#but GOD do i need party in high school moments even if its just for an episode 😭

[pinkeoni]

The set pics and interviews are making things look more and more apocalyptic although if there’s one thing about America they make school persist no matter what. And if not then I’m enrolling those boys myself.

#i still dont see the scavenging for resources and monsters running amuck at least not right away #vecna would need to come out of dormancy for that #but im opening up to the quarantine and the military control which is what its looking like anyway #but GOD do i need party in high school moments even if its just for an episode 😭 #stranger things

[ackerfics]

i carry your heart with me (i carry it with my heart): gojo satoru

— i fear no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet)

gojo satoru x reader

notes: first time writing for jjk and it's for our pretty boy !! based on that one b-99 scene between jake and amy

being on the same year level with gojo satoru means having to put up with the spontaneity of his man-child tendencies. while it is true that he is the pinnacle of the entirety of the jujutsu society from his first wail to the world --- a god amongst mortals; tipping the equilibrium with his very existence, there are moments embroidered in between his rambunctious nature that makes him almost human. key word being almost. such as betting on the most random missions to prove a point like regular teenagers.

"am i going to regret this bet, suguru?" you ask the person yaga assigned to be your pair in capturing the rest of the 2nd-grade curses loitering around the area, with the possibility of a 1st-grade intermingling with them, which puts the entire chase into a total of nine curses. you two are in one of the more desolated areas of tokyo, having split up from the usual group of four your school boasted since the start of first year.

before starting the circle of exorcism your group is about to unleash on these curses, satoru used this opportunity to dangle a proposition between you two, a tradition before embarking on a mission.

it goes this way this time: if he exorcised more curses than you, you're going to do anything he wants (nothing sexual, but judging from the grin on his face, you nearly shivered). he emphasized his words with those black sunglasses of his reflecting your astounded face. you instantly felt the world cave, because your life is on the line. why would you ever date such a person who has no regard to safety and is always known to be obnoxious to the point that you wished you were never a jujutsu sorcerer in the first place? however, if you win this round (which you never won since the first time you two started this whole charade), he's going to be a bit more honest with you. for other people, your condition is as simple as letting impulsivity carry on their choices; but for satoru, it's a moment of weakness. you were left stunned when you saw the tiniest budge of hesitation flicker on his face, almost as if he knew what you meant in your conditions, but just as quickly as you saw it, it vanished. so, he wears false confidence like a second skin and accepts the bet with a handshake, partnering up with shoko instead of suguru. he said something along the lines that you need all the help you can get and that because he's so good, he's going to give suguru to you to at least even out the two parties. what an asshole. he doesn't even give you a chance to utter a rebuttal because he vanished in thin air with shoko waving and pumping her fist at you.

"well," suguru draws out the word.

you throw him a look. "oh, come on, i know that tone --- i'm going to lose my monthly allowance, right? i know he's going to ask me to buy anything sweet he can find on our next mission."

suguru hums with that smile of his, never dimming, never fading, and always warm to the touch. he takes out one hand from his pocket and pats you on the crown of your head. "i'm with you on this one."

you look up at him. "what?"

"i want to see satoru stop all this dancing around he's been doing with you. i mean, the rest of us are even confused if he really does hold feelings for you or not. i think it will do him some good for once in his life."

you look down on the gravel, your hair doing its job covering your features.

ever since you introduced yourself to the other first years in the tokyo branch of jujutsu high, satoru has always sparked this inexplicable interest surrounding you. you like to think it's because of your upbringing, being from one of the more noble jujutsu families who bears the technique of forming contracts with curses, very much like how suguru goes about his technique. the difference between you and suguru lies in the fact that most of the curses your family has made a contract with are special grade, embodiments of the japanese folklore rather than the regular blobs and flies; and that everything is consensual between the sorcerer and the curse. so, stepping inside the room housing three other teenagers like yourself, the flare of your cursed energy captures their attention, one of which possessing the legendary six eyes, having sparkled like no other the moment he placed them on your figure. this rather random fascination of you he had since day one morphed into something that of courting, as yaga once called it (quite so done with it actually), since the boy started calling all the most absurd adjectives and phrases and attached them to your name. beautiful, pretty, heavenly, utterly graceful, stealer of my heart, owner of my attention ... darling, honey, kikufuku, mochi ... anything exhausting really. everything was so abrupt and out-of-the-blue that you had no time dwelling on when this all started.

you now want it to stop.

it doesn't do well because it's blurring all the lines you've drawn between you and your classmates. you don't even have the time to think about the number of times a passerby remarks how wonderful of a couple you two look (any elderly people really) and gojo would boast that yes, my girlfriend is so beautiful and i am lucky enough to have her, ma'am; we started dating last year; it was love at first sight --- you just want to punch him.

then comes the unexpected, lingering touches he brushes against your skin; a pinky finger intertwined with yours, his hand lightly hovering at the small of your back, his knuckles caressing your face and remarking how you look nice for the day, an invading hand tucking a stray bundle of hair behind your ear, nearing his face so that you can whisper something to his ear without any difficulty, and anything that sets your heart ablaze. not to mention he looks at you with something indescribable; eyes reflecting you and only you and sunglasses sliding from the bridge of his nose. it's all softness, no rough edges like how he is with suguru or shoko, and he treats you as such. he once mentioned you are his haven, the only person he doesn't mind turning his infinity off for and the only person to touch him without having the need to let him know.

"i think it won't be good for him if he tells you how he really feel," suguru's voice takes you away from contemplation. "at most, you would benefit from it as well." you turn to him and he wraps an arm around you for good measure. "i want my friends to find solace in our bleak part of the world. and hey, if you two do get together, i will be so proud!"

"yeah, right."

"i would!"

your two groups are tied.

the last curse is right at the end of the intersecting alleyway and what sets your blood pumping is the figure of gojo running from the opposite entrance, shoko cheering for him at the back. great, he managed to convince shoko that his conditions are worth supporting. you grit your teeth and you push forward with more speed that you ever did in a physical activity. god, you're definitely going to feel the repercussions of pushing yourself too hard after this.

feeling the taut connection of your contracted curse, you summon her, "amanozako, go."

the image of a beastly woman slithered from within you, hungry to satisfy her cravings of lesser curses. you watch with narrowed eyes as gojo laughs, teleporting himself closer to the last curse you four have on the list.

then, the most bizarre thing happens.

you somehow reach the curse first than him, leading to your contracted curse to swallow the target in one swoop. she disappears from view and you can only see him --- standing there with a huge grin on his face, the sky of his eyes shining brighter than a beacon.

you blink, breath shuddering from all the running. "w-why--?"

gojo shrugs. "you have it first."

"but you're faster."

he glances behind shoko, who knowingly nods her head. his eyes flicker back at you. "i like you."

all air seems to escape you. everything is silent and all you can hear is the thudding rhythm of your heartbeat. you're pretty sure you look like an imbecile with your mouth open in shock but with the way gojo stares at you from over his sunglasses, one will think he's staring at the most pulchritudinous being he has ever laid his eyes on --- the first blossoming of spring in april. because even with the others lingering in the background, gojo has his six eyes focused on you. you can't even manage to utter a word when he repeats those three goddamn words that will haunt your daydreams.

"i like you, [name]. i'm willing to lose against you if that's what it takes to say my feelings. figured this is the better route compared to the cowardly one i wanted."

"thank me, you idiot!"

"ignore her," gojo casually says after hearing shoko's words, his steps taking him closer to you with his hands snug inside the pockets of his slacks. once he stops in front of you, he takes one of his hands from his pants and brushes the back of his knuckles over your cheek. butterflies seem to bloom on the areas where he leaves behind his wordless declarations. "so, what do you say, sweetheart? wanna give this a shot?"

#— rory's passages 🌼 #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #jjk x you

[kylejsugarman]

how does baby do during her first semester of college, when she’s just 17? how do jesse and demi adjust to having no kid at home?

oughhh ive always hesitated to talk about this specific transition because its so tough for all parties involved......like yay super close family unit formed :) oh god the linear nature of growth and change :( they try to plan it all out and prepare Really well for the moment where jesse and demi leave campus after moving her in and baby stays behind to start school so that it's a "clean break", but it lasts like. the road trip back home. before baby calls like (1 million bad feelings too big to express) "I Want To Come Home" and it's nearly impossible for both of them to not be like "yes ma'am right away" (gets right back into the car for the 12 hour drive) because they also want her to come home. its been just the three of them for so long that its so hard to suddenly split up and deal with that sudden change when part of the comfort of their family was that like. there didnt Have to be dramatic life changes anymore

demi has more experience with the transition to college life, so she's the one who helps baby deal with not having as Consistent of a routine and adjusting to living with a roommate when theyre both people who value having their own private space. baby misses structure and familiarity and doesnt leave her dorm room for anything other than class for almost the entire first semester because the newness of campus is too overwhelming and she doesnt have any solid points of contact. demi completely sympathizes and tries her best to consistently coax baby out of her dorm over the phone and advises her to consider joining a study group for her favorite class, which ends up being the jumping off point for baby actually meeting some people and leaving her room. jesse feels bad that he cant offer more concrete support and advice like demi, but his emotional support is crucial to her even surviving that scary first semester. he'll drop everything to talk on the phone with her no matter the time of day, giving her that safe and familiar base to return to, and its not uncommon for her to ask him to stay on the phone with her until she falls asleep, especially during those early weeks. he only ever posts mail under demi's name just out of paranoia, but he sends her lots of letters that are mostly just doodles and brief tangents and physical photos of the dogs, all of which end up hung on her walls to comfort her. she relies A Lot on them that first year and they're happy to help her: baby is a kid who Needs support and they provide it because they love her and want her to feel like she can pursue her dreams with room and cushioning to fail and fall.

as for jesse and demi being empty-nesters, it's just really Weird at first. they're obviously doing a lot of parenting from a distance and they initially talk about baby all the time out of their joint concern for her wellbeing, but it's odd not having her there. they were also kind of relying on a routine that's now gone. demi's depression resurges and she loses interest in all of her hobbies, letting her garden grow over. she just feels really lost and directionless: taking care of baby and being her guardian was demi's New purpose after losing the rest of her family. jesse backslides some, smoking All The Time since they dont have to worry about indoor smoke triggering baby's asthma and getting high with mason pretty frequently rather than just occasionally. he needs a distraction from the hole in his life, the huge amount of loss he'd incurred that had later been filled by demi and of course baby. that was his buddy :( his best friend. it's tough for both of them to confront and express these feelings, but they've gotten a little better at being Open over the years. sheila drags them out of the house as often as possible to hang out with her and her wife so theyre not just sitting around feeling sad. she basically instructs them to make more friends and strengthen their preexisting friendships (sheila knows best, after all) and just keep enjoying life. they're still young!! they're not even 40 yet!!!!! hanging out with other people definitely helps, but just having each other during that time is the most potent method of coping. not having baby there for the first time Ever in their relationship makes both jesse and demi realize how much they love one another and how closely their lives and hearts are now intertwined. its a really hard time for everyone involved, but by the time winter break rolls around, all three of them are definitely in a better place than where they started :)

#syd squeaks #anon do u have any idea how much this warmed my heart. answering this was the most fun ive had all week :') #it poured out of me i had so much fun writing this #jesse pinkman #demi ayuluk #baby ayuluk #mason ayuluk #sheila burton

[rsedits9420]

Ok so this is like my first time writing, so don’t mind the grammar lol, but…. I just wanted to try it out because it honestly looks fun. So here’s my first fic ig? 🤷🏼‍♀️

Feelings.

Mark Estapa x reader

Btw y/n/n =your nick name and y/c = your color!

Theme- Mark and y/n have been best friends since they were kids. She moved with him to u-mich. Mark and y/n start to have difficulty finding their feelings for each other. That causes them to drift. Until one of them finally makes a move.

Word count: 2.0k

Y/n

I hate frat partys. It’s all so stupid. Who wants to go hang out with a bunch of drunk people who can’t control themselves? I guess Mark does. He drug me here, so he wouldn’t be “lonely”. This kid. He acts as if he has no game. He could easily get a girl on his hip. That for sure wasn’t the problem. Mark and I have been besties for almost 15 years. We meet in my backyard after he accidentally shot a puck into it. He climbed the fence just to meet with little ol’ me. He asked if I wanted to join him, and me being me I took the invite. Ever since that day on we have been inseparable. I went to every single one of his hockey games. Home or away. He never missed a Sunday night movie with me. We did everything together. He was even my date to all 4 homecomings and 2 proms. Our families have always said we will end up with each other one day. Oh god, I hope so. I’ve always thought mark was cute, but it really got terrible as soon as we got to college. How couldn’t I have known how attractive this guy was? I feel like a fool, because in no way will he ever feel the same. I stare across the room to see mark up against some sorority girl. She practically eating his face. I can’t help to feel a sense of jealousy. Then reality hit. He's a D1 hockey player and future NHL player and I’m just me. A girl is now sitting alone at a party staring at her best friend with another girl.

“Y/n come on I need you for pong!” Eddy yells. Ethan is the only one who knows about my true feelings. After Mark and him became roommates I spent a bunch of time in their dorm. Ethan is one of the most genuine people I have ever met. “I'm on my way Eddy!” I replied. Maybe this will help me take my mind off Mark.

As I walk up to Ethan, I'm met with the sight of Nolan doing a keg stand. These hockey boys have no shame. Moyle’s overall strap is currently falling down, starting to fall onto his face. That’s when he face plants right on the hardwood. I can’t help but laugh. “ Yo Moyle dude you okay?” Dylan ask. Nolan sits up looks at me and eddy and says,” Can I play y’all in pong now?” Never a dull moment with this crowd that’s for sure.

After Eddy and Dylan set up the game, I can’t help but wonder where Mark is. I turn to look to where I saw him last and notice he is nowhere in sight. All of a sudden Nolan yells,” Hey y/n are you ready or what?” I snap back into reality and grab the ball.

I’ve just downed my second cup, when I feel two hands grab a hold of my shoulders. “Y’all winning?” A familiar voice says. I turn around to be met with Mark’s gorgeous dark brown eyes. Ethan gasp offendedly. “Stop Sign you know me and her kick serious ass every time we play. How could you even ask if we are losing” he says sarcastically. Mark and I turn toward each other and chuckle. Eddy’s right. We are currently 7/7 and are beating Nolan and Dylan by a shit ton right now. I bounce the ball and it falls into the final cup. Ethan jumps up and grabs me while saying,” How the hell did you get so fucking good at this game? Seriously I need answers.” Truth be told it was Mark. At our first high school party he taught me how to play. Granted he taught me, but I’m still better. He hates that I’m better than him at something he taught me but I just think it’s ironic.

After the game, me, Eddy, and Mark all head to the living room. The three of us sit next to eachother on the couch, while talking about next semester. Its our last semester before sophomore year. Mark, Eddy, Dylan, Mackie, and Luke are all planning to get a house close to campus to stay at, while I am just trying to find an apartment away from people. I'm not a people person that's for sure. It took me a while to get closes to Mark’s friends and his team. Luckily all of them love me. I’m like the team's little sister. Or at least that's what Mark tells me that's what they say. Mackie walks into the room with Luke by his side and says,” Y/n come on! We got somebody who wants to meet you!” Mackie’s hand sticks out inviting me to go with him. I grab his hand a let him lead me down the hall and out that back door to reach the backyard. I’m met with a man about 5’11 with brown hair and he’s wearing a Michigan basketball jersey. “Okay so y/n this is Will, Will this is y/n!” The brown-haired man sticks out his hand and I capture it. “ Me, Hughsey, and Mack are in the same Sports Management class. I saw how bad yall beat the absolute crap out of Duker and Nolan. I'm going to be completely transparent here. It was hot.” A blush crept onto my cheeks. “Um, thanks,” I respond. Damn an attractive guy just flirted with me and all I could say was “Um thanks”. I want to shake myself. “ Well I was wondering if maybe you wanted to go get coffee sometime?” Will asked me. “Sure I would love to!” I say back. He quickly grabs a pen out of his back pocket and grabs a napkin and starts to write something on it. Soon after he hands me the napkin with his number on it. A cute guy just gave me his number. Is this a dream? I sure hope not because I've never felt this good.”

Then Mark’s tall frame appears right next to me and says,” Hey y/n/n we should probably leave if we want to make it to town by 10 tomorrow.” I look at Mark and then at Will. Mark was right we were going back home for the weekend to see our families. “Oh yeah. We probably should.” I turn back towards Will and say,” It was nice meeting you! See you soon!” And grab Mark's hand and head out of the frat house.

Mark

What the hell. Are Mackie and Luke trying to piss me off?

That’s all I can think of, as I’m walking out of the frat party hand in hand with y/n. Mack and Luke tried setting her up with Will Martin. Fucking Will. Everyone knows his games. He will act like a great guy on the outside, but on the inside he’s a huge womanizer. So why the hell are they trying to set him up with y/n. They know what she means to me. How much I care for her. And yet they still did it. I make a mental note to get them back at practice.

As me and y/n make it to my car, she looks up at me and says,”Hey Stops you okay bud?” Stops. The nickname she gave me the first time we met. And somehow it stuck. I look at her soft relaxed face and sigh. “ Yeah I’m okay. Just tired you know.” Hopefully she buys my lame reply. She just nods and gets into the car. I follow, and crank the engine. “So who was that guy you were talking to?” I say acting like I didn’t care. “I don’t really know. Mack and Hughsey said he was in one of their classes. His name is Will, but that’s pretty much all I know. Oh and he plays basketball.” She says pretty nonchalantly. “Oh and he asked me out for coffee.” She says shyly. “Isn’t that a good thing?” I responded. She looks at me with glossy eyes and says,”Well I don’t really think it will work. I mean look at him and then look at me? I’m nowhere near his league.” What?!?! Is that what she thinks? Because I think a hell of a lot more than that. If anything she’s out of HIS league. I try to calm down before saying,” Y/n, no. I know you might not think it, but you're beautiful. Don’t let anyone make you feel differently. And also if anything you're out of his league. Not the other way around.” She looks at me and smiles,”Mark, I don't know what I’d do without you.” I’m pretty sure I’m blushing after her comment but I’m not going to look. I can’t have her knowing my feelings. She wouldn’t ever feel the same. I will be just the boy next door who was like a brother to her.

And it was painstakingly obvious. Basically our whole highschool knew. And just after two times of meeting y/n, all the guys here knew too. I’ll get chirped about it for probably the rest of my life. Mark Estapa, the guy with some of the most penalties in the big 10, is too scared to tell the girl he’s been in love with for 8 years that he loves her. And I do love her. Not like a friend, but more. But I know that she can’t say the same.

I think about her and Will, all the way back to my dorm room. Her small frame slowly follows from behind me, as we’re going down the dorm hallway. I open the door and she stalks her way in. She goes straight to my dresser and picks out an old storm shirt and a pair of sweats. “Can I wear these tonight?” She asked. “Of course. But be careful with the sweats, the drawstring is broken, might have to roll it a couple of times, shorty!” She gives me a glare before throwing a sock of the floor at me. “I’m not short, you're just huge!” She says. I give her a skeptical look. “Uh huh. Sure.” I say as I go to the bathroom to brush my teeth. When I walk out she’s on my bed scrolling through her phone, not paying any attention at all, so I decide to jump right onto the bed. My actions cause her to almost fling off of the bed and right onto the floor. Lucky for her she doesn’t. She playfully slaps my chest and says,”So you think your funny Stops?” Uh yeah I do. I’m hilarious. I take off my sweat shirt and shoes and climb right next to her on the tiny ass twin bed. I grab her to pull her close. I take in her sweet smell and it reminds me of the hood she has on me. We’ve been snuggle buddies since we were 5. She and I kinda just did everything together for the first 3 years. We wouldn’t be able to sleep unless the other was next to us. It causes our parents some trouble, but who really cares? Not us, that's for sure. Over the years, after her Sunday movie nights we would either stay at her house or go to mine to sleep. It’s just been our thing. And once we got to college it happened more. Her roommate is definitely an interesting cat. She’s super sweet,but definitely not someone I would be able to hang out with for 8 hours a day. That’s why y/n comes to hang out with me and the guys. Eddy loves her like a little sister and the others treat her as one of us, so she’s always hanging with us. Nobody minds, we actually love the company. Me a little too much but I won’t tell her that. I get one good look at her beautiful y/c hair and y/c skin and drift off to sleep with the image of her in my mind.

Let me know how it was!!!!

Pt 2 ⬇️

#mark estapa #mark estapa blurb #mark estapa x reader #michigan #michigan hockey #umich boys #umich wolverines #hockey #umich hockey #ethan edwards #luke hughes #dylan duke #mackie samoskevich #nolan moyle #Michigan fic #hockey blurb #hockey fic #mark estapa fic

[kindnessisweakness2]

Delusional - Part 23

Jax's heart dropped when he heard his voice. He stood silently in his kitchen, Alex's Back to him. Just the sight of him stood in their home made Anger rise and burn in his chest. "The longer you hold this fucking gun to my head, really makes me think you dont have the balls to actually kill me. What are you waiting for Alex? All the dramatics, all the times you've told me you were gonna end my life and you cant actually do it?" Delaney's laugh echoed through the empty living room. Jax silently thanked a God he didnt believe in that she was alive. A mad man having a gun to her head wasnt ideal but her heart was beating and for that Jax was thankful. "Im taking my time. Enjoying our last moments together. Isnt it mad how far we've come love? High school sweethearts, Moving across the world together, a baby..." Delaney cut Alex's trip down memory lane short. "Do not speak about my child." Alex's grin spread wide at the pain in her voice. "Oh thats right, not my baby. A product of your sordid little affair with HIM." It was Delaney's turn to grin this time. "Did you ever think i would be stupid enough to let you get me pregnant? You dont deserve to be a dad Alex. Jax? He'll be an amazing dad one day." Jax's heart throbbed in his chest as he listened to Alex Taunt her. "Yes, with some other whore just as desperate as you to jump into his bed. You will be long gone by then. A distant memory." Jax felt sick as he heard him talk so candidly about her death. He wouldnt cope without Delaney in his life. Losing her would be the thing that tipped him over the edge. He would self destruct.

Shooting his mom a short text, Jax cocked his gun and stepped into the living room. Keeping the gun aimed at the assholes head he moved into a position where he could see Delaney too. "Oh Loverboy has arrived. Good. Lets get this party started." Alex looked at Jax, Gun still pointed firmly at Delaney on her knees. Her eyes widened at the sight of Jax. She didnt want him in the middle. She didnt want him to have to watch her die. Not only her but their future, their baby. Jax took in the sight of her. Face quickly bruising, blood dripping from her cheek where she was clearly punched. He was going to kill Alex. Make him fucking pay for everything he had done to his girl. The stalking. The attack. The baby. The abuse. Fuck he was gonna pay for it all. "Take the fucking gun away from her head." His tone was low, the look on his face serious. "You shoot me im gonna shoot her. Its a lose lose situation buddy." Alex spoke not taking his eyes from Jax, and it made Delaney feel sick. "You are one delusional prick if you think your walking out that door. I dont need a gun to kill you." Jax took a step forward with all the confidence in the world, throwing his gun to the side. Any other situation, Delaney would've found confident cocky Jax insanely attractive. All she could feel in that moment was fear for her fiance. Gasps left her mouth as Alex turned the gun on Jax. "Your willing to die for her? Thats sad man. You could have anyone but you just had to have her. She's MINE!" Jax shrugged and smirked at Delaney. "What can i say? Im a sucker for a pretty face." Delaney couldnt believe him. Even in a life/death situation he was a fucking flirt.

Alex Looked at where Delaney still kneeled on the floor. "Its you or him. You letting him die for a worthless piece of shit like you?" Without Missing a beat Delaney stood from the floor, "Me". He turned the gun on her, smirking. He knew she would offer herself. So predictable. Turning away from Alex slightly, Delaney smiled at Jax through tears."I love you." She was going to die. He was never going to stop. Her dead meant Jax was safe. Their family was safe.

And without missing a beat. Without over thinking it, Delaney grabbed the gun. One hand on the barrell and one hand on his wrist, fingers digging in the pressure points.

*BANG*

*BANG*

*BANG*

#jax teller x reader #sons of anarchy #jax teller #jax teller imagine #jax teller x oc #sons of anarchy imagine #sons of anarchy fanfiction

[neutrallyobsessed]

EPISODE 3!!!!!!!!! PARTY!!!!!!!!!

and im understanding Van Gogh's role even less! what is he doing here? getting along with people! is he a spy or something??

LIKE YOOOO SUSAN B ANTHONY NOW??? WHATS GOING ONNN!!!

OH SHIT big day for sacagarver but Malcom what you doing man!!

like, based, but its harriet's moment to cheat!! did they make this episodes out of order or what???

CLONEY ISLAND IS FUCKING REAL!!!!!!!!

((mr to? they'll be cutting down his name so much that he'll just be lol))

well nevermind, but at least he got one benjamin :D BUT WHAT IF I DIDNT PAY TAXES!!!!!! LMAOOO

LEGALLY SPEAKING THAT IS- OH SHIT THAT WAS FUNNY Damn they really got the hang of it!!! hell yeahhh :DD OH NO NOT CHRISTIAN ROCK!!!!!

YOU DON'T HAVE A NOSE!!

Sex-addict JFK trying religion? that sounds cool! lets see how it goes!

hey im just realizing that clone high high school is like very science so putting religion there is hilarious yoooo

WHITE WOMAN JUMPSCARE!!!!! And the white woman is down with the idea!!!!! big day for candworth ^^♥♥♥!!!

hey so ahh the joan and harriet secret friendship kinda goes hard yknow? and yeahhhh CHEATING!!! THE DRAMA!!!

WHITE MAN JUMPSCARE!!!!! and he sounding kinda jealous~~ (ngl i missed him for the like 10 mins he didnt appear on-screen ahahaha)

and wait yeah, that is where Joan and Toots used to live! They kept it for her!

and they troll people online!! aaaaaaaa- btw have they emo boy's name yet? no? ok-

OH YEAHH FRIDA AND CLEO USING THEIR INFLUENCE FOR THEIR SELFISH DESIRES WE LOVE TO SEE IT!!!!

Anddddd yeahhhhh the Abe and JFK friendshippppp do be likeeeee Abe and Gandhi, but Abe is Gandhi nowwwww i dont knowww how to feellll bout thaaaaatttt- hehehehehe get your virginity back lol and yeah, they really are bragging bout the eye sex eh? aight then...

ok ok you can STOP with all the BLOOD its actually FUNNIER WITHOUT the BLOOD! it really is a funny physical comedy montage among other jokes but PLEASEEEE you know how people complain that Hazbin Hotel is too fucking RED well IT APPLIES HERE AS WELL! STOP BEING TOO UNNECESARILY RED!!!- UU! eyepatch Abe! here he is!!

Why the long face? jkjskjsjsksjksjskjsks oh that was good

NOOOOOOOOO THE BOYNIVERSARYYYYY AAAAAAAA

YESSSSSS HARRIET TALK TO GOD! THE REAL HARRIET ALSO HEARD RELIGIOUS VOICES! LIKE JEANNE, LIKE COLUMBUS! ANOTHER ONE??? nahh, but it'd be funny if Joan were dragging ppl down to her level ey?

soup al'ognion

AND WHY THE FUCK WAS VAN GOGH THERE- wait this is like ep3 with Abe and Gandhi's friendship falling out or something GANDHI HE MENTIONED HIM AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

OHMY GOOOOD THEY ARE GAINAXING!!! (Gainaxing, when it's not about boob jiggling physics, it's the most extreme form of limited animation, when a scene stays static for a long amount of time to save resources, with all the religious stuff and the related evangelion reference, this pun is most intended!! Awesome!!!)

Locker Girl :)

OH NOOOO HE WAS RIGHT BEHIND HERRRR!!!!! lmao yeah i love that specification!

welp, selfcest gang, you know what to do ;)

oh man, IF ONLY they had a clone of NON WESTERN RELIGIOUS FIGURE!!! And well, seems like JFK is a VolCel now!

Rating: WE NEED GANDHI BACK OMGGG/10!

Topher Bus has appeared on screen for 16 seconds

#clone high #liveblogging #clone high season 3

[bifuriouswaterbender]

I'm a couple days early, but Happy Valentines Day to @manda-panda-monium! This fic was written as part of the Steddie Valentine's Fic Exchange using prompts from my giftee. Manda, I tried to incorporate a few of the things you asked for, but that request for a Soulmate AU really latched on in my brain. I hope you enjoy!

Title: Is There A Word for Bad Miracle? Rating: T Words: 6040 AO3 link

Steve always figured he’d meet his soulmate at a party. He got called King Steve in other settings, but it just seemed like a party phrase. It seemed like a joke.

Steve tried to pretend like it didn’t matter. He put his head down and tried to buckle through the rest of his shit show senior year. When it happened, he tried to pretend he hadn’t heard.

He didn't say any words back to Eddie Munson.

Steve always figured he’d meet his soulmate at a party. He got called King Steve in other settings, but it just seemed like a party phrase. It seemed like a joke. Steve didn’t like to think about it that way most of the time.

Besides, until he met that person, Steve didn’t need to worry about it. Yeah, the phrase seemed like a high school one, but that didn’t stop him from dating.

If anything, it spurred him on because Steve knew he’d be settling down young. He might as well live a little first.

Then Steve experienced a kind of life that he never wanted to deal with again as monsters became real and everything he knew turned on its head. And even though she wasn’t his soulmate, he wanted a life of steadiness with Nancy Wheeler. He loved her. He did. She wasn’t his soulmate, but she could be his lifemate. He could choose her. He would choose her.

Nancy didn’t choose him.

Steve tried to pretend like it didn’t matter. He put his head down and tried to buckle through the rest of his shit show senior year. Then when it happened, he tried to pretend he hadn’t heard.

“All bow before the noble King Steve! May we peasants only dream of hair so luscious.”

Steve had almost tripped. Tommy hadn’t completely abandoned him yet and offered some snarky retort in answer, so Steve didn’t have to. It was probably one of the last times they interacted at school, but Steve was thankful for it. He hadn’t needed to answer for himself.

He hadn’t needed to say any words to Eddie Munson.

Steve wasn’t gay. He wasn’t. He liked women. He was satisfied with women. He’d never… God, but that was a lie, wasn’t it? He’d locked those feelings up so tight, not even Tommy at his most vulnerable could shake them loose. Steve could be more than happy with women. He had been ready to marry one. He’d never considered that his soulmate might be anything else.

It had to be a mistake. Surely someone else would say those words to him someday. Yeah, they were unique, but they didn’t have to be singular. Someone else could say them, someone more normal and less like Munson. They didn’t make any sense together anyway.

But nobody called him King Steve these days.

When he graduated and headed straight to a summer job, King Steve was washed up. Even his flirting at work didn’t hold the same potency anymore. His heart wasn’t in it.

Steve thought he did a pretty good job hiding things. He felt a little guilty hiding it from Robin too, but Steve’s soulmate wasn’t an issue. He never interacted with Eddie Munson in school. Surely things wouldn’t change now that he’d graduated and had even less reason to share space with someone like Eddie.

Of course, the kids had to ruin that.

…

In Eddie’s defense, he was dealing with a lot of stress at the moment.

As Dustin said way too many words way too quickly and Eddie only took in about half of them, Steve spoke, and it itched something in his brain.

“I’m cool, man, I’m cool.”

He was agreeing with Dustin, trying to make Eddie back down from his first fight response option in fight or flight. The words themselves didn’t do much, but they tickled something in his brain, made him feel like things were going to be okay. Eddie hadn’t fully decided if he trusted them yet, but his body had. He reacted before he could really think it through.

Steve staggered away to catch his breath, and Dustin made himself the center of Eddie’s attention.

It was fine. They moved on. Eddie focused on what was happening. It wasn’t until hours later when he was alone and absently rubbing the black bandana over his words that Eddie froze.

He ripped the cloth off and stared down at his wrist.

I’m cool, man, I’m cool.

He must be misremembering.

No way in hell could Eddie’s soulmate be Steve Fucking Harrington.

Eddie had always known his soulmate would be a dude. From a young age, he’d known it. He’d also learned pretty young to keep that information to himself when his own father shouted at him that it would be a girl, not a boy—that no son of his would be meant for a boy. Eddie had curled in on himself, cried, and promised it wouldn’t be. He’d lied. His mother had explained later why his father felt that way and why most people felt that way, but Eddie still hadn’t understood. He’d known he wouldn’t be wrong.

Even as he got older, Eddie felt more confident it would be a guy. Yeah, a girl could have called him man, but even beyond the words themselves, he’d always felt it. Now he started imagining the context.

As he started getting into metal music and sneaking into The Hideout—after promising Wayne he wouldn’t drink until at least 18 when the older man found out—Eddie imagined it happening at the tail end of a fight. Maybe he’d be the one breaking it up, and some badass stranger would hold up his hands and say those words.

Maybe it would be at a gay bar or just outside one, the guy responding to some bad innuendo on Eddie’s end.

Eddie had come up with tons of scenarios. Granted none of them had involved him holding a bottle to his soulmate’s throat, but they’d sure as hell never featured Steve Harrington either. What was the first thing Eddie had said to him? Had he talked to him directly and not just to the group?

Eddie had to be misremembering what Steve had said or else it was a fluke Steve had said his words. Otherwise Steve would have reacted when he spoke back. Surely this wasn’t the first time they’d talked to each other. Eddie knew he’d talked to Steve’s group at least a few (taunting) times in high school. There’s no way he and Steve had never spoken to each other. No way.

Just in case, Eddie tested him as they met up again in Steve’s damn makeout spot. There was something odd in Steve’s eyes as they spoke, but it wasn’t any kind of recognition. It wasn’t the widening of realizing Eddie had said that magical phrase. That settled it. Steve couldn’t be his soulmate.

But fuck if watching him bite into a demobat didn’t do something for Eddie.

…

“Okay, dingus, something’s up.”

Steve jerked his head, staring at Robin as he realized with a sense of horror that she’d caught him spacing off watching Eddie and Dustin prepare for their battle.

“We’re about to take on Venca directly. I think that gives me a good reason to act like something up.” Steve tried to shrug casually, but he knew she’d see right through it.

Robin narrowed her eyes. She had.

Steve sighed and started walking. He needed to have more privacy for this conversation.

Thankfully Robin didn’t push him yet, simply followed along at his side. The energy radiating from her was palpable, but for now, she held her questions in check. Steve appreciated that.

Eventually he’d pulled her far enough from the group that Steve slowed to a stop. He leaned back against a tree and took a deep breath.

“Spill,” Robin commanded.

Steve swallowed hard. “Tammy Thompson.”

Robin started at him for a moment. “Are you… Is this for real? Holy shit, Steve! I wondered if we’d have this conversation eventually, but I wasn’t expecting it so soon. I’m so proud of you! What made things click? Was it almost dying? Is it Eddie? Oh my god, why Eddie? Steve, I love you, but you have the weirdest taste in men.”

As she’d talked, Robin had thrown her arms around his waist, and Steve hugged her back. He took a deep breath against her head as he debated how to answer. Probably best to answer truthfully.

“Eddie’s my soulmate.”

Robin sprang back as if she’d been burned. “He’s what?”

“Don’t make me repeat it,” Steve all but pleaded.

Robin nodded. “Okay, I, uh… I won’t.” She stared off for a moment, and Steve swore he could physically see her processing.

“Okay, so this is a new revelation then. The, um, liking boys part. Do you want to talk about it?”

Eyes falling shut, Steve shook his head. “It’s not new. I mean I haven’t really let myself accept it, but it’s not really new.”

“Oh.” Robin paused, then swatted him across the arm.

Steve yelped in response, eyes going wide. “What was that for?”

“You let me bare my heart out about Tammy Thompson and liking girls when you knew you liked boys!”

“Well, yeah,” Steve said, shoulders rising defensively. “What was I supposed to say? ‘You like girls? Totally cool! By the way, my soulmate’s a dude, so I understand. Not that I’ve ever talked to him, but ya know.’”

Robin’s mouth fell open. “He didn’t know? You knew and he didn’t? How is that even possible?”

Steve shrugged as he shrunk back against the tree. It was digging into his side where his wound felt tender, but if nothing else, the sensation made him feel grounded. “We’ve been over that I was popular and… not always the nicest in high school. People talked at me sometimes. If I had the right people around, I never had to answer, even when it was something that probably required a response. His didn’t really, but Tommy handled it. I, um, didn’t have to say anything. That was probably good. I don’t think anything I would have said then would have been good.”

Figuring he owed her, Steve undid the snaps holding his leather wrist strap in place. He held out his hand. After only a second, Robin snatched it up to stare. She whistled. “He didn’t hold back, huh?”

He shook his head. “I’d never talked to him, but fuck, he hated me and everything I stood for. I couldn’t ruin that for him, even if I’d been ready to acknowledge it for myself. I wasn’t.”

Robin was silent for a while before eventually asking, “So even though you could have figured out the perfect first words, you never did it? You never talked to him?”

Steve looked at the ground as he admitted, “I avoided him. We didn’t have any classes together, so I just… figured out his schedule and purposefully stayed away for the rest of the year. It was easier than I thought it would be. I figured when graduation hit, I’d never have to worry about it ever again. How was I supposed to know we’d end up with shared custody of the dweebs?”

“You should have,” Robin said. “The universe has a sense of humor like that. Also a desire to help you find your person.”

Steve put an arm out, and Robin leaned into him automatically, her head on his shoulder. Last summer he wondered at how much easier his life would be with someone like Robin as his soulmate. They fit together so perfectly. Obviously he knew now she wasn’t interested in him, but platonically she could have been his soulmate. He wouldn’t have been disappointed.

“So what were your first words to him?” Robin asked.

“I don’t know.”

She stayed where she was but tilted her head up to look at him better. “What do you mean?”

“He hasn’t acknowledged it. Even when we had that little heart-to-heart in the Upside Down, he never mentioned it. Either he knows and doesn’t want to admit to having someone like me as a soulmate, or we aren’t soulmates and I didn’t say his words.”

“That can’t be,” Robin said. “I can’t accept that he’d say your words but you wouldn’t say his. Look, I know he’s a weird guy, but you’ve seen him with Dustin. And the two of you just seemed so in sync these last few days. Like now that I know, it makes so much sense. He’s your soulmate, Steve. He’s gotta be.”

Steve shrugged. “I don’t think he wants to be.”

“Maybe he was waiting for you to say something.”

The idea was so simple that Steve blinked a few times wrapping his mind around it.

“Think about it,” Robin continued. “He’s used to being an outsider and still sees you as one of the popular kids. I know you’ve changed since high school, but he’s stuck there. Hard to believe people can move on when you’re still going through that same drama. I bet he doesn’t know how you’re going to react and convinced himself as easily as you did that it couldn’t be possible or that he was being rejected. You have to talk to him.”

“I will,” Steve promised. “After. I’ll talk to him after.”

Later when they prepared to head in, Steve’s eyes flicked down automatically to Eddie’s wrist when he realized the other had moved the bandana covering it to his head. Unfortunately his sleeves covered it. That was fine. Now wasn’t the time for this conversation.

With the way Eddie held his eye, Steve wondered if he knew they needed to have it.

…

The pain lessened the longer it went on. So did the brightness. The Upside Down didn’t have much light anyway, but the way it floated behind Dustin’s head seemed to grow fainter. Dustin did too actually.

Maybe it was him. Maybe Eddie was the one fading.

He hadn’t run. He’d done what he’d needed to. He’d kept Dustin safe. He’d bought the others more time. They’d done it.

Dustin was still crying. He felt bad about that. As bad as he could right now when it hardly seemed to matter. The kid would move on. He was just Eddie. No one would miss him in the long run.

Other yelling surrounded him now. Other voices. Maybe their friends had arrived. That was nice. Dustin wasn’t going to be alone. That was good.

He felt the ghost of pressure against his skin, but Eddie paid it no attention as his vision faded out completely. This was it.

Another sensation. Movement. Eddie was floating.

No, not floating. Being carried. Someone was carrying him.

Then a voice. Eddie’d tuned them all out, but this one forced its way to his attention. Steve. Steve’s voice.

“You’re not dying on me, Munson. You’re not leaving me without a soulmate.”

…

Dustin hadn’t wanted to leave the hospital, and frankly neither had Steve. But they hadn’t been allowed back with Eddie anyway, so taking Dustin to check in with his mother had seemed like the best opportunity. She’d wrapped Dustin’s leg to keep him off it. Thankfully it was just a sprain and not a break, but Steve was there with her in concern about it. She’d also fussed over them both, forced them to shower, and lectured Steve about how improperly his wounds were being cared for.

“You should get those checked out at the hospital,” she admonished.

Steve shrugged. “I guess I could. We, uh, have a friend who’s there now.”

“It’s Eddie,” Dustin cut in. “He’s hurt really bad. It happened trying to protect me.”

And as though he was learning it himself for the first time, Dustin crumbled. It took joint hugs from Steve and Claudia to pull him back together again.

“You boys go,” she said gently, wiping a tear away from her son’s face.

Normally Dustin rolled his eyes and protested when he felt smothered, so Steve could tell just how badly he needed his mom’s attention right now.

“Take care of your friend.”

When they got to the hospital, it took some persuasion on Steve’s end to get them back to Eddie. He did not bring up his own injuries. They weren’t the doctors’ business. Besides, he didn’t want to get yanked into a room himself and leave Dustin stranded.

As they walked in, both froze, staring at the situation in front of them.

Eddie looked so small in the hospital bed: hair matted against his head, thin hospital gown instead of his usual layers, and a blank face void of all his typical expressiveness. Even in his sleep, Steve had expected his face big and expansive. The lack of it was frightening.

Equally horrifying was the handcuff binding him by the wrist to the hospital bed. The exposed wrist.

“This is ridiculous!” Dustin sputtered, backing up to glare at the officer posted in the hall outside his room. “He’s innocent! And anyway, he can’t go anywhere. He isn’t even awake yet, much less able to get up and move!”

The man just glared, and Steve took Dustin by the shoulders to pull him in. After a second of hesitation, he shut the door. Steve paused to see if the officer would open it again, but apparently their presence wasn’t considered a threat. With a sigh of relief, he headed further into the room.

“It’s so stupid,” Dustin muttered. “And no privacy! That’s not cool of them to force his words on display like that.”

Steve glanced up, eyes stuck on the exposed skin. Sure enough, they’d cuffed him palm up, exposing the words that rested against the veins there.

I’m cool, man, I’m cool. It stared up at him in his own handwriting, and Steve swallowed hard. Dustin was trying not to look as he glared instead at Eddie’s face, so Steve did the only thing that seemed logical. He took off his own cuff.

Dustin’s eyes widened as Steve fastened it around Eddie’s wrist below the cuff.

“But now yours is…”

Steve shrugged. “But it’s my choice at least.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, trying to ignore the way Dustin’s eyes lingered curiously. He couldn’t read it from there, certainly not with Eddie’s messy scrawl. But Steve had never let himself be this exposed about his mark before.

There were two chairs in the room, one on either side of the bed, so Steve sat down on the side with the handcuffs, trying not to look at it or the way Eddie’s hand hung limp. Rather than sitting down in the other chair, Dustin moved to the bottom of the bed and picked up the clipboard there to scan through it.

Steve snorted. “So his soulmark being exposed isn’t okay, but you violated privacy laws to read his chart is?”

“Eddie’s talkative about injuries,” Dustin replied without looking up. “He won’t care. That’s different, though. That’s something he’s private about.”

While Steve rolled his eyes at the justification, he didn’t argue. Dustin was probably right. Besides, he wanted to know. “What’s the verdict?”

“He’s fucked up,” Dustin said, all matter-of-fact.

“We knew that.”

Dustin shrugged and finally looked up from the charts. “Several of his organs were damaged. He had a collapsed lung. We knew he had a ton of blood loss.”

Steve grimaced. They knew that well. He’d thrown out his jacket because it wasn’t worth trying to get that much blood out. Claudia had thought she could help the rest of his clothing, so he’d let her keep them to try cleaning under the insistence that if she had to throw them out, he wouldn’t mind.

“How’s he going to be?”

Dustin bit his lip. “There’s a risk assessment here about the odds of him not waking up. They’re low… but high enough that they included them.”

Steve hadn’t even considered that as an option. “Other than that?”

“It doesn’t say for sure since it’s meant for the doctors and stuff, but I think he’ll be okay. It sounds like it anyway.”

The door opened, and Dustin slammed the chart back into its holder before whirling around. Steve might have found it comical if he wasn’t also worried about being yelled at.

When he turned around, Steve expected a doctor. It wasn’t.

It was an older man in a plaid jacket and work boots, eyes fixed not on them but on Eddie in the bed.

“You’re Wayne,” Dustin said.

His eyes snapped up to the boy before drifting toward Steve at the bedside, and Steve suddenly felt like they were both intruders.

He grunted. For a moment, no one moved.

Then Wayne lumbered into the room and around the bed to sink into the other chair. Steve noted he’d shut the door again behind him.

They continued not to speak as Wayne reached out and took Eddie’s hand in his, cupping it in such a way that hid it away. His head swayed slowly, taking in Eddie’s face, down what was visible of his body above the blankets, and up to the hand bound to the bedpost. The expression on his face hardened, then softened again at the cuff. He glanced at Steve, clearly knowing it wasn’t Eddie’s. Steve didn’t want to answer directly, but he shifted his hands on his lap enough that Wayne would be able to see the back of his bare wrist but not the words. Unlike Dustin, he might recognize the handwriting.

Eventually Wayne nodded. “You boys the ones who brought him here?”

“Yes sir,” Dustin said quickly. “Steve carried him. He…” He cut himself off. They haven’t been forced to sign NDAs yet, but they would be. Probably best not to read Wayne in if they can help it.

“More happened than they said did, didn’t it?” Wayne asked. “This wasn’t just some crazy kid and an earthquake. There’s more in this town.”

Steve and Dustin locked eyes. Eventually Steve nodded.

Dustin spoke slowly and carefully, “There’s only so much we can say. Hopefully Eddie will be able to tell you, depending on what the agreements look like this time.”

Wayne inhaled audibly through his nose.

Dustin flinched. He’d said too much. He’d made it clear it had happened before. “What I mean is… Yes, there’s more. That’s all we can say. But you need to know, sir… Eddie’s a hero. He saved my life. He saved all of us.”

The hands around Eddie’s squeeze tight. “That don’t surprise me,” Wayne said with a grunt. “He’s always been a brave boy.”

“He thought he wasn’t,” Steve said quietly. “He’s never realized how much he does and how much for others especially.”

“You’re the Harrington boy.”

Steve flinched automatically. Wayne didn’t quite make it an accusation, but it was a statement, not a question. That probably meant he knew Steve’s dad or at least knew of him. That wasn’t usually a good thing with people Steve had never been introduced to at dinner parties. “I am.” He almost asked why that was relevant, but Steve bit his tongue. It wouldn’t do to lash out at someone whose good side he wanted to stay on. Steve’s big mouth couldn’t get them kicked out.

“Hmm,” Wayne grunted, looking down at Eddie again. “Guess I wouldn’t have expected you to be the type to carry my boy to safety.”

“Steve’s more than his name.” Unlike Steve, Dustin sounded downright defensive.

Shooting him a look, Steve tried to convey that it was fine. “With all due respect, I’m not my father.”

Wayne’s eyes stayed on Eddie. “I guess that’s true all around.”

After a beat of silence, Steve stood. He kept his hand angled to keep his words hidden. “Dustin, why don’t we head down to the cafeteria.”

Dustin opened his mouth to argue, but Steve cut him off. He could see the relief on Wayne’s face for some alone time.

“We’ll come back up after. But your mom’ll kill me if I don’t keep you fed. Let’s go see what they’ve got. Maybe we’ll see if Max is allowed visitors yet.”

After a few seconds, Dustin nodded. “Okay, yeah, we can do that. We’ll be back, Mr. Munson!” He hesitated before adding, “Bye Eddie!”

With a lump in his throat, Steve followed him toward the door. He paused once to look back. Eddie still seemed so small. But he was in good hands.

…

Eddie had always been a heavy sleeper. He didn’t wake up easily, and as he slowly became aware of the world around him, it took a while to realize things weren’t quite normal. The blankets covering him were too orderly to be his at home. The pillow under his head felt plumper. And there were places on his body that felt tight. Wrong.

As he lifted a hand to drag it across the blankets and touch his side, Eddie heard a sharp intake of breath next to him. That was what finally got him to open his eyes.

He blinked away the blurriness, Steve coming into focus as he leaned forward from a plastic chair next to the bed.

“You’re awake,” Steve breathed.

Eddie opened his mouth to respond, but a sudden awareness of his body forced out a groan instead. Jesus, everything hurt.

A hand touched his forehead, and Eddie blinked a few times trying to understand how Steve had suddenly gotten so much closer.

Almost as if he too had just realized he’d done it, Steve sank back into his chair. “I, um— What hurts? What can I do? I can call a nurse if you need pain meds or something. Dustin’ll be annoyed if you fall asleep before he gets back here, but he can live. Max woke up yesterday. All the kids are with her. They’re having a moment or whatever. It’s good. They need it. They need to pretend they’re normal kids, even if it is in a hospital room.”

Eddie had never heard Steve say so much at one time. He seemed nervous, rambling. “You sound like Robin.”

The flush that spread over his skin was beautiful to look at. Eddie couldn’t even feel bad when he looked like that.

“Yeah, well, what do you say to someone who hasn’t been awake in three days?”

Eddie’s eyes widened. “It’s been that long?”

Steve nodded, face growing stony. “Yeah, Wayne was hoping to be here when you woke up, but he’s at work. We promised we wouldn’t leave you alone. You, um… You almost died.”

Eddie thought back. He didn’t have much, just flashes, bits, and pieces. Bits and pieces of him missing. “I kind of remember that.” Words. Steve admitting that thing that neither of them was talking about yet.

His eyes snapped down to Steve’s wrist. His blood went cold as he found it wrapped in blue gauze.

“You’re hurt.”

Steve shrugged. “No more than I was before. It’s fine. Nancy stole some supplies from the closet down the hall. She’s been changing my bandages when it seems like they need it. I didn’t want to risk them making me stay here. The kids need rides, and you…” His face colored again. “You couldn’t be left alone.”

Eddie reached for Steve’s wrist, pausing as he realized his own was encircled in a leather cuff that definitely wasn’t his. His eyes flicked up to Steve’s.

Realization dawned as Steve tugged at the gauze. “I, uh, talked a nurse into giving me a little bit of it for this. Yours was… We couldn’t let them do that to you. You were, um, cuffed when we got here. They know it wasn’t you! Hopper’s back. He’s alive. He helped figure out a cover story. I can’t tell you all the details now, but just know you’re safe. You’re not going to be blamed, not by the police at least.”

That was a lot to take in, but Steve didn’t pause yet.

“Those fucking doctors and cops didn’t give a shit if your mark was on display. Dustin was so upset. And I couldn’t let them do that. That’s yours. Only you need to know.”

Steve looked away, staring hard at his own hands in his lap.

He wasn’t the only one who knew, though, was he? Steve knew. They both knew.

Eddie swallowed hard. It was time to prove it. Slowly he reached out to grab hold of the snaps keeping the cuff in place.

Steve’s eyes darted from the cuff to his face to his cuff again. They were doing this.

The snaps came undone easily enough, and Eddie let it fall to the bed. The words he’d seen his whole life stood stark against his skin. Steve started to reach, then stopped himself. They knew. They didn’t have to take a moment and pretend it was new information.

Hoping to cut the tension, Eddie joked, “How did we never talk in high school?”

Instead of laughing, Steve’s face filled with shame. “Well, how did I never talk back might be the better question?”

Eddie straightened up as best he could in the hospital bed, ignoring the pain in his sides as he watched Steve reach for the tape around his wrist. Soon Eddie stared down at his own scrawl, mouth falling open as he tried to process.

“I said that to you in high school?”

Steve nodded. “In the hall one day. I— I’m sorry I didn’t talk back. I wasn’t… You wouldn’t have wanted me to back then.”

Eddie swallowed hard. No wonder Steve hadn’t acknowledged anything in the boathouse. It would have been chaotic enough without the extra baggage. But if Steve had known for over a year?

“Did you not want me?” he asked before he could think better of it. Eddie tried to cover, tried to make it a joke. “I mean I know I’m a lot. It takes a special person to handle all this. I can see why you thought you weren’t qualified.”

Steve hook his head, but he never looked away. Jesus Christ, that gaze had some intensity. “I wasn’t ready to accept that I could like men. It wasn’t anything personal against you, although I guess since it was you, that made it easier to try and deny. Then I rationalized it by deciding you weren’t the kind of person who would want someone like me anyway. I mean I represented pretty much everything you hated. I figured it was for the best.”

“Best is with you.” Eddie refused to be embarrassed by such an earnest line as he reached forward for Steve’s hand. The way Steve’s face lit up made it well worth it. “I guess I get it. We weren’t meant for each other yet then. But I guess if you needed time to process it, you got to know. That’s… That’s crazy. I will admit to being an occasional skeptic of the universe and all that, but she really did right by us, huh?”

Steve laughed and squeezed Eddie’s hand. “I guess it did.”

Silence fell between them, but the air was a contented one, not awkward, as they looked at each other. Every once in a while, Eddie squeezed Steve’s hand, and Steve squeezed it back.

“Can I kiss you?” Eddie eventually asked, shy in a way he usually wasn’t. But this was his soulmate. He needed to do things right, and that was hard when he couldn’t even lean forward of his own accord right now.

Steve got the message, shifting closer to lean over the bed even as he nodded. His free hand came up to cup Eddie’s jaw. They stayed like that for a moment, just watching the other. Then Steve closed the distance.

Eddie’s eyes fell closed as he felt Steve’s thumb swipe over his cheek. Soon soft lips pressed against his. Gentler than Eddie had expected, Steve coaxed his mouth open. Slow and tender weren’t words Eddie would typically associate with a kiss this intense, this filthy. His own free hand came up to clutch at Steve’s shoulder. Their intertwined hands squeezed so tightly, Eddie wondered if Steve’s nails would leave marks on the back of his hand.

Eventually they broke apart, breathing hard as Steve stayed mere inches away.

Never to them, Eddie’s heart rate monitor gave away everything about how he was feeling.

Steve let out a chuckle, and Eddie started laughing harder. Steve leaned in to press one last kiss against the corner of Eddie’s open mouth before he sat back down in his chair.

Eddie sighed dramatically, staring off into the middle distance for effect. “King Steve indeed. My soulmate is an excellent kisser.”

Steve rolled his eyes, but his smile and the way his hand tightened on Eddie’s gave away his amusement. “Yeah, well, you’re not so bad yourself, Munson.”

“Oh Stevie,” Eddie cooed. “I think we’re past last names, don’t you?”

“Eddie,” he said, raising both brows.

“Perfect.”

Eddie lifted their joined hands to coax Steve forward again, but the door opened instead.

Steve was sitting facing the door, so nothing blocked their little hand-holding moment from the gaggle of children at the door.

Eddie glanced at the kids, then Steve, whose eyes had gone wide.

“What are you…” Dustin trailed off as he took in their bare wrists. He glanced at Eddie’s face, then Steve’s. “Holy shit!”

Eddie winced at his volume.

That seemed to be enough to spur Steve into action. He sat up straighter and leveled his most withering stare in the kids’ direction. “Eddie just woke up. You need to keep your voice down, or I’m kicking you out, Henderson.”

“Who put you in charge?” Dustin shot back automatically, but he took a few steps into the room.

“I did,” Eddie said. His voice was gravelly, and he planned to blame lack of use, not Steve’s proximity.

“We see that,” Lucas said with a snort as he marched forward to lay claim to the other chair in the room.

Mike rolled his eyes and leaned against the wall. “Seriously? We’re gone for like two hours, and this happens? How is that even possible? You’ve already talked to each other. You guys don’t make any sense together!”

“Mike,” Dustin warned and glanced meaningfully at the fourth boy, who was gently shutting the door. Based on the bowl cut, Eddie assumed this was the infamous Will.

“What? No!” Mike protested. “It’s not because they’re both guys! It’s because they’re them!”

“Whatever,” Lucas said. “Happy for you guys.”

“Thank you, Lucas,” Steve said. He glared at the other three, as though daring them to say something.

“I think it’s really sweet.” Will crept further into the room and paused at the end of Eddie’s bed.

“Will, right?” Eddie asked.

He nodded shyly.

“I’m told you’re a great DM.”

Will’s face lit up. “They said that?” He glanced around the room, and all three shrugged in agreement at various levels of sheepishness. “Thanks.”

Steve looked at him for a moment. “I don’t suppose you took up swimming in California, did you?”

Will shook his head.

Steve sighed glumly and looked toward Lucas. “Well, I got one.”

Lucas let out a bark of laughter as Dustin said, “Hey!” very indignantly.

Eddie laughed too and squeezed Steve’s hand.

Their eyes met again, and as a silent moment passed between them, Mike let out a fake retching sound.

“Shut up, Mike,” Will said as he sat down at the end of the bed.

“Yeah, Mike,” Dustin repeated and he moved over to sprawl on top of Lucas in the chair.

Mike rolled his eyes but he came forward to join Will at the foot of the bed.

“El still up with Max?” Steve asked.

The boys all nodded. “Yeah,” Dustin said. “Nancy and Robin should be here soon. They were going to stop by Gareth’s on the way by. My mom said he called the house to check in on everything, so they were going to read him in on what they could.”

Steve made a noise of understanding. “He’s going to be confused as shit. That’s fine. It’s normal.”

“Normal?” Eddie repeated. “How is any of this normal?”

“It’s a new normal,” Steve said, giving his hand another squeeze. “You’ll get used to it, babe.”

And even as the boys around them protested the word babe being applied to Eddie around their precious ears, he wished he had the strength to lean forward and kiss Steve right now, their precious eyes be damned.

It was fine. They’d have plenty of opportunity later when the teens all left.

Based on the look in Steve’s eye, he was thinking the same thing.

#steddie Valentine’s fic exchange #stranger things fanfiction #steddie #steddie fanfic #steve harrington #eddie munson #my writing #my fanfic

[wandaluvstacos]

Chapter 44 of Good Investment is now up on my Patreon!

Good Investment is available at the $5/month tier. People who pledge $5 a month have access to not only Good Investment but The Sponsors series (ongoing), Pretty Things (complete), May the Blood Run Pure (complete), and Kept Man (complete), along with the $1/month tier books, the Reflections trilogy (ongoing) and The Halfwife (ongoing).

Adri Schvaneveldt has always felt split between two worlds. In one world, they are the adopted child of a large and conservative Mormon family. In another, she is the CEO of a burgeoning fashion empire that pushes boundaries. But in order to be the latter, Adri first has to find the funding. After gaining a hefty following as a social media influencer/model, Adri has the potential customers– if they can get a reliable production model pounded out. And that means a bit of groveling at the feet of investors, most of who have never even heard the term “non-binary”.

But Adri lucks out with Gideon Snow, whose youth and open mind bring much needed funds to make Adri’s dream of diverse, accessible fashion a reality. Of course, lifting a newborn company to its feet is no small task, and late nights drive Adri to occasional stays at Gideon’s nearby house, where their relationship begins stretching beyond business. Adri knows they can’t put an entire business venture at risk for the turbulent whims of their heart. But reason doesn’t always win out.

Excerpt:

   “Well, she was very upset when she spoke to me—crying, even. She wanted me to call you and ‘talk sense to you’. Those were her words. I mentioned to her that I had met you and Adri at Solitude and then that got her all worked up again. She thinks I’m keeping secrets from her.”

            “Huh, wonder why you would do that,” Gideon muttered. “Do you think she’s told the rest of the family?”

            “She’s told Dad. When they were over for dinner and to see the kids, he was very grumpy and snippy with Mom. You know how he gets.”

            Gideon could imagine. God, he was so glad he didn’t live in Utah anymore. He had to give his sister credit for being willing to put up with it. She had kids, so it made sense she wanted their grandparents in the picture. Gideon often wondered if he was justified for avoiding them. They’d been decent parents to grow up with, and they’d supported him financially when he was abroad in Europe doing dumb shit. His father had loaned him money to start the business whose sale now gave Gideon his early retirement. He wouldn’t be here without them. And yet, the minute he’d graduated high school, he’d never looked back. Only after he’d partied his way through a few years abroad did he realize that hey, maybe he’d been a little fucked up by his upbringing. When he would rather be hungover and penniless on some Belgian pothead’s couch than in his parents’ big gorgeous house at the foot of the Wasatch Mountains, maybe his childhood wasn’t as idyllic as he liked to believe. It was hard to explain why there was such resentment in him. Only Adri and a few others seemed to get it.

            “What do you want me to tell Mom?” Ada asked when Gideon didn’t respond for a moment.

            “Tell her that I’m not speaking to anyone unless they are willing to respect me and my partner.”

            “What would that entail?”

            “It would mean not calling Adri a man, or using him pronouns. That’s probably the baseline. They can call me gay if they want; I really don’t care. It’s Adri I’m a stickler about.”

              “I don’t think Mom will do that.”  

            “Then we have nothing to discuss.”

            “Gideon…” Ada sighed again. “She’s our mom. You can’t just not talk to her.”

            “Sure I can. Watch me.”

#Good Investment #original fiction #patreon #update #excerpt #my writing

[imaginedreamwrite]

Christmas countdown day 13:

Senator Steve and intern reader (BOC)

She took Steve to her family's Christmas party. It was just a gathering at her parents ranch and Steve has a time of his life with her family. You can make them get ready for the party in her childhood bedroom 😉 sweet and intimate at the same time. Now that they have kissed, there'd be more sexual tension between them.

Christmas Countdown day 13 — Attend a Christmas party

“You didn’t have to come to this,” you’re speaking from behind the privacy screen in your bedroom, the little unique item that speaks to the teenage years of your life that still stands in your childhood bedroom, “as Senator and future president I’m sure you have better things to do.”

Steve’s been busy flicking through your yearbook while he waits for you to get dressed, and he finds himself admiring who you were before you left home as much as he admired and loves you now. Even in highschool in a small town, you had a bleeding heart with the drive to help change the world. You’d been in leadership club and you helped run a few charity sales at your school, all local stuff that wouldn’t have meant anything to anyone outside of the town limits.

“Better things to do than spend time with your parents? And your dad’s best friend? Better things to do than drink cheap beer and pop-“ Steve raises his head and finds himself unable to breathe when you step around the corner.

Its not even anything significant or dazzling, its a plaid skirt and a red silk top that’s tucked into the waist of your skirt. Its not anything high class or designer, nothing that would have cost you or Steve thousands of dollars, and yet it stuns him.

You adjust the waist while he’s staring, mindlessly taking in every element of this moment so he can look back at it with unrestricted eyes. You are breathtaking, you are beyond measurable words.

You make feel Steve blissfully young again.

“-my parents have this tradition of hiding a pickle, fake of course, in the Christmas tree and whoever finds it first gets to open a present.” Steve only realizes that you’ve been talking to him when you step before him.

“God, you’re beautiful.” He stands, the distance absolutely minimal between you. “You are just…”

He can’t speak, he can’t find the words to say, so instead he lets his actions speak for him. He lets his lips dance and graze against your flesh as he pulls you closer and pours every conceivable emotion into that kiss.

He allows his thoughts to be translated to the way his hands hold you, to the light in his eyes that search your own when he has to give you air. Steve let’s the steady thrush of silence and the radiating tension that coils in both of you like hot, heady iron.

“There is no where else I would rather be.” He slips a hand down your side around to your back, holding you steady as he drops his lips to the crook of your neck and breathes you in.

“Good, because you’re going to be the best thing about this party.” You lean into him, you kiss him back with just as much hunger and need, hoping for a few more minutes that get interrupted by the door opening.

“You may be consenting adults but I still want this door open.” Your stepdad grins brightly, teasing you and the senator like you’re nothing but horny kids.

“Dad-“ you groan and turn on your heel, staring down your dad as his grins widens.

“You knew the rules then, you know the rules now.” He shifts his gaze to Steve and clicks his tongue against his teeth. “Wanna grab a beer, Steve?”

“Yeah, thank you.” Steve winks at you in passing, stealing one last kiss before he leaves and joins the rest of the party.

#imaginedreamwrite’s christmas countdown #imaginedreamwrite’s countdown to christmas #Christmas countdown day 13 #countdown to Christmas Day 13 #breach of contract series: Christmas countdown day 13

[winderlylandchime]

(1/2)The man came inside after a cigarette break, jumped right into 2x14, saw Justin dancing on the bar, paused the episode and went outside for another smoke. So i think he is handling it well. He is now back and his immediate reaction is ‘THIS IS BULLSHIT! Why are they making him do this, i know its his own doing BUT COME ON.. OH SO THEY KNOW WHAT HAPPENED? My dudes, my bros, my mens..why aren’t we throwing punches yet?..oh Brian is pissed off! Why doesnt he say something? what is that freak of a fuck giving him? JUSTIN DONT TAKE ANY DRUGS FROM HIM’ *pauses the tv on Brian* ‘see the problem is that he looks very pretty when he is in a bad mood’ *throws his hands up in the air* ‘PICKLE GUY!!!!!!!! Oh pickle guy and Emy are going on a world trip!! I can’t wait! Theyre gonna have so much fun…oh she’s still being a bitch to Ben? Man fuck her, i thought she was better with him?’…’oh Brian knows about his classes! I swear i am totally normal about this! But like, i didnt even know my own classes but Brian knows Justins? Oh Brian is angry.. good for him! I like this! I mean I don’t like the Justin part but i do like Brian being all for his education and shit. That’s nice! I want more of that but less of that other shit.’ ‘I thought we wrapped up with cop bullshit? Why the hell is he here? Yeah, what are you doing her- SAY WHAT NOW? HE ASKED WHAT NOW? exactly debbie! Tell him! WE *points to her and himself* do not date or fuck cops!’ He high fived debbie on tv bc he’s happy she turned doen the cop..’brian actually showed up for Emmetts going away at work? I LOVE EMY AND BRI BRI!!! Oh for fucks sake justin! Just take the fucking money! You arent doing a very good job at looking out for yourself right now, that man is an evil evil little freak! And Brian clearly knows it!’ And the scene with Vic and Debbie is up. ‘exactly Debbie, he is a homophobe!! VIC MY BOY WHAT? HE DIDNT MAKE A TINY JOKE HE MADE A BAD JOKE! He doesnt need enlightening, what he needs is my foot so far up his ass his own mom can feel it! Why is vic being dumb? At least debbie knows he’s a homophobe. VIC STOP THIS MADNESS!’ ‘Oh look Justin remembered he has a school! Its Brian! I like this, i would like more of them hanging out. Justin doing his homework and Brian being with him. AFTER HOURS PARTY?! Absolutely not! Oh Brian knows this is bad news. Brian please stop this madness! *pauses tv on Justin* dude, me and Brian are trying so hard to get to you and you won’t listen to either one of us and honestly, it’s not cute!’ And now he is groaning loudly because Debbie is going on a date. ‘The problem i have is, this would be a cute moment if he wasn’t a…you know *said in a very disapproving way* a cop. OH THE FUCKING IRONY OF MIKE AND OH MY FUCKING GOD I DIDNT EVEN REALIZE IT OH MY GOD OH MY GOD SHE IS A HYPOCRITE OF A WHOLE NEW LEVEL. Oh fuck her times 70.’ And now the plane scene is up and i am not ready ‘AHHH PICKLE GUY AND EMY ARE ON A TRIP!! I need them to give me a cute little montage of them having cute moments all over the world! Like some italian music that’s upbeat and just random snapshots of them! YES I WANT THAT! Ohhhh they are gonna get down and dirty in the bathroom!! Gross but have fun babies, you deserve it!’ He is currently scoffing at everything Carl says ‘Debbie.. come on. You cant even look at Ben and say hi to him and you see nothing wrong with Car- oh thats why she said into him, theyre the same. Assholes!’ I am not ready for whats about to happen, i always get sad but i am not ready for this. ‘Oh look at them going at it! Hell yeah Pickle Guy and Emy live your best lif-*he is genuinely on the verge of tears* pickle guy?..pickle..? Is he. noooooooooooo PICKLE GUY! *he is actually crying at this point* PICKLE GUY NO! What about the world trip! And italy! And cute montage! Pickle’ He is genuinely sad and honestly same.

OH POOR BROTHER ANON, mourning the loss of Pickle Man (do not let him eat a pickle in his memory).

Your brother is right - We Do Not Fuck Cops in this house. ACAB. He’s going to be very disappointed in Debbie (again)

I love that he and Brian are now a team trying to get Justin to listen to reason.

Okay… let’s get to the next one because a couple of us have been wondering how Brother Anon was going to respond to Justin topping…

#ask winderlylandchime #dear sweet anon #queer as folk #a straight man watches qaf us 2000 in the year of our lord 2023

[skyler10fic]

To Have and to Hold: Ch. 3 Taste of Success

By Skyler10

Read on Ao3

---------------

Daisy had a slow week at work and was able to launch a simple wedding website by the following weekend. One page included their story, ending with their coincidentally mutual Christmas proposal. She uploaded photos of the two of them at various stages of their relationship and one of their rings. Daisy remembered with a start that they hadn’t taken engagement photos. Oh well, that shoot could come later even if they just had a friend take a few on a nice day. On the location page, she added a few photos of the chapel she had taken on their visit and typed its address. The registry page would have to stay blank for the moment. Eventually, she’d make a digital RSVP option as well, but before they could decide on and send invitations, they needed to decide on a caterer to know if there was a meal option—and whether they wanted a meal at all or just hors d’oeuvres. 

There were still so many decisions to make. Late one night as she stressed about their long to-do list, Carol reminded her that not every conversation they had at the end of the day had to be wedding choices and researching their options. They needed to also just relax together and talk about other things. Carol had said it gently, trying to avoid a fight, but Daisy surprised her by being relieved at the reminder. They had time. Not much for some things, but enough to still live their lives outside of planning and decision-making.  

They decided to keep the wedding itself small, and the wedding party even smaller. Carol’s lifelong best friend, Maria, would be her bridesmaid with her young daughter, Monica, as flower girl. Daisy’s bridesmaid would be Jemma, with her husband, Fitz, on piano and Elena on violin playing, “She Keeps Me Warm” by Mary Lambert.

“But just the two instruments,” Daisy clarified. “No karaoke track cheese, please.” Which Fitz teased her relentlessly about, especially saying that he was going to program a drum kit. Daisy reminded him she had earned her black belt before graduating high school, and that put an end to the teasing… for a while. 

The question of who would walk them down the aisle came up during a video call with Daisy’s parents, during which Phil offered both arms if they wanted to walk down together, but Carol reassured him that her Aunt Wendy would do it. Melinda would walk down first, escorting her parents to their seats, then Wendy and Carol, and then Phil and Daisy. 

Elena’s husband, Mack, was ordained as a minister in their small, progressive church, so he volunteered to officiate. And Elena would help their adorable toddler son, Alfie Jr., in his ringbearer duties. 

That left the people they would need to hire, including catering for the reception, a bakery for the cake, and a photographer. 

—----------

The second Saturday in March, they had a cake tasting at a small but renowned bakery across town. Daisy shoved her laptop into her bag as Carol pulled the car into the bakery’s parking lot.

“Okay, we only have one shot if this is the one we go with, so we have to each pick our top three possibilities, not just what sounds good today,” Daisy said like she was a coach at timeout. 

They got out of the car and walked up to the bakery, but before they went inside, Carol pulled Daisy to the side of the door.

“Hey, let’s enjoy this okay?” She took Daisy’s hand. “It’s a cake tasting! Possibly the most fun part of wedding planning. Just breathe with me, okay?”

Daisy took in deep breaths, as instructed. “Right. You’re right. It’s just cake.” She turned and saw a sample wedding cake in the window with two grooms. “Oh thank god.” 

Carol noticed too. “Is that what you were really stressed about?” 

“Well!” Daisy shrugged. “It’s been in the news for years with the courts and stuff, I just, I don’t know, didn’t want to get yelled at when they realize I’m not your bridesmaid or something.” 

Carol squeezed Daisy’s hand. “I promise. I made sure every bakery I called knew this wedding cake is going to have two little brides on it and they were fine.” She gestured to the two-groom cake on display. “Can we go try sample bites of cake now?” 

“Yes, please,” Daisy said in a bashful voice. Carol opened the door and they went in, determined to enjoy the moment. 

And they did, for the most part. A few of the flavors were not to their taste.

“Hm.” Daisy scrunched her nose. “Not that one, sorry.”

Carol’s eyes widened as she put a different flavor in her mouth. “Ooo! This one.” She pointed with her fork and then had a different idea. “Here.” She put a bite on her fork and lifted it to feed it to Daisy. Daisy helped guide Carol’s hand so they didn’t make a mess. 

“Oh! Wow. Yes.” Daisy reacted once she’d had a moment to taste it. “That might be the one?” 

Carol gave her an “I told you so” look. “I think I could eat that every day and not get tired of it.”   

The baker, a middle-aged man with twinkling dark eyes, returned just in time to see their impressed reaction. He clapped his hands once and inquired, “How are we doing over here, ladies? Have we found a winner?” 

Carol and Daisy exchanged glances and both said, “Yes” at once. 

“What is this one?” Daisy asked. 

“Ah, that flavor is called Happy Ever After. It’s a vanilla with a hint of raspberry and almond and my secret ingredient.” 

Carol took this as a challenge. She leaned her elbows on the counter and narrowed her eyes. “Hmm, butter?”  

The baker laughed and winked. “That’s no secret. Plenty of real butter here. And our traditional recipe buttercream, also with a special ingredient, of course.” 

Carol couldn’t tell whether there really was a secret to the buttercream or if he was just teasing her, so she just nodded. “Ah. Of course.”

“Now.” The baker plopped a heavy photo album on the counter. “Let’s talk design.” 

None of the designs were exactly what Daisy had been picturing so she showed him some photos on her laptop, and he flipped to a different section. In 20 minutes, they had exactly what they wanted all planned out. The baker took notes on each part, from flavor to decoration to a topper. As it turned out, the little brides cake topper would be metaphorical, as they decided on a cascade of flowers wrapping from the top down around the sides of the three small tiers and to the base. 

“And what are your colors?” the baker asked, writing and sketching on his notes. When they hesitated, he looked up. 

Daisy blurted out, “Lavender, silver, navy, and gold.” She looked to Carol for approval. 

“Yeah!” Carol blinked in awe at how easy that was. “That was the palette I picked, though. Are you sure?”  

The baker turned his sketch around so they could imagine the colors on it. 

“I’m sure.” Daisy placed her hand on Carol’s on the counter to assure her it really was what she wanted too. “It’s us.” 

“Excellent,” the baker hummed, more to his notes than to them, lost in his artistic visions. 

And so that was two decisions down, with a million more to go. 

As Daisy and Carol left the bakery, Daisy’s phone rang. 

“Hey, is this Daisy Coulson?” a young woman’s voice asked. 

“That’s me,” Daisy answered as she got in the car and closed the door. “How can I help you?” 

Carol waited to start the car until Daisy could tell her what was happening. Daisy noticed and put the call on speaker.  

“This is Nadia, from Delights Catering. I know this is super last minute, and I told you before that we didn’t have any tasting spots open today, but, um, we’ve had an opening.” 

Daisy picked up on her stress. “Rough day?” 

Nadia admitted, “Not as rough for me as for the couple whose whole wedding party got the flu last night and just now called to cancel. But their order of nearly everything on the menu is almost done, and it might as well be used. We’ll have everything ready if you can be here in the next half hour. And bring family or your wedding party if you want. We’re prepped for 100 over here. And I’ve only got five other couples left on my list to call.” 

Daisy raised her eyebrows in silent question to Carol who nodded enthusiastically. It was past lunchtime and they were getting hungry. Those little cake samples hadn’t been filling. 

“Sure thing, Nadia. We’ll be right over.” Daisy programmed the address of the convention center the catering company operated out of into Carol’s phone and used her own to send a group text to the wedding party, at least their friends in town. Phil and Melinda were too far away, but she sent them a separate text updating them on the cake and colors decision and telling them they were headed over to the caterer. 

Melinda sent back a thumbs up, a sunglasses smiley face, and a cake emoji. Phil sent a gif that said Great Work! and said to let them know how the menu tasting went. 

Carol neared the exit and realized they hadn’t ever decided on what time of day the wedding would be exactly, which would determine what food they decided on from Delights Catering’s menu. 

“We have the venue all day,” Carol reasoned, “so it would be up to us.” 

“What if…” Daisy hesitated to say it, as unromantic as it was. “What if we see what Nadia has on the menu and pricing, and that determines the timing?” 

“Okay, besides food though, when are you picturing this? Evening ceremony with dinner and a reception where we dance into the night? Or more like early afternoon so we can see the park around the chapel with an outdoor reception? I could go either way.” 

“Before I answer that, here’s another factor.” Daisy paused to point to the side street Carol needed to turn down. “Do we want to leave for our honeymoon that night or spend our wedding night at home and then leave the next day? And also, where are we going?” 

“Or, we could stay downtown in a fancy hotel honeymoon suite, so we wouldn’t be far from the airport, and then leave the next day. To wherever.” 

“Yes! Oh. I like that.” Daisy added “find honeymoon suite and destination” to her to-do list. 

Nadia’s cooking and her team’s friendly service didn’t make the decision easy. The basic dinner menu, especially for a small wedding with their approximate guest list number, was definitively in their budget, and the hors d’oeuvres were also delicious. 

“Okay, this lemon pepper chicken, though,” Daisy said to the table, but mostly Carol. 

“And this pasta is amazing.” Carol picked up the menu to see what it was called. “Pasta Barbara.” 

A blonde woman at the table observed them with an amused smile. 

Daisy noticed and caught her eye. “Is it that obvious we are new to this?” 

“No, no,” the woman assured. “It’s just a new menu item inspired by an idea I had. I’m Barbara. Or, well, everyone calls me Bobbi.” 

Carol and Daisy introduced themselves as well. 

The man next to Bobbi spoke up with an English accent. “And you can call me Hunter.”

Carol finished her pasta and put down her fork. “Are you two getting married soon?” 

Bobbi and Hunter laughed. Bobbi explained, “We’ve been married.”

“And divorced,” Hunter added. 

“And married again,” Bobbi concluded. “Now we do the wedding thing professionally. We’re photographers, and I got in the decorating and floral business so I could have more input on the backgrounds and settings for the photos. The photos are what hold your memories of your day for generations to come, so I take it pretty seriously.” 

“And I carry all the equipment.” Hunter smirked. 

Bobbi rolled her eyes. “And he shoots the video. We’re a team. And are you two here to plan a wedding or just friends of Nadia’s called in to help with leftovers?”

Carol slipped an arm loosely around Daisy’s shoulder as Daisy replied, “Planning our wedding. But it’s coming up pretty quick, so we have a lot of decisions to make.” 

Carol looked to Daisy and then back at Bobbi. “We’re actually looking for everything you said you did. We’ve got this great wedding chapel through the parks department on a pond, so it’s a great setting, but the chapel itself is bare bones plain inside.” 

“And the reception hall is just a big empty room, basically,” Daisy explained.

“So,” Bobbi jumped in. “You need a photographer who could do outdoor shots in the park and indoor, and you need a decorator and florist who could handle a small wedding on a budget?” 

Hunter relaxed back in his chair, looking even cockier as Bobbi read their situation exactly. Daisy could tell that though he hid it behind bravado, he was smitten with his wife and partner. 

“Yeah, that’s it exactly.” Daisy blinked in surprise at fate landing them at this table with the very people they needed to meet. “You can do all that?” 

Hunter raised his glass to her. “That’s our specialty.” 

“Well, I contract out with florists, but I’d handle all the details.” Bobbi searched in her purse and pulled something small out. “Here’s our card.” 

She handed over a business card with their logo, website, phone, and email address. 

“Take a look, rates are all online, and we can work something out,” Hunter said.

“Thank you,” Carol replied. “This is a huge help.” 

Bobbi shrugged. “It’s why we’re here. Nadia helps us and we help her. The wedding business can be pretty cutthroat, all about the right connections, so we formed our little alliance with those we like to work with. She gets the job done right every time, and we get better photos when everyone is fed and happy.” 

Daisy hadn’t considered this, but it was smart. Bobbi’s dedication to her craft to the point that she’d expanded into other areas, formed networks, and knew something about people impressed Daisy before she’d even seen a single photo. And Daisy suspected, if Bobbi had chosen Hunter not only as her husband but business partner, he must be good at his part as well to earn that smug look on his face as he glanced around the room searching for more couples to introduce themselves to. 

Nadia made her way over to their table. “How are we doing, Daisy and Carol? I see you’ve met my friends, Bobbi and Hunter?”

“They were just telling us about their business,” Carol informed her. “Also, I have to tell you, I love this pasta.” 

“And the chicken,” Daisy reminded her. “We have to have the chicken.” 

Nadia got out her notepad. “Okay, so that’s a dinner menu then, we’ve decided?” 

Bobbi spoke up. “Definitely do dinner. Hors d’oeuvres are great, but—no offense, Nadia—it’s easy for people to get skipped over or miss out on their favorites, or they feel like they are chasing plates around if you have wandering waiters.” 

Hunter added, “And if you do a buffet, people wonder why not just do the real food.”

Nadia said, “It’s up to you two, though, and time of day I know was still a question.” 

Daisy and Carol decided together silently, and Carol said aloud, “Dinner, for sure.” 

Nadia wrote down their picks from the menu and promised to follow up on Monday more formally. She called to one of her assistants, who brought them to-go bags of leftovers to take home. It was far too much food for the two of them, so they texted Jemma and Fitz to come over for dinner that night. 

—-------- 

After dinner that night, the four friends moved to the living room and settled in front of the TV after dinner. Daisy sat on the couch near the end table with her laptop and started it up. 

“Mmm wow,” Jemma groaned, “that pasta was so good but now I’m so full.” Fitz patted her hand as he settled in next to her on the couch. 

“Right?” Carol agreed as she set up the TV so Daisy could cast her laptop screen to it. Carol plopped into their Papasan chair and set a pillow on her lap so she could write their impressions of Bobbi and Hunter’s skills on her tablet.

“Ready!” Daisy said, navigating to Bobbi and Hunter’s website. She clicked on their wedding portfolio first and opened just one slideshow of many demonstrating their talents. “Ooo, I like that one.” 

Carol took note of the poses and ideas they oohed and ahhed over, as well as ones she or Daisy didn’t like or Jemma and Fitz warned against from experience just a year before. 

Daisy clicked on more slideshows—some with more creative shots and some more cliche—and they continued until they got to one with outdoor photos, including some at sunset, with two brides. 

“Ohhh,” Daisy exhaled as she paused on one. The sunbeams highlighting the couple’s silhouette were perfect. The couple touched foreheads, with one’s fingers entwined and loosely resting on the back of the other’s neck, and the other’s hands at her bride’s waist.

“Gorgeous,” Jemma said softly. 

Daisy looked over to Carol with hope shining in her eyes. They had to have one like this. 

“Already got it,” Carol confirmed. She squinted in thought. “Sun sets around 8 in June, so if we want it as a wedding shot, we would have to time it right.” 

Jemma reasoned, “Or, remember, we did wedding photos in advance. We didn’t want to have to worry about it the day of, and I didn’t mind if he saw me in the dress ahead of time.”

“I said it was bad luck.” Fitz shrugged. 

Daisy made a pshh sound. “The rain was a sign of good luck. Plus you’re both British, aren’t rainy wedding days sort of the standard where you’re from?” 

“Yes, but see, we live here now,” Fitz pointed out.

Jemma took his hand. “Rain the day of is all the more reason I’m glad we did them in advance.” 

Carol was still distracted by the photo on the TV. If she had a shot of Daisy and her like that, she’d have a print done for their bedroom. She could already picture where to put it on their wall. 

“Moving on,” Daisy announced. “Yes, we’ll try to get some shots with Bobbi and Hunter scheduled in advance.” She added that to her to-do list, which seemed to grow every time she took something off of it. 

Jemma pointed to the screen. “So it sounds like you’re decided then. You’ve got a photographer. And all the other things, yeah?”

Daisy worried her lip. It was a multipoint commitment—and not a cheap one. She caught Carol’s hopeful, subtle nod from across the room. They were doing this. 

“Yeah,” Daisy confirmed as she clicked through to the florals and decorations pages. She had to admit, Bobbi was good. “We’re doing this.” 

Jemma elbowed Fitz, who let out a little “ow!” of surprise. 

“Tell them,” she insisted. 

“Oh, alright,” Fitz sighed. “My cousin Deke is a deejay who does wedding receptions. If you’re looking for someone.” 

Jemma jumped in. “He was the one who deejayed ours, as you might remember, but he’s very popular. He’s probably done 100 since he started a few years ago.” 

Fitz added with a tone of derision, “He wants it to be his full-time job, and he dropped out of NYU to ‘build his business.’” He did air quotes around the last part. 

“Very successfully!” Jemma defended. “Fitz is just jealous. Deke sold his virtual reality simulator to a video game company so he doesn’t really need the work, but Fitz thinks he’s wasting his potential.” 

Fitz rubbed at his neck. “He’s also very … perky.”

Jemma translated, “He’s American and a bit enthusiastic, even for over here. But exactly who you’d want in a deejay.”

Daisy and Carol exchanged amused glances. Carol spoke up, “Sure, send us his contact info and we’ll get in touch.” 

Having a baker, a caterer, a menu, and leads on a photographer/decorator and now a deejay was a lot for a full day, but it also helped them feel like it was really happening. Their wedding was not just a dream but a real event they were hiring vendors for and making decisions about—decisions that would become their lifelong memories.  

#daisy johnson #carol danvers #aos #agents of shield #captain marvel #daisy x carol #carol x daisy #wlw #sapphic fic #femslash #lesbian carol danvers #bisexual daisy johnson #skywriting #wedding au #jemma simmons #leo fitz #fitzsimmons #bobbi morse #lance hunter

[doexoeyes]

Strangely Stranger Things

(Part 2)

Summary: You & Steve Harrington? Well, stranger things have happened. Interdimensional monsters and all.

(Or in which the reader is a character in Stranger Things & this how I would incorporate them in the storyline).

Paring: Steve Harrington x Fem!reader

Warnings: Swearing, violence, a bit of suggestive dialogue.

Notes: This is part 2 of this series & it takes place during Season 3. Check out Part One before reading. Hope you enjoy♡

Season 3

You and Steve Harrington were living proof that the stranger, the better.

Never in a million years would either of you had thought that you’d end up dating, let alone be completely in love with each other.

Like literally devoted. Steve is like a love sick puppy around you, so inexplicably happy at being loved so fully and completely and by you. And you’re over the moon for Steve, butterflies and sparks every second you’re with him. Absolutely smitten.

The Loser and The Hair. Who would have thought.

Tammy Thompson is throwing a farewell party at her place and you and Steve attend, although he has made it impossible for you to even get out of the car.

He’s cupping your face, kissing you feverishly, one hand sneaking up inside your shirt while ‘True’ by Spandau Ballet played on the radio.

“Steve, come on..” you say as you tilt your chin away, although your words turn into a moan when he moves to place kisses down your neck.

“I can’t help it. You have me obsessed,” he mumbles into your skin, and you shiver at his confession.

“Mhm. We could have just stayed home then if this is how you wanted to spend the night,” you say, eyes rolling back when he sucks at your weak spot.

Your hands make their way into his hair, pulling at the strands. This elicits a groan from Steve, moving his hands down to slip his fingers under the waistband of your jeans.

“Mmm, not too late to turn back.”

You stiffen at this, gently pushing him away from you as you face him properly. “Steve, come on. This is probably your last high school party. You know, since the likely hood of me ever getting invited to one is very low,” you say, half joking.

You knew that when you’d go back to school without Steve there, you wouldn’t be as ‘respected’ as you were now. You knew the school would revert back to teasing or neglecting you, but you didn’t care. You had Steve at the end of the day and that’s all that mattered.

Steve looks at you with a pout, clearly unhappy at being torn away from you.

“I don’t know if I want to, actually. I think I prefer to make out with my girlfriend and have her make those beautiful sounds for me as I-”

“Is this about the college thing?” you ask him, a concerned frown on your face.

Sometimes it was a curse how well you knew him. He could never pull anything over you.

He sighs, slumping into his seat, hands running through his hair. “Im just gonna feel like shit when everyone starts talking about their futures. I already know I’m a loser. I don’t need it rubbed in my face,” he reveals.

Your heart breaks for Steve but you lean over to him, gentle hands on his cheeks as you tilt his head to face you. “Hey, you’re not a loser,” you say firmly, tone still maintaining its softness. “Getting into a stupid college does not measure your worth. You saved the whole freaking town for gods sake! And you’re the best baby sitter on the planet, hands down. You’re the most amazing person I know, Steve, and I know there’s other’s that feel the exact same way,” you state, smiling at him.

He looks at you silent for a moment, visibly thinking your words over.

“Besides, colleges are just a scam to trap us with student loans for the rest of our lives, enslaving us to the capitalistic world. And I’m not just saying that because my parents raised me to ‘stick it to the man’,” you say, and Steve laughs at that which makes your heart swell.

“What would I do without you?” he says sincerely, eyes looking into your’s with so much adoration that it makes your stomach do flips.

God, the effect that man has on you.

You kiss his forehead and his eyes close as he hums. “Hopefully you never have to find out,” you say with a wink, and he watches you move away from him with a dazed smile on his face.

With it being summer and all, you and Steve decide to both get jobs together at the Starcourt mall.

It was honestly not Steve’s decision per say, his dad forced him to get a ‘crappy mall job’ so he can ‘teach him a lesson’ on what happens to people who are ‘too stupid’ to get into college.

Those were his exact words. Sadly.

“Do you know how embarrassing that is? To have a dumbass for a son? What are you even good for, huh? You’re nothing but a disappointment. To me. To your mother. To everyone who has ever made the mistake of caring for you.”

His dad’s condescending words did a number on Steve, but you were right by his side, healing his wounds and giving him the encouragement and love he deserved.

“I love you so much. So, so much. And one day he’s going to realize that you’re a much better man the he will ever be,” you had said that night, both of you laying in your bed as you stroked Steve’s hair and held him in your arms as he cried silently on your chest.

That was the first time you had seen Steve cry, and though he resisted at first, your reassurance and kindness was enough to get him to let his guard down.

The next day he’s back to being all Steve-like, of course, not acknowledging last nights events, but you know that’s it’s a part of his process. You make sure to give him extra love and attention that day, and although he doesn’t tell you, he’s incredibly grateful.

Steve ends up getting a job at ‘Scoops Ahoy’, an ice cream shop at the food court, and you get one at ‘Tape World’, a music store on the second floor of the mall.

The best part? It was right across from Scoops Ahoy. So if you ever wanted to, you could poke your head out the store and wave at Steve (which you constantly do and he happily returns).

You’re the one thing keeping him going on the days when he feels like he’s going to explode. Especially since his coworker, Robin, seems to get her kicks out of humiliating him every chance she gets.

Despite this, you actually like Robin. You think she’s funny and has great taste in style and she gives you free ice cream when Steve is busy doing something in the back whenever you stop by.

“I still can’t believe you’re actually dating her, Harrington. You do realize she’s too cool for you, right?” Robin says one day as you walk out of the ice cream parlor.

Steve watches you walk away with a love sick smile, hand under his chin as he leans on the counter. “Yeah. I do,” he admits, Robin rolling her eyes at him.

Ew.

You actually end up liking your job at Tape World due to your love for music, but also because you’re coworker is a certain dark haired, d&d loving, rock & roll rebel.

Eddie Munson is the coolest person you have ever met and you’re genuinely surprised by how you both clicked so easily.

You knew him in school as Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson, but you never really cared for labels as your given title of ‘The Loser’ made you very aware of how bogus they were. So you’re more than open minded about getting to know Eddie and you both end up bonding over your love for horror movies and your favorite bands.

He even introduces you to music you never heard before and lets you borrow his copy of ‘Lord of The Rings’ when you mention something about wanting to read a good book.

“So, you and Harrington, huh? What’s it like infiltrating the high and mighty of Hawkins High?” he asks one day as you organize a stack of tapes into their respected bins.

“Oh it’s insane. Did you know they have their own private bathroom with like a bathroom attendant? Along with a horse drawn carriage that takes them to and from classes. It’s crazy,” you joke with a mock scandalous tone.

“I knew it. Those bastards,” Eddie teases back and you both chuckle.

“Nah, Steve is just…he’s different. I mean, don’t get me wrong, he was a real fucking asshole for like 80% of the time he was there, but he was just being a stupid, insecure teenage. We can all be assholes when we’re insecure. Turns out though, he’s the most kindest, pure hearted person I know. And it’s like..he actually sees me, you know? I feel seen when I’m with him. And I’ve never really felt that way before,” you confess, teeth sinking into your lower lip, a little embarrassed by how honest you were.

Eddie, however, doesn’t make you feel ashamed at your vulnerability and instead gives you a small, understanding smile. “Yeah, I get it.”

He reaches down to the box in your hands and grabs a couple of tapes, helping you sort them as he says “But if Harrington ever breaks your heart, I’m going to make sure he doesn’t see anything ever again,” he states and you bump your shoulder into his playfully, the both of you cracking up.

Meanwhile, Steve gets involved in Dustin’s plan to translate a ‘secret Russian code’ he overheard on his ‘cerebro’.

Robin also becomes a part of it, able to crack the code in less than a day, but Steve refuses to let you in on what they’re doing, promising himself that if he were ever able to spare you from potential dangerous situations, he would.

This unfortunately starts to create a bit of tension between you and Steve, because when you would visit him at work now, he would act incredibly fidgety and suspicious.

You were starting to think that maybe he was starting to pull away from you. ‘Maybe King Steve is over with experimenting with The Loser,” the voice in your head, which sounded a lot like Carol, said. But you try to pay no mind to it because that’s absolutely ridiculous and you know Steve loves you.

…He loves you, right?

“Hey, so umm…they’re playing that new movie tonight. The one with the DeLorean time machine, and I was thinking we can go watch it. Like a date night?” you suggest, leaning over the counter, eyes on Steve.

You see his face twitch, a mixture of pity and guilt, before he plasters on that ‘Harrington smile’. “I’m sorry, babe. I can’t. I have to stay late tonight to…to..”

You frown at him, knowing very well that he’s searching for any possible excuse to give you. He seems to notice that you’re on to him and is about to drop the act altogether until Robin chimes in, emerging from the back room.

“To clean the freezer in the back! Yeah, dingus over here accidentally disconnected it this morning and all the ice cream that was in there melted. Huge mess. It’s like, an ice cream massacre in there,” she states, feigning annoyance, but you see right through it.

“Mhm. Totally,” you say dryly, not trying to hide your disbelief. You to turn to walk away but Steve grabs at your wrist.

“Hey, we can watch it tomorrow? I’m off at 5. And after we can go to the fair and then watch the fireworks. It’ll be the perfect date night, I promise,” he says, eyes almost pleading with you to accept as his thumb rubs smooth circles onto your wrist.

You watch him in silence for a moment, chewing on your bottom lip before mustering up the tiniest smile. “Sure. Tomorrow sounds good.”

The smile isn’t convincing and Steve feels his chest drop as you slip your hand out of his grip, walking off without a proper goodbye.

He’s completely distracted by the thought of you all day, causing him to be more tightly wound up than usual. He even manages to snap at Robin, which throws her off because despite her constant teasing, Steve has not once been genuinely upset by it.

“I’m sorry, it’s just…I really can’t lose her,” Steve confesses to Robin when she asks him about it. “She’s the greatest thing in my entire life and if I lose her over this stupid Russian thing then I’m going to lose myself,” he says with a sigh, running a hand through his hair.

“Look, I know I said she’s too cool for you, and although that is true, she’s clearly head over heels for you. I just think she’s a bit weirded out over how off you’ve been acting. She can tell you’re hiding something from her. Maybe it’s better if you just tell her the truth.”

Steve immediately shakes his head. “No, I can’t. Because if I do then she’s going to want to be involved and she’s infuriatingly hard headed and as long as I’m a part of this, she’s going to want be too, no matter what I say. And I’m not putting her through danger. Not again.”

Truth is, ever since last fall, when Billy Hargrove broke your arm, he’s been living with the guilt of it being his fault. If he wasn’t so pathetic, then Billy would have never gotten into the house and hurt you the way he did. Your screams replayed in his head most nights, along with the voice of his dad letting him know that he was a disappointment to everyone who has ever made the mistake of caring for him.

You made the mistake of loving him. Which was even worse.

That night Steve, Robin, Dustin, and now Erica, are fully involved in their plan but become trapped in a secret elevator overnight and then kidnapped by Russian soldiers.

It’s in the interrogation room that Steve realizes that’s he’s probably not going to make it to your date.

As if that should be his biggest worry at the moment.

The truth is, Steve could be at the brink of death, and his thoughts would still be on you.

He pictures you in his mind as the soldiers torture him relentlessly. He thinks of your smile and the way your eyes light up when your excited and how you make him laugh more than he has his entire life and how your lips on his make him feel like the luckiest person in the world.

His eye is swollen and he’s spitting up blood but he still doesn’t break because you’re the one he’s doing this for. He’s not going to let you down this time.

When he passes out finally, he’s put into a room with Robin. Flash forward to the drugs they were given and the alarm going off right before Steve’s nail is pulled, and the gang finally escapes once Dustin and Erica come to their rescue.

They escape and take refuge inside the movie theatre where they’re seated coincidentally at the movie you wanted to watch.

“Hey! This is the movie y/n wanted to see! Where is she ?!” he shouts, and the audience shushes him harshly as Robin turns around to shush them back.

“They’re all just jealous. Ignore them,” she reassures him, crossing her arms across her chest as she sinks into her seat. “In fact, I’m kinda jealous too…” she mutters in her stoned stupor.

Steve is high as a kite and he knows it but he swears he sees you walking up the aisle and exiting the theatre so he decides to follow you out. Robin in tow, of course.

It’s not you, to the disappointment of Steve, and he actually lets out a whine of disappointment. He’s about to run around to find you (because he absolutely must apologize and explain that he didn’t ditch you, he just got kidnapped and tortured by Russians) until he gets distracted by the lights on the ceiling. They leave Robin mesmerized as well, but they both eventually get dizzy and dash to the bathroom to puke.

“God, I’m gonna lose her, aren’t I,” Steve says in between dry heaves. He hears the sound of the toilet in the stall next to him flush before Robin speaks up. “So what if you do? You’ll just move on to the next like you always do.” she claims and Steve frowns.

“It doesn’t work like that when you’re in love, Robin.” he says and there’s a pause from her. “You..love her? Like, for real?”

“Yeah. I do. I mean, I thought I was in love once before, but now I know I was wrong. This is what love really feels like, and I would rather be tied up in a chair and have my face bashed in again then lose it. I’m…I’m gonna marry her someday,” he reveals, leaning his back against the stall door.

“Wow. I just always thought that guys like you took that for granted. The fact that you can openly love whoever you want. I mean, you’re Steve Harrington. Your with a new girl every semester.”

“Maybe. But that’s not who I am anymore,” he answers simply. “And what do you mean I can openly love whoever I want? You can do that too, you know,” he says and his brows furrowed when there’s no response from her.

“Robin?” He chooses to slide into her stall and catches Robin sitting with her arms wrapped around her knees, back to the wall.

“That’s the thing. I can’t. I don’t know if I ever will.”

He eyes her, confused. Robin goes on to explain exactly why she was jealous of Steve back in school, and it all clicks for him.

The fear in her eyes are evident and there’s a tense moment of silence as she can visibly see Steve process it all before he finally responds.

“I mean, yeah. Tammy Thompson, you know, she’s cute and all, but…she’s a total dud.”

And the conversation surprisingly ends with them laughing and singing like muppets and Robin decides that she was wrong when she said you’re too cool for Steve.

Turns out, he’s pretty cool too.

Meanwhile, after accepting that Steve wasn’t going to make it to the movie, you had been walking around the mall when you realized you had forgotten your Walkman at work.

“Shit,” you muttered as you looked at your watch, realizing that the mall was closing. Thankfully, you had a key to the store and was sure your manager wouldn’t mind if you just really quickly grabbed your Walkman and left.

You do exactly that, making sure not to move anything out of place, but just as you finish locking the gate, you hear a car going off. “What the..” as you lean over the railing to see what’s going on, you notice a car lifting up the the air and barreling towards a group of men holding guns.

“What the hell!” you shout, and you suddenly see familiar faces looking across from you on the first floor.

“Y/n!” Steve calls out to you, and you immediately run down to the first floor, eyes widening when you see the state of Steve’s face. “Steve! Oh my gosh, what the hell happened?!” you say as you bolt towards him, immediately caressing his face in your hands, checking his injuries.

“Hey, I’m ok, I promise. It’s a long story involving Russians and a silver cat and a secret elevator but I need you to know that the reason why I’ve been acting so weird lately is because I didn’t want to get you involved,” he admits, words rushing out of him like word vomit.

You look overwhelmed and confused for a moment, but just as you’re about to respond, the rest of the gang shows up, including Jonathan who you immediately envelop in a hug.

“You’re crushing me,” Jonathan states, but you shake your head, ignoring him. “I feel like I haven’t seen you all summer,” you state, and he chuckles softly as he embraces you back. “Yeah, I know.”

After pulling away, you hear the rest of the group get reacquainted, listening to every detail you so obviously missed before this. Just as you’re about to ask Steve to elaborate further, Eleven collapses on the ground.

Turns out the Mind Flayer was back and it has possessed Billy Hargrove and taken victims from Hawkins. While battling it, a piece of the Mind Flayer had gotten inside of Eleven and now it needed to be taken out. You watch in disgust as Jonathan attempts to cut it out of her, but Eleven finishes the job herself, levitating it out of her leg and throwing it on the other side of the room.

That’s where Joyce, Hopper, and Murray come in.

As Eleven rests and the rest of the gang plan out their next move, you take the time to confront Steve.

“I just don’t understand why you would keep something from me. Russians or no Russians, we’re supposed to tell each other everything,” you state, clearly hurt.

“I know, and I’m sorry, but I knew this would put you in danger. And I honestly can’t imagine what it would have been like knowing you were in the same situation as I was. I don’t want you to ever get hurt again. Not if I can stop it,” he explains, and your brows furrow.

“Is this about what happened that night. With…with Billy?” you ask, swallowing down the lump in your throat.

Steve looks at you with sad eyes, confirming your suspicions. “I will never let something like that happen to you again. I couldn’t stop it then but I will now,” he promises and your chest aches.

“Steve…I love you. And I love how much you care about me. But you can’t keep things from me, or lie to me in order to do that. You need to let me make my own decisions. You need to trust me,” you say, eyes pleading with him. He looks at you with his big brown eyes and that look that makes you want to melt. You’re the most important person in the world to him and you can feel it when he looks at you that way.

“Okay. I trust you,” he says and leans in to kiss you gently. Your hand instinctively cups his cheek as the kiss deepens but he pulls away with a small hiss.

“Oh my gosh I’m so sorry, I forgot,” you say, hands over your mouth as you remember the state of his face. He chuckles and kisses the top of your nose, reassuring you that it was ok.

“Steve, come on! We gotta go!” Dustin calls out to him, and Steve grabs your hand, ready to lead you with him, but you pull away. “Actually, I’m gonna stay with Jonathan and Nancy and the rest of the kids,” you state.

You can see the way his mouth is ready to protest but you flash him a pleading look and he immediately drops whatever he was going to say. Instead he sighs and wraps his arms around you in a tight embrace. “Just promise you’ll be careful. No putting yourself in stupid, risky situations for no reason, ok?” he asks and you smile softly, nodding and hugging him back. “I promise.”

When the group separates, you, Jonathan, and Nancy work on getting the car started out in the parking lot. You get in the drivers seat while Nancy and Jonathan check the engine.

“Hey, you didn’t have to stay with me and Nancy, you know,” Jonathan begins to say, approaching you. “You could have gone with Steve if you wanted. We coulda done this by ourselves,” he reassures you, hands scratching at the back of his neck.

“Maybe, but I need to make sure that my best friend survives the night. Especially since we have movie night coming up on Friday and it’s my turn to choose,” and he chuckles at this. “Hey, you know I love you, right? And you’re like so important to me and I’m just sorry that this summer we have haven’t been able to hang out as much as we used to, but you’re still my best friend and I wouldn’t ever want to los-“

“I love you too,” he interrupts, giving you a sincere smile that lights up his eyes. You smile back.

“Dork,” he mutters under his breath and you snort, flicking your middle finger at him jokingly until a roar of an engine catches both your attention.

As if meant to interrupt all the peace and happiness you’d been feeling after days of anxiety, Billy Hargrove is seated in his car, engine sputtering and roaring like an animal ready to pounce. Even from inside the car you can see his deranged expression, the anger in his eyes. You were let in on the fact that the Mind Flayer had possessed Billy, but it still didn’t lessen the hatred you had for him.

You abort the original plan and run back inside of the mall, where Jonathan attempts to start the car that Elven had thrown at the Russian soldiers. But then the Mind Flayer literally crashes in and ruins any hope of getting that thing to start.

Meanwhile, Dustin’s trying desperately to get in contact with you all but to no avail. This causes Steve to grow anxious, knowing that if no one was answering, then something was very wrong.

He runs off with Robin to go back to the mall to try to save you all, praying to the universe that you were fine and he would make it in time.

You all eventually manage to escape out of the mall, but you notice that Billy is still outside in his car, ready to drive right into you all.

Nancy orders Jonathan to start the car and the kids pile up inside, but as you look towards Billy, all you can do is remember that night at the Byers’ house, when he grabbed your arm and slammed you into the table. When he put his filthy tongue on your neck. When he said those awful words to you. When he made you feel so helpless and weak; a feeling you never wanted to experience again in your life.

You spent months with a cast after he broke your arm, a constant reminder of that terrible feeling. You knew it was the reason why Steve saw you differently now. Why he feels the need to protect you so much.

You refused to be seen as weak ever again. You will not let Billy get his way.

Nancy is screaming at you to get inside as she stands with her gun pointed towards Billy, but you don’t move an inch.

“Nancy, give me the gun,” you demand.

“What?! Are you out of your mind right now?!” she shouts, looking at you as if you grew an extra head.

“Nancy, just give me the gun and get in the fucking car!” you bark and something flashes in her eyes as she looks at you and then back at Billy.

Understanding.

She gives you the gun as she heads to the passenger side of the car and you stand with your hand on the trigger. Billy starts the car, speeding towards you and you immediately shoot. Bullet after bullet pierces through the glass but he continues to accelerate towards you. Despite the fact that he’s most definitely going to crash into you, you stand your ground to the very end, and just as he’s about to hit you, a car suddenly crashes right into him, forcing him out of the way.

You watch with wide eyes as you realize that the driver of the car that saved your lives was Steve, and you let out a sigh of relief before racing towards the trunk for you to sit in. Nancy drives over to Steve and Robin so they can get in, just as the Mind Flayer appears once more.

Once inside the trunk, you embrace Steve, who’s quick to embrace you back but not before exclaiming “you broke your promise! this is exactly what I meant by not putting yourself in stupid, risky situations!”

You all watch anxiously as the Mind Flayer tries to gain on you all, but the sound of Dustin and his very much real girlfriend Susie singing ‘Never Ending Story’ on the walkie is a welcomed mood changer. Despite everyone giving you a strange look for singing along. “Oh please, don’t act like you don’t know it,” you state with a roll of your eyes.

You all make it back to the mall and see the Mind Flayer collapse, a sign that the gate was successfully closed, which signaled the end of all this. You spot Max hovering over Billy’s body, understanding that he hadn’t survived. Although your anger towards Billy over what he did to you may never go away, you wouldn’t wish death upon anyone, and your heart ached for Max and her loss.

That night, you stay over at Steve’s. His parents are gone for the week and you’re both very clearly out of a job given the destruction of the mall, so the night turns into a few days and you spend your time holding one another, crying, healing, and trying to enjoy one another’s company.

Along with the death of Billy, you were all informed that Hopper did not make it either, and with that, the Byers’ were moving out of Hawkins and all the way to California. Which meant that the only people who made you feel like you had an actual family, were leaving you.

Steve reassured you that they wouldn’t be gone from your life and that you could always go and visit during breaks and holidays. And although you knew that was a possibility, it still didn’t lessen the pain you felt at once again having someone leave.

“Steve?” you call out to him softly, your head laying on his chest as his arms held you. “Yes?” he murmurs into your hair. “Promise you won’t leave me?” you ask, voice watery as tears trailed down your cheeks.

Steve immediately lifts his head up, causing you to do the same in order to look into his eyes. “Never. I will never leave you. I promise,” he swears, and the look in his eyes tells you he means it.

“Hey, I know what will make you feel better,” he says after a moment of laying in silence together. He gets up from the bed and turns on his cassette player, the opening chords of ‘Separate Ways’ by Journey plays and you sit up from the bed, raising a brow at him. “Really?”

“It’s your favorite song,” he claims as he air guitars and a smile breaks out on your face as you giggle. “No, that’s your favorite song.”

“Mine? Are you sure?” he asks, and he walks over to you and grabs your hands pulling you out of the bed with him.

“Here we stand

Worlds apart, hearts broken in two, two, two”

He sings to you and you’re a giggling mess, Steve laughing along with you before head banging as he begins to bounce up and down, moving your arms around with him.

“Feelin' that it's gone

Could change your mind

If we can't go on

To survive the tide, love divides”

Steve’s energy is contagious and you can’t help but sing along with him, both of you jumping up on the bed and shouting out the words to one another.

“Someday, love will find you

Break those chains that bind you

One night will remind you

How we touched and went our separate ways

If he ever hurts you

True love won't desert you

You know I still love you

Though we touched and went our separate ways”

Steve grabs onto you and makes you both fall onto the bed. You squeal, a mess of giggles as he lays several kisses on your face. “I love you,” he says, forehead resting against yours.

“I love you,” you recite back, gazing at him with pure adoration. In that moment, nothing else mattered. Just the two of you in your own little world. A world where nothing or no one could hurt you.

Little did you know, there was something lurking around the corner, getting ready to deliver more hurt than you could possibly imagine.

“Though we touched and went our separate ways”

#steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington #stranger things x y/n #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things 3

[lepacy-of-the-sims-1]

Round 2 - Goths

Graduation Corpse Party

- Please, no! Don't take my daughter away. Please! My little Cass... It's so early! I don't understand! Please let her live! - Mortimer pleaded and pleaded and wheeped to an entity no one seemingly saw except for him.

That morning, the Goth household woke up to a small scream and a thud. Then another thud, and again, and once more. When the parents left their master bedroom, they saw Cassandra, lying on the floor in silent agony.

Did she fall from the stairs? Did she feel ill and so dropped unconcious at the worst time possible? Was that a ghost from the graveyard, which are abundant in their lot? Or did... Alex push her down?

- You have too many questions, human, and I'm not interested in chit-chat. What is your offer. - the entity in black robes spoke, and its voice echoed in Mortimer's head as if it directly intruded his thoughts. - Offer? Oh... What do I do. What do you want? Do you want my life? Please take mine but leave my daughter alive! Oh, please, no, oh... - panicky Mortimer couldn't think straight. - You are afraid yet determined, mortal. So be it, I'll leave this child... for now. But whether you'll call that a life... is up to you. Human.

- Dad?.. Is that you? - Cassandra slowly got up from the floor, all colour seemingly leaving her body, except for green. - My dearest daughter! My Cass! Is everything alright? What happened? - I... don't know. - Do you remember anything? How do you feel? - I don't... know. - Come here. Just rest, darling. You don't have to go to school today. - But I... was going to graduate for high-... - Forget about high school. You are unwell. Daddy will find a way to make you feel better.

- Mom? Is my sister okay? What happened? - I don't know, Alex. But don't you worry, mom and dad will do anything to protect you both. This won't happen again, ever, believe us.

Bella was frightened and didn't understand. It wasn't supposed to be like this. They were working to evade death permanently. Then, why? She needed to clarify this issue with Michael immediately. But before that...

- Alexander Goth, answer me truthfully. Did you or did you not push Cassandra down the stairs? - I didn't! I'd never! I was in the bathroom, I didn't even see!

For a moment, Bella wished it was actually Alex who did so in the end. Then, it all could be explained and resolved. The relationship between two siblings was alright, but their age differences, interests, and perhaps parental jealousy soured their friendship at times. But if the boy really didn't, then that means that the time itself was now against this neighbourhood, in a hostile way.

- Oh, god. What do we do...

#sims 1 #sims challenge #goths #bella goth #cassandra goth #alexander goth #mortimer goth

[ailelie]

labels: vegetarian, christian/lutheran, cis woman, asexual/demisexual

I think about the labels I wear sometimes, not the relational ones (e.g., daughter, oldest child, sister, aunt, friend), but the ones I've chosen or kept over the years.

I'm a vegetarian. I wanted to become a vegetarian when I was in elementary and middle school in a bid to save the rain forests. I disliked how forests were cut down for farmland and becoming a vegetarian was my own personal boycott. I knew it wouldn't have any effect, but I wanted to show that I cared in some way. My parents, though, said 'no.' In my senior year of high school I became a vegetarian because my parents could no longer control what I did or did not eat. I intended to only do it for a month just to see if I could, just a sop to my younger self who never had the chance, but then I didn't see a reason to stop. I remained one through college until I went to Japan where I wanted to try all the food. I remained an omnivore through grad school because it was easier and cheaper. Then, a year or two after moving to Chicago, I became a vegan. I had brought an apple pie to a party and another woman, who was vegan, was about to take a bite because I told her it was safe, when I remembered, at the last moment, that the crust had real butter in it. I promised to bring a real vegan dish to the next event. I spent a month researching and started to realize that I could be vegan. It wasn't as hard as I thought. So, again, I decided to try it for just a month. But a month passed and I didn't have a good reason to stop. I remained vegan for a few years, stopping only when I realized that I was staying one out of spite and that I disliked how my dietary choices complicated going out with friends. So I became a vegetarian again.

I don't have the zeal of my youth or the need to prove myself anymore. I learned a lot of the tricks during my first bout of vegetarianism and being vegan taught me a lot more, so I don't have the rush of learning something new either. I don't have a good reason to be vegetarian. I don't buy into the idea that it is a better lifestyle. Sometimes I miss how easy being an omnivore is. But this is a label I've chosen.

I am a vegetarian. It is as much a part of me as my glasses (I could do contacts; I wore them throughout high school. I could get lasik. I chose and choose glasses).

When I decided to stop being a vegan, I didn't even consider going back to eating meat. The years I ate meat don't feel like the norm; they were my break from being a vegetarian. I made a decision in elementary/middle school to become a vegetarian and from that point onward, practicing or not, I was one. Vegetarian feels like my default setting. Maybe I stick to decisions too long out of stubbornness. I don't have a good reason to stick to this lifestyle. I also don't have a good reason to stop.

I am a Lutheran. This is a label I picked out during college, but only made a official a few years ago. I grew up Baptist and then just general Christian. I attended a Lutheran church in college when I attended church at all and after that, whenever I've moved, I've looked for Lutheran churches first.

I explored alternatives in high school and early college. I read widely on paganism. I toyed with atheism. Sometimes I still do. Sometimes I wonder whether I believe in God or if God has simply become a habit.

I like Lutheranism because it isn't Catholicism (which I have issues with; my family are black sheep on my dad's side because he switched to Protestant and raised us the same), but it has rituals and liturgy. I like saying the Lord's Prayer before communion, knowing that thousands of other people across the world are doing or have done the same. I like the tradition of it all. I also deeply appreciate that my church is extremely liberal and acts on its commitment to social justice.

That said, if I moved and I didn't have a good ELCA Lutheran church nearby, I'd join a different denomination.

I'd keep Lent, though. I started Lent in high school because I was tired of my one Catholic friend making such a big deal of it. I gave up potatoes. Horrible idea. When the year rolled around again, though, I continued to practice it. No one else in my family observed Lent, but I couldn't let it go. I didn't have an understanding of why people did Lent, so I made my own. It was a reminder. Every time I reached for or thought about that which I'd given up, I'd remember God and Jesus and what they'd given up. It was a yearly rooting in my faith.

I tried to stop being a Christian, but I couldn't. What I've figured out is that, for me, faith is about questions and doubt. If I'm not wondering, then I'm not believing. Only questions I can't answer are big enough to hold the God I believe exists.

So I am Christian and I am Lutheran. The first label is absolute. The second label is the one that fits best now and one I've liked in the past and am comfortable with now. But I'm still learning what it means to be Lutheran vs any other denomination. I'm still figuring out why it matters. (My parents church hopped a lot when I was younger. We ended up at some Baptist churches, but I don't think those were the only ones we attended. They would discuss each church with each other after the service in the car and I would eavesdrop. From them, whether they meant to teach me or not, I learned that no church and no pastor has the authority to declare what is and isn't Christian. That has been extremely important to my faith).

I am a cis woman. This is one I was born with and have kept. I have felt like a very poor example of femininity in the past. I was teased about being butch in high school by a friend who knew it bothered me. I once heard a man on the phone say "yeah, all the guys are out" or something similar and then spent half a block reassuring myself that he hadn't meant me. That was only 4-5 years ago.

I was extremely girly as a child. I cried when my parents put me in pants. I wore bows throughout elementary school and part of middle school. I got tired of dresses and stopped caring about what I wore just as my peers started caring a lot. I hate hassle, so I didn't care for make-up or trendy outfits. I wore what I found comfortable, but I still wanted to be recognizably a girl.

One year, for Halloween, I wanted to be a cowboy not thinking of that as a gendered thing. But my mother gave me a five o'clock shadow. I hated it. I didn't want to go trick or treating. I didn't want anyone to see me. I cried, but my parents didn't change my costume. I still remember that as my worst Halloween, even worse than the year my parents got worried about the holiday as a devilish thing and decided we wouldn't do any celebrating beyond some "Boo" glasses.

In elementary or middle school, I started to worry that my voice was too low. I practiced speaking in a higher tone to be more girly.

My hair is dark. The hair on my upper lip grows in dark. I hate it. I've learned to ignore it because waxing is a hassle and, as established, I also hate hassle. In high school, I practiced different smiles to try and hide the hair in the shadows.

I'm less worried now, thanks to friends playing with gender in different ways, but I used to fear someone basically telling me that I wasn't really a woman. That I haven't played the part well enough. That my whole identity was really a mistake.

I'm more secure now, but I still don't enjoy role-playing as other genders. It feels like slipping on an ill-fitting, itchy suit.

I'm demisexual. Technically, I'm biromantic demisexual. I have felt attraction and desire before. I fully believe that if I know and trust someone, I can feel it again. For the most part, though, these days I just tell people that I'm 'under the ace umbrella.' It is easier.

I used to think I was straight. Then I was told I was bisexual by a stranger online. Then I wondered about being a lesbian. Then I figured I was straight again. Then I was back to bi. I was the definition of questioning, except that I never let anyone else into my head. I've only had one real 'coming out' conversation, which led to my friend clarifying that despite her undergrad explorations, she wasn't into women. I told people at work recently and felt like it should have felt like more. That feeling when you think you should be feeling a feeling. No one else made much of a deal about it, though. Part of me wishes someone had? I don't know. I did have one girl, point blank, ask me how I was queer. I just stared at her and was like, "Um, I'm demisexual?" Wondering why it mattered to her. That reminds me, in my last semester of high school, it was apparently common knowledge that I was bi. I only learned this when my college roommate learned this fact from someone I never even spoke with but who had attended my high school. My roommate marched into our dorm room, demanding to know why I hadn't told her I was bi. I was blindsided and torn between saying "I'm not, though?" and "Why in the world would I have to tell you my sexuality just because you told me yours?"

Anyway. As defensive as I am of the queer label, I struggle with it. I pass as straight. I don't have an undercut or hair dye. I don't have tattoos or piercings. I don't do bold make-up or nail polish. I don't dress queer. I wear jeans and blouses and cardigans. Other than a sports bra and some socks, I don't wear pride colors. I'm not someone who gets noticed as part of the community even if that is a community I feel more comfortable within. And I'm ace and demisexual within ace and biromantic within that and those are all marginal identities anyway. Like, not everyone accepts that bisexuality/romanticism is a real thing. And not everyone accepts asexuals in the queer community (unless they're there as cheerleaders for the allosexuals and handing out water bottles; god I hate that post) or that demisexuality is even a thing.

Friends make me welcome, but at general queer events or things, there's a part of me that wonders if I'm taking a 'real queer's' place. It is irrational, but the feeling persists.

I tried so long to convince myself that I didn't need labels for my sexuality, but finding demisexual just made so much of my life make sense. Fuzzy moments suddenly focused. Now I worry that I'm not really demisexual, but am instead some other flavor of asexual. It has been so, so long since I've felt desire for another person. But the ace umbrella is absolutely correct.

I don't know what the point of this all was.

Labels are weird. Some are simply fact. Some need constant poking. Some I'm hyper protective of. And some I'm almost careless with and it is being careless that makes the label better fitting.

These are some of the boxes I've chosen to put myself within.

#labels #identity #ramble #insomnia

[bishopclimate]

Sometimes It’s Tough - But You Shall Overcome

Dear Child Of God,  Following God with reckless abandon isn’t always easy or comfortable. In fact, sometimes it’s downright tough! The issue isn’t how many miracles you’ll experience or what kind of trials you’ll encounter. The issue always remains total obedience. It’s easy to obey God when miracles are happening! When it’s cool to belong to the Bible club on campus or when people compliment you for carrying your Bible and quoting scriptures, it doesn’t take much effort to call yourself a Christian. But when people are making fun of you or spreading false rumors about you, it’s not cool anymore, is it? It even gets tougher when you are going through situation for the sake of the gospel and yet religious people seeing it as punishments from bad things you may have done. I want you to know that I know how it feels ...... Because of Elisha’s obedience, God did many miracles through him. But Elisha’s obedience remained strong through the tough times as well. Often it’s after we’ve experienced a spiritual “mountaintop” high that we encounter a spiritual “low valley.” After healing the undrinkable waters of Jericho (high moment), Elisha was mocked and made fun of because of his baldness (low moment). Did Elisha’s faith teeter during this low time? Not at all! He had learned that the God he served was not only King of the mountain but also Lord of the valley. Elisha had just left Jericho and was headed toward Bethel. On his way, a gang of young men began verbally assaulting him. Though they laughed at his baldness, they were also mocking the fact that he was a false prophet of God.  There will be times you’ll be mocked for your faith. Chances are high that if you participated at the annual “See You at the Pole” event on your school campus this past September, you received some teasing. When you walk through the valley of difficulty, don’t allow your faith to falter. Keep your eyes focused intently on obedience to your Master. Following Christ with reckless abandon requires great cost and sacrifice. That’s why Jesus never pulled any punches when he talked with those who followed him. He let them know the cost would be high. Know It!Following God in total obedience may cost you some friends, some parties, and some dreams. In fact, you probably don’t know the full cost yet of following him. But do know this: The eternal  and physical rewards that will follow you in your life and family will far outweigh the temporary earthly cost and pains you are going through! Read It!2 Kings 2:23-25; Matthew 8:18-20; Luke 14:25-35; 2 Thessalonians 1:5 Pray It! Tell God you’re ready to count the cost and follow him with reckless abandon. Today I am praying for you. I see the favour the glory that you are about to experience in your life is far much more greater and rewarding and cannot be compared with with issues that you have been going through.  See You This Sunday :     At 9AM Is Push Prayers. God Must Answer Your Prayers. At 11:30am It's Morning Super Sunday * * Learn How To Walk In The Unlimited Favour Of God * * At 3:30pm Its Prophet Anointing Miracle Service Bring your point of contact, photos, letters, Invite Friends & Family. Bring your prayer requests* . AT @10AM it’s Prophetic Hours - Meet The Mighty Prophet Face To Face No Appointment Needed BE Here In Person at MEGA TKC Miracles House 93 Camberwell Station Road SE5 9JJ. UK 🇬🇧 Call Tel:[phone] USA 🇺🇸 Call [phone]   Click Here Submit Your Prayer Request  https://prophetclimate.net/prayers Read the full article

[eijishimas]

caught red handed.

18+ nsfw content. minors dni. all characters are aged up.

masterlist.

content warnings: f!reader, college!au, masturbation, mentions of alcohol, voyeurism, daddy kink, bit of a handjob, bit of oral (m!receiving), filming, slight degradation, creampie, one (1) instance of bakugou slapping your pussy.

notes: happy belated birthday to my bestie, @rekiri . you deserve the world and so much more, you’re sweet and hilarious and i fucking love talking to you, whether we’re joking or being more serious. i know you told me not to, but i really wanted to write something for you as a gift (because ya girl is a bit of a broke bitch). ik it’s not eren, kiri, or reki, but i hope you like this piece regardless. i love you, even if you annoy me to death, you whore /j. this one’s for you <3

wc: 2.6k | inspo (nsfw link): xxx

Everyone knew college was stressful. Deadlines nearly every single week, assignments and essays, not to mention attending classes brought a whole new wave of anxieties for students every single day. Sometimes that stress was either doubled or relieved by having a partner for a project or two. Luckily for you, you and your old high school classmate Katsuki Bakugou were paired up for a project for one of your Quirk Law classes. It was a research project, one that required a forty slide presentation. You were headed on your way to Katsuki’s dorm today to work on it at the time you agreed upon: 5pm. Then you two would study together for upcoming midterms. It was all planned out down to a tee. So at around 3:50pm, Katsuki knew he had time. He figured he needed a break from his Rescue Tactics Indoors II class, otherwise his brain would begin oozing from his ears.

Pushing aside his overpriced textbook, he rolled his shoulders back, hearing the cracks of his stiff muscles while he stretched at his desk. He let out a sigh, propping his chin up on the palm of his hand as he scrolled mindlessly through his socials. Mina had posted a Throwback Thursday post, an old one of him and you back in your freshman year of college. His nose twitched in annoyance as he recalled the parties, more specifically Denki Kaminari’s birthday party, where he had gotten so drunk that the walls melted and bent before him. Katsuki’s expression changed however, as he swiped through the collection of photos to stumble across an image of you and him. Have you always worn dresses that tight? You practically had your ass out from how short your garment had been cut, tits threatening to spill out of your low hanging neckline. Not only that, but Katsuki had an arm slung around your shoulder. His smile was stretched wide due in part to the alcohol in his system, but also because you were standing next to him. You were laughing at something Mina had said behind the camera, your hand tossed against the slightly unbuttoned shirt Katsuki had worn that night. Your fingers had brushed against his toned chest and he scoffed at the thought. Slowly but surely, memories of that party flooded back to Katsuki in waves.

They were mostly recounts from Kirishima and Mina, but apparently you two had made out in front of everyone that night. He swiped left again, swallowing dryly as he saw just that. Your manicured fingers were wrapped tight around his party shirt, tongues in a deadly dance of want and desperation for each other. Katsuki’s eyes grew as he noticed that the photo hadn’t cut out the part where he had been kneading your ass through that skimpy dress of yours. Immediately, Katsuki went to Mina’s dms demanding to take down the photo. And she did, thank god, but not without sending Katsuki more than ten photos of you and him making out at the party. He clenched his jaw, anger and a low desire plaguing his conscience. Glancing to the top left corner of his phone, he noted the time. 4:10pm.

He had time.

Saving the photos to his gallery, he pushed his chair away from his desk to have some fucking breathing room. His eyes flitted down to his sweats and as he expected, there was a tent forming. He groaned, wiping the sweat from his palms off on his pant leg before languidly beginning to palm himself through his clothes. His breaths quickened, chest stuttering as he looked to his phone displaying the photos of you and him. There’s a faint recollection in the back of his head of how you taste. Like cherries from your glossy lips, like vodka from the shots you took off of Denki earlier that evening, how you moaned into his mouth the night you had drunkenly kissed.

Katsuki tugged the waistband of his sweats down, allowing his previously constrained cock to breathe. It slapped against his stomach, heavy and leaking. Shit, he didn’t remember being this horny at the beginning of this. Spitting into his palm, he lubed up his dick as best as he could on short notice. His eyelids drooped as he swiped through the pictures like a filmstrip, a montage of all the best moments he had with you at that party. You grinding on his lap, you whispering dirty ideas you wanted to do with him later, you, you, you…

Katsuki squeezed his aching shaft, fisting his cock as precum dribbled down his slippery head. His face was an uncanny shade of crimson, a testament to how horny he was all for a few old pictures of the two of you. “Y/n.” He swore he barely recognized his voice from how breathless and needy it was. He continued to pump his cock, the only thoughts replaying in his mind were perverted fantasies of you bouncing on his dick hard enough to hear the slap of your ass cheeks against his abs.

Tapping the screen of his phone twice to zoom in, he admired your curves with pursed lips. Fuck, you really were gorgeous. Everything about you radiated a sinful nature he could never put his tongue on. You were tempting him, licking flames up his body with such intensity that made him shiver. He cursed, thumb drifting over his slit as he hissed. Fuck you for being as ravishing as you were that night, fuck you for making him feel so goddamn needy for your-

“Bakugou, I was about to text you but I remembered you were studying today, so I figured it would be okay if I came a bit...” your words trailed off. You blinked rapidly in an attempt to process the scene unfolding before you. Katsuki Bakugou, holding his dick in his hand, face on fire with a deep blush, his other free hand secure around his phone with- was that a picture of you from your freshman year of college? There was a beat of silence, Katsuki’s uneven breathing the only sound in the room aside from the low drawl of the ceiling fan over both of your heads. You gaped at him, tongue darting out to wet your lips upon realizing his hand hadn’t stopped moving. If anything, you saw his hand flex around his cock, further tightening his grip as you stood right in front of him.

“What the fuck-”

“What?” he beat you to the punch, his lips twitching into a devilish smile, “Don’t like what you see?” His confidence knocked the air out of you, your bewildered attitude showing true on your features. Your body feels warm, searing beneath his gaze. “Excuse me?” you squeaked out, overcome with both curiosity and a hint of lust for the ash blond.

“Are you gonna fucking help me or not?” His pride was refusing him to be flustered, not when he was this feverish for you. He needed the upper hand, he needed control over this situation. And it seemed by how you were shifting your weight from side to side, that it was happening just as he wanted. Who were you to refuse such an offer from Katsuki Bakugou?

And that’s how you ended up here, nestled between thick, muscled thighs with your hand wrapped around his throbbing cock. He had you spit over his dick, his entire shaft gleaming in all its glory as it stood to attention in your grasp. The flash of his camera burned your eyes as you suckled on his crown, hand continuously jerking his cock while he ravenously watched you through the screen. The guttural groan that escaped him was nothing short of music to your ears, your thighs tensing as the coils of heat continued to build and knot between your legs.

“Mm. Keep going like that, take it. All the way in now, like a good little slut,” Katsuki instructed, his voice slicing through the heavy atmosphere of desire. The words make you whimper, enveloping his sensitive head in vibrations while you lick around his slit. A large hand cupped your face, forcing you to make eye contact with the ash blond behind the camera. His black tank top truly had no confines over him, since it was tight enough to see the outlines of his pecs and ripped torso. Katsuki sure worked hard to maintain his appearance, but you knew he had the strength to back those muscles up. The thought of him completely dominating you, holding you with strong arms and pinning you down with his body made your pussy even more wet with your slick than it already was. Even from how you were on your knees, Katsuki possessed an unspoken will over you. You wanted to please him, make him feel good, make him have no good reason not to give you everything he had to offer.

You took your lips off of his head with a little ‘pop’, eyes wide and expectant as a string of drool connected your bottom lip to the tip of his cock. Bakugou’s smile grew, making sure your face was completely in frame and in focus. “Dirty girl,” he hummed, thumb tracing the apple of your cheek before guiding your lips toward his twitching cock. You slowly kissed the vein on the side of it, mumbling out four words:

“Your dirty girl, daddy.”

The moment the words left your mouth, Katsuki let out a low, gravelly moan. It was as if a switch inside him had flipped. Without warning, he’s pulling you off the floor and sitting you down in his desk chair instead. He’s a bit rough, his vision clouded by the sheer want to fuck you until you were screaming his name, until his name was the only word your pretty little brain could recall. He abandoned his phone and instead had his hands drop to the armrests of his desk chair, encasing your body as he towered over you. Your skirt was immediately shucked up your waist and Katsuki’s hands went to work on your panties. He ripped them off completely, tossing them aside without a care as to where they went. He gazed down at you with fervour, licking his lips at the sight of your dripping cunt.

“Who’s pussy is this?” he coaxes with a grin, teeth shining. His hand slipped between your thighs, his index and middle finger tracing up and down your slit. Goosebumps erupted across your skin, your thighs instinctively closing around his hand. Your face bloomed with warmth, eyes darting away from his cocky demeanour, “Baku—”

Your body jolted as a firm smack was delivered to your sensitive pussy, a wet, lewd sound meeting your ears as he did. It made a high pitched, whiny moan be pulled out from your throat.

Fuck.

“Try again,” he ordered, tone demanding and almost condescending. His lips ghosted yours yet he never had any intention of moving close enough to seal the gap between the two of you. You whimpered, eyes meeting the dark red irises that were staring straight through you.

“‘S yours, daddy.”

“Now that’s a good fuckin’ girl.”

His lips found yours, teeth tugging at your bottom lip hard enough to make the warmth in your stomach double. The liquid heat had been building ever since you walked in, and you were fairly certain that you weren’t going to last much longer.

He hooked your knees over his elbows, biceps flexing as the muscles in his arms supported your full weight. He picked you up with such ease, your arms flying around his neck as you squeal, gasping at how little effort that took him. He was a pro-hero in training, of course he had practiced lifting people up no matter their body type or size. Either way, it didn’t matter to him. He thought you looked rather angelic clinging onto him regardless. He wasn’t even breaking a sweat with his hands spreading your cheeks, grunting as he adjusted you in his arms. He slid slowly into your slick cunt inch by suffocating inch, your walls fluttering and enclosing around his throbbing cock. Katsuki’s breathing was unsteady, eyes watching your expression intently in hopes that this new position would give you as much pleasure as it was giving him. His ego was running rapant from how you were holding onto him for dear life. You were practically shaking in his grasp, mouth open in an ‘o’ shape as all you could do was gape at how deep he reaches within you. You were keening, eyes hazed with lust and nails digging crescents into his shoulder blades hard enough to make him hiss.

When you finally catch your breath and adjust to his size, you give him a curt nod as an indication for him to start moving. Slowly, he lifted you up off his cock until his head kissed your entrance before allowing gravity to do most of the work. This position had his cock nudging your cervix and it made the knot in the pit of your stomach squeeze further, threatening to snap with every loud smack of his balls echoing through his dorm room. He pistoned into you like that, reaching deeper to rearrange your insides. It was like your entire body was being engulfed with pleasure and fire. He took in your face, how it scrunched in pleasure, hair sticking to your face as you mumble out how much you want to cum, how much you need to cum.

“Fuckin’ tight just for daddy, hah?” he cooed to you, “You wanna cum all over my cock like a little slut? You were watching me from the door jerking off for you. Dirty fuckin’ girl. Who’s making you feel good? Say it. Spit it out.”

“You!” you moaned, your head feeling light from the way the veins on the side of his cock rubbed your walls, “You, daddy. Please let me cum. I w- wanna cum!”

“I can’t hear you,” Katsuki rumbled, eyes steeled before you unmoving and unwilling to give you permission just yet. “Please!” you begged, “I’m a dirty girl. I’m your dirty girl, daddy! Please let me cum!” You were too engrossed in your pleasure to have any semblance of shame. Katsuki grinned. That’s what he wanted to hear. He let out a tiny ‘tch’ before uttering out, “Then cum, slut.”

Without another word, you let out a final wanton moan, gushing around him as the liquid heat finally expels from your body. Your orgasm hits you in waves, your body quivering with each new sensation as you hold Katsuki’s cock within your cunt. Your nails leave angry red marks along Katsuki’s shoulders, ultimately sending him hurtling towards his own release.

Cum dripped down his twitching cock, your chest heaving as your legs feel like jelly. Tingles shot down your spine as Katsuki pumped rope after rope of his sticky cum well enough to paint your inner walls white. He helped you ride out your high, delivering harsh bitemarks to your neck to leave a mural of hickeys claiming you as his. The smile he gives you is cocky, prideful, and arrogant. He placed you back down on his desk chair, your thighs still going through the aftershocks of your high. Reaching for his phone, he tapped the app icon for his camera. He knelt down, chuckling as your fingers slid between your legs to spread your lower lips for him. His cum seeped out past your slit, leaking down to your puckered asshole.

“There we go. Aren’t you daddy’s good girl, hm?”

Tiredly, you nodded.

“‘M daddy’s good girl.”

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