

“yeah, isn’t hers either. so are you two a thing now? you finally hook up last night? what’s the sitch here, because silena needs her update.”

with that, luke pulls himself up. “shut up, man.” he looks down at your ‘sleeping’ face, hoping you didn’t hear. “have some respect.”

you did hear, of course, and at first it did make you feel gross, but the ‘finally’ catches you, and you remember that luke wants you. he isn’t jack, who just wanted to fuck somebody, he’s been waiting, and yeah, the older kids at camp sometimes fuck. it’s relieving to realize that beckendorf doesn’t know about last night— he would never had said that if he did. besides, luke’s attempt at a defense, though hampered by his sleep-addled brain, is adorable.

“i’m just saying! don’t act like you haven’t thought about it. every person in this godforsaken camp can see it, ’cept maybe her.”

“can you seriously fuck off? i’ve got my girl, don’t make it my problem that you’re scared of yours.”

you laugh softly at that one. you don’t open your eyes, but you can feel luke freeze behind you. beckendorf doesn’t notice, but your gig is up anyway.

“your girl?” you mumble, a smile crossing your lips. beckendorf stifles a laugh.

“alright, i’m heading out! good luck with this one, man.” you open your eyes, and even as they’re adjusting to the light in the cabin, you swear you can see him wink. you’re not sure which one of you it’s to.

“die,” luke calls after him, throwing his head back on the pillow, but pulling you into his chest.

“hi.” you say, still facing away from him, and he tucks his head into your neck again.

“hi.” luke says.

you turn yourself over to look at his eyes. they’re such a deep brown. he tilts his head forward. you smile. you let his lips graze yours.

it’s exactly like it was when you were fourteen, and a million times more. he’s soft and gentle, pulling back between each kiss. your arms move around his neck, his wrap around your waist. you’ve never felt so secure in your life.

but you have to pull away. “i— i…” you start.

luke sits up. “i’m sorry,” he says. “i’m so sorry. fuck, that was so stupid of me. i’m so sorry, gods, what was i thinking?” he ran his hand through his hair. it was adorable. you reach out to his arm. (gods, he’s jacked). you wish you had allowed yourself to stare sooner. you’d been depriving yourself.

“it’s okay, luke. it was…it was really nice.” it seems like such a cheap thing to say, and by the look on his face, it wasn’t all that convincing. “i’m not… this is just a lot to process.”

“in what way?” he probes. you aren’t used to people asking questions. usually hannah just stares you down until the words come out of your mouth.

“i mean,” you try to word it in a way that won’t set him off. “it would be kind of shitty to jump into anything, right? after what happened with jack?”

luke gives a contemptuous look at the mention of his name. “no,” he scoffs. he’s still sitting up, looking down at you lying in his bed. you figure it might be a bad time to tell him how badly you want him to kiss you again.

“well, i don’t know. doesn’t it look like i’m just hopping around from guy to guy?”

“ok. first of all, i’m pretty sure there are only, like, four people who know about you and jack. second of all, at the risk of sounding like an absolute dick, aren’t you supposed to be in love with me or something?”

you gasp. “what the hell?”

he grins. “it’s just what i’ve heard. you know what the camp gossip mill is like.”

you groan, hiding your face in your hands. “this is so not fair.”

and he laughs, he really laughs. “how is it not fair?”

“you are such a dick. this is so embarrassing. i’m going to kill you.”

“you seem pretty content under those blankets for someone plotting a murder.” you look through your fingers. his smile is so, so, unbelievably cute. “how is this not fair?”

“because you totally know everything and i don’t know anything.”

“okay. what to you want to know?”

“shut up. die. i hope you drown today.”

“are you really going to make me say it, jack-jack?”

“i hate you.”

“i like you.” you go quiet. “i really, really like you. i think i’ve had a crush on you since we were fourteen. and i fucking love you. not like we already say everyday. like i think i’m actually fucking in love with you.”

he lays down beside you. you’re facing away from him, so he traces swirls on your shoulder.

you turn to face him, and for a second he has the decency to look nervous.

you narrow your eyes at him. “so how do you really know i’m not just in this for the sex?” and he bursts out laughing. and before you know it, you’re laughing with him. and he loves the way your eyelids almost close when you do.

“i wouldn’t blame you if you were,” he grins.

“well, who are you hooking up with these days? i’ll have to see if you have good reviews.”

“good luck with that, it might be difficult.”

“what, like you’ve never hooked up with an aphrodite girl after a bonfire.”

he shakes his head, and you’re honestly stunned. luke castellan, the most gorgeous boy on long island, is a virgin?

“i mean,” he starts. “it’s not like i haven’t had offers.”

“oh, shut up, you asshole,” you try to turn away from him, but he wraps his arms around you, and at his next words you freeze.

“but i was holding out hope that it would be with you.”

fuck. that was really hot.

you look up, into his eyes. “i hate you,” you roll your eyes.

“i love you,” he murmurs, his eyes on your lips.

this time when he kisses you, you’re never letting him go. you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him atop you. it takes everything in you not to roll your hips into his, but you don’t stop yourself from reaching down his torso to find the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head, and running your hands along his stomach. fuck, you think for the second time that morning. he’s jacked. he smiles into the kiss, and you know you’re stroking his ego right alongside his abs.

“so,” you say, biting your lip as his trace your jaw and neck. “what was that about ‘your girl’ earlier?”

you’re expecting a sly remark, a grin, or something. instead, he doesn’t hesitate—“be my girlfriend,” he almost moans. “please.”

and you don’t have it in you to leave him waiting.

“okay,” you whisper.

#pjo x reader #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #charlie bushnell #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #luke castellan x you #luke castellan angst #luke pjo #percy series

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twistedwonderlandyuusworld · 26 days

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Twst Dormleaders + Jamil Accidentally Call MC (Y/N) a Mudblood During an Argument

A/N: This is a Harry Potter AU. I would highly suggest reading the previous: “Twst boys and their Blood Status”, to really grasp the understanding of this concept because if you don’t you may or may not be confused. If you aren’t familiar with the term “Mudblood”, it’s a very offensive word that pure-blood wizards and half blood wizards (ironically enough) use against muggleborns. The meaning is “dirty blood”. Now I know I said in the previous post that most of the boys would never discriminate against blood status, and that’s true but sometimes people can say what they don’t mean, especially when they’re angry. Now I might make a part 2 of this post as redemption headcanons on how they apologize, idk. Now just to clarify MC (y/n) is not dating them but the boys do have a secret crush on them and they’re friends.

Riddle Rosehearts

You two were arguing about how you are apparently getting “lazy” with your school work. But in your defense you weren’t being lazy because you had a lot on your plate, being prefect of Ramshackle and the “beast tamer”.

You two were in the Heartstabyl Lounge area studying because he wanted to help you

You kept picking up your phone every five minutes to answer texts from your friends or professors and Riddle was getting annoyed with you every passing minute.

“Prefect, don’t you know how rude it is to be on your phone when someone is speaking to you?” He says tapping his gloved fingers on the table with an annoyed expression.

“Hm?” You say while scrolling and not making eye contact.

Riddle rolls his eyes. “You’re supposed to be paying attention. I’m helping you for a reason. On your last potions exam you received a 70%. That’s extremely disgraceful for not only just for a regular student, but also a prefect!”

You finally put your phone down and make eye contact with him. “Will you just relax? A 70% isn’t bad. It’s still passing, and besides that topic was so hard to learn. Will you just cut me some slack?”

Riddle sees red when you say a mere 70% “isn’t bad”. He stands up and begins to raise his voice while making eye contact with you. “You can’t be serious Y/n! You’re supposed to be setting an example! Why are you even a prefect if you can’t even have the motivation to work hard and have perseverance! And besides the topic wasn’t even difficult, it’s just you’re not even trying!”

You get angry and stand up to meet his eye level. “Not trying? NOT TRYING? You have no idea what my life is like everyday! To have an idiot headmaster to make you do his job for him, solve problems that aren’t even your fault and stop overblots without dying! Of course you would be inconsiderate of my situation and scold me! Listen just because your mother was hard on you with your academics, doesn’t mean you have to act that way with me!”

Riddle loses it

“YOU’RE RIGHT, I WOULDN’T EXPECT A MUDBLOOD LIKE YOU TO UNDERSTAND THE IMPORTANCE OF SUCCEEDING IN COMPLEX WIZARD ACADEMICS!”

There was a pause

You stare at him for a long time without blinking

Riddle realizes what came out of his mouth, he knows that was he said was extremely below the belt. He clears his throat and averts his eyes.

Then his eyes widen with horror, a sight he was dreaded to see. Your eyes went red and glossy. Tears began to flow from your eyes.

“Y/n I-.” He was cut off by you swiftly packing your things and hastily leaving the room.

Riddle quietly curses himself. How stupid can he be? He made people cry before. But he’d never thought in a million years that he would make the person he secretly loved cry. Especially using….THAT word. He wants to make it up to you. But how?

Leona Kingscholar

You were angry at the fact that Crowley made it YOUR responsibility to make sure that Leona was going to class on time and participate in his studies.

Not only that, but you were angry at the fact that you barely got to spend time with him due to his excessive sleeping schedule. At first, you didn’t mind helping Leona get to class on time or that he likes to sleep. But after a while, it became a chore to “babysit” the lazy lion.

You were on your way to the botanical gardens, Leona’s self claimed napping spot, to tell him he needs to be in class.

You found him

“Leona.” You gently shook him.

He shifts and turns to you with a half open glare.

He lightly growls. “Go away Herbivore. Can’t you see I’m napping?”

You roll your eyes. “Yes I can see that and you shouldn’t be. You are meant to be in class.”

He ignores you

You huff in frustration and gently kick his side. “Up. Now.”

Leona growls loudly this time and sits up.

“Don’t you have any idea of how much this situation affects me? What do you get out of sleeping all the time? I want to spend time with you and you’re not making any effort on your part.” You say while crossing your arms.

Leona rolls his eyes

“Tsk. You’re such a nuisance. Not everything is about you. Now run along and play with the other annoying first year brats.” He turns his head while shooing his hand dismissively.

Your eyes widen.

“Are you kidding me?! Do you know how much pressure I’m in? You are so selfish! You act like you’re the king of everything and don’t even give a damn about things around you! You’re being heartless!

“Just leave, you’re being an annoying mudblood but you don’t seem to be aware of that.”

“W-what?….” You say quietly and shocked staring at him.

“I said leave!” He says shifting back into his previous sleeping position turning away from you.

You look down and tears make their way fast down your cheeks.

“F-fine…I’ll go.” You say trying to sound like you weren’t crying but failed.

You turned on your heel and quickly made your way out of the botanical gardens without looking back.

When you left Leona instantly felt a weight on him….a feeling called guilt. He curses himself and shifts his laying position to him now laying on his back looking up. He couldn’t believe that he just disrespected the one he secretly fancied. He knows he’ll get a scolding from Ruggie later.

Azul Ashengrotto

You and Azul were partnered for a potion project for Professor Crewel’s Alchemy class.

Many students didn’t like working with Azul due to his reputation, however, you were fine with working with him because you seen him from a different angle.

However with intelligence comes with a touch of arrogance.

Azul had a bad habit of being arrogant because of how intelligent he was. And just because you were friends with him, there was no exception.

You both were in one of the labs working on the potion

“Stop. Stop. Stop. You’re adding too much.” He says while blocking the top of the cauldron with his hands.

You look at him annoyed. He’s been doing this for the past 15 minutes. You were confident that you were following the instructions carefully.

“No I’m not.” “Yes you are.” “No.” “Yes.”

That went on for some time.

You were finally fed up

“Why are you so obnoxious, Azul? Why do you think you’re superior to me?” Azul rubs his temple annoyed. “That’s not the case. I’m just simply correcting you of your mistakes. That’s all prefect.” He says through his teeth.

“I barely make mistakes! I’m just as capable as you are when it comes to magic! Hell I’m just as skilled as you are!”

Azul then chuckles lowly.

“Why are you laughing?” You say with a hint of venom in your voice.

“Prefect, let’s not over-exaggerate and make unrealistic claims.” He says arrogantly as he mixes the potion.

“And what exactly are you implying?” He pauses and collects himself before he answers.

“Let’s just say you have a lot of room for improvement. Compared to you I am more gifted and boarder line perfect at my studies.”

You retaliated

“Well I can say the same for you.” He pauses and looks at you. “Oh? Do tell?”

“While you have intelligence you sure lack at physical education. Not exactly what I would call “perfect”. Azul’s eyebrow twitches when you mention the one subject in school he sucks at.

Physical education was a really touchy subject for Azul. He was constantly bullied because he was always in last place. He sucked at it when he was a kid, and he sucked at it now.

You smirk in satisfaction when you see his reaction and you continue to add ingredients to the cauldron.

“At least I’m not a headmaster’s lapdog!” He says in defense.

You stop what you’re doing and turn to him. “At least I’m not a scheming, lying sad excuse of a house warden who can’t let go of the past!”

“AT LEAST I’M NOT A FILTHY MUDBLOOD WHO DOESN’T BELONG HERE!”

You look at him with wide eyes.

Azul immediately realizes his mistake

“Y/n please I-.” He tries to walk over to you but you walk away. He hears faint noises of whimpers and sniffles coming from you. It was clear that you were crying. He sighs angry at himself

“Why did I do that?….now they’ll never love me back….”

Kalim Al Asim

You two were hanging out in the Scarabia dorm lounge. Kalim had tea and snacks laid out and you both were talking for hours.

Kalim wanted to ask you questions about the world you came from

Some were easy to answer but some of them were on the touchy side. Such as “What were your parents like?” Or “Were you happy with your old self before you came here?” Etc.

You were slightly annoyed but didn’t say anything

Then suddenly Kalim asks

“Do you know why the mirror chose you? I mean after all your boarder line just a regular human with the exception of a little bit magical ancestry.”

This question made you set your teacup down. You didn’t know why. So many people asked you this question. You didn’t know why you were randomly taken away from a world you were content in. The more you thought about it, the less special you thought you were.

“I-I don’t know Kalim, can you please not ask me that again?”

Kalim looks at you surprised

“But why? It’s just a simple question.”

“No it’s not, just drop it okay?” You say averting your eyes

“Oh I should’ve known….mudblood’s tend to be really sensitive about their feelings.”

Now it’s to be mentioned that Kalim didn’t know what the word “mudblood” actually meant. All he knew was it was a term used to address muggle-borns. In fact he thought it was a new use of slang because he over heard some other pure-blood wizards use that term in class. He didn’t know that it would offend you.

You freeze and slowly meet his gaze

Kalim looks at you. “What?”

“Don’t you EVER call me that again!” And with that, you get up and angrily march your way out of the lounge passing Jamil on your way out.

Kalim looks at Jamil shocked. “Did I say something wrong?”

Jamil shakes his head disapprovingly while rubbing his temple and mumbles, “Why are you such an idiot?”

Jamil Viper

You wanted Jamil to take a break. That’s all you wanted.

He was over-working himself because he felt obligated to. Even Kalim told him to take a break. But he simply wouldn’t accept it.

He wasn’t answering your texts and even calls, so you made your way to Scarabia

You searched for him everywhere until you caught sight of him making his way to his bedroom.

“Jamil!” I speed walked up to him and he meets your gaze with a tired and bored expression.

He exhales sharply. “What do you want Prefect. I’m quite busy.”

“That’s exactly why I need to talk to you. Why are you making yourself busy all the time? You haven’t been answering your phone.”

He rubs his temple annoyed. “And here I thought you needed something important……if you came here to waste my time, leave. I have no time for nonsense.”

He turns to enter his room but you grab his arm to stop him. “Why are you being like this. I just want to help-“

“Well you aren’t! So stop trying and leave! I don’t know why you would care about a servant like me!”

You were taken aback by his harsh response

“Is this what this is about?! I don’t care about your status!” You say. “I just want to spend time with you that’s all! You don’t have to be at Kalim’s side for every little thing!”

“WHAT WOULD YOU KNOW ABOUT MY SITUATION AND HARD WORK, YOU’RE NOTHING BUT A MUDBLOOD!”

Pause

You let go of his arm and take a few steps back

“Wait hold on I-.” Jamil tries to say, but you left teary eyed.

Jamil curses under his breath and goes into his room. His sits down on his bed and reflects on what just happened while putting his hands through his hair.

“Now they’ll definitely choose Kalim over me now…”

Vil Schoenheit

“Honestly Prefect, do you always leave looking like this?”

Vil has been scolding you for the past ten minutes because of the state of your messy attire.

You were rolling your eyes because of how dramatic he was being. After all, it was just your tie being undone and there were just a few strands of hair out of place.

“Stop being over-dramatic, Vil. It’s not a big deal.”

His eyes widen in disbelief. “It is VERY much a big deal. If you’re going to be a Prefect, you need to look your best. Your academics not only reflect your dorm and school but also how well kept you keep yourself!”

He begins to fix your hair and tie but you were being uncooperative and moved a lot.

“Stop moving!” “Get your hands off me!��

He stops and looks at you. “So you would rather look like a filthy potato and have me just leave you like this?”

“I want you stop acting like you’re my mother!” You say defensively.

“Well if you dressed yourself properly, I wouldn’t have to!” He retaliates.

“Do you take pride in being a stuck up person?!” You yell back.

“And do YOU take pride in being an unfashionable mudblood?” He says calmly while glaring down at you.

You look at him shocked with wide eyes

His glare softens and he clears his throat realizing his rude mistake.

“Prefect….listen…” Before he could finish you take off.

Rook , who was listening to the whole conversation, of course, seen you leaving and went up to Vil.

“That was a very unbeautiful thing to say, Roi de Poison. You have to apologize.”

Vil exhales sharply, “I know….i just wanted to help…I just wanted to show them how beautiful they are. But they won’t let me…”

Rook sighs, “By calling them the forbidden word?”

Vil’s gaze is down

“At this rate….they’ll never give me a chance…I have to make it up to them.”

Idia Shroud

You wanted him to leave his room. It was a very unhealthy life style in your opinion.

You guys always spent time in his room all because he didn’t want to leave due to his anti-social lifestyle.

Well this time, you wanted to change things a bit

You went to Ignihyde dorm, and you made your way to his room. You knocked on the door and he answered it.

“H-Hey Prefect.”

“Why don’t we hang out outside today. It’s a great cloudy day out.”

He pauses before he answers

“W-why?”

“Well, it’s different and you could get out more- “No.” He cuts you off.

“No? But why?”

He rolls his eyes. “In case you hadn’t noticed Prefect, I don’t do well with….outside.”

You cross your arms. “Well it wouldn’t hurt to try. Come on.” You take his arm and lead him outside despite his protests.

You both make your way outside of the dorm and go into the main court yard of the school.

“See? Isn’t this better?” You say with a smile.

He shakes his head slowly while looking at the ground.

You both go sit down on a bench and begin talking.

“Hey Prefect!” You look up and see Ace and Deuce. “Hey!” You smile and wave them over.

Idia rolls his eyes in annoyance. He hated interacting with other people, not only that, he was annoyed at the fact that Ace and Deuce always was interrupting your guys’s hang out time. Whether if it was showing up in person or texting. He was always jealous of them. Couldn’t they go one day without talking to you?

“So whatcha guys doing?” Asked Ace.

“Well we are just sitting here and talking.” You replied with a smile. “May we join you?” Deuce asked.

“Sur- “No.” Idia interrupts you. You look at him confused. “Huh?” Ace says. Deuce speaks up. “So is that a yes or- “It’s a no.” Idia says passive aggressively.

Ace and Deuce look at you confused. “Well…okay…see you later y/n.” Ace says awkwardly and leaves with Deuce. After they leave, you turn to Idia and glare.

“What the hell was that? Why did you do that?”

“Why do YOU feel the need to be at their aid every moment of every day?” He replies hostile.

“What’s your problem? Are you still mad at the fact that I made you come outside?” “No….its not that!” “Then what is it?! You’re being extremely weird.” “And you’re being an inconsiderate mudblood!”

“No YOU’RE the one who’s-….wait…what?”

He pauses and averts his eye realizing what he said. “Um…”

Your blood boils as you stand up. “Fine, you can go back to your room. I’m sorry that a mudblood like me wasted your time.” You hastily leaves the area.

“Wait hold on-.” He was left with his own thoughts. “……Ortho is not gonna like this.” He says quietly to himself.

Malleus Draconia

Malleus wanted to spend time with you so badly. However, your rigorous schedule wouldn’t allow it.

He would always try to make plans with you, like getting ice cream together, going on nightly walks, or even studying; but you always politely declined

The more times you canceled, the more annoyed and angry Malleus got.

Well he had enough and decided to confront you late at night. He got Silver to tell you to meet him at the court yard.

Once you got there, you were met with a very angry dragon fae.

“Oh Tsunotaro, did you need something?”

“I’m not liking the fact that you’re being so casual about this, Child of Man.”

You look at him confused, you genuinely didn’t know what he was talking about, you were completely oblivious towards his words.

“Have I done something wrong?”

He exhales so sharply in frustration that you could’ve sworn you seen smoke coming out of him. You know that he’s extremely upset.

“You always decline my plans with you. And yet you have the audacity to be so naive about it. Not to mention, I see you around those first years, you claim that you’re “busy” but you’re spending time with them….” He glares at you with his arms crossed. Then it finally hit you, was he jealous?

“Tsunotaro, listen-.”

“No, I believe that it is YOU who will listen, Child of Man. I go out of my way to make some time with you and this is how you repay me?”

You get defensive. “YOU have to make time??? I have to make time for so much! You have no idea what my life is like! I’m sorry that you’re so clingy to understand, but I have a life too. And besides I wouldn’t exactly call my time with Ace and Deuce “hanging out”, I would call it “babysitting”, because that’s exactly what I do everyday! Babysit! So I’m sorry if you’re so clingy and needy to the point where you can’t understand that I can’t babysit and entertain you too!”

He takes great offense to your words. Is that really what you see him as? A somebody to entertain for a while and drop them whenever you felt like it?

He glares at you. “Perhaps Sebek was correct….all of you mudbloods are the same.” He says lowly enough for you to hear him.

Your glare disappears and you stare at him in shock. “W-what?…”

He averts his eyes in shame when he sees your reaction. The idea sounded better in his head than out loud. He just wanted to hurt your feelings so that you could feel what he felt when you ditched him all those times….he was so tired of being alone.

“F-fine then….” You say teary eyed. “I should‘ve known a pure-blood wizard like you wouldn’t be caught dead with the likes of me.”

“Child of man….wait-.” You ran off back to your own dorm. Leaving him there.

He gazes down at the ground. “What have I done…..they’ll never love me….”

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lucilleslore · 6 months

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sometimes when i think about crack with coryo and reader, i have a little fun with reader being someone who is a very powerful person and genuinely has control over snow with just 'tiny' ways like: decorating the house, clothes, food, anything so trivial. it starts out tiny, small, personal things but the influence gets bigger to the point that politics has to get dragged in.

somebody please humble this man, even though this is a bit ooc, i just need this man to lower a bit in my imagination.

yeah 1000% i’ve been saying this from the beginning and it will forever be my favourite concept!

whilst i don’t think coryo would actively want you to have any control over him, there’s not much he can do about it once the DEEP obsession kicks in. making people happy has never been his priority but then he has you and suddenly he needs you to be happy. needs to spoil you and give you everything you could want but it’s more from a place of thinking that if you’re happy you’d never even consider leaving him. which i think is a fear of his because he’d never let you leave of course but he’d never even want the thought to cross your mind. would feel like a massive betrayal to him.

so that kind of follows into you getting a little control here and there. if you slip something into conversation that you don’t like he’s automatically getting rid of it. problems with staff? they’re gone. don’t like the food? someone will make you something else. want to change the decor? go ahead. not feeling any of your clothes? here’s access to his bank accounts.

it’s definitely slow because politics and his overall plans for power would be things he strictly doesn’t want you involved in. sure he’s not got any morals but you’d still be his safe place and he feels like that should be protected. his time with you is kept separate from his work life but maybe one night he comes home extra stressed and you’re just there, offering him drinks and rubbing his shoulders and his problems all just sort of fall out.

now coryo isn’t expecting much. you’re his wife and have no experience in the ways of politics so he just expects you to listen but all of a sudden you’re coming out with these brilliant solutions, things he would never have thought up in his life. maybe it’s not the conventional way to do things - and by that he means his way - but he has to admit your ideas could work.

but that’s how it starts and after that when he’s really stumped he comes to you. talks it out and sees what you come up with. he always gets this grin on his face that’s honestly kind of menacing because you’re boosting his ego. like how did he instinctively pick a wife that’s not only beautiful but so, so scarily smart?? he must be a genius.

but when you’re talking about humbling i can honestly see the both of you at some fancy dinner and they’re all fawning over coryo, about everything he’s done for the capitol and the world and how amazing he is and you’re just sat there like?? those were all my ideas?? not his?? so then you’re all over him and asking him just how did he come up with these plans and coryo is just kind of fumbling for once and you’re just sitting there enjoying your wine and smirking <3

or you could go full girlboss and call him out in front of all the old loser politicians!

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #- nonnies!

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suffersinfandom · 6 months

Text

Controversial opinion (?): the Kraken Era wasn’t all that dark.

There’s a whole lot of meta and fic out there that portray early season two Ed as a bloodthirsty, hyperviolent monster, and when that portrayal is challenged, the rebuttal is usually along the lines of, “I’m just doing what canon did. Did you even watch the show?”

I did watch the show, and honestly? I expected Ed to be so much worse than he was! When I see people say they didn’t think Ed did enough to redeem himself or that he went past the point of no return, I just… don’t understand.

I already went into this in my way-too-long meta about Ed and abuse, but I do think it bears repeating (in a shorter post) because it seems like Ed’s actions -- more than the actions of any other character -- are scrutinized and discussed outside of the context of, y’know… a comedy about pirates. There’s tons of casual violence in Our Flag Means Death. Sometimes the violence is even funny!

So what does Ed actually do?

As far as I can remember (I’ve only seen season two a few of times, so correct me if I’ve missed something!), we see Ed directly harm someone twice in the first two episodes: first on the wedding boat, and then when he shoots Izzy in the leg. Kind of unimpressive numbers, yeah? Tbh, I'd expect more out of a heartbroken Blackbeard.

The first instance involves Ed shooting a man during a raid. That man has a sword through his chest before Ed fires, leading me to believe that Ed’s still following his season one pattern of keeping himself a step removed from murder (technically, the sword killed that guy). We also don’t see the murder happen; the man tumbles offscreen before Ed shoots. This makes the action less brutal. If the writers wanted us to be appalled by Ed’s violence, we would’ve gotten a graphic kill (or several).

And the second instance is Izzy. Ed shoots Izzy in the leg after he suggests that the shitty atmosphere is because of Ed’s feelings for Stede. Hot take, maybe, but I don’t think that was entirely out of line -- definitely not for a pirate captain whose first mate is acting out! Ed’s feelings for Stede are not the only problem; a significant chunk of the problem is Izzy. Izzy called in the navy and led to their capture and, more importantly, Izzy bullied Ed back into the Blackbeard persona. This is what Izzy said he wanted.

We’re also told that Ed has taken more of Izzy’s toes between seasons. This isn’t cool -- bosses definitely shouldn’t be asking for their employees’ toes -- but there is a precedent for it: in season one, Ed told Stede that he used to feed people their toes for a laugh (yuck). For a laugh. This, to me, implies that it’s not a huge deal. It’s certainly not completely unexpected pirate behavior, and it seems more lenient than, like, a keelhauling or a whipping. I think both of those things would've felt way more gruesome and dark.

As far as violent actions go, that’s not a lot. Like, numerically.

Things get darker in S2E2 when Ed becomes increasingly desperate for someone, anyone, to send him to doggy heaven. He’s unhinged and working his way up to a murder-suicide before he’s stopped, but he doesn’t lay a hand on anyone. He orders Archie and Jim to fight to the death. He ignores anonymous crewmembers as they’re swept overboard in the storm. This is bad! It’s self-destructive and selfish! But violent? Monstrous? I don’t really think so.

In my opinion, the worst thing Ed does is force his crew to do violence for him -- not because it’s violence (again, they’re pirates), but because the violence hurts them. THIS is what traumatizes them! Their trauma flashbacks are scenes of them hurting others, not of Ed hurting them directly. Ed didn’t physically torture his crew (with the exception of Izzy, and that’s complicated). His crime was driving them to do one violent raid after another, killing and plundering without any joy or theatrics. Ed feels trapped in the role of Blackbeard -- the role that he’s been desperate to escape -- and, in his heartbreak, he opts to trap his crew with him.

Yeah, Ed is messed up in the first two episodes of season two. I don’t blame the crew for almost killing him; it’s what needed to be done. I think that Jim, Archie, Frenchie, and Fang had every right to want Ed gone after Stede’s return.

But I don’t think that Ed was a super violent monster who tortured his crew and murdered his way through his breakup. He engages in very little onscreen violence, and the person that most of his violence is focused on -- Izzy -- is the same person who told him to be violent. I think that anyone who says that Ed’s actions in the first part of season two are extremely dark is either looking at them out of context, misremembering what actually happened and just recalling the dark tone, or working with some kind of motive.

In conclusion: Ed is a man who, at his very darkest, was still operating pretty firmly within the bounds of "stuff pirates do" (but not stuff Ed has historically done, presumably).

Also look at him. Thank you.

GIF by unearthlydust

#ofmd #ofmd meta #edward teach #me typing things #idk i just keep seeing this thing?#this 'ed is irredeemable to me personally' thing #and that's fine?#hate characters if you want to?#but i don't think the kraken is all that evil #i mean i guess ed disagrees #hence the guilt and agreeing to humiliation and apologies #my poor mentally ill blorbo

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temis-de-leon · 21 days

Text

Shy gn!reader confesses to the Demon Brothers

Characters: Mammon, Levi, Satan, Asmo and Beel (x reader, separately)

Main Masterlist

Dateables version

Anon request: Could I request headcanons for Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, and Beelzebub, react to shy gn crush confessing to him nervously?

A/N: life became hard for 4 full days and writer's block hit me with the power of a thousand suns. Then I went to therapy and I immediately started writing. Here it is, folks, 1899 words.

Mammon

There’s no doubt that Mammon loves to have fun. Either counting money at casinos or wildly drinking and dancing at various clubs, the sight of him with the occasional fling by his side is not a strange one for the demon folk.

He doesn’t look for it; it’s not like he needs to, anyway. After all, who wouldn’t like to be with The Great Mammon? He’s a catch!

But no, it isn’t something he needs to feel good. His heart beats for one thing and one thing only: money. Gold sparkling on his fingers and coins filling his pockets, what else is there to live for?

His brothers would never understand him. When Beel empties the kitchen it’s cute, but when he steals Levi’s figurines, Asmo’s jewellery and Lucifer’s wallet suddenly it’s a problem.

And what’s his punishment? Taking care of a dumb, weak, boring human.

You better leave him alone, MC! He’s a very important demon and he has very important things to do! Don’t you listen to what his brothers say about him! Listen only to him!

Also, pay him attention and ignore the others! He’s so much better, you know? Can’t you see by now? He wishes you did and he isn’t sure how he feels about it.

The pang in his chest, his reddened cheeks and his avoidant gaze aren’t things he’s used to, but they become the norm once he spends more time with you.

Enduring his brothers’ jokes and taunts is humiliating and he perfectly knows he would act the same if he wasn’t the one involved, but damn MC, why do you have to be the way you are? Why are you so easy to fall in love with?

You have to feel the same, right? With your stammering and your bashfulness, you have to feel the same.

Mammon thanks his Father when you invite him to your room out of the blue and blurt out your feelings. The situation is ridiculous, he’s sweating buckets and your hands won’t stop shaking.

He tries to confess back without directly saying he loves you.

Key word ‘tries’.

Leviathan

Love is not for him, or rather, he’s not made for love.

That’s just who he is. A shut-in who finds companionship in fiction, in the idealization of friendship, romance and loyalty. His expectations are set way to high, near long opening titles and uninterrupted rambles, and he doesn’t expect people to reach them. Is he even worth the effort?

He has internet friends who he met through online gaming and forums and he cherishes them very much, but it makes him feel lonely and insecure sometimes. What type of life do they have when they’re not gaming or role playing or just talking on video calls with him? Do they act like plain old normies, taking their partners out on dates or having lunch with their classmates after class?

He prefers not to think about it.

Your arrival to the Devildom doesn’t change his life at all. He’s curious, sure, but what are the chances of you sharing his interests? Also, you quickly become friends with Mammon, which says enough about yourself.

At least, that’s what he thinks at the beginning. Time passes, as well as the TSL quiz, and he immediately realizes that you’re not who he thought you were.

There’s no judgement in your eyes whenever he rants about the latest piece of media he has consumed, instead filled with curiosity and fascination; and not only you’re the sole person in the house that doesn’t make fun of him, but you also defend him against his brothers.

His romantic feelings for you grow strong and fast, but your friendship is what’s most important for him.

You’re so, so much better than what he initially thought, even when you remind him of himself sometimes.

The glint in your bashful gaze, the doubt in your words in search of the right ones and the everlasting fidgeting with your fingers. You are the perfect romantic interest from the perfect otome game and he can’t believe how lucky he is to be the main character.

When you finally confess to him under the comfort of the blue lights of his aquarium, you’re barely able to finish your sentences while looking at him, which in reality is a blessing, because he can’t bring himself to look at you either when he confesses back.

It’s awkward, but sweet. Kind of like him.

Satan

Romance is for him what a painting is to the viewer. A novel to the reader.

He understands the significance, the words, the colours. What the creator wants to portray and what the consumer interprets. Narrative rules, the significance of flowers, metaphors, history… All of that mixed with the abstract of the mind.

He understands.

He just doesn’t feel it. Not at its full potential, at least.

There had been partners in his life, years ago, and he knows he’d loved them, but he wasn’t in love with them. Whatever line kept him from going forward with his feelings is what made him stop trying alone.

Books and cats and the Anti Lucifer League are enough for him to be occupied. They also make him happy, so his views on romantic love are easily set aside.

He doesn’t think much of you at the beginning, mainly because he doesn’t expect you to last very long, but you quickly show an amount of potential he’s ready to exploit.

Diavolo dreams of unifying the three realms and Lucifer would do anything to not spoil those plans, so what better way to annoy his brother than through you?

It’s selfish and reckless and of course his eagerness screws the whole thing up, but it ultimately helps him realize he shouldn’t have underestimated you.

You are kind, brave and smart. You see him beyond his wrath and his academic knowledge, remembering him even in the smallest of details that surround you. It was such care and affection that made his feelings grow.

For the first time in his very long life he starts to relate to the characters in his books, his heartbeat increasing when the scenarios feel too familiar or when the dialogues replicate exactly what he yearns to say to you.

It’s thanks to his novels that he recognizes your feelings. The shy and endearing romantic interest quietly approaching the main lead, confession learnt by memory.

His first reaction is to be surprised. He doesn’t expect something like this to happen to him, let alone you being the one to reciprocate his feelings. How much luckier could he be?

Asmodeus

What better love exists than the one he feels for himself? He’s beautiful, charming, adorable, addictive and every other compliment in the book. He can’t get enough of them!

He’s obsessed with the idea of being surrounded by people, by their affections and their devotions, touching him, looking at him, singing him praises. Unfortunately for everyone else, his narcissistic tendencies only grow when those that fall under his charm feed into his “delusions”.

That’s how Mammon calls it, at least.

At the time of receiving, he doesn’t distinguish between romantic love and sexual attraction, although it’s more difficult for him to reciprocate the first one.

Deep down, hidden amongst his insecurities, Asmo believes no one would love him for his truest self. That’s why he insists on looking perfect at all times, following a strict sleep schedule and a well-balanced diet, going out to remain in everyone’s minds; always a trending topic, a sensation.

If his outstanding physique and impeccable personality aren’t enough for you to know he’s the best amongst his brothers, then his charm would do the work.

But it doesn’t.

When he purposefully makes eye contact there’s no sign of you falling for his magic and, suddenly, he finds himself at a loss of words.

He doesn’t panic too much, given that he is still a beautiful and powerful demon that could devour you in a second, but knowing that there’s no barrier between the two of you to protect his vulnerability gives him an unpleasant feeling of exposure.

Surprisingly enough, it’s also your resistance to his powers what centers his attention on you. You’re one of the very few people that knows him as he is, even with the ugly parts, and it doesn’t take too long for his affections to become obvious and somewhat desperate.

Asmo is elated when your behaviour around him changes. He recognizes the pattern, since he’s seen it many times in his fans, and he can’t believe that someone who’s seen him at his worst still considers him as beautiful as those who have only seen what he wanted to show.

Although you don’t really need to confess, due to him immediately wanting to be with you, hearing your feelings spoken out loud sends his heart into a frenzy rhythm.

The attention fuels his ego, sure, but it’s the veracity of your words what makes him want to cry out of happiness.

Beelzebub

He’s not really interested in relationships. There is a fling here or there, sure, he still has other type of urges, but he hardly thinks about it.

The feeling of emptiness follows him around like a metal ball and chain and the only consumption that can give him relief, even if temporarily, comes only in the form of food.

He’s often seen as emotionless or famished and, although he knows he’s popular amongst many students, his height and muscles make him look too intimidating to engage further than necessary.

It isn’t something that bothers him at all. His love goes straight to his family and there’s nothing food can’t fix.

However, when he is told Belphie is the demon chosen for the student exchange program, the hole inside of him grows deeper and deeper. His urges go on a rampage and Lucifer has to give him a pep talk to drill into his brain how important it is that you are to remain uneaten.

It’s not like he’s very interested in you anyways, so leaving you alone doesn’t feel like a draining task.

Of course that changes when you physically put yourself between him and Lucifer. A stupid, idiotic, reckless decision that serves to prove how brave you are.

Your friendship quickly blossoms after that and, unlike many other people, you start seeing him beyond his hunger. That makes him cherish you even further, but it’s your dedication to helping his family what sparks a romantic interest in you.

Since he’s not that experienced in that regard, it feels a little intimidating, but you make it seem easy and effortless. The both of you are equally shy in your affections and there’s a mutual unsaid understanding that helps you build the base of a relationship, so the confession isn’t really necessary.

Still, hearing you say the words makes his heart flutter.

His response is short and blunt, but sweet in nature. He is blushing the whole time, not breaking eye contact with you, and for the first time in many years, he feels completely satisfied.

Tagged: @darkflowerav

#obey me #obey me! shall we date?#om! shall we date #om! swd #obey me mammon #obey me mammon x reader #obey me leviathan #obey me levi x reader #obey me satan #obey me satan x reader #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmo x reader #obey me beelzebub #obey me beel x reader #obey me x reader #obey me x gn!reader #obey me fluff #obey me headcanons #obey me requests

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sp0o0kylights · 1 year

Text

Steve And Robin Are Stuck in A Timeloop AU

Steve's lost track of which time loop this is.

Had lost track pretty much instantly, because it turns out when people die repeatedly in front of you, it kinda takes precedence in your memory.

Besides, Robin has a list in her head, memorized via some kind of musical code, alongside all the dates and times they wake up in.

(Steve doesn't see what difference it makes if they wake up at 7:15 am the day of the Championship or 8:25 am, but Robin's insistent that even the slightest variations could mean something.)

He’ll have to ask his soulmate when he finds her though, because presently Steve has determined they're having one of their weirder loops.

Typically, when the two of them get kicked back in time, they wake up the day of the Championship game. Occasionally it will be the day right before or the day after, but sometimes?

Sometimes they’re sent back someplace, some time, that isn’t related to 1986 at all.

Thus far, the Starcourt loop had been the worst.

("If it happens a third time I'm killing myself." Steve had told Robin after they’d failed that one.

Robin didn’t even look at him, the two of them huddled up together in Steve’s bed. "No you're not Dingus, not without shooting me first."

"How come I have to shoot you!? Is it because I'm a man? That's not very feminist of you."

"No its because you've seen me shoot, I would miss!")

Steve had even woken up in an odd place. Not his bed or the couch, but the driver's seat of the Beamer, seated in the high school parking lot.

It made him immediately uneasy.

The chair is reclined all the way back, the mass of cars indicating it was a school day. Steve struggled to recall when he's ever taken a nap in his car as he got out of it, trying to decide how he wanted to go about things.

Felt his pocket and was surprised to find it full of a packet of smokes.

The sheer implication of that had him pulling out a cig and lighting it before the knowledge that he'd officially quit buying his own cigarettes in 1985 sank in.

Panicked and chainsmokes three, before deciding his best course of action was his usual one.

Find Robin.

Which of course means that he found Eddie instead.

xxx

He’d started his first lap, walking out if the parking lot and round to the more shaded, empty parts of the building when a voice he knew yelled.

The kind of yell he’d grown intimately familiar with, the one Eddie used when he was terrified and using anger to hide it.

Steve turns automatically, following the taunts and loud, pained breathing until he finds a handful of jocks encircling the metalhead. He's down on one knee, snarling like a wildcat caught in a trap while some guy Steve barely recognizes holds him by the hair, laughing.

Red coats his vision instantly, and any thoughts Steve had about being stuck in time (sort of) vanish from his mind entirely.

The world shrinks down, to that white knuckled grip on Eddie's hair, the way it’s pulling the older boy’s face up so that Steve can see the straining muscles in his throat.

The protective creature that lives in his chest and likes to punch it’s way out of problems awakens, and a thrum goes through Steve as he feels its demand for blood.

"Hey fellas " Steve calls joyfully, striding directly into the crowd. "What’re we doing?"

Two part before him like fish seeing a shark,and a faraway inner voice identifies them as members of the swim team.

Which likely meant the other two were football players, and for all the tackling they did they were surprisingly easy to scare, if you knew how to play it right.

Steve absolutely knew how to play it right.

"Fuck off Harrington. This isn't your business." The one holding Eddie's hair spits.

"Well that would be where you're wrong." Steve was still keeping things conversational as he positioned himself, arms nice and loose at his sides. He lets the thing that lives inside him, who made him turn right back around all those years ago and charge back into the Byers house, out a little more. Feels the need to protect, to save, to destroy the things that are his, fuel him. "Seeing as all of Eddie's business is my business."

Eddie stares up at him, wide eyed at the declaration.

Feeling entirely out of control of his body, Steve sends him a wink.

"Since when!?" The other football player asks.

"Since now." Steve declares cheerfully--and then smiles.

It isn’t a nice smile.

Thoroughly unnerved, his swim team members shrink back. He’ll have words for them later if he has time--Steve can't ever recall the swim team members being dicks but who fucking knows.

His memory wasn't the best before he and Robin got stuck in time.

"You fucking into drugs now or wha--" Their ringleader, still holding onto Eddie by the hair, doesn't get to finish his sentence.

Mostly because his mouth is too busy catching Steve's fist.

Fighting, he knows, is something he does best when it's too the death and he's armed with something.

Bonus points if his opponent is a horrific monster from another dimension.

He has gotten better though, and here the rapid pace he sets feels almost too easy.

The first guy goes down on the ground before the rest pick up on it, giving Eddie time to lurch backwards as Steve turns and torpedoes into the next jock.

This one gets in a good shot--Steve staggers with a blow to his side but it's not enough to wind him. He keeps to his feet and advances, delivering one more punch before the swim team guys are trying to call him off.

"Come on man, you're gonna kill them!"

Steve almost laughs-- he hasn't come close to killing either idiot-- but backs away, keeping himself between them and Eddie.

They wave their hands, getting ahold of their bloodied friends as they slowly ease between them and Steve. Make apologizes and promises that it was a poor joke, Munson just got to them, hot heads you know?

Steve snarls at them to fuck off, and glares until they're gone.

"What the hell just happened?" Eddie asks him, and Steve turns to find him on his feet, leaning heavily against the brick wall of the school.

As far as he can get away from Steve.

"Our football quarterback can't hit for shit." Steve informs him, having finally placed an least one of the guys. "It's probably why we always lose."

Eddie gives him such a freaked out face it almost makes him laugh a second time.

The effect isn't helped by the fact that Eddie's normally long mane is hovering just over his shoulders, the curls somehow poofier than normal. Clearly he’s still trying to grow it out, but it just makes him look like one of those frazzled dogs.

Adorable.

On instinct Steve reaches out to playfully pull a few strands, then freezes when Eddie flinches from him.

"Sorry." He keeps his hands up, as he takes in Munson's face. "Shit dude, he got your nose good."

There's blood smeared under it, and given the look of the skin surrounding it?

Eddie's gonna have an impressive bruise soon enough.

Steve gets a glare sent his way. "Why do you care?" Eddie spits, back very much still up, and-- right.

Right.

Time travel.

"I'm really bad at explaining it." Steve warns, running a hand through his hair. He did this part plenty without Robin (meeting Eddie that was--Robs usually tackled Nancy.) But he also typically did in it 1986, and with at least three of the kids, not whenever they currently were.

"We usually start with facts only you'd know, but I don't actually know when I am right now." He finishes, and realizes immediately that it doesn’t make a lick of sense.

"When you are?" Eddie asks, because of course he clocks that part immediately.

"Ye--eah." Steve says, dragging out the word.

He looks at Eddie desperately, like the metalhead will tell him the exact information he needs.

Eddie just stares back.

"Look, it sounds really stupid when you say it out loud." Steve says finally, because fuck, it does!

"Comparable to all the other times you talk out loud?" Eddie snips, voice full of venom.

"Shut up.” Steve replies automatically, but his tone holds no heat. He’s too used to trading banter with Eddie that is friendly. “I'm gonna preface this by saying I can prove it."

"Oh wow preface. Such a big word for you! Did Nancy Wheeler teach you that one?"

"Robin actually." Then, "Nancy?"

The look Eddie gives him could melt steel beams. "Yeah man. Nancy Wheeler. Your girlfriend."

"Oh--oh god." Steve says, because that means they're way back. Possibly to the beginning.

Or worse, before he and Nancy had broken up.

"I can’t handle that breakup a second time." He says wide eyed, the panic gripping him for a second. “I could-no, no I could get Robin to tell her!”

Because that sure would work.

Steve can just imagine it now. Robin, sauntering up to Nancy and going ‘Hey, we really haven’t met yet but you’re gonna dump Steve, if you haven’t already and to cut through all the drama, I’m here to just tell you on his behalf that it’s over. What was that? A coward? Why yes, he is one!’

You know, provided she didn’t just laugh in his face and then cuff him over the head when she realized he was being serious.

“Dude.” Eddie says, sinking a world’s worth of judgment into the single syllable.

“Yeah, you’re right, bad call.” Steve says, and whatever Eddie was expecting it clearly wasn’t that.

“Are you on drugs right now?” Eddie finally asks when Steve reverts back to looking to him as if he’s going to help. A bad habit, and one Steve knows he needs to stop doing.

Even if Eddie, in the original timeline and every one after they got him on board, eventually becomes someone Steve can rely on like that.

“You can tell me if you are, man, you know I won’t judge.” The hateful air around him is fading into something more confused, and then into something else entirely. The persona Eddie pulls when he’s hurt and trying to hide it with jokes and rants. “Unless you and your buddies bought from someone that wasn’t me, in which case I get exclusive rights to judge.”

He’s shifting as he finally stands up off the wall, and Steve doesn’t miss how he hugs one hand to a rib.

Shit.

He needs to get Eddie up to speed and he needs to do it fast.

Steve sighs and just starts listing Eddie Munson Facts like an unprepared kid who was called on in class.

"Okay, so your uncle collects mugs, right? And--fuck I don't know when you get all the tattoos,” Steve makes a vague gesture around his chest, “but you have bats on your arm and you gave them all names."

Eddie's eyes pop wide again, jaw slacking as Steve volleys off a few more Munson Facts.

"You have this weird fear about red ribbon necklaces because of a book you read in third grade, your first guitar has this giant ugly--sorry dude, but you cannot write legibly to save your life, 'This machine slays dragons' quote across it and--oh!"

He was so fucking stupid. The answer was literally staring at him in the face, dangling around Eddie's neck.

Steve snapped his fingers excitedly. "The guitar pick on your neck is your moms!"

Eddie’s mouth open and closes like a fish, long enough that the smile slowly slides off of Steve’s face.

"How the fuck do you know all that?" He manages after a long, tortuous moment, looking like he’d been sucker punched.

Again.

With the most pained look his face can manage, Steve finally answers. "Time travel."

Eddie blinks.

Then blinks again.

"Time travel." He echoes faintly.

"Yeah. I'm from 1986, where things kinda got really fucked up."

"No kidding?" Eddie says, right before he erupts into giggles.

"Did they get you in the head?" Steve asks, abruptly concerned, as Eddie collapses back against the wall in a growing fit of laughter.

Concussed Eddie was not a road he wanted to go down but Steve knew better than anyone what happens if you ignore such things.

"I think my weed just hit." Eddie explains as he wipes away a tear, and Steve wants to shake him, but knows it won't get him anywhere.

"That's great. That's just great." He grumbles, hands going onto his hips. "Come on."

"Where are we going?"

"To get you a bandage. And then find Robin.”

Robin, Steve decided, could handle a high, concussed Eddie.

#I do write more than pre steddie #but some days it doesnt feel like it #not even gonna lie this not-fic was just an excuse to write six million meet cutes #steddie #pre steddie #time loop au #stranger things #Eddie Munson #steve harrington #drug mention #hurt/comfort #sorta

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yaksha-lover · 4 months

Note

Hey! How are you doing? I don’t know how dark you’re willing to go, but the angst brainrot is back and I guess I just need somewhere to ramble.

Sometimes I like to think about how the prefect’s super chill reactions to… well everything, could just be a carefully crafted facade. I mean, the students at NRC are kinda awful people, and I don’t doubt any weakness would be swarmed like vultures to a fresh corpse. And a magicless, naive person like Yuu would be an extremely easy target. So, instead they just bury all the pain and pretend everything is okay. They’re not crying for their family and home late into the night.

The way that kind of repression would just build up over the year and slowly cause resentment towards everyone, deserved or not, is just delicious. Pretending to be everyone’s friend, to be the kind and welcoming prefect while coming to hate the other students’ guts. The eventual snap after one misplaced comment or one more mess to deal with, when the house of cards all falls down.

Maybe Rollo was right.

Idk, just got a lot of thoughts. Mainly based off of how Rook calls the prefect “Trickster” and the prologue almost framed Yuu in a strategist role. Thoughts?

Honestly, it would make a lot of sense. As much as we love the boys, most of them would be pretty terrible to be around and are very selfish and/or mean (with some exceptions, but that’s still a good majority of the school).

I like the idea that Yuu does start out genuinely wanting to help everyone and find people to be friends with, to try and make this experience of being trapped in another world even somewhat bearable.

At first it’s okay that Ace is a jerk sometimes, because he comes around once you get to know him. It’s fine that Riddle nitpicks and punishes the three of you because in the end, he’s trying his best to get better, to heal from his past. It’s alright that Leona is unrepentant and mean, because he has things he’s been dealing with, and you need to be understanding of his pain. Even when Azul tricks your friends and later you, when you almost lose your Ramshackle, the one place you’ve had to call home, you try to have patience, because he’s got his own issues as well, he has his reasons for things.

But somewhere along the way, you’ve stopped caring for their excuses. Their trauma is real, but so is yours. Even after everything you’ve done to try and help them, you don’t doubt for a moment that none of them would run to your rescue. That they wouldn’t take any opportunity to step on and over you if it meant getting closer to their goals. Because at the end of the day, none of them cared, no matter how much you wanted to believe it wasn’t true.

Breaking down isn’t an option - not when everyone is out for themselves, when your feelings would surely only be ridiculed at best and taken advantage of at worst. Even more than that, you’re a guest at this school. You never earned your way here like the other students and you’re magicless; the only reason you’re even here are extenuating circumstances. The headmage isn’t any more loyal than the housewardens - if any of them had a problem with you, it wouldn’t be a stretch to imagine he’d throw you out onto the street the second you became an inconvenience that was too much work to handle. So you keep quiet, even when all you want is to tell off everyone around you.

The only housewarden to ever seem to really give a damn about you is Vil, but by the time you get close with him, it’s already too late. Maybe if you met him first, if you’d been less scorned, you could’ve forgiven his little digs at your lacklustre presence and imperfection. He’d done much to try and make up for it after all, helping you out with Ramshackle and voicing his appreciation for you. It was more than you could say for anyone else, but it still isn’t enough. Vil’s sweetness can’t counteract the bitter taste that’s been brewing for months, so you can’t bring yourself to forgive him despite everything.

It’s not his fault, but it’s never anyone’s fault. It’s all of them, chipping away at your sanity little by little.

It’s okay that you can never fall asleep anymore, kept awake by memories of never ending fights and catastrophes to deal with. It’s okay that the same people you’ve helped barely regard you as more than something worth pitying. It’s okay that you’re reminded every day that no effort is being put towards getting you away from this hellhole and back home.

It’s all okay, until it’s not. Until Yuu finally reaches their breaking point, and starts to question if anyone is truly worth saving at this school.

#twst x reader #twst yuu #twst #twisted wonderland

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swordsandholly · 9 days

Text

Keep it Casual

NSFW | MDNI

John ‘Soap’ MacTavish x fem.plus size.Reader

cw: injury mention, death mention (in passing - no character death), brief weed smoking

Word count: 3.7k

One-shot/Drabble

Boy loves girl, girl loves boy. They’re not allowed to admit it, though. It’s good, right? All the benefits without any of the commitments. It’s what they both want, right?

Johnny MacTavish is an enigma to you in many ways. You’ve known each other for years - ever since you came over to the UK for Uni. He was in basic training then, out drinking when he approached you. His buddies were brutish and rude, only looking to add a soft American to their list of conquests, but Johnny… he spoke to you differently. Looked into your eyes, listened intently, gave you his full attention and nothing less.

You’ve been thick as thieves ever since. Beyond that, even. You and Johnny are entirely indivisble. Even when he’s gone for weeks, months, at a time, you’re inheretnly interlinked. Whether by phone calls or the matching tattoos you got on your ankles one drunken night, you’re connected.

There aren’t any labels for it. When people ask you default to best friends, but that doesn’t quite encapsulate it. There isn’t a word in the English language for what you have. You’re not partners - you’ve both had plenty of those each, however briefly. Even those always end. You and Johnny can’t be torn apart, though.

You know what the problem is. The reason you both keep it this vague, amorphous thing between you. Labels are frightening. Labels make things real. Labels mean you have to tell other people what you are, that suddenly there are expectations to live up to.

Labels feel like a death sentence in his line of work. Too many lost husbands, partners, lovers.

You lay on your belly in bed, legs kicked up in the air as you engross yourself in a book when the door knob clicks to the side. Johnny has a key to your place, of course, just as you have one to his. You don’t bother to get up. The chain always hangs loose when he’s gone - knowing he’ll come around at any moment. The door would stay wide open if it could, just for him.

You hear a thunk as as he drops his duffle on the ground. He didn’t go home yet, just came straight here. His boots fall on the floor next, then his jacket drops quietly in the hallway as he slowly makes his way to your room - to you.

“Bonnie lass…” Johnny greets, crawling across the bed toward you. He managed to get down to just his standard issue t-shirt and boxer briefs before climbing in. He knows you hate outside clothes on the bed.

“Johnny.” You smile, rolling onto your back as he climbs over you. Your fingers card through his mohawk, tugging gently on the strands curling at the base of his neck. “Need a trim there, bud.”

“Aye.” He chuckles. “Was waitin’ tae see ye. No one does it as good as my girl.”

His girl. Your boy. That’s the closest either of you ever get to tempting fate.

You hum. “How was work?”

Work. That word doesn’t even come close to what Johnny does. You can’t say more - can’t utter the word deployment. Coward.

“Ach no’ tha’ bad this time. Go’ my heid knocked around a bit.”

“So the usual?”

“Oi.” He scoffs in mock offense. “Donnae be rude.”

“I’m never rude.” You snicker, turning over and reaching for the top dresser of your nightstand. “Do you want to roll or me?”

“I think I’ve earned some princess treatment.” Johnny flops back on the bed, a finger hooking in the hem of your cotton panties as you sit up. He always does this when he first gets back - has to have some part of him touching some part of you. Not that you’d ever complain. You need it just as much as him, though you’d die before admitting to it.

Those blue eyes bore into you as you roll. It’s tradition - a celebratory joint when he gets back. Then you’ll binge all the TV shows and movies you saved up while he was gone and order an ungodly amount of take out. Indian. His favorite. Sometimes Johnny will go back to his apartment the next day to get some quiet time, maybe visit his parents, before he has to go back to work on the base but other times he’ll stay with you his whole time back home. Just taking up your space and being so domestic it makes your teeth hurt like too-sweet candy.

You always hope he stays.

“First hit for the guest of honor?” You smile, holding the joint out for him.

“Och, yer a blessing, hen.” His hand is warm as it brushes yours when he takes the joint from you, eyes locked on your own. There’s something intense in his stare that you aren’t used to. It makes you look away, almost shy under his gaze. He coughs suddenly, a harsh burst of smoke puffing from his lips.

You can’t help but laugh at him, “Getting weak lungs, soldier boy?”

“Oh, feck off.” He elbows you gently.

Somehow you’ve already got the giggles. It’s just something about being around him that makes everything feel better - brighter. More lively. Even the colors of your ugly little ashtray (the one you painted terribly when Johnny’s niece insisted the three of you go paint pottery while babysitting) feel so much more clear with him near.

“Oh!” His brows shoot up suddenly, as if he just remembered something direly important. “I got somethin’ fer ye. Be right back.”

You watch him jog down the hall - definietly not staring at his butt, no ma’am - and listen to the sounds of Johnny rooting around through his duffle bag. Your lips quirk up into a smile when he lets out a distant “aha!”

He comes back with a small, velvety box, flopping back into bed beside you and criss-crossing his legs. “There was this little artisan shop in a town we stopped through. The Captain wanted tae get his wife somethin’ an’ I saw this an’ thought of ye.”

The box slips into your hands. It’s small and light. You roll it between your palms a couple times before shaking it with a grin. Before you can make one of your usual silly quips about what might be inside, your eyes meet Johnny’s. They’re on fire, sparkling with anticipation for you to open the little gift. He’s gotten you things before (you actually have a shelf dedicated to his nicknacks from around the world) but this seems… different. There’s a heaviness to his expression that you’re not used to.

You glance between him and the box briefly - opening it slowly. Your eyes turn to saucers as you come face to face with a finely crafted silver necklace. A little four pointed star with a sparkling gem in the middle that looks the same icy blue as Johnny’s eyes. Little flecks of pink and green catch the light as you turn it between your fingers.

“Johnny-“ You gasp, at a total loss for words.

“Ye like it?” He asks with an uncharacteristically nervous pitch to his voice. His palms rub together absently as he glances between you and the necklace in your hand.

“I love it.” You smile softly, heart fluttering as Johnny breaks out in a grin of his own. “Put it on me?”

“Course.” He whispers, pushing your hair to the side and locking the clasp with deft fingers. It hangs perfectly underneath your clavicles, resting between the other jewelry you wear daily.

Those hands linger for a moment, before both slowly brush down over your shoulders. Rough, calloused fingers glide across your skin and leave an electric current in their wake as light kisses trail up your neck. “Missed ye, bonnie.”

You sigh and lean back against his broad chest. “Missed you too.”

Teeth sink into the crook of your neck, pulling a gasp from your lips. Large, rough hands grab and knead your tits through your thin tank top. He plucks at your nipples - rolling them between his fingers as he sucks deep marks into your neck.

You open your mouth to complain about leaving visible hickies but all that comes out is a breathy moan. You run your hands up his thighs on either side of you, dragging your nails across his skin in the way that always leaves him panting.

One hand travels down, grabbing onto the softness of your belly appreciatively before continuing. His fingers glide over your covered pussy, teasing you to gasp and squirm under him. Rough fingers continue to pluck at your nipple, eventually pushing their way under your tank top for better access. A low hiss escapes Johnny’s lips as your breasts fall free of the camisole.

“Fuck, bonnie. Can I taste ye? Please? Need ye so bad.” Johnny groans in your ear. “Please.”

How could you ever say no to him? He doesn’t even have to ask, really.

He repositions you on your back, tucking a pillow under your hips. Ever the considerate type. His fingers hook in your panties, a low, pleased rumble echoing through his chest as he shucks off the soaked fabric.

No matter what he’s doing, Johnny’s eyes always find yours. He could be across the most crowded room in the world and, imminently, they’ll find yours. They crinkle at the sides with his smile that pulls the scar on his chin.

“So pretty fer me.” He murmurs, lowering himself between your thighs as he bites and kisses up the soft flesh between your legs.

Johnny is a lot of things, and a total much is easily near the top of the list. Maybe number one, even. He presses his face into your cunt - mouthing over your clit and dragging his tongue down between your lips. It’s almost more for him, you think, the way he drags his tongue through the crease between your thigh and pussy. You can’t complain - you would be a fool to with the way he absolutely worships your body.

A harsh suck to your clit as your back arching. Strong arms wrap around your thick thighs to hold you down as he devours you.

“Taste so good, lass. Sweet as fuckin’ candy.” He moans against your cunt.

“Johnny!” You gasp, hand tangling in his overgrown mohawk. A low moan pulls out of you as he licks from your back hole to your clit before stuffing his tongue as deep in your pussy as he can. Chants of obscenities and pleading and oh, god, Johnny please you’re so good fall from your lips.

You know better than to try to hide your sounds. If he could he’d devour them just as much as he already does you - inject them straight in his veins to live there forever. Two fingers push into you, the stretch causing you to gasp. Johnny chuckles as you buck into the touch. The fingers curl directly up into that spot inside you as he nips at your clit.

Your climax hits you like a train - stars blooming behind your eyes and your back arching sharply. You’re always so sensitive after he’s been gone. So ready to have him again.

“Thassit, tha’s my good girl.” Johnny kisses up your thigh, working you through your orgasm with his fingers. “Ready fer me, baby? Missed this pretty cunt so bad - thought about her every day.”

You nod excitedly - mind too fuzzy and content to come up with the words to respond. Lazily, Johnny reaches over to the nightstand to grab a condom. He knows your home, like you, inside and out. Every nook and cranny might as well be his.

It could be his.

It should be his.

Johnny cups your cheek, kissing you slow and deep. His tongue parting your lips gently before exploring every inch of your mouth. Those rough hands trail down your body with reverence. One going from your cheek, to your sternum, over your belly to sink into the softness of your waist. The other holds tight on your hip as he lines up.

You gasp and moan against each other as he pushes in. The stretch is delicious. Your nails sink into his strong back.

“Practically made fer me, bonnie.” He groans as he moves. It’s slow, languid.

He’s so beautiful. Always has been. No matter how he changes - new hair, new scars, new tattoos - he’s still beautiful. The prettiest man you’ve ever met. You run your fingers through the downey layer of dark hair over his chest - tracing the outlines of his muscles, up over his thick shoulders to cup his cheek.

Your bodies move together easily - a well practiced dance that you’ve perfected over the years.

“Christ.” Johnny gasps into your ear - strong forearms bracket your head, burying you under him. “I lov-“

You turn your head, catching his lips in a kiss. It’s terrible of you, you’re sure, but there’s nothing those words can communicate that a well timed gasp or a perfectly placed caress can’t say better. His nose knocks against yours, your hands travel all over him, seeking out any purchase they can find.

It turns desperate. A clawing need as you rediscover each other for the millionth time. Wet, open mouth kisses against each others skin and bodies moving perfectly in tandem. The light high from smoking leaves your skin warm and buzzing with electricity. It borders on overstimulating - just barely this side of too much.

“Johnny…” You whine, tilting your head back.

“Aye?” He pants, laving at your clavicle. “Gonnae cum f’me? Cream all over my fuckin’ cock?”

All you can manage is a keen, teeth sinking into his shoulder to hide you face form him. A hand tangles in your hair, pulling you down to stare up at him.

“Eyes on me, hen. Want - ah - want ye lookin’ at me when I make ye cum.”

It’s too intense. It always is looking into those baby blues. As if they can see right through to the most buried parts of yourself. Johnny shifts your hips up ever so slightly, the new angle bullying his head against your g-spot with each thrust. Your nails claw across his shoulder blades.

It doesn’t take long before you’re careening over the edge with him, bodies tensing against each other. Clenching down around him like a vice while you gasp for air.

“There she is. Tha’s my girl.” Johnny murmurs against your lips, still rocking into you in short, sloppy motions. Just to drag it out a little longer until you whine at the overstimulation.

You let yourself lay back to catch your breath, floating back to earth while Johnny disappears to toss the condom in the trash. He’s back nearly as fast as he left, pulling you against his chest and burying you both under the soft sheets of your bed.

“Shower?” Johnny whispers into your hair, eventually. You nod against his chest, slowly peeling yourselves apart. Your fingers remain tangled all the way to the bathroom.

He whirls you after you turn on the shower, kissing you slow and deep as you wait for the water to warm up. A warm hand splash across your lower back - keeping you close. You’re left breathless when he finally pulls back, pupils blown so wide in the low evening light that you can hardly see the blue of his eyes.

You sigh to yourself as you step into the shower, grateful that you splurged on the apartment with the especially large bathroom. It definitely wasn’t with Johnny in mind. You’d never make your decisions based around such a nebulous relationship.

Not the size of your bathroom - enough to fit both your wide frame and his broad shoulders.

Not the location of your apartment - only a few blocks from his.

Not keeping his favorite snacks stocked at all times just in case he comes home early.

Not referring to your apartment as his home.

“Lean down a bit.” You smile, pouring a glob of shampoo into your hand for him. Johnny’s always been picky about his hair care. You always make sure it’s on hand in your bathroom.

He does the same for you, of course, when he can, but somehow you both always end up at your place instead. Not that you’d ever complain. You like your place. It’s safe. Warm. A cocoon away from all the parts of the world that have scarred you so deeply.

Johnny groans happily as you scratch his scalp, the quality shampoo cleaning far more deeply than any of that standard issue stuff he gets on deployment ever could. You watch the suds slowly drip down over the lines of his back, breath catching as your eyes settle on a nasty, raised patch of skin you hadn’t seen before.

It looks like a chunk got ripped out of his back, right under his ribs.

“Johnny.” You gasp.

“Hm?” He looks over his shoulder at you, brows raising as he realizes what you’re looking at. “Oh tha’? It’s nothin’. Just go’ a bit knocked around, remember?”

You bite your lip, tamping down the rising fear in your gut. “D-does it hurt?”

“I’m fine, lovie.” Johnny turns, giving you that sparkling, million dollar grin. He knows it scares you, shakes you to the core.

You’ve already lost everyone else in your life, having the ever present threat of losing Johnny as well is too much to handle sometimes. It keeps you up at night, when he’s away, imagining all the worst that could happen to him.

How easy it would be for a simple bullet or knife to shatter your world.

That’s why the two of you keep up this little arrangement. This song and dance at arms length. To spare you. Both of you. Either when he doesn’t come back or you break and run.

You won’t run, though. As much as it hurts, the good is too good to give up. You’ll stay through it all, with just enough distance to keep your sanity.

“Ye with me?” Johnny asks gently, slowly pulling you out of your thoughts and back into the moment.

“Yeah. Yeah, sorry. Long week.” You lie, leaning up on your tip toes to plant a small kiss in the corner of his mouth.

He hums, turning to meet your lips. You let yourself fall into him, fingers running through the hair on his chest, up to the back of his neck. He just feels right under your hands. Perfectly molded to press up against you - hard muscle to balance out the softness of your body. Angles and curves. Push and pull. Sun and moon.

Holy hell, you’ve become a sap.

“Sit.” You point to the chair you drug into the bathroom and Johnny happily plops down - big, fluffy towels tied around your chest and waist respectively. A content smile settles across his face as you slowly work your way across his scalp with the electric razor. You let your fingers to scrape along after you just the way he likes.

When you were young, you watched your mother cut your fathers hair. It seemed so subservient to you. Shameful, almost. You said you’d die before doing that for any man.

You carefully raise each section of his mo-hawk, cutting it down to the exact length Johnny likes to style it. A little on the short side, actually, so that it has time to grow before looking messy. Shearing the sides and taking extra care around his ears. He doesn’t need any more nicks or scars.

Johnny suddenly looks pensive as he watches you in the mirror - carefully taking in each of your movements.

“You’re worrying.” You murmur.

“I-“ He sighs. “It’s nothin’.”

“Johnny.” You level your gaze on his in the mirror, he looks off to the side.

“I’m just- I cannae-“ He sighs. “I miss ye.”

You snort. “I’m right here.”

Johnny shrugs. For once, he stops talking. You hate when he does. It’s the only true hallmark that something is wrong.

“Johnny-“

“Do ye want tae hear a new Ghost joke?” He interrupts. It’s an out. You’ll let him have it.

“Lay it on me.”

“Whit’s the difference between the bird flu and the swine flue?”

“What?”

“One requires tweetment an’ the other requires oinkment.”

A huffy laugh escapes you despite yourself. “That’s terrible.”

“Aye. Imagine listenin’ tae that in a life or death situation. Could be the last thing I hear!”

You giggle, finishing up with shaping the edges of his hairline. “How is it?”

Johnny stands, leaning close to the mirror and running a hand over his hair. Your eyes lock onto that newly forming scar again. It makes your throat feel tight.

He stretches his arms way over his head with a groan. “Think it’s time f’some proper lazin’ about.”

The rest of the night goes by as they usually do when he gets home. Indian take out, a romcom in the background, another round of fucking. Or two. It’s near eleven when you finally settle into the sheets, Johnny long asleep beside you. Comfortably snoring with that angelic peacefulness you only ever see in his sleep.

Will he look that peaceful if he dies?

The thought makes you want to throw up.

It takes all your mental fortitude to push that train of thought away. Opting to lay beside him, eyes flicking across his features as you attempt to memorize them all. The curve of his strong brow, the arch of his nose, the slight part in his lips as he sleeps. Your thumb traces the scar on his chin while you cup his cheek. As if sensing your current state - and, if you’re honest with yourself, you’re sure he can - a strong arm wraps around you to lock you against his chest. You let your legs tangle, breathing him in and following the pattern of the rise and fall of his chest. Real and tangible under your hands.

You’re just so glad that, at least right now, he’s home.

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cozage · 1 year

Note

Thinking about what if Trafalgar Law had an s/o that is secretly rich. Like...

They don't flaunt it but they aren't exactly hiding it either. How would law react?

Would he be neutral? Would he be confused...? Like...? What?

Characters: GN! reader x Law

Cw: some fighting/arguments, cute fluff other than that :)

Total word count: 700

Quite literally nothing goes unnoticed with Law, so I imagine he figures out you’ve got money pretty quickly. However, he’s not sure how much you have or how you’re getting it, and he won’t confront you until something big happens.

It starts out with little things. On port days you always come back with an extra special dessert or something fancy to share with the whole crew. Law can calculate how much it costs to buy something that nice for a crew of 20 people. He doesn’t think anything of it at first, but after the third time at port, he’s suspicious of your finances. But again, he’s not asking.

A crew mate mentions that they want something they see while they’re on an island but don’t have enough berries. Every now and then when you hear someone talk about something they really want, you’ll buy it for them and place it on their bed while they’re out.

You never say anything about it or let them know it was you who bought it, but every time someone shows up to dinner showing off something they wanted, Law notices how your eyes are full of joy, while everyone else’s are full of amazement and shock. The crew thinks it’s their captain who’s giving the gifts, and he thoroughly denies it, but he never throws you under the bus.

And then the ship needs a repair. A BIG one. And you’re stuck at port until you can get it fixed. Law gets the estimate for repair at 100,000 berries. You can see he’s stressed about it, trying to figure out where to cut corners to afford such a big (but necessary) repair. His stress is bleeding into all other aspects of his life, including your relationship.

So you walk into his office one day, and just set the money gently on the table, and walk away. He’s staring at the money, shocked that you could have so much on hand.

“Y/N-ya?” he calls to you before you exit the room. “Where on earth did you get this?”

“It’s better not to ask questions,” you smirk back at him and leave. You’d rather not tell him that you were rich, it’s not like it really mattered anyway.

Later, when the two of you are alone in his room, he brings it back up again. “Seriously, though” he purrs to you, kissing the crook of your neck in between words. “Where are you getting all this money?”

You laugh and push him away gently, teasing him. “What, you think I’m a secret Marine spy or something?”

His eyebrow raised in suspicion, playing along with your joke. “Wouldn't be unheard of, you know.”

You kiss the tip of his nose, finally giving in. “It’s just some money I had from my past life, Captain. Nothing more to it.”

That’s enough of an answer for him. Law isn’t one to pry, and he trusts you completely.

He continues to let you do small gestures for your crewmates anonymously. Your secret is safe with him.

But he doesn’t let you pay for ship problems or other things he should have to deal with as a captain in the future. Sometimes it can spark arguments between the two of you. He’s so damn independent and prideful, and you just want to help ease his burdens when you can. You two usually find a compromise, but sometimes the argument can last a few days until one of you gives in to the other.

Sometimes he caves first, sometimes you do. It not a super common occurrence, and after your alls spat about money is over, it’s completely forgotten. Law doesn’t want to take advantage of you, even though he knows you don’t see it like that. Because of that, you rarely buy things for him. He’s more of an “Acts of Service'' and “Quality Time” kind of guy anyway.

He likes to pamper you with gifts though. Little treats from a bakery, small pieces of jewelry you pass by and comment on. In the back of his mind, he knows you can afford it, but he still likes to show his love through little gifts anyway. And you like receiving the gifts too. They’re way more special coming from him.

#one piece #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #one piece x you #one piece x reader #trafalgar law #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law x y/n #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #law x y/n #cozage #✧˚law✧˚

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copperbadge · 2 years

Text

Having ADHD and Being A Little Punk Rock

So....a huge amount of the discourse on Tumblr around neurodiversity generally is just venting. Which is good, it’s good to vent and Tumblr is a good place for it. And I know that often, when venting, the LAST thing you want to hear is someone trying to offer help or solutions. So generally I keep my mouth shut unless someone is speaking to me specifically.

But a while back I saw someone asking (rhetorically) about what people with ADHD wish their parents had known, and I had a lot of thoughts about that which I started jotting down. Reading the various ADHD tags, I also see a lot of teens and twentysomethings with ADHD who visibly have no coping mechanisms and no way of creating them. I don’t blame the kids, and it’s not some kind of personal failing on their part; they’re young, and nobody has taught them. But I look at them and I think, A little sideways thinking would help you out so much. Then, recently, I got an ask (thank you for the permission not to respond directly) that was full of feelings about not being able to process or communicate well, and feeling a lot of negative emotions because of it.

So, maybe it’s time to just throw this out there. I want to offer some advice as Fandom Dad with forty-three years of being neurodiverse and exactly seven months of actually being aware I was neurodiverse. Which for once is actually going to be pretty helpful! Because I looked at the world and I assumed my own neurotypicality and I thought, well, okay, but fuck all that.

Allow me to explain.

I think this can apply to a number of ways in which people are neurodiverse, but I have ADHD so that’s what I’m really speaking to here. With ADHD, there’s medication, and I strongly urge people to explore that option because medication is awesome when it works. But there’s also a lot out there about how to try harder, or trick yourself into doing something in a very neurotypical way, or use systems that may not work for you. I know; I tried some too, and the sense of failure, the sense of being an ongoing failure, is terrible. So I want to offer an alternative which has helped me a great deal, and may help other people with ADHD, particularly younger people.

People of any age, but especially young people who have ADHD, should be made aware that it’s okay to suck at things, to struggle, and to fail. Even if you think you should be good at something, even if everyone around you thinks so too, it’s okay to just be garbage at it and to acknowledge that fact. But just saying “well I’m dumb and can’t do this” of course isn’t actually helpful, and harms you a great deal, because you are a living person with feelings and if you’re self-aware enough to notice, you’re also too smart to be calling yourself dumb. Acknowledging that you’re bad at something, and even acknowledging that you’d like to succeed at it, is only part one of figuring life out.

Part two is deciding what to do about it, and more importantly, how.

I was always told I was smart, but I was told “You’re smart so you should be able to do this”, not “You’re smart, so let’s come up with a way around this.” I don’t think many people are encouraged to explore why they are bad at something, to understand their own brains and thought processes which cause them to struggle.

Decades before I knew I had ADHD, I had to figure out that one of life’s most important skills is not being able to creatively solve problems but to recognize when you have to. Anyone can sit around and come up with three or four ways to solve a problem, but it’s not actually often taught that you should also be aware of when this is needed. Often, when faced with a problem that is difficult to solve, we’re taught that our reaction should be the socially approved “I just need to try harder”. Sometimes that’s true, but usually it’s not.

More often, when we feel that instinct, especially as people with ADHD, we should say instead, “I’m not going to try harder, that’s bullshit. I’m trying already. I’m going to find another way to solve this problem.” Trying harder doesn’t work, after all, when your own brain is fighting you.

So you stop and think, if there were no rules to the world, how could I do this? You don’t have to work smarter; a lot of my solutions could reasonably be described as “work dumber”. The point is to work differently in a way that helps you specifically.

Stop trying to remember to take your keys when you leave the house and get a lanyard and hang them on the doorknob; if you lose them a lot, hang the lanyard around your neck when you leave the house.

Stop pretending you’ll remember to scoop the litterbox every night and set an alarm that tells you to do it. Or don’t, that works for me but might not for you! Maybe you have to put the litterbox somewhere you’ll see it right before bed (I ALSO do this for the days I turn off the alarm and then promptly forget it happened).

There are phone charging cords in every room of my home so that I never run down my phone battery, something that is mildly inconvenient to have happen but deeply anxiety-inducing to think about for me. And now I never worry.

The point is, don’t ask how you can do better at something, ask how you can make something easier for you.

Even rewiring your brain to ask the question is a learned skill, though. You have to consciously stop when you find something is fighting you and consciously think, how can this be easier for my specific brain? If we assume I am not stupid but am in fact fighting an invisible monster, how do I make the monster visible?

Life became roughly 60% easier for me when I started thinking this way. Of all the tips for time management and list making and organizing and de-organizing you can try and implement, none of that is necessary if you know how to ask yourself, “How do I do this differently?” and come up with alternatives that suit your brain.

Especially with neurodivergence, there’s no “one size fits all” when it comes to handling it, neurologically or emotionally. So I think that it’s important to be a little bit punk rock. Not necessarily in the way of defying authority but in the way of defying convention -- the ability to say “fuck you” to the Way Things Are Done and do one’s own thing is very liberating and healthy. You lose a lot of the benefits of creative problem solving if you’re also ashamed of the solutions. So I think the best trick I know of to succeed despite unmedicated ADHD is just to say “fuck you, there must be an easier way to do this.”

I’m garbage at cleaning my home (I can say that because I’m not only calling myself garbage, I’m using “I’m bad at this” as a stepping stone to solving the problem, and then I no longer feel like garbage and can joke about it with a healthy ego). I vacuum regularly and do the dishes and such but like...I don’t scrub the floors or dust or wash out the bathtub. That’s part of why I do November Cleaning -- so that at least once a year those things, that I never want to do but always think I should do, get done, but only have to be done once and at a specific designated time. So now if the bathroom floor is a bit grimy in the corners I just think, “Ah -- that’s for November” and add it to my November Cleaning list.

For my friend who struggles with communication, which is something I also used to really struggle with (and still do in some ways), one of my “make stuff easier” techniques for this was simply to...tell people.

“Hey, I tend to talk really fast when I get excited, so please tell me if I need to slow down.”

“Sorry, I have some hearing issues, I may ask you to repeat something -- it’s fine just to do it slower, I don’t need louder.”

“I’m upset and struggling, I need a minute.” (or even just “Hey where’s the bathroom?” so you can sit quietly for a moment and gather your thoughts. If you’re too upset to talk, it also helps to type them out, which I often do.)

If someone tells me something I want to remember, I’ll get out my phone and say “Sorry, I’m still listening, but I want to write that down so I won’t forget it.” I do all my writing-things-down in Google Tasks, then once I’m somewhere quiet and private I review the notes and move stuff that isn’t actually “to do” to another list. Sometimes I’ll tell someone “I’m so sorry, you just said something and I totally missed it, but it’s important to me -- can you repeat it?”

Most people find that kind of honesty, where you’re open about why you’re maybe talking at cross-purposes, really charming. It indicates that you think they are important, and you’re putting in effort to hear what they’re saying and respond to it thoughtfully.

I hope this is helpful in finding ways around some basic problems, rather than through them -- that being able to stop and think “This could be easier -- how?” is something that people can internalize and make use of. Going around a mountain rather than through it might look like it’ll take more time and energy, but it beats trying to punch through granite the whole way there.

#sam has adhd

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m-says-hi · 16 days

Text

Hi I have more thoughts about Sampo… kinda. This is more about some weird things I found out about Mechanical Fever that might have to do with Sampo

For those of you who don’t know, Mechanical Fever is Serval’s band. Why do I think Sampo has anything to do with it? Well in his character introduction he mentions that he used to play for Serval’s band. Or more specifically, he would stand in when they were short handed.

So yesterday, I remembered this and decided to look into Mechanical Fever, not expecting to find anything. I was wrong.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me first list the members of Mechanical Fever and then explain the weird things you find out when you speak to them about the band.

Serval: Lead singer and guitarist Pela: Drummer Lynx: Keyboarder Dunn: Old keyboarder ???: Bassist

I’m going to go from least to most interesting response

Pela I don’t think we ever actually talk about Mechanical Fever to Pela in person. If we do, I didn’t find it on the wiki. However she does message us about it, asking if we were coming to a show. Other than that she doesn’t really tell us much.

Dunn Talking to Dunn is when it first gets interesting. When we talk to him about Mechanical Fever, he mentions that he remembered there were four members: Serval, Pela, him and an unknown fourth member.

The weirdest thing about this is of course the fact that Dunn doesn’t remember who this fourth member was. He doesn’t even remember the instrument they played and only remembered they played the bass after we suggested it.

Another strange thing is how Dunn calls the bass player a “he” before doubting their gender. When I first found this information and shared it with my friends, we assumed it was Sampo. Afterall, we know he played with Mechanical Fever sometimes. We also know he’s a Fool, so him messing with Dunn is believable. And Sampo’s gender seems to be questionable considering his adventures as Burghel.

But talking to the other band members made me doubtful…

Lynx When talking to Lynx in the outlying snow plains you can ask her if she’s a member of the band. She says yes and then goes on to talk about the other members… also bringing up our mysterious bass player. But not only that…..

She mentions Cocolia of all people.

Now our good pal Sampo was a well connected man. But Cocolia? I’m doubtful of that for some reason. Especially since he eventually became a part of Wildfire. Yet who else would just “disappear”?

I didn't think much of it at first. I was pretty convinced Sampo was the bass player at first. And Lynx even calls it a baseless rumor. But Lynx isn’t the only one who mentions Cocolia.

Serval Serval is the last member to talk about. We actually speak to her about Mechanical Fever twice. Once is during a quest Pom Pom sends us on called “Looking for a Disk”. Basically we’re looking for music for the express. One of the places we go is to Serval to ask if her band has any discs to give to us.

She tells us that unfortunately she can’t and lists out the reasons why… problems with their bass player being one of them.

The other time we talk to her about it is when we find her in her workshop. We ask her about the members of our band and we hear about the bass player and… Cocolia again.

Again, it’s said that the lack of a bassist has to do with Cocolia. In fact Cocolia is mentioned so often with this mysterious bassist that the wiki has named her as the former bassist of Mechanical Fever.

However, I disagree with this conclusion. Both times Cocolia was mentioned, she was never directly called the bassist. Only that the bassist’s disappearance has something to do with her. It feels odd to me that they would mention the two separately. If Cocolia was indeed the bass player then why don't they just say that?

Another possible explanation is that maybe they’re trying to hide the fact she was a member of Mechanical Fever. But that doesn’t make sense either. Both Cocolia and Mechanical Fever were very well known. I mean Dunn’s status on his messages says that he left the band and people should stop contacting him about it.

If people know Dunn was a member, then surely they would know Cocolia was. That also doesn’t explain why Dunn doesn’t even remember who the bass player was. I’m pretty sure he’d remember who Cocolia was.

So… if it’s not Cocolia, then who? Sampo? But how is Cocolia involved? A friend of mine offered the explanation that maybe Sampo got himself involved in some sort of trouble involving both Serval and Cocolia. Then using Masked Fools magic, he wiped everyone’s mind. But the question remains, what trouble did he get into? And is this bass player even sampo?

#hsr #honkai star rail #sampo koski #hsr sampo #lore #theory

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youcouldmakealife · 2 months

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SOTM: Lourdes Family, David; family traditons

For the prompt: Jake's sisters slowly warming up to David

The problem with Nat and David, Allie decides early on, is that they’re too alike. Not in most ways, really — she doesn’t think they’d agree on much when it comes to their taste in media, or hobbies, or any of that, and she’s sure they’d both be surprised if she said they were similar at all.

But Allie knows Nat better than she knows herself, probably, and she’s made an attempt at getting to know David, because she knows how important it is to Jake, and some of the things that make Natalie Nat to her seem to be pretty similar to the things that make David David.

They’re both quiet, but it’s not shyness with either of them, though it can seem like it unless you know them. As often as not, Nat’s quiet because silently dismantling whatever’s being said in her head, about to spring it on whatever poor unsuspecting person just claimed they ‘could care less’ or called a pterodactyl a dinosaur or something that matters to nobody but Nat.

Though mostly she doesn’t actually say it to them — unless they’re family, she corrects Allie all the time, and poor Jakey doesn’t stand a chance — she’s saying it as an aside to Allie, or recalling it later ,‘my co-worker thought Babylon was a mythological place, and when I said 'oh yeah, like Bethlehem?' he said 'yeah, exactly!'’ or ‘If I hear someone use literally when they mean figuratively one more time, Allie, I swear I'm going to snap’.

She’s quiet, and sometimes she seems checked out, but she’s always paying attention to what everyone else is saying. Allie’s learned it’s the same with David — she’ll mention something and then nine months later David will have gotten her a Christmas present based on her offhand comment. Or he’ll ask if she wants the same drink as last time, last time being like, six months ago. Allie doesn’t know if he’s got that kind of memory for everybody, or if it’s just because she’s Jake’s sister, and he’s still trying to impress all of them, but, well — consider her impressed, she guesses.

But also, she’s pretty sure he’s also picking up on the mistakes everybody else makes, except instead of ‘Allie, let me tell you the misspelled bumper sticker I saw today’, she isn’t hearing shit from him. She doesn’t think Jake is either, at least if the people making mistakes are them. And they probably are. Allie has no illusions that she makes no mistakes: if she did, Nat would have beaten that belief out of her by now.

“He thinks he’s better than us,” Nat complained once, and Allie pressed her lips together very tightly, and she didn’t say a thing, and frankly, she thinks she deserves a medal for that.

As similar as David can be to Nat, he’s absolutely nothing like Jake. If Allie was asked to list their similarities, it’d be like — ‘very athletic white dudes around the same age’, and then a bunch of hockey specific things. Beyond that, she’s got nothing. It isn’t just their personalities — they have completely different taste in everything. Different priorities, outside of similar career ones. Some overlapping friends, but Allie just attributes that to Jake being able to make friends with a table leg if he wants to. They could not be less alike.

Allie’s never been a big believer in the whole ‘opposites attract’ thing, but honestly, maybe she should be: mom and dad are a pretty good example of it, and Jake and David seem to bring out the best in each other.

It took Allie a little while to come to terms with them getting back together, but she can’t deny that Jake seems to grow when he’s around David. Maturity wise, but he also just seems to stand up straighter, like just being around David makes him more alert, or aware, or maybe even self-confident, though that’s never been something he's lacked.

It probably isn’t just David he’s like that with — Allie hasn’t seen him around the Panthers too much, but he is the captain, after all — but either way, it’s a nice thing to see Jake grown up.

He’s still the baby to her, will probably always be the baby to her — anyone she put in pigtails and pulled around in a little red wagon while telling everyone to look at her pretty little dolly is going to be a baby to her forever, let’s face it — but for all that he’s been taller than her since he was twelve, he felt like a kid to her the whole way to the show, and for awhile after. He doesn’t feel like a kid anymore. Baby, sure, he's always going to be that, but not a kid.

If anything, David feels more like one. Not that he’s childish, or immature, or whatever, because Allie suspects he wasn’t even childish when he was an actual child. Maybe more someone suddenly immersed in a foreign culture — he doesn’t know where he’s supposed to be, what he’s supposed to do, what the hell is up with the wishbone thing.

She’s seen Jake explain things to him, the traditions she thought everyone did, and the traditions that are very Lourdes specific, the way mom gives extra mashed potatoes if you're a suck up, and how if people don’t take turns opening presents it turns into a free-for-all, and how nobody actually eats the cranberry sauce.

When Jake isn’t there to do it — rare, but the dude does need bathroom breaks — Allie figures it’s no skin off her nose to do it instead, and she even overhears Nat doing it once, though she might have just been venting about someone saying dumb shit again. She does love to do that.

The important thing is that he keeps showing up, even though he’s uncomfortable every single time — though maybe Allie’s imagining it, but she thinks he’s reached the ‘almost comfortable’ stage this Christmas, like, maybe feeling a little awkward, but no more than anyone else would, spending Christmas with his boyfriend’s family. Maybe more than someone typically would if they’ve been doing it every year, but Allie knows they can be a lot, that most people have trouble keeping up with the rapid back and forth — even Jake gets left behind sometimes, then pouty when they start tease him about it.

David was a wide-eyed spectator, the first few times he saw that. Jake told Allie later that he didn’t hear the fondness in it, just the mockery, got defensive on Jake’s behalf. Allie doesn’t know how he’s survived locker rooms for so long — their love language is basically just mockery and punching each other in sensitive places, at least judging by Jake and his teammates back in the day. Probably now too. She’s met Cody Gallagher, unfortunately.

He takes it better now though, even joined in yesterday when everyone was shit-talking Jake’s recent stab at growing facial hair, while Jake tried and failed to defend himself through giggles. On the one hand, Allie’s just glad it isn’t a mustache, but on the other hand, maybe he’d do a better job with that. This morning, Jake comes down to breakfast clean-shaven. Allie isn’t delusional: he didn’t shave it because his sisters gave him shit. That was all David.

“High five,” Allie says when David joins them downstairs, and she’s half expecting a quizzical look, maybe even the ‘what the hell are the Lourdes talking about now’ one that surfaces sometimes, but instead she gets a tiny smile and a high five.

“I’m sitting right here, guys,” Jake says, but once again, he’s laughing.

#fic snippet #SOTM #david chapman #jake lourdes #allie lourdes #nat lourdes

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save-the-villainous-cat · 9 months

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Please write something with this when u have time?

“What are you doing in my house?”

The villain, draped across the windowsill, regarded the hero with a coy look, as if the answer was obvious. “You left your window open.”

“That’s usually not an invitation,” the hero replied. They had moved one too many times because of uninvited visitors and the hero had just gotten used to this apartment. Often, they felt like they couldn’t win, no matter what. They felt like a failure, someone who couldn’t even secure their own home.

“I’m not searching for a fight.” The villain stepped into the living room, studying everything before their eyes found the hero. All together, they seemed quite peaceful. Observant. “I’m here on, well, you would call it a mission, I suppose.”

“Not interested, sorry.” The hero was getting sick of missions. Bridges falling down, subways derailing, buildings collapsing. Heroes die alone, they always do, and even though the hero wasn’t loving their job, death was a tad too far.

Still, every single mistake they made would be printed and posted. Every failure would come right back at them with an intensity that chewed on their spirit. They didn’t have time for therapy, so they felt themselves turn into a bitter human being.

In all honesty, did the hero deserve this? Probably…it’s easy to point and laugh at someone, even just for a second, so thinking about one’s own personal failures can become bearable. The hero had power, the hero had responsibility. Who deserved more to be blamed for failure than the most powerful being in the city?

“I’m just here because our sidekicks are friends, okay?” the villain said. They weren’t in costume and the hero didn’t see any weapons. As a civilian they looked quite nice. “They told me where you live. They’re worried about you. ”

The hero looked up from the pan they were cleaning. A failing villain was a win for the city and a failing hero was a catastrophe.

Hadn’t they done enough? Hadn’t they worked hard enough? Hadn’t they saved enough people? When was it their turn to be satisfied?

“My sidekick doesn’t know where I live. Safety protocol,” the hero said. The villain’s ears turned red and they cleared their throat.

Their eyes were glued to the floor. A rather futile attempt to hide their lie.

“Okay, well…it’s still true. They’re worried about you. You’re overworking yourself. They said you’re in danger.”

“And you wanted to come and save me?” the hero asked. Their chuckle was as insincere as it could get. “How cool is that? I’m getting saved by the villain.”

Silence. Only the siren of an ambulance far away cut through it.

“I’m not a saviour,” the villain said finally. They walked towards the hero who was more or less done with cleaning the dishes. “The morality of it is…confusing to me.”

“It’s quite simple, actually. All of it is a trolley problem and no matter what you do or how many people you save, people will prattle and hate and blame you,” the hero sneered, letting their sponge fall into the dirty dishwater. At the end of the day, not doing anything might be better.

“Maybe you need a vacation.”

“Vacation? You’re funny.” The hero laughed humourlessly yet again. They hadn’t been on vacation for what? Five years now? Having the luxury of a vacation was an insane thought.

Sometimes they thought this decadence of their character made them unendurable enough to turn themselves into a villain.

“It’s okay to find out that your dream sucks,” the villain said softly. They were hesitant as they put a hand on the hero’s shoulder. “It’s okay to find out that what you’ve always wanted isn’t what you expected and that it’s not the right thing for you.”

The hero didn’t find that so funny. They looked up at their enemy, the person they had sworn to fight and hate.

“It’s okay to be dissatisfied and tired. It’s okay to hate what you’re doing. It’s not okay to hold onto that, though.”

“I have a responsibility.”

“Yes,” the villain said. “The responsibility to take care of yourself. You’re falling apart and I am not a saviour. I can’t save you from yourself. I can only challenge you to do better. So, do better. Be better and start taking care of yourself instead of everyone else.”

The hero had the tiny suspicion that the villain wasn’t doing this for their sidekick’s sake.

@avvail thank you for the prompt hihi

#this hero is sooooo tired #writing snippet #heroxvillain prompt #heroxvillain snippet #heroes and villains #hero #villain #hero x villain #heroxvillain #an answer for an ask #request

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steddieas-shegoes · 9 months

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didn't even need a plan

THIS IS A BIG BIG HAPPY BIRTHDAY FOR @messessentialist WHO I HAVE HAD IN MY LIFE FOR TWO MINUTES AND IF ANYTHING HAPPENED TO HER I WOULD DIE. Short Queens rise up (on a stepladder because that's what we need to reach things)!!! I am kissin you on the mouth rn.

Rated T | 1,315 words | tags: meddling, good uncle Wayne, secret established relationship

“How do they not see it?” Dustin asked, turning away from the scene in front of them to look at Wayne.

“I don’t know, son. Sometimes smart people are dumb,” Wayne shrugged.

Their plan was in place for weeks: get Steve and Eddie in the trailer alone together, cut the power, and hope they don’t leave.

Step one was easy. All they had to do was lie to Steve about Dustin needing a ride.

Step two was a little more difficult, but only because they forgot the trailer next door was on the same breaker. Wayne bribed the owners with enough cash to go get dinner somewhere, glad that they didn’t even ask for an explanation when money was being shoved into their hands.

Step three was the problem.

Steve and Eddie hung out all the time. The problem was they never hung out alone.

Dustin watched as they walked from the living room to the kitchen, then Eddie walked down the hall to his room before rejoining Steve by the couch.

“It’s just us I think,” Eddie said.

Dustin had rigged the walkie talkie so it stayed on, his own sitting between him and Wayne on the lowest possible volume so they could hear.

“So not Upside Down, then,” Steve said, sounding relieved.

“Nope, just good old fashioned unreliable power,” Eddie sighed. “We could probably try to flip the breaker. Maybe it was just a short.”

“Yeah. Maybe we give it a few minutes first?”

Dustin smacked at Wayne’s arm, smiling.

“They’re gonna sit down!” Dustin whispered excitedly.

“Calm down. Could be that nothin’ happens,” Wayne whispered back, though he could feel his own hopes rising.

It was hard to see them through the window, but they could see shadows moving to sit on the couch.

“Something will happen. There’s no way it won’t. They almost kissed yesterday and that was with all of us around,” Dustin insisted.

“That’s what you keep sayin’,” Wayne squinted to watch.

“I really can’t believe Dustin didn’t radio to let me know he found another ride,” Steve didn’t sound angry, but he definitely didn’t sound happy.

“I didn’t even know he needed a ride.”

“Do you know who picked him up?”

“Shit,” Dustin said.

“Didn’t think that through did ya?” Wayne asked, smirk audible.

“Nah, he just left. Didn’t really question it. He does a lot of crazy shit,” Eddie explained.

“Right.”

A minute of somewhat awkward silence followed and then someone slapped their knees.

“I’ll go check the breaker? It’s the one right outside to the left?” Steve asked.

“Uh-huh.”

“Dammit,” Wayne said, slowly moving away from the window and sitting down against the side of the trailer.

“Maybe he won’t be able to figure it out,” Dustin said, joining him on the ground.

“He’s definitely gonna figure it out. He’s a smart guy.”

“Who? Steve?”

Wayne looked over at Dustin, brows furrowed.

“Yeah, Steve. Why’re you surprised?”

Dustin shrugged.

“Gonna be honest, it doesn’t sound like you think much of Steve’s intelligence, son.”

Dustin’s eyes widened.

“It’s not that! He just isn’t usually quick to fix stuff.”

Wayne’s brow raised, waiting for Dustin to realize how that sounded.

They were interrupted by Eddie’s voice on the walkie.

“No luck?”

“Nope. Maybe we should try to call someone at one of the neighbor’s?” Steve responded, the sound of him sitting back on the couch barely audible.

“Maybe in a bit. Kind of nice just sitting here,” Eddie said.

“Yeah. Kinda tired,” Steve admitted, the sound of cloth shifting on the couch.

Wayne stood and looked through the window, small smile taking over his face before he sat back down.

“What is it?” Dustin asked, just a bit louder than he probably should have.

“Might get what we wanted after all,” Wayne replied with a smirk.

“Really?”

“Take a look,” Wayne waved up at the window.

Dustin looked in, barely containing a childish squeal when he saw what was happening.

Steve was leaning his head on Eddie’s shoulder, Eddie’s arm around him, running his fingers up and down his bicep, rings glinting off the little bit of light shining through the window.

“Wayne’s out for the night if you wanna stick around,” Eddie said, softer than he had been all night, softer than he’d been to anyone else maybe ever.

“Are you asking if I’ll stay the night, Eds?” Steve’s voice filtered through the walkie, a bit crackly as if he was barely speaking above a whisper.

Dustin turned to Wayne, eyes comically wide.

Wayne just shook his head.

He had an idea of where this was going.

“Yeah, sweetheart. Been too long,” Eddie just managed to say before Wayne snapped the walkie off.

“Why’d you do that?” Dustin hissed.

“Because we’ve been played and you’re too young to be listening to what’s about to happen,” Wayne said as he stood up. “C’mon, I’ll drive ya home.”

“What?! No! We had a plan!”

“We didn’t even need the plan, bud. C’mon.”

Dustin crossed his arms over his chest and started to argue when the window above them opened and Eddie spoke.

“Mind turning on the power before you go?” He asked, teeth bright white in the darkness surrounding them as he grinned.

“How did you know we were out here?” Dustin asked.

“I could hear the echo of the walkie. Plus, you think Steve didn’t already see you when he walked outside?”

“Don’t sound so smug, Ed,” Wayne laughed.

“What exactly was the grand plan?” Eddie crossed his arms over the sill. “Hope we got bored enough to make out on the couch? Maybe if we thought it was dark enough, we wouldn’t think about who we were kissing?”

“Yes!” Dustin exclaimed, though Wayne remained completely silent.

“And you didn’t think that we do that with the lights on already? Like, for months?”

Dustin sputtered out his best attempt at words, but failed miserably.

“You broke him,” Steve said from behind Eddie, smiling over his shoulder at Dustin and Wayne.

“So. Months?” Wayne asked as Dustin continued muttering incoherently to himself.

“Officially only two. But we first kissed when I was still in the hospital,” Eddie admitted, turning his head to place a kiss on Steve’s cheek.

“But. But. That was five months ago!” Dustin was pacing, kicking up dirt under his feet as he tried to figure out the timing of everything and how he could have missed the most obvious signs. “You’re never even alone that much!”

“We find ways,” Eddie said.

“I work a lot of nights still,” Wayne said to Dustin. “Why didn’t ya say anything?”

“We just wanted something for ourselves for a bit. We’re in this for the long haul and if everyone knew, we’d never find peace to just be together,” Steve said.

“But-”

“Alright, son, let’s get the power on and I’ll take ya home. These two probably want some privacy,” Wayne interrupted, squeezing his shoulder once to get his attention.

Dustin sighed.

“Fine. But you have to tell everyone soon. I can’t keep this a secret for that long.”

“Sure thing, bud,” Steve agreed before turning away from the window.

“You sure you can take him home?” Eddie asked Wayne.

“That’s the only part of the plan that’s workin’ so far, so yeah,” Wayne laughed.

Eddie nodded and waved before closing the window and following Steve.

Wayne walked over to the breaker box and flipped the switch, turning to Dustin and waving him over.

“C’mon. Don’t think we wanna be here in the next five minutes.”

“Gross. They’re like…my dads or something. That’s disgusting,” Dustin gagged as he walked to Wayne’s truck.

“Yeah, well. Maybe you’ll get a new sibling.”

“That isn’t how science works.”

“Yeah, well. We got a whole other world under our feet, kid. I think science is far out of our understanding.”

Dustin didn’t respond.

He didn’t want to even consider Wayne being right.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #drabble #ficlet #gift fic

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