#8th grade jeans

[megcheese]

The next craft creation is ... scarecrow!

Now that I have a house I would like more kitschy and cutesy outdoor decor. I got a set of lawn flamingos the moment I found out they originated from a nearby town in Massachusetts. And for holidays I need more than just the indoors and window display that were good enough for apartment life.

One bit of fall yard decor I really had my heart set on was a scarecrow. But I'd see these lame little scarecrows at the grocery, hardware, and craft stores going for like $12 and somehow looking even cheaper than that. My parents have a scarecrow they've been putting out annually since I was little. That one is adult-sized and wears my dad's old jeans and flannel. He has a hand painted wooden cutout head. Where did that come from? A craft fair?

I hoped I'd run into something sufficient but no luck. The Granite State Fair had a few craft vendors but no scarecrow makers. With September ending I knew I would have to take matters in my own hands. But how?

I started with a blog post from Lowes on making your own scarecrow. That pointed me in the right direction. They recommended using landscaping stakes--like how you mark your driveway for a plow service. And a pillowcase for a head. That's very classic Oz type styling. I started thinking more about what around my house could be repurposed.

On Saturday, I started the car-ride portion of my errands run with an in-store pickup at Target for unrelated interior decor needs. I forgot that there's a Home Depot next door to the Target so I stopped in to find the garden stakes. I was very disappointed with their stock. All of the garden stakes were damp and gross. Many were warping. The driest set had evidence of a former spider egg sack. And the packs are 12. I don't need 12. I left empty handed.

I went to the Home Depot that's only a mile from my house next. I found the same packs of stakes and they were dry and nice. I had a 12-pack in my hands until I noticed oak fence posts sold as singles. Well, that's even better! They're taller than 3 ft, still have that sharpened end to drive into the ground, and I can buy just one! Sold! I grabbed a 36" baluster for the arms/shoulders and went on my way.

So what about the head? I don't have the painting skills to make a face as good as the scarecrow at my parent's house. We also don't have a jigsaw to make a good pumpkin shape. I decided to go for a foam carveable pumpkin. I can make a face with a knife okay. And I have a few spare lamp cords with nice LED bulbs lying around. I setup an in-store pickup order at a craft store for the foam pumpkin for Sunday morning.

Before leaving the house for Sunday errands, I did an inventory of things around the house I needed for the project. Self-driving wood screws that will penetrate the fencepost and baluster without coming out the opposite end? Check. Pumpkin carving knives? Check. Drill battery in the charger? Check. Lamp cord and bulbs? Check ... but ... Seeing them again up close I realize what I have is for indoor use only. I will need something sealed for use outdoors. And an outdoor extension cord.

The craft store is in the same plaza as a Lowes. Shh! Don't tell Kara and Shawn I went to Lowes! #LowesBlows I stop in for the outdoor lamp and extension cord. The lamp cords all end up being essentially the same as what I already have--rated for indoor use only. So I wander the entire lighting section slowly including their Christmas sections. In the end I choose a single garden path light that gets plugged in, runs a pre-installed LED bulb, and looks like its stake can be removed. And I grab a 40' outdoor extension cord.

Back at home I have a number of regular yard chores to take care of before I can start my scarecrow project. Michael returns home from work the moment I'm watching a YouTube video on how to loosen the drill bit chuck because it was too tight to loosen by hand. MB* uses the drill's motor to tighten/loosen the chuck. #SafetyThird It's nice having him around to help hold some pieces in place while I drive my screws. Soon I have my frame. And I have already cut a post-shaped hole in my pumpkin.

I carve the face next. I go for simple, classic, smiley jack-o'-lantern face. This is a friendly scarecrow.

What will my scarecrow wear? I have a bag of old jeans because I started making a braided rug out of them a few years ago. And used some to make my version of Britney Spears' infamous patchwork denim dress. So initially I thought I would grab an old paint-splattered pair of Michael's jeans that I know are in the bag. But I find my favorite jeans from 8th grade first. The knees tore open naturally with years of wear. The legs are flared and frayed. They are also paint-splattered. I have my jeans.

For the shirt I was less-sure. Since we just moved, we donated and trashed a lot of old clothing. I don't think we'll have a flannel to gift to the scarecrow. But as I think about my older clothing I recall a long sleeved tee from Yellow Jackets weekend. Basically every year I was at UR I missed out on the free shirts for Yellow Jackets weekend or was so late I got XXL. Only one year did I get an appropriately-sized shirt. And I still have it! AND I now live in a town called Rochester which is not the one in New York. Will my neighbors even notice?

For the the gloves, I knew what I 'd use right away. We have too many pairs of gloves from the now defunct Rat Snake race. Perfect for the scarecrow.

So now I need hay! We don't have a bunny anymore. And I threw out the old stale hat when we moved. Does tractor supply have a straw bale in stock? No. Does Home Depot? Yes. Back to Home Depot!

Once I'm back with my bale, I'm ready to dress, mount, and stuff my scarecrow. I'm thinking everything is set and has gone well. Until I start threading the outdoor extension cord around from the side of the house to the front. I am a few feet short. Back to Home Depot? I send Michael this time because he was headed to the grocery store anyways.

The new extension cord was long enough to run from the side door outlet to the front of the house. I was able to light the jack-o'-lantern face and plopped the remaining hay on the front stoop.

I'm very excited about my silly, homemade scarecrow. It's way better than the sad cheap ones at the store. Spooky season is in full effect! Maybe next year I will finally have the 12 ft skeleton of my dreams to join the scarecrow.

[desire-mona]

mo I have this beloved 10 year old Sony dvd player that does not hold a charge whatsoever but runs so very well and has been by my side for so long. you and it are very similar in my head. you’re like when computers still had the cd thingy. I say this with all the love and fondness in my heart. ok bye🐕

cries and cries and cries and cries. thank u that is so kind. id like to give off a dvd title screen energy but im not exactly sure how to go about doing that. ive been reading my staff stuff for the past like 45 minutes and god im so bored its all important but MAN i kinda just wanna lay down. theres this dog at work named ellie that i only saw when i came in for my interview but when i saw her i thought of u

[weezerlvr228]

flippin boobahs!

[solarpunkani]

I think its hilarious how neutral-to-unpleasant Mom finds my desire to dive into punk aesthetics

Like hey man sorry but *you’re* the one who bought me a spiked vest in 7th grade, *you* got this wheel rolling.

[makkie-is-screaming]

About 1 year since my ed relapse

[ladyofmelk]

speaking of novel adaptations, give the french-italian notre dame de paris musical a shot!! its been one of my favs for years

[jamiethebee]

I know older sibling love to shit on their younger siblings.... But is it really so spoiled to just once, to want to have something first and not a hand me down?

[whoopsyeahokay]

October Sun

summary: you and Wally had finally had a chance to talk, reviewed the information at your disposal, which, by then, had included the text you'd received from Xavier. Even with everything you'd been taught, had researched, had a profound knowledge of, things still hadn't made sense. Had Mr. Anderson really been the Big Bad of your Nancy Drew story? Or had something darker been afoot?

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: eventual smutty smut smut. and mad spoilers. and obvious Canon divergence. very involved, very dense plot.

bon reading, frens

___________________________💀

OCTOBER SUN pt.13

"—and then this morning, Zav texted—"

"Who?"

"Xavier? Maddie's boyfriend?"

Recognition dawned, "Oh, yeah. I know him," spoken with a sour inflection.

"Yeah, him. He's like my brother from another mother." One who'd flounced out of Xavier's life in 8th Grade and had taken half the family assets with her to Milwaukee.

"Anyway," You resumed your summary of events, "He sent me this." Leaning forward, you showed Wally the picture of Maddie's ticket on your phone. "They found it in the woods not too far from here."

After yesterday's series of unfortunate interruptions, you and Wally had ensconced yourselves halfway up the rows of spectator seats in the stadium. Apart from a groundskeeper on the field and a maintenance worker floating about the upmost level of the grandstand, you were blissfully alone.

You sat sideways, Wally's varsity jacket balled up and shoved behind your back so the armrest wouldn't dig into your spine (his idea). Your knees were bent over the armrest that divided your seat and Wally's, socked feet on his lap, lounging as comfortably as was possible in your position.

Wally, meanwhile, held your ankle, thumb occasionally stroking under the hem of your jeans, and had his legs splayed wide to accommodate their length in such a tight space. Arm stretched across the backs of your seats, fingers of his other hand absentmindedly lifting and placing strands of your hair at the back of your head.

It was nice. Casual.

You and Wally were totally and utterly attuned as if sharing space was a regular occurrence. As if he'd always been part of your story, alongside Xavier and Hana and Lucas, trading easy touches and unfiltered thoughts the way people did when they'd known each other since baby teeth.

It was the connection, of course. A tequila glow under the skin that removed the awkwardness of getting to know someone new and replaced it with the opinion that everyone was ohana.

Once again, you'd spent the night with your nose in the gutter of every book you'd thought could be relevant, and not one had had the insinuation of an answer. If you'd been allowed to ask Nanna, you knew she'd say something ridiculous about soulmates, or twin flames or some other buzzword for 'meant to be'.

She was a diehard romantic like that, despite having suffered the loss of Grandpa Jack mere days after your uncle Andrew was born. She'd never remarried. Never dated. Was content to wait until her body expired and she reunited with Grandpa Jack in the afterlife.

It wasn't fair that Nanna couldn't Travel. That she couldn't see ghosts like you and your mother and Ginny. That the family rule prevented you from speaking to Grandpa Jack so you could relay his messages to Nanna.

In the absence of the swarms and storms and squalls you'd been threatened with if you ever spoke to the dead, you were beginning to hate that rule.

Wally pinched the top knot of your spine, lips swept into a roguish grin. "Lost you for a second there, pretty girl."

Deep brown eyes roamed your face for signs of where your mind had drifted. Having Wally's full attention made your heart beat a little faster, your stomach squirm, your breath catch. It brought with it a sense of empowerment; Wally, former star athlete and school hero, looking at you like you'd hung the moon.

"Uhm~." Eloquent.

Wally chuckled, breezy, and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. "I feel it, too." He admitted, catching his lip between straight, white teeth and glancing away with a blush. "It's not as crazy as it was yesterday, though."

"True." You said, "But it's still pretty intense. It's like taking one shot. You aren't quite tipsy, you're just vibing and it's—"

"Nice." Wally cut in, sloping a few inches forward.

Heat rose in your cheeks and you knew your eyes had gone honey-soft and dreamy under Wally's gaze. "Yeah. It is."

You gave yourself a moment to take in the feeling—sit with it, and accept it—before you decided it was time to get back to business.

"Alright," Wally crooked his arm at the elbow and propped his head on his fist, "Things we know so far: Mr. Anderson paid Maddie off."

"Check."

"But he's paranoid, so he decides to tie up loose ends and remove Maddie from the equation."

"Check."

"He lures her to the boiler room, attacks her, manages to hurt her enough to get blood on the walls, and then..." Wally's voice and expression turned dubious, "Maddie runs?"

You quickly picked up where Wally left off, "She heads through the woods where she drops her ticket, and then she makes it to the service road."

"Where Mr. A finds her—"

"Drugs her into a coma." You and Wally said together before he continued alone.

"—and then he brings her back here?"

You tried not to sound too hopeful when you asked, "How do you know he brought her back here? Did Maddie tell you?"

Wally had mentioned that Maddie couldn't remember anything about what had happened to her last Friday, but if she'd started to get her memory back, maybe this whole thing would be wrapped up before the weekend. Simon would have his best friend back, Xavier wouldn't be looked at like the school pariah anymore, and you and Wally could...

Focus on each other? Mathilda's face smirked at you in your mind.

Or something, You snapped back as you pictured yourself using a chalkboard eraser to erase Mathilda's image from the inside of your skull.

"Nah, babe," Wally said, "She still can't remember anything. At least, not that she's told me. But it doesn't matter because she's haunting the school, right?"

You peered at Wally who looked so eager to be helpful, and tried to fit the puzzle pieces together. Unfortunately, the pieces you had were turning into blobs of color without a picture for reference.

"Well, I mean, it could mean something," You supposed, willing to approach the theory from a new angle. "But she also could've followed him back here without realizing she wasn't in her body."

Wally's hand slipped up from your ankle to your calf where he began to massage the muscle, almost sympathetically. Like he was about to say something offensive and wanted you to be calm when you received it.

With mild suspicion, you listened to what he had to say, though by the end, you couldn't conceal your shock.

"I don't know what you read about ghosts, baby, but we can't move around like that. We haunt where we die. If Maddie's ghost is in the school, it's because that's where she left her body."

Internally, the blue screen of death crashed down as a bullhorn shrieked fatal system error.

Wrong Wrong Wrong.

Grandpa Jack had died in New York and you'd seen him plenty of times in Wisconsin. Hell, you'd seen American ghosts in the UK when you'd visited your dad. American ghosts who'd died on American soil. The books in your family's library verified that ghosts were at liberty to go wherever they pleased, having earned the right after they were relieved from the 'burden of living' (as one rather staunchly Catholic author had written).

And then you remembered, "You mean more trapped than the rest of us?" Wally had said yesterday.

Jack-knifing into an upright position, you gasped, "You're stuck here?!"

Slowly, as if scared to animate you further, Wally said, "Yeah. Whenever we step off school property, we end up back where we died." He glanced at the field warily. "It sucks."

"Wally," You breathed in and out deeply, heart hammering for a reason that had nothing to do with Wally's closeness, "That's not normal."

💀___________________________

PART TWELVE - PART FOURTEEN

also available on AO3!

MASTERLIST

[jo-harrington]

Become What You Were Meant To Be (Eddie Munson)

Word Count: 2.4k

Themes/Warnings: Modern!Eddie, Older!Eddie, set in the mid-2010s, fandom lingo, nerd lingo, Star Wars, typical childhood bullying, angst, minor FOI reference, some canon divergence, coming of age themes, probably poorly written and not edited at all

Note: Happy Birthday to one of the backbones of this fandom, who supports and encourages so many of us, whose endless friendship I am so grateful for. Someone who has absolute endless creativity but doesn't give herself enough credit and grace, who is secretly sitting in the background pulling the strings on some of the best stories I've read and I've written. My muse, my life, my world, my cheeseburger. @fracturedarkness

Thanks to @dr-aculaaa for the beta.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

---

Eddie Munson was a nerd.

Point blank, end of story.

It was one of those badges he wore along with Freak and loser and...well, you get the gist of it. But it was a badge worn with pride. He owned his identity. Wasn't afraid to show everyone he came across who he was.

It hadn't always been that way.

There used to be a time when it felt like the worst thing in the world to be a nerd like that. The kids bullied him because he got overly excited talking about his favorite characters and favorite books that they found boring. They all teased him when he wrote stories about exciting heroes from fantastical worlds in English class, even though the teacher told him that his stories were ambitious and imaginative. And when he spent lunch doodling in his notebook instead of playing kickball or foursquare? Well, you get the point.

"You're so weird." They mocked him. "You're a freak. Draw normal things. Like normal things. Why can't you just be normal?"

It was cruel, in the way that children naively become perpetrators of cruelness. And it made Eddie sad.

Because what did that mean? He couldn't draw normal things, or like normal things, or do normal things. Then he wouldn't be himself anymore.

And that was the point where he decided normal was overrated. Why would he want to be normal when he could be...anything else.

He could pretend he was one of the Pevensies upon a throne at Cair Paravel. Or one of the Ghostbusters. Or a Jedi...

Of course, he couldn't actually be anything else; he was stuck being boring, old, nerdy Eddie Munson.

It wasn't until middle school--you know, middle school, when everyone decides to embrace who they are and become an individual--that he decided being Eddie Munson wasn't all that bad after all.

This epiphany definitely didn't happen after a Hot Topic opened up at StarCourt Mall. No sir. Not when one of the older kids that worked there, sporting armfuls of tattoos and a lip ring, told him the pen drawings on the toe caps of his sneakers were cool. Of course not. And not after he used the last bit of his birthday money to buy a cool band t-shirt and colored hair gel. Pssshhh...

So on the first day of 8th grade, he showed up rocking his dad's old leather jacket--the one that practically swallowed him--jeans that he ripped himself and a poor excuse for a mohawk, ready to accept the Freak label proudly.

He also accepted detention for breaking the dress code.

And a grounding from Wayne for cutting up a nice pair of jeans.

And a buzzcut because he'd done that poor of a job of cutting his hair for that mohawk.

But he'd gained a friend.

Several friends actually.

Ronnie Ecker and Doug Teague. They were both in the same grade as him, and shared many classes. And it might have been a little embarrassing, but a sixth grader named Jeff who told Eddie that he was his hero. That made Eddie feel like he was on top of the world!

They were friends that stayed with him all through high school, and when he repeated his senior year twice, even more joined the mix along the way.

Band kids and science fair nerds and...and...and...

He called them his sheepies, and he their shepherd clad in black band tees and ripped jeans.

And Eddie?

Eddie just got nerdier.

Got weirder.

Dug himself deeper into the pit of stark individualism that the close-minded town of Hawkins didn't know how to react to.

It was glorious.

He listened to music that made other kids cringe and turn away and neighbors complain about the noise; he liked it so much that he made his friends start a band with him. They played at every single school talent show until they graduated; they never won and sometimes people tried to plug their ears, but to Eddie and his friend, their sound and that stage was exactly what their hearts yearned for. To them, the auditorium might as well have been Madison Square Garden.

He started playing Dungeons and Dragons--started a club of his own design, Hellfire--when he found the guidebooks on a dusty shelf at the library. They were seemingly untouched since their initial publication in the 70s, but they were like a key that unlocked something inside of Eddie. Something that he seemed to have forgotten along the way of reclaiming the name "Freak."

Through DnD, the imaginary worlds that he left behind early in his adolescence opened their doors to him once again.

And his friends, his players, never made fun of him for knowing the ins and outs of the worlds of their fantasies. Worlds like Greyhawk and Faerûn.

Worlds like a certain galaxy far...far away...

---

Eddie's re-entrance into the world of Star Wars had been...an interesting one to say the least.

To Eddie, Star Wars meant the original trilogy. Cut, print, sign the check.

When he thought of Jedi, he thought of Luke Skywalker and Alec Guinness as Obi-Wan and a puppet Yoda. And of course he thought of the dreaded Darth Vader.

Yeah he had his books from the library, a whole extended universe with Mara Jade and Jacen and Jaina. But he'd missed out on the prequels growing up; from being a little too young to see them in theaters, to the whole fiasco of his mother's passing right before Revenge of the Sith had premiered.

As he got older, the need to see them just wasn't there, and hearing from friends and enemies alike that it wasn't anything to write home about was the nail in the coffin.

Until he met one Dustin Henderson.

It was the Jar Jar Binks t-shirt he wore on the first day of his freshman year that got Eddie's attention.

"What is that?" he flicked a finger against the graphic as he ran into Dustin and his friends in the lunch line. "Something from that new Star Trek movie?"

Cue a whole rant about the Gungans and the Separatists and an inter-galactic conflict that made Eddie happily fold Dustin and his band of nerds into the protection of the Hellfire Club.

Eddie still refused to watch the prequels, no matter how much Dustin begged.

"I like it when you guys talk about them," Eddie shrugged off the pleas. "Even better when you guys act out the whole fight between Anakin and Obi-Wan. I'd sell my left nut to relive seeing you and Lucas do that in Wheelers basement; it was the best day of my life Henderson, I swear to god. There's no way the movies could actually beat that."

He hasn’t expected that those little idiots would trick him into a movie marathon for Lucas's birthday.

Even Gareth was in on the whole plan. Traitor.

But it was the beginning of the end.

From the movies to the books to the cartoons, Eddie's love of Star Wars was rekindled. He even spent a short stint as a gamer playing The Old Republic on the old PC that was tucked into the corner of the trailer.

And when a new movie was announced, Eddie happily took his nerd-dom to the next level.

Yes, he was the one to suggest they all dress up for the midnight showing of The Force Awakens, but if anyone asked it was Mike.

He spent hours on a stupid Boba Fett costume. It was a different set of skills to the mini-figures he was used to crafting for DnD. He had to think on a different scale. Hot glue and spray paint and too much cardboard. Only to find real cosplayers used foam, not cardboard. His paychecks from Thatcher Tires went straight to the project, until he had something halfway decent for the premiere.

"What?" he laughed along with his friends when they joked about the hot glue spiderwebs that he'd been too lazy to clean up. "It's not like I'll have to do this again; we're not dressing up next time."

Or so he thought...

There was something so magical about sitting in a movie theater, in the middle of December, at midnight, surrounded by other people who decided to dress up for the occasion, and a few dozen plastic lightsabers all lit up.

To listen to the theme, to read the crawl on a big screen, to see the camera pan down into the vastness of stars...

This was what it was to be a nerd.

There was something extra special about finding a new favorite character. Something that touched something deep down inside of you when you saw something of yourself in them.

And Eddie had always been drawn to the villains. Whether in the media he consumed or the characters he created for DnD. He knew why; he wasn't totally oblivious. To be the hero of his own story, he often had to become a villain to someone else.

Besides, villains always had a little bit more fun.

So when Kylo Ren first made his way on screen, Eddie knew that he was done for.

The mask, the lightsaber, the Dark Side of the Force, the anger...how many times had he almost given in to the anger he felt at being mocked and teased. He'd overcome that time and again; what if he'd just given in?

There was also something about being Al Munson Han Solo's son.

Yeah. He could understand the anger there.

But then he was also Elizabeth Leia's son...the conflict.

It took Eddie a few days to get over the initial flurry of thoughts after seeing Force Awakens for the first time. That was when he realized he needed to see it again. And again. A matinee showing on Christmas Eve with Wayne, who he also treated to lunch. The last showing on a Thursday in January. Another outing with the guys, refusing to admit that he'd already seen it a few times between opening night and then.

Thankfully, this time, Mike was the mastermind behind their plans for the next movie as they waited for the previews to finish.

"So," Mike sat up straight. "I think I wanna get an early dibs on dressing up like Poe when Episode 8 comes out."

"I think I wanna try my hand at making an Admiral Ackbar costume," Dustin said with utter confidence, and then turned to Eddie. "What about you?"

It caught Eddie off-guard for a second; should he just say Kylo? Did they expect him to want to dress up as anyone else? Maybe they thought that he would want to be Poe, leader of their misfit group as he was.

"Eddie's obviously Kylo," Jeff piped up. Eddie's head immediately turned to him. "What? Don't think we didn't watch you drool over that lightsaber last time."

"And his ship?" Gareth cackled one seat over. "Fuck the Falcon. I swear, if you could turn the van into something that looked like that ship..."

"Oh my god, you're right!" Lucas cackled.

"Hey I think I could figure out a pretty convincing Snoke," Eddie argued, trying to deflect their teasing, but secretly pleased that he'd gotten exactly what he wanted.

And that his friends knew him so well.

---

For two years, Eddie worked on his costume.

Two. Years.

He was practically a different person by the time of the Last Jedi's opening night.

And yeah his motivation faltered, but he never quit.

It was strange, the need to perfect the costume. He’d almost given up many times. When there was a certain skill he wasn't good at or when he'd felt like it would never be finished. Every time, he felt like that silly kid who everyone just told to be normal. To like normal things.

He was growing up. He was a grown up! Shouldn’t he be passed all of this…silliness? Everyone else in the world seemed to think so, as they put away all the frivolities of childhood. Were they working round the clock and pricking their fingers on needles and burning themselves with hot glue?

Probably not.

Eddie found himself still stuck there, watching a world lose its joy and think that it was normal, and he always wondered if he should try to be normal too. For once in his life. The first time in his life.

But every time he thought about letting it all go, about putting his dream aside...something would come and drive him to keep going.

New promotional images, a new trailer. Especially the ones focused on Kylo himself.

"Let the past die," Kylo Ren grumbled in the voice over. "Kill it if you have to."

That became Eddie's driving force.

He owed it to himself to finish. He owed it to his younger self...not to let his dream die...to keep being weird and nerdy and happy.

"Let the past die," Eddie told himself as he stitched the hem of the tunic the week before opening night.

"Kill it if you have to," he said as he distressed the plastic helmet that he'd ordered, giving it the right amount of realism so it didn't just look like something so fake and commercial.

"Let the past die," his child self muttered, front teeth missing from the day Johnny B pushed him over on the playground because he was playing superheroes wrong. Eddie put a hand on his head and then stepped into his boots.

"Kill it if you have to," his preteen self urged him, self-assured, mohawk looking stupider than he realized way back when. Eddie flicked his ear good-naturedly before adjusting the cape on his shoulders.

There he stood--Eddie Munson, the young man, the freak, the nerd--in his bedroom before the mirror. He was adorned in pieces of foam and layers of fabric from the craft store, helmet tucked under his arm.

But in the mirror itself? There was Kylo Ren...there he was as Kylo Ren. In the hallway of a Star Destroyer, layered in armor and the shadows of the Dark Side itself, like he was ready for a battle with the Resistance.

Ready for the battle within himself.

But there was no battle, and the armor was actually Eddie's skin. This was his real self, his true self. All of his work came to fruition, all of the time and effort that he put into the craft. Not just two years working on a costume, but an entire lifetime poured into becoming an Eddie Munson who proudly wore the title nerd and freak and loser.

The destroyer melted away, and he was back in his bedroom once again. Surrounded by posters and books and drawings, by all of his crafts and his guitars and his endless clutter.

He smiled at himself, feeling lighter than he had in a long time.

Eddie Munson was a nerd, and as he lit the lightsaber and he was washed in a glow of crackling red light, he knew that this was who he was always meant to be.

[daftdrac]

X-Men Evolution is cool and all (VERY cool I love evolution) but I want an x men au where they're ALL kids. Young (er) Charles Xavier (like in his 20s - early 30s cause I will never be able to imagine child Charles) trying to manage his own powers while also being essentially a single father to Uncontrollable Laser Beams Kid, Actual Just Feral Animal Kid, Kid Who Keeps Accidentally Telekinetically Trashing Her Room When She Gets Overwhelmed By Other Peoples Thoughts, Kid Who Keeps Falling Through The Floor When She's Frightened, Fuzzy Catholic Demon Kid, Explosions Kid, Kid With Multiple Personality Disorder As Their Entire Power, Other Explosions Kid, Kid Who Keeps Flooding The Fucking Mansion Because He Forgets How Ice Works Even Though Its His Entire Power, and Kid Who Keeps Accidentally Making It Rain In The House When She's Upset.

In this scenario all of them are 8th-10th grade I imagine. (Anyone I don't mention i either don't know or don't like 😭)

8th: Bobby, Jubilee, honestly probably just them

9th: Kurt, Kitty, Rogue, Tabitha

10th: Jean, Scott, maybe Logan

And special 11th grade for mostly just Logan and Storm because they will always feel older than everyone else. They're always the elders

In this situation Logan either wouldn't have ever been 'Weapon X' yet, or he was made into Weapon X as a child (at, like, Laura/X-23's age) and saved by Charles. He would be regular highschool age, so like 16/17. Not 200 something ❤️‍🩹

I imagine everyone would have less of a grasp on their powers than in Evolution. Including Charles. Everyone is just a little more clueless about mutants in general. Maybe make it modern too cause ❤️‍🩹 I can't write early 2000s for shit ❤️‍🩹

[hearts4golbach]

The Night Shift.

Johnnie Guilbert x Fem!Reader.

Chapter 30.

the day before the concert, tara and i spent hours putting together our perfect Falling in Reverse concert outfits. with the two of our closets combined, and with the help of Jake and Johnnies too, but they don't need to know that, we were finally content with what we were going in. clothes were scattered everywhere, but we'd worry about that later.

Tara decided on a mini skirt with 3 different belts that we had found in jakes closet, which she had stacked strategically. she took one of my blinged up hot pink crop tops that i hadn't worn since 8th grade and had that as her top. she threw a fur coat over the top of everything. she threw on her chunky black boots with spikes and a cute pair of leg warmers on to finish the look. she had been planning on the makeup she was going to do for months, but all it was was her usual makeup with pink eyeshadow and eyeliner stars on her cheek.

i ended up wearing [outfit of your choice] and paired it with [makeup of your choice].

johnnies outfit was jaw-dropping. he chose his black lace button up and obviously wore it halfway unbuttoned. he layered about 10 different necklaces and rings. he also decided on wearing a new pair of dark red skinny jeans with his usual black boots. he tied it all together with his leather jacket. for johnnies makeup, he smudged red lipstick under his eyes and streaked black eyeliner down his face.

jakes outfit was just as cunty as the rest of us; he wore a cropped black tank top paired with his favorite pair of flared jeans. he also chose his belt with bullets on it. he decided on not even bringing a jacket with his reason being "he has tattoos for a reason." he also wore platform shoes and an arrangement of bracelets, some i had never seen before. jake decided to wear no makeup to the concert.

tara slept over so it'd be easier for all of us to take the 4 hour drive early in the morning. we had decided to rent a hotel so we could all get fucked up during the concert and not have to worry about driving home when we could just call an uber. all of us were restless that night, but forced ourselves to sleep so we were really ready for the concert.

i woke up the next morning wrapped in johnnies arms, per usual. the alarm was reverberating in my ears as Johnnie was also starting to stir awake. he opened his eyes and squinted them to look at me, a small smile forming on his face. "mornin'." his groggy sleep voice greeted.

"good morning. you excited?" i asked, sitting up and rubbing my eyes. i climbed out of the bed and stretched, making a million different bones in my body crack at once. "we gotta hurry up and take our showers since everyone else needs to, too."

Johnnies eyes scanned over my body. he sighed and propped himself up on his elbow. "do you want to just take a shower together? it'd save time." he smirked, gently squeezing my hand before he began fidgeting with my fingers.

"i like that idea." i placed a gentle kiss on his lips before dragging him out of bed into the bathroom.

i started the shower, making sure it was nice and warm as Johnnie got undressed. i wasn't far behind him, getting undressed myself before stepping into the shower with him. the warm water on my back woke me up as much as it was relaxing. i watched as the water trickled down Johnnies body and seeped into his inked skin. he ran his moist hands down my body and grabbed the body wash. he squirted some into his hands and began to wash my body. he had nothing but admiration in his eyes as they trailed over every part of me. he made sure no part of me was unwashed before going to wash himself. i did the same for him, helping him wash every inch of his pale skin. he shampooed and conditioned my hair, and while i wash washing mine out, he cleaned his own. he kissed me softly, but passionately before turning off the shower and climbing out. he wrapped me up in a soft towel, as well as himself.

we made our way back to our bedroom to pack our 1 day trip bags quickly. i stole johnnies pair of chunky pajama pants to wear on the drive, as well as my Lana Del Rey tee that was beaten up and bruised from all of the use. i packed all of my makeup and my concert outfit. i didn't bother packing an outfit for the second day there since we were leaving and heading home as soon as we got checked out of the hotel. Johnnie packed pretty much the same thing as i did, the only difference being he did pack an outfit for the second day. he threw on a pair of black skinny jeans and a My Chemical Romance tee shirt to wear on the drive there.

there was a small knock on the door before tara's bright voice called out, "you guys up?" we both answered yeah at the same time. she opened the door and greeted me with a hug. "morning!" she greeted excitedly.

i hugged her back tight. "morning, Tar." i heard the shower start from down the hall. "damn, is Jake just now getting in?"

"yeah, it took me, like, 20 minutes to actually get him out of bed. he snoozed his alarm 3 times before i had to go in there and drag him out of bed myself." she sighed, sitting on the bed next to me.

Johnnie shut down his PC so it wasn't wasting electricity while we were away. "well, that's Jake for you."

tara rolled her eyes. "yeah, well, he needs his beauty sleep, anyway."

"did you get your bag fully packed?" i asked, tossing my bag over my shoulder.

"duh, i got everything ready." she smiled.

the three of us moved down to the living room, bringing our bags and everything else we needed with us. Johnnie sprawled himself out over the couch. i made my way into the kitchen and grabbed a bunch of water bottle and a few snacks for the road, putting them in one of my goat bags and setting it with the rest of our shit. Jake ended up joining me in the kitchen with a towel wrapped around his waist.

"okay, slut." i mumbled under my breath jokingly. i walked back out of the kitchen to join Johnnie on the couch.

"i know you are not talk to me, skank." he snapped his fingers and grabbed his zyns and decaf coffee off of the counter. he threw that shit in the microwave like it was nobody's business. he leaned against the counter and went on his phone.

i rolled my eyes, "is your bag even packed?"

"no," he answered nonchalantly before taking a selfie. i realized later on that he had posted it on his instagram story.

"that's wild that you're worried about your coffee right now, then." i laughed, "what if we're late to see Ronnie?" i over exaggerated.

he pursed his lips, "well, Ronnie can wait for my coffee." he smiled, taking a sip before heading up to his room.

tara had hopped in the shower immediately after jake did. she always took extremely long showers, but she made it quick today.

Jake made his way back downstairs with tara by his side less than 10 minutes later. with all of our bags and shit we needed on hand, we headed out the door.

Johnnie and I climbed into the back seat while jake and tara took the front. tara had music privileges for the first hour of the drive. her music taste was definitely different from mine, but I didn't mind it.

I leaned my head against johnnies shoulder and stared out of the front windshield, watching as all of the buildings and cars sped past. he wrapped his arm around my waist, his hand resting on my hip as he went on his phone to scroll through tiktok. my eyes flickered to his phone, watching as he reposted silly edits of himself, and of me and him, that fans had created.

Jake and tara had begun bickering about her lip smacking that annoyed jake ever so much. I felt johnnies shoulders jiggle, signaling that he was laughing. I quietly laughed along, aswell. they fought like a married couple, sometimes.

I could feel myself becoming drowsy as the car lulled me to sleep. my eyelids felt like bricks. it was way too early in the morning for this, especially when I was in and out of sleep all of last night. I gave in, letting my eyes fall shut as I slowly fell asleep on johnnies shoulder.

I woke up about an hour and a half later. johnnie was now watching Netflix on his phone. tara was passed out in the front seat, and jake was next to her, gently bobbing his head to the slower song playing on the radio. johnnie had felt me stir awake and began to rub my hip gently.

johnnie cleared his throat, "was that a good nap?" he teased.

I stretched my back before placing my head back on his shoulder. "Actually, yeah. your shoulder is a great pillow." I placed a kiss on his cheek, nuzzling my head further into his neck. "we should stop and get breakfast somewhere."

"I second that." jake stuck up one finger before rubbing his tummy. "I could eat a horse pussy right now."

his weird comment made tara finally open her eyes, as she had been stirring for a while. "what a great sentence to wake up to, jake."

he patted her knee, "sorry, sweetie."

we pulled into the closest McDonald's and bought breakfast. jake ate with one hand as he continued to drive, nearly fisting the breakfast sandwiches he had gotten. Jake and I both got coffees and the same breakfast sandwiches, a mcgrittle. we were practically twins at that point. I smiled at johnnie as he happily munched on his breakfast next to me. he smiled back.

by the time we were all done with our breakfast, we were about an hour out from the hotel. jake and tara switched seats since she offered to drive the rest of the way.

the rest of the drive was silent except for the soft music on the radio. I could tell we were all pretty tired from the long drive, and we'd all probably need a nap whenever we got to the hotel. to be fair, the coffee did wake up me and jake, though. honestly, nothing slaps like a good McDonald's coffee with extra creamer this early in the morning.

we had finally made it even earlier than we expected. I climbed out of the car and stretched, cracking my back before grabbing my things out of the car. Jake got the key card for the hotel while we unpacked the car, although there wasn't much to unpack. we brought all of our bags inside and made out way up to the hotel room.

the room was extremely nice. there were two beds, a large window with a beautiful overview of the city, and the usual hotel room accommodations.

I threw myself onto the bed I was claiming for Johnnie and i. I watched as jake filled the mini fridge with water bottles. we all took our concert outfits out of our bags so they wouldn't get wrinkled from staying cramped up for too much longer.

Jake and I ordered lunch from the hotel, although it was a pretty late lunch. the three of us started on our makeup, which influenced jake to actually do his own. he ended up smudging eyeliner in his waterline before calling it a day.

none of us changed into our outfits. we all sat on our respective beds and ate our lunch-dinner while watching some random ghost hunting show on the channel that was already on whenever I had turned on the TV.

before taking another bite, I spoke up. "are we going to leave as soon as we're ready so we don't have to wait in a long ass line to get inside?"

Jake gulped down what he was chewing. "That's what I was thinking, yeah." Tara and Johnnie agreed with him. 

after finishing our food 10 minutes later, we all got changed. I smoothed out my outfit in the mirror.

Johnnie came up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist. "you look great, baby." he smiled, planting a kiss on my cheek.

"thank you," I turned around, hooking my arms behind his neck and kissing his lips softly.

Tara's chunky shoes clumped down the hallway as we made our way to the elevator. "over here sounding like a fucking elephant, damn." jake teased her, gently shoving her shoulder.

she shoved him back harder. "shut up, they're cute!"

Johnnie gripped my hand, interlocking his fingers with mine. I scanned his whole body, admiring how good he looked in his outfit. fuck, he looked hot. I smirked slightly before turning away. a blush was painted across his face as he smiled.

Jake called the Uber as we waited out front of the hotel.

"why did you just now call it? why couldn't you have called the Uber when we were getting ready, it would've been here by now." I scolded, not actually caring, just wanting to complain and annoy jake.

"because I didn't know how long it'd take you ladies to get ready. don't act like I haven't heard the conspiracy theories about girls taking forever to get ready."

"conspiracy theories?" I repeated, "conspiracy theories is wild."

"well, they seem to be true." he crossed his arms, popping his hip out to the side.

"like you don't take 2 hours in the bathroom every morning playing with your hair." I retorted, looking around to see if the Uber was close.

"okay, well, that's different." he rolled his eyes.

"mhm, right."

the Uber arrived eventually. we all piled in the back, pretty much sitting on top of eachother. we were all buzzing with excitement, and we weren't even buzzed yet.

"I think my first goal when we get there is to get a drink," I admitted with a sly smile plastered across my face.

"I second that." Tara was fixing her makeup in her phone camera.

"me too." jake and Johnnie responded in the same tone at the same time.

the 20 minute drive to the stadium felt like a 20 year drive, but I knew that was just the excitement and eagerness getting to me.

whenever we arrived, it took us 30 minutes to get inside, which was much better than it could've been.

we wandered around the stadium, looking for a good bar that had been set up. we ran into 3 before finding one with a good menu compared to the other ones.

we hurriedly ordered our drinks and made our way to our 'seats,' although none of us would be sitting during the actual concert.

we were an hour and a half early, or at least an hour and a half early for the openers. I had high hopes for the concert, I mean, it was a rock, emo, whatever you wanna call it, concert after all.

I sat back in my seat, propping my feet up as I sipped on my drink. to say it was strong would be an understatement, even though I was far from a lightweight.

"wanna try a sip of mine?" johnnie offered, handing me his clear plastic cup.

I gratefully accepted, handing him mine in return. I hummed at the taste of his, "I think I like yours more."

"honestly, me too." he laughed. we ended up trading drinks.

tara took a video of the four of us. "holy shit, falling in reverse!" she screamed over the hundreds of other people in the stadium that were most likely saying the same shit. she ended up posting it on her story.

the openers came on with a bang. smoke covered the stage before a much smaller artist, I wasn't sure of the name, strutted onto the stage.

the crowd cheered, but not as loud as I knew it'd be whenever Ronnie came on.

the small band played 6 different songs, and they were all surprisingly good. they were more of a nu metal band compared to Falling in Reverse. I mean, I wasn't complaining.

the four of us spent majority of that time taking pictures for our Instagrams. I mean, obviously. what else would you expect?

Jake and I were on drink duty. we sped back to the pop up stand and ordered everyone the same drinks they had had before, except me and johnnies were flipped.

we made it back just in time for the openers last song. it was a bug finale, to say the least. the LED screen behind them flashed before everything went dark. the crowd roared with excitement.

we were left in the dark suspensully. i was practically shaking with excitement as i heard the low murmurs of the crowd. the LED screen turned to a dark red moments later.

finally, Ronnie walked out onto the stage with the rest of the band members following. everyone cheered and shouted as they came out on stage. johnnie and jake seemed over the moon with excitement. but, so were me and tara.

Ronnie greeted the crowd, earning a screaming mess of greetings back. he laughed before getting into the very first song.

of course, he had to open with one of his most popular songs, 'The Drug in Me is You.' I knew this song like the back of my hand, just like every other song by him.

I gripped johnnies hands, shaking him as I screamed the lyrics in his face. I was as dramatic as I could possibly get, and he returned the same energy.

Johnnie took out his phone and recorded a snippet of the first song before flipping the camera to us and pulling me in, kissing me on the lips before ending the recording. I knew his fans would eat that shit up whenever he posted it.

we went just as hard for the next few songs before another one of my favorites came on, 'Get Me Out.' I practically screeched whenever I heard the first few words of the song.

to say everyone's hair was a mess at this point in the concert would be an understatement. Me, Johnnie, jake, and tara were sweaty and dirty, but that didn't stop us in any way.

Johnnie gripped my waist tightly as we screamed the lyrics out into the crowd and towards eachother, our energy never fading.

there was a short intermission, which gave me and jake just enough time to run and grab more drinks. to be fair, all of us were pretty drunk at this point in the concert, but who was there to tell us no?

we scrambled back to our seats as we heard the drum rhythm for 'I'm not a Vampire' begin.

I could see johnnie singing the lyrics as he watched the performance on stage. since we were still a bit of a walk away, I took a picture. seeing him in the stadium lighting was heavenly, and he seemed so into the music, it just made for the perfect picture of him. I planned to set it as my lock screen as soon as we got back to the hotel.

there was not much different about the last few songs, except for the fact that I was exhausted and out of breath. I had a feeling I wouldn't have a voice in the morning, either.

as the last chord of the song rang throughout the stadium, Johnnie gripped my waist and kissed me passionately. I reciprocated, kissing him back with the same intensity. he pulled away, his eyes sparkling. "I love you."

my lower lip quivered as I couldn't help but smile. "I love you, too."

[banana-milk907]

DEAD BOY DETECTIVES HEADCANNONS

Edwin and Niko clicked immediately because they’re both autistic (they’re besties). No, I will not be taking criticism.

One of Edwin’s special interests is detectives/ detective work. That’s partly why he decided to become a detective with Charles.

Niko has a special interest in trinkets. She cannot stop herself from collecting them. I believe this would result in quite the large stuffed animal collection. Other special interests she has include animation and manga.

Charles has ADHD. His ADHD makes it hard for him to remember stuff Edwin has told him, so he repeats the parts he remembers, and Edwin will happily fill in the rest.

Crystal is 100% bisexual. I feel like she would’ve had girlfriends in 5-7th grade, and then she decided to take a break in 8th grade. Then, she would get a boyfriend in 9th grade.

Edwin LOVES learning new information. He definitely spends his free time in libraries, classes, and other places he can learn from.

Niko has a specific ringtone for every one of her contacts. Choosing them is one of her favorite activities to do after hanging out with them for the first time.

Charles would LOVE audiobooks. I feel like he has trouble reading because of his ADHD, but hearing them is different. Alternatively, he would love having Edwin reading to him. Edwin would happily read to Charles, and would only stop to add context when needed or to congratulate Charles if he made a good observation. I feel like Charles would commentate while Edwin is reading, and occasionally have actual insight into the book.

Crystal DEFINITELY paints her own clothes. As a result, she owns many bleached shirts, jackets, and jeans. Kind of similarly, I feel like she would occasionally dye her own hair.

Edwin’s parents wanted him to be an athlete, but he would run away during practices to read detective comics.

Niko was afraid to dye her hair before the sprites made it white because she didn’t want to damage it, but she definitely dyes the tips pink (maybe Crystal dyes it for her?)

Charles makes mixtapes for people he cares about (specifically Crystal and Edwin) but they can’t/ don’t know how to play them. They appreciate the gesture though, and I feel like Crystal would make a Spotify version of the mixtape.

Crystal is 100% an only child. Her first experience with having a sibling experience was Edwin (it’s found family, your honor)

Feel free to add on to this! These are all kind of quick thoughts that have been running through my head.

[bettyfrommars]

Ring of Fire

a biker Steve au

Part 1 || I went down, and the flames went higher

18+ONLY || afab!Reader, eventual smut, alcohol consumption, allusions to dirty deeds, smoking, allusions to sex with someone other than reader (not cheating), allusions to violence/fighting, bloody knuckles, eventual breaking & entering, biker!Eddie, biker!Hopper, reader and Steve are in their early 30's. Please read warning for each part.

masterlist playlist

Summary || You haven't set eyes on Steve Harrington since the 8th grade, but you have no problem recognizing him almost 20 years later when he steps back into your life. A lot has changed in Hawkeye, the town you grew up in, but a lot has stayed the same.

word count: 5k

A/N || This is my version of Hawkins, a town called Hawkeye, and it is a desert town surrounded by tumbleweeds, agriculture, and junkyards. Even though Steve is a biker and a mechanic, I try to maintain his "essence". I plan for this to be a shorter series, like 3 or 4 parts, but those are always famous last words from this lyin', cheatin' mouth. This is a niche fic, and for the ten people who will appreciate it, I love you.

The bell on the door dinged to let you know you had a customer, but you didn’t look up right away, you were too busy trying to figure out why your till was a few bucks short for the day.  Donna would not be happy.  Heavy foot falls made it to the counter and then the person in question cleared his throat.

“Ten on pump 2 and a pack of reds, please,” the voice was deep and scratchy, like he was recovering from a sore throat.

You closed the cash register and glanced up for the first time.

The sight made you inhale a sharp breath and hold it.  The man had on a thick motorcycle jacket zipped up halfway over a white tee, atop blue jeans that were a dark denim wash, faded over time, with a tattered hole in one knee.  There were tattoos scattered over his flesh, peeking from his collar, and down his hands.  Letters on his knuckles spelled something that you couldn't quite make out, and he had a luscious mop of maple syrup hair on his head that looked like it had once been gelled into place but lost the fight hours ago.  He raked a big hand through it slowly, pausing halfway through the movement, and tucked his chin to pin you with an anticipatory stare. 

The last person you every expected to see again was Steve Harrington.

He pushed his wayfarer sunglasses up to reveal hazel eyes that were just as sad as they were electric. Swiping the tip of his tongue over his top lip, he repeated himself.  “Pump 2?”

You gave a flustered wave of your hand.  “Yes, of course,” turning to pull a soft pack from the wall behind you.  “Matches?”

He shook his head, and then, “just a sec,” before sauntering over to the aisle on the other side of the potato chips.  

Tossing a back of Magnum condoms on the counter next to his smokes, he dug his wallet out of his back pocket and said a polite, “those too, please.” The wallet was as worn as his jeans and connected by a chain to one of his belt loops.  

The cash register made loud click-clack noises as you punched in the numbers and gave him the total.  You weren’t expecting to see the wad of bills that fanned, but then he handed you what you needed.

“You new here?” He asked as you passed him his change, rolling a piece of bright green gum from the inside of his cheek to start chewing it again.

You stumbled over the question.  “New to this store or Hawkeye?”

A smirk lifted up one side of his mouth.  “Both, I guess?”

He was well aware that you were new to the corner gas n’ sip because he’d been a regular customer for years, and he definitely would have remembered you. 

Definitely.

Yet, something about you felt very familiar. 

“I grew up here,” your delivery was dry.  

Steve tilted his head back to assess you down the bridge of his nose and frowned like he didn’t believe you.  You noticed that his hands were rough and stained with evidence that he did some vocation of hard labor for a living.   

You decided to humor him with a clue.  “I left Hawkeye right before my freshman year.  My hair was different back then, and my mom drove a big, white Buick LeSabre—-”

With an unblinking stare, he blurted your name, repeating it a few times in disbelief as the memory seized him. 

There you were, the one who’d haunted his middle school dreams.  The first notable crush he ever had, standing a few feet in front of him 

“Shitttt,” he continued, scooping his purchases up in one hand, huffing out a breath.  He searched your face, and you watched the light in his eyes intensify. “You were a year older than me, right?  I remember you were always so bossy on the playground.”

You sealed your lips over a chuckle.  “Well, someone had to keep you and Eddie from dismantling the playground equipment to sell to the salvage yard.”

Steve chomped down on his lip in a smile, his hip finding the edge of the counter, trying to get closer to you.  “Copper,” he corrected with a one-eyed squint.  “We wanted to dismantle the lampposts.  Copper wiring could earn a pretty penny back then.”

“You’re still good with your hands I see,” gesturing to his calloused digits, the moons of his cuticles stained from motor oil, knuckles slashed with white scarring.

He flexed his right hand into a fist and then opened it again, deliberate and slow, watching you as he did so.  “I do all right.”

He was leaning over the counter at that point, elbow resting next to the cash register,  hip jutting out behind him, holding his mouth as if he were about to say something—-

“...and then, do you know what Ned said to me? Nothing, that’s what. Three days and I barely get two words out of him.  Before you go, there are two crates that need to be put away in the back—-”

56 year old Donna, your boss, approached the front desk from the back room, buzzing with conversation.  She stopped short when she saw Steve there, and tucked some silver, permed hair behind her ear.  

“Oh, hey Steven,” she greeted.  

“Donna,” he gave a twitch of a smile, standing to full height again, slipping his wallet into his back pocket.  “I was just catching up with an old friend.”

Donna had on bright pink lipstick and heart-shaped, baby blue clip-on earrings.  “You know Steve?”

“You could say that,” you stared at him as you said it.  “I’ve tried to put it behind me.“

Steve ran his tongue over the ridge of his teeth at that, and you could see that the left incisor was gold.  

Donna crowded in behind you, trying to get to the styrofoam container with her food inside that was on a stool just below the rack of caffeine pills.  It was leftover burger and fries from the diner across the street and the smell had been making your mouth water.  

“How’s Eddie?” Donna asked, and it was obvious she was talking to Steve. “Haven’t seen him drop by here in a while.”

Steve pulled his sunglasses out of his nest of hair and slid them back down to his nose before giving you one final look.  You backed up against the cigarette display to watch him go.

“He’s been busy,” Steve gnawed his gum, addressing your boss.  “Business at the garage has picked up since the only other mechanic in town split.  I work there part time when I’m not—” he swallowed back whatever he was initially about to say.  “---when I’m not doing other things.”

Donna shoved the corner of her sesame seed bun burger in her mouth, chewed it and kept talking.  “I saw Robin yesterday.  Her and Ratchet back together?”

In the past few days of your employment, you were learning that Donna was a pillar of gossip in the community, and she wasn’t afraid to ask the tough questions.  

Steve scratched the stubble on his chin, possibly contemplating how much he should share.  “I think they have an understanding,” he chimed diplomatically, stealing another glance in your direction. 

“Say hi to Wayne for me,” Donna added as Steve pushed his way out the mostly glass door.  He waved over his shoulder in response, nodding that he would.  

You shimmied further along behind the counter, pretending to organize the pens, so that you could follow where Steve was going, see what he was driving.  

To your surprise, he pumped gas into a hulking, coal black motorcycle with ape-hanger handlebars and blue ghost flames on the tank.  You were staring with your mouth slightly agape when Donna’s voice broke your concentration.

“Don’t even think about it,” she said, cheek of food again.  “That boy is adorable, but he’s bad news.”

“Why?” The question was out of your mouth before you were cognitively aware of it.   

She thumbed ketchup from the corner of her mouth.  “You ever heard of the Coffin Kings?” 

Your gaze flicked to the side, catching Steve as he kicked a leg over to straddle the bike.  “I don’t think—it doesn’t ring a bell.”

You were lying; of course you’d heard of the Coffin Kings.  How could you forget the horde of long-haired bikers who cruised through town when you were a kid, a few of them stopping by to pick Eddie and Steve up from school on occasion.  Eddie’s uncle Wayne was one of the original members, and most of the teachers kept their manners around the boys for that reason alone.  Sure, Steve got detention for carving his initials into one of the school desks, but little did you know that it was only because he knew you would be in there too.  

Steve revved the bike to life until it was growling, idling in place with his back to you while he strapped his bare bones helmet on.  

“How do you know him?” Donna asked, not afraid to be pushy. 

“Well, I—” you thought about the specifics of that question.  “I don’t know him at all anymore, really.  We were just kids. It’s been a long time.”

“You want my advice?” Donna wiped her mouth with a tissue from a nearby Kleenex box.  

You didn’t, but you knew you couldn’t stop her from giving it to you.

“If you’re looking for a bad boy type, his friend Eddie is a much better catch.  Runs his own business, works hard, stays out of trouble.  Steve? Well, let’s say Stevie is just—-”

You turned to her as Steve hit the main road and shot into the distance.  “He’s what?”

You waited while she rolled her lips together, wetting them thoughtfully, turning her gaze to the ceiling.

“He’s a nice kid, but he’s trouble,” she sighed.  “He’s not the type you’d want to get serious with, if you know what I mean.”

Coincidentally, you did know what that meant.  You were a bit of a connoisseur when it came to trouble; not only could you sniff it out, but it flocked to you like seagulls on a parking lot french fry.  

But what Donna didn’t know was that you were no angel.

You scoffed at her suggestion.  “I’m not looking for a relationship any time soon.  I plan to stay single for a while.”

Donna dumped the rest of her dinner in the trash under the cash register.  “In that case, you and Steve have more in common than I thought.”

—-----

Steve had the rest of the evening off, he should’ve gone straight home to have a beer in his boxers in front of the TV and try to pass out early. He’d been slinging wrenches at Munson’s Garage that day, a double shift to help Eddie out, and his hand was throbbing so hard he had to take it off the throttle and shake it out. 

But also, who was he kidding?  He hadn’t slept more than a few hours that whole week. He needed a distraction, he needed people, he needed to forget his gut-wrenching loneliness for a while.  

He revved the throttle, shooting himself faster along the empty highway, passing nothing but flat alfalfa fields and the odd farmhouse every mile or so.  The low, desert hills rolled like sleeping giants on the horizon as dusk descended.

The Blue Light Tavern was housed in a brick building built in the 40’s, located between the truck stop and the Rosebud Motel, about a mile or so from the center of town.  The only way anyone passing by would even know it was a tavern was due to the neon Pabst and Jameson signs in the two tiny front windows.  There were already two motorcycles out front when Steve pulled up, and he found a spot at the end.  

The bartender that night was Angie, and she greeted him by name when he strolled in.  He asked for a beer, picked some songs on the jukebox, and started a game of pool with a fellow MC member, cigarettes bobbing from their lips as they played.  

That's when you walked in. 

He took a drink from his pint glass, pausing it there, watching you scan the room before making your way quietly to one of the stools at the far end of the bar, on the corner, closest to the door, as if you might have to make a run for it.  You were in the same clothes you’d had on at the gas n’ sip, but now you wore a zip-up black hoodie, hugging it around your ribs as if you were cold.  

The guy Steve was playing pool with was known as Big Jim around Hawkeye. Head of hair slicked back with generous sideburns down to his jaw, and a white scar making a thin indentation from the corner of his mouth to his ear.  He wore a long sleeve red and black flannel under his Coffin Kings kutte with the name Hopper patched on one side.     

Hopper said something to Steve and he appeared to ignore him, but finally blinked a few times.  “What did you say?”

Hopper held his pool cue across his lap as he sat on one of the tall swivel chairs against the wall, long legs braced wide.  “It’s your move, Romeo,” he drawled, plucking his smoke from the ashtray to take a drag. .

Steve suddenly got very confused, frowning when he turned to his friend.  How could Hop know he was interested in you? 

Hop gestured to the green felt under the Budweiser chandelier with his chin, exhaling, framing his lips to make an “O” with the smoke.  “Your turn, pipsqueak.”

“Right,” Steve huffed, shaking his head as he pushed off the wall.  

—--------

You waited outside, staring up at the Pabst neon that was missing the “b”, trying to work up the nerve to go in.  The Blue Light Tavern had been around so long, you remembered it from the rare occasions when your dad met up with his buddies, back when it was called The Hideaway.  Before the accident, back when you were a kid and considered Hawkeye your home.  

You were officially a resident once more, but you weren’t sure if you’d feel at home anywhere ever.  You weren’t sure if you’d ever feel safe again.  You weren’t sure you’d ever feel again.

When you finally opened the door, smoke billowed out, and the low-lit, grimey ambiance felt like a familiar friend.  You weren’t in the mood to drink, necessarily, you just didn’t want to sit at your apartment alone.  There weren’t many public places open in Hawkeye after 9, so you’d just been walking around aimlessly for the past hour.  Your tiny rental above the Gas n’ Sip was empty but for a mattress, two kitchen chairs, and five or six boxes you still needed to unpack. It all felt too dismal and overwhelming to tackle after your first full day at your new job.  

“What’ll it be darlin’?” The brunette bartender asked, using a white rag to wipe down the bar in front of you.  There was ice melting in a tumbler, a few used toothpicks, and a sticky ring on the woodgrain.  She scooped it all out of the way and then stared at you with a hand on her ample hips.

You were flustered and said the first thing that came to mind.  “Can you make a gin and tonic?”

“I think I can handle that,” she winked, moving out of the way to grab a glass.  You could hear the billiard balls clacking together over the music of Bringin' on the Heartache by Def Leppard , but there was a jukebox and a length of partition in the way, so you couldn’t see who was at the table. Including you, there were only a handful of customers that night; one surly man with a long gray beard at the bar, a couple at a table looking up at the mounted Zenith TV on the wall playing a muted episode of the Twilight Zone, and another two were throwing darts at a well worn target.  

Angie placed a white cocktail napkin before setting your drink down.  “Someone bought you this,” she had tiny veins of red around the cracks of her bare lips, as if she’d been wearing lipstick earlier.

“Someone?” Disbelief came first, and then it made you paranoid.  The last thing you wanted was to get hit on by—-

“It was him,” Angie gestured down the end of the bar to where Steve caught your eye and bucked his chin at you.  

The universe really did have a sense of humor.

—-----

A few minutes later, once he finished his game and let Hopper win just to move things along, he sauntered over to put his booted foot up on the bottom rung of the stool next to you. His white tee had a V-neck, exposing a tuft of chest hair.  “Are you following me?”

You swished your drink with a red stir stick, and then sucked it clean.  “I won’t let this freebie go to my head, Harrington.  I bet you buy drinks for all the new women in town.”

He gripped a fresh cigarette between pursed lips and lit the end, looking up at you from under his furrowed, James Dean brow.  “Yeah, but you’re not new.”

“Shhh it’s a secret,” you snipped two fingers in the air like a pair of scissors and he grinned at that, offering his pack of reds for you to take one. One of his ears was pierced, and a small silver hoop curved there.  

“Since when do you smoke?”

“I don’t,” you answered flatly, leaning over so that he could light the end for you with his plastic blue Bic, inhaling so that your cheeks hollowed.  

“You want to read my palm again?”

“Again?” You exhaled smoke to the side.

Steve straddled the stool and got comfortable with his elbows on the bar.  “You read my palm once when we were kids,” he straightened his arm, locking his elbow, so that his palm was open in front of you.  “I think you said my love life would be troubled, but I’d live a long life.  And then you made some crack about how I’d let the right one get away.”

You huffed a laugh and chomped onto your bottom lip to keep from smiling too big, staring at his strong fingers as they wiggled in front of you, veins popping strong in his forearm. 

“I can’t believe you remember that.” Tilting your head to the side, you took another sip of your drink, cringing a little at the strength of the alcohol; it was a glass of gin with a splash of tonic.  But maybe Angie’s heavy hand was a blessing that night.  

The gold in his tooth flashed like lightning in a storm. “I remember everything,” his voice was soft and deep, and you had to look away before he turned you into a brainless, lovesick zombie from his vampiric-strength powers of persuasion. 

Clearing your throat, you squirmed a bit under the weight of his stare.  “My palmistry days are behind me. I’m out of practice.”

He slid his hand back, but slowly, hoping you might want to touch it or grab it or—-

“But I am curious—”

Fingers flexed flat again as an invitation.

“---what does it say on your knuckles?”

“Oh these?” He made two fists and twisted them to read it himself as if he wasn’t sure, and then put both palms flat and slid them back in your direction, fingers splayed.  

Murmuring aloud as you spelled it out, you realized that the right knuckles spelled LOVE and the left ones said PAIN in thick, capital lettering.  

“My turn,” he pulled back his shoulders, taking another drag, squinting, before resting his cigarette butt back in the ashtray.

“Your turn for what?”

“Questions. What is that key around your neck for?”

You slapped a hand over the metal piece dangling from a chain, not realizing it had escaped the confines of your shirt collar, fingering it thoughtfully as you thought about what type of story you should make up.  

You could tell him the truth, but you weren’t sure you were emotionally equipped to answer any further questions.  You made a fist around the key and started massaging it with your thumb, when another hulking biker with a thick mustache cupped a meaty hand onto Steve’s shoulder.

“Bones just paged, we gotta meet them at the junkyard,” the big man shifted his kind, blue eyes to you, blinking with a nod of his head to acknowledge your presence, and offer his silent apologies all at once.  

Steve stood without argument, clearly duty bound, but his attention remained on you. He motioned Hopper ahead, and then he idled there, internally stumbling over his words.

“Any chance you’ll be here again tomorrow night?” He flicked the spark on his lighter a few times as he spoke out of nervous habit.

You tucked the metal key into your shirt.  “I work the late shift at the gas station tomorrow.” 

His mood seemed to lift slightly at knowing where you would be.  

“Taz,” Hopper hummed from the door where he braced it open with his broad back, offering a blast of fresh air to the nicotine saturated walls. Taz was Steve’s nickname in the club, but that was just one more thing you had yet to learn about him. He adjusted the collar of his leather jacket, gave your bicep a tender squeeze as he went by, and leaned down to whisper, “it’s good to see you,” at the shell of your ear, giving you goosebumps.  

Once he was gone, the tavern suddenly felt emptier, the sound of George Thorogood singing about drinking alone pounding much louder as you stared down at the glass in your hand.  

You finished your drink and then you made the trek back home, hugging yourself against the crisp night breeze, wondering how you would occupy your time for the next couple hours before you found sleep.

—------

The roar of their two engines cut through the dry June night like a knife, affording no illumination but their headlights and the moon.  Steve had replaced his leather jacket with his own MC leather that said TAZ on the front from one of his saddlebags, bare flesh of his arms exposed to show the scattering of tattoos there as he gripped the handlebars.  Both riders wore clear safety glasses to protect their eyes from the wind and the kamikazee bugs.  

Snipes Junkyard loomed menacingly in the expanse of desert, shrouded in cobalt night.  Heaps of twisted metal wreckage, smashed cars all piled on top of each other, and a high fence made of corrugated metal with curls of razor wire along the top ridge.  

There was a group of bikes parked out front when they arrived and two of the Coffin Kings Prospects, Riot and Krebs, guarded the gate to the place.  

Both new arrivals put their helmets on the end of their handlebars and tucked their safety glasses into their front pocket as they approached.

“What are we walking into?” Hopper asked, and Riot was already shaking his head in answer.

“The underground tunnels were breached,” he said, tucking a strand of curly black hair behind his ear.  “Crater isn’t happy.”

Crater was a Hawkeye native who got his nickname because of the chicken pock scars that covered his cheeks and jaw. He was also President of one of the other MC’s in town called the Skull Crushers.

When tensions were high among the gangs, there was always a good chance someone would pull a gun or start punching, so Steve and Hopper shared a weary look, bracing themselves before entering.

—------

Just as you were about to step up onto your block, you caught sight of someone coming out of the mini mart that you lived above.  A side door led up a flight of narrow stairs, and the top room was all yours; it was the size of a tin can, but it was shelter and you were grateful.  

Through the soft glow of the front window, you saw Donna’s husband Ned behind the counter with his half-moon reading spectacles on and a novel open in front of him.  Which reminded  you to make sure you brought some material to entertain you on your shift the next night.  

Somewhere not too far off in the distance, a group of coyotes yipped their excited whines.

The person who’d just come out paused on the sidewalk to light a smoke, and you sank around the corner of the building to watch the guy in the jeans, leather, and thick boots stroll over to put some gas in the tank of his Harley. Bulkier than the one Steve rode, this one was glossy obsidian with chrome pipes and a sissy bar in back, as if he usually had a rider with him.  His hair was unruly, long and dark, and once you caught a glimpse of his profile from the dim beam above the pumps, you knew right away that it was Eddie Munson.  

You thought about getting his attention to say hello, but then realized that your social battery was tapped for the day.  The cigarette dangled from his mouth when he took off, and you waited until he was down the street before darting to the stairs of your apartment.

—-----

A few hours later, Steve’s left hand with the PAIN held a black payphone receiver to his ear while the other hand rolled the numbers on the rotary dial.  His knuckles were freshly spit and bleeding, since one of the Skull Crushers had come at him during a misunderstanding at the meet earlier, and he was forced to lay the guy out.  He felt wired, like rest had somehow become his enemy, something he ran from as it tracked him ruthlessly.  

A woman who went by the name Lorelei picked up on the second ring.  

“It’s me,” he coughed and tasted that familiar copper tang. “It’s Steve.  Are you busy?”

It was almost 4 in the morning, but Steve had been a regular customer for a few months and, also, she didn’t mind his company.  He wasn’t like her other customers; he didn’t want the typical things from her.  

His hand haphazardly bandaged with a red handkerchief; he hugged it to his chest when he knocked at the door of room 8 at the Rosebud Motel.  When it opened, Lorelei stood there with a silk, periwinkle kimono wrapped snug around her curves, and motioned him in. There were two lamps on in the room, both of their shades draped with floral scarves, and a candle burned on the nightstand, smelling of essential oils, bergamot and lavender.   She didn’t live at the Rosebud, but she did stay a few nights in a row there when she was working.  

Steve's relationship history thus far had been a blur of endless disconnect, a series of hit and runs that left his heart empty and his eyes vacant.  It was easy for a guy in a motorcycle club to get laid; their parties were always crawling with eager pussy.  But after a certain age, that wasn’t what he craved anymore. He often worried that the parental dynamic he’d witnessed growing up, or lack thereof, had fucked him up to the point that he would never be able to have a normal relationship with a girl he liked.  

A while ago he’d given up on love, figured that he was broken. But he still had urges, and making them transactional helped him to disengage further.  

“What are you in the mood for?” Lorelei hooked a finger into his belt loop and pulled him closer, searching his face.  “Same as last time, hmm?”

Steve lowered his head, internal exhaustion making him dizzy.  He held her arm, thumbing the delicate material of her robe.  “Not tonight,” he swallowed thickly.  “Just the stuff that…comes after.”

Nodding that she understood, she cupped his chin so he would look at her. “Will three hours be enough?” One look at him told her what he needed was 24 at the least, but three was all she had to give.

Over the years, Steve had come to realize that his insomnia was somehow cured when he could sleep next to someone.  To roll over and have them there, to hold them.  Alone, his mind raced, and nightmares plagued the inside of his eyelids. With Lorelei, they mostly slept side by side, and the weight and familiarity of her was somehow enough to calm his nervous system down to a reasonable level.

“Come,” she sat him on the edge of the bed and knelt to unlace his boots.  He wrestled to pull his wallet out of his back pocket, ready to pluck some bills out, but she put her hand up to stop him.

“After, okay? I trust you,” she whispered, tugging off the first boot by the heel, rubbing the ball of his foot a little before moving to the next shoe.  

Steve’s head bobbed on his neck, and then he rolled it back to center, eyes heavy.   

He always refused to undress fully, and Lorelei suspected it had something to do with how vulnerable it made him feel, but she never asked questions.  He scooted up to find the pillow with his head, and by the time she crawled in next to him and put her hand on his thigh, he was out.  

-------

Thank you to my darling readers who love biker Steve!

[villainshoe]

cw: childhood to lovers, penis in vagina, brat taming, spanking, praise (good girl, princess, love), knot, heat, creampie, multiple orgasm, overstimulation, age up collage!bakugou katsuki, pining, afab!reader, edging, no proofread, marking, omegaverse

Summary: y/n was on a horrible date and she happen to entered her heat and she called the one person she would trust with this.

author note: this was commissioned by a friend in a sever. If you want one please dm me and we can discuss prices! Read more under the cut

Katsuki didn’t know what to do when he got a frantic call from his best friend y/n about needing an escape from a bad date. He hated it when she went on dates considering he’s been trying to court her everyday since 8th grade of middle school and it’s now senior year of collage. He could hear panic in her voice, so he quickly jumped up and got pants and a hoodie on, grabbing his keys. “Hey, stay where you are at and I’ll come get you.” He said to her as he heard her whimper out okay.

By the time he was dressed he was halfway out the door. He got into his car and drove to the place she was at. Of course it was a locally run restaurant. He got out and walked into the restaurant but was smack hard in the face with the stench of an omega in heat, he paled at the thought of it being her. He rushes towards the bathroom, he knocks on the door quickly, wanting to know if she was alright. “Come in ‘Suki.” He heard the scared timid voice of his childhood best friend’s sister. He walked in and smelt her even more clearly now, it was making his alpha wanna claim her, to mate her. He shook his head and pulled her up from her sitting position with her knees pulled up to her chest and had her head buried in them.

“‘Suki! What are you doing, you don’t need to manhandle me!” y/n said and let him pull her up anyway knowing she had asked for his help. What she didn’t expect was to be scented by him rubbing himself against her cheek and both arms. “I’m not manhandling you.” He said and put his jacket on her to keep more of his scent on her.

“I’m making sure no one will touch you. As your friend it’s my job to protect you.” He simply said and his alpha was purring at the thought of her being covered in his scent. But that disappeared when y/n shrugged off the jacket he had put on her, causing him to growled but took the jacket back and sighs softly. “I don’t need to be scented to be safe with you here ‘Suki.” She said, causing him to pin her against the wall outside of the bathroom. “You’ll listen to me closely, I do because you’re in heat so you know you’re not safe without scent patches or representations.” He snapped at her.

Y/n shrinks slightly and bites her lip to not give in to her omega who wants to please him, but she was stubborn so she bared her teeth at him which made him growled and stare down at her when she didn’t back down. So putting his jacket back on, he threw her over his shoulders, thankful she was wearing skinny jeans. He walked out to his car and placed her in the front seat, he buckled her in but not before she bit his hand, growling and hissing at him.

“I don’t need a babysitter!” She snapped at him once more, he growled and got into the driver side and drove off. He bites his tongue to make sure he didn’t stop somewhere random and fuck her stupid right there and then. “Obviously you do, you called me to pick you up to save you from creep! I told you he was just wanting a omega to fuck and you were that omega.” Bakugou said and pulled into the dorm garage. He got out and picked her up bridal style, carrying her to her bedroom all the while trying not to mate her. He wants to do this right, court her with gifts, scent blankets and hoodies and flowers. All that to have her as his mate, but smelling her in heat was kicking up his rut earlier then it supposed to be.

He drops her on the bed and prepares to go get her food when she grabs him, he looks down at her with a curious lift of his brow. “Please, stay.” She said the words that were in his head every time he had to go get her. “I can’t deal with fuck up thing alone Katsuki.” She said and he growled, turning around and forced her to look at him. “First thing first, it’s alpha if I’m going to help.” He hissed out as she began to rub at his crotch, he swatted her hand away, smirking to himself. “You’re not allowed to touch, if you do you’ll get ten spankings, and you should do as you’re told.” He said, causing her to whine but nodded her head. “Good omega, now, take off your clothes slut, let me see your beautiful body.” He commanded which she automatically listened to as she undressed herself, showing off her curves and the one thing he wanted to taste right now, her beautiful pussy.

“Be a good girl and spread your legs widely.” He said but y/n smirked and closed her legs, not letting him see her cute little pussy. He growled and kneel on the bed. “Open your legs… now.” Bakugou growled out causing her to whimper and kept her legs close to see what he’ll do. But the gasped let out from her pretty red stain lipstick caused him to smirk when he had her bind over his leg. “Now count to ten then I’ll reward you.” With every strike against her ass, she counted each one but tears were beginning together in her eyes as the strikes got harder, leaving both cheeks red and sore. “Ten!” She cried out as he struck her left cheek once more.

He let her get back on the bed, but spread her legs this time. He looked at how it glistened in the moonlight, he laid down on his stomach so he could have a closer look at her quivering hole. He leaned in and ran his tongue up from her hole to her clit, moaning at the taste, he attached his lips to her clit, sucking on it before circling two fingers around her entrance. He moved away when he heard her cry out for more. “Patient, I’ll give you more.” He replied as he attached his mouth back on her, sucking and nipping at her clit, letting his two fingers enter her and began to pump them in and out. He could feel her walls clenched around his fingers making him harder so he began to grind against the mattress, her hand in his hair as she tried to stay in the present of our bliss.

“Alpha! More please?” She cries out as he sped up his fingers, hitting the perfect spongy spot in her causing her to see stars, her walls squeezing his fingers tighter, he pulled his fingers away as she cried out in disappointment but gasped in delight as he cover her pussy with his mouth and using his tongue to prod to at her entrance before he slip it in, a finger on her clit rubbing in time with his tongue thrusting in her leaking hole. “Alpha I’m going to cum!” She cries out and he sped up his rubbing at her clit, licking at her entrance once she started to come undone on his tongue and fingers.

After a few minutes he pulled away noticing she was becoming overstimulated, he got off of the bed and got undressed his cock slapped his lower abdomen. “Now since you’ve been a good girl, I’ll give you a reward.” He said with a soft smile as he placed her legs over his shoulders and lined himself up with her. “Are you ready?” He asked, making y/n nod her head. “Yes, Alpha, I’m ready.” That’s all he needed to hear as he slid in until he bottomed out, grunting how tight she was. “Fuck, so tight for me princess.” He growled out, pulling out until the tip of his head was in. Before she could whine, he slams back in, grunting as he does so. “Fuck, alpha, feels so good.” She whines and he begins a slow but steady pace, gripping her hips tightly.

“Fuck so good love.” He praised as he kept thrusting in and out of her, rubbing at her clit, feeling her walls trying to suck him in deeper he folded her in half and began to pound into her. “Alpha! I’m gonna cum!” She cried out again before he stopped ripping her out of another orgasm. “Why? I was good! I was really good!” She felt tears in her eyelashes. “You’re not allowed to cum until I say so.” He said and thrust into her again, but a very slow pace was set, the thumb on her clit rubbing slow figure eights on it. He could feel her walls sucking him back in and he could get used to it. He quickly bends to her neck and bites harshly on her scent gland, marking her his forever, his omega no matter what.

He sucks on the bite as he feels her walls quiver around him, her scent turning into the smell of them both, turning him on more than he thought it would, knowing this he wasn’t going to last long, so he begin to thrusts sloppily and rub her clit in sloppy fashion, cause her to cry out loudly. He growled and bites on her shoulder harshly to stop his, as he did so he could feel her tighten up. “I’m gonna cum!” She screamed out and with one last thrust he felt her come undone alongside of him, his knot swell inside of her. Connect them together for at least an hour until the swelling goes down. “I love you Alpha.” y/n said, causing Bakugou to smile the rare smile reserved just for her. “I love you too omega.” He said as they both fell asleep for a nap.

[cranqerrie]

OK so I put my ed on hold for one and a half days (my parents visited me after 2 months in uni!!) + we celebrated my cousin sister's 18th bday

First of all the last time my parents saw me I was 11 kgs heavier and they were SHOCKED.

The first thing my mom asked was, "You're not anemic or bulimic or stuff right" 😭 no mom I'm anorexic but thanks <3

They talked about me losing weight for the whole fucking day, "omg your face/arm/legs are so small, you've shrunk so much! Youre like how you were in 8th grade." And they could not believe it. They thought I lost 2 to 3 kgs, like 2-3 kgs won't do shit. Even my aunt was surprised and just congratulated me.

Next, I BOUGHT SO MANY CUTE CLOTHES THAT I WOULD NEVER HAVE BEFORE. I got three low waist jeans AND THEY LOOK AMAZING (I'm saving them for when I lose like 5 more kgs minimum), and so many crop tops and a gorgeous dress anksjdj, I'm so happy I walked into the trial room and walked out with a smile rather than tears like before.

In terms of food, yes I ate more in these two days that I have in the past two weeks but they were healthy actually. Mostly proteins, a few chips, but a lot of homemade food. I don't feel shitty like how I do when I eat junk food, I feel nourished lmaoo.

And I promised myself to enjoy these two days and just eat whatever I want.

Now that I've enjoyed, I'm going back to uni and I have a plan :)) I have to look hot in all the low waist jeans, my dresses etc esp for my halloween outfit asap. (I'm going to lie to my friends that I had some bad food and got food poisoning, will help me get out of tricky situations this week cuz it's filled with food related stuff.)

Anyways, we back 🫶🫶

[simonsrosebud]

hi, i just wanted to say how much i love your next gen socmed au!

could you give us more information on amalia day and how her relationships are(with her parents, stepfathers, significant others)

yes!! i love her sm

Amalia & Kevin

Despite the stern, impolite, and brash Kevin that we see in aftg, the Kevin that raises Amalia is almost a complete opposite

Kevin and Thea have split custody of Amalia, but Kevin has her a lot more often. She grows up in Kevin’s shadow, but he is very protective of her when it comes to his fame because he decided before she was even born that he did not want the same kind of childhood for her.

Amalia has Kevin’s determined and focused expression, the one that often mimics Wymack’s on the sidelines.

She also has Kevin’s resting bitch face, which Andrew is the one to point it out to Kevin, it leaves him speecsshless.

Amalia is a daddy’s girl and it’s always “daddy do it!” when him and Thea were still together.

Kevin carried her until shded literally got too big to carry, she’s his little girl and he surely treats her like the little princess she is.

Stern with her when need be because someone has to.

Ultimate sports dad. Goes to every single game of hers and cheers her on like all the other dads. Wymack, Jean and Jeremy relegate him to being a normal person about her playing exy instead of being kevin days daughter. Jeremy bc he’s seen the damage it can do, Jean bc he never got a choice in his future and needs to ensure she does, and Wymack bc he’s his voice of reason.

Kevin is the one who she goes to to complain and hear what she wants to hear, because Kevin is smart with his words when it comes to her.

Kevin is the one who teaches her to drive- the only one she lets because Jeremy is not a good driver and Jean doesn’t have the patience.

He takes her to shop for prom dresses with Abby and Amalia’s school friend. He gets teary eyed once she disappears back inside to take off the winner. She looks so much like his mother it hurts.

When Amalia is truly heartbroken over her relationship with Thea (because she sees how Katelyn Minyard is with the twins, how her friends are with their moms) then she cuddles with Kevin, something she hasn’t done to this extent in a few years, and falls asleep in his bed.

Amalia has Kevin’s stubbornness and hard headedness, his determination and confidence.

Amalia & Jeremy

Jeremy is the one that Amalia goes to when she wants something because more often than not he will say yes (within reason of course)

Jeremy is also the one that Amalia goes to when she fucks up and is scared of the consequences because Jeremy is the most patient of the three and operates by calmly talking things out and discussing what will probably happen while also making it clear that she has to tell the others or he will.

He is the one that she curls into and cries to when Thea doesn’t text her until 7pm for her 17th birthday, and who she confides in when someone in 8th grade questions her about her 3 dads and she doesn’t know what to say.

Jeremy and her go to the movies often and it’s their thing. They love Marvel movies and House of the Dragon (shut up ab timelines) and spend like 20 minutes after movies and weekly episodes debating and theorizing what this meant or what will happen next or what movie could come next.

Amalia and Jeremy share the same humor that he, Cat and Laila always had. They’re both silly and lighthearted and laugh with their whole bodies, a mimicked thing from over the years.

Amalia has Jeremy’s gentle heartedness and easy joy.

Amalia & Jean

^But Jean’s honesty and ability to verbally rip someone to shreds.

Jean is the most conscious of not stepping on Kevin and Thea’s toes when he and Jeremy get reintroduced into Kevin and Amalia’s lives, so he and Amalia take longer to bond. He and Kevin have too much history for him not to care about her, he’d take her in without question for her safety after the world they’d grown up in. But he knows there are limits when there is an existing family involved in the relationship he, Jeremy, and Kevin endeavor on.

Jean speaks to Amalia solely in French until she’s like 7 because Kevin and Thea were raising her bilingual and it was hard for Kevin to teach both when he had custody of her most of the time. Even after, French becomes their main mode of communication.

Jean teaches her to cook the same way that Cat once taught him. Coming becomes their thing.

Jean buys her pads and tampons when she gets her first period a month after Thea gets transferred three states over. It’s mortifying for her but Jean has zero shame and shows her how to use a tampon against her will.

Jean is the one Amalia goes to to complain and get a brutally honest answer or advice or whatnot. She goes to him when she’s pissed off and wants to scream because he’s surprisingly good at settling her with just facts and not feelings.

Amalia & Thea

Thea was heavily focused on her Exy career even after she had Amalia, but always made the time for her.

She and Amalia always had a special bond, but by the time Amalia is 9 that has greatly lessened. I don’t want to paint Thea as a bad guy bc it’s rlly not ab her as much as me simply wanting kerejean lol.

Amalia gets Thea’s skin tone, lighter but still not white. She teaches Amalia about her indian heritage and teaches her to love herself because she knows it’s not easy being a woman of color even if Amalia passes as a tan white girl with bright green eyes. Amalia learns to stick up for herself and correct people when they mis-label her as white.

She gets Thea and Kevin’s athleticism and height and ends up being 5’11.

Thea gets transferred to another team when Amalia is 12, and Kevin and Thea don’t go to court for custody because Thea knows Amalia needs to stay where she is with her family and friends and support systems. Thea is very supportive of Jeremy and Jean being in Amalia’s life bc she knows how important they are to her and wouldn’t rip her from that.

But her calls become less frequent over the years and although she visits when she can, Amalia doesn’t feel like she knows her as much as she should. Junior year of high school when Thea is a sports announcer or smth after retiring, she’s only able to get one weekend off not two in a row, and instead of using it for Amalia’s prom she uses it for her Exy tournament the weekend after. This crushes Amalia.

Amalia gets very jealous of other mother daughter bonds and Abby fills in as a mother figure while Thea is gone. Kevin, Jeremy, and Jean pick up on this easily and fill in where they can.

Amalia loves her mother, but she hates that she left. She hates that she didn’t visit, that her calls had spaced so far apart, that she wasn’t there 24/7 like she was supposed to be. She had 3 fathers that she loved, but nothing would compare to the way she remembered her mother brushing or braiding her hair and telling her stories when she was little.

Significant other?

I don’t have anyone planned out for her rn bc in the AU she’s freshly 17, but I think she befriends a kid from her high school exy team, a boy striker a year below her. He lives with his aunt and uncle because his mother died and his father is in prison, and Amalia often times finds him in the gym practicing alone because it’s so quiet at home, and his aunt and uncle are lovely but it’s just jarring to get used to, not having parents.

Amalia is a dealer, so she invites him to practice with her on the weekend when “my dads are free. we have scrimmages sometimes.”

And he agrees but hesitantly. He knows who Amalia’s parents are, and he knows he’s no match for them. But she’s delighted when he’s actually waiting there when she walks into the gym that weekend with Kevin and Jeremy in tow. Bc he’s dorky and kinda quiet which rivals her family, so she wasn’t expecting him to actually show.

The kid does pretty well, but unsurprisingly gets lots of criticism from Kevin. He doesn't waste time with the switch from how he played to how Kevin is telling him to play instead. He’s the pro after all.

Then it becomes a habit, practicing with Amalia with or without her family, and eventually he impresses their coach enough to let him start a game.

Then they start hanging out more often.

He gets more playing time, which Amalia likes, because he's a reliable player and quick to call for help. Morgan’s other seniors don't do that and it infuriates her because then it's her fault for not dropping her mark and helping out.

And then he starts getting invited over for lunch after going to the court on the weekends. He gets along with Jeremy and finally meets Jean who grips his hand hard when he shakes it and says something to Amalia in french just to make him sweat bc this is the kid that's been making her smile at her phone so often?

Kevin doesn’t know when things go from friendly to more than that, but jean is the first to notice. He brings it up to Kevin and Jeremy first bc did they even establish rules on dating?! But then Jeremy sees Amalia run out to the lawn and jump into his arms and nearly take him down on the ring camera and- did she just kiss him?! Before getting into his car?! Did no one else see that?!

“You’re freaking out”

“Yeah, within reason though, right? She’s dating!”

“Kev, not to alarm you, but there's also a good chance she's kissed a boy by now, too. She’s seventeen.”