#or if the POINT was 'oh they sound weird but they're just stupid kids'

[gamingofkenna]

Oxenfree 2 spoilers, re the 'final choice'

I played the whole game in a solid 7 hour chunk yesterday and I'm still trying to decide how I feel about it, and I'll have to do another playthrough when I can, because there's so much of the way the characters are that seems based on your choices so I wanna see what happens when I make other choices

but I'm seeing that a lot of people let Olivia go through the portal at the end, and that everyone who didn't is saying those who did are monsters for letting this grief-stricken teenager kill herself

and. i don't think there is a 'right' choice at the end there in most circumstances. but i did let Olivia take the radio, because as awful as it felt I just kept thinking that I couldn't do that to Rex

especially since we just had a ghost moment of Rex telling Riley she has to keep fighting, even though she's going to keep failing? to follow that up with 'or you can just kill yourself now to save these kids'? like it is a horrible thing to do to Olivia but it's a horrible thing to do to Rex too?

honestly, based on my playthrough, the 'right' thing seems to be Jacob going through the portal. few players forced him to because apparently the only way for him to do it is if you force him - I didn't even let him come on the island with me. I saw the prompt that I could stop him and immediately knew that if I didn't he would die. Riley kept seeing visions of her future but Jacob never did. Jacob kept talking to me about how he feels he never did anything important in life, how he likes just chilling in his hometown, how he doesn't have any grand ambition but also wants to do something important and meaningful

when that prompt popped up I thought 'if I go to that island I'm getting sucked into this loop too and I'm not coming back; Jacob doesn't deserve that' and I made him stay. I'm curious now if there's a specific dialogue tree that leads to Jacob deciding, at the end, that him going through that portal and saving everyone by doing what he's always been doing is his way of being a hero. but that wasn't the option i'd been given. instead I had two suicidal people, who both had their whole lives in front of them

#oxenfree #oxenfree lost signals #ultimately i think where I'm at now is... the ending kind of felt. forced? in a way that didn't feel entirely believable? #like oh we can just save everyone now except for whoever goes through the portal to sacrifice themself? #how does that make sense honestly? isn't that basically what alex was trying to do in game 1? #like they were just trying to find some way for there to be an impossible decision for the player at the end #even though the how and why of that impossible decision didn't strictly line up #but i only found like half of the letters and im sure theres a ton more lore stuff to uncover #the weird cult stuff also didn't make any sense to me during play?? #i was LAUGHING when we went into the community center and jake was like 'wait this is just... boring astrology stuff??' #like YEAH BUD! thats what ive been saying this whole game!! #every time you or anyone else has been like ooh creepy cult stuff this whole time ive been 'like WHAT' #theres NOTHING to this 'cult' they're KIDS playing with an aesthetic! thats literally it my guy!! #like im still not sure if we were supposed to ever be creeped out by the kids at any point during the game #or if the POINT was 'oh they sound weird but they're just stupid kids' #it does seem very much that thats the theme of the game tho lol #'this sounds big and important and scary but its just idiot kids who dont know what theyre doing puffing their chests'

[rogueddie]

There are a lot of rumors about Eddie Munson. From his sexuality, to his religion, to him being some sort of supernatural creature.

Steve doesn’t put a lot of merit in most of them. They’re usually just bullshit people make up to entertain themselves with whilst beating down on the weird kid. Steve thinks it’s boring… usually.

He’s seen enough weird things happen around Munson to know that something isn’t right. Something about him is unnatural. And Steve is staying clear out of the way of whatever the hell he is, or whatever the hell he’s messing with.

Unfortunately, his friends haven’t gotten the message.

“Do it at your own house!” Steve complains, though he makes no move to stop them. He’s sure it’s nothing, that it’ll only lead to an annoying clean-up job, but there’s a nagging sense of dread writhing in his gut. “This shit is bull anyway.”

“If it’s bull then what’s the problem?” Tommy counters.

“Because none of you dickheads are going to help clean this shit up!”

“I promise to help you clean up,” Carol says. “There. Problem solved. Right?”

"It's still stupid," Steve mutters, glaring at the janky make-shift pentagram they've made. "And a bad idea."

It's drawn on nine pieces of paper- they wanted to draw it big on the floor, but Steve had but his foot down. He lets them use some of his moms candles as a compromise.

With the lights off, sitting with the two of them in a circle, it suddenly feels too real. Even Carol looks suddenly nervous.

Tommy is the only one still smirking, though Steve is sure that it's forced. His voice shakes a little as he begins reading off the paper he'd torn out a library book. His Latin is clunky.

At first, nothing happens.

Long enough that Carol says, "did you even say it right?"

"Yes, it even has-" Tommy starts.

The candles all blow out, suddenly. The light Steve had left on in the kitchen flicks off too, plunging them into complete darkness.

After a horrible moment, where they're still and silent, Carol yelps.

"Don't grab me, Tommy, that's not funny!"

"I didn't grab you."

"Wh- Steve?"

"No," is all Steve can get out.

"I'm turning the lights on," Tommy says. "This is ridiculous."

Steve listens to his footsteps and, when he sounds like he's almost at the light switch, he yelps.

"Fuck this," he says.

"What the fuck, Tommy!" Carol yells when they both hear him running past them. She's up on her feet immediately, chasing after him.

He wants to scream after them, plead with them to come back, that they shouldn't be abandoning the circle.

But, the same gut instinct that insists he stay where he is, keeps his mouth shut. Everything in his being is telling him that if he leaves, if he speaks first, horrible things will happen to him.

Something tuts, like a parent admonishing a child.

The living room light flicks on, so bright that Steve has to blink a few times to clear away the white spots.

Eddie Munson sits in the space they left empty.

"Someone didn't read the terms and conditions," he snickers.

"What..." Steve pauses, clearing his throat. "What are the, uh... terms and conditions?"

"Oh, they're simple, really. Look," he holds up the page Tommy had read the incantations from, pointing to the little paragraph at the end. "They even translated it to English! But all you need to know, big boy, is that you are A-OK."

"And... Tommy and Carol?"

"Eh, they're fine. Lucky, really. I'm trying to relax up here. I'm only gonna pay them back with a minor curse or two. Nothing lethal."

"Fuck."

"We haven't even got to you yet!" He spins around so hes laying on his belly, resting his chin on his palm. "You didn't technically summon me so you can just tell me to leave... or."

"Or?"

"Deal with no consequence, baby. One wish, whatever you want, free of charge. Well... I'd want your silence about the whole... summoning thing. Let's consider that payment."

He doesn't need his gut or book to warn him that it's a bad idea. Munson could be lying, easily. There could be fine print. It's a bad, very bad idea.

"There's... definitely no consequences? I won't, like, go to hell for this?" Steve finally asks.

"Do some charity work for a week, you'll be fine," he says, waving his hand around. "What do you want, King Steve?"

"Could- could you make someone love me?"

"Oh, ho ho ho! Who's the unlucky lady who said no to you?"

"No, it... it's not like that. I mean, um... my mom."

Munsons smile drops. The temperature drops with it, making a chill run up Steves spine.

"Your mom," he repeats.

"They're busy like, all the time," Steve automatically defends. "And they're barely here so, uh... of course they wouldn't- I mean, it's normal, right? You can't love a stranger or... whatever. It's fine. It's just... I don't know."

"Steve..." Munson pauses.

He groans, throwing his head into his hands, dramatically. He almost immediately flings his head back up, hair flying everywhere, giving Steve wide and pleading eyes.

"I can't make people fall in love or any shit like that. I can make illusions, that's it. Love is, like... way out of my jurisdiction."

"I- I'm ok with an illusion. Like, just one day or something."

"Steve, baby, you're breaking my heart."

"Please?"

"Jesus- ok!" Grumbling, Munson shifts so he's kneeling. "And in return, you won't say shit about any of this. Deal?"

"Deal."

"Great. Ugh. This next part is... weird."

"What do you mean, weird?"

"It's weird, I don't know. Deals about, like, love are sealed with a kiss."

"You're joking."

"Nope, and that's not even the weird part. Now, come on and pucker up, let's get this over with." He gestures for Steve to shuffle closer, waiting until they're sat close enough that their knees almost bump together. "You can still change your mind. Anything at all, Steve. Anything."

"I thought you wanted to get this over with?"

"On your head..."

Munson leans forward, kissing him. It's just a peck, simple and easy. No big deal, right?

Steve feels possessed. It's like someone lit a match in his stomach, leaving him lightheaded and confused. He's not sure how he ends up in Eddie's lap, clutching onto his shoulders, desperately trying to lick into his mouth. He feels so-

He wakes up in his bed, the morning light blinding him.

"What the fuck..." he mutters to himself, grabbing at his throbbing head.

At first, he thinks he's hungover. That he'd just had a weird dream... but he's wearing the same clothes. And, sat on his stomach, is a guitar pic. It's got 'corroded coffin' written on it too- Eddie's band.

"Steve!" He hears his mom call. "Time to get up!"

He scrambles out of bed, dashing down the stairs.

She smiles when she spots him, so bright and warm. She even raises an arm, laughing when he practically throws himself into her side and hugging her tight.

"Morning, sweetheart. Good dreams?"

"Yeah. Yeah, great. But, uh... I feel sick."

"Oh no," she frowns. She puts her hand to his forehead, cooing when she brushes his hair out his face. "Is it your stomach?"

"Yeah. Just... might be better to stay home today. If that's ok?"

"Of course it is. I'm sure we can find something fun to do together, yeah? How about we get a vhs movie, hm?"

"I'd love that."

"Great. Well, if you're feeling up to it, I've made breakfast." She steps away, plating the food she's cooked up. "Oh, did I ever tell you about Paris? It was beautiful, you would have loved it. We should bring you, next time we go."

Steve can't stop smiling. He's sure that his cheeks will be aching by the end of the day.

He'll have to thank Eddie- as soon as he can even think about him without blushing. He'll need to ask if it's normal to still feel... affected, even after the deal is done.

Part of him knows it isn't the deal. Part of him is too curious about how Eddie will react.

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #ficlet #creaturefeature

[theminecraftbee]

The problem is, Bdubs can't stop thinking about it, and it's starting to drive him a little insane. "It", here, being the expression of terror on Joe's face, entirely caused by Bdubs, before he realized what was actually going on, and by unable to stop thinking about it, Bdubs means it's haunting him, but not even the scared kind of haunting. The haunting of--

Alright. Back up. So. Normal enough to be a little into the mild suffering of your fellow hermit. That's half the point of Decked Out. Some temporary murder, some ribbing, heck, there's even footage sometimes! And it's not as though, Bdubs thinks, that too many people think weirdly of Tango for watching. For making the game. Really, there's nothing wrong with it!

Nothing wrong with imagining, hey, what if Joe had actually been right to be frightened, and hey, wouldn't it have been nice if he'd actually had the heavy hooves and powerful jaw of the beast he was pretending to be, and could just--

Right. Anyway, Joe got a refund, and Bdubs, he was like, super helpful. The most helpful. A ravager lackey! Joe did die in the end, but it was to vex while Bdubs wasn't even looking! Wasn't his fault. The emotion Bdubs feels about that totally isn't disappointment, because that would be weird. That'd be...

Oh, who's he kidding here, huh? He wishes he'd actually been one of the ravagers. Why else would he be unable to stop thinking about it?

And now he's sitting outside of Decked Out, squinting at the thing. Distantly, he can hear the sound of the dungeon, active. Tango's probably somewhere in there, playing with wires and cackling at whoever running's misfortune, the lucky bastard. And there's--whichever stupid ravagers are in there right now. And they're stupid! Way too stupid to be real threats. Someone smarter, now that could take out Etho! Hah, imagine that! If Bdubs got to take down Etho, or Hypno, or...

Or...

"That stupid prank went messing with my head," mutters Bdubs. "Being a ravager is a stupid idea. This is stupid. I'm going to yell at Tango, for being stupid."

He shudders, for some reason, as he passes over the threshold of the dungeon. Something settles over him.

It won't leave his head.

It won't leave his head.

What if?

He still has the hat. If he uses the back way Tango showed him, it's not like anyone would know, right?

"And those are stupid ideas and how I get possessed," mutters Bdubs, but he doesn't move, and he doesn't stop thinking about it until Gem comes to mock him about being too scared to go in, and he has performative bravery to distract him instead.

(What if? What if? What if?)

#hermitcraft #decked out 2 #bdoubleo100 #a bee fic #anyway. only two ways THIS ONE could end huh?

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Hey, I wanted to ask if you could write Kieran x gender neutral reader. Maybe they were friends when younger, and they met again after the indigo disk plot. But now the reader went from shy with long hair to extroverted with a more goth punk style and short hair. They go to Blueberry Academy with friends, and Kieran is kinda jealous of them, like MC, for it being so easy for them to make friends. So they have a sit down and talk it out with maybe a bit of romance sprinkled in.

I hope this isn't too long!! I really love your writing.

Aw thank you! This is fine and I decided to give Reader a Toxtricity as their partner Pokémon

..........

"Uwaaahh...uhuuuhuuh.."

"H-Hey, um...are you okay?"

Sniffling, the young boy looked up from his knees to see you standing over him, concerned. He tried wiping away his tears, but they just kept coming as he recalled some rather mean words spoken to him.

"I'm..f-fine.." He lied, clutching the broken pieces of his ogre mask.

"Are you sure? Because you're sitting all alone here, away from the festival with a broken mask.." You quietly pointed out, frowning.

"...the..jerks over there did it." He finally admitted, his gaze going to the fenced area where some kids were hanging around. "I-I thought they were my friends...and then they called me stupid for likin' the Ogre from those stories..."

"What? They sound like real bullies."

"A-All I said was that....I didn't think it was a bad guy..and then they...they told me they didn't wanna be my friend anymore...a-and now...I-I don't have ANY friends!! WAAAAAAAAAHHH!!!"

Although you were startled by his bawling, you couldn't help but feel bad for him. Leaving him alone certainly wasn't an option, so you sat down beside him, noticing the small Sentret that was trying to comfort him.

"There, there.." You awkwardly patted his back, feeling your face growing warm. Hopefully this wasn't too weird and you were actually helping this poor guy. "I don't have any friends, either. But I can be yours...i-if you'd like."

With a small hiccup, Kieran looked at you, his golden eyes large and full of tears. "Y-You wanna be my friend?" He sniffled. "Even though I like the "bad guy" of those stories?"

"I don't think there's anything wrong with that." You nodded softly, offering him a tiny smile. "I can relate to the Ogre, too. How lonely it must feel up there in the mountains..and um...how it just wants to be accepted."

He smiled back a little, although he was still depressed over the current state of his mask as he kept staring at it.

"Could I...buy you a new one of those? And a candy apple if you're hungry?"

Blinking, he gazed back up at you, stunned by your generosity. "Y-You don't have to do that.."

"But I want to. I just got my allowance so..I don't mind it." You shrugged, before you heard a familiar cry and looked to see your Toxel hobbling away from the festival grounds...

With candy razz berries on a stick.

"Oh no! Tox.." You bemoaned, huffing as the little baby Pokémon innocently waddled into your arms. "You can't wander off like that..a-and you certainly can't be stealing! You know we gotta pay for this, right?"

"Taahaa.." They cooed, already munching on the sweet treat.

"....fine..I'll let this slide because you're a cutie."

"Is that..a Toxel?"

"...o-oh!" Embarrassed, you turned back to Kieran and showed him Toxel. "Yes..sorry. This is my partner. We've been training a lot lately..but...as you can see, they've got ways to go. Haha.."

"You've done Pokémon battles? Wowzers.." He gazed at it in awe.

"Yeah..have you?" You asked.

".....no. I-I don't know anything about them. They're cool to watch but..I don't think I'll ever be strong enough to fight one myself.." He sighed, petting Sentret on the head. "I'm scared of Sentret getting hurt..e-especially by those..rude people."

At this revelation, your shoulders slumped. "Look....I get it, but if they see that you're afraid to battle, then...they'll just keep pushing you around."

"I know. I-I don't wanna be afraid anymore. But...my grandparents think I'm too young to be a trainer, a-and my sister thinks I'm too weak to even try...so I don't see a point..."

"..my own family doubted me, too." You remarked. "It was hard for Toxel and I, but..we had to go against their wishes. We had to become strong enough to stand up to our bullies..and we did. Now they fear the day this little sweetie grows up into a strong Toxtricity."

With a small coo, Toxel giggled and nuzzled your cheek with their forehead so they didn't accidentally shock you. "Taaaaataaa.."

"Yep." You giggled, before glancing back at Kieran, who looked extremely inspired by your words. "Maybe your Sentret will become a strong Furret someday, too. But...you'll have to train it first."

"And..wh-where do I start, if I may ask?" His voice became even quieter than yours.

"How about after the festival? You and I can have a practice battle."

He blinked. "..l-like tonight? With you?"

"Sure...if you're not busy, of course-"

"Oh no, I-I can definitely do that tonight!"

"Great! We'll just..go over the basics, that's all." You hopped to your feet as Toxel climbed onto your shoulder, and you offered your hand to the boy. "Also I'm sorry for not introducing myself. I'm [y/n]."

"Kieran." He had a shaky smile on his own face as he took your hand, letting you pull him up. "Th-Thanks for cheering me up...I think I'm ready to go back into the hall."

"Alright." With a small chuckle, you tied up your long hair before donning your mask, taking his broken one.

"C'mon, Kieran. First stop is the sweets shop...which candy apple do you like?"

.

.

.

.

"....and in Galar, Toxtricity had the power to Gigantamax. And they could turn into this awesome creature with a HUGE radio tower on their back. Oh, and they attack with a guitar made out of electricity!"

"Oh my Arceus!"

"That is sick!"

"We NEED to take a trip to Galar next year."

"Bro, maybe Piers can give you some more fashion tips. Because the punk is rocking."

"Thanks, haha..maybe I will."

As Kieran walked through the doors to the League Club, he heard the laughter and chatter of a group of people who were gathered at the table. Seeing new faces always caught him off-guard, considering how he somewhat left the organization in shambles..

He wasn't expecting so many to join, let alone scrap together enough BP to change the room's layout and usher in new additions--like that itemizer machine..

But it seems the rest of the Elite Four, plus Florian/Juliana, managed to rebuild the foundation and keep it alive. And even he thought this was for the best, as his burdens as both champion and leader were finally lifted from his shoulders.

While he hated that Paldean for "dethroning" him at first...he was actually relieved.

Now he was spending his time trying to make amends with everybody, feeling ashamed for the way he acted towards them--especially to the club members he took his anger out on. He kicked out one guy all because he couldn't meet his impossible standards.

Kieran did make sure he was back in the club..but even so, it took a while for that kid to forgive him.

He knew it wasn't going to be easy. Some people were still going to be bitter over what he did.

Fortunately, he can now enter the club room without feeling like everyone was staring at him, nor could he sense the heavy tension from the Elite Four as he walked past them. They just greeted him like an old friend before going back to their discussions.

When he was about to introduce himself to your group, however, he froze up the moment your eyes met his own...

At first, he was bewildered by the gothic-punk attire you've managed to incorporate into your uniform, complete with spiky bands and makeup. He's never seen any other student here test the waters of the dress code like you did.

Yet that wasn't what shocked him, but rather...the person underneath all of that.

You looked awfully familiar...

Where has he seen you before?

Funny enough, you were asking yourself that same question as you stared back up at this guy, trying to figure out why he was giving you such an odd look.

At first it seemed judgy.

But then you saw those familiar golden eyes, the black hair with purple highlights....you only ever knew one person with those characteristics.

"No way..Kieran?"

"....[y/n]?" He murmured, stunned. "You..remember me?"

"It took me a second, but wow...it really is you!" You chuckled, leaning back in your chair. "I haven't seen you in years, dude! And I know what you're gonna say...yes, I know I look like a Team Yell member. But I just like the fashion back in Spikemuth. It stuck with me."

"Wowzers...you went to Galar...?"

"Oh yeah. Went there to study and ended up staying a bit longer than I meant to...but it was great." Smiling, you rubbed the top of your head. "I got myself a nice trim while there. It was a much-needed change. Speaking of which....I don't think I've ever seen you with your hair up." You raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah..it was..getting in the way." Kieran brushed back his bangs, still reeling from the shock of seeing his childhood friend here at his school after all these years.

Not to mention how you presented yourself as this confident and boisterous person. Were you really that same shy long-haired friend he knew back in Kitakami?

"[Y/n], you know this guy?"

You both glanced back at your friend group, and you nodded. "Yep. He's an old friend from the Land of Kitakami. Honest to Arceus I had no idea he attended this school..but then again I literally just enrolled today. Either way, it's a nice surprise. Glad to see you again, Ki."

"Same." He nodded, although there seemed to be a certain sadness in his eyes as he stared at the people surrounding you, shoulders slumped. "Anyways, uh...I wanted to welcome you all to the club. I-I'll be back later. Bye, [y/n]."

With a nervous swallow, he quickly turned tail and left the clubroom, while your friends wondered why he looked at them all that way...

You believed you already knew the reason..

But when you saw their confused gazed, you just smiled and shrugged. "Don't worry about him, he's shy."

"Shy? But that guy used to be this school's champion!"

"...no way, really?" Your eyes widened, resting your arms on the tablr as you leaned towards one of your friends. "Tell me more."

.........

At the end of the day, the club was ready to close up shop. Everybody else had left except for you and Toxtricity.

You volunteered to stay late, picking up the messes your friends left behind, such as the opened snacks and sodas (some of them being from Drayton, of course). Amarys did promise you some BP for all your hardwork and willingness to accept responsibility, so that was motivation enough.

Despite the way you look, you weren't always some rebellious punk.

Just as you have both finished and were about to lock the door..you noticed Kieran approaching from down the hall, and he looked rather serious.

Finally, this was your chance to talk to him.

"Oh hey, Ki."

"Hey, [y/n]..is it just you here?" His gaze went past yours, eyes darting around the empty room.

"Nobody but me and Tox." You gestured to Toxtricity, who nodded and smiled, strumming the organs on their chest.

"I see they're all grown up, too." He remarked, sounding a bit more relaxed after realizing nobody else was around.

"That reminds me..how's your Sentret doing?"

"He's a Furret now. And he's doing just fine...but not on my main team, anymore. He's more like...an emotional support Pokémon, I guess?"

"Fair enough." You chuckled as you wrapped an arm around your companion's shoulders. "I learned there was more to Pokémon than just battling. They can be your best buddy, too."

"Right.." Kieran nodded, his smile fading.

You frowned a little. "Listen..I know this is kinda awkward. We haven't spoken in years, and I still feel bad for moving out of Kitakami without-"

"No, it's not that...I'm happy to see you again. I just.." He sighed, looking down at the floor. "You said..today was your first day here, right?"

"Yeah."

"I can't believe you've already made so many friends. It must feel nice.."

You were confused at his rather sour tone of voice, although you were anticipating this sort of confrontation, recalling how often he struggled to make and keep friends--besides you, of course.

But even now, it seems those insecurities never left him.

"D-Did I say that out loud?" Suddenly he tensed up, appearing a little scared. "I'm sorry, you can ignore me. I'm...tired. I-It's been a long day, so I'm just gonna-"

"Wait, Kieran."

Before he could turn around and leave, you took ahold of his arm, and he looked back at you with shock. "They didn't replace you if that's what you're worried about."

"...it's not that, either."

"Then...what is it?"

"You'll think it's stupid...." He mumbled, shaking his head.

"It's not stupid if it's clearly bothering you. Look, let's just..sit down and talk about it, okay? I'm not here to judge."

He blinked at your proposal, but eventually decided to sit at the table with you. Toxtricity crouched down next to your chair so you could pet them on the head.

It took a few moments for Kieran to start talking, yet with your silent encouragement...he finally spoke up.

"How do you make it look so...easy?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean...you have all these friends now while I..." His voice trailed off, fists clenched on the table as he tried to keep himself calm. "..I-I can't name a single one other than you and Florian/Juliana. You'd think becoming champion and club president would make me super popular. But the truth is that it only made me feel more isolated. So how did you do it? How did you become so confident? Is there a secret or some code word I never knew about?"

"There's...no secret, Ki." You responded, your heart sinking. "Friendships just sorta..happen. Like ours did that day those jerks made fun of you at the festival of masks. I guess it was just....up to fate."

"...well I wish fate gave me the same luck as you." He bitterly muttered under his breath.

"Luck? No. That's...look, I'm not popular, and I'd never wanna be. Those people are my only friends here aside from you." You huffed. "I know I've changed since we last saw each other...but I'm still that same kid from before-"

"I barely recognized you, [y/n]." He bluntly pointed out. "We grew up together in the same place...but you went to Galar, changed your whole looks, and made so many friends here on your first day. Then there's me, who...h-hasn't really changed at all." His shoulders became slumped. "I've done things I'm ashamed of, and I'm trying to fix them, but I just feel...stuck. Like I'm never gonna move on from being that whiny little kid from Kitakami who keeps wishing he was somebody else.."

Your gaze softened a little, finally understanding his perspective. "Well..I personally don't see that anymore. I see you're trying to change for the better, and that's great. You should be proud of that."

Kieran blinked as your hand came to rest over his own, his heart skipping a beat. Yet he kept his focus on you and your comforting smile, despite finding it difficult to see the truth in your words.

He could feel that self-doubt festering inside him again.

"But..y-you don't know what I-"

"People here told me such awesome things about you, and I almost couldn't believe them."

He stared at you. "What? Really?"

"Yeah, dude! You never told me how your team uses a competitive setup with Rain Dance on the first turn...or how your Applin is all grown up into a Hydrapple. Hell, I didn't even know that was an existing evolution until today, so you taught me something new-"

However, you stopped rambling upon hearing a small sniffle coming from your friend. You then saw his lips trembling as he tried pushing back tears with his sleeve.

Internally you began to panic. "Ki? What's wrong?"

"I-I'm sorry. It's just....everybody here talks about my Pokémon and battle tactics all the time, but never about me." He whimpered. "I-I want people to like me for....me, you know?"

You nodded sympathetically, gently squeezing his hand. Guilt swelled in your heart as you never realized how lonely he must've felt since you left...and right now you probably made him feel ten times worse.

"You really are a great guy, though. Anyone would be lucky to get to know the real you."

"........."

Now you were a bit stumped on what to say next, as he was staring at the table now, sniffling like a little kid. And you began wracking your brain for any possible way you could cheer him up.

Then an idea sprung into your mind.

You were going to save it for a later occasion, but...now seemed to be the right time.

Even Toxtricity agreed with you, as they nudged your arm with a low growl, wishing you'd finally fess up and let him know how you truly felt about him.

Your heart was beating fast, but you pushed away the nerves and momentarily let go of his hand to retrieve a pokeball from your bag. He seemed too caught-up in his own thoughts to notice, still wiping away his tears.

"But y'know what could be better than having friends?"

With watery eyes, Kieran managed to look at you straight on. "What?"

You didn't say a word, instead turning his hand over and placing a love ball into his palm. He looked at you with confusion, before gasping as the device suddenly opened on its own to reveal....

A Shiny Applin.

"Wowzers.." He gawked. "So this is what their shinies look like??"

"Yep. Straight from Galar."

"The love ball is an interesting choice.." He remarked, watching as the Applin jumped onto the table and gazed at him. "But..while I appreciate the gift, I-I....don't really see how owning a shiny is gonna help-"

"Oh, so he doesn't know, Tox..." You whispered to your companion, who simply snickered back.

"Tahaahaa.."

"....know what?" Kieran's eyebrows furrowed as he noticed the smirks you and Toxtricity were exchanging, growing more and more confused and concerned. "Can someone explain?"

"In Galar, people give Applins to each other as a romantic gesture." You stated bluntly, feeling your face burn up....but you prayed he would finally get the hint.

It took him about five seconds, his jaw dropping. "What??? Y-You.....really see me that way?" His heart began racing all over again. "Why me, though?"

"I like you for you, Ki. And that's all there is to it." You leaned forward to kiss him on the cheek, watching as his eyes went wide and his blush worsened. "Hm, I guess that shy little cutie is still in there after all."

"C'mon..stop that.." Huffing, he shrunk back into his jacket in a vain attempt to hide his flusteredness. "I-I do like you, too."

"I'm glad, and I promise..I'm sticking around for a long, long time." You looked to Toxtricity, who strummed a small riff on their chest. "I owe Tox one for finding that love ball for me. I was gonna save it for some fairy type, but...I think I found a better use for it."

All Kieran could do was smile and nod, taking your hands into his own. While he was still too flushed to properly speak, he was nowhere near as sad as he was before your confession.

You were right.

This was a LOT better than having friends.

Because now he had you.

While both of your looks and personalities have definitely changed, the love and care you had for each other never did.

#clanask #anonymous #pokemon x reader #pokemon sv x reader #pokemon scarlet x reader #pokemon violet x reader #indigo disk x reader #pokemon kieran #pokemon kieran x reader

[storywriter007]

(Part 1) Part 2 - You Used to Avoid Me Too (Percy Jackson x Fem!Reader, Leo Valdez x Fem!Reader)

summary: in which y/n finds clarity in her time away from percy.

warnings: cursing, inappropriate humor, mention of the dead, toxic relationship, etc

genre: sadness turned into happiness ig???

word count: 912

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y/n walked out of percy's cabin, not exactly sure what she was feeling. she was sad, but she was angry, but was she finally in a state of clarity? who knew? she looked around a couple of times, hoping no one heard the ruckus that had just occurred. tears fell from her eyes. she saw a shadowy figure stare at her for a brief minute before it disappeared.

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

"y/n! it's time for breakfast!" one of her cabinmates yelled.

"coming!" y/n yelled back, hoping that the cold water had washed away the redness in her eyes.

she began walking to the pavilion, but felt a strong urge to turn around when she saw him.

him with the dark hair and bright eyes walking happily to breakfast as if he hadn't destroyed whatever hope she had in him the night before.

y/n grabbed her breakfast and began walking down to her table, unfortunately having to pass percy on her way there.

"i heard so much noise from percy's cabin yesterday." one kid said.

"my boy got it on last night!" the other kid exclaimed, the table bursting out in laughter.

perfect timing y/n thought as she walked by, suddenly not feeling hungry anymore. she took the apple and walked out of the pavilion and to the lake.

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you're not annabeth. you're not her.

those six words replayed in y/n's mind as tears began to fall from her eyes. why would someone even say such a thing?

she felt someone come sit beside her. not wanting to show her tear stained face, she quickly wiped her cheeks and put on a smile.

"i like your smile." the person said.

y/n turned to see leo. a wave of shock passed through her body, but she didn't show it.

"thank you." she smiled.

"but it doesn't hide your tomato eyes." he laughed.

y/n chuckled too.

"what're you doing out here?" he asked.

"just sitting. looking at the view." she responded.

"with a side of crying?"

"maybe."

"i heard you guys last night."

oh great y/n thought.

"we did not 'get it on-'" she started.

"i know. you guys were fighting. pretty badly, i'll add. i heard the glass and the yelling. i saw-"

y/n thought back to yesterday night and remembered there was some shadow walking around.

"you saw me." she sighed. "fuck."

"ing? i thought that's what didn't happen." he laughed.

"haha, very funny." she rolled her eyes.

"i heard the things he said." he started. "i don't think he's right."

"but isn't he? i wasn't what he was looking for and i was stupid enough to think i was."

"you can't change yourself to be what he misses. your job isn't to be the past, it's to be the present and the future."

"i don't even know. i'm so upset. he didn't even love me in the first place and for some reason, i feel like that's so much worse than falling out of love with me. i would've known he cared at one point. but now, i know he never ever did." she chuckled. it made more sense aloud. "and, i hope this doesn't sound mean, but why do you care? you used to avoid me too."

"yeah i did, but that didn't mean i wanted to." he answered.

"explain?"

"percy's my bro, so first, i just stayed away because he wanted me to. i never knew the real reason until he started saying a bunch of weird shit."

"like what?"

"stupid shit. like, 'y/n's hair is different' or 'y/n got a question wrong in math.' it was like he was subtly comparing you to annabeth, while trying to not completely give himself away. i lost respect for him first when he said you were only good during the nighttime, if you know what i mean. i think i lost a more respect for him when he said, and i quote, 'do you guys ever pretend someone is someone else? but then they're not like that person and it gets you pissed off?'"

y/n knew her tears were falling down her face again.

"then i was like, fuck this, i need to ask if y/n's alright. if he's saying all this, you must've been like a victim."

"mhm." she nodded. "i don't even know what i did wrong."

y/n buried her face into her hands as breathing became difficult.

"wait, hey-don't cry!" he panicked. "i mean, percy's stupid anyways. well i know i'm stupid, but he's like really stupid-" he started, trying to wipe away y/n's tears with his hands. "you didn't hear this from me, but he's obsessed with someone who's six feet under, maybe seven, she was kinda tall. it's like necrophilic at this point-"

y/n chuckled at that.

"if anything, he can take the gravestone and shove it up his ass." he smiled.

y/n gave him a weak smile as her tears slowly reduced.

"i'll see you around camp." leo said, getting up and reaching a hand out for her.

she took it, getting up.

"see you around leo." she smiled.

as they both went their seperate ways, y/n just couldn't stop smiling. she looked around as she walked back to the main area of the camp. she saw percy, sword fighting with jason. as she walked by, she locked eyes with percy.

"y/n!" he yelled "can we talk? please?"

"i would love to but i think you've got a gravestone shoved up your ass!" she yelled back.

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pt 2 because you guys requested ittt. it just hurts to make leo the bad guy so we cleared his name up <3

hope you guys like it lowkey gonna write more angst now

#angst #percy jackson #heroes of olympus x reader #heroes of olympus #leo valdez #annabeth chase #percy jackson x reader angst #reader x percy jackson angst #fluffy #pjo #pjo fluff #percy x y/n #percy jackson x y/n #percabeth #heartbreaking #happy

[lovrily]

hii!! i absolutely love your writing!! 😍 can i request a fic please with steve x fem!reader. mutual pining but they dont know with soulmate au. but steve is the first one who finds out that they're soulmates. thank youu <33

this is so sweet i love it thank u for requesting <3 i'm sorry it took so long, i'm in uni so i haven't had much time to write!! i hope this is similar to what you wanted!! - steve x fem!reader, 4000 words

the fact is that steve harrington knew you were soulmates the first time you opened your mouth, but he thought following that intuition would be corny, so he did not. instead, he let it eat him alive for a decade like a parasite, which made more sense to him to do. in the beginning, at least.

"hi."

this was fourth grade. you and steve had been in the same elementary school classes since kindergarten, and he knew who you were- but not well. you bounced between being quiet and loud; from sitting silently on the school bus with your head rattling against the window, to bouncing around the playground, coattails flapping in the autumn wind. all kids were like this, it seemed. elementary school flew by in a haze of long division, scraped knees, and complementary shaved ice. at the end of the day, every kid would end up talking to one another, at some point, shy or not. but this was the first time you had ever spoken to him.

steve bristled. "hey."

it was an incredibly fascinating phenomenon, you would later realize. the capacity of a child to fall in love with somebody they'd only spoken to once, and for it to never go away, even when adulthood made you strangers.

steve sniffled, cold october wind scratching his cheeks. he had an arm wrapped around the frozen metal pole of the jungle gym, his friends dangling about behind him.

"um," you started. "my friend dropped her journal down there and she's afraid to go get it."

you pointed at the mulch inside the dome of the jungle gym, then to your friend, who was whisper screaming profanities at you for saying, "she's afraid to go get it."

"i'm sorry!" you whispered back.

your frightened eyes followed the trail of mist your breath left in the icy air, dazedly. then you squinted against the breeze, trying not to stare at steve. you didn't want him to think you were weird, and you wouldn't ever have been brave enough to talk to him had your friend not begged for her journal back.

steve swallowed. he heard his heart in his ears; thump, thump. he liked the way you wobbled in the cold, nose all scrunched up as if it would somehow keep you warm.

"you want me to go get it?" he asked. "the journal?"

"yes!" you responded. "if you can. please. thank you."

steve dove into the jungle gym and retrieved the diary like it was a matter of national security. when he returned, valiantly, he banged his head against a rung of the jungle gym and hissed. you gasped, the sound a sharp wheeze.

"are you okay?"

"yeah, didn't hurt. s'fine."

he handed you the journal. the tip of your thumb poked his knuckles when you grabbed it. thump, thump.

"okay," you nodded. "well, thanks. thank you."

"yeah, no problem. you- do you need anything else?"

your lips crept up, threatening to make the widest grin you had ever grinned in your life, but you scrunched them down. don't look stupid.

"oh, no, just this. that's okay."

"okay. just checking."

you blinked at him, then sniffled, wiping your sleeve across your nose. "okay, bye."

steve saw an entire life before him, then; prom, marriage, a mortgage. she's so pretty.

"bye."

that's all he said.

steve's friends laughed like hyenas at him once you had gone. and your friend had dove off the jungle gym to chase you across the field and hiss, "hey, y/n, he definitely likes you!"

you weren't so sure. but you wished he did; that you were sure of.

. . .

steve decided he was going to marry you if you said yes. well, in a few years, at least. he definitely wasn't going to ask you before middle school. that was too early.

middle school came and went and he realized that, regretfully, middle school was also too early to ask a girl to marry you. but he wasn't asking you anything. at all. you never talked to him; and he wondered if it was something he did. he saw you in class, and in the hallways. he saw you help your friends carry their books, and pick the fuzz out of their hair when they couldn't see that it was there. you were kind. he watched your presentations and how your hands shook when you spoke. he wondered why you wouldn't talk to him, if it was because you didn't want to.

"she's just quiet, man," his friends would say. "you gotta' approach her. and, i mean, why would you even wanna' be with a girl like that? sounds boring."

after that, he didn't mention you anymore. to anyone. he didn't like it when his friends poked fun at you, and he especially didn't like that he never knew what to say in return. you were shy, it seemed. or, maybe, you just didn't like him.

or, maybe, you've only talked to her once in your life and if you just talked to her again, she would be your friend.

he decided that this was ridiculous. it was better to never speak to you again, and not have to deal with the scorn of rejection from a girl he had been in love with since age ten.

better to say nothing.

. . .

steve's infatuation became impossible to ignore when you started babysitting max mayfield.

in the fall of 1984- your sophomore year- max's mother contracted you (at a very discounted rate) to watch max when billy, her step brother, could not. at first, this wasn't overly often; just the occasional ride to school and microwaved television dinner. you liked max, and despite her cold exterior, she seemed to like you. when billy realized he could get you to watch max more often at even further discounted rate (a.k.a. no rate at all), he forced her on you more often. what were you supposed to do? refuse to watch her, and let her sit at home by herself? knowing max, she wouldn't sit at home, anyway. she would go find trouble. of course you watched her, even when billy gave you no choice.

this is how you ended up babysitting on halloween.

unbeknownst to you, it was steve's neighborhood that you were wandering through that night. max had gone to meet up with her friends; mike wheeler, lucas sinclair, dustin henderson, will byers- whom you had never seen her hang out with before. she seemed to think they would all be happy to see her, but apparently, some of them were not.

"mike is such an asshole," max huffed.

she kicked at the dirt along the side of the road as you walked. you folded your arms over your chest, fists bundled in your sleeves, hair whipping over your eyes. her michael myers mask dangled in your hand. you hadn't expected to be out all night, you hadn't expected to be working on halloween at all. not that you had other plans to attend to, or anything you would rather be doing, but you hadn't dressed for the weather. a zip-up hoodie was all that shielded you from the brisk wind, erring on the side of winter rather than fall that halloween.

"i believe you," you snickered.

"good. i just don't understand why he has to be such a dick. i mean..."

she continued to flay mike as you meandered down the interstate, having wandered completely away from the sidewalk and any neighborhood you were familiar with. anxiety beat in your chest and pooled in your belly. it had to be close to midnight, and you were nowhere near home. you had to turn around.

"hey, max-"

she ignored you for the distraction of flashing red lights. you had come upon a house; swathes of people milling about outside and dancing dangerously close to the uncovered pool. bodies in bloody corsets and leather jackets swarmed the grass and filled up the windows like paintings. your stomach sunk.

this was steve's house. you just knew it. you didn't know how you knew, but you knew. he always had halloween parties, and everybody came to them. and though you hadn't spoken to steve since, well, elementary school, probably- you didn't want him knowing you had nowhere to go on halloween night. and you certainly didn't want to be seen at his halloween party that everybody was invited to except you.

rightfully so. you weren't friends. he wouldn't want to be my friend.

"oh, shit," max murmured. "whose house is this?"

"i don't know," you mustered. "it's late, though. i'd love to berate mike some more, but we should probably head back towards your house while we do it."

"hey!"

oh, god.

"no fuckin' way," a voice surmised, sauntering over with staggering feet. he was tall, lanky like a pole, blonde as cornsilk. he wore a cheap costume- a blue muscle tank and two fraying boxing gloves. a troupe of boys followed him, each drunker than the last. "i know you!"

"do you?" you laughed, trying to sound unphased. you knew him. he was on the basketball team, one of steve's friends, though you didn't know his name. you wondered if you were about to become the victim of some outrageous, hollywood instance of bullying; like when kids got their skulls smashed in lockers or drowned in toilets in movies.

"yeah. you look alright, huh? never seen you out anywhere before, though. what's that costume? some kinda' track girl?"

thump, thump. your heart was in your ears and your throat. they laughed as you gazed over their heads, scanning the yard. thankfully, steve wasn't around. nancy. he was probably with his girlfriend, nancy.

"you're steve's girl," slurred the blonde.

max glowered. "she's what?"

i'm what?

you blinked like your eyelids weighed a thousand pounds. "no, i'm not."

"yeah you are. he talks about you, like, all the fucking time. well, not so much anymore. cuz' of miss nancy."

the troupe of boys fawned and groaned, mocking and kissing. their laughter filled your ears, an awful sound. they were making fun of you, right? they had to be.

"don't be an asshole," griped max.

they laughed even harder.

"seriously, i'm not joking. he's been talking about you for, like, years. he's obsessed."

your cheeks flared hot and red. there was no hiding your humiliation anymore, no reason to pretend you weren't upset. they could see it. everybody could. how is it possible that you could have made such an awful impression in the fourth grade that steve had been making fun of you for six years? was it that obvious that you had a crush on him?

you positioned max on your left to shield her from the drunken boys and tried to walk away.

"y/n-" max lamented.

"it's fine. no big deal," you whispered.

"goddamn," drawled the blonde boy. "makes sense why he gave up on you. can't even hold a conversation. not nearly fuckin' hot enough to be acting like th-"

the punch that followed landed like a hammer on stone.

you whirled around, clutching max by her shoulders like it would do anything to protect her. the sight before you was something out of dreams and nightmares.

the blonde boy was being hoisted off the ground by two scantily clad firemen, blood dripping from the sweaty skin between his upper lip and nostrils. and it had been steve harrington who'd thrown the punch.

he backed up slowly at first, ringing out his fist like a rag. a black suit was snuff against the breadth of his shoulders, dark hair flopping into his eyes. his eyes scrunched up for a moment, lashes fluttering, and he cursed under his breath. damn. that had to hurt.

you pictured a brunette boy with rosy cheeks, squinting through the cold like it burned him, leaning against a jungle gym.

steve looked at you and you backed away like you would be next. obviously, you wouldn't be. but when he looked at you, his eyes were painted red.

"you alright?" his gaze flashed to the little girl beside you, confused. "both of you?"

he was out of breath. suddenly, you were too. what hell is this?

"yeah," you blurted. "yes. we're fine. i'm so sorry, i don't even know what-"

you took to long to finish your thought. i don't even know what's going on, i don't even know what he meant. why have you been making fun of me?

"i don't know what he said," steve panted. "whatever it was, it's bullshit. he's a dick. don't-"

he faltered.

"i'm sorry," steve scathed. "i don't know what all he said."

"it's okay," you shook your head.

"no." he wiped a hand over his eyes. "it's not-"

"harrington!" the blonde boy shouted. "get your ass over here! now!"

steve kept his eyes on you. "you sure you're okay?"

"we're fine," you nodded, pulling max away, eager to be anywhere else. your head was reeling. "we'll go. it's really alright. we'll just go. don't...don't break your hand."

he made an odd face at you; something amused and furious. you spotted a black glint on the ground. his sunglasses.

you picked them up and held them out. he took them, and your thumb brushed against his knuckles.

thump, thump.

"don't break your hand," you repeated. "just, don't- be...i have to get her home. i'm sorry. thank you."

you took off, max dragging behind you, and halfway home she started cackling. "what the hell was that about?"

. . .

the next summer, babysitting max mayfield turned into babysitting all of her friends, and by then, you were irrevocably intertwined with the upside down, steve harrington, and apparently, russia. you'd seen it all. the demogorgon, the demodogs, steve's bat of one-thousand nails. you'd met eleven, whose pixie cut had grown into a bob, and then bangs. you'd watched her move away, the byers along with her. all of it, you had been there for.

but you refused to befriend steve.

it was the most ridiculous situation (as it always was with the two of you) and you had no idea why. you had no idea why his friends had made fun of you at the halloween party, why your one conversation in elementary school had led him to be so disgusted by you, why, no matter what you did; every class attended, every step taken, every word spoken, every alien-abomination killed- led you back to steve harrington.

steve knew why, of course. you were soulmates. but you hated him. so what was he supposed to do about it? you never talked to him; not when you brushed shoulders hiding from demodogs on an abandoned bus, not when you helped haul him out of the starcourt mall movie theater, his intoxicated head bouncing against the crook of your neck.

he thought about that every time he saw you.

and robin buckley knew all about it. when steve finally caved and told her everything, it was clear to her. she knew, without a doubt, that the two of you were just idiots. and no matter how corny it was, you were definitely soulmates. for better, or for worse.

actually, she knew it before he ever told her. all anyone had to do was watch the two of you.

each time you came to scoops ahoy that summer, steve scooped you a serving of black raspberry chip in a plastic bowl, without you having to order. (he'd seen you ask for it once when robin was working the counter, and had prepared it for you every time since). you were polite each time, saying thank you, you didn't have to do that. and steve would say, oh, no problem. you would turn to whichever kid you were babysitting that day and say, it's my favorite. and each time, steve would smile. but he would turn away and pretend to be scrubbing the sink- which made you think you had pavloved him into giving you your favorite ice cream each time he saw you, that you were holding him hostage somehow, because he pitied you.

this was not the case.

on the occasions in which upside-down business relegated you to riding in steve's car, you always sat in the back, passenger's side, where he could see you in the mirror. steve prefered to drive with the windows down. but his eyes would flick to the mirror, to where you sat in the back. when your hair swallowed your head, the summer breeze blowing it into your eyes and mouth, you never complained. but steve always watched. he rolled the windows up whenever the wind was too strong, without a word.

there was more. when you climbed the rope out of the upside-down into eddie's trailer, he lingered below, hands outstretched incase you fell. when you accidentally snagged your finger on a splinter at the creel house, he set down band-aids and neosporin on the coffee table, and waited around the corner incase you asked for help.

he recognized your favorite shirts. he never touched you without asking, even on accident, even to help. he never made a joke without looking to see if you were laughing. he listened to every word you spoke; to him, to the others, to yourself, but he never pried. he never sat close to nancy when you were in the same room, or robin, even- on the off chance you thought there was something there. he knew your favorite songs, and would search for them on the radio without saying anything. and when you were in danger, he always got you behind him; even if you didn't notice.

"grow the fuck up, steve, just TALK to her."

steve blinked, robin's open-mouthed expression the picture of exhaustion. he swallowed.

"yeah, whatever. okay? i'm not scared."

"don't be dense."

"i'm not dense."

"just tell her you like her," robin huffed.

they were folding clothes at the school, putting them in boxes to donate. vecna had torn a hole in the sky, crimson kindling behind the pewter clouds outside. a storm was coming. things might never get back to normal.

there might never be another moment quiet enough to tell you the truth.

steve nodded. "yeah," he muttered, not unkind. "i guess you're right."

robin threw a bra at him.

. . .

what kind of creep would follow you home in the middle of the apocalypse?

you balled your fists at your sides, charging ahead. the wheeler's house was only a block away, and with no car, you had to go on foot to pick up the remainder of their donations. you were out of breath, sweat beading on the back of your neck, happy and angry to be alone all at the same time. the sky looked like it was bleeding, and everything was changing. so much had already changed, but nothing that you wanted to.

you were aware of the guy's presence behind you, his body a wall of heat, his shadow casting a long grey ghost on the pavement in front of you. his hair flopped over his eyes like some sort of catalogue model, the imprints of his sleeves shown rolled up to his elbows. what a dick.

he'd been following you for about thirty seconds. you were the only person sent to the wheeler's to gather donations, and if this stranger had tagged along for that purpose, he would have told you by now.

you sped up. he sped up. you started running. he reached out his hand, as if to grab the back of your jeans.

you hauled around a wound up a smack that would tattoo your palm-print on his cheek forever.

steve seized your arm.

"what the hell?"

you sucked in a breath. "steve?"

"jesus christ," he panted, glancing between your eyes and your wrist inside his fingers. "you could have killed me."

"oh my god," you breathed out. he released you instantly, and you put your hands on your knees, bending. "oh my god."

"are you okay?"

"shut up! just shut up!"

"okay," he nodded. "okay. just-" he rubbed a hand down his face. "jesus, fuck," he murmured.

"i'm sorry," you stood. lunged closer, lungs deflated like old balloons. "steve. oh my god. i'm sorry."

"no!" he scoffed. "don't be sorry. it's my fault. fuck. i don't know why i didn't say anything, i should have said something."

"i thought you were following me!"

"i was," he nodded. swallowed, like there was a rock in his mouth.

you panted. "oh."

"well, yeah, i-" he squinted. for the briefest, briefest moment, his pupils flicked from your eyes to your lips, swollen in the sun. "fuck."

it was enough. that, right there, that was enough. you suddenly understood.

you saw that stupid brunette boy squinting on the playground, his lips chapped from the cold, his cheeks red as irons. you saw him with blood on his knuckles, staggering away from the friend he had just mauled. you saw his hand outstretched; handing you ice cream, opening the car door, lingering around your wrist.

he hadn't been making fun of you all those years. he liked you.

idiot.

everything bubbled to the surface; you had so much to say but so little at the same time. you were so embarassed, still embarassed, after all this time, after everything.

stop it, you thought. get over it. do something.

so you made a choice.

"kiss me."

his eyes nearly popped out of his head. "sorry?"

you couldn't even repeat it. nerves shot through you like lightning, seizing your heart, making your hands shake.

"if you want to, i mean. obviously. i thought- only if you want to-"

"i want to," he breathed.

"you do?"

"are you kidding me? are you joking?"

you grimaced. "no."

"y/n," steve softened. like a lament, like it was the first time he'd ever said your name. his brows knit together.

he didn't finish his thought. he just did what you asked.

when he kissed you, the two of you locked into place; slotted together like twin shards of broken glass, reunited. his mouth was surprisingly cool despite the blazing heat around you, like his nervousness was palpable, cold to the touch. his hands shook, grazing over your shoulders, your waist, the back of your neck, unsure of where to touch first, like he wouldn't have the chance to touch you anywhere ever again. he landed with one hand on the back of your neck, your hair spilling between his fingers, and the other around your waist, holding you close.

you ducked away for a breath and thought he might cry.

"i have to ask you," you panted.

"yeah, anything," steve breathed.

"at the halloween party, when you hit that guy. you liked me."

"what? of course. always. i always have. i should have said so. i'm so stupid."

"no, you're not. don't say that."

his hands shifted, palms on either side of your face.

"but you weren't making fun of me," you said, even though it was stupid. his pupils were darting across every point of your face- your nose, your cheeks, your chin. "and he wasn't making fun of me. not until the end, at least."

steve's face crumpled. "you're killing me, y/n."

"he meant it?" you grinned. "you did like me? the whole time?"

"for a decade, killer." he grimaced. "stop looking at me like that."

"like what?"

"like that's a good thing. i should've killed him for talking to you like that."

"no," you laughed, because he obviously didn't mean it.

"yeah, i should have. yes."

maybe he did mean it.

you kissed him this time, and you felt him shudder; his fingers twitching across your face. when you pulled back, he ran his fingers over your closed eyes, grazing your eyelashes.

"i'm sorry," he whispered.

"me too," you said softly. "i should have said something."

"no," he shook his head. "no. that's on me."

the two of you sat there for a moment longer. the sky had darkened overhead, the crimson behind the clouds now a shade the color of wine, dark and murky. heat lightning flashed like sirens. hawkins was imploding.

"this town is ridiculous," you muttered.

"i know," steve huffed. like he'd been waiting years to say it. "it's hot as hell. where are you going?"

"the wheeler's, for donations."

"i'll walk you. if you want. next to you, though, not behind you like a creep."

you tried not to grin. "oh, will you?"

steve shook his head, casting you an incredulous look as he fell in line beside you on the sidewalk. "nothing you say could embarrass me, at this point. absolutely nothing."

"why not?"

because i was right, he wanted to say. because i've known we were soulmates since the fourth grade.

actually, it was still extremely embarrassing, so he kept the thought to himself- despite the enormous amount of relief and euphoria it brought him. you'd missed prom, but marriage and a mortgage didn't seem so far off, as long as the world didn't end.

steve just shook his head instead. "nothing. hey, are you following me?"

"shut up!"

. . .

i haven't written in so long i hope this is similar to what you asked for!!! i wanted to write more than just a drabble so i expanded on it i hope that's okay. much love. mwah

#steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington drabble #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x you

[prettyboysdontlookatexplosions]

i hope this isn't a weird ask, but i'm looking for some hope. i consider myself really fucking stupid. i don't think i have good "critical thinking" skills, or even good reading comprehension. do you think it's possible to get better at those things?

as i mentioned earlier, my answer is yes. as i also mentioned, i genuinely think that the fact that you are less than confident about your skills in these areas is itself valuable and not as common as it probably should be. i have worked with a fair number of kids, both in the elementary school classroom and in the upper grades for test prep stuff, whose reading comprehension isn't great, but who genuinely do not seem to notice there is anything off about their reading until they have to answer questions about it. they're in the habit of just glossing by a lot of stuff and not noticing. i have met kids who would swear to you they love to read who cannot accurately recount what actually happens in the scene they just read, but who seem pretty confident that what they're doing is reading. so if you're going around reading stuff and thinking, "hey, that's confusing" - congratulations! you are great at self-assessing your own comprehension. this is REALLY HARD for a lot of people to do.

i also think it's actually important to NOT think of either reading comprehension or critical thinking as a binary on/off switch, where you're either good at it or bad at it. both of these things are spectrums. in addition, both of these things are context dependent. there are a lot of things i have pretty good reading comprehension for. there are also types of text where my reading comprehension is straight-up bad: scientific papers published for other scientists to read; philosophy or literary theory of any kind; poetry. i tried to reread laura mulvey's original "male gaze" essay because i suspected people were using the concept wrong both in its favor, and i couldn't meaningfully follow its argument (although i think i am probably right because i don't really believe that many randos are so much better at interpreting freudian film theory than i am, lmao). these are all examples of texts where i don't have a lot of background knowledge in the subject area or a lot of experience reading this kind of thing. they are also mostly things i don't care enough about to put in the time and effort to get better at. (sometimes i think about trying to do this with poetry, but i have not prioritized this yet, to say the least.)

critical thinking also depends majorly on familiarity with a topic or at least with a field. i'll give you an example. on the podcast maintenance phase, the hosts attempt to apply critical thinking to common perceptions of scientific research. some of their points are good, and many of them sound convincing to me, a person who doesn't know a lot about science. but i soured on the podcast over time largely because on the subreddit for the show, an attempt at a scientific deep dive often brought at least one person who was like, "i have some expertise in this field and they are wrong." sometimes this is about interpreting a specific study (or, uh basic factual shit like the definition of a word), but a lot of times it's about big picture stuff that is hard to think about if you don't have experience in the field. one recent example that interested me was regarding a study done on ozempic. the hosts mentioned that in the trial, (iirc) two people died. sounds scary and not great! someone on reddit pointed out, though, that this was a very large study that recorded deaths for any reason - it's probably not statistically anomalous that two out of however many people died, and there's no evidence to indicate that ozempic had anything to do with it. i appreciated this science-minded redditor because i definitely listened to the episode and was like, wow! scary! but when i read that explanation i was like, oh, okay, yeah.

i am not any kind of expert, and i guess you didn't technically ask for advice, but here are some things that may or may not be helpful.

with regard to reading comprehension:

struggle is a normal part of reading, especially of reading complicated texts. if you are struggling with a text, it does NOT mean you "have bad reading comprehension" or are fucking up. it indicates you have good self-awareness about your own level of comprehension.

i don't have research on this one. this is speculation. but my hunch is that for people who have a certain baseline level of reading comprehension, reading things that are challenging to understand over time increases the amount of stuff you can read easily. i was definitely better at reading books by historians at the end of my history degree than i was at the start. and honestly, i was also better at it after i spent like a year obsessively reading books about new york city history than i was when i graduated!

related to that, it's okay to understand something mostly but not all the way!

it's also okay to determine your own goals for understanding, and spend your time appropriately! i have a terrible visual imagination so to really fully "comprehend" any passage in any novel that describes the layout of a room, i would have to get a notebook out and draw it. i'm not gonna do that. (weirdly, though, i often love reading that shit anyway, haha.)

there is a lot of research out there emphasizing the importance of background knowledge to comprehension. (natalie wexler has written a book about this i haven't read, along with some articles i have read.) the scary way to look at this link is, "oh no, how can i learn all the things i need to know?" the awesome and exciting way to look at it is, every time you learn something, it widens the circle of things you can read, which means it widens the circle of things you can learn about, which means you can keep leaning.

you can also google stuff. one time i was confused by a book's explanation of a government policy so i googled and found some articles that covered it in more detail. (and also discovered that the specific example the book had used had been phased out of the law by the time it was published, lol.)

there are some strategies that have been found to increase reading performance, but the research around these is mostly around them as teaching strategies. my favorite reading guy timothy shanahan has speculated that the thing the strategies all have in common is they're ways of getting kids to actually pay attention when they read. the main strategy i think has value for people who want to get better at reading on their own is summarizing. every so often, take a moment to put into your own words what you've just read. how often will depend on what you are reading and how challenging it is. every paragraph is a often a good benchmark for something dense, especially as you are getting used to reading like this. every page or every chapter might be more appropriate for something like a novel. there have been times when i've done this sentence by sentence because something was really fucking dense! (a general note: this can also help people who feel their reading comprehension is mostly fine but have a lot of trouble remembering what they read. when i started doing this kind of thing consciously it improved my recall a lot, and i had a decent memory for textual information to begin with.) (if you REALLY want a power-up, taking notes is great, but most people understandably don't want to do this for their recreational reading.) over time there is also a good chance that you'll start doing this more fluidly and automatically as you read and not have to choose to do it consciously as much. but if not that's ok!

a strategy that is not always a natural fit for reading on your own but can be useful for certain kinds of reading is setting yourself questions to answer and then seeing if you can answer them. obviously, this typically makes more sense as a teaching strategy because how can you know what a text will contain until you read it? but there are times you can make a pretty educated guess, or stick to a really basic thing like "what is [thing this is promising to explain]?" i once picked up a particular NYC history book because it had been cited somewhere else as containing an account of the consolidation for the five boroughs. it was a really dense book and i decided that while i probably wouldn't retain many of the details its covered, i really wanted to learn from this book the author's answer to why the boroughs became one. four years later i still remember most of the reasons he gave! (harbor maintenance; economic competition with other large cities; a belief in some quarters that brooklyn would be a good influence on the manhattan political machine; i think there was one or two more but i'm 95% sure those were the ones cited as being most important.)

look up words! honestly tutoring has made ME realize how many words out there i "sort of" know but can't provide great definitions for, lol. a site i always recommend for my students doing vocab is learnersdictionary.com, which is by the encyclopedia britannica people and aimed for kids. it's a pretty full dictionary, but the definitions, while still accurate, are a lot more "user-friendly" than most dictionary definitions, which can be technical in a way that makes them less than illuminating.

for critical thinking:

honestly at LEAST half your battle is won. the main error i see people make in the realm of critical thinking is believing they are qualified to assess information they are not in fact qualified to do. the name of the game is humility.

i think my own critical thinking skills have really benefited from times when i've been able to read multiple perspectives on a fairly narrow topic. when i was in my NYC history era (i really gotta get back on that train), one thing i did was that every time i finished a book, i popped over to JSTOR to see if any scholars had reviewed it. i specifically wanted scholarly reviews because those are the people who can point out things i would NEVER have thought of because i did not have their years of expertise. for example, i read this one jill lepore book that was... fine... but there was a review of it that was like, "it's weird that based on her sources she didn't consult the largest and most important archive related to this place during this period, and as a result is mistaken about how common or uncommon certain things she describes are." i have never heard of that archive so i am glad someone pointed that out!

you can't always do that, obviously, and also sometimes you don't want to. but i think doing that regularly for a while helped me increase my intellectual humility and build the habit of filing things i read as "interesting if true" while leaving room for the fact that maybe they're not. (honestly the maintenance phase subreddit felt like a podcast version of this, lol, and i appreciated it a lot!)

idk. there is a fad these days for teaching "critical thinking skills"; as i mentioned in the post i assume prompted this, there is also debate about whether this is even a thing. in grad school, i felt like i saw a lot of people who had learned to mimic what they thought of as critical thinking by asking things like, "what about kids who belong to [a particular underrepresented group]?" or "how does the author have bias?" and those are good questions to ask, but knowing to ask those questions is not the same as thinking critically. if i were to try to give a shorthand question that guides my own attempts to think critically, it would be something like, "how does this person establish that what they claim to be true is actually true?" the sources they use are part of this, yes, but, again, asking "what about the sources???" is not, in and of itself, critical thinking. you also have to think about things like, "they go from this idea to that idea, but does idea 2 actually follow from idea 1?" and the number one bias you have to watch out for is your own.

i want to state again here that this is not a binary and the goal is not to be good at it, it's to keep getting better. years ago, i read an article in the atlantic by a professor of math education about the importance of counting on one's fingers in early math. i was like, wow, that's so cool and interesting. i had a first grader who was really struggling with some very basic stuff, and i did some exercises from the article with him because i thought they might help. maybe three years later, if that, i came across the article again, because i had just looked up something else by the author and been like, "wait, what? this seems blatantly not factual?" i remembered that i had liked this thing she had said about finger-counting, and i went back to try to figure out if that one had been better or if i had been mistaken, and i was, like, horrified that the atlantic had printed this and that i had once read it and nodded along like "so true bestie." the article was full of leaps in logic that sounded good but weren't actually supported at all. i'm sharing this story because if you feel like you are bad at critical thinking.... like, me too, sometimes!!!!! everyone is!!!!! if someone tells you they are super awesome at critical thinking all the time, that person is a fucking idiot and you shouldn't trust them for shit!!!!!

one other thing i can't not address: i once not too long ago made a post to the effect of "my life got a lot better when i accepted the possibility of being stupid," so i did not want to harp on this off the bat or too strongly for fear of being a hypocrite, lol, and i don't want to argue with you, a total stranger, about your perception of yourself, because i am allergic to people doing that to me. however, i would feel wrong not to mention that the specific phrasing and language you use in your ask suggests to me that when you think of yourself as "really fucking stupid," there is likely a significant emotional component in that belief and the emotions that it brings up in you, and i would be pretty surprised if it were not at least partly a reflection of your general relationship with yourself. i am telling you this because it reminds me of the way that i used to think about myself in my brain. i reliably performed well academically when i wasn't having a nervous breakdown, but i thought of myself as deeply stupid until mid twenties. there are a couple of factors i can point to regarding why i don't feel that way anymore, but by far the biggest, i think, is just that i don't hate myself the way i used to. thinking of myself as stupid in the particular vitriolic way your ask reminded me of was never actually about my smarts or lack thereof. it was just a manifestation of my deep and painful self-loathing. so i encourage you to cultivate a way of being kind to yourself, of forgiving yourself, of letting go of the shame you might be carrying about your skills or about other things that might seem unrelated. my final answer to your question is that there's hope for your capacity to grow, but it's also okay for you to be where you are. this is about reading, but it's also about everything else.

finally, if you are confused about anything i've written here, feel free to ask for clarification. i am good with words and i've tried to be clear, but one of the writing-related skills i suck MOST at is being able to gauge whether or not i have written something in a needlessly confusing way, lmao.

#askbox

[tennessoui]

You're a wonderful writer, you deserve all the treats! 🎃🍭🍬🍫🍦🧁✨

awww thank you so much 🥹🥹

it is no longer halloween but i have a couple of trick or treat asks that i didn't get to cause my time management leaves a lot to be desired & little time to desire it lol so to spare people's dashes but to not leave anyone in the wind, i'm gonna respond to all of them in one long post :D (this one)

see beneath the cut!! you guys did great there were like almost no repeats even though there statistically probably should have been???

🍬🍬 hello thank you 🧡

i already answered a kuwsk one, so for roadtrip au....

here is a little drabble from an upcoming scene in the roadtrip au (squick tag:a/b/o):

Obi-Wan narrows his eyes in his direction. "What's wrong, Anakin?" "Nothing," he says. Shit, that came out too fast. Obi-Wan's eyes narrow further, like he agrees. "You've been acting strangely all day," the love of his life says. "You didn't even say anything when I pointed out the pancake house for breakfast. You didn't even say anything when I got a cinnamon roll at the coffee shop!" "You had two servings of vegetables yesterday," Anakin mumbles, placing both hands on the wheel and looking at the road. Maybe if he pretends this stretch of flat wasteland road in front of him is the most interesting thing in the world and requires his entire concentration, Obi-Wan will drop the subject. Obi-Wan does not seem to pick up on this. He scoffs instead, and crosses his arms. "When has that ever been enough to you? Since this entire thing started?" "Obi-Wan--" "And we've been listening to my podcast for the past two hours!And you haven't mentioned it once!" "Fine," Anakin snaps, tightening his hands and then loosening his grip with effort. "Fine, congratulations. Yeah, something's wrong. I'm working through it though, okay?" On his side of the car, Obi-Wan draws himself up, and then seemingly shrinks himself down a moment later. "Is--" his hand falls onto Anakin's arm before it drops away. "Is this...because of the other night?" Anakin's jaw clenches. Them having sex hasn't just been kept to the other night. They fucked their way through all of North Dakota and Montana over the course of the last two days. But sure, the other night. "No." "Because if it is--" the omega's voice is timid and it makes Anakin's chest hurt. "You're not wearing my clothes," Anakin blurts out. "You smell different and I hate it and I know it's stupid and weird and some Dark Ages Alpha bullshit, but you need to be wearing my shirt or I'm going to fucking lose my mind, Obi-Wan." The words draw Obi-Wan up short. Anakin cuts his eyes to the side and he can see his omega's mouth hanging slightly open. Anakin taps his tongue against the back of his teeth. Great, now he sounds like some insane micro-managing lunatic. "And I think I'm going into rut." Now he sounds like a horny micromanaging lunatic. Perfect.

👻 ahh trick or treat for the naughtiest au that deserves NO treats!! 🧡

some nasty info on the cheating au i haven't talked about like. all their flying lessons. when obi-wan and anakin start fucking (before they're in love with each other), obi-wan devises a plan to get anakin alone more often so they can fuck on the weekends and not just at their places of work lol. it involves complaining to padmé about needing to really learn how to fly now that his uh valet has retired. he can't get a new one. no, that's not an option. so does padmé know anyone who flies very well and would be down to perhaps teaching him in their free time?

and padmé is like oh i do actually! my husband anakin is a very good flier. would you like me to connect you two? he came with me to your party.

and obi-wan is like i think i remember him :> he would be...available?

and anakin is guilty but very available

so they mostly spend all their flying lessons fucking in the cock pit because obi-wan's been able to fly since he was a kid. padmé learns about this either after the very end where she finds out about their affair, OR she learns about it in the lead up to the very end where she's feeling very suspicious but she's been ignoring it for THIS long so.....

🧛‍♀️🦇

trick or treat 🧡

twilight au 🧡

a headcanon for the twilight au! obi-wan's biggest pet peeve with anakin is that he absolutely hates being guided or directed in any way. he fights just to fight and obi-wan enjoys putting him in place but it would be fucking easier if anakin didn't spend so much time arguing over like. how many vegetables he should have a day. and how much water he needs to drink. obi-wan is a licensed doctor like 36 times over for fuck's sake.

anakin's biggest pet peeve is obi-wan constantly tries to mind trick him to see if his immunity will falter or fail. anakin's like for the love of god obi-wan im not a science experiment, jesus christ--'

and obi-wan hisses (cause vampire), and obi-wan's like 'you can't tell me you didn't just want to see if that was just a vampire myth'

assholes to each other <3 for eternity <3

😈 trick or treat 👽

omg smithsonian au......you know what they do for halloween, these two fuckers?? padmé invites everyone over to her (very fancy apartment) for pumpkin carving and obi-wan and anakin are so fucking annoying. they turn into a competition about who can carve the best pumpkin. obi-wan calls anakin's first attempt (a cat face) lowbrow (obi-wan carved a jellyfish), and anakin throws pumpkin guts into obi-wan's hair (he's a ginger, no one will even be able to tell!)

it goes on and on until padmé dismisses them from her apartment because it's either that or carve into anakin and obi-wan.

after getting kicked out of pumpkin carving they accidentally go on a romantic autumnal walk. they stop at a street light and anakin picks pumpkin guts out of obi-wan's hair.

it makes them feel so many things they're not mature enough to talk about

trick or treat! 🎃😸

oh ho ho the cult au! that doesn't even have a tag! (but basically it's an au where jedi obi-wan is tasked with investigating a Force adjacent cult on the desert planet Tatooine, and it's anakin obviously who is so powerful in the force he's made a whole cult out of it and sets his sights on obi-wan as his forever partner)

here is a 3 line drabble!

The boy's head tilts, and his eyes are heavy, piercing gold. They pin Obi-Wan in place even from across the room. It is immediately completely obvious who among the people in this room has influenced the Force. Even though the boy could not be more than twenty, his entire presence radiates pure power. Obi-Wan has never felt a Force signature so aggressive, so strong. For the first time since he heard the rumors, since the Council handed him the file for this mission, Obi-Wan can believe that there is a Child of The Force on this desert planet. A demi-god, whose attention can change futures, destinies-- "Approach," the boy commands, extending a hand out over the empty space surrounding him. "Obi-Wan Kenobi."

trick or treat 👽🎃

hello hello the selkie au <3

here is a bit of background thought on the selkie au! one of the things i include in most fics/characterizations of anakin is that he's a pretty one partner for life kind of person (in that he married padmé after being obsessed with her forever in canon, and one of my favorite fanons is that his very first crush/sexual awakening was obi-wan and then he would have totally married obi-wan if obi-wan was a bit different character)

but in selkie au, anakin has a very long history of dating/trying to fall in love, which is like pretty unique in my writing!

and obi-wan probably has like only a few partners he's been head over heels with, and he falls really hard for anakin which makes their (temporary) break up so much harder for him personally

trick or treat ! 😈

and omg for the space actors au??? ok ok

so obi-wan and anakin are in a holo film where they have to be jedi which will mean very serious research

and they absolutely go to the jedi temple and fuck in like a few sacred places, but tbh so many other jedi have also fucked there so that it's no big deal......even if they get caught.....and even if the make-up department has to spend a small fortune covering up their hickies they somehow got on a "research trip"

(the holonet runs a scandalous article about which jedi broke their vows of celibacy and slept with famed actor anakin skywalker?)

(obi-wan is offended that his handiwork is not recognized)

(the jedi order has to put out a statement to say that actually there are no enforced vows of celibacy though jedi may choose to follow whichever personal vows they would like)

(and if a jedi slept with anakin skywalker, the jedi council has decided they do not want to know. or hear about it anymore. thank you.)

🎃 trick or treat 🦇

i actually got asked for lslm 3 more times after you sent this in, but you were the first to ask after lslm so congrats on beating the crowd haha

ok sooooo here's a bit of the new chapter (remember, anakin's discovered that padmé has a golden wolf's mask in her luggage, what the council's intelligence has said is what the traitor will be wearing):

Padmé's eyes are unreadable when she looks back up at him. He’s been compromised. Fucking stars. He’s been compromised within the first five minutes of his mission. The enemy—the alpha in the golden wolf’s mask—she knows he is lying, she knows who he is, and she’s dangerous. She’s dangerous, and Obi-Wan is here. Anakin can feel his shoulders straightening at the reminder. Obi-Wan is here, sharing the same air as Amidala, the woman who now knows too much. If Anakin is compromised, it will only be a few minutes before Obi-Wan is compromised as well. Obi-Wan will not be threatened on this mission. Anakin will not allow it, even if it means silencing Amidala himself. She had shown him kindness and compassion when he had been nothing but a slave. And then again when he had been nothing but a boy crying out for his master. But it seems she’s forgotten what loyalty is.  Anakin can remind her. But before he can step forward into her personal space, slip control of his pheromones so that all she can smell is willing omega, tease her fingers before interlacing them with his own and pulling her out of the entrance room into a more private location—before he can take the first step towards extinguishing this threat to his alpha’s safety, someone touches Padmé’s bare shoulder.

trick or treat!! 🎃👻

a fish hook, an open eye--what a fic, thank you for sending this and therefore reminding me of it lol 🧡

hm quick head canon for this fic is....anakin actually honestly makes obi-wan a better person and sorta saves the galaxy. see, he would have stopped at nothing to take down the jedi order, but then anakin comes into his life and all his priorities sort of change.

mostly cause anakin doesn't really care about ruling the galaxy. he's very family focused (thanks, obi-wan) and he wants his family to be safe and hidden -- probably because a lot of sidious' initial teaching enforced in him that safe = hidden

and obi-wan...he doesn't actually want to give up his dreams and he would sure love to see the jedi die for no other reason than they're stingy about who gets to use the Force or whatever, but....he likes the family he has with anakin. he could be content with setting up an empire in the outer rim. he doesn't need galactic wide conquest. he's already conquered the bestest part of the galaxy (anakin)

cody is going to be sick. this is disgusting, and the thought that obi-wan and anakin actually make each other better is too awful to even consider. straight lies and deception.

🧛‍♀️🍬 trick or treat!!! 😈

oooo time traveler ahsoka au!

here is a drabble for time traveling ahsoka au during one of the re-dos (specifically, the one where obi-wan is duke of mandalore and anakin is a Jedi General married to Senator Amidala and they respect their duties at the cost of their almost love):

Even though Ahsoka had not screamed along with Anakin when she'd seen Obi-Wan's body struck by droid-fire---she could not, she had no body, just another thing to add to the long list of things she'd given up for this, for the galaxy---her throat feels raw, as if she has been sobbing for hours the way her master has been, seated slumped over in the chair next to the Duke of Mandalore's cot. Anakin is quiet now, though every so often a fresh tear will roll down his reddened cheek as he sits silently, hand clutching Obi-Wan's own. A part of Ahsoka is screaming at her to reset this scenario. Obviously, these two souls are as entangled together as their fingers currently are. But it would be cruel. Wouldn't it? To end this run now, when Obi-Wan and Anakin are so recently wounded? And they have been so reasonable up until this moment. They have been cordial, respectful---friends, brothers in arms. Obi-Wan has almost died. Surely, Anakin is allowed to mourn. Surely if Ahsoka existed in this scenario, if she were Anakin's padawan and she'd be struck down, he would sit at her bedside and cry over her sleeping form. Right? It takes three tries for the words to pass Anakin's lips, and when he does finally speak, Ahsoka can barely understand him. He has pressed his mouth to the back of Obi-Wan's hand. "Never again," he mumbles against the duke's skin. "You do not belong here, and I would--I would tear my heart out and leave it for safekeeping on Mandalore before I would watch you take on blaster fire again." Ahsoka's mouth opens, spell words meant to reset the circumstances on her tongue. It sounds like a love confession, and she knows that those such things are to be avoided. Her mind begins to race. A new scenario---this time, she will keep them apart forever---this time, they will never meet, and the galaxy will--- "When you wake," Anakin's voice derails her thoughts and holds her tongue. "I will send you back to your wife. And it will be the end. It will--it is time. To end." Ahsoka's mouth closes. The words evaporate. Her chest tightens, and though this should feel as if she's dodged a blaster shot, it feels like she's been hit.

trick or treat 🍬🧡

i gave a little drabble of the couples counseling au for the last trick or treating ask re: couples counseling au so i'm gonna give just a bit of a headcanon this time!

in couples counseling au, the jedi council absolutely knows that they're seeing a couples therapist who specializes in married partners 💙 probably a few of them think that anakin and obi-wan know that as well, but most of them are like. well. they'll figure it out right? some of it may be applicable? they're definitely better than how they were a month ago so, no harm no foul etc etc

#asks #obikin #ask haul #trick or treat ask game #roadtrip au #cheating au #couples counseling au #time traveler ahsoka au #lslm #selkie au #smithsonian au #twilight au #thank you all so much for sending these in im sorry i missed the end of the holiday!! #it was really fun !!! happy virtual halloween haha <3 #i saw someone else do this for asks and i thought it made sense

[indigosabyss]

Part 2 of my DCST Time Travel Snippets

"Lemme get this straight. To stop this impending doom, you want us to build a spaceship that will take a small crew just past the Moon. Where they will then negotiate with parasitic alien robots and convince them that humanity is stupid and not worth being frozen into stone." Markus, one of the oldest scientists at NASA, surmised. He sounded incredibly tired.

Everything the people from the future told them was tiring.

"Pretty much." Dr Xeno from the future said, "It's a big ask, I realize. And a lot of lives depend on it."

"Who would we trust with such a mission, though?" Another NASA scientist asked, "There's a lot of factors to take into account. Personality, and training, and there's not enough time to conduct proper astronaut qualification exams for the wider public."

"Good point." Dr Xeno allowed.

"Ah, how about you get your version of the Five Wise Generals to go?" Brody, the future's top mechanic laughed, "They'll all be little babies now, so we'll knock off a couple hundred kilograms from the weight limit."

"I don't think we can have infants piloting a rocket and saving humanity." One of their current day scientists sighed. It was weird to think that a group of people called the Five Wise Generals were currently babies.

"No, no, you misunderstand. They should be fifteen at the youngest. Twenty four at the oldest." Xeno clarified, "And one of them won't exist until thirty seven hundred years, so right now, it's more like the Four Wise Generals. But I agree with Dr. Brody, except for my Stan, there's no one I'd recommend more. Byakuya Ishigami's an option, but I also don't trust him enough to not launch into a passionate speech about all the good humanity has done."

Byakuya Ishigami. He was a newbie astronaut, just inducted into the program. Normally, such love for humankind was admirable but...

"Brief us on these Generals." He decided. Just to have that option.

----

First was Senku Ishigami, the man who had made the first phonecall to the past. The son of Byakuya Ishigami. So far, they had avoided looking up the kid in the modern world.

Currently, he was fifteen years old, and a high school student. With a criminal record of setting off bombs in public parks.

"Oh, yeah. He likes making rockets." Xeno from current day confirmed blandly, "I had no idea he was setting them off in parks."

He was definitely lying.

"But you'll let me go to space without me having to build my own rocket, right?" A high-pitched voice asked. A boy with the wildest hair was suddenly standing in the control room.

"How'd you get in here?!"

"Xeno and my dad kept me updated on the situation here." He picked at his ear, "I couldn't care a millimeter less about the situation here now that we've figured out the secret behind the stone swallows. I just want to go to space. As soon as possible."

He vibrated slightly as he spoke, clearly excited, but hiding it well.

---

Second on the list, Asagiri Gen.

Nineteen years old, and a... moderately famous stage magician.

"Doesn't look like he has the muscle for a space trip."

"What good's a mentalist? We can drill anyone into saying things."

And so, Asagiri Gen was overlooked.

Somewhere in the world, a magician with two-toned hair was very offended.

---

Next was Ryusui Nanami, one of the Nanami Conglomerate's CEO's brood. A bit of a disgraced one, because of a dramatic love affair, but given the same allowance that any of the others got.

At 20 years of age, he had the biggest and most diverse collection of sailboats in the world. The kid was a dedicated adventurer, with all the health that came from it.

They could use that.

"Ryusui Nanami." An escort of suited officials approached him on a beach.

He looked up over the frame of his sunglasses, taking them in. He grinned, "Aw, man, they're really going to assassinate me this time, huh?"

"No, we're from NASA. How would you like to visit the final frontier?"

He snapped his fingers, laughing, "Name your price!"

-----

And lastly...

"Saionji Ukyo, you've been transferred last minute."

"Eh???" He looked at his CO in confusion.

"It's a matter of international security."

Did they think he'd overheard something? Oh God, he'd known his crazy hearing would get him killed one day.

"You'll be working with an American strike team. Full debriefing back at the base. For now, prepare yourself to meet Commander Stanley Snyder."

What was going on???

[put together an avengers intiative recruitment scene lol. i love gen i swear, they just dont understand him yettt TTATT]

#dr stone #dcst #dcst fanfic #ishigami senku #xeno houston wingfield #stanley snyder #saionji ukyo #nanami ryusui #five wise generals #ibis ficlets #call back a warning au

[cowgurrrl]

Love the writing! Could I get one where Joel is on your and the twins are still really tiny and oc!actress is having a really hard time and has to go home, I don’t know something really angsty and also just fluff at the end of him being a girl dad and loving his 2 little beans.

Love You

Pairing: rockstar!joel miller x actress!reader

Author’s note: sorry this took so long!!

Summary: Combining these two asks!! [1.5k]

Warnings: weird Hollywood questions, brief brief brief talks of body image, PPA if you squint, people on twitter being The Worst, Joel being The Best, I think that’s it!!

You weren't supposed to be working. Then again, you were still supposed to be pregnant. You normally wouldn't pick up new projects or anything super intensive until the twins were at least two years old, but you signed on for this interview two months ago when you didn't think you'd go into labor quite so early. But now you've got one-month-old twins at home and a mandatory event. Sierra would've happily called out of it on your behalf, but Joel told you it was okay if you wanted to go. You hadn't done much except focus on the twins since they were born, and he knew how much you loved to talk about your work— especially since this interview was for the anniversary of one of your first and most well-loved projects, Sweet Water. Carolina will be there too, and it’ll last two hours at most. 

"Go. I can handle this." Joel reassured you. Still, when you went to leave, you cried and repeated instructions for the umpteenth time, even though Joel knows their schedules and habits as well as you. You got kisses from Sam and Joel before walking out the door and doing your best not to turn right around and come back. It's only a few hours, you remind yourself. Nothing catastrophic will happen in a few hours.

You fight your anxiety to constantly check your phone for an update from Joel as Alexa does your makeup. She asks how you're feeling post-partum, how the kids are, and makes a point to tell you how good you look for just having twins. You're not sure if she's laying it on thick because she can clearly see you're frantic, but you appreciate the compliments, nevertheless. As you're walking to set, your phone buzzes with a picture of Sam snuggling up to the girls with a long text about how many ounces the girls drank and what Sammy had for lunch. 

Now, we're watching Frozen 2 for the thirtieth time.

Thank you. Hopefully, I'll be home before the rock giants.

No rush, Mama. We'll see you whenever you get home.

I love you.

Love you too.

Reluctantly, you slide your phone into your pocket as PAs rush around to get everything set up, and the interviewer enters the room. He's an older guy you recognize from many other documentary-style interviews, and you smile as you shake his hand and introduce yourself.  

"It's so nice to meet you. I've heard so many good things." He says, and you laugh. "I've also heard you just had twins."

"Oh, yes. Twin girls about a month ago." You say.

"Congratulations," the reporter says. "Who's watching them today?" He asks. The question takes you back a little bit. Who the fuck does he think is watching your kids?

"My husband, Joel. He's at home with our toddler and the twins."

"Oh, poor dad! Stuck babysitting." He laments, and you scoff, glancing around to see if anybody else is hearing what you're hearing.

"I don't know if it's babysitting when they're also his children, but he was very excited about spending time with them." You say, plastering a smile on your face despite the annoyance bubbling under the surface of your skin. 

"Right. Of course." He says, but his tone makes it sound more like if you say so. You try to brush it off as just old, stupid ideas about parenting and the role fathers take when caring for their kids, but once the cameras start rolling and the questions start coming, all the questions are around the same lines. How did you physically prepare for the role of the young nurse you played in Sweet Water? What were your thoughts when you read about Alex and Griffin's relationship? How old were you when you played Alex? What was it like filming the scenes where you were exposed before the time of intimacy coordinators? 

The questions made your head spin. None of them had anything to do with Alex's character development, what she meant to you, and how her relationships with other women helped you form life-long friendships. They're all bathed in misogynistic prying and thoughts about your twenty-four-year-old body. You smile and redirect where you can, but the whole thing makes you feel gross and invalidated. The second you're done, you meet up with Carolina in the hallway to warn her, and she rolls her eyes before going in. 

As you walk out to your car, you open your phone to text Joel that you're on your way home when a headline from Twitter catches your eye. Your name is in the title, followed by "seen out working one month after giving birth to premature twins. Sparks debate about parenting." Normally, you're not one to doom scroll on the internet, but you can't look away from the thousands of people judging you for leaving your kids at home. Two hours. You were gone for two hours while your husband and the father of your children watched them, but to strangers, you're a vile, evil person who doesn't deserve those sweet babies. Many tweets focus on the fact that the twins were premature. They were if you're looking at typical, singleton pregnancies, but for twins, they were right on time. 

You know it's all stupid and untrue, but you also haven't slept more than four hours a night since Sam was born, and you just went through one of the worst interview experiences of your life, and you miss your kids. You cry the whole way home, your therapized brain and your anxiety brain battling it out the entire drive. Joel doesn't think you're a terrible mom. These past few months, he's done nothing but care for you, and remind you that you're doing amazing and he loves you. So, why can't you focus on that instead of strangers on the internet? You go through the gambit of emotions, and you're completely exhausted when you pull into your driveway.

As soundlessly as possible, you unlock your front door, and Daisy greets you as you step over the threshold. It’s surprisingly quiet. You crouch down and scratch behind her ears, making her close her eyes in contentment, and you laugh. You look behind her, half-expecting Sammy to be barreling right toward you like he always does when you get home but see nothing. "Where is everybody?" You ask her as you kiss her big head and walk into the living room. 

There, spread across the huge couch, is your family. Joel has the girls snuggled to his chest and Sam tucked under his arm as Frozen 2 plays softly on the TV. All three of them are sleeping, but Joel, ever the watchful dad, is awake. Barely, but he's awake. He's wearing his glasses and a half-buttoned-up shirt. You'd be surprised if he even looked at a hairbrush today, let alone used one considering how messy his hair is. He smiles when he catches you staring and beckons you over with a jut of his chin, careful not to wake any sleeping babies. You take a shaky breath as you walk over. Joel's brows knit together when he sees your flushed face up close. "What happened?" He whispers as you kiss him. You don't answer immediately. Instead, you lean down and kiss the girls and Sammy's head before perching on the edge of the couch near Joel's socked feet. 

"Bad day." You mumble. His hand twitches to reach for you but Sophia shifts in protest. He sends you a sympathetic look and points his foot at you.

"I can't hold your hand, but you can hold this." 

"Joel, I love you, but I'm not holding your nasty ass foot."

"Rude." He says, and you smile. "Do you wanna talk bout your bad day?" 

"When there aren't three sleeping time bombs attached to your body." You say, reaching out to run your fingers through Sammy's hair. He sighs in his sleep and cuddles into Joel, making your heart jump. When you look closer at how they're tangled up, you almost start crying again. Sam is tucked between Joel and a pillow, but his right hand holds Sophia's foot, and Violet and Sophia hold hands as they sleep peacefully under Joel's chin— a perfect Miller cuddle. 

"Is there anythin' I can do to help?" He asks quietly, and you shake your head. Your entire day melts away as you stare at your precious family, and even though he had no way of knowing about your day, Joel gave you the gift of coming home to your favorite sight. 

"This is perfect." You say, and he smiles. You cuddle up on the opposite end of the couch, somehow intertwining your legs, and catch the last ten minutes of Frozen before falling asleep too. Later, Joel will cook you dinner, and you'll do bathtime and get the kids to bed as a team. You'll check in with Sarah and Ellie and tell him about your horrible day. He'll hold you close and reassure you, and you'll feel better. But right now, a nap is the perfect thing you need to regulate your emotions, and you fall deeper in love with him for letting you sleep. Because as the years go by and your marriage changes, as do both of you, he still finds a way to read you better than you could ever read yourself.

And you can't imagine a better person to share your life with.

#one for the money two for the show #rockstar!joel x actress!reader #rockstar!joel miller #tlou au #the last of us au #the last of us fluff #joel miller series #joel miller fluff #joel miller au

[threadsun]

Sweets🍭 Asks: "Heeeey! It's me! I've just been struggling with ideas because....ive been thinking about things unrelated to sunny day Jack

BUT HEAR ME OUT

Remember that one fic you wrote with Jean and Joseph with teacher MC

Yeah that but...mc is the director\creator of the sunny time crew and here's the kicker

They are extremely miserable

They hate their job

They hate their life

They hate children

They probably hate Jean and Joseph too

Will that stop them from flirting with this tired annoyed grumpy director?

Nope! I mean Jack and Rory were made to make people happy!

It's gonna be a piece of cake

...right?"

Oh Sweets hellooooooo!!! I love you!!! You always bring me the absolute most banger ideas!!!

I love the idea of them both falling for this person who looks like they haven't slept in weeks and visibly loathes every moment they're on set lmao

Content: hatred of children, general depression, ngl reader just sort of sucks, smoking, absolutely shamelessly dirty flirting, suicidal ideation/joking about suicide, reader is not okay

Coffee isn't enough anymore. You need an IV drip of caffeine straight into your blood stream. Or some heavy drugs. Or a real hard blow to the head with a baseball bat. At this point, you're not picky. Whatever gets you off this stupid set.

The SunnyTime Crew Show. Your crowning achievement. The idea that made your career. Shown across millions of tv sets all over the country every single day. Shown to all those little ankle biters you can't stand the sight of, too young and useless to so much as wipe their own asses.

It's all bright colours and simple words and stupid, terrible songs that get stuck in your head on loop until you want to bash your brains in against a wall. Not that it takes much for you to feel that way these days. Especially given the people you're working with.

Joseph Haberdae and Jean Laurent. Rising star and bossy diva. The constant bickering. The even more constant flirting. The adlibbed lines. The relentless cheer while the cameras roll. And the insufferable questions when they don't. They take the whole thing so fucking seriously. Like this is anything more than some drivel for parents to shove their kids in front of when they can't be bothered to parent anymore.

Maybe you don't hate the kids, maybe it's the parents you resent. Always shoving crying babies into your arms during live recordings so their "precious child" can get a better look at the set. Demanding the show teach this or that lesson. Begging for the Crew to come work birthday parties.

But no, you can't stand wiping little noses and listening to the shrieks. Kids have always given you the creeps, but now they piss you off. Always saying weird things and rubbing their sticky fingers all over set. You're just lucky the stars are better with the kids than you are.

"Should we cut?" Your brought out of your stewing annoyance by the sound of your PA whispering in your ear.

You down the last of your coffee and shove the cup into his hands, a silent demand for more. "Cut!"

You hadn't noticed the scene end. But it didn't matter, Joseph and Jean had started improvising lines anyway, as they so often did. Your eye twitches in annoyance. You don't spend your time yelling at the writers to get every line perfect just for these idiots in costumes to make shit up.

"Haberdae, Laurent." You snap your fingers and point to the spot in front of you. "Everyone else, take five. Then we reshoot. We get it right this time or every single one of you is out of a goddamn job."

As the rest of the cast and crew file out for their break, the two men stand at attention before you. They know where this conversation is going. It's the same one you have every time they so much as change a single word from the script.

"So, which school was it?" You cross you arms and scowl at them both.

They exchange a look of confusion before Joseph ventures a reply. "What?"

"Which school? SoCal? Columbia? You do RTF at Austin?" They can tell your tone is derisive, but they're still not sure what you're getting at. You roll your eyes. "Where you studied screenwriting. I assume you've got some writing background, since you're always changing my fucking script."

Oh. Ohhhhh. Okay, they're on the same page as you now. Joseph has the good grace to look chastised, staring at his feet like a kicked puppy. Jean isn't one to be so easily intimidated. He raises an eyebrow and shrugs.

"What was it today, your assistant got you the wrong coffee? Or did some kid get ketchup all over your copy of the script?" He's used to your bad moods. They both are, but he's not swayed by them. "If you'd actually watched the take rather than staring off into space, you'd realise it was better than the shit your writers came up with."

You purse your lips. He's... probably not wrong. It's hard to find good writers who are willing to throw their talents away on a show like this. And they do both have an admirable understanding of their characters. Much as you hate them, they're true to your original vision. The vision you wished you'd never had.

With a reluctant sigh, you move to rewatch the take. Your PA hands you your coffee and a lit cigarette before hastily retreating, not wanting to be caught in the crossfire of whatever's going on. It's a relief, the burn of the smoke in your throat followed by the burn of the scalding coffee.

"Watch."

Joseph's behind you, hands hovering just over your waist as his breath brushes against your ear. Damn this infuriatingly handsome man and his lack of personal space. You grit your teeth and focus on the screen, ignoring the huge man all but pressed against your back. He and Jean crowd you, trying to get a good look at the viewer as you play back the scene.

It's... good. Better than the script. You don't want to admit it out loud, but their additions make more sense with the episode's story, and sound more like Jack and Rory. Damn them.

"See?" Joseph's lips brush against your ear, one hand making contact with your waist for just a moment to give it a soothing rub. "Not bad, right?"

You shove him aside, taking a long drag of your cigarette and pretending to mull it over. As if there's any question. He watches you closely, with all the eagerness of youth and all the ego of an actor who knows he's good at his job.

"Fine." You breathe the word out in a plume of smoke. "It's good enough, I guess. We don't have time for another take anyway."

Joseph grins, leaning an arm on your shoulder like you're an old friend rather than his director. "Come on, you can admit it. We're good."

You sneer at him, trying to nudge his massive forearm off you. But he doesn't budge. Instead, Jean takes up an identical position leaning on your other shoulder.

"So tense," he tuts and shakes his head. "Come on, you can praise us sometimes, you know."

With a roll of your eyes, you resign yourself to once again being crowded by the two men. You can't honestly say you mind it. "Why, so you can get off to it later? I've got about as much interest in stroking your goddamn egos as I do in stroking your pathetic cocks."

"Watch out," Jean's voice is a familiar, teasing lilt. Though it feels directed as much at Joseph as it is at you. "Talk like that might just get Joseph all riled up."

"Eugh." You mime throwing up, ducking from under their arms to grab your coffee and down some more. "Don't need to know about your humiliation kink, thanks."

Joseph's redder than he'd care to admit, but he tries to brush it off. "You know, I didn't realise you thought about stroking our cocks that often. Or our egos."

"Maybe a quick romp would help loosen you up a bit?" Jean suggests, raising an eyebrow with a quirk of his lips. "Keep you focused on your job. Is that why you've got that thousand yard stare every time we shoot? Too busy thinking about fucking us in our dressing rooms?"

From an outside perspective it might seem like sexual harassment in the workplace, but... you encourage it in your own way. You could easily set boundaries if you wanted to, but their flirting—however much they annoy you—is the only interesting part of your life right now. The only part that doesn't make you consider jumping off the roof of the studio.

"Too busy thinking about the easiest way to off myself, more like. Still trying to decide between throwing myself in the reservoir and just jumping in front of the next car I see."

"Well, wouldn't that be a waste of a pretty face?"

Jean's not worried by your theatrics. It's not the first time you've loudly proclaimed your intentions to off yourself, nor will it be the last. It never stops you coming in the next day, looking as dead behind the eyes as ever, and yelling at everyone you see.

"Pretty face." You snort, trying not to choke on your coffee. "What, is it the eyebags or the fact that I haven't had time for a decent meal in months?"

"I think it's your smile." Joseph's always so... genuine. He flirts like Jean, of course, but sometimes he'll throw something so earnest at you that it winds you. "We don't get to see it often, but... you've got a really nice smile."

It feels like he's punched you in the chest, not given you a sweet compliment. It's time to put a stop to this for now. The flirting's gone past entertaining and straight into that dangerous territory that leaves you worried you might do something stupid. Like fall for one or both of them. Not to mention, you've still got half a day of filming this bullshit left.

"Fuck off to makeup, be back on set in two. We'll pick up with Rory's baking lesson."

With a stern nod to the stage door, the two hurry off. You feel like you can breathe again. When they're around, you start to get claustrophobic. Or maybe coulrophobic. Or maybe just... you feel vaguely nauseous at even the shadow of a thought about having romantic feelings for either of the frustrating, handsome actors.

Nope.

No way.

Definitely not.

Not while you have the world's worst tv show to direct.

.

.

.

God you hate your life.

#swwsdj #something's wrong with sunny day jack #sdj jean #sdj joseph #joseph haberdae x reader x jean laurent #gn!reader #18+ only #sunshine #sweets🍭 #dear director au #crosspost

[thedo0zyslider]

Your Love Is Like A Wave (And It's Drowning Me Out) - 9k Words

A series of Majorwood drabbles, starting in Double Life and going through the next season, and bleeding into New Life as well

Or: 9k words of majorwood just for all of you 💖

A03 Link

Martyn is currently sitting by a cobblestone box, giggling to himself slightly. Said cobblestone box contains Jimmy, a red life, who he and the rest of his weird little quartet of yellows managed to kidnap. He doesn’t know exactly why he’s giggling though.

Well he kinda does, because this whole thing is a little funny. Jimmy still has air, and can see the sky, so for now he’s just loudly complaining and calling for his rancher to come to rescue him, all the while slinging curses at the other four. Pearl’s sitting on the edge of the box, dangling a hand in ever so often. Like the caged canary were some sort of wild animal that could bite at any moment, instead of ya know their friend? (To be fair Jimmy had tried to bite her once, but it probably wasn’t serious. Probably. )

Cleo is closer to him than Pearl is, making her own comments and jabs about the situation. And sandwiched right between them is Scott, and that man is the whole reason why Martyn isn’t sure why he’s giggling.

Making fun of Tim like this is always funny to an extent, but at some point Martyn’s brain laser focused on Scott and decided to never focus on anything else ever. Pearl and Cleo might as well not even be here, and Jimmy is only there to his brain because of his near constant back and forth with Scott. The man is close to him, very close, and taking quite a good amount of joy in teasing his former husband. All Martyn has been able to think about for the past five, maybe ten minutes is the sound of Scott’s voice and how nice his laugh sounds.

He already knew he had sort of a thing for Cleo. That was a given, they were soulmates, and Martyn was very weak for pretty people. But he wasn’t expecting Scott to be lumped in as well. It’s not like there was anything wrong with Scott, or that he wasn’t attractive or something. It’s just that their relationship has never been….positive in these games? And especially not now that Cleo hates him.

He ends up staring apparently, and maybe looking a little too taken with the man beside him at one point. Scott does catch his gaze for a moment, but that doesn’t stop Martyn from zoning out and staring. Cleo does though, her icy undead gaze seeing right through him. He looks aways, ears turning a little red, just as they hear Tango’s voice coming from over the hill.

“Ya know he’s into you, right?” Cleo says one day.

“What?” Scott mutters back, having literally no idea what they're talking about. “ He ” could literally be eleven other people on this server, most of whom claim to be in a happy relationship or something. So for their sakes Scott hopes the mysterious he does not like him, even if being a homewrecker and stealing Bdubs’s dream would be kinda funny.

“Martyn, he’s into you.” The zombie repeats herself, giving him a slightly unimpressed look. “You’ve noticed the staring, right?”

“Yeah,” Scott huffs, looking back over the ravine. “But I thought he was staring at you, because you were right next to me, or he was being…..being well Martyn. ”

“ Oh you’ve got to be kidding me!” Cleo exclaims, looking at him like he’s a ghost. “I caught him staring at you the other day and he blushed! ” They look like they’re ready to grab Scott by the shoulders and shake him for being so oblivious. He also gets the vibe that she’s trying to push them together for some reason, which is weird because the zombie absolutely despises that man right now. Scott would know, she’s told him as much on late night “our soulmates suck” rants.

He hums in response, deciding that looking anywhere else was better than meeting Cleo’s gaze at the moment. She was giving him a look, one of those I can’t believe your this stupid looks.

“Pretty sure I’m not into him, so…” Scott mutters after a moment.

“You were staring dreamily at his base when I brought that up.”

He opens his mouth to reply, but promptly closes it when no words come to him. He’s not into Martyn, wouldn’t be in a million years. Even that sounds like the words of a man in denial, and Scott has to stiffen a sigh; eyes now purposely staying very far away from where the blonde's ugly little baston lies. It is always there though, in the corner of his vision, tempting him to look over again.

Martyn sat on the edge of the island, humming absentmindedly to himself; feet dangling in the water below. He was taking a break for…whatever he’d been doing before, and was now just watching the grass slowly spread across the manmade island, pondering all the while. He wasn’t pondering anything bad, no not at all! He didn’t have anything bad to ponder about in the first place. He loved being a Mean Gill, and was very grateful that Scott had allowed him to stay. There was just a slight, erm, issue .

His little….lets call it an infatuation from the previous season had come back. It was in full force too, to make matters worse.

Martyn could feel himself blushing red at the thought, and tried very hard to stop that. How would he explain sitting there, randomly red as a tomato, to anyone who saw? Because TIES could very easily see him, and Scott was probably somewhere nearby. The awful, pretty, beautiful, absolutely horrible man that was making him like this in the first place.

The blonde kicked at the water, watching it ripple and splash. Why did emotions have to be so weird?

Ever since he’d teamed up with the man, Martyn's thoughts had become filled with nothing but Scott. He’d laid awake, bed agonizingly close to the others, and thought about how pretty his eyes were. How he could drown in them and wouldn’t even complain. He thought about his hair, how soft it looked, how he desperately wanted to play with it and run his fingers through it. He thought how not only did Scott have fish features now, which were a little hot honestly, he also had freckles; which were fucking adorable , actually? Martyn didn’t even know he had a thing for freckles or fish people before, but you learn something new everyday he supposed.

He thought about pressing kisses to each of Scott’s freckles, of holding his face and cuddling him late in the night. He thought about how he always had to keep his gaze away from Scott’s lips, how he had to ignore the impulse to kiss him out of the blue because that was weird and wrong and Scott didn’t even like him back.

Martyn kicked the water again, with more force this time. He watched the ripples and splashes again, ones that were now more forceful, and was aware that his face was probably souring a little.

It was never like this before, never like this with Ren. With ren they’d just…. been something from the start it felt like. Maybe that was because Ren’s affection was loud, something he wasn’t shy about; so Martyn hadn’t been shy either. That feeling had burned pleasantly, it had been all consuming and the light he clung onto in the darkest days.

But now Ren wasn’t here, and Martyn didn’t have that light, that comfort . Martyn didn’t have that all consuming fire anymore. He’d been a little taken by them both he thinks, in Double Life. But back then Ren was bright and familiar and well….his usual self. Scott had been hurt, had been colder, would sneer at him and Pearl after throwing them out. It was hard to admit a guy was pretty when you saw his actions drive someone closer to insanity is all. (Though Martyn had also left her, which he felt bad about in hindsight, but at the time it was never their fault to his head. It was always Scott and Cleo ; they were always the bad guys . And now he knows there were no bad guys in that situation, that yeah maybe all four of ‘em kinda sucked and treated each other like shit.)

WIthout Ren, without the complications that came with soulbonds, this feeling had creeped up on him. It had ensnared him and wouldn’t let go; it’d stuck its tendrils in him and he couldn’t pull them out. And Martyn didn’t want to let go of it either, because Scott made him feel warm and fuzzy and bright and he adored it. He adored him , even if this was the most painful unrequited slow burn he’d ever been tangled up in.

Scott’s voice called his name from somewhere behind them, presumably their shared house, and Martyn jumped. His heart skipped a few beats in his chest, and dear god the blonde could feel himself swooning and he wasn’t even within bloody eyesight of Scott yet. He took a deep breath, tried to calm his probably flushing face and stood up, wincing at how soaked his sandals were. Yeah, maybe this was more than an infatuation , and he’d be an absolute idiot to keep thinking that. Maybe he was a little down bad, if you must. Maybe he had a little crush even.

He called back to the other, slowly walking back. He briefly thought about the teasing flirts Scott gave him, and the ones that sounded a little too shy, when Scott flushed the slightest bit of pretty light pink as he spoke. Those were the ones Martyn didn’t think were his teammates normal “flirt with every man in a five mile radius” bit. He thought, desperately hoped, that they were real.

And if Scott was going to flirt so much Team TIES asked about it once, why not play into the bit a little more? Martyn normally wasn’t one to be shy with his affections like this, and just because Scott made him feel like a lovesick schoolgirl, made him feel like no one else ever would, didn’t mean he had to be.

Martyn reached their storage room with a smile and decided yeah, he'll have some fun with this. Maybe he’d get a yes or no at the end of it too.

They're standing there, talking with Jimmy when it happens. Scott’s forgotten why they were at the mansion in the first place really, just that they were there. The conversation had turned to friendly teasing at one point, as it always does with the blonde avian. The two Mean Gills admittedly aren’t very good at not taking the mick out of him.

Today the teasing is because of how Jimmy looks at them both. His gaze is shifting in between them, focusing on the way Martyn stands a little too close to Scott; close enough to be something more than friendly. Close enough where if he wanted to, Scott could easily slip a hand into Martyn’s warm ones and never let go.

The two islanders exchange a subtle little look at one point, and it’s clear both of them have come to the same conclusion. His teammate turns back to Jimmy, a devilish little smile dancing on his lips, and Scott is a little excited (and maybe nervous) to see what he does with that new information.

"What Tim?" Martyn teased lightly, a smirk forming on his face. "Ya jealous that your ex got a new partner?" And oh . That’s where Martyn’s taking this. Scott’s breath hitches slightly, and he hopes the other two don’t notice as the word partner starts to repeat over and over again in his head. The word is soon on loop, like it’s coming from a broken record player, and Scott has to tell himself it means nothing. They're not partners….like that . They’re base partners , allies , and most disappointedly just friends ; even if half the server does think otherwise.

Scott gets a grip of his reeling thoughts after a moment, replacing them with curiosity. He decides to say nothing, and let Martyn go…wherever he’s going with this still.

"No." Jimmy replies a moment later, his voice stiff and controlled. He's still looking at them, and at how close they are. He isn't fooling anyone with that, because they can both see the jealous glint in his eyes and how his wings have puffed up behind him.

"You sure about that?" Scott gave the blonde a smirk of his own, a little more light than Martyn's was. He didn’t want to actually upset Jimmy with the teasing, just to poke a little fun at him. He'd also be a massive hypocrite if he made the other man feel bad or something about being jealous, because he'd literally been jealous of Tango and Jimmy last season.

However, and a little frustratingly, Martyn seemed to be working against him. The blonde moved, and before Scott knew what was happening there were arms around his waist. He blinked, feeling heat rise to his face as Martyn hugged him from behind. The blonde rested his head on Scott's shoulder, nuzzling into his neck a little. This man was horrible actually, Scott decided, and he didn’t like him at all anymore.

Jimmy caught his surprised look, and the merfolk desperately wished he didn't blush so easily. It was clear that the blonde was surprised as well, because that was a bold move Martyn had just done. The avian glanced between them one more time, clearly gathering that this was unexpected, before speaking again. "Yep, pretty sure. Goodbye now!" He huffed.

With that Jimmy turned away, clearly not wanting to witness anymore of their PDA, and scrambled his way back to the top of Bad Boy Manor. Martyn just giggled lightly next to Scott's ear and moved away.

When they returned to their island, Martyn did it once again. Scott had been standing in their little newly built storage area, searching for a material he swore he put in that chest. It almost wasn't a surprise when his teammate took a chance to hold him again, warm arms wrapping around his waist again.

"Hey" Scott whispered, letting himself lean into the touch this time.

"Hi" Martyn responded, resting his chin on Scott's shoulder once more. He heard the triumphant smile in the blonde's voice, and presumed there was blush spreading down his neck. His face felt like it was on fire, so that wasn't too surprising either.

"Was Timmy actually jealous back there?" Martyn asked against his neck, having started to nuzzle it again. Scott was really hoping that no one decided to come over right now.

"Yeah, he was." He responded, letting out a small humorless laugh.

"Probably shouldn't have pushed him so far huh." Martyn sighed. "Especially not doing….this." He'd stopped nuzzling Scott, and just buried his head in the crook of his neck instead. Scott shivered, able to feel the others warm breath ghosting over his gills and scales.

"It's fine, I'll message him later" Scott said, finally resuming his search for that material. He’d been so wrapped up in Martyn's presence, he hadn’t even realized he'd stopped doing that.

He let silence fall for a few minutes, Martyn watching as he shuffled through a seemingly endless pile of items, and listening to Scott’s mutters about how badly he needed to organize their stuff. He felt the blonde smile against his skin, before swaying them gently. This whole interaction felt so….domestic, and Scott wondered if he was wrong for wanting more.

"This is nice, though.." Scott muttered into the silence, barely audible. His frills swiveled back in embarrassment, and he felt his face start to heat up even further. There was a sudden, barely there heat against his neck, and he was pretty sure he'd made Martyn blush as well, possibly for the first time that day. It was a small win, but he'd take it. Scott had one point so far and Martyn had like five probably. Yeah that was a good guess, and Scott wouldn't be surprised if it was more. That man was very good at flirting, he had to admit.

Martyn nuzzled him again as a response, and warmth fluttered wildly in his stomach. Okay then, never mind. Martyn six , Scott one.

"I need to move, Martyn." Scott mumbled when he was done searching, fondly glancing at the other. He would love to stay like this, but he tragically could not reach the crafting table from here.

Martyn mumbled something unintelligible and maybe a little grumpy, before starting to let go of Scott’s waist. Before he let go fully, when his hands rested nicely on the merfolks hips, he leaned down to press a small kiss to the side of Scott’s neck. He pecked the other right under where his gills lay, sending yet another shiver to course though Scott.

Scott stood there for a moment, eyes wide. Hadn’t been expecting that when he woke up that morning, that was for sure. He placed a hand on his neck, feeling around his gills absentmindedly. He felt Martyn’s sly smirk on him as the blonde turned and left the room, walking back towards the upper part of their house.

Martyn hummed, standing beside Scott idly. The latter was talking with Cleo about something or other, something Martyn wasn't interested in. He wasn’t here for chatter, he was here to protect Scott. No one had tried to come from them yet, but his teammate had the most time by far. And he'll be damned if he lets anyone take that away.

Maybe he ends up staring at Scott and zoning out, just like he did back in Double Life. But by now Scott’s used to it, because Martyn can't help himself from looking at something so beautiful. By now Scott is already prepared to tease him for it on a moment's notice, so it's not a big deal like it used to be.

It had taken a while for Martyn to notice this consciously, but he found Scott's fins adorable. He liked the way they moved, how they shone and shimmered under the sunlight. They folded in when he was embarrassed or flustered, which made Martyn want to flirt and fluster him even more. And the freckles, again. God how he wanted to press kisses into each one of those.

He was blinked out of his thoughts by Cleos mildly amused gaze, and the wonderful sound of his merfolk voice.

"Did you hear me, darling?" Scott asked. Beside them, Cleo failed to muffle a wide grin.

Martyn stood there for a minute, cogs beginning to turn in his head. Scott had called him darling. Darling . He concentrated a little too hard on his rapidly beating heart, on not losing his composure and turning red a tomato, that he entirely missed the awkward silence that stretched out after the question.

"Martyn?" Scott asked again, giving him a slightly concerned, yet amused, look. "Are you okay?"

"Y-yeah I'm fine, perfectly okay!" Martyn smiled back, voice going a little higher than intended.

"Okay!" Scott smiled, turning to resume his conversation with Cleo. The merfolks smile had been a little slow and mischievous, and Martyn wanted to shrink into himself in embarrassment. Scott now knew that he was weak for pet names, and was sure to use that against him very often from now on.

Cleo just leaned in to whisper something in Scott’s ear, something that made him flush. A little perplexed, Martyn watched as he slapped her lightly on the arm; the zombie giggling all the while.

There was water rushing all around him, blood pumping through his veins and pounding in his ears. Water splashed nearby, and Martyn turned to kick at Jimmy again. The avian, who was foolish in the water when he had wings, just coughed up a bit of blood, Martyn’s shoe having caught him in the face slightly.

Jimmy wasn't made for swimming, and the yellow wings just made it harder for him too. They started to drag him down a bit with how thoroughly soaked they were getting, which made Martyn's job just a smidge easier. He knew Jimmy kinda hated swimming, so the fact that he was in the water was a testament to how desperate everyone was for time.

"Scott? Scott!?" He called, desperately splashing in the shallows by their island. He couldn't see Scott anywhere, and panic behind to swirl violently in the blonde's stomach. Where'd he go? Did someone get him? What if he's dead, what if-

"Martyn!" Scott's answering yell came from the other side of the island, a few feet off, and Martyn wished he hadn't called out. Their others now knew where his teammate was as well. Which was fine, he could handle that, he just had to swim faster.

He reached Scott in record time, having to kick and fend Jimmy off at least two more times. The other pursuers were gaining as well, and Martyn had never been more relieved to see Scott’s living face, a sword clutched closely to his chest.

"Scott!" He gasped, swimming over till they were floating face to face. They were farther out than Martyn had initially thought, but he didn't mind at all. Deeper water just made it easier to drown people. Under the water, Scott grabbed his hand and squeezed.

"Martyn! Martyn you have to kill me please!" He exclaimed, casting a fearful look over the blonde's shoulder. They could hear splashing sounds, ones that were getting rapidly closer.

If they had the time for it, Martyn's brain would've slowed down, long enough for him to sit there and gape at Scott, horrified, for at least a few minutes. But they didn't have time, quite ironically, so he just squeezed Scott’s hand back and yelled. "Why?" He asked, voice close to breaking. "I can't do that to you Scott, I-"

The merfolk cut him off by placing a hand over his mouth. "I don't want anyone else but you to have my time!" He said, staring serious into the ocean blur of Martyn’s eyes. Scott’s tone started out harsh, but turned softer with each word.

" Please. " He begged one last time, removing the hand from the blonde's mouth. Martyn said nothing for a moment, letting Scott’s sword be shoved into his own hands. He hadn’t even used it and the weapon felt dirty to hold, as if the mere suggestion was tainting it.

Under the surface two sets of legs moved to keep their owners afloat, and a tail flicked in a wild panic. Behind them the splashing got even louder, till it was roaring in Martyn's ears again. It was then he realized he didn't have a choice, did he? And pulled Scott in closer.

Scott’s breathing hitched, from fear or something else Martyn didn’t know. His hands shook, but he managed to get a surprisingly firm grip of the sword. He was going to burn it later, and make Scott a newer, better one, one that didn't remind him of one of the worst incidents of his life.

His eyes flicked down to Scott’s lips, then thought better of it. Martyn knew he didn’t want to do it this way, so he moved to press his lips to Scott’s forehead instead.

The merfolk let out a strangled cry of pain, the sword being shoved through his ribs. As he pulled the cursed weapon out, Martyn moved closer, eyes pressed shut. He peppered more kisses to Scott’s forehead, to his hair, muttering comforts; that it wouldn’t hurt for long. He buried his nose into Scott’s soft blue locks and murmured that he was sorry, tears falling from his cheeks. He did so until Scott had despawned, and there was nothing but the murder weapon for him to hold anymore. The thirty minutes that washed over him felt disgusting and vile, and he almost couldn't wait to die and lose them.

Martyn stayed there, floating on exhausted limbs, until the splashing was gone, until the roaring in his ears stopped, and until he felt okay enough to go inside and see his teammate once more.

He broke down anyways, poorly retrained tears dampening Scott's now yellow jacket. The merfolk said nothing, just let him cling to his chest and cry.

"Martyn?" Scott asked, voice groggy with sleep. He'd been awoken by shuffling sounds from somewhere else in the house. At first, he'd assumed it was Martyn using the restroom or something else you normally did at one in the morning. But then the sounds had continued, and woken him up again less than ten minutes later. He was pretty sure it was just Martyn, but got up to check anyways, in case they were actually being robbed or trapped. He didn’t wanna wake up in the morning by being exploded after all.

“Martyn?” He asked, stifling a loud yawn. Scott now stood in the doorway, his hand gripping it as he watched the blonde prepare what seemed to be some sort of drink. "Oh sorry." Martyn said, turning to face the other man. A hot mug of coffee was held in his hands, the distinct smell of it quickly crowding Scott’s sleepy senses. "Can't sleep." He mumbled the explanation a little sheepishly, like Scott would be bothered by his teammates having one off night in a death game.

He was going to not think about how the other man made coffee in a server with limited resources, because as far as Scott knew this map did not have a jungle for cocoa beans. Though it might, in the unexplored area. He wouldn’t know though, because it was unexplored and it was also one in the morning. Scott simply waved a goodbye, stifling another yawn as he turned to tiredly shuffle back to his bed, the blonde's gaze on him all the while.

An hour later, when Martyn still hadn’t gotten any quieter, was when Scott decided to make him sleep. Or else.

"Oh shit, sorry-" The blonde said a little blearily when Scott walked into the room for a second time.

"Why can't you sleep?" Scott asked bluntly, hands resting on his hips. There was a certain bit of annoyance in his voice, he was sure of it. Scott was aware he probably looked like some sort of sleep deprived, scary mother of three, but if that was the look needed to get his question answered, then so be it.

"Nightmares…about the, ya know…" Martyn seemed to shrink into himself, and not because of his teammates' tired gaze burning holes into him. He sounded so small, voice getting smaller with every word he spoke.

"No, I don't know." Scott huffed, a little more gently this time. He removed his hands from his hips, and walked till he could sit next to Martyn. The blonde had been leaning against one of their bookshelves, back looking uncomfortably pressed into the wood. Scott sat beside him now, legs crossed and a softening look on his face.

“About yesterday.” Martyn managed to choke out after a minute, hands tightening around an untouched mug of coffee. “Everytime i close my eyes all I see is you in the water….bleeding because of me.” His eyes stayed firmly focused on the dark liquid in his mug, gaze clouded and full of self hatred; if Scott wasn’t mistaken.

He didn’t think about it, just reached over and pulled Martyn into the best side hug he could muster. The blonde stiffied under him, and the merfolk could tell he was stopping himself from returning the embrace. “It’s not your fault, I told you too.” Scott mumbled, burying his face into Martyn’s shirt best he could.

“I know….” His teammate just gave a low murmur of response, slowly setting the mug of coffee on the floor next to them. Martyn moved to give him a proper hug, and Scott clinged to him like a koala clings to a tree; hoping it conveyed what he was thinking. He thought that Martyn blaming himself was stupid , because he’d asked him to do. Scott had wanted Martyn to kill him, he wasn’t bothered by it at all. He also thought he wanted another kiss, maybe in a different place than the forehead, but that wasn’t a good thing to do right now.

The blonde didn’t pull away, just held onto him tighter, moved the merfolk into his lap and buried his face into Scott’s hair. He didn’t even bat an eye when he felt the blonde’s body wrack with quiet sobs, just tried to get even closer and offer more comfort, trying to communicate that it wasn’t Martyn’s fault, because Scott had a feeling this stupid idiot wouldn’t listen to him if he just said it. He had a feeling he needed to show that it was okay as well.

Martyn didn’t cry for long, and they ended up just sitting there, holding each other until Scott had an idea. It was one of those ideas that was either going to go horribly and ruin everything, or shift something else in their dynamic. He was really hoping it was the latter as he untangled himself from Martyn, slowly getting to his feet. The other just looked at him with undisguised curiosity.

"Come on." Scott sighed, taking Martyn’s hand in his. The blonde blinked as he laced their fingers together, and Scott basically pulled him to his feet fully a moment later. The darkness of the night did its best to hide the blush spreading across both men’s cheeks, all the while Scott led Martyn back to their shared sleeping area. The other grip on his hand was tight, squeezing, and he pretended not to notice.

He let go of Martyn’s hand, albeit a little reluctantly, to move the potted plant that separated their beds. He felt a questioning and curious gaze on the back of his neck, the blonde watching as Scott quickly put their beds together. He wasn’t sure his bed would fit both of them, so he decided it was safer to just pull a Bad Boys and push all their beds together. "Don't be weird about this. It helps with my nightmares." Scott said over his shoulder, turning his head to look at his teammate.

Martyn looked a little dumbfounded, his eyes flicking between Scott and the now double bed. If either of them were in a more awake state of mind, the merfolk was sure one of them would’ve made some sort of inappropriate joke. Not that Scott would’ve minded sharing a bed that way, just not right now when he was tired and Martyn was an emotional wreck.

He flashed Martyn a fond yet toothy smile, and patted the sheets before moving to lay down. Scott felt the blonde join him under the covers a minute later, and drifted close to the warmth almost unknowingly.

They laid awake together for a few minutes, before one of them finally gained some confidence. Martyn, probably thinking Scott was asleep, moved closer. He wrapped his arms around the merfolk slowly, eventually holding the other in his arms fully. Scott held back a content little sigh, fully melting against the blonde. He snuggled even closer, back comfortably pressed against his teammates chest.

The two woke up in a similar position in the morning, holding each other and legs tangled together. They didn’t comment on it, Martyn only muttering thanks, and that it did help his nightmares. Scott said he’d push their beds apart later.

He never quite got around to doing that in the end, but Martyn never complained.

Scott blinked in the dim light, Martyn now leaning over him slightly. Oh . He was being pressed against a wall, their underwater hideout suddenly becoming more cramped and small than it already was.

"I thought you were gonna die back there." The blonde mumbled, resting his forehead on Scotts. His eyes were firmly pressed shut, and his body seemed to relax for the first time all day, shoulders sagging. Stress lines seemed to litter his face as well, and the merfolk hated to be the cause of them. Scott’s gaze softened, pressing his own forehead against Martyns in return. I'm here. I'm alive.

"I didn't die, not yet anyways." The last part was added with a humorless chuckle. Martyn didn't find it very funny, as his face scrunched up even further.

Scott apologized by placing a delicate hand on his cheek, gently thumbing it and Martyn readily leaning into the touch. The blonde's own hands went to rest on Scott’s waist almost unconsciously, and he leaned into it with a quiet sigh.

Scott slowly titled his head to the side hesitantly, only once the blonde had opened his eyes again. It was only after Martyn himself leaned forward did Scott feel confident enough to close the gap between them, pressing their lips together softly. Martyn melted into the kiss rather quickly, which surprised Scott. It had honestly been a spur of the moment decision. He hadn’t expected Martyn to reciprocate at all, or do so readily. Martyn's lips were warm against his own, and Scott quickly realized he found it intoxicating.

One of his hands begins to tug at Martyn's hair, trying to pull his ally even closer. Martyn responded by nicking his bottom lip, and eventually slipping his tongue into Scott’s mouth, deepening the kiss. Scott happily let him, muffling a pleased little noise. Warmth fluttered in his gut, the blonde's tongue mapping out the back of his teeth, as the merfolk finally got what he'd been wanting for weeks now.

Martyn whined softly when Scott pulled away after a second, panting. Scott giggled, his frills puffing out in joy. Martyn just recaptured his lips again, Scott letting out a surprised chirp and melted into the contact even more than he had the first time.

When they parted again it was Scott's turn to whine at the loss of contact, but he understood why they'd separated so soon when he felt kisses peppering the rest of his face. The blonde kissed every part he could reach, Scott’s cheeks, his forehead, his freckles and his nose. Scott smiled, cupping Martyn's face in his hands after the other left one particularly risqué kiss on his upper neck.

They both leaned in for a third and final kiss. It was soft and chaste, and tasted sickly sweet, and everything he wanted and more. Afterwards Scott wrapped his arms around the blonde's neck, letting his weight rest on the other. Martyn just rested his head on top of the merfolks lovingly, kisses occasionally being pressed into soft blue hair.

"I love you." He said, voice slightly mumbled as he pressed his face into Martyn's shirt

"I…" The blonde seemed a little lost for words, a little choked by some emotion that Scott couldn't discern at the moment. "Yeah, me too" Martyn mumbled just as quietly, wrapping his arms around his teammate and holding him tight. Scott made a contend purring sound from the back of his throat, and allowed himself to be lost in the moment.

It was all he needed to say.

It was a nice day out, a calm day, and the Mean Gills had decided it was a good time to spend the day together. It was getting later and later into the game, and quiet days like this were becoming more rare and much more valuable. Martyn wanted Scott all to himself for as many minutes as possible that day, really he did, before the manhunts started up again and people were trying to take his partner’s from him. Time with his beloved wasn’t a thing he was willing to waste anymore, not after the first hunt for Scott and the end of it, one that still made him wake up in tears.

They stood at the side of the house together, Scott having surprised him as he went to feed their chickens. Martyn giggled, the other wrapping his arms around the blonde’s neck pulling him in for a slow kiss. He leaned into it as he always did, the pleasant feeling Scott’s lips now achingly familiar to him.

The blonde soon put the chicken feed into his inventory, sensing that the merfolk wanted to take this just a little further. And oh Martyn was so not opposed, he was the opposite of it really. Scott nipped at his bottom lip with unusually sharp teeth, and Martyn allowed the other's tongue to slip inside his mouth with ease. One of his hands went to rest in Scott’s hair, occasionally pulling it.

They parted for air after about a minute, both of them smiling and panting just a little bit. Scott looked at him lovingly, one hand beginning to play with Martyn’s ponytail idly. The ponytail was a new thing, he had figured now was a good time to try and grow his hair out, because what else did they have to do other than not die? The decision had paid off greatly, Scott saying he liked the look very much.

Martyn hummed, leaning down to place a kiss on Scott’s jawline. The merfolk giggled above him, and he took that as a sign to place even more. The kisses slowly started trailing down further, being placed under Scott’s chin, around his gills, everywhere the blonde could reach. They became gradually more open mouthed as well, until eventually a bruise was being sucked into his partner's neck. Scott, who’s knees buckled more with every kiss until he was practically leaning on Martyn, muffled a sound; one that sounded suspiciously like a whine.

"Martyn!" Soctt laughed, tugging the other away from his neck. "People can see us out here!"

"You don't wanna give them a show?" The blonde muttered against Scott’s throat, feeling the latter’s pulse begin to quicken underneath.

“No, I only want to give you one,” Scott’s response was a low and sultry murmur, one that sent shivers straight down his spine. Martyn let his face be held in gentle hands, meeting the merfolk's now half lidded gaze.

"I think I'd like a ticket to that." He mumbled in response, A hand was teasingly slipped under Scott’s jacket, and the other man let out a slight shiver. His tail began flicking around Martyn’s lower legs, the contact burning like a hot iron.

"You already have one." Scott murmured against his lips, giving Martyn another passionate kiss. The blonde made a muffled noise, moving the two of them back towards the edge of the island. His hand stayed under Scott’s shirt the whole time, roaming and exploring to his heart's content.

They had to part once they reached the water, Martyn obviously needing air to be able to hold his breath. But once they reached the cave the two were quickly on each other, Scott allowing Martyn to slam him against the stone wall. Their lips smashed together once again, the action now having a hungry air to it. Scott slipped his tongue into Martyn’s mouth, causing the other to groan. Hands went to tug at blue hair, which made the merfolk make his own sounds in response. Sharp teeth nicked at the pirates lips, and his knees damn near wobbled underneath him.

He groaned, Scott’s tongue exploring his mouth until he couldn’t breathe, lungs burning and screaming for oxygen. When they pulled away Martyn dipped his head back down, resuming his earlier work on Scott’s throat. He smirked at the low moan that came from the merfolk, and pressed another hickey into his scales.

At some point he’d picked up Scott, carrying him the short distance to the bed they kept in the secret room. He pinned the smaller to it, hands gripping his hair nicely and dagging Martyn’s head back to Scott’s neck. The blonde resumed his work, not needing to be asked twice; especially if it elicited those sounds from Scott.

Hands roamed under his shirt, ghosting over his chest before beginning the journey downwards again. All the while Martyn tried to shove Scott’s own jacket off him, moving that and his undershirt so he could have even more access. More whines came from Scott, his partner's lips now pressed to his collarbone and beginning to bite down gently. Martyn let out a groan of his own, fingers beginning to tug at his waistband.

He moved back up to Scott’s lips again, kissing him into the bed like a starving man. Scott’s hands quickly moved to grab the back of his head and keep him there, the merfolk very content to let Martyn’s tongue do whatever it pleased in his mouth. They pulled away for a final time after that, both taking in large gasps of air.

Scott cupped Martyn’s cheeks in his hands, moving the blonde’s head down until they’re foreheads touched. “We should make out more.” He stated quietly, eyes closed as he leaned into the other’s presence.

“You don’t say?” Martyn huffed, amusement leaking into his tone. Scott just hummed in response.

The pirate would’ve loved to stay and cuddle Scott more than anything, but they still had chores to do around the island. So Martyn stifled a sigh, and slowly moved off of the merfolk. Scott made a disappointed huff, and sat up on the bed.

“Gotta feed the chickens, sorry.” He mumbled. Martyn pressed a kiss to Scott’s hair, before going to exit the underwater base. The blonde heard the tell tale signs of Scott’ swimming after him a moment later, and smiled.

They reached the surface together, Martyn noticing that Scott’s shirt was still not fixed once they were on land. He flushed cherry red, wordlessly moving to fix it and hide his glorious work from the world. Scott just giggled at him, tail slapping happily against the ocean’s surface.

“Hi guys!” Skizz’s voice came from the mainland, and Martyn wanted to die right then. He wanted to be striked down by lightning right now because that was proper embarrassing and absolutely motifying .

“What were you two doing in there, huh?” Tango’s voice joined in with his teammates, just as Martyn managed to cover most of the bruises lining Scott’s fair skin. He really hadn’t realized how many he’d left, which made this interaction all the more horrible for him. Scott however, though probably a little embarrassed, was leaning into the teasing. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” He called back with a giggle. Martyn just groaned, resting his head on Scott’s chest, hands still gripping the latter’s shirt. His partner just laughed louder, pressing a fond kiss too the top of his head

Scott woke up one night with a loud yelp, loud enough for most of their neighbors to probably hear. He ripped himself free of Martyn’s grasp, breath coming out in short gasps as he did so. Tears were pricking at the corner of his vision, clouding it and making it harder to see what exactly was in front of him. In the merfolk’s panic he kicked off the covers as well, the feel of them being too overwhelming.

Martyn stirred next to him, obviously quite startled. Scott felt his partner's concerned gaze on him as he sat on his side of their beds, shaking. The blonde moved toward him slowly, and lightly placed a hand on Scott's thigh. When the merfolk didn't flinch away, his grasp became a little firmer.

"You okay?" Martyn mumbled, voice muddled with a strange mix of worry and sleep. Scott tried to open his mouth to speak, but his tongue felt as if someone had locked it in place, and now it wouldn't seem to budge. He held back a frustrated noise, and just shook his head no.

"Wanna talk about it? If you can?" Scott nodded again, and tried to get his mouth to work for the next few minutes. Martyn moved closer as he did so, bumping their shoulders together lightly. His fingers drummed on Scott's knee idly, a motion the merfolk found more comforting than he'd like to admit.

When he finally did make a sound it wasn't coherent, just a strangled sound that was supposed to be a word. Martyn smiled softly at that, and kept quietly waiting.

"….Had a nightmare." Scott muttered. "'Bout the first game."

"Third life?" Martyn clarified softly. Scott nodded.

"I saw the grave again." He continued, trying not to recall the dream too vividly, lest he start crying again. "I, ah, remembered the bunker, his death. Then it wasn't Jimmy it was…..it was you -" Scott cut himself off with a sob, the memory of the dream rattling him greatly. Martyn moved quickly, and before Scott knew it he was dampening the other’s shirt with his own tears.

He remembered how he'd lost his husband the first time, how he had been shattered into fragments with just one message. Scott didn’t even have to search his feelings for long before the grief came rushing back, crashing over him like it used to every day back then. His heart twisted painfully inside him, the moment still crystal clear in his mind.

"That's not again happen again, I promise." Martyn mumbled into his hair, gently running his fingers through it.

"How do you know that?" Scott asked, voice cracked with long ago grief. It could happen again, he could so easily lose his lover once more. It was the thing he worried about everytime Martyn tried to defend him, when Martyn shoved himself in front of a ranid army of yellows and reds to keep him safe. He always worried about having to bury Martyn, like he'd had to bury Jimmy with nothing but dirt and a lone poppy-

"Because this isn't Third Life." The blonde muttered, grip on him tightening. "There's no flower field here, and there's no banner to burn."

That made sense, Scott supposed. It made him feel better, so even if it hadn't made any sense it would still be a reasonable explanation he supposed. At that he sunk into Martyn, his teats gradually beginning to calm down. He still clung to the blonde like a lifeline though, the fear induced by the nightmare never quite leaving.

Martyn just laid them both down gently, Scott still clutched in his arms. He pulled the covers over both of them, and mumbled something about trying to get a few more hours of sleep.

Martyn respawned with a yelp, a little surprised still. He’d be killed by a random TNT minecart drop, and he was a little irritated over it. Stupid Skynet and the stupid minecarts. He was ready to go out there and shoot whoever had done it, that was an hour of his time they’d gotten away with!

“Didn’t expect you to be on top of me today.” A voice came from under him, and Martyn looked down in surprise. Under him was a very flustered looking Scott, the frills on his face pressed back in surprise. It took Martyn’s brain a few seconds to process how he’d ended up in this position, cogs turning at a painstakingly slow pace in his head.

He’d respawned in their hidden bed, naturally. It was night time. Scott was probably trying to sleep the night away. Right. Sure . That made sense, but it didn’t make either of them any less flustered. Currently Martyn was being distracted by how he was basically straddling Scott, and his partner was being pushed slightly into the white bedsheets.

“Well, I don’t think you’re minding it much.” He responded, entirely on impulse. Scott’s eyes seemed to light up with that, and he moved closer. Martyn met the merfolk’s half lidded gaze, nose bumping and breaths mingling together. The air had turned from awkward to heated very fast, and the blonde was soaking it all up like a wet sponge.

"Ya know I always had a thing for pirates…" Scott said, voice dipping lower. He ran a hand along Martyn’s chest area, where the shirt was left slightly unbuttoned, caressing his skin. The blonde shivered at the motion, his own hands running up Scott’s arms slowly.

"And I've always thought merfolk were quite sexy." He huffed in response, leaning downwards. Scott flashed him a toothy grin, going to meet the other in the middle. Their lips connected, and Scott pulled them further down onto the bed.

Martyn muffled a noise, the merfolk’s tongue slipping into his mouth for the millionth time. When Scott had said they should make out more he hadn’t been expecting this, but the pirate was so not going to complain. His fingers twisted in the other's hair, and a hand tugged on the back of Martyn’s head to keep him in place.

He pulled away first, the feeling of fire in his lungs. Scott just looked up at him with a pout, lips puffy and red. Martyn ignored the urge to lean down and ruin them some more, slowly shuffling off the bed.

“People are gonna be suspicious if I take too long respawning.” He muttered a quiet apology, watching as Scott tried to drag him back down. His partner just let out a dramatic sounding sigh. “Fine.”

“We could continue this later tonight?” Martyn offered, and Scott’s eyes lit up immediately. “Oh absolutely~” He murmured, giving the blonde one last peck on the lips. A hand thumbed over the waistband of his pants, and then Scott finally let go of him. Martyn laughed at that, ignoring the warmth fluttering inside him. “Eager aren't we?” He called as he exited the room, not waiting for the merfolk response before diving into the cool sea water.

Time was running out.

Scott stood with Impulse at spawn, discussing. They were the last three left, and they were supposedly going to have a fist fight to the death. The winner would be picked fairly, no foul play or whatever. Martyn stood beside them, oddly silent. Martyn was never silent like that. Scott wanted to reach out a hand to his partner, to hold the blonde’s own one last time. To feel Martyn’s loving embrace one last time, because this wasn’t going to end pretty.

He didn’t want to kill Martyn, and Martyn didn’t want to kill him. Unless the red life got to him, he didn’t think he could. And he didn’t want the bloodlust to get to him. He didn’t want to win again, and just standing here had already brought him far too close to that for comfort. So if it did come down to a fist fight, he would let Impulse kill him, because there was no other way to avoid it.

He didn’t reach out a hand to hold Martyn’s. Maybe because part of him knew what was going to happen, because he knew Martyn as well as a fish knew the ocean it swam in.

Impulse said something, then there was a burning in Scott's back. He screamed, feeling the unmistakable burn of lava on him, feeling the liquid splash painfully onto his tail. Impulse let out a surprised yell, and a bucket clattered to the stone ground under them. Just before the magma could finish him off, a sword sliced through his ribs, just like it had during his first death. His lover was saying something, but the merfolk couldn’t hear it over the ringing in his ears.

Martyn had killed him again, and stabbed him right in the back. Figuratively and literally. If he turned around, Scott would see a flash of pain on the blonde’s face as he did so. Scott didn’t mind though, didn’t mind dying, because third was a fine enough place to get. And probably a higher place than he deserved anyways.

My own Mean Gill. He thought, allowing the world to fade to black. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Martyn huffed, kicking his legs idly in the air. He was at least a good thousand feet off the ground now, which didn't make him feel too great. He made a mental note not to look down too much, and pondered on how exactly he was going to reach the ground again.

He'd just wanted to see what that weird little geyser did, not be permanently levitated! Now he was worried about going too high up and dying, and he'd only had these powers for like less than a week! Martyn huffed to himself again, trying to spin himself around in midair.

There was a flash of blue and orange nearby, and Martyn whipped his head around. He was met with nothing, with empty air. Like everything else around him. He gave the surrounding area a suspicious glance over, and again there was nothing. The blonde huffed at that, figuring it was just his eyes playing tricks on him or something. If he was gonna float into space he wanted it to be paranoia free, thank you very much.

The flash of color kept happening though, so much so that Martyn became more and more convinced it had to be another player messing with him. He also wished they would help get him down, not play an unwinnable game of peekaboo.

The person playing it also seemed to be getting bored, because the next time an orange flash appeared, there was a hand coming out of it. Martyn let out a small scream at that, and made himself float farther away. There was laughing beside him afterwards, and he once again spun to try and locate where the sound was coming from.

The flashes of light had apparently been portals of some kind, because one was soon open a few feet above him. Sticking out of it was the head of a man, similarly blue and orange hair falling in front of his face as he looked down at Martyn. The blonde blinked, watching the man laugh at his misery. The dude was quite nice looking, he had to admit, his features were slender and seemed to have a sort of elegance to him, and his eyes crinkled nicely when he smiled. His laugh rang through the air, a pleasing sound to listen to, and his hair was longer than it looked; most of his being kept up in two twin buns atop his head.

“Hi!” The stranger smiled down at him when the laughing fit calmed down, Martyn now having floated closer. His eyes were multicolored, one blue and one orange, and the blonde wasn’t even surprised by the color combo anymore. That seemed to be very on brand for this guy.

“Hi!” Martyn parroted, struggling to keep some irritation from his tone. “You mind getting me down now?”

The strange man blinked a couple of times, and for the first time seemed to realize how high up they now were. “Oh! Sorry!” He almost squeaked out the apology, before disappearing into thin air again. Martyn floated there, puzzled for a moment, before he was suddenly on the ground again. He made a noise of surprise, stumbling a bit as body readjusted to not being hundreds of feet in the air. Martyn’s vision spun a bit, and he felt a warm hand keep him steady while it did.

“You okay?” The stranger’s voice rang in his ears again, and when the blonde could see clearly he found that the other was now face to face with him. He nodded, staring back into those multi-colored eyes, the stranger’s breath brushing over his face ever so slightly. He had quite pretty eyes, this man did. Martyn could very easily see himself getting lost in them, especially if they kept meeting like this.

“Good!” At those words the other man was pulling back, another smile dancing on his lips. Martyn ignored how pretty that look was on him, deciding it was better to focus on what the guy was saying instead. “I’m Scott, bye the way!”

“Martyn.” He gave his own name, and committed the others to memory. Sometimes the blonde had trouble remembering names, but he figured this guy was the expectation. You don’t see a pretty dude who can teleport very often. Scott’s gaze flicked over him once, taking in his appearance. “Why were you even floating in the first place?” He asked, head tilted to the side curiously.

“Some stupid geyser sent me up there!” Martyn huffed, scanning the area for his new least favorite thing. “Over here!” He walked towards the damned thing as soon as he caught sight of it, wanting to warn his new acquaintance of what they looked like. He heard Scott follow after him, brown boots crunching against the light layer of snow on the ground.

“That thing!” He spat, glaring down at the small geyser, treacherous puffs of air still billowing from it. Scott stopped beside them, tail brushing against Martyn’s legs unconsciously. The blonde hadn’t even seen the tail till just now, and it only made him more curious about the guy.

“Ah, so that’s what those do!” Scott hummed, leaning forward slightly to get a better look.

“You’ve seen ‘em before?” Martyn’s now curious gaze flicked to the transporter again, and he tried not to stare at the open side of the man’s shirt.

“Yep, but I was always too scared to test them out.” Scott glanced at him, his features becoming playful “But i guess you did that for me, huh?” Martyn snorted at that, moving away from the wretched thing a little bit. Scott followed him.

“Guess I did!” He smiled, watching as the other opened a little portal in the grass next to him.

“Gotta go!” Scott explained with another pretty smile, this one dazzling and lopsided. “See you later?” He asked, and if Martyn deluded himself he could hear a bit of hope in the teleporter's voice.

“Yeah, see you later!” Martyn called, freezing himself in excitement at the thought. Scott laughed at him, before falling into his portal, tail flicking in joy. If Martyn could smile while encased in ice, he would. He wanted the ice to melt quicker, to melt right now , just so he could see Scott as soon as possible.

#they r horrible and I hate them/pos #ron.writing #ron.fic #majorwood #scott smajor #martyn inthelittlewood #jimmy solidarity #limited life #limited life smp #double life #dlsmp #trafficblr #trafficshipping #nl smp #new life smp #this is just majorwood fluff for a few thousand words #I am the number one 'martyn was into scott during dl' supporter #this one has been in the drafts so long the wip referred to them as coral kids funfact #cleo is their number one supporter in this btw. she didn’t like martyn in dl but supports scotts lil crush with all her chest #'Bestie I hate his ass but you can fix him he's good for you and watching you two pinning is painful ' kinda vibe

[nivtee]

hello !

do u have any tips for baby writers such as myself? especially on how to write characters and not make them sound very OC -🐛

hi 🐛!!! ahh!! honestly i consider myself a baby writer, but even so i've been writing for years. writing isn't just something to treat as 'oh i have the ability to type letters so i will' you actually have to care about what you're writing!! here is a small list of tips i have about writing and writing characters!!!

im really glad you like my writing!! but i still have a ways to improve myself, which is a big reason as to why i started uploading my writing in the first place.

CHARACTER WRITING

— read either the source text or some fan favourite fics of your character. what is different and what is similar through each of the different texts? use similar language and actions when describing the character

— figure out what is and isn't attractive. this works for platonic and romantic relationships, is their character a bit too bland for you to write about them in the way you want? change them slightly, make a 'grumpy and mad at everyone' character only like your character, or set it up in a way where they're slightly calmer around them.

— if you think it's getting to out of character, try shifting the focus away from that character. if you're writing about james potter (source: marauders) and he starts sounding like lip gallagher (source: shameless) then step back and write about lip, otherwise you'll blur the line between your characters too much.

— but, who cares? they're your characters for a reason, if im going to read what you write, i want to know you wrote it and not some random kid trying to write. i want to see what you do to bring characters bring to life, show me how your remus lupin is different from the real remus lupin.

GENERAL TIPS

— its hard to figure out where you would start and stop, especially when writing one shots. in my opinion, look at what you're writing (smut, angst, fluff ect) and start from there. smut is usually best to end just before the slow act, where as fluff should go through the entire act, angst should almost always end during the peak, where there's a chance to end positively or not.

— the whole 'show don't tell' rule is stupid, because sometimes i want to hear the characters blatantly say their sad. i like feelings being brought up and told, be bold.

— your writing is just that; yours. if i wanted to read the same thing over and over, i would, but i look for new stories and new portrayals of the characters. i want your story to impress me, even if its a 'two characters, one bed' trope. tell me how your story changes it up, and how you make the story play out.

— when you struggle writing a scene, stop writing, put on some music and imagine what's happening in the scene. what do you see? put some dot points of what's important to you in the moment, is the wind blowing? does the air smell weird and does your character notice?

im not amazing when it comes to writing, but if you ever need some feedback (honest but not harsh) feel free to send me a message and/or your work!!

( i love to read and im a huge fan of helping others! )

#how to write characters #writing tips #✎dosiewrites #writing #how to write #beginner writers #writers block

[lara-prisma-avm-ask-blog]

Stickronpa Chapter 2 Circular Trial(Part 2)

-......-

Second:"Red.... You're lying."

Red:"What!? Didn't you hear me?? I'm not lying I'm the killer!!"

Blue:"Red... Why??"

Red:"That video!! It.... It changed!!"

Night:"...."

Second:"How has it changed...?"

Red:".... The video said that... If I didn't kill tonight I.... I would lose not only my animals, but all of you!! I do not want to be alone!! I wanted everyone alive!!! Then I would confess and... And...."

-He starts crying non-stop.... Red....-

Dusk:"That's right? Was it just you?"

Red:"h-han..?"

Orange:"There's one more thing that doesn't make sense...."

Chosen:"Second, do you know what it is?"

Second:"You... you mean...."

-The Glasses

-The hammer

-The shoulder wound«

—I GOT IT—

Second:"Are you referring to the wound on Smoke's shoulder?"

Orange:"Exactly, another thing is the temperature he was at, he was cold."

Dusk:"It would only get cold if it was in the water for a long time."

Indigo:"AND? It still might have been him!"

Purple:"But what about the wound? Red can't have done that!"

Red:"What wound?"

Second:"R-red??"

Red:"I don't know what they're talking about. There's not even a wound!"

Blue:"Red what the fuck!?"

Red:"Accept! I am to blame and no one else!"

-He's lying again.... And it's getting worse...-

-I have to break these lies once and for all...-

—LIE BREAKING—

Red:"I don't know what you guys are talking about. I don't remember a single injury to Smoke!"

Second:"It says in the monofile, "extra wounds: cut deep into the shoulder" "

Red:*GARR*"i-it must be a mistake! You must be seeing things!"

Second:"Do you think we're that stupid?"

Red:*N-NHARG*"There's no way to prove it any other way!!"

[Weird animalistic noise]«

Second:"YOUR LIES END TODAY!!!"

—BRAKE—

Second:"The shoulder wound.... Could it be—"

Dusk:"Something animalistic?"

Second:"hun!?"

Dusk:"I believe the wound was caused by some kind of creature, it's a wound similar to that of a cut, but also like an animal or that open cut."

Second:"I... I was just going to mention that I heard a sound that sounded like a roar or something... That's what woke me up..."

Dusk:"If it was an animal that made the sound, it must have been the same one that caused the cut."

Indigo:"What!? An animal?? Impossible! There are only stick figures here, not an animal!"

Sombra:"Are you right about that...?"

Indigo:"What do you mean, creep??"

Sombra:"Among all the dvds... One of them is specific... Because it points out some secrets between us..."

Freedom:"S-secrets??"

Sombra:"Oh, yes... Unfortunately it doesn't say anything about who are the ones hiding secrets... But it does give certain indications..."

-Sombra looks at monostick with a smile, and they seem to understand what he wanted them to do and laugh.-

Monostick:"Oh! I've been waiting for this!! Behold, the video of secrets!!"

-And so they put it on a monitor and within seconds the video started....-

Monostick:"welcome to the special motive video! in this video we will reveal certain little secrets that would not want to be revealed! but I'm not going to talk about who they are! heheehe!"

Monostick:"Four of you hide secrets that can be good or bad...One of those secrets is....

Monostick:"One of you is a Shifter!! A kind of sitickfigure which you can change into certain creatures or multiples!! if angry... they can even kill!"

Monostick:"Another of you has an immense power that you intend to hide! What kind of power is it?? I've seen it, it's capable of... blowing up mountains..."

-......-

Monostick:"Waaaan, one of you lost a very important person and doesn't want to talk about it! What a boring secret! But it's a secret anyway... and finally..."

Monostick:"One of you is a traitor. Working with me and the mastermind to continue the killing game!"

-And just like that the video cuts off and..... We are all petrified and confused...-

Purple:"N-no..... I-I... I was going to tell... I just.... Mama..."

Orange:"k-kid...?"

Indigo:"Who is it...."

-Everyone looks at the indigo..-

Indigo:"WHO IS THE FUCKIN' TRAITOR???"

-Everyone stares at each other, everyone wasn't friendly before but now it was even worse...-

Sombra:"HAHAHAHAH!!!! WHAT'S THE PROBLEM FIGHTER???"

Freedom:"Y-you!! It can only be you!! You who are working with the Monostick!!"

Sombra:"ah-ah-ah! No no no, I'm just helping with this case..."

Dusk:"If the video is telling the truth... One of us is the Shifter."

Blue:"I'm pretty sure it's not Red! We've known him since we were kids!"

Freedom:"Excellent! Now in addition to a traitor and HIM, we have a FREAK BETWEEN US!!??"

Red:"What did you say?"

Freedom:"I said we have a FREAK!!"

Red:"......."

Second:"Red..?"

Red:"......."

-In seconds Red launched himself from his podium and threw himself into freedom Guy holding him by the neck.-

-Freedom's eyes prove that he wasn't expecting this. I guess he didn't expect Red to be so strong.-

Red:"TAKE BACK WHAT YOU SAID, YOU BASTARD!!!!"

Freedom:"W-What the fuck!!??"

Blue:"Red!!"

-Blue runs to Red and separates him from Freedom, who was staring at Red in complete shock, catching his breath.-

Sombra:"Looks like you didn't expect that, did you?"

-Free faces Sombra irritated and get's up.-

Second:"Let's just put that aside and focus on the trial..."

Yellow:"It is quite clear that the Shifter is the culprit. But who is the Shifter?"

Dark:"Okay, but before that I have to ask, was the hammer used or not?"

Chosen:"Clearly it was, but in what order exactly I don't know..."

-In what order was the hammer used...?-

-Before«

-After

—I GOT IT—

Second:"It was before!"

Dark:"Okay, so the culprit used the hammer before and–"

Second:"I never said it was the culprit who used the hammer."

Yellow:"Sec... You can't be serious..."

Red:"....."

Second:".....Red.....You used it, didn't you..?"

Red:"....."

Dusk:"You knew about the head wound, and where the hammer was. You have two explanations, you were at the crime scene before all of us and you hid the hammer.... Or..."

Sombra:"You helped in the murder."

Reg:"...grrr...."

Blue:"Red... Say something!!"

Night:"C-can you stop?? Red is very anxious! Red... Just... Explain what happened..."

Red:"...Yes... I attacked Smoke with the hammer... If I didn't do anything... I would be alone..."

Purple:"Red...."

Second:"Do you know who the culprit is...?"

Red:".....no."

Night:"Red!?"

Red:"I didn't see the culprit. I just saw the hammer, I... I fainted when the murder happened! I didn't see who did It... I didn't even see the body, I thought he was gone and I hid the hammer..."

Yellow:".....What?"

Blue:"Aaaah.... That doesn't make much sense.."

Sombra:"There's only one firm to solve this.... Monostick, how does body discovery even work?"

Monostick:"Simple! The announcement plays when three or more people find the body!"

Sombra:"See, that's the answer."

Red:"H-how would that be the answer??"

Second:"....."

Orange:"....The announcement played when Second and I saw the body.... There was no one else with us...."

Red:"g-GAAAHR!!!"

-Red was getting agitated.-

Red:"F-Fine! I saw the body! B-but I didn't see the culprit!!"

Yellow:"Red... Are you sure...?"

Res:"Yes! See, I have nothing to do with this!"

Blue:"But... why did the killer kill Smoke in the same place you attacked him...?"

Red:"g-gaarh..."

Indigo:"It seems to be just a bluff! You KNOW who the murderer is!"

Red:"N-no!! I don't know!!! I DON'T KNOW I DON'T KNOW I DON'T KNOW!!!"

-He was crying.... Red... Why don't you say anything??-

Night:"Red... please tell the truth..."

Red:"...b-but.... I can't.... I don't want to...."

Sombra:".....I already know."

Second:"You know??"

Sombra:"There's only one person here that he wants to protect, that he's always wanted to keep him safe at all times..."

Second:"....!!"

-It's true..... The killer.... The culprit can only be...-

???:"me."

-Everyone goes into shock and looks in the direction of...-

Night:"...good job everyone...!"

Red:"......"

Second:"......."

-Night.... Why...?-

Night:"I would confess... But only when you guys had all the pieces together... But I don't want Red to lie anymore! I'm guilty of murder! I killed smoke!"

Blue:"Why... Why?? He never did anything wrong!!"

Night:"He... He was going to tell everyone what Red tried to do.... And... I couldn't let him do that..."

Night:"Red is an angel... He is kind and innocent... I couldn't let anyone think he was capable of murder!! I... I didn't want to have to kill but... I couldn't control myself... It was my sisterly instincts..."

Second:"That's it..?"

Night:"Hehe... No... Smoke... He tried to attack Red..."

Blue:"!!"

Night:"That's what made me angry... I... I attacked him and... He attacked me in return..."

Second:"Oh, did you scream...?"

Night:"Yes..."

-She must have been the scream I heard...-

#animation vs minecraft #alan becker #animator vs animation #avm second coming #avm blue #avm red #avm yellow #avm purple #avm orange #avm indigo blue #ava oc night #ava oc dusk #ava freedom guy #ava oc sombra #ava dark lord #ava chosen one #ava oc monostick #ava stickronpa #stickronpa #danganronpa #danganronpa fanmade #avm danganronpa au #danganronpa fanfiction #stickronpa trail #stickronpa au

[sparkymalone]

What does the future foundation (the people who watch the cameras) think of Fuyuhiko's night activities?

(⁠ ͡⁠°⁠ ͜⁠ʖ⁠ ͡⁠°⁠)

(Full disclosure, I didn't want to try to figure out who would actually be doing this, so I just used some of my all-purpose OCs. Hopefully it's not too weird, lol)

"Oh God, they're at it again."

It was late at night. Most of the staff had gone home. Since the night shift was typically pretty quiet, the Future Foundation usually only assigned one person to monitor the simulation.

On this particular evening, two staff members were watching the monitors. Izumi wasn't assigned to this particular post, but she had been awake anyway, and decided she might as well do something productive.

Besides, these stupid kids were growing on her.

She was in the process of lighting up a cigarette (there was no smoking in the control room, but she knew Finch wouldn't rat her out) when the man beside her groaned.

Izumi looked up at the monitors, brow furrowed. "What are you talking about?"

Finch grimaced and pointed at the screen displaying the inside of the Remnants' cottages. Most of them were still, since the occupants were asleep. A few of the Remnants seemed to still be awake, but minding their own business. One of the screens, however...

Izumi's eyebrows shot up. "Oh."

Her partner scratched under his chin, trying not to look too closely at the feed. "Yeah... They've been doing that... a lot lately."

Casually taking a drag from her cigarette, Izumi leaned closer. Kuzuryu was in his bed, as he should be, but he wasn't alone. Hinata (the higher-ups insisted on referring to him as "Kamukura" but Izumi refused) was there, too, and the two of them were... well.

"Huh. I never would've guessed," she commented, sitting back in her chair.

Finch raised an eyebrow at her. "Really? They don't do shit like this on your shift?"

Izumi shook her head. Hinata and Kuzuryu spent a lot of time together, sure, and she had definitely gotten some ~vibes~ from them, but she just assumed it was all in her head. Seeing the two of them tangled together in Kuzuryu's bed was oddly vindicating.

"So this happens a lot?" she asked, trying not to stare. Watching two teenagers have sex would be weird, Izumi, don't fucking look.

Finch nodded, grabbing the carton of cigarettes off the desk and pulling one out for himself. "Most nights, yeah. It's wild to me that you didn't know about it." He paused with the cigarette hanging out of his mouth. "Shit, do I need to report this?"

The woman beside him hummed thoughtfully. On the one hand, they were supposed to record any fraternization between the Remnants. On the other hand, she had been rooting for these two for so long, and she wasn't sure what the higher-ups would do if they knew two of the Remnants were sleeping together.

"...I think it's fine," Izumi finally replied.

Nodding, Finch looked back at the monitor. "That's what I thought, too. They're just teenagers in the sim, right? Horny teenagers are normal." He fiddled with the cheap lighter Izumi had brought, swearing in English as he burnt his fingers. "It's not like they hooked up in real life."

Izumi gasped. "Do you think they ever hooked up in real life?! That would be-" She cut herself off, realizing she was getting carried away shipping real people.

"I think someone would've noticed, right?" Finch asked.

"I don't know, we lost track of Kamukura for a long time, right? He could've been doing anything during that time. Or anyone."

Finch shook his head. "Yeah, but the Foundation had eyes on Kuzuryu the whole time. They definitely would've noticed if he hooked up with Kamukura, don't you think?" He grinned at the woman next to him. "Sounds like wishful thinking on your end."

Izumi scowled at him. "Shut up. I just think they make a really cute couple." Maybe it was a weird way to think about literal war criminals, but for some reason, she just wanted them to be happy.

"The sim is supposed to reprogram them or whatever, right? Maybe when they get out, they'll hook up for real." Finch took a drag from his cigarette, glancing at the monitor for a moment before looking awkwardly away.

Averting her eyes as well, Izumi nodded. "Yeah... Maybe."

Silence fell over the control room as the two of them tried not to notice the boys finishing up. Once it seemed like the two Remnants were asleep, Finch glanced at his partner.

"You seem weirdly invested in those two."

Izumi shrugged, trying to look nonchalant. "Their whole situation is just so sad, you know? They deserve some happiness, right?"

Finch snorted. "They literally destroyed the world."

The woman glared back at him. "I know that," she snapped. Honestly, she wasn't sure why she cared. The Remnants were, in fact, dangerous criminals, and this whole simulation plan just felt like wishful thinking on Naegi's part.

Still, for some reason, seeing Hinata and Kuzuryu sleeping peacefully together gave her an odd sense of... hope.

Izumi grimaced, not ready to admit that to her partner. Finch would almost certainly make fun of her for it. Instead, she stubbed out her cigarette and climbed to her feet. "Whatever, I'm going to try and get some sleep."

Finch gave her a nod. "Thanks for keeping me company. Sorry it got weird," he added with a grin.

She couldn't help but smile back. "Next time, warn me that something like that could happen, you perv."

The foreigner balked. "What?! I'm not... I wasn't watching it on purpose!"

Laughing, Izumi took her leave, ignoring Finch's protests.

.

To answer your question, opinions are varied lmao

#asks #fanfiction #kuzuhina #fuyuhiko kuzuryu #hajime hinata #danganronpa #OCs #i hope my characters aren't too cringe #also I don't know what the point of this story was lol #were you referring to a particular situation or just in general? lol #sparky writes

[aki-draws-things]

Phanie, you darling, evil friend.

I need to know more about the Ron’s dad is alive au and he finds Ron. How bad is it. Does he find Chris eventually? Does he ever try to show up again after that first time?

How detrimental is this to Ron’s mental state…

I have the idea in progress for whumptober, so it'll come.

But!!

Tw for past abuse, and the asshole not being dead...

His father had shrugged when Aleska asked him to sign the papers so she could have custody of the boy. Boy who ran away from home, boy who apparently landed himself in hospital with pneumonia. He couldn't care less, he signed and got rid of him. Not his smartest move, in retrospect, considering his wife was dead and he could barely cook pasta without making a mess. But why caring?if that woman wanted to get that useless kid away from him so be it. Go on and keep him, what do you even see in it anyway? He gets sick at any given moment (Aleska finds out when ron is admitted to the hospital that he was born three weeks early), he trips over his feet and he's stupid. Took him almost 10 years to learn proper English and he was born there.

He absolutely never cared for a poor excuse of a boy.

Words reach his ears that he's navy now, he's a pilot, top gun graduate, the best of the best. Living in Texas. He think that if he'll show up very nicely, he can get some money.

The first time he doesn't speak or approach. he just watch. Ron is dropping Chris off at work, gives him the smallest kiss on the lips as David gets out of the car with a mocking face. "Come on lovebirds, enough of that or we'll be late!" He blows a kiss to Ron anyway and laugh, wrap his arm around Chris.

Great. Oh, great. His son is a fucking fag.

He follows him.

Sees where he lives, watches that other man opening the door and kiss him before pulling him inside.

He doesn't need his money, he decides, he's disgusted, that's not the son he raised. (He didn't raise him. And thank God for that!) But he won't allow him to drag his name in the dirt.

Ron feels observed. It's weird. Unsettling. For a moment he believes Marvin decided to target him to get back at chris, again.

Oh, it's worse.

Ron would recognize him even after all those years. it's somethimg in the face, in his eyes, something he never forgot. He sees the shadow looming close around him, catches glimpses of the man who fathered him around, he start to get agitated, restless. Anxious.

Ron is waiting outside the firestation, chris will finish tinkering with his car and go back not having him drop him off and pick him up, at one point, when he sees him. Not a glimpse. No, he's standing right there, staring at him.Ron feels blood run cold. Icy. He feels his leg go weak. He hasn't been that terrified in years, he thought he was over that. He's not.

The man, his father, takes a step closer, and another, and another again. Ron almost jump in the middle of the road as a car sprint past.

David grabs him. Holds him. Takes him inside and yells for Chris. Ron's eyes are wide, unfocused , he looks like he had seen a ghost. A ghost would've been better. They wonder if they have to take him to the hospital. Or call Lucas.

They do call Lucas once they're home, they don't know how to make him react. Luca drips by after his shift. He's dead on his feet but damn they sounded panicked, and Ron wasn't probably hurt, or they would've taken him to the er . It's still bad, he's not sure what to do either.

Tom knows, though. The moment he arrives home and finds all 3 of them around ron he fear ls something happened. The moment he sees his eyes, he knows.

"He'll get out of that on his own. You force him, he will attack. He's not there."

He and Chris just hold him, they move to bed and hold him, but none of them sleeps.

It takes a while, Ron is dazed, he's not sure how he got home, or in bed. But they're holding him, so he feels safe. Safe enough.

The second time, the man approaches him as they're all together. Some sort of unofficial double date. He approach with the intent of hurting him , tom notices ron freezing and just... he snaps. Chris and David both have to hold him back before he does something he's gonna regret and will destroy his whole career. Both of their careers.

(The whumptober idea ,on the other hand, is Ron and David chatting with jake eating an icecream when he shows up. Amd Dave getting them home. Jake is terrified, Ron is not dissociating only because his son is clinging so hard to his neck that he's grounding him.

#ron slider Kerner #ron x chris x tom #tom iceman kazansky #chris seresin #david benton #past abuse