#then a whole day to do just the first pattern itself

[mio-the-clown]

Made a Welcome Home (mostly Wally Darling) inspired friendship bracelet ^^

It kind of looks like eyes doesn’t it? … barely … but still I love it

#welcome home #welcome home puppet show #friendship bracelets #I was so out of practice #it took an hour to do the first row #then a whole day to do just the first pattern itself #it was so stressful

[verinarin]

𝐂𝐨𝐠𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 - 𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐟𝐬

angst with comfort | he didn’t come today, you don’t miss him do ?

an. Miss me ?, I hope you do miss me since this is my first full fledged angst I write for Ratio, I hope you guys enjoy ! ヽ(；▽；)

art by @/hsgbisuw on twt

It was a calm day, too calm for your liking. Usually at this precise second Veritas Ratio would knock on your doors with all of his might and glory, how could he not ?. You were doomed to be woven into his research by the looms of fate, yet he’s not here.

He was never late before, likewise he was also never early. Right at 12 o’clock he would knock on your door, yet he isn’t, not today. Why ? you asked yourself. It is unnatural for you to let that man live in your head rent free, yet he broke something constant between you both. zAs much as you hate how better his thesis compares to yours, his gentle scoffs as he oversees your draft, you can’t help but to respect the candid fellow or at least respect his dreams and values.

Missing him however was not on your list, you don’t hold any fondness towards him, just respect. Only respect, or at least that’s what you like to convince yourself of. Yet your actions spoke differently, from staring at your phone, waiting for an explanation for his absence, staring at the clock. Patiently counting how long it has been since his supposed arrival, yet he never came.

The clock strikes at 8 in the evening, it is sufficient to say that he’s not coming, you wanted to text him for a reschedule or to simply ask his whereabouts but you didn’t. Since there’s no need to do so, he has shown his resolve by his actions. Perhaps you bore him so he decided to substitute you for another brilliant mind, no harm no foul, you thought.

As you stood up from your desk to pack your belongings, a twist on your door knob could be heard, that means that the person behind the door must've had important matters to attend to you since they skipped the courtesy to knock on your door, at this hour nonetheless.

Once you turned your gaze towards the door, low and behold Veritas Ratio with all of his flaws full on displayed for you, his usually groomed hair, now damp as well as the rest of his clothes, he looks like a wet dog you thought, “I’m quite late aren’t I ?,” he chuckled as he brushed through his wet hair.

“What brings you here ?, it is well past our usual schedule,” you walked towards him with a concerned look on your face, he let out a small chuckle as he made himself comfortable on your couch.

“Well excuse my late arrival, I had matters to attend to,” he replied vaguely, not wanting to disclose whatever it was he was attending.

“It is best for you to not come at all, it’s already late for us to start our thesis,” you sat beside him as you examined his whole stature, his breathing patterns are erratic, it contradicts his usual calm pattern.

“I’m not here to talk about our little project I’m afraid,” oh that’s new !, you felt a sudden rush through your body, in a way your flight or fight sense has been activated.

“Oh ?, so why the sudden visit ?,” you asked, gazing straight at his face, his sharp features glistening beautifully underneath the moonlight, the sight would leave anyone who gazed upon in breathless, yourself included but he didn’t need to know that of course.

“Do you not miss me ?, or search for me at all ?, are you not concerned with my wellbeing ?,” he asked calmly as he looked towards you, like a deer caught in headlights you freeze.

That was not a reply you were hoping, it was a trap.

Now your mind starts to isolate itself into a total state of seclusion, ignoring the man beside you, riddled with his own inquisitive mind pondering the answers to his question.

Did you miss his companion ? perhaps.

Did you search for him ?,you did ask Aventurine about his whereabouts, but he doesn’t need to know that.

Are you concerned with his well being ?, you might have. Proven by the fact that you had to physically restrain yourself from searching for him.

“No, I do not care about you that much I’m afraid, we’re just colleagues after all,” you lied, for reasons you can’t disclose. He simply scoffs as he folds his arms together; a self pitying laughter could be heard seconds afterward.

“I see, then can you perhaps prove your claims,” he smiles.

His expression, so sincere and true that it scares you to a certain degree. You’re horrified how easily he steps inside your heart. With just a mere smile he could do that, how gruesome.

“Sure, let’s get this over with,” you replied and with that he leaned closer towards your ear, you could hear your own heartbeat, matching his erratic pace. Scary you thought as you sealed your lips shut.

“Are you perhaps familiar with the term Cognitive Dissonance,” his voice lures you, dangerously so to the truth. The truth you weren’t prepared to disclose nor acknowledge.

“Yes, but I don’t see how it connects to whatever it is you want me to prove,” you reply, trying to move on from his argument. As though lost in the middle of the sea, he’s getting close to the shore and you’re not sure if you want him to step on land or to drown.

“You see,” he whispered as his hand tipped your chin forward to meet his eyes, “Your actions contradicts your beliefs, it’s uncomfortable is it, am I getting too close ?, physically or perhaps psychologically ?,” he did it, he really did step foot on uncharted territories.

“Too close, there’s a thin line between us that you’re stepping on Veritas,” you whispered back hoping he would give up on whatever conquest he’s currently embark upon. Yet he dares step closer, leans as close as he could get without scaring you away.

“Is that so ?, would you let me walk to the other side ?,” he asked, his voice as gentle as it could be, in contrast to how stern it used to linger on your ears.

“I-i—” not a single thought could form in your mind, the things he implied. You’re scared to misinterpret the situation, making yourself a fool in front of him.

“Don’t think, feel. Would you let me cross to the other side ?,” he whispers in which it successfully breaks you from your trance.

He reached at your hand, guiding it against his own beating heart as his forehead rested on yours. You could feel his palpitation, his warmth, his sincerity.

You could feel him, not perceive him anymore.

You feel him with all of his sincerity and tenderness.

“Do you miss me ?,” he asked again, patiently waiting for your answer while his lips graze slightly onto yours.

“Yes, I do miss you, Veritas, ”

#☆彡veririnwrites #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #dr ratio #dr ratio x reader #dr ratio angst #dr ratio fluff

[alena-draws]

Beware of major Trigun spoilers!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |  Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Read from right to left 

Wolfwood, the comic relief character...

I don’t know if it’s totally clear, but on page 5 you can see Vash’s plant lines in his face! With the plant blood now circling in his veins he has become half plant, thus becoming more like the old Vash..and also I can still give him that beautiful plant pattern. At this point in the story, Vash has obviously already remembered Wolfwood’s death scene. Wolfwood on the other hand, hasn’t still remembered anything...BUT I intended for him to do that, just a bit later. Maybe also in a different way, while Vash remembers during sleep, Wolfwood would suddenly get dizzy or faint, more being washed over with too many stimuli and emotions, hitting him more like a train. Sorry, guy.

2nd part of my vashwood reincarnation AU “Cutting the Strings of Fate”. Look under the cut for the whole story idea:

Many decades after the events of Trigun Maximum, Vash is reborn on the same planet. Even though still needed to sustain themselves, humans are less dependant of plants now, and the great project to cultivate the planet has been very successfull, with the first forests and occassional green that will grow out of the dry soil. Vash is a young but skillful plant engineer, who will also from time to time help out in different towns to have a look at their local plants. One day he starts having dreams about his past life, with them getting clearer and clearer and revealing more of his past. He meets Zazie, who is still the old Beast who knew Vash the Stampede. Because of that, Zazie notices that the very individual electric impulse of Vash, that every being gives off and can be detected by the worms, is indeed very close to the same signal of Vash the Stampede. Thus confirming that  Vash is indeed some kind of reincarnation.

Vash's brother Nai works as a bioengineer, looking after the preservation of important vegetation in another city, where their mother Rem lives, too. Vash meets Wolfwood, who starts to help out in the plant facility as a odd-job man, and they grow closer together. One day though, an accident happens, convincing Vash and Zazie that Vash's history is trying to repeat itself. They fear that just like in the past, Nai who is obviously another reincarnation could run berserk, and that Rem and Wolfwood are, just as well, in danger to become fate's victim once again.

With the help of Zazie that can feel how, after each past event repeating itself in some way, Vash's and the others' electric signals grow closer to their past selves', they try to defy fate and bring about a happy end for everyone. (Yay!)

#trigun #trigun spoilers #trigun stampede #trigun maximum spoilers #vashwood #trigun au #vash #wolfwood #zazie the beast #zazie #comic

[halemerry]

Okay so I wanna take a moment to talk about gravity. Now I know what this sounds like, but bare with me here I promise I'm not looking to do a physics lecture. But I've been rotating this around in my head for a couple days now and I think there's something really critical in the way the show presents it to us.

For example: it's one of the few things actually listed in our introduction to this show individually while our protagonists build the universe, right between matter and everything else.

The show draws our attention to it here fairly bluntly by naming it but there are other incidents that, while I would not call them subtle, are not quite as on the nose.

There are at least three times Crowley chucks something he's holding in his hands across the room. They're played for comedic bits but they all feel very weird and pointed to me - especially both times he does this to books that he seems to have no purpose for holding other than to chuck them later. It caught my attention mostly because everything in me recoiled at the idea of him doing that, but the more I thought about the way they're so visible and pointed was important. They almost feel like weird hiccups in the scene they're in.

We also get gravity as an implied threat with Gabriel climbing out the window and, of course, with every mention of a Fall. But there's also more mundane uses of gravity in the season that while not odd in isolation, the fact we get it popping up so notably is interesting to me. There's also the scene with Nina and Maggie under the awning where rainwater's weight gets pulled down by gravity, the scene in 1941 where Aziraphale drops the picture of them onto the floor before they have their gray area talk, Gabriel dropping the matchbox, and I'm sure there's more. The point is the show is littered with reminders that gravity exists.

Now I know what this sounds like. I know it seems like yeah. Duh. They're on earth. Which has gravity. Of course gravity is a factor in nearly every physical action they do. Why are you even talking about this at all?

Well, it's because of a scene that is one of my absolute favorites in the whole season: the Gravity Lesson.

The scene opens with Jim throwing a book (My Best Games of Chess, an interesting title that feels pointed) repetitively at a desk. He's testing gravity himself, looking confused.

Crowley then descends from the upper level, carrying a stack of books. He pauses his descent on the spiral staircase and notes what Jim is doing.

Then we get this shot. Notice the light here. Jim is in the light from the windows but relatively in the middle of the shot. He's an angel still, though not nearly as in the Light as he was as Gabriel. And he's notably at ground level, on earth. Meanwhile Crowley blends into the shadows of the shop itself. He continues down the staircase, sauntering vaguely downward, until he finally hits earth level to be even with Jim. There's symbolism here, in the lighting, in the way they move through these frames, in the way the staircase spirals like an orbit.

Crowley continues this same sweeping circular pattern to come around the bookshop and place him in front of Jim. Unable to resist a question, even one that wasn't asked out loud, Crowley tells him about gravity. He moves center toward Jim here. A meeting in the middle. This is the first scene we see Crowley interact with Jim in a way anything near amicable. He explains how gravity works. "It's, um... A thing that happens when objects are pulled together. In this case, they're all pulled downwards because Earth is the largest thing around."

As he speaks, Crowley moves away from Jim, toward the back of the bookshop. But he stops very rapidly because Jim goes and asks him why. Crowley frowns to himself. He says he can't remember. He says it seemed like a good idea when they were all talking about it.

He walks back to Jim, giving this question some real thought, and settles on, "So things would stay where you put them, not just drift off." And Jim, backlit by the windows still, kind of frowns and drops the book again and points out. "But it doesn't stay where I put them. It goes down."

When the book hits the table it also visibly does not land precisely over where Jim dropped it either. It settles out of place, bouncing slightly from the force of it. This is what drew my attention to this scene more than anything else.

Because it's interesting isn't it? They're both right in their assessment here. And so much of this story is about people not fitting quite where they're dropped. Aziraphale and Crowley are both caught in Earth's gravity, jostled out of their respective places. The very first shot in the intro sequence emphasizes this idea. Crowley and Aziraphale meet in the middle on earth (where Crowley then says let there be light and lights a flame to guide them going forward).

Gabriel and Beez too fall out of line as soon as they get caught in Earth's gravity. Memories are deleted, but can't entirely escape the gravity of their old home. Memories are added, but you can't predict exactly the way they'll form. Miracles backfire and don't land quite as they're expected. We obey Heaven or Hell as far as we can, but not necessarily exactly as they'd like. These shifts eventually become predictable and eventually we learn we can calculate the odds of how gravity can impact something, but as Jim shows us here a little bit of the drift still happens. In the end it's all just firing bullets at ears and pretend to catch them in our teeth.

And there's viewing this line of thinking from the perspective of God. God who functionally dropped the universe into the gravity of Fate and Choice just to see where it would land.

And then there's the Fly.

As Jim points out here, some things actively resist gravity, at least temporarily. Flies go up. This is very fun, given Beelzebub's arc this season, but I think it's getting at more than just that. Crowley and Jim both pause to watch the fly rise upward, drifting away from Jim and toward the dark half of the shop. Crowley says Jim makes a good point and then shifts into "Right, the plan, Operation: Lovebird."

Given the plot of season 1, I find the use of the word plan here pretty interesting. Especially given that the event that follows this is Crowley trying and failing to get Nina and Maggie to recreate his own meet cute. Like the idea of these two being drawn together will fix everything.

And that got me thinking about Crowley's line at the end of season 1. About what if God planned it that way. What if they're God's own Operation Lovebird. We know that together they can do very powerful things. This whole season starts with them, while trying to keep their power under control and contained, do a miracle so big it could've brought someone back from the dead nearly 25 times. Last season ends with Heaven and Hell thinking they've become something impossible. The Metatron here goes out of his way to separate the two of them like he's afraid of what they're capable of together. And he seems to have successfully managed to do this.

But a Fly can't stay in the air forever. The Fly is always drawn back to Jim. Because not all gravity is about Earth itself. The same way Gabriel's memories are drawn back to him. The same way Beelzebub and Gabriel are drawn to each other in the first place. The same way Aziraphale and Crowley have been described time and time again as drawn in by each other. They're Alpha Centauri. Twin stars orbiting each other. They're constantly going in circles around each other. It's a dance. With the hands touching in the middle. Because that is a gravity too. They complete each other the same way the Fly completes Jim.

So what about choice? Think about the Ball episode. Think about how everyone in the shop is being influenced by some sort of miracle. Their clothes and behavior shift and change and Nina in particular shows us that this is Noticeable. Forcing something in a gravity it doesn't like or want makes it have a hard time settling. It doesn't go quite where you drop it.

And then there's the chat Nina and Maggie have with Crowley. "We're not a game. We're real people," says Maggie. And Crowley tries to argue this saying that they both needed help and they both push back that it is still not his right to meddle with. A game. Like the title My Best Games of Chess. Like the thing we know God has been using as a framing device since season 1. A thing the narrative always has pushed as a bad thing.

Maggie and Nina are choosing to not let beings above them influence their choices. They actively resist being compelled by Aziraphale in the bookshop together because they know what's right. His gravity is not enough to overwhelm their choices. And at the end maybe they're not together but they're working on it. And, maybe, if they do come back together (when they do, according to Maggie) it will be when they are ready and when they are choosing each their free of the constraints of the game or higher power. And that gives me hope that's where we're headed for the Ineffables as well.

#good omens #good omens spoilers #gos2 spoilers #good omens season 2 #good omens meta #Crowley #Aziraphale #Gabriel #Beelzebub #Maggie #Nina #gravity #I'm going sicko mode and I am Thriving

[novalizinpeace]

you know, I think I'm starting to see a pattern in Craftycorn family...

Hympis=Bad

Easel=Good

Canvas=Bad

Craftycorn=Good

I just really think if that Poppy Co idea of a season with the character childrens came true, Crafty and Dogday child would be a little demon.

Not at the point of starting a war like the other 2, Crafty and Day wouldn't let it happen, but I still feel like they would would be a anti-hero creating conflict throught the episodes.

That or they're a chaotic cremlin like their uncle(Catnap), just with even more energy like Dogday.

Good to see someone realizing that fact with crafty's family even before i finish the explanation of the wars, it true that history tend to repeat itself, but Play.Co was a coward

but you know who isn't a coward?

i present to you, the fanfic that Charlie and Alba had been writting for those two

The concept is simple, basically the next gen having Catnap as a mentor to find their place in this world, specially Dogday and Craftycorn's children, since they all are in a constant fight with the ''who is going to get our parents pendant?''

(first concept i made for this yesterday when i didn't have electricity)

To resume each children (i don't have their reference yet, 'm fast but not this fast):

-Sunrise (red puppycorn): the oldest of the triplet, she's a menace in all the ways possible, but not in a evil way, more in a young Gaia way, she like to explore and her nose is almost always on the ground, looking for new things. A leader just in paper, 'cause half the time she doesn't know what she's doing.

-Palette (Cream flying puppy): Middle triplet, he love to use his wings to get away from trouble, or mess with his non-flying sibling, he repeat the word ''what?'' a lot.

-Shylight (white and blue puppycorn): the youngest triplet, he's just brave when he's making a mischief with his sibling, but when he's left alone he become a babbling, nervous mess, probably having a mix of the insecurities in young dogday and craftycorn, Catnap insist he's like this 'cause crafty babied him to much.

-Prisma (yellow alicorn puppy): she was a surprise baby from the stork, nor Dogday nor crafty remember writting a letter for her, but the stork insist they had send one for a ''last special baby''. Since this story is write by adults for adults readers, Catnap think they write it while drunk (aka a literal upsie baby lol). She's around 5 y/o, but she hadn't leave her pacificier yet, and her sibling know is a baaaaad idea to try to take it from her

-Berry Bearhug (brown bear): Catnap's and Bobby's baby, a 1 y/o cutie that had spend to much time with her mother's side of the family, so she tend to run in all four and grow. Catnap isn't bothered by that.

There's also the rest of the characters, that are children of the rest of the critters

we have Cuckoo (black chicken), Kickin's daughter (not revealing the other parent, just know is another man). And Osuke, Picky's son with Inoshishi.

Then we have Bubba's daughter, Smarty Tiny (yup, he give her his parent's middle name).

and the oldest of the other critters children, Hoppy's son, Spring Seashell (the only one that already got his mother's pendant).

'm not making something with this whole concept, my hands are already full with the cartoon and the factory Aus, but be free to think in ideas for this little rascals, the factory gang would love to read about it

#poppy playtime #smiling critters #smiling critters arg #smilingcritterslostmedia #smiling critters oc #ask #nova say

[ladykailitha]

The Harrington Pattern Part 12

Hey all, this story will wrap up today, so next week it will go back to just one chapter a day on Tuesdays and Thursdays and when Glitters wraps up, Sundays will go back to one a day as well.

A short chapter for the first of two, because this chapter got too long and needed to be cut down a tad and the next part fits better as a whole.

Eddie and Steve finally kiss and just giving Steve the loving crafting circle he needs.

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

****

Steve got to see where the cast ate their meals, where some of the cast stayed in large tents (for those that had traveled from out of state but couldn’t afford a hotel), he got to meet the people who sold the food to the tourists, and the people who cleaned up every night.

It was marvelous.

“So was the two events they were trying to schedule at the same time, the joust and your trick riding?” Steve asked after they left the cleaners.

Eddie grinned. “Close, the sword fighting and my trick riding. I told them that I would happily run over those bastards, but I didn’t think the horses would appreciate it.”

“I bet that got them to change their tune,” Steve said with a laugh.

“It sure did, sweetheart,” Eddie murmured.

Suddenly they found themselves utterly alone.

“Steve–” Eddie began, but Steve placed his fingers on his lips.

“Just wait,” he said softly. “There’s something I want to give you first.”

Eddie blinked at him. “You bought me a present?” he asked. Well technically he said, “Ym brut me apresemnt?” since Steve still had his fingers over his mouth.

Steve laughed and dug it out of his pocket. “It’s been on a little journey, one that nearly gave me a heart attack,” he murmured, “but Jeff was able to get it back to me in time.”

He handed the small pouch over to Eddie.

Eddie took it gingerly and rubbed it between his fingers as he looked at the small thing that Steve had made for him. But as small as the item itself was the giving of it, was massive.

“I remembered you telling me that your dice bag broke,” Steve mumbled, “and I really wanted to thank you for all your help this weekend. I don’t think I could of done it without you.”

Eddie looked up at Steve with glossy eyes. “It’s perfect, Stevie.”

“I plan on giving a bunch to Katie for her to sell while I make the bigger pieces,” Steve continued, “and Robin said that I should give the first one to you, because it’s special. And you deserve something really special, Eds. Because you’re special to me and I–”

Whatever else Steve was going to say got swallowed up by Eddie kissing him firmly on the lips.

He had just grabbed Steve by the face and locked their lips together.

Steve was stocked into stillness, but that didn’t last long as he pulled Eddie close to him and deepened the kiss.

Eddie let out a happy sigh as they parted for breath. “Wow, baby. You kiss like it might be your last.”

“Eh...” Steve said with a half shrug and a lopsided smile, “when you’ve faced more then one ends of the world, it very well could be.”

Eddie chuckled, pressing their heads together. “You’ve got me there, big boy.”

“Mhmm,” Steve said softly. “And I’ve got you here, too.” His arms tightened around Eddie’s waist, drawing them flush against each other.

Eddie swatted at him. “Sap.”

Steve kissed him again. “If I’m a sap, then you’re my tree.”

“That was corny even for you, honey,” he murmured, swatting at him at playfully.

Steve just laughed.

****

The end of the Renaissance Fair had come at last. There had been more then a few bumpy moments, but looking out at all the happy faces being lit up by fireworks, Steve was pleased with the results.

And next year was going to be even better, he had plans for helping the kids have quality costumes like Corroded Coffin boys had.

He might still have to do some altering instead of full on sewing all of the costumes, but he was really looking forward to it.

Katie had told him that he had several people offer her crazy money for the pouch he had accidentally dropped, so he promised her a dozen by the end of next week for her next Fair. In different sizes too.

Eddie had been the one to suggest that. Little coin purses, dice bags, and even handbag sized ones. Eddie was even going to help him find the right materials for it, ones that weren’t as expensive as the little dice bag Steve gave him.

Steve was really looking forward to it.

They hadn’t told the kids yet about their change in relationship. Not yet. They wanted to hold onto it for themselves a little longer.

Though, judging from the look that Will and Mike had sent him, Steve was pretty sure most of them had figured it out anyway.

So what started out with longing gazing into each others’ eyes, ended with holding hands under the cover of darkness as fireworks exploded overhead.

Steve had never been happier and he just knew more happiness was coming his way.

****

Steve was proven right when Claudia called him up the next morning.

“Good morning, Mrs. Henderson,” Steve murmured sleepily.

“I’m sorry, dear,” she said, “did I wake you?”

Steve looked blearily at the clock on the microwave. It was after ten in the morning.

“It’s fine,” he muttered, “I don’t usually sleep this late.”

“While that is certainly true,” Claudia agreed, “you also don’t normally spend three full days at a fair. Too much sun, too much fun, and too little sleep makes for a tired Steve. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

Steve blushed. “Thanks, Mrs. Henderson. Was there something you needed?”

“Oh, yes!” she said brightly. “Are you free this afternoon, from around two to four?”

Steve looked over at his calendar and squinted. “Looks like it, unless the nuggets call for rides to wherever.”

Claudia chuckled. “I think they’re going to be just as tired as you and not want to go anywhere today.”

He laughed. “Yeah, probably.”

“So, me and couple of the other moms have a sewing circle every Sunday,” she explained. “And we were all wondering if you wanted to come and join us. We have punch and little treats and spend two hours working on whatever project we have going on while we fill each other in on what’s happening in our lives.”

“You gossip,” Steve accused, teasingly.

She giggled. “Gossip is such tawdry word.”

“Like your every day language wouldn’t make a sailor blush,” Steve said dryly.

“And how would you know that?” she asked, curiosity coloring her tone.

“Ma’am, your son has the worst language I’ve ever seen on a teenager,” Steve said, “and I’m damn sure he didn’t get it from his dad. Even when he was alive.”

Claudia’s giggle turned into a full on laugh. “All right, you’ve got me there, Steve. So you’ll come?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there.”

“Fantastic!” she cried. “We meet at Joyce’s this week.”

“This week?” Steve asked, already plotting what to bring as a treat and which project he wanted to start.

“Yes,” Claudia explained. “We rotate every week so that one person isn’t stuck hosting every time. And if you come often enough, we’ll have it your place once in a while, as well.”

Steve frowned appreciatively. “Sounds good. I’ll see you later then.”

Claudia squealed in excitement. “I can’t wait. We’re going to teach you how to use a sewing machine!”

That really piqued Steve’s interest. “Oh yeah?”

“It was Karen Wheeler’s idea,” she explained. “Karen doesn’t sew like the rest of us, but she does cross-stitch while we all chat. Apparently Mike was telling her about all the sewing you did for him and his friends and that it was all by hand.”

Steve nodded, forgetting she couldn’t see him. “Yeah, my parents thought sewing was for girls, so I learned by hand.”

“Make sure to bring some examples of your work,” she said. “I want to blow Olive Peterson’s mind. She’s of the same mind as your parents, even though what she does, the knitting, was originally only for men.”

“I have these pouches I’ve decided to make and sell,” Steve said with a grin, “so I can bring those to work on and bring some of the work I did for the kids to show off.”

“That’s brilliant!” Claudia said. “I see you later!”

Steve said goodbye and hung up.

This just might be the thing he needed.

****

Part 13

Don't quote me on the knitting originally being for men thing, it was something I learned when I read a 12 Dancing Princesses retelling years and years ago. The soldier in the story knitted to keep awake at night.

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#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #steve is a history nerd

[michaelsfavgirl]

good luck charm

Pairing: Michael Jackson x fem!reader

Synopsis: Michael is a meticulous performer, driven by the pursuit of perfection in every show. Thus, he has crafted the perfect routine to reach his goals and you're an integral part of it.

Tags: smut, masturbation, teasing, p in v, creampie, kinda switch!reader and switch!michael? idk.

Word Count: 4k

Requested: yes/no

Author’s Note: This took an unnecessarily long time to write, I put my whole heart and coochie into it, hope y'all like it :)

Links: navigation | masterlist | taglist

Michael's stress level is through the roof. To say that he is frustrated is an understatement. From the moment he woke up today everything seems to be going wrong. 

The day began with an unwelcome interruption, Frank, his ever-demanding manager, barging into his hotel room at the ungodly hour of 5 a.m. hastily telling him that he had to do an unplanned interview before rehearsals which made michael groan as he had to force himself to unwrap his arms around your warm body and miss the chance to kiss you good morning. The mere thought of leaving your side caused him to groan inwardly, a pang of longing tugging at his heartstrings.

As if that early morning disturbance wasn't enough, the interview itself proved to be a tedious ordeal, sucking away precious moments he could have spent with you. After the boring, repetitive interview just as he dared to hope for a swift return to you, hopefully still asleep with your head nuzzled into his side of the bed, fate had other plans. Dragged into an impromptu meeting, he received the delightful news that the equipment for the evening's show had yet to arrive from the previous state. A perfect storm of inconvenience, how lovely, exactly what he needed. 

The meeting dragged on interminably, leaving Michael gasping for a breath he couldn't seem to catch. Before he knew it, it was time for soundcheck, his every moment accounted for, no respite in sight. 

While he was warming up his voice and helping his dancers perfect the choreography,  you stirred from your slumber with a pout etched upon your features, your hand reaching out instinctively for Michael, only to find no trace of your beloved. Confusion mingled with disappointment as you groaned and finally opened your eyes, peering at the clock, its hands indicating that noon had long since passed.

Unbothered, you reached for the remote and flicked on the television. The first thing you saw was a news reporter talking about Michael’s upcoming concert. You smiled as a picture of Michael flashed on the screen, of your beautiful man which elicited a smile from you, a fleeting moment of joy amidst the mundane. But before you could get lost in your daydreams your body finally woke up from its sleepy state and reminded you of Michael’s promise from the night before.

You don’t know what’s gotten into you lately but your hunger for him has gotten insatiable, a primal desire that refuses to be ignored. Maybe you’re ovulating, or maybe it's the absence of his undivided attention, but at that moment, the reason scarcely mattered.

Your hands drew under the smooth, silky sheets, your fingers traced invisible patterns against your skin as your gaze remained fixated on the photograph displayed on the screen before you. With dreamy eyes, you lost yourself in the image, allowed your imagination to weave intricate fantasies. 

Impatience coursed through your veins, urging you to seek more tangible sensations. With a swift motion, you tugged up the hem of your nightgown, exposing the soft curves of your body to the cool air of the room. Your hands found their way to your tender breasts, cupping them with a delicate touch that sent shivers down your spine. you momentarily closed your eyes from the contact before opening them again and looking back at the image. 

God, he’s so pretty, your pretty boy.

As you gently rolled your nipples between your soft fingers you let out a quiet sigh, feeling some form of pleasure as your nipples hardened beneath your touch, responding eagerly to the stimulation. With each gentle roll between your fingers, waves of sensation rippled through you, igniting a primal fire within. Despite the tenderness of your actions, there was an underlying urgency, a hunger that refused to be quenched.

Your thoughts drift to him, to the man who occupies your every waking moment. He's so undeniably beautiful, a vision that fills your heart with longing and desire. But as much as you loved him, frustration bubbled to the surface. He's a tease, a master of seduction who knows exactly how to leave you breathless. 

He very well knew how much you needed him last night. you had been consumed by a relentless need, your body aching for his touch, your soul yearning for his embrace. Your desires were shamelessly pouring out of you. You had pawed at his chest, begged him to touch you. Yet, all you received were promises of tomorrow. Bastard. Where is he now hm?

Left you all alone with a slippery mess between your legs. You were so desperate you didn’t even register your legs spreading. Your fingers trailed lower, slipping past the curve of your stomach and venturing toward your needy center. With one hand still kneading your tits you let the other lightly dance over your soaked panties. You felt the heat of your poor neglected cunt with your fingertips. The undeniable wet patch on the fabric made your cheeks heat up. 

You circled your sensitive clit over your underwear and instantly bucked your hips from the contact, each movement sending jolts of pleasure coursing through your body. As you continued to move your fingers it became increasingly difficult to keep your eyes glued to the TV. The news anchor's voice was distant in your mind, drowned out by your determination to solemnly focus on Michael. 

In an attempt to replicate his touch, you hesitantly slid your trembling fingers beneath the elastic band of your panties. A soft gasp escaped your lips as you made contact with the slick between your legs. Gliding your finger between your puffy folds and succumbing to the overwhelming sensations, you allowed your eyes to flutter closed, surrendering yourself to the blissful ecstasy.

Feeling the heat building within you, your body started to emit too much warmth for your liking so you impatiently threw the sheets off of you and to the floor with a swift motion. Breathing out you readjusted yourself in a more comfortable position on the soft bedding. Breathing out you resumed your ministrations with renewed fervor, your fingers danced over your glistening pearl with increasing urgency, too frustrated to slowly build yourself to your climax.

As the intensity of pleasure mounted, you found solace in the plush pillows beneath you, your fingers dug into the fabric, trying to ease the gnawing emotions swirling inside you. Head thrown back, you whined as you felt your essence drip down your slit. Oh, how much you had wished that Michael would’ve been next to you. You yearned for his presence, craving the intimacy and connection only he could provide.

Your drooling walls kept squeezing around nothing, aching for the sensation of being filled and stretched by his cock, which made your eyes glossy, the previous pout returning to your face. Muffled sighs left your lips as you pressed the back of your hand against your mouth. Whispering his name, your voice trembling with need. 

All you wanted was for him to stuff your little hole with his cock, that’s not too much to ask for right? Frustration bubbled inside you as You stroked your nub faster. 

Your panties were drenched at that point, With each passing moment your arousal peaked, pulsing clit weeping for that sweet release. But just as you teetered on the brink of ecstasy, your hand spasming from the quick motions, the shrill ring of the phone shattered the erotic reverie, jolting you back to reality. Gasping at the unexpected sound you cursed the damn thing in your mind for taking you out of the arousing trance you had created. 

You tried to ignore it as much as you could but the persistent ringing hindered your concentration. Groaning you reluctantly reached over to the nightstand and begrudgingly answered the call.

"Hey, sweet girl," his voice flowed through the phone, instantly melting away your frustrations and causing you to sink deeper into the soft embrace of the sheets.

"Sorry I left, Frank dragged me out to do a few things before the show and then something else came up and I couldn't get back to you and…” His words trailed off momentarily as he took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, baby, truly."

“It’s- it’s fine…you just promised me something yesterday,” you replied, your fingers idly twisting the cord of the phone as you spoke.

“Oh, did I?” You could practically hear the mischievous grin in his voice.

“Don’t do this to me right now, please just tell Bill to pick me up, I miss you,” you pleaded, not caring about the desperation and neediness evident in your tone.

And now, here you were, scrambling to make yourself presentable. You discarded your underwear and straightened out your skirt, hopping on one leg as you slipped into the other shoe. Hastily fixing your hair and grabbing your handbag, you rushed out of the luxurious hotel room.

Your skin still tingling with anticipation, you hurried to the waiting car, exchanging polite greetings with Bill before settling into the seat. Pulling up the partition, you finally exhale. You feel the slickness between your folds and squeezing your legs together as your sensitive cunt throbs with desire. Sealing your lips you try not to make too much noise.

The car ride feels never-ending as you have to restrain yourself from flipping up your skirt and circling your wet center. You clasp your hands tightly together and gaze out the window, hoping the passing scenery would distract your mind from the relentless ache pulsing through your body.

As the stadium loomed into view, you eagerly opened the car door, thanking Bill breathlessly before darting towards the entrance, eliciting a chuckle from him.

The familiar faces of the bodyguards greeted you as you hurried through the halls, your sole focus fixed on locating his dressing room. Lost in your determination, you collided with Karen, his makeup artist, the collision jolting you out of your single-minded pursuit and back to the present moment.

"Jesus Christ, I'm so sorry, Karen," you blurt out, suddenly realizing how frantic you must have appeared moments ago, rushing about in pursuit of your man.

"Oh, it's alright," Karen replies, adjusting her top with a casual shrug.

"Anyway, I-" Before you can utter another word, she interrupts you.

"Actually, I've been wanting to talk to you about something..." And off she goes, launching into a monologue about something that feels entirely inconsequential in the grand scheme of things.

You nod awkwardly and force a smile, though her words seem to flow in one ear and out the other. Desperately, you glance around, silently pleading for an escape from this conversation, but she appears entirely engrossed in her own narrative. Goodness gracious, can't she see that you're utterly disinterested? You've always had the lingering suspicion that she doesn't quite like you, but that's beside the point right now.

"Sorry, K, but I really gotta go," you interject hastily, sidestepping her as you make your way towards the dressing rooms, leaving her momentarily taken aback.

You are not going to let her cock block you today, no ma’am.

You navigate the corridor, scanning each door in search of the one bearing your beloved's name until, at last, you stumble upon it. Standing before the pristine white door, you take a moment to steady your breath, waiting for the frantic pounding of your heart to ease before you dare to step inside. With gentle knuckles, you tap on the door, the mere seconds that follow feeling like an eternity as you await Michael's response.

When the door swings open, revealing his soft smile on his gorgeous face, you can't help but practically fall into his embrace. Your arms wrap tightly around his torso, your face finding solace against his chest. He chuckles, not in the least startled by your sudden affection, and returns your hug, his arms enveloping you in warmth.

"Everything okay, angel?" he asks.

"...I need you. Want you so bad," you confess, your words muffled by the embrace as you bury your face further into his chest, inhaling his intoxicating scent.

Your eyes drift around the room until they settle on the plush couch. Without waiting for his response, you push him towards the sofa, urging him to take a seat. As his knees buckle from hitting the couch he  settles onto the cushions, you make yourself comfortable on his lap and connect your lips hungrily.

With trembling hands, you hold his face, refusing to let him pull away as you press your body against  his. Momentarily taken aback, he quickly regains his composure, his hands finding their way to your waist, where they caress your heated body with a tenderness that only fuels your desire. 

As his hands trail lower, teasingly squeezing your hips, you break the kiss, a string of saliva connecting your lips. You lean lower and press your lips right below his jawline, where he’s the most sensitive. “Woah there, baby,” he murmurs, not entirely surprised by your eagerness but still taken aback by the transformation of his usually shy, innocent girl into an unabashedly greedy minx.

Uninterested in banter, you forgo any conversation, you leave a trail of sloppy, open-mouthed kisses all over his neck, wet tongue swirling over the freshly made hickeys.

Michael starts to feel the craving that has clouded your mind for hours and bucks his hips forward, making contact with your bare, soaked pussy. “Shit,” he moans, feeling your wetness dampening his trousers.

“No panties, hm? So naughty,” he teases.

If this was happening in any other circumstance you would’ve burned with embarrassment and hid your face behind your hands, but not now. Now, all you care about is sinking down on his lengthy cock and finally satiating your burning desire.

He massages your thighs as he inches his palms under your skirt causing your breath to catch in your throat. Taking advantage of this, he angles his head to your side and presses his plump lips against your slightly swollen ones. Hypnotized by his movements you lean in closer, letting him take over ,you relax into his arms, your fingers fumbling with the buttons of his shirt in your shaky hands.

“"Shh, it's okay, baby. Just relax and take what you need kay?” you coos at you with that sweet, soft voice of his that always makes you melt. 

With a meek nod, you comply, grinding your soaked core against his hardening shaft. He guides your head to rest against the crook of his neck, adjusting his position to press his cock firmer against your eager pussy. A whimper escapes your lips as you cling to his shoulder, your plush thighs receiving gentle caresses before his hands find their way to your ass, cupping your cheeks in a tender hold which elicits a soft sigh from your lips.

“Gonna be my good luck charm, yeah?” he whispers, his breath warm against your ear.

A whispered "yes" escapes your lips as you roll your hips, your sensitive clit rubbing against the fabric of his trousers, leaving a telltale wet patch that he doesn’t seem to care too much about. He just wants his sweet girl to be satisfied and stuffed full with his cum before he takes the stage tonight.

As he kneads your ass in his big hands you feel your high creeping up on you. A flush of embarrassment warms your cheeks as you realize how quickly you're approaching climax. Michael notices your uneven breathing and firmly grasps your hips, halting your movements.

You whine from the lack of friction but he shushes you by taking off your top and loving up on your soft breasts, his lips lavish attention on your soft breasts, careful not to remove your bra in case someone interrupts. As he peppers your chest with kisses, you manage to unbutton his shirt completely, your shaky hands brushing against his toned torso, a silent plea for more.

Amidst the whirlwind of sensations and emotions swirling around you, you fail to notice the swift movement of his hands as he deftly unzips his trousers and tugs them down along with his boxers. Your gaze drifts downwards, and you whimper at the sight before you – his hard cock, weeping precum, a clear sign that he needs you just as much.

"Please," you beg breathlessly, not willing to waste a single moment longer.

Michael takes your smaller hand and gently guides it to the base of his shaft, where you struggle to fully wrap your fingers around its impressive girth. "Go on, take what you need," he urges.

Straightening your back and spreading your legs a little farther, you let your instincts take over as you feel the weight of his shaft in your hand. Slowly, you begin to stroke his cock, marveling at the way the hood pulls back to reveal his glistening tip. A guttural groan escapes his lips as he digs his fingers into the cushions of the couch to restrain himself from bucking his hips.

Drawing closer, you position his tip between your slick folds, a moan escaping your lips at the sensation of his hot cockhead against your swollen nub. With fluid movements, you glide it under your clit, your shared essences facilitating the smooth motion. Lost in the pleasure, you feel Michael's gaze on your face, his eyes drinking in every detail as his fingers tenderly caress your cheek, a chorus of praises spilling from his lips.

"Don't tease yourself, my love. I know you want more," his voice sends a shiver down your spine as you take a deep breath, steeling yourself for what's to come.

With a gentle shift, he adjusts your skirt higher on your waist, ensuring it doesn't get in the way as you steady yourself on his lap. Propping his cock at your glossy entrance, you slowly begin to push his thick shaft inside your velvety walls. A whine escapes your lips at the delicious stretch, your fingers gripping onto his shoulder tightly for support. 

Both of your breathing quickens as you inch lower and lower onto his big, meaty cock, the tightness of your walls resisting his intrusion even as your abundant slickness attempts to ease the way. Eyes shut tight, you revel in the sensation of being filled by him, the delicious stretch of your walls sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body until the back of your thighs come to rest on top of his.

You pant heavily, pressing your forehead against his, seeking solace in his comforting presence. "Just... just need a sec," you murmur, your voice laced with a mixture of desire and anticipation, as you allow your body to adjust to his size. With a grin, Michael reassures you to take your time, his lips pressing softly against your temple in a gesture of affection and understanding.

His grunts mingle with your moans as you squeeze around his fat cock, your body finally accustomed to its massive size. With newfound confidence, you begin to move back and forth, grinding your hips against his, each motion eliciting a wave of pleasure that courses through your body. Your little clit rubs against his coily pubic hair, sending sparks of ecstasy shooting through you as you throw your head back in abandon.

Growing bolder with each passing moment, you lift yourself slightly off his length and drop down again, relishing in the sensation of being stretched with his girthy cock. You repeat this motion a few times, gaining confidence with each descent, until you find yourself bouncing on his stiff shaft.

The room is filled with the lewd sounds of skin slapping together, punctuated by your pants and moans of pleasure. As you continue to ride his shaft, you force yourself to open your eyes and gaze upon your beautiful man. His curls frame his face in a wild halo, his mouth slightly open in pleasure. Unable to resist, you lean forward and press your lips against his once more, the kiss muffling the loud noises that fill the room.

His hands guide you up and down his huge cock, setting a rhythm that drives you both to new heights of pleasure. Your cunt releases more of your juices, coating his pulsing shaft and making your movements slick and easy. Some of your essence even drips down onto his heavy balls, adding to the intoxicating sensation of being completely consumed by him.

Meanwhile, his throbbing tip leaks more and more precum, creating a slippery surface that allows you to slide effortlessly on his length. The combined sensations of his cock stretching you to your limits and his skilled hands guiding your movements send waves of ecstasy crashing over you, threatening to consume you entirely.

Michael's hand leaves your heated skin and finds its way to your lips. Without hesitation, you open your mouth and gently suck on his thumb, lost in the pleasure of the moment. Time seems to stand still as you lose yourself in the rhythm of your bodies moving together in perfect harmony.

Eventually, he gently coaxes his hand away from your lips and brings it down to where you're connected. His wet thumb finds your puffy pearl, rubbing tight circles that send shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body. Your pupils dilate from the intensity of the sensation, and you can feel the familiar coil building in your lower abdomen, threatening to unravel at any moment.

"I know you're close, sweet girl," his words make you squeeze your gummy walls and whine.

Feeling that familiar coil building in your lower tummy you quicken your movements, bouncing on his thick cock like a desperate bunny, wanting to make him proud. Just as you are clenching around him you can feel him throb inside you, his own release imminent.

You're determined to milk him for all he's worth, ensuring that he won't be distracted when he's on stage. Burying your face into the crook of his neck, you whimper at the burning sensation in your thighs, but the thought of reaching your sweet release spurs you on, driving you to push yourself further.

As both of your climaxes draw near, you hold each other tightly, your warm, sweaty bodies colliding in a passionate embrace. Michael, lost in the throes of pleasure, slams his hips upwards, eliciting a yelp of pleasure from you. With each passing second, you feel yourselves getting closer and closer to that pinnacle of ecstasy, your minds singularly focused on one thing and one thing only.

And then, it happens. Your orgasm crashes over you with an intensity that leaves you gasping for breath. As the waves of your orgasm crash over you with fervor, you can't help but moan loudly, completely lost in the throes of ecstasy. Your cries of pleasure fill the room as your walls clench and unclench around Michael's cock. He continues to rub your pulsing clit, prolonging the intoxicating high as you ride the waves of pleasure.

Just when you think you can't take any more, you feel him drive his hips up, a primal groan escaping his lips. Rope after rope of his creamy seed floods your depths, filling you up completely and painting your walls with his essence. He grunts beside your ear, his breath hot against your skin as he stuffs you full of his cum, some even seeping out from the sheer volume.

As he empties himself inside you, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you closer to his chest, both of you panting and spent. The room is filled with the sound of heavy breathing as you let yourselves calm down, your mouth dry from all the moaning and gasping.

As your breathing gradually evens out, you find yourself smiling contentedly, drawing invisible patterns on his chest with your fingers. He chuckles at the sight, amused by how just moments ago, you were bouncing on his cock with such need and now you look like an innocent angel.

"It's not funny, you tease!" you playfully poke his nipple.

"Hey, it's not my fault my shows are better when you're so needy for me," he teases back, planting a soft kiss on the top of your head as you feign a fake pout and nuzzle into his chest.

© michaelsfavgirl 2024

Taglist: @heartss444mj @yeriminist @yeaiamme2 @helloaugustmoon @cinnamoncunt @theladyofmylife @minekarina @kionaaa @theskinniestjackson-denny @youronlyonenini @graciegizmo3184 @theasexual-jackson @mrsmikaelsxn

#kate's writing #smut #michael jackson #michael jackson x reader #michael jackson x fem!reader #x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #michael jackson imagine

[caelivir]

the little things | rayne ames

�� synopsis. rayne loves through actions, but sometimes he loves through words

— pairing. rayne ames x gn!reader

— genre. fluff

— word count. 882

— notes. i love rayne so much

Rayne’s adoration for you spans across the neverending distance of space. It’s a feeling that consumes him whole, but he can never convey that through words. You’ve always known that, and it has never bothered you in the slightest. You always told him that he didn’t have to say it if he wasn’t ready. And that only made him love you more.

That’s why Rayne expresses his love in the way he knows best. Actions. He’s always been a firm believer in the importance of actions. They demonstrate his love when words aren’t able to.

Everyday you come home to a plate of freshly cut fruit sitting for you on the table. There’s always a note sitting directly next to it. Rayne doodles a silly bunny onto the paper because he knows it makes you smile. (Little does he know that you keep them in a box hidden deep in your closet).

Rayne caresses your hands whenever you’re both out with friends. He mindlessly traces patterns on them, and his touch is enough to send you floating above the clouds. He compares your hand size with him just so that he can interlock his fingers with yours, holding it for as long as he can before you can complain about them being sweaty.

He’ll be the first to notice your unlaced shoes and will always be the first to tie them back up for you despite how embarrassing it is. Rayne always watches over you when you’re distracted, moving you away from cracks in the road and protecting you from sharp corners by covering them with his own hand.

Your boyfriend will never fail to pay for your meals despite your multiple protests. He holds your bags whenever you go shopping and will deny you any right to assist him. Rayne gives you his whole attention whenever you’re sharing moments that occurred throughout your day.

People ask if your relationship with Rayne is okay, and it sends a pang through your heart. Seeing your boyfriend misjudged based on his intimidating appearance upsets you, and Rayne will always assure you that it doesn’t bother him in the slightest.

“Well,” He would say, gently tangling his hands with yours. “Do you feel loved by me?”

“Yeah, but-”

“Then that’s all that matters. Everyone else can fuck off.” He offers you a rare grin before taking your cheeks into his hands, pressing a delicate kiss onto your forehead.

And that in itself is all it takes for all your worries to fade away. Other people don’t see the love that Rayne offers to the people he cares fondly about, but that does not mean it doesn’t exist.

Rayne Ames loves you so much that he’s willing to hold you in his arms for hours just as he’s doing now. It’s one of those days when he’s finally free from responsibilities. No meetings, no business trips, no other pending work. He gets to stay home with you and breathe in the scent of lavender that lulls him to sleep. Together, you drift in and out of naps as his arms lay soundly around your waist. It’s a peace he wishes to live in forever.

You face him. A song that Rayne doesn’t know the name of hums from your mouth. With a touch so light it sends chills down his spine, your fingers brush strands of hair away from his eyes. He leans into your touch, longing for it like a necessity. You smile at him, and Rayne believes it’s the most ethereal thing in the world. The stars swirl in your eyes. He finds himself endlessly lost in them.

Rayne loves you. It’s the most undeniable fact of his life, and it’s about time he makes it a stated reality outside of his head. He inhales softly, the words forming on his tongue, and he lets them go before his brain can tell him otherwise.

“I love you.”

He feels your hand freeze, eyes slightly widening in shock. “What?” You whisper, unsure if you heard him correctly.

“I love you,” Rayne repeats, familiarizing himself with the way the words sound out of his mouth, growing comfortable with how they sound. “I love you so much that it is all I think about. I love everything about you, from your perfections to imperfections. You are the best thing the world has to offer, and I love you.”

Your face lights up with brightness to rival the brightest suns. “Say it again.”

Rayne can’t do anything else but comply because he’d do anything to see you this euphoric. “I love you.”

You waste not a single second crashing your lips onto Rayne, molding into each other like you have done so many times in the past. His hand slides from up your waist and onto the familiar softness of your cheek. He kisses you with so much adoration that it makes you dizzy. Between every touch of your lips, he whispers it, repeating the three words like he could never get tired of them. And when you finally pull away, Rayne pulls you in impossibly closer, his heart full of thoughts of you.

Rayne Ames is a firm believer of actions over words, but sometimes, three words are more powerful than all the actions in the world.

#anime #manga #mashle #mashle magic and muscles #rayne ames #rayne x reader #rayne ames x reader #from kor ; ♆

[anystalker707]

Relax, sweetheart

Pairing: Monkey D. Luffy x [male, amab] Reader Kinktober prompt: Inexperience Tags: Whiny (bottom) Luffy / He's needy ! / Overstimulation / Penetration

requested by the cmt anon

KINKTOBER LIST MASTERLIST

          Luffy hummed as he climbed on your lap as he usually did, arms and legs wrapped around you—not caring what you were doing nor what you would say. He just sat there and buried his face in your neck with a soft sigh, enjoying the comfort it brought him. At first, his clingy behavior bothered you, but you learned how to like it after some point, actually getting used to it.

Despite always hugging people in general, getting physical affection from a partner was a whole new thing. Well, having a partner itself was enough of a big change. Luffy was simply infatuated with the feeling, afraid that he would die just because he was away from you, so he made sure to always be around, at least holding your hand, though he would be in your personal space more often than not.

“(Y/n),” Luffy whispered, wrapping his arms around your neck.

The rest of the crew was upstairs, doing something that Usopp had come up with. It didn’t catch your attention, and it apparently didn’t catch Luffy’s as well. Only a few minutes after you went to the guy’s quarters, Luffy was there, making you put the newspaper away on the couch. You wouldn’t deny him any affection—not when he was that cute and loving.

“Hi,” you whispered, kissing his shoulder a couple of times. He eventually pulled his head away, smiling at the kisses on his cheek; his nose scrunched as you kissed his nose, eyelids, and forehead. Finally, you pressed your lips to his. “What’s it, sweetheart?”

“It’s boring without you,” he whispered, letting you take his hat off around his neck carefully to put it aside so that it wouldn’t get in the way.

Your heart fluttered as you looked at Luffy, gently running your fingers through his hair. “Aren’t you bored about being with me all the time, though?”

Luffy gasped, quickly shaking his head. “Never!” He nuzzled your cheek and gave it a small kiss. “But there’s something I wanted…”

“So you’re using me?” You teased with a smile, rubbing his lower back while wrapping your arms around him again. Your words made him glare, bottom lip stuck out. “Okay,” you chuckled, “I’m sorry. What do you want?”

As Luffy’s sulky expression faded away, his cheeks started reddening, and his eyes wandered around the room. “You know,” he mumbled, “the thing we did the other day…” He fumbled with his fingers behind your neck. He swallowed, observing the pattern of the wall with the attention he never gave it before. “Everyone is away right now. Could we do it again? Please?” His voice was a simple whisper as he finally mustered up the courage to look at you in the eyes again. So cute.

You thought for a moment. There weren’t many things Luffy could be referring to, but it didn’t hurt to check. Your hand rested on his thigh, slipping under his shorts a little bit. “Are you talking about…”

Luffy promptly nodded, and you did the same in response with a little smile.

“Of course,” you whispered, leaning in again, nuzzling his nose lovingly. “Anything you want, sweetheart.”

As he relaxed on your lap, Luffy’s expression softened a bit, his arms becoming tighter around your neck. “Thanks,” he mumbled; your lips grazed together.

“No need to thank me for something like this.”

Your lips pressed to Luffy’s gently, giving him a soft kiss that slowly got deeper. He was always sloppy with kisses, enjoying them despite being so messy about it. Just the feeling of your lips against his was enough. He sighed softly, letting his lips part open invitingly; his breath hitched in his throat once your tongue touched his, running along the back of his teeth before pressing down to his own again. He was so weak for that.

Whatever Luffy muttered fell incoherent among his soft moans as he started shifting on your lap, trying to find a position comfortable enough to grind against you. He gasped when your hands grasped his hips to hold him in place while you pushed your hips up against his, deepening the kiss.

“Mmph, please,” Luffy mumbled between kisses.

“Yes, yes.” You nodded with a smile, kissing him back and pushing your hips against his slowly—he whimpered as his arms tightened around you. Your hands slipped under Luffy’s red top, feeling along his skin gently, rubbing circles into his waist with his thumb. “Go grab the lube from my bag?”

He seemed a little reluctant, but he slowly got off your lap and moved to the corner of the room. Your bag was thrown on the corner with some of your stuff, mostly personal ones, which you didn’t mind Luffy seeing or knowing about. With the lube bottle in hand, he walked back, his lip between his teeth and shorts tented up uncomfortably. He hissed a little as he adjusted his shorts, about to get on your lap again when you raised a hand.

“You can undress, sweetheart.” You smiled at the way his eyes lit up and took the lube from his hand to set it aside, then start taking off your shirt. 

Luffy was fast, of course, arms wrapped around your neck once he straddled you again and kissed your cheek, your jaw, and went down to your neck. His lips were all over the place, kissing wherever he could reach; the neck kisses he gave you were to satisfy his need for you, his need to touch you and give you love. He’d just learned how to give this type of kiss after you two started dating. Well, he practically learned everything about relationships and intimacy with you, so it wasn’t surprising how messy he was. None of you were bothered about it, in reality—Luffy wasn’t even conscious of how inexperience could be badly seen, and you just loved how adorable it was to see him learning it all.

A sigh escaped your lips once Luffy started nipping and sucking on your neck, trying to leave a mark near the base, where your neck encountered your shoulder. He only stopped when he felt a hand grasp his ass cheek.

“Up,” you whispered. “Just a little… Okay, that’s good.”

Luffy struggled a little to keep the position, making it easier by supporting himself on you. The kisses on your neck had resumed, just to be paused once again when he felt fingers press to his entrance, tracing and spreading the lube over it.

“Relax, sweetheart,” you whispered as your finger started pushing inside.

A breath caught in Luffy’s throat before he whimpered, trying his best to relax as you’d told him to whilst your finger pushed deeper inside him. He still wasn’t very used to the intrusion, but he knew it would get better—it had happened before, and he knew you could make him feel very good. You’d always take care of him.

One finger, two fingers, and it was already getting a lot better. Luffy had his eyes pressed shut and his face half-buried into his arm and your shoulder, soon relaxing the pleasure overcame the discomfort—his moan was muffled as he shifted his hips a little. The third finger made him hiss a little, but the little kisses to his shoulder made him slowly relax and allow the good sensations to take over again.

Luffy gasped when your fingers left him, about to protest when he remembered what was going to happen next. He sat more towards your knees, observing you unbutton your pants and lower them along with your boxers just enough to put your cock out. Luffy blushed and smiled at the sight, his own cock twitching in anticipation. You took the lube in hand, but he held your wrist.

“Can I?” Luffy observed you carefully before his lips parted into a smile with the nod he received in response; he took the lube from your hand and applied a generous amount to his hand, remembering the instructions you’d given him before. The bottle was placed aside, and he rubbed his hands together to warm up the liquid and just then wrap them around your cock. His eyes were on yours, watching every reaction to make sure he was doing it right, and of course, he was.

A gasp escaped your lips as you held onto his thighs, fingers sinking into his skin. His hands were warm around you, running up and down your cock to cover all of it with the lube. He pressed his palm to your tip; the way you moaned a little louder made him smile more.

“Done,” Luffy whispered as he wiped his hands clean on his own top and wrapped them around your shoulders.

“Good boy,” you whispered with a soft smile, kissing Luffy’s collarbone; he hummed at the praise. It always made him melt a little. One of your hands held on his hip, and the other was around your cock, just for time enough to guide it into Luffy—he whined, tightening his grip on your shoulders. “Relax,” you whispered to him again, kissing his shoulder as he slowly lowered himself on you.

The feeling was a little overwhelming. It made Luffy feel so full and so good after the burning feeling and initial discomfort wore out; it even took him a while to gather himself back together, letting out a breath he’d been holding with a whimper. He needed to spend a moment just sitting on your lap and enjoying the kisses on his bare shoulder between the sweet words you whispered to him.

Sparkles were sent up Luffy’s spine once he started moving his hips. He couldn’t help the sounds that slipped past his lips, but he didn’t care either, only focusing on making you feel good. The pace was a little messy at the start, with many pauses so that Luffy could gather himself together, but he soon found a kind of steady rhythm that felt just fine.

“Mmph, love,” Luffy whispered as he pressed his lips to the side of your face until you turned to give him the kiss he was looking for, nipping on his bottom lip.

“You’re doing well,” you muttered between moans, running your hands up and down his thighs in a soothing manner, helping him remember to take his time. “You feel so good around me, y’know that?” Your eyes held his hazy gaze. “So tight, baby. You make me feel so, so good.”

Luffy clenched around you in immediate response, letting out a quiet sound in response as he moved his hips a little faster.

“You can move more,” you whispered, holding his hips firmly to make him still down for a moment so that you could guide him until all of your cock was inside him again—he let out a loud, strangled moan, thighs quivering as your cock reached all the nice spots inside him. He didn’t know such a good feeling existed. “That’s it,” you said with a soft smile, kissing his cheeks before he started rolling his hips again.

“Yes,” Luffy gasped, now letting his hips move in a wider range. His movements grew slower, but he didn’t mind it, as long as he didn’t get overwhelmed. He remembered something, though, breathing in deeply before leaning back a little, and his thighs were quivering again at the way the tip of your cock brushed against his prostate just right this time. “Fuck,” Luffy whimpered, trying to catch his breath, but it kept getting caught in his throat as he rolled his hips, keeping the angle. It was so good that he could feel his eyes watering. Was that even possible?

Luffy was clenching so deliciously around you, in a way your fingers sank into his thigh, leaving behind crescent marks as you tried to control yourself. You struggled to keep your hips in pace, groaning as you breathed in before finally shifting your positions.

With the haziness that clouded his mind, Luffy needed a few seconds to understand what was going on, adjusting his grip around your shoulders. His legs wrapped more around your hips as he whined, feeling your cock push into him again. “Did I do something wrong?” He whispered breathlessly.

“No, no!” You kissed his cheek and then his lips. “‘M just going to make it easier for both of us.” Your hand wrapped around Luffy’s thigh and the other one pressed to the couch, right beside his head, to help you up. “There we go,” you sighed, looking down at him, starting to move your hips. Your eyes were fixed on his face, watching his expressions carefully, both because he looked so good and to make sure you weren’t doing anything wrong.

Luffy’s eyebrows knitted together as his mouth parted open with a moan once you picked up a proper pace. You could keep a rhythm that Luffy couldn’t, sending pleasure running up his spine in a constant flow that he wasn’t used to. The whimpers spilled from his lips almost with every breath of his, but he never said the safe word. Great. Not bad.

“That’s it, baby,” you whispered, feeling Luffy slowly relax a little, but he was still clenching tightly around you, his nails running along your shoulders. Your own moans filled the room as well, growing louder every once in a while. It felt so good.

Your pace picked up, and it was a matter of time until the tears that had only filled Luffy’s eyes so far started escaping his eyes; you immediately paused once you noticed them.

“D—Don’t stop!” Luffy gasped, one of his hands wrapping around the arm that held you up. “Please, please,” he mumbled and only stopped when a moan cut him off because you started moving your hips again, keeping that faster pace.

Even if it wasn’t that fast, honestly, it was still pleasurable; constant, and good enough to help the pleasure pool down in your lower stomach. It was so fucking worth it, watching Luffy becoming a mess under you, crying just because your cock wouldn’t stop hitting that spot inside him that made his toes curl and his back arch. There were even more tears when you let go of his thigh so that you could jerk him off, stroking his cock according to your thrusts—you didn’t press his tip or touch any sensitive spot, but just holding him was enough, apparently. He was so sensitive.

“Mmph, yes,” he said, breath faltering in a way that resembled a sob as he arched his back, leaking in your hand. His hands were tighter around you, scratching your skin, and the burning feeling they caused only helped the arousal grow more intense in your lower stomach. He cried more under you, chest shuddering as he tried to catch his breath. “Mmph, (y/n)…”

You started moving your hips with a little more precision, wrapping your hand tightly around the base of Luffy’s cock while you tried to catch up with him at least a little. He whined and squirmed under you, squeezing his legs tightly around your hips.

Luffy’s words fell incoherent among his moans, but it didn’t matter, as long as none of the sounds resembled the safe word. As your orgasm approached, you stopped squeezing him, instead jerking Luffy off until he finally came—he clenched tightly around you, practically milking you as he came all over your hand and his own abdomen. He came a lot, spending a hot minute riding out his high. Both the sight and the feeling helped you cum so easily now, unable to stop moving your hips while you came inside him until Luffy’s groan became one of discomfort. You’d neared the overstimulation, and it wasn’t something he was ready for, at least yet.

Your chest hurt a little while you tried to catch your breath and also bring yourself back to reality, slowly regaining control over your limbs. Blinking a couple of times, you finally focused on Luffy. He looked all worn out.

“You did so well,” you breathed, kissing his forehead, his nose, and then pecking his lips. He barely reacted, eyes closed, breath heavy. You carefully pulled away; both of you groaned at the motion, but it was quick. “I’ll be back in a second, okay? I’ll clean you up and come cuddle you,” you mumbled and fixed your pants before you could grab a blanket from the pile of clean laundry in the corner to throw it over him.

.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.

#one piece #opla #one piece live action #monkey d luffy #x reader #x male reader #fan fic #fan fiction #luffy x reader #oneshot #scenario #imagine #one piece x reader

[findafight]

Tw for hospitals and use of of pain medication, infection, and canonical injuries, brief mention of the AIDS crisis. Ohhhh steddie dating pre S4 au where Robin has now been subjected at work to Steve both striking out spectacularly and flirting like he knows he's getting laid that night. She isn't sure which is worse. (The striking out is worse. She is glad her friend is happy. She's just painfully single and pining away)

The same stuff happens in s4 minus Robin and Eddie pushing Steve and Nancy together romantically (Dustin is trying to push Steve to both Robin or Nancy he's like dude these are girls you like why are you not making a move on them! I want you to be happy!!! And Steve rips his eyes away from Eddie's lips like huh?) But they're still like hey Nancy! It would be nice! If we could be friends maybe! And it's still awkward.

Robin is out here sweating and glaring at Steve and eddie trying to beam thoughts into Eddie's brain in the Upside Down like Eddie please cool it I know it's a stressful situation but stop staring at Steve's tits for five minutes pl-oh giving him your vest??? You think that's going to help? Ok buddy. I'm just going to. Distract Nancy up ahead a little bit while you and Steve chat aaaaand neither of you are listening. Fine.

And it's still a mess. Max and Eddie and Steve end up in the hospital. The ground split open but sealed itself once Steve cut Henry's head off. Everything is over.

Eddie gets discharged first, despite having more bites than Steve, because his didn't have two days to get infected with Upside Down nastiness. So he ends up camped out with Robin at Steve's bedside as he fights the infection with antibiotics (the doctors hope will work), pain meds, and a slight fever.

Which is to say, completely out of it and high as a kite.

So when Dustin visits and Steve is awake, he gets to see a big, goofy grin spread across his best friend's/adoptive older brother's face as he reaches out and says "dusssstyyyy! Cmere. Lemme. Boop you." And yeah, okay, it makes him feel a bit like a baby but Steve is out of it and apparently drugged Steve likes to Boop his younger friends noses. Dustin can accept that. He sighs and leans forward and allows his nose to be booped.

Steve giggles and smiles and pats his head. "Good to see you, man"

Dustin smiles, a bit watery because it's hard to see Steve in the hospital again, and because it was fucking terrifying to watch him nearly drop to the ground after making sure Eddie got treatment, only being caught by Robin. Dustin almost lost three people he loves, and he is so fucking glad they're all alive, if not well.

"yeah, Steve. Good to see you, too. They say when you're allowed to blow this pop stand?"

Steve frons. "No. Still got Upside Down goobies in my guts, 'parently."

Robin sighs. "They said a few more days. Make sure the infection is clear and there's no suspicious side effects."

"yeah. That's what I said, Robin."

Dustin grins, then settles down beside Robin, across from Eddie. He hasn't said anything since Dustin walked in, but was playing with the sleeve of Steve's hospital gown and tracing patterns on his arm. He looks up at Dustin, and offers a small smile.

It's a bit weird, how close he's stuck by Steve this whole time, but Dustin guesses they probably bonded when they got sucked through the watergate, and that Steve saving his life really endeared him to Eddie. He hopes they can be actual, real friends once things settle. Given how much Eddie is at Steve's bedside, he thinks they're well on their way to it.

They all chat for a while, Steve sometimes getting off topic and dreamy, but looking happy even when he isn't quite following what they're all saying. Dustin is pretty sure Steve doesn't have his hearing aids in on top of the drugs, so he isn't really surprised.

His mom eventually bustles into the room, and fusses over Steve. "Oh, sweetheart, I'm so sorry. Let me know if we can do anything, I mean anything, to help, okay? I'm sorry I cant visit for longer today, but what with everything happening like this, I -"

"isss okay, Mrs. H...Ma." Steve corrects himself immediately, smiling. Dustin's insides always get a bit squiggly when Steve calls his Ma, Ma. Like they're actual brothers, and she's their mom, and no one could ever argue they're not family for real. What makes it better that it was Ma who insisted Steve call her that since January of '85, as though she knew just how much both Dustin and Steve needed each other like that.

"I'll be by tomorrow, okay, dear? Robin, you and Eddie are alright for tonight? I'll stay tomorrow but today I re-"

"it's fine! Seriously, Mrs. H. Don't worry about us. My parents will force me home tomorrow anyways, but tonight we're good." Robin grips at Steve's ankle, grounding herself. Dustin doesn't think there's been a day when she hasn't been in Steve's room. Doubts if the places were reversed Steve wouldn't have to be dragged out to shower and change clothes. They're so weird, but Dustin is glad Steve has someone older that loves him like Robin does. It makes it easier to not be able to spend all day with him like he wants to.

"okay. Alright." She leans forward and kisses Steve's forehead a few times, brushes some stray hairs out of his face, just like she does when Dustin is sick in bed. "You take care Steve, sweetheart, and make sure you let Robin and Eddie take care of you too." She turns to Dustin. "I'll give you a few minutes to say goodbye and then meet me down at the car, okay?"

Dustin nods, and his mom is out the door. He sighs. "Well. I guess I'd better head out." He gives Steve a hug, a bit awkward from Steve lying down, but it's fine, Steve wraps his arms around Dustin and tries to give him his normal double squeeze, but it's more of a press with his hands than anything. Dustin'll take it. "I'm glad you're getting better Steve. Glad we're all safe."

Steve's smile is soft, gooey in a way that he usually tries to hide. "Glad you're safe, too, man. Love you." Something in his smile sharpens, then. "Unlike some people in this room you actually...listened? When I told you not to be a hero. And didn't nearly almost die."

Eddie groans, dramatic. It seems like a game they're playing with each other more than anything, but it's a game Dustin doesn't know the parameters of, and it's jarring. "C'mon, Steve. I said I was sorry! I wasn't going to let Dustin get hurt."

Steve glares at Eddie, which would be more intimidating if he wasn't scrutching up his nose or propped up by pillows freshly fluffed by one Claudia Henderson. "Which is the reason why you're allowed in here even though you almost died. Dustin is safe, and that's good. But I'd've been so fuckin pissed if you died."

Robin snorts, pats Steve's hand. "Oh, buddy. You'd have been inconsolable."

"yeah. Exactly. it would have fucking sucked, Eddie. So. I'm still mad at you, even though I love you. Probably because I love you."

Which is. Not what Dustin was expecting. Sure, Steve was pretty open about his love. Especially after Starcourt, when he finally seemed to settle into something Dustin thinks of as comfortable with who he is. (Which is, actually, a big softie with a bit of a bitchy mouth) He's told Dustin he loves him before, and he's pretty sure he's told Max too. Steve says he loves Robin all the time, just not romantically even if Dustin doesn't think that's entirely true, but.

This feels different.

It is different, given the way Eddie squeaks a bit and sways towards Steve. "Steve..." He breathes, his eyes big and wet and wide. He swallows. "Steve. Dustin doesn't. He's still here, i--"

Steve's brow furrows. "Yeah? So? Did you not want...oh." something in the blankness that drops over Steve is scary, especially in comparison to how Steve's been open and lax the entire time Dustin's been in the room.

Steve turns his head slightly towards Eddie, ten slightly away, like he doesn't know if he wants to look at him or not. Dustin shuffles his feet, not quite sure what's going on, feeling awkward and wrongfooted. Robin stands, puts her hand on Dustin's shoulder, tries to turn him away and out the door, but Dustin isn't leaving when Steve's face is all stiff and blank like it is.

"steve--" Eddie sounds wrung out, wrecked. What the hell is going on?

Steve sniffs ever so slightly, interrupting Eddie. "You don't have to say it. You don't even have to-uh. To feel it, right now. That's okay. I've done that before. I can wait." Dustin sees a muscle twitch in his jaw. "But if you- if you don't think you can, I need to know now, actually. Because now Dustin knows but he's my brother so that's good and fine but if you don't want to--if you don't think this is gonna, like, be a long-term, tell people important to us kind of thing; if you're realizing that it's been long enough that you should feel that--that way about me but you don't, then I need to know because I don't want you lying about how you feel. I can't do that again. When you say it back I want to be sure you mean-"

"I love you too, Steve! Jesus fuck." Eddie blurts, apparently having had enough of. Well. Everything Steve was saying.

It's dawning on Dustin that maybe when Steve and Eddie said they knew each other they didn't just mean from highschool. That they. Well. Obviously they love each other. Which is....something to consider later because Steve looks like he's about to cry. Because Woah, Dustin has misread a lot between the two of them if they're...like this.

"yeah? You're sure?" He says, wobbly now he isn't rambling.

Eddie's squished himself more into Steve's space. "yes, yeah, of course Steve. Fuck. You met Wayne! I want you in my life, for a long, long time. I don't- I didn't do anything to make you think I didn't, did I?" His voice is a little rough, and little pleading.

Steve shakes his head, grips Eddie's hand in his m, even as Eddie uses it to support himself over top Steve. "No. I just. I know it freaks people out, is all, and I don't want you to freak out, or leave, or think you had to because we've been dating for a few months and I want to say it. It just came out because it's true."

Eddie laughs, leans in reeealy close to Steve. "Honey. It came out because you're high and morphene."

Steve grumbles a bit, but he's smiling too, and knocks their foreheads together. "Yeah. And also because it's true. I love you."

Eddie's eyelids flutter, Dustin can see, as he grins. "And I love you." He says, before closing the distance and kissing Steve squarely on the mouth.

Robin clears her throat. "As...heartwarming and sappy you two are. Dustin has to leave, and probably...has some questions? That he's not going to be a dick about?" She says this as she grips his shoulder tightly, in a way that is definitely a threat.

Dustin nods furiously. Eddie sighs but pushes away from Steve, not before pecking him again, drawing that dopey smile back into Steve's face. "Yeah." He says. "I'll walk you out Henderson."

Dustin waves goodbye to Steve, who seems cheery once again, wiggling his fingers are Dustin and Eddie, before walking out the door behind Eddie.

"so. How long have...has that been a thing?" He asks, as soon as they clear the doorframe.

Eddie huffs, but seems good natured about it. "Few months. December."

"okay." Says Dustin. "Uh. I didn't. I didn't know you...or Steve, I guess...I didn't know you guys were-" he lowers his voice, despite the hallway being surprisingly empty. "Gay."

There's something steely in Eddie's eye when he answers. "We're not. Well-we are, but we both also like women."

Something doesn't sit right about that with Dustin. "But! You just said-"

Eddie holds his hands up, and Dustin shuts his mouth on instinct. "You can like both while just dating one person, Dustin. Just because you like women doesn't mean you're going around with girls who aren't Suzie, right?" He nods. He adores Suzie, can't really imagine looking at any other girl like that because she's just. Amazing. She's his girlfriend and they love each other, and just because girls are pretty great doesn't mean Dustin wants anything other than friendship wi--oh. He sees where Eddie is going.

"right. Yeah. Sorry."

Eddie shrugs. "Steve kinda dropped a bomb in both of us, today"

""isn't it weird though?"

"well...girls and guys are different"

"they are indeed."

"so, if you like girls, why do you like...boys...too?"

"why do you like girls and not boys, Dustin?"

Which is hard to answer because, well. Dustin's never really thought about why he likes girls. He just does. And maybe that's what Eddie means. There's no reason, really. People just...like what they like.

Or there are reasons, because girls are pretty and often smell nice and Suzie looks like a mad scientist when her ponytail gets a little loose after hours of working on a project, her eyes glinting behind her glasses as she giggles and bites her lip, just a little. But that's mostly Suzie. So. He can't really put a finger on why he's only ever had crushes on girls, or why before last summer they've never been as much or as consuming as his love for Suzie. Never been anything like the long days spent together at camp building and creating and blasting ideas off each other, before one day Suzie took his hand and they ended up sneaking away to look at the stars, trying to outdo each other's knowledge about them and slowly being pulled into the other's orbit like binary stars. He's never really wanted to kiss anyone like he wants to kiss Suzie, not even when he had a brief and fleeting crush on Max.

"oh." Is what he says, and feels pretty lame for it.

Eddie shrugs. "You can't really choose who you like." He says before breathing in. "But you do choose who you love, and how you love them."

And. Well. Dustin thinks of his Ma sweeping Steve up into family dinners every other week, and how the party absorbed Max into it as easy as anything, and holding Suzie's hand as they looked up at the stars in dew covered grass feeling like the world starts and ends there, and of Steve and Robin cackling together and having seemingly no personal space or boundaries between them. And of Steve and Eddie, saying I love you for the first time in a hospital room after saving the world.

"That's pretty good." Dustin says, and Eddie smirks at him.

"yeah. Steve said it to me, way back on our second date."

Dustin scoffs. Because he should have known; it's so typically Steve to say something like that. "And you were surprised when he said he loves you?"

Eddie's eyes twinkle in the florescent lights of the hospital. "Nah. Just... it's different being pretty sure, and knowing for sure. I also didn't want him saying something in front of you he'd regret."

He nods. "That's fair. I...don't know how I would've taken it if Steve weren't in the hospital, honestly. Like!" He tries to reassure Eddie "I would have gotten over it, for sure! But if had had sat me ore the party down and talked it out I might've been, like, y'know. Super weird about it. Because. I mean. This talk is good, right? I'm think about things and thinking about how I've only ever really wanted to kiss Suzie, even if I thought about maybe abstractly kissing other people. And how we as humans have all these quirks that let us be human, but different, which enable us as a species to thrive." He heaves a breath. "But. Seeing Steve all loopy and saying it, and then being worried you felt pressure about it, I dunno. It makes sense, I guess. I don't know how you two met or got to know each other, but. I guess it makes sense, how you like each other. And talking to you now. It's helped, I think."

Everything is a bit scrambled in Dustin's brain, the love and the confusion and the worry, because it's setting in that in Hawkins, something like this, for Steve and Eddie, is dangerous. Something that could get them hurt or killed, scorned by the town they've helped save.

His mother always grumbles agrily when ads about how the virus going around is God's punishment for sinners, or how it's cleaning up the streets of unwanted people gays and addicts. She huffs, swears. Says that just because bigots don't consider the people getting sick as wanted or valuable, doesn't mean no one does. That no one deserves to get sick for things they cannot control, or for things they can. A smoker is more likely to get lung cancer, but that doesn't mean they deserve it more than someone who's never seen a cigarette.

Their families will mourn them the same.

They reach the main doors, and Dustin sees his mom has pulled into a pick up lane, blinkers on. He turns to Eddie, and burries his face in his neck.

Eddie takes it in stride, parting his back and giving him a bit of a squeeze. It's not as good a hug as Steve gives, but that bar is only really surpassed by his mom, so it's still a good hug.

"please be careful, Eddie."

"ah," says Eddie, and he pulls back slightly. "We are, man. You're close to both of us and didn't suspect. We know what we're doing."

Dustin raised his eyebrows. Now that he has context, a lot of interactions between Steve and Eddie in the wake of getting them out of the Upside Down seem a lot less friendly.

Eddie chuckles. "Seriously. We are. It was just hard during everything, and, well, we both feel safe around you guys. I think Steve's been gearing up to ask me if we can tell all of you sheepies soon."

"yeah?"

"yeah, bud. Don't worry about us."

"Considering you just got released and Steve is still in the hospital, I think a little worrying over you jackasses is justified."

Eddie smirks. "Fine. A normal and reasonable amount of worrying, then. But no more than that. Now, git! Your ma's waiting on you."

Dustin smiles, "yeah, yeah. I'll see you tomorrow."

"yep. You know where to find me."

He waves again as he hopes into the front seat, and buckles his seatbelt before Ma can ask him to. He smiles at her, and feels oddly...grounded. a mystery has been solved, even if Dustin doesn't have all the pieces, he still has the big picture.

"everything alright, Dusty? Nothing wrong with Steve, is there?" She asks, even as she changes out of park.

"yeah, yeah. Just accidentally stumbled over something saying goodbye, and was worried about them. But everything is fine. Robin and Eddie have Steve handled."

They turn out of the hospital parking lot, heading for home. Ma smiles. It's softer, more indulgent than usual. "Yes. They're good for each other, I think. Compliment one another nicely."

Dustin doesn't bother asking which set she's talking about, thinks maybe they both know.

#steve harrington #robin buckley #eddie munson #dustin henderson #steddie #steve and dustin #steve and the party #stobin #only barely there but know they are not normal about each other please #stranger things #stranger things au #stranger things fanfiction #uh. this kinda ballooned. in the next few days ill maybe edit it a bit and add a proper beginning to it then post it to ao3 #it was supposed to just be a silly little thing i wrote in a hammock now look at it #coming out #love #hospitals #pain medication #finda writes stuff #finda's rambles #fics #uh. please let me know what you think. #aids crisis #claudia henderson #suzie was his camp best friend but everything at summer camp is cranked up to twelve so he falls faster for her than he normally would #duzie #also also this is part of my steve calls claudia ma agenda

[windvexer]

the storm (and very scared) witch here again. thank you? this actually just happened 5 minutes ago and i never tried this before. i've been doing small stuff for a while now, but it was mostly moon rituals and protection stuff. i mean it was already thundering before (it's a storm afterall) but the one that i heard was so fucking loud it made my heart beat so fast I almost screamed. i never had a reaction this strong? it scared the shit out of me. i guess i just needed to tell someone but none of my friends believe in this stuff

Listen

Witchcraft is so Big and so Real and so Available that I think if most people knew how Here it is they would freak the heck out.

I think that Witchcraft eats itself and it's perpetually sinking underneath the sands, just like the tide sinks your feet into the sand at the beach.

I think it hides and it's easy to hide because people are Powerful and our ability to Bury is *chef's kiss*

And a lot of what people do, I don't know, maybe this is shitty of me, I think that a lot of what people do is stack the dry grains of sand and admire the patterns the waves make in the sand,

and right there, the whole time, are the Pillars, sinking deeper and deeper, and refreshed with each tide.

So it can be easy to see Witchcraft as nothing but stacking grains of sand.

But knocking at that sinking Pillar is so easy, and so powerful, and so scary.

Scary!!

Scary like first love, scary like the first time you come up on mushrooms.

Does it make you want to scream? All the better. There's good living in a good scream.

Do the friends not believe? That's okay. Diversity makes us all stronger. How much emptier the world would be if we all believed in magic.

Consider doing more stuff with storms in the future. Consider building a little shrine to storms. Do research and see from what direction your storms come. What mountains corral the rain? What rivers exhale the frozen fog?

These can be some of your new friends. Friends who live in the thing which sinks into the sand.

One day, someone will tell you a story of the thunder clapping during their first spell, and you will be there to listen and to help.

And then you, too, will be a Friend in the Pillar.

And I think that's nice ^-^/

#scuttles back under a damp rock clacking my crab claws #answered

[chaifootsteps]

I think there's an argument to be made in favor of showing the reality of what Angel deals with on the day to day, both on the gear he wears and the SA he faces from Val.

but these kinds of scenes can very easily be exploitative; used for cheap shock value & end up fetishizing that abuse by presenting it as titillating. it's long happened to female characters where the violence becomes an excuse to show them brutalized or with their clothes ripped off and given how often Angel is sexualized it can just as easily happen to him.

Addict managed to communicate a whole history of sexual abuse committed by Valentino with just a forced kiss and a hard cut to Angel having a breakdown in his room. The scene focused on Angel's emotional distress rather than the act itself, so it avoided objectifying him further and was still effective

this is part of a wider pattern already established by Helluva Boss, where abuse is treated in the least sensitive, most sledgehammer blunt and cartoony way possible.

going by HB, abusers are:

always obvious and easy to spot,

they're complete monsters devoid of any life or interests of their own,

they have no inner lives whatsoever because they only exist to hurt the victim (Stella stays around the house despite not liking Stolas, Crimson wants to force Moxxie into a gay marriage despite being homophobic - to the guy who put his son in prison in the first place!!) - they're inconsistent and unknowable,

they abuse their victim openly in front of others everyone goes along with and tacitly approves of it (Stella's friends happily laugh at her jokes disparaging a demon prince who could kill them all despite knowing he's in earshot)

they cannot be easily stopped even when they have far less power, either in magic or social standing, than the person they're abusing (Stolas and Stella, again)

they hang around long past when they should despite the cast having ample reason to proactively do something to stop them (everyone leaves Crimson alive despite killing all his minions, Stolas knows Stella has ordered a hit on him but probably still lets Octavia spend weekends with her??)

they are fundamentally Bad People. None of the 'good' characters can every be called out for being abusive, what they do is funny - because they are fundamentally Good People. It doesn't matter how many traits Stolas and Stella have in common, he is Good and she is Bad. It also doesn't matter that Stolas sexually coerced someone for a season and a half, neglected his daughter and abused his servants, and barely feels bad about his own infidelity. He is Good so anything he does can be excused. Same with Loona - beating people is bad, but it's OK for her to give her dad a black eye and beat his head in with a picture frame, because she's one of the Good Guys. Same with Blitzo demeaning Moxxie constantly in the workplace - it's funny when he calls Moxxie fat, it's abuse when Mammon does it to Fizz

Abusers are fundamentally Other from Us, and we never need to examine our own behaviors as long as we know we are fundamentally Good.

like how is any of this making the world a better place? or advancing the understanding of abuse? it's an embarassingly dated and in places actively harmful depiction of what abuse is or isn't (I don't even want to get into the bad takes I've seen surrounding Stol/tz and what coercion is or isn't, but you can probably add that to the list too)

if the Angel scenes are as brutal as they sound then the rating should be an 18. I don't entirely blame Viv for that, I know sometimes ratings boards have a weird habit of treating works that have LGBT content as somehow 'more adult' than movies with straight up rape and SA scenes in them (though HH is both, so idk how literal bondage gear didn't up the rating), but I hope against hope there's some kind of trigger warning for this somewhere, and it isn't just dropped on the viewer's lap in order to shock them further with the world's bluntest and most graphic animated scene of SA it can

This. All of this, every word.

#Anonymous #viv stuff #hazbin hotel critical #actual blog post

[reds-writings]

Ooo any grump/sunshine day to day with old man Rust!!! Maybe fluff prompt pt.2 #3 or #6!

You’re writings for Rust are incredible please never stop! <3

i mostly combined 3 and 6 with this ask and went with something kinda new?? this features a nurse!reader with a bit of an age gap taking place but nothing crazy. i love the sunshine/grumpy trope so i hope you enjoy!! (also I'm trying out using a placeholder nickname for the reader so i don't have to use y/n as much so pls let me know if y'all enjoy that at all)

When Marty first sprung the idea of a temporary at-home caretaker on Rust the man had half the mind to think the blonde was just being a tremendous chain-yanking shit. But his friend was dead serious and it was less of a ‘think on it’ idea and more of a ‘I got Maggie to pull some strings and a nurse will be coming in next week’ idea. No matter how much Rust reared and protested Marty insisted that he have someone to keep an eye on him since Marty couldn’t be his personal maid for much longer given that it had already been a couple of weeks since their hospital visit courtesy of that fucker Childress. 

Rust didn’t want a damned nurse. He wasn’t some pathetic geriatric fuck in desperate need of some lousy assistance. Sure, anytime he moved too much or stood for too long he felt like he’d pass out from the pain of the wound that nearly took up his whole abdomen but that didn’t mean jack shit. Marty brushed off any complaints without so much a blink and kept reassuring that it’d do the grump some good to have company other than himself or the neverending onslaught of his usual doomsday-esque thoughts. The day you showed up at Marty’s door bright and early on a Monday morning with a smile too genuine for Rust to fully comprehend, you were not at all what he was expecting. 

Not that he really had any expectations to begin with. Maybe that you’d be older. More seasoned. Not nearly 10 years or so his junior. Certainly not possessing such a radiantly pleasant disposition that no one else seemed to harbor anywhere around these parts. He wasn’t above immediately clocking the beauty you exuded but eyeing younger women was more of Marty’s MO than his own. 

You seemed untouched by the vast ugliness of what the world fostered. There weren’t many moments where you didn’t have a look of general felicity painted on the soft planes of your face. It was a habit of yours to wear brightly patterned or colored scrubs that he, at first, deemed a semi-loathsome eyesore (which then eventually grew on him). An array of silly patches and pins allowed on your work bag full of the necessities you slung along for the day’s endeavors with him. Kitschy socks you kept as a hidden surprise within the confines of your clogs that you’d show to him even if he never gave the inclination that he cared about something so trivial. Your unmoving cheeriness translated to a certain form of naivety that had something ugly burning beneath the prison of his ribs. At first, he thought he just felt this brand of annoyance towards a preconceived notion of cluelessness you carried but over time it found itself melting away into a subconscious need to shelter you from the horrors of earth. 

It took plenty of time to chip away at that impossible exterior of his but with your incessant refusal to let his initial gruffness and straight-up disregard of your presence deter you he had no choice but to give in to your efforts of friendly engagement.

Given that there wasn’t much to do for him care-wise besides keep his wounds clean, change bandages, make sure he didn’t collapse, and keep up with any meds he was prescribed post-hospital stay you took on the role of making the passing days a little more interesting than they’d usually be if he were by his lonesome. You’d find little non-exertive exercises to do in the afternoon to keep his muscles from getting too weak. Drag him along to the grocery store to shop so that you could try out some new recipes you saved online. You were steadfast in making g sure he wasn’t just surviving off the cigarettes and beer he’d stubbornly sneak behind your back. You also made it a goal to keep up with trimming that bristly mustache of his and making sure his hair didn't get too unruly. You’ve gone as far as to bug him about letting you practice your braiding skills so that you could fulfill your niece’s creative hairstyle wishes but no dice. One day you’d wear him down enough into agreeance. That was becoming easier, though, wearing him down for just about anything. One look at those doe-ish eyes and the battle he was prepared to fight had already been lost. Rust had a feeling you were more clever than anyone probably gave you credit for but there was no use in acknowledging that your stare was having an increasingly strengthened hold on him. 

To say Marty was absolutely tickled by the noticeable change in his friend’s demeanor throughout this new development was an understatement. It was about time there was something Rust somewhat enjoyed besides stewing over the point of humanity’s existence or yapping on about unsavory ideas involving shit like damnation. It didn’t take long for your attitude and delightful qualities to earn you the nickname Sunny. Marty deemed it exceedingly fitting and even Rust found himself playing into it much to everyone’s surprise. Hearing it from him had a splendid giddiness sparking throughout your system more than you’d like to admit. 

Today you’d driven him out near the water where you both could sit and read for a while. You always stressed the importance of fresh air doing him some good and he never complained. If it meant getting him out of Marty’s bachelor pad here and there he’d let you drag him anywhere as far as Timbuktu. As chatty as you could be, you stayed mindful of any moment of solitude he may require during these daily visits. Sometimes it was nice to just exist and absorb the ambiance the outside world had to offer in each other’s presence and for that he was grateful. 

“You’re starting to walk better on your own, Rusty.” You broke the bubble of serenity, looking up from your book –some light read of a romance– to fix him with a small smile that quirked the corner of your lips. The sun’s fading light drenched your figure in the hues of impending dusk and some nagging part of him found it to be an effortlessly alluring sight despite its simplicity. You’d have to be calling it a night soon but what was a few more stolen moments in each other's company? 

“Yeah, s’gettin’ a bit easier I suppose. Soon enough I’ll be back to mostly functional as opposed to some lame cripple.” He replied in dry amusement, dog-earing the page he was on to bring his full attention to you. Marty often gave him flack for his outgrown hippie look but it added some sort of rugged appeal in your opinion. Not that you’d ever find the courage to forgo any sense of professionalism by making your whims involving Rust Cohle known. But as he looked at you now with weathered blue you couldn’t help but give in to the ideas of something beyond this current format of companionship. 

“Cripple is a bit of an exaggeration. You’ll be up and at em’ before you know it. Though it sucks I won’t be of much use no more.” There was a twinge of sadness in your voice and he hated the frailty of it.  

“Ah…don’t worry, Sunny. There’ll be some other helpless old soul who’ll need you around.” 

“That’d imply you’re just some helpless old fart in the throng of said souls. Which you’re not. Plus, none have ever entertained me as you do.” You chirped in that playful matter-of-fact way you often do. 

“Entertainin’. Hm. That’s new.” He shook his head before looking out toward the water. 

“Even if your physical health will no longer be of issue I’ll make it my new mission to spruce up that self-deprecating brain of yours. Not that I’m necessarily trained within the realm of mental health but I can youtube it or something. I have my ways.” You wiggled your fingers in jest as if casting a spell. In truth, it was as if you already had when you came around all those weeks ago. 

“Can’t get rid of you that easily I’m guessin’.” He shot back in a lousy attempt at a joke. Whether you could read his poorly hidden desire to keep you around or not, he couldn’t tell.

“You know by now I’m like a leech. A cute, fun leech! It’ll take a lot to get rid of me for good,” You paused with a bout of slight insecurity, “unless you don’t want me around to bother you longer. I know I can be a bit much sometimes-”

“You can stick around, Sunny. Can’t have Marty as my only friend. That’d be plain sad.” He was playing it off cool, unaware of the barrage of butterflies he had set off in your chest with that simple statement. 

“I might have to alert the masses now that you consider me a friend. This is by no means a small feat– wait does this mean I can practice my braiding finally?! My niece is getting antsy and I-”

“Don’t push your luck.” He had to look away from the blinding beam of your cheek-splitting smile as he moved to stand up. Without fail, you rushed to his side to place your dainty hand into his so that you could help. The small action sent lightning down the length of his spine. The warmth of your joking jabs about your newfound title of friendship encased his whole being. He couldn’t help but think back on the conversation he’d had with Marty outside of the hospital, about light versus dark. Perhaps you manifesting into his orbit was another indicator that the light just might actually be winning. 

#reds-writings #rust cohle #true detective #true detective season 1 #rust cohle x reader #anon ask #writer blog #true detective imagine #rust cohle imagine

[kennahjune]

HI OMG HELLO

Just a little obsessed with the whole “projecting my interests onto Steve” train I have going so here ya go—

Steve who has an interest in mythology of just about any kind but specifically Greek Mythology because “holy shit everyone’s gay.”

Steve’s hosting the usual Saturday hangout at his house because it’s the one time everyone’s schedules line up. He’s sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table, Robin on the floor to his right and Dustin to his left. Everyone else is spread among the couches and armchair, squeezing together in a way that seems more uncomfortable and over heated than the Devil’s asscrack.

Dustin was going on a ramble about something science-y. Robin and Mike would cut in occasionally with their own arguments and begin a whole new debate. Steve wasn’t paying much attention though.

His focus was on Eddie, who was staring intently at the living room window. Specifically the one that held his mothers flower vases.

When there was a break in the argument where everyone caught their breaths and gathered their thoughts, Eddie struck.

“What kind of flowers are those?” He pointed at the light yellow vase with a complicated floral pattern.

Steve paused and debated answering. He knew it was a trap. The flowers in that vase held a long story— one that everyone in the room would be subjected to hearing if Steve couldn’t help himself.

But Eddie was looking at his expectantly, Dustin tilting his head in curiosity, and even Mike eyeing him with a genuine wonderment.

So, Steve naturally conceded. “They’re hyacinths.”

Argyle whistled lowly. “Pretty name.”

Steve grinned. “Yeah well— they get their name from one of the prettiest people in history. In my opinion anyway.”

That seemed to pique everyone’s interest. Bad move on Steve’s part. At this rate, he’s gonna crack and go on a rant. Nobody wants to listen to his rants.

“Who do they get their name from?” Will asked, pulling his feet up to sit crisscross on the armchair. Mike was sat right next to him on the seat, squished into the arm but making no complaints. Mike nodded at Will’s question, as if agreeing that he also wanted to know.

Steve shifted and pulled one leg to his chest, resting his arm on it and fiddling with his hands. He avoided eye contact with just about anyone, before cracking a little more and looking at Robin.

With the nod she gave him, Steve felt himself break.

“They get their name from the Roman Prince Hyacinthus.”

Nancy hummed and took a sip from her Coke. She waved her hand as if urging him on. Steve continued.

“Um— well Hyacinthus was a Roman Prince beloved by all, including the God Apollo—“

“But isn’t Apollo a guy?” Mike interrupted. Looking over, Steve saw the pure curiosity and something that looked like hesitation on his face. Next to Mike, Will looked equally if-not-more hesitant but also very happy (?).

Steve allowed himself a small grin and nodded. “He is indeed. Hyacinthus is actually the first openly gay Greek character that we know of.” Steve’s smile brightened at the grin that made itself present on Will’s face and look of pure endearment on Mike’s.

“Anyways— Apollo fell in love with Hyacinthus but so did Zephyros, the God of the West Winds. Hyacinthus chose Apollo over Zephyros, however. And one day while Apollo and Hyacinthus were being all couple-y or whatever in the fields and playing discus, Zephyros took advantage of the winds and sent a discus spiraling straight at Hyacinthus and it ended up killing him on impact.”

He paused to take a breath, the story taking hold of him. Steve could feel the rush of excitement at finally talking about it— this story was his favorite and the next part always got him.

Among his break, he looked up and started at Eddie’s eyes on him. Of course, everyone’s eyes were on him, but Eddie’s shone with such a fondness that Steve felt himself having to do a minor breathing exercise to calm his heart down.

He cleared his throat with a cough and picked up where he left off, tilting his eyes down and keeping them on his fidgeting hands.

“Well— um, it was typical ‘if I can’t have you no one can’ fashion but the death shook Apollo to his very core and after trying everything in his power to get Hyacinthus back he finally gave in and grew the hyacinth flowers from the grass wherever Hyacinthus’ blood touched ‘to keep him in the sun where he belonged’.”

And with that, Steve looked around at everyone in the room. El’s eyes were filled with wonderment. Sitting next to her, Max looked shocked— though, at the story or Steve, he was unsure.

Jonathan had a small smile playing at his lips as well as Nancy. Argyle gave him a thumbs up and a “cool”.

Mike and Will were both seemingly buzzing with excitement and joy, Steve could see it in their eyes and on the matching grins they wore.

Dustin and Lucas— the latter sitting behind Steve on the couch— we’re both grinning at Steve and talking over each other, trying to tell him several different things at once.

But over the chaos surrounding him, Steve’s eyes were drawn to Eddie’s. Doe eyes filled with fondness and endearment. Steve’s grin turned to a bashful smile and he was quick to turn away.

He instead focused on Dustin and Lucas, pretending to not notice when Will followed Mike to the kitchen. From the knowing glint in Jonathan’s eyes, he also knew what was happening. They shared a snort and cheersed their Coke cans.

When the night was over and Steve was fresh out of mythology tales to tell the Party, everyone began leaving.

Mike, Will, and El left with Jonathan and Argyle. Nancy drove Robin, Dustin, Lucas and Erica as well as Max— who was spending the night at the Sinclair’s.

It was when Steve went to clean the living room that he noticed he never saw Eddie leave.

Instead, the metal head was standing by the window in the living room. The same window with the hyacinths. Steve furrowed his brow in confusion and walked over.

The moment Steve was within reaching distance, Eddie pulled him into his side. Steve let out an ‘oof’ sound, and caught himself on Eddie’s chest. Rather than pulling away from the other, Steve made himself comfortable and settled into Eddie’s side with his head on his shoulder.

“I love hearing you ramble,” was the last thing Steve heard before Eddie kissed him soundly.

#stranger things #steve harrington #dustin henderson #mike wheeler #robin buckley #eddie munson #will byers #el hopper #found family #max mayfield #lucas sinclair #erica sinclair #argyle #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #steddie #steve x eddie #stevexeddie

[mama-qwerty]

Corruption

Dreams. He'd been having those dreams again. They come and go, sometimes staying for longer than he'd like. But they always ended in images of pain and destruction.

Knuckles couldn't understand why he was having them, or where they were coming from. The Master Emerald was safe. There'd been no odd surges in chaos energy. No outside threats that he could see or feel. The Emerald itself didn't seem to be too upset or anxious—as anxious as a giant rock could be—but it could sometimes sense odd vibrations in chaos or time which indicated something wrong.

Knuckles had felt none of this. It was as if the strange feelings were coming from himself.

But that was ridiculous. His only purpose in life was to protect the Master Emerald. If there was no threat to the Emerald, then everything was good, right?

Still, the dreams persisted.

He was getting worried. So worried, in fact, that he stood before his communicator, arguing with himself about whether or not to contact his friends. But what was he supposed to tell them? "I feel like there's something wrong, but the Emerald doesn't and I think it's all in my head because of these weird dreams I've been having"?

Gaia, he'd never hear the end of it from Sonic.

But the dreams wouldn't go away. And they were getting worse. Every day he woke in a sweat, hands shaking and heart pounding. But he couldn't remember the details. Just the feeling.

Pain.

Fear.

Confusion.

Destruction.

And one other.

Guilt.

He wasn't sure why. But that one made his stomach churn and feel as though it were full of lead.

He'd been losing time. One moment he'd be standing before the Emerald in the warm morning sun, and the next he'd be on his back in the forest, surrounded by broken trees as the evening approached. He couldn't remember anything between those moments.

He was scared.

He wouldn't admit it, would never say it outright or even verbalize it to himself. But he was. Something was happening to him, and he didn't know what. Didn't know why. But Tails might. He may be able to find out.

So Knuckles stood before his communicator. He'd only used it a handful of times, and Tails had made it so all Knuckles had to do was push a button to sound the alarm at the fox's workshop. His friends would come running as fast as they could to Angel Island, to help deal with whatever threat Knuckles had found himself needing assistance with.

But the echidna hesitated. What was the threat? The danger? He only had a vague feeling. Nothing concrete. But his fear was enough to make him move forward, reaching with a shaky hand toward the small device.

Right before his hand touched the big red button, a feeling came over him. His hand, his whole body shook, and his heart pounded in his chest like a war drum.

He couldn't think. Couldn't breathe. A jolt of fear and shock and anxiety overcame him, and he watched as his outstretched arm changed. It was like watching something move through water—the angles all wrong and wavy. He uttered a surprised "What?" as the first bolt of pain ripped through him. He cried out, pulling his arm back as he watched in horror as the fur he'd known for his entire existence smoothed, the color changing in a swirling pattern.

Terror gripped him, and he lunged forward to pound his fist against the button. He needed help, he needed his friends. NOW.

The communicator shattered under the force of the impact, and he had time to hope that the message would still go through, right before his mind went blank.

-X-X-X-

"Do we have any idea what we're up against?" Sonic called as he stood on the wing of the Tornado. Tails shook his head as he brought the plane around to the flat area of Angel Island that served as their makeshift landing pad.

"It was strange," he said, checking the Miles Electric attached to the dash. "Knuckles' alarm sounded for a few seconds, then went dead. That could have happened if the communicator was destroyed. Whatever it is must be pretty bad."

"If anything's hurt Knuckles, they're gonna regret it," Amy called, her brow furrowed. "I'll make sure of it."

Sonic silently agreed. He stood on the wing as Tails brought the plane in closer. The kit didn't want to land yet, instead opting to scout the area to see if they could find the problem Knuckles had called them in to help with. At first, nothing seemed out of the ordinary, until they rounded the Master Emerald shrine.

"Holy Chaos," Sonic hissed under his breath, before raising his voice to be heard over the engines. He pointed at the base of the shrine. "What is that?"

Tails and Amy leaned over to look, and both wore identical expressions of shock and disbelief. What greeted them was a large . . . something, that looked part organic, part crystalline. Colors swirled over the creature, the pattern slow and seemingly calm.

Until it heard the plane pass overhead.

It lifted its . . . head(?) to . . . look(?) at them, and a seam split in the bottom to throw out a loud sound that seemed a mix of a roar, a shriek, and an unsettling almost musical tone. The soft pastel-ish colors that had been flowing over it turned deeper and more garish, and moved as though a visual representation of the thing's emotional state.

And right now, it looked pissed.

"That must be what Knux needed help with," Sonic said, dropping into a crouch, his brow furrowed. He flicked his eyes back and forth, but saw no sign of the echidna guardian. "I don't see Knux. This thing must have been too much even for him."

"If that thing's hurt him . . ." Amy growled, her teeth gritted. She was just itching to summon her hammer, but couldn't do it until they'd landed.

"I'll land and let you two take care of that creature," Tails said, turning to come around as he descended. "I'll make sure the Master Emerald is okay, and see if I can find Knuckles."

"Sounds like a plan, little brother," Sonic said, a familiar smirk on his lips. "Amy, you catch up when you can. I'm gonna see what this thing's got."

Before Amy or Tails could respond, Sonic was freefalling, rolling into a ball to land safely near the shrine. The creature seemed to hear him—sense him?—and turned toward the hedgehog.

"Hey there, big and ugly! What's a brute like you doing in a place like this?"

The creature lumbered forward, moving clumsily on its four limbs. It almost seemed drunk to Sonic, as though it wasn't as sure footed as it otherwise should be. The colors flowing over it had faded somewhat, but still moved in a pattern that seemed like a visual representation of 'alert'.

Sonic moved toward it, watching and waiting for that first attack. It uttered growls and other sounds that made his head hurt—as though he heard them in his mind instead of his ears—but he ignored it. If this thing had taken out Knuckles, there would be some payback owed.

"C'mon big fella," the hedgehog taunted. "Show me what ya got."

That seemed to be what the creature was waiting for, as it moved forward faster, moving at almost a gallop-like gait. Sonic let it get closer before launching into a spindash, hitting it square on the . . . well, where its jaw should have been. It didn't seem to have a face—just a spot with a few crystal-like shards sticking out.

The thing lurched to the right after Sonic's attack, stumbling and moving its limbs quickly to try and stay upright. Once it had regained its footing, it turned, swinging one of the massive forelimbs at Sonic. He avoided it easily, and threw himself in another spindash at the beast's side. It uttered what seemed like a surprised sound, before tipping over and hitting the ground hard.

Sonic stood back, rubbing a finger beneath his nose.

"C'mon, you're not even trying. Why would Knux need help with you?"

He stood and watched the creature push itself back to its feet, just as he heard Amy and Tails come running from behind.

"Sonic! Are you okay?" the kit called as he came to a stop next to his brother. Sonic waved a hand.

"This thing is literally a pushover. I barely touched it and down it went."

"That's odd," Tails said, rubbing his chin with a hand. "Why would Knuckles call for help if this thing is so easy to take down?"

"That's what I said."

"Where is Knuckles?" Amy asked, twisting her head this way and that to look for the echidna. "Did you see him?"

"No. Tails?"

"On it."

The fox kit hurried away, heading straight for the Master Emerald shrine to verify its safety, and see if he could spot the wayward guardian.

When Tails was just about to reach the base of the shrine, the creature's demeanor changed like a light switch. Its head snapped up, looking over toward the shrine, at the boy about to climb the steps. It issued a sound that had all three clapping their hands over their ears, before leaping to its feet and heading straight for Tails.

"Oh no you don't," Sonic growled as he zipped forward, curling into a ball to spindash directly at the thing's face again. It moved slightly faster this time, jerking its head to bat the hedgehog away.

Tails stood for a second, frozen in terror, before lifting himself into the sky. The beast launched forward, attempting to swat the boy out of the air, when a large, heavy hammer came down on its head, slamming it to the ground with a loud crash.

"Get to the Emerald!" she yelled, pulling her hammer back for another swing. "FIND KNUCKLES!"

Tails nodded, and turned to fly up to the gem at the top of the shrine. The creature suffered another blow from Amy's hammer, but the sight of the fox so near the Master Emerald seemed to enrage it and it lashed out, knocking Amy away as it tried to regain its feet to reach Tails.

Sonic was through playing around. He zipped around to gain a better attack point, and launched spindash after spindash, crashing into the thing's side, head, shoulder, and back again before it could get an inch closer to Tails. Amy returned with an angry shout, bringing her hammer down again and again on the creature's body, her worry for Knuckles and anger at whatever this thing had done to him overtaking her.

Tails made it to the top of the shrine, and surprisingly found a number of chao gathered around the large gemstone. Exclamation points floated above their heads, and they moved forward to surround the fox once he landed, pulling and grabbing him in an excited, almost panicked way.

"What? What's wrong? Is the Master Emerald okay?" he asked as the little creatures surrounded him. They grabbed him from all sides, climbing atop his tails and grabbing his arms as they tried to convey whatever had upset them.

Meanwhile, the battle raged below. The creature roared and swung at Sonic and Amy, but couldn't connect a solid blow. Every hit the two hedgehogs threw landed, and the beast began to slow as their attack tired it out.

Tails watched the fight from his vantage point, but the chao were insistent and would not let him go. He tried to calm them, tried to soothe them, but they were almost frantic in their behavior. As he tried to pull himself from their grip, he didn't notice he'd been backing toward the edge of the platform at the top. It was a good 30-40 foot drop down, and the chao on his tail meant he couldn't fly.

Sonic got another good hit in on the creature, sending it to its belly. He clicked his tongue, shaking his head.

"This thing is a piece of cake. Why couldn't Knux take it down himself?"

"I don't know," Amy said, resting the head of her hammer on the ground as she watched it try to push itself back up. "I just wish we knew where he was."

As the two talked, the beast looked toward the shrine, anger surging at the fox that close to the Master Emerald. But it was moving away from the Emerald, which was good. It was moving closer to the edge of the top . . .

A new feeling shot through the creature, and the dark colors flowing over it in its anger and pain suddenly changed to an ice blue.

Protect. Help. Save.

The beast was up in a heartbeat, heading toward the shrine at a speed that Sonic and Amy would never have expected.

"Tails, watch out!" Sonic called when he noticed what was happening. He zipped forward but the creature was there first, pivoting around the side of the shrine and lurching forward with its hands cupped to catch Tails and his hanger-on chao just as they tipped over the edge. The fox and chao landed safely in the beast's hands, and were lowered gently to the ground.

"What the . . ." Sonic stood with his mouth open, just as Amy rushed to his side.

"Did I see what I thought I saw?"

"Why did it . . ."

Tails sat on the ground, the chao releasing him to hurry toward the creature. They patted the thing's side and caressed its head, the exclamation points changing to hearts.

"What are they . . ."

The creature shuddered, lowering itself to the ground as the colors flowing over it changed once more. At the top of the shrine, the Master Emerald glowed, and the creature's glow changed to match its green. As the three watched, the great beast began to shrink, the glow from it blinding them momentarily until it faded.

And Knuckles lay where it had been, battered and bruised.

"Oh great Gaia," Amy moaned, dropping her hammer and rushing forward to cradle Knuckles in her arms. "Knuckles? Oh, Knuckles! I'm so sorry!"

The echidna breathed heavy, his body shaking from the pain and confusion. He couldn't remember anything. He'd . . . called them, hadn't he? Why? Was there a . . .

Threat. There'd been a threat. Something had scared him, so he called them. Yes, that was it.

He lifted his head and blinked at each of his friends in turn.

"Is it . . ." He winced, his tongue running over the split in his lip. "Is the threat gone? Are you all okay?"

Sonic and Amy exchanged a glance. Amy kept holding onto Knuckles, pulling him to her in a tight hug. He grunted—he was injured, likely from whatever threat he'd called them to help with. She loosened her hold slightly, but did not let go.

"Where is the threat?" he asked, trying to push himself to his feet. "Is it still here?"

Tails moved around to stand near Sonic, and the two exchanged a glance.

"No, it's gone now," Sonic said, before taking a deep breath. "Knux, we need to talk."

#sonic fanfiction #sonic the hedgehog fanfiction #knuckles the echidna #sonic the hedgehog #tails the fox #amy rose

[donnerpartyofone]

I saw this post a few weeks ago that was like a chart from a psychology text that described how different sorts of childhood trauma can produce different dysfunctions, one of which was (I *think*) Emotional Neglect -> Magical Thinking. I was so intrigued by that. Magical thinking is sort of an umbrella term for the belief in a causal relationship between two unrelated factors; it can include wishing on a birthday cake candle; the feeling that The Universe is telling you to call your ex because something reminded you of them; OCD-type rituals that you believe will ward off misfortune; the deeper meanings mis-assigned to mundane events that can be produced by schizo-affective disorders; and also religious convictions to some degree, although those are rarely considered a clinical problem as with anything that helps or doesn't seem to hurt the participants. There seem to be as many potential causes of magical thinking as there are forms of the thought pattern itself, and trauma is an interesting one.

It might be better to think of "trauma" as "helplessness" here. Magical thinking can help impose a feeling of organization where there is chaos and loss of any sense of significance. There was a lot of magical thinking going around in the gritty, depressed town where I'm from, and I often thought it was because of the persistent economic pressure. It's relatively normal for kids to be susceptible to spooky ideas, but many of the adults were also full of ghost stories and superstitions. I have one very sensible friend who is smarter than I am, who grew up there too, and we often reflect on this, which helps me know that this isn't strictly an idea I have due to my own social choices. My friend doesn't live in that town anymore either, but she's always digging up interesting stuff related to it, and one day she showed me the website of someone there offering his services as a paranormal investigator. He was in his 20s, and the site included a lot of unconvincing photos and a long, vigorous testimonial by the guy's mom. Part of me was dying to put it on tumblr, but it would only have resulted in unnecessary cruelty. I was as much a victim of magical thinking as anybody, and I think even when I was pretty young I was aware of what motivated me to be so naive and gullible: that a world full of ghosts and vampires and UFOs and such was preferable to what I normally experienced, which was a consistent sense of boredom and meaninglessness and drudgery and embarrassment and pain and suffocation in an ugly, flavorless universe whose nicer side was not going to be available to me. I had a lot of really damaging friendships with manipulative assholes and pathological liars because I was so very willing to believe the crazy things they told me, just in case any of them were true, because such a truth could change my whole life.

Sometimes I think it's amazing that I never wound up in a cult, although I guess those relationships were sort of like little one- or two-person cults. Once in a while I read about some crime involving young people who think they're vampires or something, and I have a deep feeling of pity, because I think I know what they were going through (except for the part where they think they can do whatever they want to other people). The sad story of Shanda Sharer involves a whole group of badly abused and underprivileged teens, some of whom thought they were witches or vampires, and it just makes so much sense to me that they would be overtaken by these fantasies of secret meaning and power. Recently I watched Bad Vegan on Netflix, something that I avoided at first because I thought it was just about rich douchebags humiliating each other--which is like, what else is new--and to some degree it is, but actually it's way more disturbing than that. Ambitious young raw food entrepreneur Sarma Melngailis was manipulated, isolated, and ultimately kidnapped by this sadistic freak who preyed first on her loneliness and financial fears by pretending to be a rich suitor who could solve all of her problems; then he preyed upon her feelings of personal insignificance and failure by convincing her that he and she had been selected by a cabal of extraterrestrial illuminati who would make them immortal. Sarma seemed completely broken down to me, and I was amazed by her courage in describing the scam she fell for, that she must have known would invite derision. Part of the documentary explores her youth as a kid who always believed she could become something special, and then mundane tragedies like her parents' divorce brought her back down to earth in a painful way, and it seemed like she spent the rest of her life haunted by the idea that she might just be an ordinary failure of a person. I think that's part of what made her so vulnerable to this psychopath, that he was able to access her secret dream of having a special destiny. I got one of my friends to watch the show and she was very frustrated by it because she just couldn't figure out what Sarma's problem was that would cause her to ever believe the things she was told. I tried to reiterate what I've said here, but it didn't seem to mean anything. Ironically this friend is a practicing witch with formal beliefs in the supernatural, including that people can awaken special powers within themselves, but I guess one man's magical thinking is just um not another man's magical thinking.

I still have a lot of magical thinking going, but it doesn't have the same character it once did. I tend to think of it more as "symbolic thinking"; I have a hard time accessing senses of meaning and hope, let alone any kind of self-belief, and sometimes symbolic gestures and concepts can provide that access better than my own direct, practical attempts ever could. It helps that I have a basic agnosticism about the invisible structures of the world, like it's easy for me to believe that there is more to life than what comes in through the five senses, even if I don't pretend to know entirely what that "more" is. That may help me believe that "anything is possible" and I shouldn't give up, even if I direly want to and I know I'm being kind of irrational. Magical thinking can be a double-edged sword, but maybe it's better than nothing.