#my terrible fic

[stevebabey]

have sum steddie! maybe modern!au, no upside down!au & a meet cute <3

Steve sits in the booth, his foot tapping away mindlessly under the table, with half a mind to abandon the table entirely.

In fact, the only reason he hadn’t yet was because of the $20 he was hanging out for at the end. And the bragging rights, of course.

Robin had set him up on this blind date, plied him with all the promises in the world that he would enjoy it — said she’d spent a decent amount of time hunting for the right first gay date for Steve.

She also conceded that if he, for whatever reason, didn’t enjoy it, she would cough up 20 whole bucks for his wasted time. But he had to actually see the date through for the prize to be claimed.

And the bragging rights were so that Robin — with her uppity, healthy, and happy relationship that Steve was only a little bit envious of — could ease onto the breaks when it came to Steve’s love life.

So it was looking a little bleak at the moment, so what? Every stallion or… lion or whatever had their moments, right? Moments where their mane is a little uncouth and food is low and…. Where was he going with this?

The point was, that Robin got into one relationship and suddenly decided she was fit to become a high and mighty matchmaker. Never mind that Steve had reminded her numerous times that he had dated a lot more than she had.

So, for 20 bucks and the right to stick his tongue out at his best friend when she tried to meddle, Steve could stick one night out.

Besides, she was right about one thing. They weren’t in Hawkins anymore — and San Francisco had a hell of a larger dating pool than his hometown.

Still, that didn’t make people anymore for prompt for dates though, apparently. Steve’s foot taps incessantly under the table, his knee bouncing up and down in his nerves. He runs a hand through his hair and checks his watch again.

7 o’clock, Harvey’s Diner, a cute little Italian place that Steve had begun to frequent since they moved to the city, and a date with a dude called Daniel whom Steve had no idea what he looked like.

This was his Friday night plans.

His watch reads 7:12pm and Steve sighs, his fingers beginning to fiddle with the strap of his watch just for something to do. Great. He had gotten all dressed up for this? To be stood up? How was this any better than his usual Friday night plans that Robin claimed were so pathe—

“Hi.”

Someone sits down in the booth across from Steve, landing with a thump loud enough to give him a fright.

Steve’s head whips up from its focus on fiddling with his watch and— woah. Steve blinks once, twice, and feels his jaw unhinge a little, his lips parting an inch as he gazes at the stranger across from him.

Holy shit, this dude was hot.

He’s got curls for days, dark chocolate ringlets all messy and unkept spilling over his shoulders— long and probably perfect for burying your hands into. Steve flushes a little at the unexpected thought.

He has beautiful brown eyes, widened with a smudge of eyeliner and framed with long lashes. Steve thinks he can spy a smattering of freckles across his forehead. His nose is long and his lips are plush and pink and holy shit, this dude was pretty.

“Oh— hi.” Steve manages to remember his manners. Only after he fully checked this dude out, of course.

God, couldn’t Robin have given him a better warning than just ‘he’s probably your type’? Couldn’t she have warned him that this dude was ‘do-a-double-take-on-the-street type hot?’ What the fuck Robin?

The man across from him grins, wicked and alluring all at once, and shucks off his heavy leather jacket. His eyes do a once-over on Steve, taking his time to check him out— which is great because Steve is stuck on all the glorious tattoos that have just been revealed. So much skin shown in his roughly chopped muscle-tee, swirling ink all down his arms. This dude is hot.

Silently, Steve curses Robin and the 20 dollars that is totally slipping away from him. Why did she have to be right all the time?

“Been waiting long?” The man, Daniel, asks as he makes himself comfortable across the table. He pushes his hair back with both hands, using one hand to gather it into a ponytail, holding it up to air out his neck and Steve now realises he is slightly puffed.

He must’ve run part of the way here, to avoid being later than he was. Steve can’t help but be slightly endeared by that fact.

The man grins again, “Promise I was trying to be on time but, you know how the subway is.”

Steve huffs out a laugh, any annoyance at being kept waiting melting away at his date’s sincerity.

“Not too long,” Steve admits, smiling to ease Daniel’s apparent concern. Across the table, Daniel slumps a little and releases his hair, his curls pooling back around his shoulders. Steve watches, entranced.

“Well, that’s good,” Daniel smiles, eyes bright like he really means it, and his hand darts out to steal the drinks menu from the edge of the table. He looks back over to Steve, a furrow in his brows. “You didn’t order anything?”

“I thought I should wait,” Steve says with a shrug. No point paying for food if your date never shows up.

Daniel looks up from the menu through his lashes and smiles, placing his elbow on the table and dropping his chin in the palm of his hand. “Aw, you’re sweet.”

Steve is a little embarrassed by how easily the compliment makes him blush, feeling his cheeks glow lightly. Across the table, Daniel seems to revel in it, drinking in the way Steve’s face filled with colour with a cheeky smile. His eyes flick back down to the menu.

“You know,” Daniel begins, keeping his eyes on the menu, scanning it with a hum. “Chrissy said you were good looking but I think she seriously undersold you.”

He takes his eyes off the menu to trail up Steve’s body, his gaze heavy. Steve feels a delighted zing go up his spine, feels the way he preens at Daniel’s attraction. Steve opens his mouth to respond, more than ready to return the flirt when—

“Can I get you two started with anything?”

The waitress interrupts. She’s poised with her notepad, standing at the edge of the booth. Daniel perks up and nods.

“Can I get a chocolate milkshake please?” He asks with a polite smile. Steve laughs lightly at his selection and Daniel’s gaze cuts from the waitress to Steve.

“What? Not a milkshake man?”

Steve tries to contain his grin, all too endeared by the man before him. He shakes his head and raises his hand in defense. “Nothing against milkshakes just… for dinner?”

Daniel gasps theatrically and his head snaps back to the waitress. “This man has never had the delight of a Harvey’s milkshake with his dinner. Please bring us two chocolate milkshakes!”

Steve watches as the waitress dutifully writes down the order and turns on her heel, heading for the kitchen. He turns back to his date and gapes, taken aback by the forwardness.

“Did you just order for me?”

“Did you just diss milkshakes?”

Steve scoffs, but even then he can’t stop his lips from curling up into a smile. He can’t believe it but he’s genuinely glad he waited this date out. It's not at all like he was expecting. Even Robin's short description of this dude pales in comparison to the real thing. Steve nudges his foot forward into Daniel’s shin lightly.

“I did not diss milkshakes,” Steve argues, his smile widening at how Daniel’s eyes dart to the table before back up at Steve with a grin.

“Uh huh,” Daniel nods, his voice sarcastic and 100% unbelieving of Steve’s insistence. “Just wait, okay? You’ll be changing your tune soon enough. Harvey’s milkshakes are class. I’ve had a thousand of my best ideas in here, sipping on a chocolate milkshake.”

Steve grins and leans back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest. Under the table, he feels Daniel’s boot nudge against his leg gently— and he laughs to himself. This has gotta be the most teenage way of flirting and he’s fucking loving it.

“You know,” Steve begins hesitantly, letting his forearms lean up against the table. “You’re not quite what I expected, Daniel.”

Across the table, Daniel scrunches up his face, his expression one of pure befuddlement. He puts his hands flat on the table and leans forward.

“Wait, you think my name is Daniel?”

Steve splutters for a moment because even though the answer is duh, yes, it’s become increasingly apparent that the man across from him is not who he was expecting. But if he’s not Daniel, who is he?

Suddenly, the door chimes and someone else is entering the diner. It’s a man dressed like Steve — on the preppy side with hair that must’ve taken at least an hour. He scans the booth and spots Steve’s booth, wandering over, his eyes fixed on the man across from Steve.

“Hey, are you Eddie?” He asks confidently, ignoring Steve’s presence on the other side of the booth.

The man — Eddie — freezes as he glances up at the newcomer and then back down to Steve ahead of him. Steve deflates a little inside as he realises abruptly what’s happened— a mix-up of wrong dates that was completely warranted because this dude dresses exactly like Steve. Steve doesn't stare too long to see if he's any hotter.

Instead, he tries to give Eddie the all-clear with his eyes. He smiles polite as he can and gives a little nod to let him know it was alright to abandon him for the date he was supposed to go on. Not to get stuck with Steve.

Eddie clears his throat and smiles, not cheeky like he had with Steve, but stiff and polite. “Ah sorry man, I think you’ve got the wrong guy. My name's Daniel.”

Huh? Steve takes his eyes off the table to steal a glimpse at Eddie (is his name even Eddie?) and something inside him burns hotly when the man glances across at Steve and winks.

The man standing by the booth wavers for a moment, glancing between them in the booth as Steve schools his expression to neutral. After a moment of silence, there's a half-assed apology as the man retreats, heading back out the door he had just come through. The door chimes again on his way out.

Steve straightens up and peers over his shoulder, watching the door slowly swing shut. He turns back to the man across the booth and squints at him. The waitress returns briefly, dropping two large chocolate shakes onto the table, topped with a mountain of cream. She murmurs something about coming back to take their order in a moment.

"Wait, so who are you?" Steve asks, gently sliding his shake closer to him. "Daniel or Eddie?"

His date —well, his new date— has already begun taking a big long sip from his own milkshake, so enamored with it that when he pulls away there's a dot of cream on the end of his nose. He swallows with a satisfied ah and grins across the table at Steve, not noticing the dairy on his face.

"I'm whoever gets me talking with you a little bit longer."

Steve grins, an endeared roll of his eye at the blatant flirting but he can't deny how it makes his chest warm. He grabs one of the napkins and reaches forward, adoring how Eddie goes cross-eyed as he watches Steve smudge away the cream on his nose. He laughs sheepishly, giving his nose a little wipe with his own hand.

"I'm Eddie." He says, finally introducing himself. He doesn't offer his hand, just gives Steve a little nudge under the table and a grin over his milkshake. "And I think you just saved me from a terrible date."

Steve laughs, giving a little shake of his head. He finally goes in for a sip of his own milkshake— and it's just as heavenly as Eddie had promised, glorious chocolate dancing over his taste buds.

Steve groans quietly, eyes bright when he glances at the other man over his glass, entirely amused by how wide-eyed Eddie has become. He releases the straw and sits back, more invested in this date than he has been in... years. Stallion's got its mojo back. Or lion. Whatever.

"I'm Steve," He responds, giving a little nudge back under the table and a grin of his own. "And I think you saved me from being stood up."

#what..... is this???? #i haven't really written modern au for them #and i wrote it in about 2 hours so hopefully its like. not terrible #wahoo ! #i luv a little meet cute #meet cute #steddie #ruby writes steddie #steve x eddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie blurb #ummmm i haven't posted in literal eons ive forgotten all my tags oh well #enjoy ?

[museaway]

"why is all the fic in my fandom so short"

maybe the fic writers are tired. maybe they prefer short fiction. maybe they have pets and kids and school or full-time jobs and can't devote 24/7 to writing fanfiction. maybe they write on their phones while commuting and shorter is easier to manage. maybe they write for zines, which by nature have limited word counts. maybe they write slowly. maybe their motivation comes in bursts and they churn out oneshots when that happens. maybe they can't find someone to brainstorm with so they never wrote the fic at all. maybe the last time they posted a longfic they didn't get any comments, or a reader only said "write more" and they gave up. maybe the fandom is toxic. maybe they saw a passive aggressive tumblr post at 5:26am.

#woke up at 5:30am bc the smoke detector was chirping #and tumblr made a terrible post recommendation #fanfiction #fic writers I love you #normally i just block and go on with my life #but this one really pissed me off

[vinelark]

i don’t remember if i ever shared this here, but a while ago i posted a little twitter thread about bats and gas station snacks and some very talented podficcers made a podfic of it! 🎧

[podfic] Jersey Vigilantes Don't Pump Gas by isweedan & reena_jenkins

original thread (text under the cut):

nested tweet reading: ever since i learned gotham is supposed to be in new jersey i can’t get this concept out of my head: [a badly drawn bumper sticker that says “jersey vigilantes don’t pump gas”] / quote tweet reading: the batmobile can’t just slip in and out of a gas station unnoticed. an employee HAS to go fill up the tank. meanwhile the tired night shift cashier knows the various robin eras because they come in to buy different snacks as time goes on.

one night while the manager is out filling *the literal batmobile* the cashier blinks and comes face to face with a child in a leotard and green boots, buying a pack of twizzlers. “thanks!” the first robin calls, somehow vaulting over two rows of shelves on his way out the door.

years later, after a stretch of quiet weeks, a new, curly-haired robin comes in and grabs a bag of flamin hot pepper puffs. the cashier doesn’t even think robin 2 actually likes them, but he looks really satisfied with himself every time he drops them on the counter.

(even after the second robin abruptly stops coming in, the cashier keeps slipping flamin hot pepper puffs onto their order list. no one else ever buys them, but it just—feels like the thing to do, somehow.)

a stretch of months without a robin, oddly tense. then the third robin appears, even smaller than the first two. he slips inside and buys a cup of black coffee and drains it in one go right at the coffee station, nervously eyeing the door like he’s afraid he’ll be caught.

the fourth robin, when she shows up, makes a beeline for the protein bars. finally, the cashier thinks, someone remotely sensible for this line of work. (though maybe not sensible enough—or maybe TOO sensible—because small caffeine robin is back a few months later.)

the fifth robin, when he first appears, approaches the counter. “you will direct me to the best snacks new jersey has to offer,” he tells the cashier.

“uh,” the cashier says. “i like sour patch kids, myself.”

robin 5 nods. “i will take a bag of sour patch children.”

(one night, not much later, red hood strolls through the door. the cashier has lived in gotham for over a decade now; they barely blink, even when nightwing bounds in after him.

“oh, shit, flamin hot pepper puffs,” red hood says. “i haven’t had these in ages.”

“aw, come on,” nightwing says, already holding a pack of twizzlers. “no one else can stand those.”

“why do you think i got them in the first place, dickhead?” red hood says. “to fend off new jersey’s number one snack thief.” and he buys buys every bag in stock.)

#feat. my own terrible art drawn in the notes app of a decade-old ipad #the joke being that you can’t pump your own gas in new jersey #which i’m sure has been joked about plenty before #anyway the podfic is a delight and every once in a while i remember about it and re-listen for a giggle #batfam #my fic #OBVIOUSLY BRUCE HAS HIS OWN GAS PUMP IN THE CAVE #or the batmobile runs on solar (because it’s sustainable and discreet NOT because superman thinks that’s cool) #but: imagine.

[mysterycitrus]

i want to talk about like…. dicks hyperawareness of his own body and reputation and appearance and how he’s dehumanised by others + how he’s historically conflated care with control and bitten at roy and the titans when they try to reach out to him because he misconstrues it as a lack of trust in his judgement so i need to finish this fic before my gd brain explodes

#im trying to channel those thoughts into writing instead #it’s not working. i cannot take more terrible nightwing 93aftermath fics where dicks an accessory to his own assault like my god

[luxaofhesperides]

We Are Robins meeting to Signal apprehending Danny ; requested by @zylev-blog!

“Hey, Danny. How are you feeling?”

Danny gives Duke a tired smile, his head falling back against the wall. He’s sitting up today, which is good. It’s definitely an improvement from the many days Danny was unable to do much but lie down and grit his teeth through the pain as Duke checked on the gunshot wound. It’s a good thing Danny’s a meta with a healing factor, or nothing Duke could have done would have saved him.

As it is, the wound was severe enough to keep Danny vulnerable and unable to move on his own without making it worse. Though Duke has looked, he hasn’t had any luck in finding whoever did this to Danny. He hasn’t brought it up to the rest of the We Are Robin gang, but only because Danny only let him help if he kept it between the two of them.

What’s another secret? If it lets him stay close to Danny and make sure he’s healing well, then he’ll keep quiet and carry on the search by himself. He’s got plenty of practice in doing things on his own.

“Busy out there?” Danny asks as Duke sits down next to him, dropping his backpack onto the ground. 

“Yeah, it’s tough with the cops after us, but someone needs to help Gotham and with Batman gone…”

A pained expression crossed Danny’s face. Eyeing him carefully, Duke opened his backpack and pulled out a few protein bars and sports drinks for him. Once Danny takes them and began eating one, Duke takes out the first aid kit, always kept at the bottom of the backpack, and sets it in front of Danny.

The most he can do is offer supplies and company at this stage of Danny’s healing. He gets twitchy and tense when Duke tries to tend to his wound, and seems to have plenty of practice in patching himself up. 

He didn’t answer when Duke commented on it once, so Duke let the matter drop. 

Metas may have legal protection, but that doesn’t stop people from targeting them. Duke has no intention of pushing Danny into remembering unpleasant things while he’s already wounded, hiding out in the upper corner of an abandoned warehouse taken over by a group of homeless people. Most aren’t inside during the day, choosing instead to be out with the rest of the city, which leaves them alone. 

Duke keeps an eye on the ground floor of the warehouse, making sure no one comes in while Danny tends to his wound. When he peeks back, he can see that it’s much smaller than it was the night Duke found him, crawling down an alley with one hand clutching his side, tears slipping down his face. There had been so much blood that Duke was sure he had just stumbled upon someone dying and froze, horrified. 

And then a shout down the road prompted him to move, hauling Danny up and helping him into the warehouse to hide. 

For a normal person, if it didn’t kill them, the wound would still be raw and bleeding, larger than any gunshot wound he’s seen before. But Danny’s wound is closing up quickly, no longer bleeding, the edges a healing pink.

It doesn’t look like it’s going to scar, either. 

“Think it’ll be all healed up by the end of the week?”

Danny glances up, then continues covering it with new bandage, large enough to cover the entire wound. “Hopefully,” he says. “Then I’ll be out of your hair and can figure out a way to get home.”

“Your folks gonna look out for you?”

“Probably. I’m not planning on telling them, though, since they’ll get way too overprotective. The only reason they’re not tearing Gotham apart looking for me is because I came here with my godfather and he told them we’d be gone for two weeks. Can’t believe he tried to kill me on day one…”

“Your godfather tried to kill you?”

“Yeah. Not personally, or anything, but he definitely hired the guy who shot me. Though he also yelled at him for shooting me? Not sure what that’s about, but I never trusted the guy and he didn’t try to help me afterwards when I ran away, so. You know.”

Duke wants to have a conversation with Danny’s godfather. Maybe bring the other Robins along to make sure the message sinks in: Don’t touch Danny.

But Danny, acting so casual about his godfather trying to kill him, would be unhappy about it, and Duke would really rather be able to take care of him than be shut out for trying to take control of the situation.

“Shit, man, that sucks,” he offers, instead of prying for details so he can hunt down his godfather. “You want a hug or something? I can’t really do much else, but if it can make you feel better about all this…”

Danny brightens and shoves the first aid kit away, his shirt (one of Duke’s old ones he offered up to replace the bloodstained one) falling to cover the bandage. “Please. I would love a hug, dude, I don’t remember the last time I felt so lonely.”

Carefully, Duke wraps his arms around Danny, leaning back so Danny could relax fully and not worry about holding himself up. Danny sighs into the hug, going fully limp as he drops his forehead onto Duke’s shoulder.

“Thanks for this. And everything,” Danny says some time later. He doesn’t move to pull away, so Duke stays as he is, watching the weak sunlight slowly move across the warehouse as it spills in from dirty windows. 

“You don’t need to thank me. I mean, I’m a Robin.” He brings up a hand to tap a finger against the R embroidered into his jacket. “It’s what we’re here for.”

.

.

.

It’s been years since he saw Danny. After he was fully healed, Duke helped him get to city limits, watching as he boarded a bus and disappeared down the road, leaving his life just as suddenly as he entered it.

After spending so much time together, quiet hours of stillness just looking out for each other, his life feels emptier without Danny in it. He knew it wouldn’t last, that Danny would go home eventually, but it didn’t make the parting any easier.

Even now, as Signal, taking a break from going on missions with the Outsiders to spend some time with the Bats, his thoughts drift towards Danny, wondering if he’s alright. In his darker moments, he wonders if Danny’s godfather has tried to kill him again, if he’s succeeded. In calmer, happier moments, he remembers Danny’s quiet stories about his family, his town, all his dreams and hopes for the future, remembers the easy company and how Danny didn’t look at him with pity when talked about his parents, just quiet and contemplative. 

Sometimes, he can’t resist the urge to look him up, but there are so many Danny’s out there that he doesn’t know where to start. He never got Danny’s last name or learned when he came from.

It’s not like he can just ask the Bats for help finding a guy he knew for two weeks before he ever joined them. They’re all busy with their own missions, and definitely don’t have time for Duke’s reminiscing. 

“Just caught sight of the truck entering city limits,” Oracle says in his ear. “It’s heading towards the Coventry.”

“On it. Any movement from the mobs?”

“None yet. I expect this to change soon. Red Hood and Black Bat are patrolling nearby if you need backup.”

“Got it. Signal out.”

His comline shuts with a little click, and then he’s grappling over the roof tops, keeping an eye on the roads in search of the truck. He doesn’t have time to think of Danny anymore, not when a shipment of new, experimental weapons is passing through Gotham. Spoiler had heard a few whispers of it and Red Robin helped find more solid details; the mobs are all looking to take the shipment for themselves in an attempt to get the upper hand in the nonstop fight for control of Gotham’s streets. 

It’s passing through during the day, visible and a good move to keep from being ambushed at night, but it’s not enough to stop mobs hoping to take out their competition with new weapons. Duke enters the Coventry just as his comline beeps once and Oracle begins giving him specific directions, along with a brief description of what the truck looks like. 

Apparently, the weapons are being moved in a U-Haul rental truck. That is… certainly a Choice™ to make for moving weapons around the country.

He follows it from the rooftops, but nothing happens. The truck passes through the Coventry without incident and takes a turn that keeps it away from Crime Alley and the Bowery. It gets to the middle of East End then pulls to a stop in the parking lot of a diner. 

Two people get out and stretch, then head in to get something to eat.

It would be the perfect time for someone to break in. Duke pulls the light over himself, manipulating it to make him disappear from sight as he looks down from the edge of the rooftop, tense and prepared for anything.

He almost doesn’t see it at first. It’s just a flicker, a flash of color, a shift in the shadows across the street. But he does see it, even if he can’t find it again, and drops down from the roof, creeping towards the truck.

Duke waits, holding his breath, off to the side of the parking lot. 

A minute passes. And then a figure materializes out of thin air, floating right behind the truck. All Duke can see is white hair and a black body suit; they’re either a meta or an alien, but either way, Duke is ready to take them down.

The figure lifts their hands and a bolt of neon green energy hits the truck, melting the back and leaving a large hole that gives them direct access to the weapons. And then they shoot again, destroying the weapons.

“Phantom!” someone shouts, and the truck driver comes tearing out of the restaurant, a white gun in his hand. His companion follows, her gun also out, and the begin shooting. 

Phantom dodges the blasts, then vanishes from sight. He reappears behind them a moment later, tackling back of them into the side of the truck. 

“No you don’t!” Duke say, rushing forward as he pulls at the shadows around him then sends them racing towards Phantom, restraining them. The driver and his companion collapse onto the ground, groaning weakly, and Duke grits his teeth. “O, send someone to look after the people moving the weapons. Apprehending an attacker now.”

He doesn’t wait to hear a response, tightening the shadow’s grip on Phantom, who struggles fiercely.

“We can do this the hard way, or the easy way,” he says, pulling Phantom closer to him.

Phantom doesn’t answer. They just scream, the force of it making Duke fall back. His shadows dissipate, and Phantom flies up.

“Get back here!”

Duke gives chase, dropping in and out of shadows, throwing some at Phantom in the hopes of catching him again. But Phantom is fast and it takes all he has to keep up as they cross Gotham.

He thought Phantom was flying around blindly, but the way they move across the roofs and then through the streets are too confident, too focused to be anything other than someone with a destination in mind. But where? Where could they be going? If they’ve been in Gotham, then Duke would have heard of them.

A flying, powerful meta with a multitude of powers? Yeah, he would have known about them.

Phantom flies through a wall and Duke curses, going onto the roof and looking around, waiting to see them fly out. But they don’t and Duke finds a broken skylight to drop in from, landing on the support beams of the warehouse, well above the ground.

He knows the warehouse, he realizes suddenly. It’s the warehouse Danny hid in while he was healing. Duke hasn’t been back in years.

“Just listen to me, please,” a voice says behind him, and Duke tense, spinning around to face Phantom, floating just out of reaching distance. “Those weapons are dangerous. No one should have them, it’s why I had to destroy them. Please, you can’t let them get those weapons out.”

Duke stares. Something about Phantom is familiar. The shape of his face, maybe. His voice. Maybe it’s just because he’s in the warehouse again, with someone pleading for his help.

Maybe it’s all in his mind.

“Danny?”

Phantom flinches, floating back a few inches. “What— How—”

“What happened? Is it your godfather again?”

“My— Duke? Is that you?!”

He definitely shouldn’t be doing this, but Danny’s here. Danny’s here in front of him, needing help, and he doesn’t need the Signal. He needs Duke.

He pulls off his helmet and lifts his bare face to Danny.

“Oh,” Danny breathes. “Well. I guess I should have known you’d be a hero. Can you help me one last time?”

“Yeah, of course Danny. Tell me what you need.”

“Those weapons, they were first made to kill me and others like me. It’s a whole thing I don’t have time to explain. But they’ve been changed to affect humans, all types of people, as well. I can survive a few hits from those weapons, but for most people, it would kill them instantly. I need to destroy all of them and stop any further production before the rest of the world gets a hold of them.”

“That’s why you—”

“They have to be destroyed,” Danny says. “And the people making and selling them need to be stopped. I can’t do it on my own. I’ve tried, but…”

“I’ll help,” Duke says, “I’ll help. This is a big enough problem to bring the Outsiders into it. Or the Bats, but they like to stay in Gotham.”

Danny floats closer, looking painfully relieved. “Really? They’ll be able to put an end to this?”

Duke reaches for him. “Yeah. they can do it. I’ll make sure of it.”

Danny’s feet land on the support beam as his hand meets Duke’s. They balance above the rest of the warehouse, drinking in the sight of each other. Duke rubs his thumb over Danny’s knuckles in soothing circles and watches as the tension begins to fall away from Danny’s shoulders.

“Duke,” he whispers, “I’ve missed you—”

The door below is kicked open, and a gunshot rings out. 

Moving on instinct, Duke tackles Danny, wrapping him up in his arms as they fall off the support beam. They hit the ground hard, rolling a bit, and Duke tucks Danny into his chest, bodily protecting him.

“Narrows!” 

The Red Hood stands over him, menacing, a gun pointed at him. 

“Hood?” He loosens his grip on Danny. “What the hell was that for?” 

“Thought you needed back up. You chased after our guy and lost your helmet, I think I’m right to be a little worried about you. So, who’s this?” There’s a hard edge to his voice, and Duke realizes with a sinking heart that all anyone else sees is an aggressor, a meta who attacked a truck full of weapons, attacked two people, and had to be chased down by the Signal. Jason’s seeing a threat and acting accordingly, putting Duke’s safety first. 

And with his helmet off, identity clear, Danny’s even more dangerous now that he has this knowledge.

“I’m sorry,” Danny whispers to Duke. He doesn’t have time to ask for what? before Danny’s shooting another beam of green energy at Jason then taking off, flying through the roof and out of sight.

“Shit,” Jason mutters, straightening up from where he ducked to avoid being hit, then puts his gun away and kneels next to Duke. “You alright? Why’d you let him go? I thought you had him.”

“I’m fine. He’s not… He wasn’t going to hurt me. He just needed help.”

“Sure. And what are you not telling me?”

“I knew him. He’s a good person, but he’s been in danger for a long time. This was him trying to protect others from what he went through.”

Jason takes off the helmet and stares at him. Then he sighs and reaches a hand down to help Duke to his feet. “Alright,” he says, “Let’s head back to the truck. You have until then to convince me that they’re the problem, and if they are, then I’ll help you blow up more of their weapons.” He claps a hand on Duke’s shoulder, then pulls his helmet back on. “Grab your helmet. We’re wasting daylight, Narrows.”

There’s nothing else he can do, no way to search for Danny when there are other leads to chase, so Duke grapples up to the catwalk where his helmet landed and grabs it.

Just before he puts it on, he sees a flicker of white just outside the window he’s facing. He ducks his head to hide a smile. It’s almost like he’s stepped back in time; Danny’s here in Gotham, needing help and asking for it in the warehouse. 

And though so much has changed in those years, there’s still one thing that Duke will ensure never changes: he’s Danny’s hero. Above Robin, or Signal, or anything else, Duke is Danny’s hero.

This time, he has the power to actually help Danny. He’s going to make sure no one ever hurts Danny again.

“Let’s go,” he says, jumping back down to Jason, helmet on. “I’ll tell you everything you need to know.”

#ghostlights #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp fic #dp x dc fanfic #prompt fill #my writing #gotta be honest i do Not know much abt the We Are Robin movement. have yet to read those comics.... #also this definitely deviated a bit from your prompt. sorry!! still hope i got the main things you wanted to see #duke being dannys hero is something so special to me... #also it is his parents selling weapons and blueprints and things to the giw which is then given to the military for new weapons #a truly terrible pipeline #duke and jason and whoever else joins will find the source of the weapons. break into the fenton home. and dannys just there eating toast #in his pjs like. um hi guys did u need something? (and staring at duke like DUDE HELLO WTF??) #a mess of a situation :) not gonna write it bc i know it would get away from me and get so long #thanks for the prompt!!

[areyoudoingthis]

"why hasn't stede told ed about his trauma yet" does he even know there's any trauma to tell him about at all should be the question.

that man's been so repressed and tightly wound his whole life that he wouldn't even know where to begin opening up. he knows ed loves him and he still runs off to hide alone in his room after he's killed a horrible man who poked at his insecurities and triggered his deepest trauma right after insulting the man he loves.

he doesn't turn to ed for comfort when he's upset, he doesn't even process that he's upset, he just sits in his room flashing back to his childhood and panicking. he gets comforted anyway because ed loves him, but where ed's offering conversation stede takes physical relief instead, makes himself feel better without processing anything he just went through.

he's aware that ed loves him, and he's getting better at loving ed because he's a good observer and a very fast learner, but does he even know what being loved looks like. does he even have an idea of the immensity of what ed is offering.

he says "i know" and he means it, but he still fishes desperately for compliments five minutes later because he's still that insecure, still worried that if he doesn't measure up (to the kind of pirate blackbeard and zheng are in this case), he's gonna get left behind.

i honestly don't know what it would take to convince him that he can share his past with ed, that he can tell him about his fears and his self doubt and ed won't leave him for it, won't think weak and soft and not good enough the way everyone else in his life has before.

#welcome to my mind right now this fic is shredding me apart #ofmd #stede bonnet #alex watches ofmd #i think one of these days ed's gonna make a casual comment about something completely random and it's gonna trigger the breakdown of the #century #and he's gonna have to spend a whole week comforting stede at regular intervals #it's gonna be great for them terrible for me who has to write it

[angelsfuzzyslippers]

Some fan art for the fanfic "At the End of Extinction" (by The_Bad_Samaritan (98tuffluv))! It's a zombie apocalypse human AU that I absolutely adore! Husk and Angel whisking a little Charlie across a post-apocalyptic US to reunite her with her parents - with threats lurking around every corner >:3 (I know the designs I went with don't align with the author doodles in the most recent chapter shhhhhhhhh I don't have time to redraw this)

#can you tell I've never drawn a gun before #angel has terrible trigger discipline in this art oops #even in an apocalypse angel is gonna look cute 😌 #this fic warmed me up to human AUs #they weren't really my cup of tea but this one is so good #it made me more open to others #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanart #huskerdust #hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin hotel charlie

[decarbry]

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #aizawa shouta #Aizawa fan art #eraserhead #so my favorite take on Aizawa's life post-UA is where he just. continues to spiral #after they graduate he continues to pull away from Hizashi and Nem until they hardly ever hear from him. it's like pulling teeth getting hi #on the phone and impossible to see in person. working himself to death in the underground hero world and making pennies #sometimes so deep in it that he has bouts of houselessness but refuses to ask anyone for help. for YEARS. #so when his friends finally pry themselves an opening they find him at rock bottom and are the only real reason he gets pulled out of it at #all to become the Aizawa we know in canon #he spends the next few years after leaving UA and prior to joining an agency as a self-described terrible friend and all he's good for is #being an underground hero so he runs himself down to do so #I love fics that focus on this era it's so good #they get Dark but that's how I like em #more of that please #and all of my Aizawa art adheres to this telling of his past #even in the Yabureme AU #(but not Immolation AU lmao)

[videogamelover99]

Bill Cipher angst at 2AM??? Also plz read Flat Dreams

#gravity falls #bill cipher #flat dreams #gravity falls art #my art #fan art #vee's art #liam cipher #pengychan #flat minds #bill in this fic is a narcissistic little shit but also he has so much internalized self-loathing #bill gets a tragic backstory but its like. good #he's still an absolutely terrible person #not to me though. he did nothing wrong #its been SEVEN YEARS and this triangle is STILL living in my head rent free #who's excited for the Book of Bill

[stevebabey]

no one asked but this is the post that inspired this! thank u immensely for the luv <3 number 1 comment was wondering what steve’s bids were & from his pov, so without further ado...enjoy — part one here!

—

Begrudgingly, Eddie has to admit that Robin might be right.

It’s impossible not to be looking for the bids since he brought them up to her. Even though Eddie was fully expecting to tell Robin to suck it, maybe even wager what little money he had against this working out, Eddie can’t help but watch for them in every interaction. And fuck, she’s right.

They’re little, but they’re there.

The first one Eddie would’ve missed if he wasn’t looking for it. Actually, that’s a lie; Eddie does miss it, until Robin points it out, the nosy bitch. It’s minuscule and honestly, it just seems like Steve asking his opinion — which friends do all the time! It’s why Eddie brushes right over it.

“Okay, be honest,“ Steve had said, walking and talking as he entered the living room where Robin and Eddie were sprawled across the couches. They were both waiting on him, the three of them set on heading out to the drive-in to catch a film.

Eddie can’t fathom why Steve felt the need to change his outfit for it, but when he returns, he gets it. It’s not quite the usual polo Eddie had grown to like on Steve, this one hanging a little looser, the colour a bit darker than Steve’s usual choice, the sleeves a little shorter — almost midway to a muscle tee.

Steve’s fingers fiddle with the distressed collar of the shirt, smoothing invisible wrinkles and fussing over nothing. He swishes back his floppy hair with a flick of his head. “It’s a new shirt, I know it’s a little different - but what do we think?”

He says we but he’s looking at Eddie.

Eddie, who has taken to trying to reel in his gawp because what the fuck Steve? It’s like he’s well aware of what drives Eddie insane and has specifically leaned into it. Some evil goblin in Eddie’s brain whispers think how good he’d look in your shirt and he squashes it, giving a visible twitch to shut down that train of thought.

From the other couch, Robin clears her throat loudly and smiles sweetly at her best friend. “It looks great, Steve.”

It’s sincere and Steve’s mouth tugs up, nearly a smile but his gaze fast-tracks back to Eddie. Eddie nods in agreement, a bit sluggish from his distracting thoughts and god dammit, the extra exposed skin of Steve’s arms are so not helping. “Yeah, looks... looks good, man.”

Steve smiles, lips pressed together but his shoulders curl in just a bit, deflating just a tad. From where Steve can’t see her, Robin waves her hands wildly and catches Eddie’s attention. He watches as she gestures wildly and it takes a moment to realise what’s she mouthing — ‘A bid! That’s a bid, you idiot!’

Oh fuck, Eddie thinks. Cos it totally was; the question, the focus on Eddie. He doesn’t even think about the logistics of it, of the fact Robin was right, just jumps right into picking up the bid.

“You trying a new style?” Eddie asks and then thanks whatever god invented the whole fake-it-to-you-make-it schtick because he’s feeling so far from casual or confident. “Going metal on me, big boy?”

Eddie just manages to catch the grin that breaks across Steve’s face as he turns away, giving a scoff — it comes out too soft though, giving away his complete lack of annoyance. He pulls that usual Steve Harrington pose, hands sliding onto his hips, and screws his face into some melted smiley-grimace. “Shut up, Munson.”

Eddie grins and goads on the blush that’s beginning on Steve’s neck, a glorious tinged pink colour. “If this shirt is any indication, you’d pull it off just fine.”

Eddie watches the blush climb higher as Steve ignores the comment, his smile still giving him away. He grabs his coat and pats down his jeans — ridiculous tight acid wash jeans that Eddie hates he’s somehow become attracted to — ensuring he has his keys and wallet. Once assured, he looks up at his two friends again, brows raised, and says, “Ready to rock and roll?”

That comment alone has Eddie seriously reconsidering his type in men.

There’s only a brief moment to talk about it when Eddie and Robin cajole Steve into going and getting them both popcorn to get a moment alone. Steve had scoffed, face twitching in the way it did whenever he tried to hold back a bitchy comment, but he still stomped off in the direction of the snack stand.

The moment he’s out of earshot, both voices explode in the back of Eddie’s van.

“What did I say—”

“Jesus H Christ, you were right—”

“Literally how many times do I have—”

“Oh my god, you were right—”

“ —before you realise I’m always—”

“Robin.” He cuts her off, hands landing on her shoulders. Robin eyes them warily, lips still parted from how her rant had been cut off. “Robin, I’m gonna kill you.”

“What?” Robin’s nose scrunches up. “What the hell are you—”

“Oh Christ, I can’t believe- how long have you noticed those bids?” Eddie’s aware he sounds a bit estranged, eyes probably wide and it doesn’t help when he softly shakes Robin back and forth. She lets herself be shaken, hair flying back in forth. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me! You are such a bad gay friend!”

Robin smacks his hands off her shoulders with a frown, her freckly face perturbed at Eddie’s outburst. “Dude, it’s not my fault! May I remind you that until very very recently you were seeing someone else? What difference would it have made?”

Eddie waves his hand, disregarding the point with a shake of his head. His unkempt curls cover his face and Eddie sweeps them back in one motion, “What difference would it have made? Oh my, Jesus—“

Whatever long-winded sentence Eddie was about to spit out is lost by the sound of Steve’s approaching footsteps, effectively shutting both of them up.

Eddie flings himself to the other side of the van, putting an unusual amount of distance between Robin and him like they were being caught doing something they shouldn’t.

Robin frowns at him and gestures wildly with her hands in a way that means what the fuck man? Eddie gestures back, though he’s not entirely sure what his fast hand motions are supposed to mean when Steve rounds the door.

He’s got two buckets of popcorn tucked under each arm and Eddie quickly crosses his arms, tucking his hands into his armpits like his stupid hand motions will somehow give him away. 

Steve looks up, stopping just a way from the edge of the van, and looks at the pair of them. His eyes track from Robin still sitting on one of the old cushions and looking two seconds from burying her face in her hands, across to Eddie. He huffs a laugh and kneels on the edge of the van.

“I know he’s gross Robin,” He begins, tone light, as he holds out one of the buckets for Robin to take. “But c’mon, is the distance really necessary?”

Robin snickers as Eddie makes an appalled noise, both of which make Steve smirk. He holds out the other for Eddie to take and Eddie snatches it, glaring at him over the buttery rim for his comment. Then takes a handful and shovels it in because he can’t think of a witty comment to retaliate. Steve crawls into the van and plops himself between them with a content sigh.

“See? Gross.” He teases, shoving his hand into Eddie’s popcorn bucket to grab a handful. Eddie scowls and chews a little faster when the flavour on his tongue seems to register in his brain.

His eyes stare at the popcorn bucket as he chews, then swallows — up the front of the van, the radio that’s tuned into the correct frequency begins playing the opening credits song as the screen changes. Silence sweeps across the drive-in but despite the sudden hush, Eddie has no qualms about breaking it.

“Sweet n’ salty flavour?” He asks Steve, only half attempting a whisper. Robin shushes him instantly, her focus already on the movie that’s beginning. Steve smiles, looking a bit sheepish beneath the glow of the drive-in screen, but he nods.

“I know you like it.” He whispers with a small shrug of his shoulders. Like it wasn’t a big deal. Fuck, Eddie thinks again and hastily feeds himself another handful of popcorn before he says anything majorly stupid in response to that, like: Oh, amazing- have you noticed the big fat crush I have on you as well?

He doesn’t even need to look at Robin to know she’s smiling, smug as ever.

—

Steve, God bless his oblivious little heart, doesn’t even realise he’s doing it.

Steve likes Eddie. Eddie is— god, Eddie is different but he’s good.

He’s this strange amalgamation of traits that Steve can’t comprehend how they fit together in one body or how Eddie manages to pull it all off completely charmingly.

He’s loud, he says rude things, he’s fucking dorky, and far too sweet on the kids — he likes to tease Steve, and yet somehow, when Eddie calls him ‘pretty boy’, Steve knows he’s not actually making fun of him.

Steve likes Eddie, likes his boyishly endearing charm, likes his touchiness towards Steve that no other boy his age is like, likes his messy curls and his ‘holier than thou’ attitude about metal music even though Steve doesn’t get it, like at all. And fuck, Steve really wants Eddie to like him.

It reminds him faintly of when he first started working alongside Robin at Scoops. That thought tickles in the back of his mind, something along the lines of how he had wanted Robin to like him for other reasons, but he doesn’t delve into it.

To Steve, it’s simple: he just wants Eddie to like him.

After the night at the drive-in, between Eddie acting strangely skittish and Robin giving more amused snorts than usual, Steve knows something is up.

He knows they must have discussed something when they sent him on popcorn duty, the bastards. He tries his best to not feel left out; god knows Robin and he have more than a dozen secrets they’ve sworn not to tell anyone but each other.

Besides, Steve trusts Robin to come and tell him if he really needs to know, even if it does worry him a bit. He bites down his anxious thoughts, even trying for a moment to see if there’s a pattern he’s been missing.

That train of thought gets derailed when Steve recalls instead Eddie’s delightful reaction to his new shirt — that Steve definitely hadn’t bought for that specific reason.

Even though Robin had given him that look when he’d first shown it to her — her bright eyes had narrowed, her smile turning a little more coy, and Steve had felt his ears get a little hotter. She hadn’t said anything though, just suggested that he should wear it tomorrow night when they were going out with Eddie.

God, he was glad she suggested it.

Rewinding over Eddie’s parted lips, the way his brown eyes had drank in the details as they trailed up his body and lingered on his arms— Steve had the sudden thought to flex the muscle, just to elicit some reaction, but it had gone out the window at Eddie’s original dismal reaction.

‘Yeah, looks... looks good, man’. Said all aloof, like he hadn’t really thought it. It was like bursting a balloon hidden behind Steve’s ribs, one he wasn’t even aware was there until it was deflating pathetically, making his shoulders sag.

Then— ‘You trying a new style? Going metal on me, big boy?’ And dammit, it’s like Eddie had clocked exactly what calling him ‘big boy’ had done the first time in the Winnebago.

Eddie had then grinned, done another once over of the new shirt, even as Steve pretended to search for his keys and wallet while saying something snarky to try to cover up the heat crawling up his neck. Yet, Steve found himself smiling too because, fuck yes, Eddie liked it too.

But, apparently, whatever Eddie and Robin had discussed wasn’t considered important enough because Robin never brought it up.

The thought and worry about it melt away in Steve’s mind until the memory of that night is about Eddie’s compliment, about his cat-like grin over the popcorn bucket, and how he had leaned over to whisper every bad joke into Steve’s ear all through the movie.

Some of them had been down-right filthy jokes which Eddie only seemed to enjoy more when Steve screwed his face up and nudged Eddie in the ribs, yet unable to hide his smile.

After the third vulgar joke and subsequent nudge, Steve had chided ‘dude’ with a poorly hidden grin. Eddie, smile all cheeky, had nudged him back with a ‘dude’ of his own.

Which, of course, ensued a nudge competition til Robin had given a shush that librarians all over the world would be jealous of. But Steve didn’t even care because he and Eddie were arm to arm, pressed close together and Eddie…didn’t move. Stayed close, like he wanted the closeness the same way Steve did.

Steve only remembers the strange drive-in moment when Robin brings it up finally, on one interesting Saturday night.

It’s not the usual routine; it’s not very often that the whole group gets together to share drinks and get rowdy.

But it was for Robin’s birthday and she’d been persuasive enough to get even the introverts, like Jonathan, to come along. Though, she was aware he’d probably spend the night on a pool lounger, stoned to high heaven. Whatever floats your boat, she’d said, happy for the company in any form.

There’s enough of them there that it almost resembles some sort of party— and makes Steve try not to think about the last small party he threw here. He can tell Nancy notices it too, eyeing the pool a bit too long in a way he’s very familiar with, then taking a swig of beer.

So, Steve heckles them inside — doing a fantastic mothering impression as he waves the group indoors with a promise of pizza, and that has both Jonathan and Argyle perking up and beginning a fast discussion on the best pizza toppings.

Eddie makes a fuss, because of course he does, and moans terribly when Steve tries to roll him off the pool lounger he’s on. He’s had a bit of a joint and some beer, and Steve’s learned that he gets adorably stubborn after some substances.

“Stevie, this is mean,” he had pouted, gripping the edges of the lounger and staring up at Steve with those big brown eyes. “You telling me I did all that bonding with you for nothing? Can’t even lounge by the pool! I’ve got a couch at homeeeee.”

Steve had sent him an amused look of disbelief, hands on his hips after his first round of flicks against Eddie’s arm were apparently fruitless to get him to move. “Really? Didn’t peg you for a gold-digger, Eds.”

Eddie had snorted at that, one hand coming to slap over his mouth. Steve couldn’t quite hear what he had said but the words pegging and anytime slipped through and Steve thinks he could get the gist of that.

“Oh for Christ’s sake,” Steve muttered, feeling the tips of his ears turn warm. He didn’t know how Eddie could be such a menace— or why he enjoyed it so much when he was. Steve waved a hand in the direction of the doors, ignoring Eddie’s delighted snickering. “If you go inside now, you can be on music, alright?”

And that had finally got them all indoors, Eddie whooping and skedaddling through the doors in an instant, with a call of ‘no take backsies!’ echoing behind him.

Inside was much cozier, the whole group a little more connected when squished up on the couches together. Eddie had taken Steve’s word and was jamming a cassette into one of the speakers when Steve made it back inside after scouting around the pool for leftover cans and butts to throw out.

He’s just been thinking about what playful jab he could make at Eddie’s music, like Eddie always did to him when Robin hollered at him from the kitchen.

“Steve!” She’d yelled excitedly and he come to find her quick, brows raised as he entered the kitchen. She was grinning, already a bit jumpy as she got when she had a bit of liquor — but apparently not enough because when Steve saw what she’d called him in for, she’d announced, “Tequila shots!”

Which lead to now. A hazy combination of beer, tequila, and a bit of weed, and Steve is feeling good. Robin had managed to hijack the music not too long ago, with a hiccup of ‘it’s my birthday’ that had Eddie surrendering with a pout.

She’d since put on a bit of everything: some Blondie for Nance, Talking Heads for Jonathan, and some Bowie, just so she and Steve could dance along to ‘Magic Dance’ and she could do all the silly little goblin voices that made them both cackle.

Steve realised at some point that Robin was playing their mixtape, the one she’d made for driving in the morning, and nearly tripped stumbling over to her in his excitement. He grabbed her shoulders, not too hard, and squeezed.

“Is it- is this our mixtape?” Steve asked, words slurring only a bit. Robin gleamed, hair bouncing with her excited nod.

“Yes!” She was already dancing, even though the tape was between songs — because she knew what song was coming. “It’s Springsteen time, Steve!”

Right as the drums to Born to Run filtered out the speaker.

And oh, Steve loves Robin so much. He loves having a best friend that knows his favourite song and gets jittery and excited because she knows it’s about to play— that she put it on this mix for him.

“You’re my best friend!” Steve says, the words bursting out like he can’t control them. He doesn’t even feel embarrassed, just happy, just drunk, and overwhelming happy to be able to have this.

And even though Robin knows this, she still beams, feet dancing along and just begins to sing along with the song, “In the days, we sweat it out on the streets of a runaway American dream…”

It’s a brazen drunken performance from the both of them. Steve’s chest is heaving after just one chorus that he’s pretty sure he put his whole soul into and he’s so fucking happy —and it feels like pure instinct to seek out Eddie, his eyes scouring the room for him.

Eddie’s leaned up against the wall, hiding his smile behind a can and Steve doesn’t think twice about it— doesn’t think about why he’s so drawn to Eddie, why he wants to include him in this happiness — just extends his hand out and grins.

Eddie sees the bid coming this time.

Part Three.

— 

yes i saw all ur lovely tags and MAYBE cried about it. but thats none of ur business.

@orangeandthefairroadkill @swimmingbirdrunningrock @sadcanadianwinter @phantypurple @omg-elledubs-things @henderdads @farfaras @mixsethaddams @prismandblue @kerlypride @bushbees @legitcookie @temporalcoffin @callmesirkay @beautifully-useless @millyditty @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @ninjapirateunicorns @darkwitchoferie @vi-the-best-you-can @psychosnowfox @desert-fern @scarletzgo @cr0w-culture @softpink-candlelight @livingforfictionalcharacters @makewavesandwar @kozuuji @rhapsodyinalto @eddiethesexy @cassaloopa @lightwoodbanethings @qu33rcommunist @moonlitkilljoy @starkdusk @theysherobinbuckley @sanguineterrain @loganwright @sillysparrow @hotcocoaharrington @eddie-munson-is-my-wife @she-is-tim @steddiehearts @sideblogofthcentury @sidebarre @corrodedcoughin @stevieclaus

#OBLIVIOUS STEVE IS MY FAVOURITE!!!! #idiots in love #they're so important to me ur honour #on god am i gonna make them KISS #but steve's gotta figure it out first lol #ruby writes steddie #steddie #steddie ficlet #i think i can call it a fic now lol each part is 3k+ i think #steddie fic #IF U WANTED TO BE TAGGED AND I DIDNT IM SORRY #lest i come off terribly egotistical i need direct instructions to tag lmao #even then i tagged sum people that just said 'can't wait for part 2!' which? isn't? #I DUNNO #i went off vibes someone said they were vibrating so i was like get over here the next part is here #one of these tags is just a steddie blog i love.... and they reblogged part 1 #corrodedcoughin <3 i love u hehe #the stobin bestie love SHINES in this #i love them so much they are BEST FRIENDS!!! #if u have any ideas... i do love reading the tags and seeing what people want to see next ! im fuckin making it up as i go lol

[sukibea]

I have been so seriously obsessed with this wonderful fanfic by @gaylotusthatexists! it has been pretty much all i can think about since i started reading it (its also been all i can draw... i have so much fanart based off of scenes in it) Seriously love this fic, it pulled me out of art block

I used drawings made by @mellioops, @isjasz, and @vesperionnox as reference for character outfits and appearance!

#scarian #desert duo #hermitblr #hermitshipping #my art #I absolutely adore this fic #i love these two so much #god i love them #also i'm terrible at tags

[mishy-mashy]

Bruce is actually really attractive, and I have enough reasoning to make a list

He's:

Tall (. Tall enough to hit his head on the vault doorframe)

Long-legged

Has a straight nose bridge

Has high cheekbones (more noticeable in 2nd pic below)

Has a strong jawline

Sharp eyes, but they aren't small (plus eyebags if you're into that)

Overall, he has strong, attractive facial features

Has broad, refined shoulders. You can tell he works out (or he did, when he was alive)

Even has a thick, muscly neck

He has MUSCLE. Is SCULPTED. NOICE. VERY NOICE. (nice arms. Nice shoulders. Nice neck. Nice legs. Nice butt-)

(There are actually panels where you can see some of his muscles. Other than those already shown here, he's got bricky thighs-

-and in the panels where we first get his name dropped, he's got those shoulder blades too-)

The one time we see him smile, and he actually has a scary one

Has small, kinda sharp pupils, and his eyes remind me of a cat. We only ever saw him tense or defensive, so his resting/listening face is really cute

Other than the physical appearance stuff, he also:

Takes shit without batting an eye (patience, knowing it's just how Kudo is, etc)

Kudo being all "Cut the crap Bruce and give it to me straight", after Bruce tests his blood and is rightfully Concerned because they just faced AFO

Put up with Kudo's experimenting and testing over Yoichi's transferable Factor

Did ya'll see the look on Kudo's face when he realized he had Yoichi's Factor/will? Kudo was going to start in nonsense and Bruce just dealt with that.

Also something I noticed when looking back at the images here; Bruce has bandages on his arms in the void. But not when he faced AFO in the sewers.

Were he and Kudo cutting their arms open in their experimenting over Yoichi's theory? Is this why Kudo has two gauntlets instead of his one? Why we never see his bare arms in the void? That he always keeps his arms down so there's no slip?

Is smart enough to run blood tests, plus has enough common sense to pick Shinomori as his successor

He picked a guy who avoids society, has an Ability to detect danger so he can always stay away from AFO, is also a coward so he's never going to go throw himself into danger, even without knowing instinctively he stands no chance, etc.

Meanwhile, Kudo chose Bruce, who he played Hot Potato Yoichi with; but he did also trust Bruce, and put the only pure combative Ability in OFA through Bruce.

These two made their choices based on what they valued and saw the Factor needed.

Is logical, analytical, and calm.

He tried advising Midoriya on their Abilities in One For All, especially his own.

Midoriya then tried ignoring him about using Fa Jin for the first time, but found he was right, thinking: "Dammit!! I had [Lady Nagant] right where I wanted her, but... ugh! The Third was right. My parallel Quirk processes are all screwed up!" (ch. 314).

Plus, when Midoriya fixed his processing mistakes, Bruce was analyzing the way he reached his new conclusion. Pure facts, no bias, very calm, just saying it as it was.

We never see him panic. When he's caught by surprise in the sewers by AFO, Kudo, and Yoichi's little bubble event, he immediately reacts. He doesn't falter, he just knows he has to do something right now.

Was more willing to listen than Kudo to Yoichi's beckon, and probably was just following Kudo's rejection of Midoriya

While we don't see Kudo's face, we see Bruce's eyes when Yoichi calls on his heroes. Bruce was more open and receptive, or at least more impacted.

Bruce was also the one to start talking, while Kudo just kept quiet.

He actually communicates a lot

When Yoichi called them to support Midoriya, Bruce started talking to paint a picture of why they thought the way they did, so Yoichi understood where they were coming from.

(Though he seems to beat about the bush sometimes, since Kudo spoke up to be direct on how they couldn't just put their trust in some starry-eyed teenager. Plus, when Kudo tells him to just tell him what's wrong [double Factors])

When Midoriya first used Fa Jin against Nagant, Bruce came out just to tell him he knew what he was trying, but that Midoriya wasn't ready; and Midoriya found he was right. Midoriya just didn't want to listen to him then.

He asks Kudo for clarification after finding Kudo had two Factors in him after the sewer incident ("Just to be sure, All For One didn't touch you, right?") Kudo knew him well enough to go "stop beating around the bush and tell me", so Bruce was probably gonna start with questions, theories, and trying to understand everything in general, before saying "yeah you have two Factors. Don't know why".

Is strong-willed and loyal.

He followed Kudo, even to death, carrying on the cause he started until it ended with him.

Plus, when talking about how AFO needs a strong will to override OFA's own, we first see Bruce, Kudo, and Yoichi.

AFO couldn't steal OFA because the will was too strong for him, and that was back during Banjo's time. Since Shinomori never actually tried opposing AFO and just hid, we can assume the first Three (Yoichi, Kudo, Bruce) already had an accumulation of strong willpower that made OFA un-stealable. Those three are a strong enough foundation, and the main wills, that the other users just become bonuses.

Kudo, also saying that Midoriya needs allies with the same will and drive as him... hey Kudo, you're talking about yourself and your old allies, aren't you? That's why you look at Yoichi and Bruce when you say this.

Not only is Bruce attractive, but he's got good character. THE END.

#yes this is a bruce appreciation post #am i biased? yes. am i right that he has these features? also yes. #hes actually a very attractive person. hes got all the right features for it #plus hes smart (some medical knowledge) is really loyal strong-willed and patient #he puts up with kudo SO much #from being bossed around to taking home yoichis brother to whatever the heck kudo made him do to figure out OFA's transfer properties..... #i didnt think much of bruce originally #then i started doing resistance fic stuff and now hes a fave #hes a little blorbo #that i throw in terrible situations for my own entertainment #used his scary smile for comedy purposes #like when he made a kid cry once. or when a meta child was afraid of him so they bit him #has patience to deal with kudo and co. but also. has enough bite to snark them. is how i like writing him #oh? background character? well lemme just *picks him up* EXPAND ON THAT- #fic stuff: he tries making a good impression on a girl and kudo is ruining it immediately #he doesnt know what to do because the two always banter #kudo: fuck you #oc: fuck me yourself you coward #he sees through a rose-lens that kudo is trying to rip off his face #appeciation kinda turned analysis in general #bruce #kudo #yoichi shigaraki #bnha #mha #spoilers #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #NOT YOICHIS BROTHER. i meant Yoichi / AFO's brother in a prev tag up there but theres too much tags i dont wanna rewrite to fix that #(image limit and tag limit)

[softartemisart]

in the mood to stay at home and play video games all day, grazing on snacks so im always comfortably full, becoming unbearably stuffed when im given a full meal after all of that. im in the mood to laze about and enjoy myself, my plush fat swelling further and further into and over the arms of my gamer chair, always in danger of getting stuck

#art writes #weight gain kink #wg kink #wg text #fat kink #tummy kink #wg writing #feedism fic #the 'is this feedism or is this a fantasy based in my disability' question strikes again #/j. but work is terrible for my mental health so being able to stay at home all day? Ideal. #getting fatter while i do that? even better babyyy

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 96

Part 1 Part 95

Mom makes him go home when he starts dosing on Steve’s hospital bed. But it’s okay because she kisses Steve’s cheek before she leaves, and Eddie and Wayne stay parked by his side. 

The connection’s easier now. It’s like all that time straining for Steve has snapped something into place. He can feel them all the time, a warm buzzing in his chest. He wonders if he runs hot now. If the warmth will diffuse through his whole being, make coats obsolete even in the dead of winter. 

Hopper is waiting for them in the waiting room, El burrowed into his side. She looks wan, and tired, drooping into her extravagant coat, eyeliner running down her cheeks like she’s been crying. Something inside him twists when he looks at her.

Before he can untangle that knot of emotion, Hopper stands up, both hands slapping against his knees first the same way Mike’s dad does before he gets up from his recliner. “You ready to go?” he asks, not looking away from Mom. 

When Will glances up, Mom’s smiling up at Hopper in a way he doesn’t want to think about. The adults talk quietly in front, leaving El to stumble tiredly along beside Will. She’s staring at the side of his face. Will can’t bring himself to look back. 

“Steve,” she says, sounding the word out and making it longer like it still tastes foreign on her tongue. “He is okay?”

When Will gets up the courage to look over, her eyes are big and worried. He smiles at her helplessly. It’s almost funny how innocent she looks; like she’s a bunny dressed up in punk clothes. “He’ll be okay.”

She smiles, small and close lipped, but it still beams out of her like the sun. Will tilts his head to the side and tries to see what Mike sees in her. He wants to hide her in Castle Byers, build a fortress around her, and keep her away from all the lab people for the rest of her life. 

Is that howMike felt, hiding her in his basement, giving her frozen eggos and keeping his mouth shut? 

But then her lips thin and she looks forward again. The feelings vanishes. It’s just El, hia friend, despite how much of Mike’s attention she’d snapped up just by being herself. 

“I’m glad,” she says, looking at Hopper’s broad back as she takes two steps for each one of his. 

It’s quiet after that, the way it always is after; all of them too brittle and bruised and bone-deep tired for conversation.

Hopper’s truck rat-a tat-tats itself to life in the hospital parking lot. The radio croons out something quiet and thrumming until Hopper reaches over to shut it off.

El’s heads smushed into the window, vibrating against the pot-holed roads of Hawkins.

Will’s so tired he’s wide awake. 

He watches the familiar buildings of Hawkins flicker by. It's been a long time since knowing his surroundings brought any comfort. 

Monsters could live behind every door, every tree, every smiling face.

He’s not sure any of them will ever feel safe again. 

Will closes his eyes, locking the scenery out so he can focus on the bundle of warmth in his chest. They’re still huddled together, two sparks merging in his chest. 

The past couple days have been a necessary violation of Eddie’s private feelings. He’d bared them all with love confessions and grasping hands, trying to pull Steve back from the edge of immolation. 

He’s not even sure Steve knows, hopes he does. Steve deserves to hold that love delicately between his palms and choose what to do with it. 

He won’t crush it, even if it’s unreturned. He’ll hold it gently like he always does.

Will doesn’t realize he fell asleep, or that they’d arrived home until he’s in free-fall. It feels like one of those falling dreams where you wake up solidly in the middle of your bed, but this time he really is tumbling, only Jonathan’s arms keeping him from hitting the gravel. 

“Are you okay?” he asks shakily as he pulls Will into his chest, holding him tight enough to hurt. “I’m so sorry.”

“Oh, sweetie,” Mom murmurs, wrapping them both up in her arms, chin landing solidly on Jonathan’s shoulder, sandwiching Will between their bodies. “Everyone’s fine, right Will?”

Will murmurs his affirmation, feeling groggy and confused in the light of day. 

“I was with Nancy,” Jonathan whispers. “I was just with Nancy, and you were–I almost–”

“Shh,” Mom cuts him off, reaching up to cradle his face and smile up at him. Will barely catches the edge of his watering eyes from his restricted vantage point between them. “Everyone’s fine.”

“I should have been he–”

“Jonathan,” Mom interrupts again, sharper this time. “Everyone is fine. You deserve a normal life.”

“But Will–”

“I’m fine!” Will cuts in this time. 

Jonathan pulls back, looking down at him with worried, droopy eyes. “And Steve? Mike said he was possessed.”

Will feels that bundle of warmth in his heart, lets it shine through his smile as he looks up at his brother. “He’ll be okay.” As Jonathan droops with relief, Will feels his smile turn cheeky. “Eddie will never let you forget that you were on a date while we were fighting monsters, though.”

Jonathan closes his eyes, pained while Mom laughs. 

It’s not until they’re walking toward the front door that Will notices the lack of demo-dog bodies. There’s still puddles of black oil-slick blood, but everything else looks normal. Who covered their tracks? The lab? Hopper?

He settles down for the debrief, pillowing his head on Jonathan’s shoulder as Hopper’s even tones flit through his brain. 

Maybe familiar places no longer hold any comfort, but Jonathan’s bony frame is enough to lull him into a peaceful sleep.

Part 97

Taglist: @deany-baby @estrellami-1 @altocumulustranslucidus @evillittleguy @carlprocastinator1000 @hallucinatedjosten @goodolefashionedloverboi @newtstabber @lunabyrd @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @manda-panda-monium @disrespectedgoatman @finntheehumaneater @ive-been-bamboozled @harringrieve @grimmfitzz @is-emily-real @dontstealmycake @angeldreamsoffanfic @a-couchpotato @5ammi90 @mac-attack19 @genderless-spoon @kas-eddie-munson @louismeds @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @pansexuality-activated @ellietheasexylibrarian @nebulainajar @mightbeasleep @neonfruitbowl @beth--b @silenzioperso @best-selling-show @v3lv3tf0x @bookworm0690 @paintsplatteredandimperfect @wonderland-girl143-blog @nerdsconquerall @sharingisntkaren @canmargesimpson @bananahoneycomb @rainwaterapothecary @practicallybegging

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #will byers #steddie upsidedown au #my fic #Steve pov: I'm a wretch and a monster and everything is my fault #will pov: steve's so comforting :) #also Jonathan freaking out because he missed everything is something that is so fun to me. He's like. I'm a terrible brother! #Meanwhile Nancy only has low stakes in the whole thing. And she never got involved so by the time she knew to worry about Mike. #She already knew he was fine. so her main reaction is feeling left out. #Nancy is so fun in this AU because her inciting character incident (Barb's death) shapes so much of who she is #that we have like maybe one episode of characterization to work off of wrt what she was like before #anyway I'm sick so we'll see how much writing I can actually get done while feverish!

[bucketsofmonsters]

Hunting Season

cw: trophy hunting of sentient creatures, severe leg injury, oral sex, fingering, thigh humping

fem jackalope hybrid x afab reader

Word count: 8k

You hated hunting season. You moved out here, all the way to the woods, to escape people and yet every year they came, the worst people you could possibly imagine. Every summer stupid men came into your forest with their guns and their traps and every year it infuriated you. You wouldn’t be so mad if they were hunting for food, that you understood, but almost all of them were trophy hunters. 

You set off on your daily ritual of trying to set off all the traps they’d set this morning so no one would get caught in them. 

Your head jerked up as the sound of distant wailing pierced through the quiet of the forest. You took off. If you’d heard it, then it was only a matter of time before someone else did. 

As you got closer to the noise, you realized that it sounded human and you cursed, knowing a hybrid had gotten stuck in one of their traps. 

You approached slowly, making sure no one else was around. Your relationships with the hunters were already strenuous. They knew you were setting off all of their traps, if they knew you were also setting their prey free… well, you weren’t sure what they might do but you were certain it wouldn’t be good.

The first thing you saw, hidden away amongst the leaves, was a set of antlers. They poked up above the foliage as you crept up slowly. 

Through the leaves you saw a girl, around your age, with a pair of long fluffy ears that were tucked down behind her antlers overtop her mousy hair. The flattened ears matched her terrified expression, her cheeks wet with tears as she kept desperately clawing at her leg. 

You didn’t even think jackalope hybrids existed, thought they were an urban legend hunters told each other about. And yet there she was, panicked and crying and very much real. 

As you began to approach, her big ears perked up. They were nestled behind her antlers, her nose twitching as you moved through the foliage. 

Big, teary brown eyes met your own as you emerged from your hiding spot. As soon as she saw you she tugged urgently at her leg, which was wedged firmly between the teeth of the metal trap. The only thing she succeeded in was getting digging the metal further into her flesh as she desperately tried to pull away. 

You took a step back in an attempt to get her to stop moving. “Hey, I’m not here to hurt you but if you keep moving like that you’re going to hurt yourself even worse. 

She tried to thrash away from you, muttering no to herself as she was painfully rooted in place. 

“You need my help to open this kind of trap, just please stay still,” you pleaded with her. 

She listened, freezing in place, wet eyes looking expectantly at you as you edged closer. 

As soon as you were within reach you got to work compressing the springs on either side of the trap to free her. After a few substantial pushes the trap fell open and you quickly latched it that way before pushing it away from the both of you. 

The poor girl immediately tried to stand up and collapsed, her injured leg not allowing her to put any weight on it. You went down with her, pulling her arm over your shoulder to help her stand. “There you go, sweetheart, just lean on me. That’s it, there you go.”

She eagerly leaned into your side, putting almost all of her weight on you. There was no attempt to fling herself away this time and you weren’t sure if it was because you’d earned her trust or because she’d realized she had no other options. 

Either way, you needed to get her to safety, and fast. 

Your pace was slower than you would have liked. You’d have preferred to attempt to carry her but you got the distinct feeling that would spook her even further.

Luckily you weren’t too far from your cabin and you managed to make your way back without encountering anyone. 

You pulled her through the door, quickly shutting it behind you, closing her off from any prying eyes. If anyone saw her, you weren’t sure there was anything you could do to stop them. 

“You’re helping me?” She said it like she couldn't quite believe it, like she was still waiting for the other shoe to drop. You had a feeling only time would take away that instinct. There wasn’t anything you could say to make it go away right now, it was too ingrained in her. 

The most you could do was help her with gentle hands and a soft voice. 

“Yup. Come on, up here.” You shifted her onto your bed, the blood from her injured leg seeping into the sheets. 

You cursed under your breath as you realized that all that was left of your first aid supplies was an old roll of gauze and a half empty box of bandaids. Certainly not enough to fix this. You grabbed some vodka and a clean rag, determined to do the best you could to sanitize it before wrapping it up, or at least to remove some of the grime it was currently covered in. 

The wound was barely visible, clots of blood and dirt streaked across her, spread everywhere from her writhing on the ground. 

“This is going to hurt,” you warned her as you soaked the cloth, hoping she understood that this had to be done. 

She drew back a little back a little before nodding and grabbing a handful of your sheets in preparation as you knelt by her injured leg. 

The little shriek she let out as the vodka soaked rag touched her wounds broke your heart. You were going to string those hunters up the second you got the chance. 

The more blood and dirt you pulled away, the better you could to see the gashes in her leg. They were even worse than you’d imagined. She’d clearly been trying to pull herself out for a while before you got there. 

“Really hurts,” she whimpered out.

“I know hun, but we have to get you cleaned up. I promise I’ll be quick, we’re almost done.”

You dabbed at her wounds as gingerly as you could, trying to distract her from the pain by talking while you cleaned her up.

“Your english is really good.”

She swayed back and forth a little, a proud smile crossing her face. “Thank you.”

“Of course. I know very little about your language, I’ve looked but it’s very hard to find anything about it.”

“Secret,” she said with a wince.

“Oh, is it? I had no idea.”

You’d left the worst part for last but you’d run out of opportunities to avoid it. 

Too nervous to get near it, you opted instead to empty what was left of the bottle onto her leg. As you did, she grabbed your unoccupied hand, squeezing it as hard as she could. 

The bottle ran empty and you looked up to see her with her eyes shut tight and her jaw clenched. 

You stood up to go get the gauze you had left and she tentatively opened one eye at the sound of your retreat. At the sight of her bloody leg she promptly shut it again. You couldn’t blame her, it was hard for you to look at and it wasn’t even your blood. 

You grabbed the old gauze from inside your half forgotten first aid kit and promised yourself that soon you’d go into town and gather more supplies so next time you needed it you’d be prepared. 

Your heart sank at the thought of there being a next time, at the idea that no matter how hard you tried, you could never stop this from happening. 

That there would always be some you couldn’t get to in time. 

You shook the thought out of your head. Worrying about them wouldn’t fix anything. All you could do was care for the one you’d managed to save. 

“Do you have a name?”

She nodded, her ears shifting as she did. “Posy.”

“Well, Posy, you should get some rest. I’ve gotta go out for a while but you’ll be safe in here.”

She glanced around the room nervously, eyes grazing over the furniture. She must have found her surroundings satisfactorily safe because after a few moments she fell backwards onto the bed, nestling into the blankets. 

Despite the fact that she seemed content, you were hesitant to leave her alone. The only thing that managed to send you out that door was the thought that she might not be the only one. 

Night was falling but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You knew these woods more than well enough to navigate in the dark and god knows you wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight, you knew your mind wouldn’t stop racing long enough to allow you to rest. 

You set off the rest of the traps you could find before returning home, breaking and displacing all the ones that you could. They’d already done far more damage than you would have liked. 

Thankfully, every trap you came across was untripped. You already felt in over your head, you weren’t sure you could take care of any more injured creatures. 

You half expected her to be gone when you got back. 

Instead, she was out cold on the bed, curled up around a pillow she was hugging close to her chest.  She was lit up by the rays of the sunrise creeping through the gaps in your drawn curtains. 

She jerked awake at the sound of the door closing. She tried to bolt upright before being stopped by a painful reminder of why she was in your bed in the first place.

She pulled her legs up towards her, tucking them into herself and inspecting the bloody bandages she had wrapped around her calf. 

“How’re you feeling,” you asked, careful to keep your distance so you didn’t scare her even more. 

“Bad.”

You nodded solemnly. “Yeah, it’s going to be like that for a while, you hurt yourself pretty badly. But it’ll heal, I’ll make sure you’ll be okay, you don’t have to worry.”

Her head cocked to the side and she studied you from her position on the bed. 

“Do you want something to eat?” you asked as she surveyed you. 

She nodded hesitantly. 

Her big eyes watched you carefully as you put a pot on the stove, lighting the fire under it. She moved closer, hopping so as not to put weight on her injured leg and quickly settling in on the floor, positioning herself so she was eye level with the flame.

“Be careful, don’t burn yourself,” you called back as you grabbed a can of soup from the pantry, sticking to something with vegetables in it and hoping that jackalope hybrid’s diets weren’t too dissimilar from bunny hybrids. 

“I’m not stupid.” She pouted at you before returning to her fire watching. “How did you make fire so fast?”

She chose her words slowly and intentionally, working her way through the question while you busied yourself with heating up the soup for the two of you, letting her figure out the words in her own time. 

“Um, there’s gas in the stove and the knob makes a little spark that lights it.”

“Gas?”

“Mmhmm.”

“It’s warm in here all night.” It was more of a statement than an observation but you understood what she was asking. 

“Yeah, that’s because of a fire too, it’s a heating system. What do you guys normally do at night?”

“We stay close and sheltered.”

“Well, we’re sheltered here, and we’re pretty close.”

She shook her head. “No, closer.”

“Like cuddling?”

Posy nodded. 

“How do you speak English so well?”

“I learned. We all did.”

“Why?”

“To talk our way out of trouble. If you can’t escape, make them like you. Buys time.”

“You know you don’t have to do that with me, right? You can say or do whatever you want to, I’m going to take care of you either way.”

“Why?”

“It’s the decent thing to do. Unfortunately for you, decency is not a universal trait but I promise, no harm will come to you here. Be as much of a little shit as you want.”

She scrunched up her nose as she smiled. “Challenge accepted!”

“Not quite how I meant it.”

She ignored you in favor of staring at the stove as you worked around her. 

Eventually, you broke her little hypnotic spell as you announced, “Food’s done. Do you like tea?”

She shrugged. “What is it?”

“It’s good, you should try it.”

You couldn’t exactly ask her how she liked her tea so instead you opted to put some sugar in it and hope for the best. 

“Do you need help?” you asked as you looked down at her sitting on the floor. 

“With what?”

“With moving to the table. Come on, I’ll…”

“No. Stay here.”

You weren’t sure if she actually wanted to stay on the ground or if the thought of you helping her up wounded her pride. Either way, you weren’t going to fight her on it. 

“Alright. Is this seat taken?” you asked, gesturing at the floor next to her.

She shook her head with a giggle and you settled down next to her, setting two bowls of soup and two mugs of tea on the floor. 

She took a sip out of the mug and scrunched up her nose.

“Too hot.”

“Well, you have to let it cool down first. The soup should be better, I didn’t bring it to a full boil”

She picked up the bowl, ignoring the spoon in favor of sipping directly from it. 

“What is this?” she asked, giving it a curious look. 

“It’s just soup, I get it from the store when I go out.”

“Store?”

“Yeah, it’s where I go to get food.”

“You don’t make it. What do you do with all your forages?”

“Oh, I don’t forage.”

She seemed baffled by this revelation. “Why?”

“I don’t know, I guess I don’t really know how.”

“You live here? And you don’t know how?” she asked incredulously.

“Hey, I’m not stupid either, I just never needed to learn. We all have blind spots.”

“You should learn. This is disgusting.”

“Sorry, but I’m afraid you’re gonna be eating a lot of this stuff until I can get you back on your feet.”

She made no attempt to mask her pout and you couldn’t help but laugh as you added, “Just think of it as motivation to get better faster.”

She didn’t seem convinced by your arguments but was too hungry to care. She practically inhaled her food, despite her less than glowing review regarding its taste. 

The tea was more of a hit, her first sip not leaving her questioning your survival skills at the very least. 

After a few more tastes she announced, “This is fine.”

“I’m glad it’s to your liking.”

And honestly, you really were. You were incredibly happy to see her settling in, the jumpiness from before all but gone. 

She looked up from an empty bowl, clutching a still warm mug in her hands. “What now?”

“I don’t normally have guests, I don’t really know how all of this works. Do you want to watch a movie?” It felt like an absurdly pedestrian thing to ask someone who’d almost been hunted for sport the day before but you got the sense she’d appreciate the distraction. 

“What’s a movie?”

“I can show you, c’mon, they’re over here.”

You didn’t have any real service out here in the woods, but what you did have was an old tv and a box of vhs tapes. They were all grainy and in black and white but if she didn’t even know what a movie was, you couldn’t imagine Posy would be particularly picky about the quality. 

You picked something light and hit play. Her eyes widened the second the tv lit up with a picture, scrambling to get a closer look. 

“How does it do that?” she asked, her eyes unblinking as she stared at it. 

“I’m not really sure to be honest, it’s a bit above my paygrade.”

She scooted across the floor to the back of the tv, searching for the origin of the little moving image. 

You let her explore, settling down on the couch as she moved across the floor. Eventually, she settled down with her back against the couch, leaning her head against your leg. 

“Hi there,” you said, looking down at the girl and wondering whether or not you should join her on the floor. 

She tilted her head back, looking up at you with big eyes. “Hello.”

She didn’t seem partial to personal space, nuzzling into you as she watched. 

As the movie neared its close you weaseled away from her and got up from your seat to try and clean up while she was distracted. You didn’t want to remind her about some of the messier things that were still lying around. 

Despite her wonder at the movie, she stopped and turned to instead watch you. 

You went to make the bed, removing all the bloody blankets and replacing them with clean ones, tossing everything covered in blood into the trash. You had a feeling they wouldn’t be salvageable. 

“I can sleep on the floor tonight, you can take the bed,” you called over to her.

She looked at you like you’d lost your mind. “No, you won’t.”

“Please, you’re hurt, I can’t ask you to sleep down there.”

“I don’t want to sleep on that thing,” she said, eyeing your bed distastefully. 

You ceded the floor to her after it became clear she would not budge on her position. 

Later that night, you awoke from the feeling of something moving around you. As you gathered your bearings, you felt someone nestle into your chest and you realized that Posy had risen from her spot on the floor and had instead opted to wrap her arms around you.

She was looking for comfort. It didn’t take a genius to figure that much out. 

You never could have done this, been as brave as her, sought out comfort like this when you needed it. There was courage in the gesture you couldn’t help but admire, a distinct bravery in the vulnerability. 

You ran your fingers through her hair and her grip on you only got tighter, pleading you to stay with her. You’d just felt her get into the bed and wrap herself around you but she seemed to already be drifting off in your arms. 

“I’ve got you,” you muttered, positioning yourself to try and make sure you wouldn’t get whacked by her antlers in your sleep.

It didn’t take long for you to drift off. You hated to admit it but maybe the closeness didn’t just help her. 

You were just as close when you woke up the next morning, her head resting on your shoulder and her arms wrapped around you.

“I thought you said you preferred the floor,” you said with a chuckle as she shifted further beneath the blankets, still attached to your side.

“I do. I dont like sleeping alone.”

“No, I don’t think I do either. Well, you’re welcome to stay up here, I don’t mind.”

“Mkay,” she said, sounding like she was drifting off again. “This thing is more comfortable than it looks.”

Before she could succumb to the newfound wonders of your blankets and the mattress, you nudged her awake. 

“Come on, there’ll be time for that later, we need to get those bandages changed.”

She looked nervous about the proposition and you tried to cede ground and make the vulnerable position she was in feel a little less scary. “You can change them yourself if you want, I understand if you don’t want me near your injuries.” 

She looked up at you from her spot on the pillow, a timidness present now that certainly hadn’t been there moments before. Her ears were the telltale sign, rising from their relaxed position and stiffening back. “Can you help?” 

“Of course I can,” you reassured her. “Your wish is my command.”

“Be careful what you promise, who knows what I’ll ask for,” she said with a smile, her ears falling back into place at your words. 

“Aren’t you a little tyrant in the making? Come on then, let’s take care of that leg so you can get right to bossing me around.”

She pulled her leg up next to you, wincing a little as she did. You pretended not to notice. 

Your brain ran through contingencies as you bound her injuries. So many things could go wrong with her being here, you weren’t prepared for this. 

You barely had the supplies to tend to her injuries, let alone keep her safe and hidden. 

“Have you been through your mating season?” you asked, trying to figure out exactly where you stood. 

She nodded, ears bobbing up and down as she did. Her dark eyes shone with mischief. “Why are you asking?”

Realistically, it was because her going into heat in your cabin could cause a world of problems. The last thing you needed was to attract more attention to her presence here. Other hybrids might not hurt her but a congregation of them outside wouldn’t exactly be discreet. 

That didn’t feel like the right thing to say though, so instead you opted for a playful, “I can’t be curious?”

“Maybe. I could show you sometime, if you wanted.”

“Yeah?” you said with a laugh, her enthusiasm infectious. “Maybe I’ll take you up on that offer one of these days.”

Her cheeks flushed, despite her being the one to propose the idea and you got the distinct impression her teasing was not going to plan. “I thought humans were prudes.”

“Come on, am I anything like the humans they told you about?”

She sighed, knowing when she’d lost. “No.”

She was even cute when she was pouting, it wasn’t fair. 

“I’m gonna go out and make sure no one else got caught in those traps, okay? I hope that pretty smile of yours is back when I get back or else…”

“Or else?”

You hadn’t quite thought that far ahead. “Or else I’ll find out if you’re ticklish, how’s that sound?”

She giggled, her arms moving over her stomach defensively at the mere thought. “Anything but that,” she pleaded.

“There’s that smile again. See you in a few hours.” Before you could really think about your actions you pressed a quick kiss into her cheek. The second her arms dropped in surprise you poked her in the stomach, leaving the cabin as you heard cries of protest behind you.

She was sitting cross legged right inside the door when you got home, her ears perked up and at attention. The second you crossed through the doorway she sprung up, practically tackling you. 

She pressed kisses into both of your cheeks in what you could only describe as an attack. 

“I win.”

“Jesus, you scared the shit out of me. What was that for?”

“You poked me!”

“Only because you let your guard down.” You took another easy shot and poked her again 

“You’re doing better,” you noted. She was still significantly favoring her left leg, the right one almost hovering above the floor as she stood, but the fact that she was standing and moving at all was frankly incredible. “Healed enough for a sneak attack.”

“Healed enough for revenge,” she said with a smile and a nod.

There was no way that she had significantly healed in the few hours you were gone. You could see it in every movement, she was just as hurt as she’d been this morning. 

The change in her disposition seemed more tied to her growing comfort around you than anything. 

You wanted to keep that going, make sure she felt welcome here, felt at home. You swore you’d put even more effort into it and make sure she knew she was cared for. 

It was that promise to yourself that led you to making homemade cookies for your newfound roommate. 

You swatted her hand away from the bowl as she snuck another bite of cookie dough away from you.

“You’re going to make yourself sick, you shouldn’t eat that.”

She just giggled, intent on ignoring your protests.

“Well, when we don’t have enough cookies we’ll both know who to blame.”

That seemed to get through to her, her eyes widening as she surveiled the bowl. “You’ll make more for me, right?”

“I’m not your personal chef,” you protested. 

That didn’t stop you from caving and making her more cookies. You were certain even the strongest will couldn’t withstand those big, sad eyes. They were a powerful weapon and she knew it.

Eventually you managed to get a full batch of cookies into the oven, despite Posy making every attempt to stop you. 

While the cookies were baking, you hopped up on the counter and watched Posy on the floor, her preferred seat. 

You tilted your head, getting a better look at her as she stared down at her feet. Normally she stared up at you endlessly but now she seemed lost in thought.

“What’re you thinking about,” you prodded.

“Just wondering if anyone’s worried about me.”

“I’m sure people are. Do you have any family?”

She nodded.  “Yeah, a big one. I have five sisters, Rose, Violet, Poppy, Lily, and Daisy, she’s the only one younger than me. I was out with her right before I got caught, was getting her home, I had her run when there was trouble.”

“And they’re jackalopes like you?”

She nodded. “There aren’t many of us outside the family though.”

“Do you know what happened to the rest?”

“People happened to them. Not my family though. They’re very very safe, they never let me go out.”

“I’m sure they miss you, I’ll try and find them next time I go out, tell them you’re okay.”

She shrugged. “I go missing a lot, they always say I’m trouble. Everyone else is always home but I get restless, stuck in there.” She rubbed her injured leg as she spoke, the other one bouncing up and down nervously. 

“Well, we’ll make sure you can tell them you’re okay as soon as we can, when you get all healed up and are able to get back into trouble.”

“Do you get restless?”

“Not really, I like staying put. I do like rescuing you though. How about you keep getting into trouble and I’ll keep rescuing you, deal?”

You stuck out your hand, leaning towards the floor as much as you could so she could reach you. 

She stared at it like you were crazy, moving around it to see if you were secretly holding something.

“You shake it,” you whispered to her. “That’s how we humans make deals.”

She took it and gave it a violent shake. 

“Yeah, just like that,” you laughed. 

Your little timer went off and you hopped down from the counter to pull the cookies out. Per usual, Posy did not wait for the food to cool before trying them, scooping a collapsing cookie into her mouth.

“Are they to your liking, m’lady,” you teased her.

“Better than your soup.”

You scoffed and swatted at her as she leaned away, collapsing to the floor in a fit of giggles. 

“You’re lucky you’re so cute or that mouth of yours might get you into some real trouble.”

A blush began to bloom beneath her facefull of freckles. “I thought you said I wasn’t trouble?”

“I said I didn’t mind and that I’d rescue you, I never said you weren’t trouble. Even I wouldn’t go making claims like that, especially not after you stole my cookies.”

Your little attempts to make her feel welcome got more and more frequent, despite feeling less and less necessary. 

On one of your trips through the forest, you found some lavender, picking some for her without a second thought, leaving a little bouquet of them on the pillow next to her sleeping head. 

It wasn’t uncommon for you to be able to come and go without Posy ever waking. As her initial jumpiness faded, you found out that she was an incredibly deep sleeper. 

She was sleeping in bed with you every night, the cuddling never ending, even when you weren’t sleeping.

When the summer nights got too warm she kicked the blankets off the both of you, staying firmly attached to your side all the while. 

Without a concerted effort from you to get her to move, she’d stay nestled into the covers most of the time. 

There were, as there always are, exceptions to the rule. 

When you got back home, you found her sitting at the door with a sprig of lavender in her hair and the rest clutched in her hands. She was just as excited to see you as ever, already shouting out thank yous and springing up to give you a hug, being able to put a little more weight on her injured foot every time she jumped up to greet you. 

She was getting better and better at English as well, her already amazing English constantly improving. She was an incredibly fast learner. She could hear you use a word once or twice and pick up its meaning almost immediately. 

She’d started picking up curse words from you, which you found endlessly amusing. Her soft, sweet voice would let out an impatient “fuck” and you couldn’t help but snort out a laugh. 

The whole ordeal made her quite cross. She insisted she was just mimicking you and there wasn’t anything funny about it. You unconvincingly reassured her that of course it wasn’t, not funny at all, all spoken behind a smile. 

You, on the other hand, were a little slower with her langugae

She was willing to share but replicating her words was more difficult than you’d anticipated. It had sounds you were unfamiliar with, little clicks and shifts in tone you’d never had to make before.

You’d asked her about her family names, if they were translations or if they just happened to line up with english words

“I translated them. The meaning’s what’s important anyways.”

“What is your real name?”

“Posy is my real name.”

“But how would you say it?”

She made one of the noises you were becoming more and more familiar with. It was more subtle than any word you’d ever heard before, almost being mistakable for a sound of the trees rustling or the wind outside. 

You did your best to repeat back what she’d said and immediately knew you’d gotten it wrong based on her snickering. 

It took a few tries but eventually you got it right. 

“Call me Posy though.” she added. “The meaning is what matters.”

“Yeah okay, I will” 

As you sat there, mulling over the secret words she’d been gifting you, you blurted out a question you’d been unable to shake. “Do you trust me?”

“Of course I do! Did you really think I might not trust you?” She seemed more hurt by the question than anything. 

Did you? “Not really. I think I just wanted to hear you say it. 

She thought for a minute and then shot back a question of her own. “Why did you get me flowers?”

“I don’t know. I suppose I thought you might like them. Did you?”

“Mmhmm.” she nodded enthusiastically. “The thing is… I’ve just heard things about humans and giving people flowers.”

You felt your cheeks begin to warm and tried to play it off. “Have you? Good things or bad things?”

She shrugged. “Just things.”

You had an idea where she might have been getting these ideas from. 

Her obsession with movies was there from the start. She was endlessly fascinated by the moving images and your inability to explain to her how they worked only seemed to fuel her fascination. You were certain she was going to wear through your vhs tapes. 

Her fascination seemed to warp over time, however. You noticed the movies she’d keep watching, the fixation on romance movies growing steadily the more she consumed. 

For the fifth time this week alone you came home to her watching an old black and white romance, her nose practically touching the screen. 

“Is it true humans mate for life?” she asked as you settled in next to her. 

“Sometimes. Depends on the human.”

“Oh. What about you human?”

“Maybe. I suppose I’d just have to find the right person. Or the right bunny.”

Her face immediately lit up with no attempt to hide it

“I think I like human romance.”

“What, no one ever get you flowers before?”

“We get each other flowers. We just don’t have partners. It seems nice.”

“You could have a partner, nothing’s stopping you.”

“Nothing?”

You slid down from the couch next to her on the floor. “Nope, nothing. Which one’s your favorite?”

She rushed over to your collection of tapes. Her movement was practically normal now. She was still favoring her left side but it seemed more out of habit than from her injury, being fully capable of forgetting all about it and darting about when she got excited. 

She wasted no time before getting comfortable, clamoring up into your lap and nuzzling into you as the movie began. 

You should get more tapes for her, you thought offhandedly before realizing there might not be a point. She was practically healed and as much as you tried to forget it, she would eventually leave. 

You had no clue how to bring up the topic, how to suggest that maybe she could visit you despite knowing that everyone she knew and loved would want her to stay far away from you the second they got her back. 

Maybe you were being selfish by not talking about it, trying to keep her with you as long as possible. Frankly, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. 

She noticed your mind drifting and brought you back to reality with an elbow to the side. You let out an oof and shot an accusatory glance her way but she was staring at you with frantic eyes. 

“This is the best part,” she insisted. “You can’t miss it.”

You turned back to the screen just in time to catch the climax of the movie. The music swelled, the camera zoomed in, and the pair on your screen finally kissed. 

She must have this movie memorized by now but Posy still seemed utterly entranced by the scene in front of her. 

“I’ve kissed some people, but never like that,” she informed you, her eyes still glued to the screen. 

You wanted to kiss her like that. You wanted to kiss her every way she wanted to be kissed, to show her a romance to rival all of her little movies. 

But what if that wasn’t what she wanted? What if she was just a friend showing another friend a movie and you’d misread every signal. 

Posy put those doubts right out of your mind, staring at you with resolve as she clearly hinted, “If only someone would kiss me like that.”

You laughed out, “you dumbass,” before leaning in, slowly, carefully, intentionally, just like in her little movie, with all the love in the world in your eyes.

You shut them the moment before you made contact, her hands immediately coming up to cup your face, holding you close. 

You fell into the kiss immediately. It just felt right, you fit together perfectly. You were pressed up against each other but you kept trying to pull her closer, wanting more. 

The tip of her tongue teased at the seam of your mouth until you let her in, deepening the kiss.

Her legs fell to either side of your thigh and she slid herself forwards and back, letting out little whimpers into your mouth. 

You pushed your leg up into her grinding, encouraging her.  

You broke the kiss for a second, muttering out, “Do you want to…”

She nodded and cut you off as she pushed her lips back into yours.

You tried to lead the two of you back towards the bed while she refused to let you go, causing you to slightly misjudge how far away you were from it and go tumbling down onto the sheets, giggling into each other as you fell. 

You guided her onto her back, pulling your shirt off as she desperately pulled hers off, dragging you back down while your arms were still wrapped up in its sleeves. You struggled to pull it the rest of the way off and throw it to the floor while she trailed kisses down your neck. 

Your hand slipped under the waistband of her pants, and you gently slid your fingers inside her. She was so wet they slid inside with no resistance, her walls fluttering around your fingers. 

You kissed your way down her body, pulling her pants off as you went. As you did, you found something you hadn’t known existed. A little white tail sat right above her ass. 

“What’s this?” you asked as you shifted her onto her side to get a better look. 

She rolled back onto her back, hiding the tail from sight once more. “Don’t be mean,” she pouted. 

“I’m not! It’s cute.”

You leaned down to press kisses into her thigh as she tried to pull you up where she wanted you.

Eventually you gave in to her pleas, your fingers continuing to crook upwards inside of her as you pressed gentle kisses to her clit. She bucked into your face, wanting more.

You hooked your arms around her plush thighs to get her even closer to you, focusing more of your attention on her clit as she started to squirm, lapping and sucking at it. As she got closer to her climax her thighs squeezed around your head and you were convinced you might be in heaven. Your hips pushed down into the sheets as you worked her through her orgasm. 

Your hand slipped down to try and provide yourself with some friction but it wasn’t enough. You needed her, needed her to touch you. 

As if answering your prayers, Posy pulled you up and kissed you deeply, licking her own taste out of your mouth. 

She flipped you over, pinning you against the mattress, her bare chest warm and soft against yours as her fingers dove inside of you, her palm pressing down against your clit.  

You were embarassingly close already, her soft touches bringing you right up to the edge. 

Her fingers slipped out of you and circled your clit, swallowing all of your moans as she guided you towards your peak. You pulled away from the never-ending kiss and buried your face in her neck as you came, rolling your hips as waves of pleasure radiated out from your core. 

After you came down you collapsed, your head resting on her chest. Her hand was caressing your cheek as she smiled down fondly at you.

“Was the kiss just like you wanted?” you asked. 

“It was with you so yes, it was.”

“You big sap,” you said with a laugh. 

A wave of exhaustion hit you and you were glad you were already in bed, using Posy as your own personal pillow as you got some much needed rest. 

You woke up to the sound of pounding at your door. 

The first instinct from your half-asleep brain was to ignore it and go back to sleep, snuggled into Posy’s side. 

The sound of a fist slamming against the wood continued ceaselessly and you could make out the muffled noises of the person outside shouting. The second you heard the word traps you sprung up, throwing clothes on and ushering Posy out of sight.

She picked up on your panic immediately, glancing anxiously at the door as you tucked her away. 

“What the fuck do you want?” you hissed as you threw the door open. 

Your attitude towards the hunters wasn’t pleasant on a good day but now, after you’d been taking care of Posy for weeks, you’d never felt angrier. 

“I want you to stop messing with my shit, that’s what I fucking want,” he shot back. “Do you think we didn’t know it was you? You’ve become a real pain in my ass.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Not my fault if you can’t trap prey to save your life, maybe get better at hunting and stop blaming me for your shitty haul.”

“We found blood coming from one of our traps, you know. After a few feet, the trail went cold. Like someone covered it up.”

“Well, I suppose that’s the price you pay when you’re hunting intelligent creatures, sometimes they outsmart you and your shit-for-brains friends.”

He lurched towards you and you instinctively drew back towards the shut door of your cabin. 

As you did, you saw a familiar face peek through the curtain and panic shot through you, endlessly worried they’d spot her. You talked a big game but if it came down to a straight up fight you didn’t like your odds. 

“Listen,” you said, knowing you needed to end this as quickly as you could. “You’re not the only one with a hunting riffle. I advise you to stay away from here or that camouflage you’re wearing may end up being a defense of mine. Now please get the fuck off of my property.”

You were bluffing, you didn’t have a hunting riffle. But at the end of the day, you didn’t need one. All you needed was for him to believe you.

His wide eyes and nervous glance back at your home told you that he did. 

“Bitch,” he spat at you as he began his retreat.

As he drew out of sight, you slipped inside, careful not to open the door anymore than you needed to. 

You locked the door and immediately whipped around and looked for Posy. 

She was sitting on the floor with her back to the wall, her legs curled inwards and tears streaming down her face. She was visibly shaking and clutching her leg and you got the sense she’d collapsed from her spot at the window.  

You grabbed a blanket from the bed and wrapped her up, pulling her into you. Her breaths were coming fast and you just held her, pressing gentle kisses into her forehead and rubbing the base of her ears while whispering soft reassurances to her. 

You slowly pulled her leg out from under the blanket and gently unwound the bandages from the leg she was clutching, trying to show her what you’d been putting off mentioning for days, what you couldn’t help but notice every time you changed her bandages.

“Hey, you’re okay, you’re all healed up. Look,” you said as you revealed her leg, covered in scars but functionally healed. “You’re fine. They can’t get you in here, you’re okay. You’re all healed up and I’ll never let them touch you again, you’re gonna be just fine.”

Her shaky breaths got slower as she started to calm down, her hand tenuously reaching down to touch her old wounds. 

She slowly calmed down, her hand grasping a handful of your shirt as if she was afraid you’d leave her. You had no plans on doing so, keeping her as close as you could. 

You did your best to cheer her up, to show her that things really were getting better. “Hey, on the bright side, your legs all healed up. You should be able to leave soon, go back home.”

“What?”

“You’re fine now, you should be able to walk. We can get you back home.” You focused on keeping a pleasant smile on your face, on not showing her how distraught you were of thinking about her leaving, about this place being empty, about not having Posy to come home to.

“Oh. Okay.”

She didn’t speak much after that. You left her alone for days, wanting to give her space to recover, ignoring that nagging feeling in your gut screaming at you to just say something. You refused to push. You would wait for her to speak first, to make the first move. 

She never did. 

Against your better judgment, you left her alone again, setting off to undo as many traps as you could once more. 

When you got back she was gone. 

Panic immediately bloomed in your chest, convinced that someone had gotten to her, that she’d been taken. 

The pile of clean bandages wadded up and thrown in your trash indicated otherwise. 

Maybe you shouldn’t chase after her. Maybe this was what she wanted, to go home to her family and forget all of this. Maybe this was her way of saying she didn’t want to see you again.

You barely even had time to process any of those thoughts before you took off running. 

She hadn’t been careful. Her trail was easy to follow, much easier than it should have been. 

You were out of breath when you came upon her. You knelt in front of her sobbing form, making sure she wasn’t hurt before you spoke. 

“Hey, what… what’s going on? Why did you run, what’s happening?”

She sniffled, trying to wipe the tears from her cheeks. “You dont want me.”

“What?”

“You were just waiting for me to heal and now you want me to leave. I thought you really wanted me.”

“I do! I want you to stay, I thought you would want to leave.”

“Why would I want to leave?”

“To go back to your family, back home. You’re not like me, you have people to go back to.”

“You’re my people. Wait, so you’ll let me stay.”

“Let you? Posy, I want you to stay, I’ve been dreading you leaving ever since you showed up. Besides, with you gone who else would I sav-”

You didn’t get to finish your sentence, it being cut short as the wind was knocked out of you when she tacked you, knocking you on your back as her arms wrapped around you. You could feel her massive smile as she pressed her face into the crook of your neck, kissing you every time she managed to suppress her smile for a moment.

She sat up suddenly, her thighs on either side of your waist, keeping you trapped where you lay.  Her ears were perked up as she grinned down at you

She started talking a mile a minute, the excitement taking over her. “I can take you to meet everyone one of these days, when hunting season is over. I’ll get to show you off. Oh, and I can forage for you. Then you’ll find out how gross all your food is. ”

You snorted. “Posy?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I get up please?”

“Oh. Right, yeah of course.” She helped you to your feet, still eagerly making plans as she grabbed your hand, tugging you behind her as you both headed back home.

#terato #terato writing #jackalope hybrid #bunny hybrid #monster x reader #monster x human #monster girlfriend #monster gf #Disclaimer: do not actually use alcohol to clean a wound #you are not meant to do that despite what fiction has told you #This is a day late #terribly sorry for breaking my promise </3 #This was actually supposed to be the first fic I posted on this blog #It has taken one million years to write lol #As far as the more stilted talking Posy does #I did develop some very fundamental grammar rules for her native language #So that’s why her speech is kind of stilted at the start

[a-straying]

Zandik

#dottore #genshin impact #genshin fanart #fanart #my art #small art account #i know he's terrible im just obsessed with his character i dont condone his actions whatsoever #that being said the way he's interpreted in this one fic has me in a fucking chokehold