#Proud Parent Posting

[kakusu-shipping]

To the suprise of no one, my Top 5 Favorite My Hero Academia Characters

[andresmounts2]

Transphobes hate us whether or not we go by neopronouns. You are not quirky or cool because you hate neopronouns & the people who use them.

We will never meet their expectations, so accusing certain trans people as being the problem makes you just as bad as transphobic people.

You don't have to understand it to be respectful. Calling someone "xe/xem" or "bun/bunself" isn't going to make you combust into a million pieces. As long as they aren't hurting anyone, let them live.

[ew-selfish-art]

Dpx Dc AU: Ectoplasm is required for Ghosts to be visible to the human eye- And Danny creates his own ectoplasm.

Danny is visiting Jazz in Gotham and its weird how friendly everyone is. Like, the city gets a really bad rapport, everywhere he goes there is someone trying to strike up a conversation or answer his questions about getting around to the tourist spots. A few people even pointed out restaurants and ways to find off the beaten path gems! Jazz seems to role her eyes at him, but when he brings up her 'roommate' being kind of cute she flat out laughs.

Danny then comes to understand the Jazz doesn't have a roommate and that Ghosts in Gotham don't move far from their haunts- He's just been inadvertently turning these undead folks visible by accident of generating abnormal amounts of ectoplasm.

Which, is comforting in a way, he's never walking this dangerous city alone and really, most of the ghosts have been really friendly! They disappear once he's a few blocks away from them anyway.

---

Tim Drake is having a horrible day.

He'd been given intel that one of Black Mask's guys was going to snitch but that he'd died before given the opportunity to reach out to the GCPD. He tracks down the guy's last know whereabouts and yikes. Its next to the Theater. Tim was often grateful for his childhood obsessions, this time it backfired.

Tim and Bruce get into an argument about trust and respect and, worst of all, mental health. And even though Tim was vehemently against Batman accompanying Red Robin to the alleyway - that's exactly what happens.

They arrive and Bruce is closing up faster than a clam in the contaminated Gotham Bay- Clearly being in the Alley bothers him. No fucking shit. RR gets started on collecting evidence, there are a few extra blood splatters and a single left shoe... When a kid walks into the Alley.

"Uh, sorry to intrude-" The kid looks scared shitless, and runs away. And then, all of a sudden, Batman and Robin aren't alone in the Alley.

Tim can hardly believe his eyes as the dead man appears and quickly blabs Black Mask's bank passwords and what the plan had been- and While he's over joyed to have that closure, he turns around to Batman weeping in the arms of his parents.

The ghosts fade, and the emotions are certainly charged as this was never something Bruce or Tim would have ever dreamed of happening. Ghosts in Gotham. Talking, floating, granting closure.

"RR, Bats, come in." Oracle calls into their ears.

"Reporting in, but, uh, we need a minute."

"A minute? We have a case on 4th and-"

"O, we just saw the ghosts of the Waynes. It's going to be a minute."

"...Lots of Ghost reports lately then. Any chance you saw a kid looking like he could be adopted?"

"Yeah, actually, black hair and blue eyes. He was super polite before he ran away."

"We have work to do. Oracle, lets prioritize finding our person of interest and divert Nightwing and Robin to the case on 4th." Batman cut between them on the comms and he sounded... calmer than either of them anticipated.

---

Jazz is no longer laughing when Batman appears at her door explaining that he's looking for Danny (Who already flew away from town to get a good night's sleep before class on Monday). Turns out Danny reunited the man with his dead parents just briefly- and then the second guy appears and mentions how Danny had also given a guy who'd been murdered by a Mob enough time to explain the ongoing threats the city faced.

Jazz just rolls her eyes and says that it's not like the ghosts are going anywhere anytime soon and Danny will visit in another month. When pressed, she just explains that her brother is a weirdo. No of course he doesn't have powers. Gaslight and Girlbosses her way out.

And Jazz thinks that the game is up for at least another month, obviously when Danny visits more shit will stir up, but then this new guy appears.

Unlike the other Bats who are keen on watching her from a distance, the Red Hood knocks on her door. Are her eyebrows all the way into her hairline when Red Hood asks her to send his thanks along to Danny because somehow this whole situation led to his Dad expressing remorse for his actions and apologizing? Yes, yes they are.

But Jazz can smell Dissertation Data off of these vigilantes- Who is she to send them away? Jazz welcomes Red Hood into her place for a cup of tea and a small chat.

The story then devolves into Jazz getting shit done, Danny being cute by proximity and also bringing ghosts to the party, and the Bats having trauma resolve between them.

[monakisu]

light gets it from his mom… “it” as in “two-faced backstabbing snakery” ˘ᗜ˘🐍

(late) gift 3/3 for my secret santa @llawlieta !!! for ur prompt of yagami family Fucked Up goodness ( ͒•·̫|💚🍭🎀 hope u enjoy!! HAPPY HOLS! * ੈ✩‧��˚* ੈ✩‧₊

[kakusu-shipping]

BIRTHDAY WITH THE LEAGUE FAMILY!!!! ABSOLUTE PEAK!!!!!

Thankyou so MUCH Echo this is so cute!!!!!!! o((>ω< ))o

Happy Birthday @kakusu-shipping!!! I hope you have a great day!

(bonus All For One:)

[melto]

if mukky has a million fans, then i am one of them. if mukky has ten fans, then i am one of them. if mukky has only one fan then that is me. if mukky has no fans, then that means i am no longer on earth. if the world is against mukky, then i am against the world.

[manidk1273]

🎀 — Prodigy

You were the result of a one night stand, your mother tried to "baby-trap" Tony but of course that didn't work. Though, by law— (and since your mother was unstable) you were under the custody of your father, Tony Stark. As the years pass.. he notices a lot about you.

You were the only (known) child of Tony Stark by far. Being only 2 weeks old when the mess happened, you didn't even have a name— You were only given one once your father, Tony Stark won the case. He chose a wonderful name for you.

You couldn't be more grateful. Sure, you were unplanned and it was a little bit messy but he loves you so much. He calls you his greatest creation. You didn't disappoint too. Of course the Stark's were known as geniuses. And you weren't excluded.. in fact, you progressed so much faster than any of your predecessors that scientists wanted to study you at the age of 7 months old. Of course, as your legal guardian and awesome father, Tony immediately turned down the offer.

At age 2, you could already properly read and write. With perfect grammar, you could write long informative text— even stories.

At age 4, you already were learning the fundamentals of mathematics. Addition, Subtraction, Multiplication, Division. And since your father didn't want you to go to public or private schools (too many risks.) he hired personal tutors for you. You already were progressing faster than anyone he ever saw before, and he was so proud.

At age 5, You already could understand the simpler inventions your father made. And it was better since he would explain it step-by-step to you. And this was your favourite time of the day, not only because you get to learn but also because you get to spend time with your dad.

At age 6— your IQ was just.. off the charts. You were devouring knowledge, information like it was your favourite food! And as the caring, loving father Tony is, he happily provided you the things you need (including his love and care.).

You were the youngest of many things. You were already marked as a genius at age 2. Not only did he find out you were a genius an interesting characteristic of yours is that you NEVER, ever forget. You even remembered everything that happened when you were 2 weeks old. You remember the exact date, location and time.. it was insane.

At age 7, you were already competing with competitors 5 times your age. And surprisingly, you won every competition you were in. But of course, you're humble. (Pepper teaches you to always be humble.)

You never ceased to stop learning. It was your hobby, it was fun for you. Everything you read was always imprinted in your mind instantly.

Tony is just.. the definition of proud whenever you do something. Whether it be winning a simple chess match, quiz bee.. trivia, whatever. In fact, he has two whole rooms dedicated to you. With your certificates, trophies, medals. He's just so proud.

As he says,

“ You're my pride and joy, kid. ”

That's currently my first ever try writing in Tumblr, I don't usually write much anymore but I used to be a writer in Wattpad and AO3 😅

I'm sorry for any grammar mistakes I did, please point it out so I can fix them! Much appreciated.

Thank you so much if you reached the end, good day to you<3

[glumby]

noticed that my next post (this one) will be my 1000th post on this blog 💀 so I decided to redraw my very first post to commemorate it!

[himejoshiangels]

unfortunately thinking hard abt how Bruce meets duke at three vastly different times in his life and how he watched the innocence and cheer leave him as he got older and more jaded only for his spirit to blaze with hope when he matures into the signal

[tacagen]

one of the things that fascinate me about thawne: yes, he CAN be normal with kids! surprisingly normal!

((not at all times, though. his mental illness still spills through and as usual he, in trying to manipulate or hurt others, spits out at them the exact stuff that would hurt him (or have in his childhood/barry's rejection interpretation) the most in the first place lmao))

but at the same time. his like second instinct when doing his bullshit is FUCK THEM (as) KIDS

(and, well. whatever this classifies as)

[bluelolblue]

Biscuit

Summary: Santino found an abandoned puppy and decided to take her home. He named her Biscotti, and she quickly became a new family member, getting along with Dog and Santino's husband and bodyguard, John.

Rating: Teen, lots of fluff

Relationship: Santino D'Antonio/John Wick

Note: This fic is a gift for my dog Lara, for her birthday! I decided to write this because I needed something wholesome, and because I also think Lara wouldn't want any dog to be abandoned. They all deserve a nice home. This fic also means a lot to me, I put some of Lara's characteristics into Biscotti, and I think it really fits her and how Santino and John handle everything. They love dogs so why not give them a little fluffy puppy ^ ^

☆ SPECIAL THANKS TO @mrssimply ☆ for beta reading and helping out with it! I'm so glad you enjoyed it and got to read it first ehehe!

Enjoy Santino and John being dog parents :3

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ૮ ᴖﻌᴖა ｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

Snippet

“When are you coming back?”

“Tomorrow afternoon, probably. I settled things down here,” John said through the phone. He was sent to Italy to do one of Santino's jobs. Why should the Crime Lord himself get his hands dirty when he had a loyal bodyguard... who was also his husband who would die for him?

“Good, I can't wait. There's something I want to show you.”

John could tell Santino was smiling even through the phone. He didn’t often hear that soft tone over the phone so he was actually really curious to know what made him this happy.

“Did you do something?” John asked, smiling to himself. Usually when Santino was being honest he sounded like this, meaning John could indeed expect something. Probably something good.

“No… kinda. You'll see.”

“Alright. I'm looking forward to whatever it is,” John said, “And I can't wait to see you.”

He could hear a faint chuckle and what he assumed was Dog whining playfully in the background. Although, it sounded a bit more high pitched.

“Can't wait to see you, too. Be careful on your last day there. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

What could've Santino done in one day? John knew him pretty well, he was married to him, he knew his habits, his mood, everything. And he knew how sometimes Santino could be unpredictable, but that never changed the way John felt about him.

He was thinking about Santino the whole day, he couldn't wait to return back home and see whatever Santino had been preparing. He missed Dog, too.

Thankfully, he could rest today at the Continental in Rome. He’d done what he had to do, there shouldn't be any problems, he could allow himself to rest.

He took a nap so that time flew faster, and that nap turned into a full deep sleep which was good. However at some point at 2 am he was awakened by a notification on his phone, and it was from Santino.

He sent a picture of Dog curled up on the bed on John's side, followed by a text, “He misses you and wishes you good night.”

Read the rest on ao3

[kakusu-shipping]

4, 5, and 6 for the agere asks for.... all of your BNHA regressors? :D

That's... a few too many characters for me to answer all in one ask, so let's limit it to just The League sense they all go together well

minus a Dabi icon because I can't find flags for any of my headcanons for them

Asks from Here

4. Does your regressed f/o collect things? If so, what is it and how much do you enable it?

I'll enable my League babies in anything and everything, first of all. Second, the only one of the four who actively collects things is probably Himiko. She's a bit of a hoarder of anything she deems cute and tends to just pick things up and stuff them in her pockets.

Not an active collection he does on his own but Tomura has more Dog stuffies than much anything else, though he does also have Pokemon and Minecraft ones his older self has placed on shelves he can't reach because they are Mint Condition back at AFO's manor. He use to get pretty fussy about that some times, but it's become less of a problem sense moving to the Bar.

Jin and Dabi don't collect anything, nor do either of them have much that could be considered a collection (or much at all)

5. Does your regressed f/o have any gear that they want really bad? If so, what is it?

Tomura and Himiko both get everything they want without question, so neither of them have anything they really really want at the moment and are rather satisfied with their little gear at the moment.

Jin is constantly back and forth about wanting a pacifier. He's worried he'll chew right through it and ruin it, but it'd make it harder to talk making the other him less likely to say something he doesn't agree with (tantrum triggering when they fight), but also he'd have to take off or at least lift his mask to put it in his mouth which can easily trigger an even bigger meltdown than infighting does, but also also he sees his Big Sister Himiko and Baby Brother Tomura each with want and his tiny baby heart is just so over come with jealously he can't contain it. If I got him one, I'm almost sure it'd fix the whole thing, but just cause another problem, so I'm waiting patiently for him to decide himself what he wants.

Dabi doesn't have any little gear and refuses any I've tried to gift to them. They try very hard to push their regression down and ignore it, and they don't want me or anyone else in the League to be apart of it. I try to give them space, but I have hidden a few of little Dabi's favorite snacks around their room, along with some sparklers to play with. They seem content enough with that for now.

6. What is your favorite thing in your regressed f/o’s playroom?

For Tomura it was back at the Mansion, he had a crib with a mobile on it, it was the only thing his father had ever contributed to his Regression space, so of course it was his favorite. It played a lullaby as it spun I'd never heard before, and always put Tomura right to sleep. I wonder if it's still there...

Himiko has a lot of toys, most of which she's stolen from dollar stores and gas stations, but one Jin got her; A 4ft tall Valentine's day Teddy bear. It's big and soft baby pink holding a big red heart. I ended up cutting the heart free from the bear's stomach so now Himiko can wiggle herself behind it and sleep in the bear's arms. It's very cute <3

Jin doesn't have playroom per say, he doesn't have a lot of gear either. Rather than sit still somewhere with toys and games he'd rather follow me, Magne, or Himiko around while regressed. Though out of the few things I've seen him get attached to I think my favorite is the baby blanket Himiko got for him. It USE to be soft baby blue but he won't let me wash it at all and carried it everywhere with him, cries into it, uses it to cover his face, and sleeps with it, so it's gotten pretty grimy and is more of a muted color now. Himiko thinks it's gross now and won't touch it, but I've convinced her not to comment on it, sense if she doesn't like it, Jin is likely to throw it away... and then regret it.

Dabi, much like Jin, doesn't have a little space or many little items. Usually when they regress they lock themselves away in their room and don't come back out until they come out of it, so I don't know what their little space looks like, or anything they might comfort themselves with... I hope they're okay in there...

[uhbasicallyjustmilex]

alex and jamie // alex’s mum and jamie’s dad

[queenie-ofthe-void]

The Babysitter Chronicles - Hopper

Steve POV 5+1 (immediately follows s2) || wc: 4.6k || cws: check tags || full fic ao3

Henderson || Mayfield pt 1 / Mayfield pt 2 || Sinclair || Wheeler || Byers || +1 Hopper

Can be read as a standalone

~~~

It’s Friday night at the Harrington house, which means it’s movie night. Even though this week is Dustin’s turn to pick, Steve can hear the kids arguing all the way from the kitchen. He’s in the middle of prepping snacks and drinks, just waiting on the pizza, when the doorbell rings. 

The arguing stops, and he can hear footsteps running towards the front door.

“Hey,” Steve shouts just as Mike and Max round the corner. “What did I tell you guys about answering the goddamn door?”

“But we know who it is,” Mike argues. “It’s the goddamned pizza man.”

“Language!” Max shouts it the same time Steve does, and he looks over to see her smirking with her hands on her hips. She obnoxiously runs a hand through her hair, pinches the bridge of her nose, and looks up at him. Of course he’s stood the same way.

He rolls his eyes, which only spurs her on as she laughs, running around the corner out of sight before he can bitch her out.

These kids will be the end of him.

The doorbell rings again and again and again.

“Jesus Christ,” Steve sighs, “I’m coming!”

Instead of the pizza man, he opens the door to Police Chief Jim Hopper. Fully uniformed, he stands stiff as a statue, arms crossed and mustache twitching in irritation. The cruiser sits running in the driveway and he’s looming on the front stoop staring him down like every other time he’s busted one of King Steve’s parties.

Anxiety floods his veins as he racks his brain for why the chief is here. He’s not throwing a party. The kids are noisy, sure, but not loud enough to bother the neighbors. He hasn’t drank since his fight with Billy.

Shit.

“Hop. I mean, Chief,” Steve stumbles, panic bubbling in his lungs. “Sir, I swear it was just to help with the pain.”

The Chief drops his arms, one hand moving to pinch his nose while he props the other on his hip. God this is worse than he thought. He hears Max cackle behind him, and he turns to find her watching them from behind the corner of the wall. Having absolutely no idea what she’s on about, he waves her away before Hopper gets even more irritated.

“No really,” Steve pleads, turning back to face Hopper and the consequences of his actions. “I just needed something to help me sleep! Munson said it would help with migraines too so I thought–”

“Munson?” He stares at Steve, eyebrows crinkling in confused frustration. “Why are you buying off him? More importantly, how do you even know he sells? You know what, no, nevermind don’t answer that. Didn’t you get meds from the hospital?”

Steve quickly glances away, shifting his weight as he tries to come up with a response.

“Dammit kid,” Hopper yells. “You told me you were going to go to the hospital.”

“Yeah, I know. I know I did but–”

He catches a brief rustling of fabric behind the Chief that he hadn’t noticed before. Leaning around the left side, Hopper steps out of the way to reveal a young girl with large, brown eyes and curly brown hair. She’s bundled up in an oversized flannel coat over what Steve thinks is another too-large flannel shirt. Actually, most of her clothes look a few sizes too big.

Steve’s never really met El before. They didn’t talk after she saved them all from the demodogs, and she was in-and-out of consciousness when Hopper brought her back after closing the gate. Things had been so chaotic, he’d made a point to go unnoticed as everyone trickled back into the Byers’ house, standing off to the side and out of the way.

For a girl who’s saved the world, she’s more shy than he expected. He smiles and bends over to meet her at eye-level. When she smiles back, he waves at her. She copies him again and giggles, hiding her face behind Hopper’s jacket.

The Chief’s heavy, drawn out sigh pulls Steve’s focus again. He scrubs his hands over his face, like he’s trying to wipe this moment from his memory. 

“Look, kid, I need a favor. Can we come in?”

Steve shows them down the hall and into the TV room where the boys greet her with enthusiastic hugs. He flicks his eyes over to Max, now sitting alone on the couch. She’s watching the boys flit around their friend with a slight frown on her face, but as Steve moves to make introductions, Will plops down next to her. He drops an armful of colored pencils and sketch pads on the table in front of them, and a small smile skates across her face.

Hopefully he can count on Lucas to remember not everyone knows El. If not, Steve will make sure to introduce everyone and ease the tension later.

Hopper leans against the kitchen counter, ankles crossed and arms braced behind him. He fixes Steve with a tense glare which has the boy self-consciously wrapping his arms around his torso, shrinking in on himself. Steve’s never had great relationships with adults or any type of authority. Hopper’s gruff and intimidating, doesn’t put up with bullshit, and he’s a cop for christ’s sake. 

They stare at each other uncomfortably for what feels like hours before Hopper sighs, hard and heavy. “I don’t even know where to start with you, kid.”

Steve flinches, can’t help it after a decade of hearing similar statements from his father, usually followed up by a lecture on how he’s not good enough in some way or another. 

Hopper, like Joyce, catches the movement faster than Steve can recover. “Shit, kid, that’s not–” he sighs again, “I’m not good at this kind of thing. Something that she likes to point out all the time.” A fond smile crosses Hopper’s face as he points a thumb behind him towards the living room.

He doesn’t know what to say to that, unsure what he’s even talking about,  so Steve waits for whatever lecture is barreling his way. Even with the Chief’s smile, he can’t relax.

“Why didn’t you go to the hospital, Steve?” Hopper asks, disappointed. “I asked if you’d go, and you said you would. So why didn’t you.”

“I got the stitches,” Steve snaps, hackles rising in defense, “does it matter where they came from?”

“You lied to me.” Hopper’s voice is rising. “I checked with the nurses, and they didn’t have any intake paperwork under your name.” He’s switched back to detective mode, and Steve feels himself being backed into a wall.

“That’s– that’s illegal, or something. Right? Like–” Steve stumbles his words when he catches Hopper roll his eyes– “you can’t look up my medical stuff.”

The Chief scoffs and bites back, clearly annoyed. “I’ve known over half of the ER nurses for longer than you’ve been alive. So if I ask after one of my own kids, I’m gonna get some goddamn answers.”

It feels like a hit to the head all over again, leaving Steve dazed. His mouth hangs open around words he can’t articulate, and he doesn’t know what to say. 

He’s never thought of Hop as anyone other than the Chief of Police and one of the only two adults in this damn town who know about the Upside Down.

So how’s Steve supposed to respond when Hopper calls him one of my kids? It rings in his head, settles hot behind his eyes. The Chief must notice, because he raises a hand and makes a move toward Steve that sets his heart into a panic. He fumbles for a response before something crazy happens, like getting a hug from an actual, male adult, or god-forbid crying in front of said adult.

“I drove out to Munson’s to buy some pre-rolls. He said if I paid extra his uncle could stitch me up because he was in the army and knows how to do that kind of stuff.” Steve’s rushing to fill the silence, the words tumbling over one another. “I already tried doing it myself–”

“Jesus christ, kid,” Hopper interrupts, muttering under his breath.

“– and I knew it would scar anyways but I couldn’t go to a hospital because they’d call my parents so I paid him a hundred and then Mr. Munson wouldn’t let me leave so they let me stay overnight on the couch.” Steve’s winded by the time he’s done, and sucks in a large breath to keep himself together. Judging by the red splotches on Hopper’s face, he might be feeling the same.

It had been one hell of a night, at least from the bits and pieces Steve actually remembers. The trailer was small and cozy, the space heater lulling him into a post-adrenaline haze. Even though the stitches were painful, Mr. Munson’s hands had been deft, his smile gentle, but his eyes guarded and wary. 

Steve can’t blame him. Most people know the Harrington’s, and it’s not past Steve for him to realize why Mr. Munson would be hesitant to invite him into their home, especially when he was beaten to a pulp. 

But he refused to let Steve go home to an empty house, said it was too dangerous to sleep alone. Munson let out a shriek weirdly reminiscent of Dustin when Wayne refused payment, although Steve still managed to sneak him a twenty for the weed and a few painkillers.

“Wayne’s a good man,” Hopper says. “Guess I’ll owe him one next time I catch his damned nephew out at the quarry again.” He chuckles fondly, eyes fixed on a memory Steve can’t see. But after a moment, Hopper’s back to grilling him. “Joyce mentioned something you said, your folks being gone a lot.”

Even though it’d only been less than a week since he knocked on the Byers’ front door, he’s still surprised she remembers his slip up. It didn’t register as important in the grand scheme of things. At least not in the face of Ms. Byers coming to terms with Will spending time with him.

“They’re home often enough.” Steve's familiar line rolls easy off his tongue. Still, he can’t stop from crossing his arms over his chest as he moves his gaze to the side, pretending his grocery list on the fridge is the most interesting thing in the room. He licks over the small scab leftover on his lip, the only remaining physical evidence of his life’s biggest failure.

“Really?” Hopper says. It’s not a question, so Steve doesn’t answer. “Then tell me where they are, right now. Or the last time you talked to them in person.”

Steve snaps his mouth closed, about to tell the Chief he’d actually talked to his mother on the phone yesterday. She’d called to inform him they’d moved money into his checking account for groceries and cleaning supplies, the house is surely a mess. He’s not actually sure where they are, or if they’re even in the country.

“They’re in Chicago,” Steve lies. Hopper’s already shaking his head.

“No, kid, they’re not.” A rock falls in the pit of Steve’s stomach, dread creeping up the back of his neck as Hopper pushes on. “I got your dad’s secretary's number from the Mayor. They’ve been in New York for three weeks, and they’re headed to Toronto tomorrow for another week and a half.”

“You called them?” Steve practically shouts. He shoots a glance towards the kitchen door. The muted sound of the kids’ arguing filters in from the living room, and it seems they haven’t noticed his outburst. 

Heat’s building behind his eyes, a wet sheen blurring his vision. The scab on his lip is starting to peel again, and he can’t stop the nervous tapping of his foot on the spotless tile floor.

But Hopper’s already clocked Steve’s cresting panic before he can shove the fear back in the box. The Chief holds up his hands, and Steve wonders if he looks like a spooked animal. 

“I didn’t mention you, or what happened. All I said was I needed some legal advice, and wanted to know when they’d be back in town.” Hopper’s tone is quiet, his words measured and slow. His eyes are wide, nervous.

Steve hesitates before looking up at him. “So?” He knows his voice is small, like a sad, pathetic child’s voice. Because even though he knows it doesn’t matter, he’s compelled to ask like he always used to. He wonders if there’ll always be some part of him who waits for a knock on the front door.

He hopes not.

When Hopper only responds with a shake of his head, mouth pinched into a firm line, Steve freezes, body tense. He tilts his head back fruitlessly as the tears drip down his cheeks. Steve presses the palms of his hands into his eyes hard enough to see stars, but it’s still no use. 

It doesn’t help. His lip starts to wobble even as he chews it bloody. There’s a rock lodged in the back of his throat, and his body heaves with a shameful sob that breaks the dam open.

He falls into a crouch on the ground, balanced on the balls of his feet. Hidden from the doorway behind the kitchen counter, he drops his head in his hands. If he can’t will himself to stop, Steve can at least hide himself away, hope Hopper’s uncomfortable enough he just leaves and they can both pretend this never happened.

But instead Steve feels warm, heavy arms sling around his back. He’s being pulled forward and slightly sideways, when his face hits the rough polyester scratch of the Chief’s uniform as he tucks Steve into his side. 

Hopper should be yelling at him to man up, to get it together, to live up to the Harrington name. He should feel embarrassed, ashamed. 

Instead, it’s a paternal warmth Steve’s never experienced. Hopper shushes Steve like a child, tells him over and over that he’s ok, everything’s going to be ok. Except Steve knows that that isn’t true, not always.

“The kids almost died, and it was my fault.” His voice is wet and his words are soaked together through the clog in his throat.

“Steve,” Hopper cuts in, but Steve plows over him like he hadn’t said anything.

“What if Max hadn’t stopped him, and he’d killed Lucas?” Steve’s shaking, gasping for breath. “I should’ve fought him off, thrown him off me when he pinned me to the ground.” He can faintly hear Hopper telling him to breathe, but he sounds so far away and Steve’s lungs are collapsing and his heart is pounding, pounding, pounding. 

He’s vomiting words he’s tried so hard to keep locked away, spilling them all over the kitchen floor for everyone to see how sick and fucked up Steve Harrington really is when no one’s looking. “Billy smiled when I hit him, screamed like it was fun when he smashed that plate on my head. He just kept hitting me and hitting me and hitting me. And– and it hurt. Everything hurt.”

“Steve,” Hop whispers into the top of his head. It’s scary, how soft it feels.

“Hop, I– ” Steve chokes, forcing the confession out of his chest with all the strength he’s got left– “I think I almost died.”

The gruff man doesn’t say anything. His large hand moves to cradle the back of Steve’s head as he continues to fall apart in his overly large arms. Hop’s stomach is squishy like a pillow, but Steve can still hear the guy’s strong, steady heartbeat from where his head is laid on his chest.

Steve hones in on the sound, matches his breathing to the pulse until he’s calmed. Exhausted, he moves to pull away, and Hop finally lets him. When they stand up, Steve notices Hop’s eyes are wet, although his cheeks are dry.

Hopper opens and closes his mouth a few times before dragging his hands down his face. He sniffles, loud and gross like a man who’s not used to being around people. It’s a little disgusting, and Steve can’t help but scoff at the sound. Hopper peaks out at him over the edges of his fingers where they drag down his eyes. 

The doorbell chimes throughout the house, and the shuffling of scattered feet break out from the living room. Before Steve can turn away, the kitchen door swings open.

It’s El, slowly exploring the kitchen with curious eyes before settling on the men across the kitchen. She tilts her head to the side, examining Steve like she’s carefully cataloguing his blotchy cheeks, the snot still clinging to the tip of his nose, his mussed up hair and labored breaths. 

She moves towards him, preparing to say something, when Mike shouts from the foyer, “nevermind, El, we found the money on the table” yet she doesn’t make a move to rejoin them. She’s still staring at Steve, still moving closer. 

Hopper’s watching her carefully but doesn’t say anything, so Steve doesn’t do anything. He’s trapped in her big, brown eyes, and maybe that’s one of her super powers, putting people in a trance by being too adorable.

“You’re sad, Steve,” she asks, a lilt in her slightly monotone voice.

He clears his throat. “Yes. Yeah, I am.” Steve drags his sleeve across his face so hard that it reddens.

El’s smile is gentle, but without a trace of pity or teasing, like he’d get from the other kids. Well, except maybe Will.

She reaches out to grab his hand and says, like she’s repeating a mantra that’s told to her over and over, “everyone gets sad sometimes, and that’s ok” and Steve does his best not to cry again. He squeezes her tiny hand in his, and she squeezes back.

“El, honey,” Hopper says, sniffling again like he’s sucking a noodle up through his nose. El scrunches her nose and visibly shutters at the noise. When she catches Steve’s matchin expression, they break out into a fit of giggles. Hopper only rolls his eyes at them. “Can you keep the kids busy so they don’t come in here?”

She nods.

“Without telling them why,” Steve pleads.

Her eyebrows pinch together, lips puckered into a frown. “But friends don’t lie.”

“Sometimes it’s to keep someone safe,” Hopper answers her unspoken question.

El tilts her head again, this time to the other side as she considers his argument. Steve’s compelled to defend himself, he doesn’t need to be kept safe from the kids. But he also doesn’t want to listen to their incessant teasing, so he keeps his objections to himself.

She looks over her shoulder towards the noise, shouting now about where to find paper plates and napkins. Mike’s bitching can be heard above the rest, and Steve catches El rolling her eyes. “Sometimes they are mouth-breathers too.”

Steve’s not sure what that means, but Hopper barks out a laugh and she giggles like she said a swear word. But she squeezes his hand again and leaves. 

It’s official, the girls are his favorites.

“Alright kid, listen up, because I’ve got a deal for you.” Hopper looks completely unphased, like the last ten minutes never happened. Steve can still feel the heat splotched on his neck and cheeks, the burn in the back of his throat. He doesn’t think he’ll forget this for a long time.

“I thought you needed a favor?”

“Yeah, well, now it’s an ultimatum. And you’re going to take it.”

Steve scoffs, amused at the surety of Hopper’s tone and the glint in his eye. The man must be waiting for him to respond, but Steve just raises his eyebrow. Hopper lets out an unflattering snort, but takes the hint to continue.

He appreciates the change in tone, thinks maybe Hopper did it on purpose. Like he was just as anxious and awkward as Steve felt. But now, back on familiar ground, Steve’s lighter than he’s felt in months.

“You’re going to babysit El.” Hopper says it like it’s a fact, like Steve’s already agreed to it. Like it’s not a big deal to have someone like El out in the general public when none of them are even entirely sure she’s safe in Hawkins.

Steve knew the moment he left the Munson’s trailer, fresh as a bruised peach with swollen stitches in his forehead, that he was going to put himself in charge of the kids. Planned on going to Dustin’s the very next day to talk with Claudia about it.

He’d strategized and planned each parent down to the details– other than Mike, which was a bit of a disaster. Some of them took more convincing than others, but in the end they’d all given him a chance to prove himself capable. It’s everything Steve’s hoped for.

But he’d never even considered El. Not because he doesn’t know her, even though it’s true. Steve didn’t really know Will either, yet that didn’t stop Steve from including the kid in his plans.

No he just never thought to ask after El because he thought it was, like, illegal. She’s more than just an awkward pre-teen girl. She’s a superhero, she’s on the run, she doesn’t go to school, barely sees the Party. Steve just assumed El was off limits.

She doesn’t need protection… does she?

A hard hand clasped on his shoulder breaks Steve’s daze.

“If the last year has taught me anything, Steve, is that she deserves to live her life around people that care about her. El needs her friends– even goddamned Wheeler.” Hopper huffs, rolls his eyes and, yeah, Steve can empathize. Mike is exhausting. “But she’s just a kid, and I need to leave her with someone I can trust. Some place where I know she’s safe and will be protected at all costs.”

Steve feels vibrations begin to rack through his body again. He can’t bear to cry a second time, can’t handle having to explain to Hop that he’s going to have to find someone else to fit all of those criteria. Because clearly the man wasn’t listening when Steve explained how he almost died failing to save the kids. But before he can argue, Hopper cuts him off.

“I know what you’re thinking, Steve. You protected those kids the best you could, better than anyone else in your situation would’ve been able. You put yourself between them and death more than once that night. That’s not something everyone’s got in them, kid. That’s something special– and it’s exactly what El needs. What I need.”

“I mean, of course. I’d love– thank you.” Hop shakes his head, again cutting Steve off mid-blabber.

“The ultimatum, kid, remember?” He waits until Steve nods before he explains himself. “The deal is, if you’re watching her for me, then you’re going to let me watch out for you too.”

That brings Steve to a halt. His brow pinches together as he puzzles out what exactly Hop means by watching out for him too. He just said he trusts Steve enough to watch El, but now it sounds almost as if he’s backtracking.

“Jesus I can hear the gears in your head cranking away, Harrington.” Hopper drops his other hand on Steve’s shoulder. He’s being held in place by two massive mitts on his shoulders and he can’t figure out if the weight is a comfort or a prison.

“I don’t get it,” Steve says, shaking his head.

The Chief exhales rough through his nose, and hangs his head. Anxiety sparks through Steve again until Hop shakes him lightly.

“If El’s going to be hanging around here, that means sometimes I’m going to be hanging around here, and you’re going to let me,” Hopper says with a small smirk on his face. “You’re going to let me bring groceries over and cook dinner while you do your homework. You’re going to come by the cabin every once in a while to watch the basketball game. You’re also going to tell me when your parents call or when they’re in town”

Steve knows there’s more to Hopper’s torturously long list of conditions, but he doesn’t want to hear it. The Chief’s grip is a firm hold as he tries to break loose. “Look, Chief, I don’t need someone–”

“And!” Hopper shouts, a manic grin spreads across his face. It’s such a stark contrast to the man’s normal scowl it stops Steve in his tracks. Hopper’s expression is wild, like he’s enjoying Steve’s feeble attempts at defending himself. “Holidays are a requirement, Harrington. Hot cocoa, old Christmas movies, decorating the tree. New Year’s Eve. Birthdays. All of it.”

Steve’s at a loss for words. He knows what this is, can spot a shakedown when he sees one. Except this doesn’t feel hostile, not like when his dad always threatened to take the car away if Steve didn’t medal in swimming or score during a game. This is uncomfortable, but– nice? 

A lot like how this entire conversation has been.

“Umm,” Steve tries, “I can’t leave–”

“Don’t argue with me, Steve.”

“Can I bring Max?” Steve asks as Hopper stares at him. “To the holidays, and stuff. I’ll do it if I can bring Max too.”

Hopper’s manic grin fades into a more genuine smile as he stands upright. He pulls Steve into another hug before releasing him to ruffle his hair. Steve squawks, immediately mortified at how Dustin-esque it sounds. 

“Of course you can bring Max.”

They make their way back to the living room and sure enough, the pizza is already almost gone. Scraps of crust and dirty napkins litter the floor. The coffee table is a mess of colored pencils, crayons, sketch pads, and pencils. 

He’s worried it’s still awkward between the kids, and hopes El’s ok with Hopper leaving her here for a few hours. She still doesn’t know Steve, doesn’t know Will or Max either. But when he notices the Party, his anxieties melt from his shoulders. He can’t help the smile that crinkles his eyes at the sight of them

Will’s sitting facing the group, drawing a giant purple dragon with a small castle off in the distance. Steve notices each kid has a sketchpad. Some are rather good, close to matching Will’s– Lucas and Max– while others could use some work– Dusin, El, and Mike.

But they’re laughing as Max draws a comically large skateboard under her green dragon. El’s sat between her and Mike, eyes wide and intense as Max promises to show off her skateboard the next time she sees her. 

He hears the soft click of the front door behind him, and the rumbling of Hopper’s truck as it pulls out of the driveway. Dustin catches sight of him, practically scrambles to his feet as he drags Steve into the living room, yanking him down in the open spot next to him and thrusts a sketchpad in Steve’s hands.

Lucas hands him a plate with two pieces of pepperoni he saved just for Steve, and Dustin helps him catch up before Will shows them how to draw a knight. El finds Steve a yellow colored pencil when he can’t find one. Max crawls to sit next to him and smacks Mike on the back of the head when he says Steve’s castle looks haunted, little wisps of chimney smoke mistaken for ghosts.

It’s nothing. 

It’s just a seventeen year old boy, sitting in the middle of a gaggle of kids, coloring and eating pizza and making each other laugh. Settled and relaxed in a way he never expected after the horrors from the past year. And he knows, without a doubt, he’d do it all over again if it meant he’d end up right here.  It’d be nothing to most people but it’s everything to Steve, because for the first time in his life, he’s well and truly happy.

[bloomingkyras]

Raylan K. Rodriguez for Total Drama Sims: Season 3 by @jonquilyst

Meet Rosemary's step bro or half blood brother, Raylan K. Rodriguez who is officially 16 and He will join TDS 3 this time.

No one force him, maybe he got inspired by the winner of TDS2 Liana Morris to join the competition. And this boy..I told u, he is a competitors. He likes to challenge himself by doing sports, taking his bike to help his mama Carmen, to send her bake of goods to the customer. And he also secretly doing modeling to get some pocket money to buy what ever he wants. As he prepare to pack his belong in for the competition, he got a sad news that both dad and mama had passed away in an accident. He devastated and decided not to go, but both his sister Rosé and Olive an courage him to go and compete the competition for their beloved parent. They are his truly support systems and he bless having them.

So, let get him pack again and enjoy the competition.

he have cc with his genetic but I use ea pack that mostly u have for his outfit.

he already have some skill,since he is one of my legacy spare.

I don't really mind, if he got attracted to any of the competitor and maybe they can work for future 🤭

hmm what else..I just hope he enjoy the challenge and make new friends. And maybe win again 😜 (kidding guys)

that its..thanks for let me in the competition again. And hope u enjoy having him in the competition. And have fun and good luck!! ❤

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[bunnymajo]

A compilation of my lovely scrunkly kids