#This is going to live rent-free in my head

[ynnova]

( 🌐 ) ─── MOMENTS FROM Y/N’S 3AM LIVESTREAMS THAT LIVE RENT FREE IN MY HEAD

word count : 1.9k | bullet - point format

[ overview of y/n's livestreams ]

3am livestreams aren't uncommon when it comes to you

you usually always do these behind the company's back and it entails you doing several different things like:

gaming – often playing horror games in the dark

atiny have clips from when you played all of outlast and how terrified you were

side note: you couldn't sleep alone for the next two weeks after playing outlast

singing – this is rare because the last time you tired singing it was when you and atiny got into an argument over shrek 2's "i need a hero" and whether or not its the best animated musical number in existence

spoiler alert: it is and you still refuse to apologize for calling atiny uncultured over it

tier list – you've done a few like ranking barbie movie villains or fnaf ucn dialogues

emotional rants and sleep deprived rants – you should be asleep but you aren't

[ clip #1 : animated musical number debate ]

time has clearly passed when the clip starts

you have a slight crazed look in your eyes as you stare at the camera, eyes watching the chat

pretty sure your eye twitched at some point during the long silence

your hair was messy from having run your fingers through it several times – maybe pulled it a few times in angry

a half-eaten snack laid next to you – forgotten

y/n: no. i'm being serious, "i need a hero" from shrek 2 is THE best musical number in all of animated movie history

your eyes watch the chat explode in response

y/n: what the he��� what do you mean "under the sea" is better?? what kind of uncultured swine says the little mermaid is better than shrek 2!!!

y/n: that's literally the BEST sequel in existence!! i can't believe you people

you then grab your ipad – another moment a silence passing through as you are aggressively tapping on your ipad's screen

then you are turning the volume UP before turning the ipad around so atiny can watch the shrek 2 scene.

y/n: this scene is a masterpiece – if you don't agreed then you are uncultured and your bias doesn't love you

chat immediately started screaming in chat but you ignored them

lipsinging the words of not only the song but the entire scene

you had it memorized

you called atiny who disagreed with you uncultured a few more times before you ended the live in anger – some cuss words in both korean, japanese, and english left your lips

you were promptly banned from having any solo lives for the next few months

but did that really stop you 🤷‍♀️

[ clip #2 : playing outlast so y/n losses her mind ]

your room was shrouded in complete darkness

the only light coming from your monitor and it wasn't enough

anyone watching could see the fear in your eyes

y/n: i am a grown woman, i can do this.

y/n: i'm not scared... okay, i'm gonna start... 😣

atiny: you sure about that??

is a completely mess from beginning to end

but you did it

you played outlast in one entire livestream

def screamed several times during the jumpscares – and when you get jumpscared... you jump

at one point yunho came in and sat next to you as some sort of comfort

yunho: why don't i turn on your lamp so you aren't completely in the dark

y/n: noooooo 😣 that ruins the atmosphere!!

yunho leaves to go back to bed, telling you "don't scare yourself too much"

would pause the game every time you got scared

atiny were actually surprised you finished the game at the rate you were going 😮‍💨

atiny: are you going to play the dlc and sequel

y/n: are you insane!? i barely survived this game! i'm not gonna sleep for a week, goodnight you weirdos.

[ clip #3 : relationship advice stream ]

starts off pretty normal – honestly wouldn't guess this was a 3am livestream

this one was livestreamed in a hotel room – you clearly tired from a day of schedules

but you were powering through it – blanket wrapped around you and tea in a cute mug you recently bought in your hands

glasses perched on your nose

especially after you noticed one atiny asking relationship advice

atiny: my boyfriend and i are in a long distance relationship, any advice??

y/n: communication i would say is a big thing. not just texting everyday, but making sure to have real conversation. talking about things you would in any other relationship. i think also making sure to make time for each other every now and then. virtual dates, sending each other small gifts – celebrating the small wins and not just the big victories.

and then the livestream developed into you giving relationship advice for the next 40 minutes

and then–

atiny: what's your and san's relationship like? does he spoil you? do you guys argue?

you couldn't help but laugh when you read that question

y/n: i think our relationship is at a good point right now. we've been together for a few years now and really now how to communicate and talk to each other about our problems. we also know when to give each other space – like on days off, we don't always spend those days together.

you can't help but smile at the thought of san and how much you love him

y/n: he spoils me a lot – always has. he buys me my favorite snacks all the time and lets me lay my head on his shoulder and play with his hands when i'm bored or nervous.

oh, girl, you are so in love.

y/n: i don't think we've had a serious argument in a long time. when we do then its about one of us pushing ourselves too much and not taking a break. when i had my stage accident, i think that's when our relationship hit a bump because san was worried about me... but we communicate and talk it out which helps.

y/n: i couldn't imagine not having sannie in my life ☺️

[ clip #4 : the kiss ]

the clip starts with you sitting on your bed, phone propped up like usual as you are talking with atiny – some lofi music playing through your small speaker by the bed

loud enough for atiny to hear, but not loud enough for it to be disruptive for the others in the dorm

everything is going like how it usually is with you talking about what you've been up to lately

but without spoiling anything too major in ateez's schedule

you're sitting crossed leg on your bed, ipad in lap when your bedroom door slowly opens

at first it doesn't catch your attention – you too invested in fixing the graphic you've been making for your digital journal

atiny immediately see the person enter your room and recognize them as san

chat starts to explode, but you still haven't noticed

you jump a little when san places a hand on your back – looking up to meet his sleepy eyes

y/n: what are you doing babe?

san: i should be asking you that

you grin at him and he smiles back before leaning down and capturing your lips in a kiss

you are completely caught off guard

atiny are screaming in chat – fans already screen-recording the entire thing

and san none the wiser about your livestream

you pull away looking at him shocked and san is so confuse

y/n: i'm live!

silence.

neither of you say anything for about ten seconds – just staring at each other before you are reaching over and–

livestream has ended.

[ clip #5 : "why are you 🫵 still awake?" ]

you are sitting on your bed, showing your bullet journal you've been working on to atiny

you really looked like a teacher reading a book to her class

you were talking about how you've been working on it between schedules and during downtime at fansigns and such

y/n: i've seen junk journals have been trending and they look cool. think i might try and start one in the next month

atiny told you, you should do it

as you're in the middle of talking, you immediately stop

eyes go wide as your head turns towards your bedroom door

y/n: uh-oh 😳

atiny: WHAT WHAT WHAT!??!?!?

y/n: he's home...

atiny immediately knew who you were talking about–

hongjoong

they couldn't hear it, but you could hear the dorm door opening and closing and hongjoong walking down the hallway

atiny had never seen you try to turn everything off so fast

like you were trying to trick hongjoong into thinking you were asleep

but then your door opens and you freeze – atiny watching thought it was frozen because you refused to move

hongjoong came into frame and the two of you just looked at each other

silence – did it freeze again??

y/n: why are you coming home so late?! 🫵🫵🫵 do you have any idea what time it is

hongjoong was APPALLED by your comment

hongjoong: do i have any idea what time it is?? do you have any idea what time it is?!

he then notices the livestream and glares at you

hongjoong: and are you livestreaming!? didn't i tell you to stop doing that at this hour!

y/n: mind your business! i was just about to end it–

lies

the clip continues with you and hongjoong going back and forth with each other before he makes you end the livestream to go to bed

y/n: he's using his leader powers guys 😔

[ clip #6 : sleepy y/n and seonghwa ]

the clip starts with you laying in bed, phone propped up on your bedside

you are clearly on your way to sleepland but are answering atiny's questions

atiny watching can hear your bedroom door creak open and your eyes look to see who is entering

you immediately perk up at however just came in – the person chuckles softly at your reaction

their hand coming out to pat your head and that's when he comes into frame

seonghwa – in his pajamas and hair slightly tousled from sleep

seonghwa: why are you still awake, y/nnie? go to sleep.

y/n: i'm talking to atiny!

seonghwa: you're going to make yourself sick if you stay up too late.

as you and him go back and forth, atiny gush over seonghwa's caring nature

atiny: omg seonghwa is so cute trying to get y/n to sleep

y/n: why don't you stay with me for a bit? you can keep me company while i finish answering questions! then i'll go to bed, promise!

all previous sleepiness had seemingly disappeared

seonghwa: i'm not indulging in your poor sleep habits, but fine 😮‍💨

seonghwa settles in beside you and chat explodes

atiny: SEONGHWA IN THE 3AM LIVE NOW WOOHOO

y/n: don't act too excited guys 😒

the live continues with you answering questions – you leaning against seonghwa

slowly your energy starts to leave you once more and seonghwa is already closing his eyes

blanket covering the both of you

seonghwa is quickly falling asleep, turning over and clearly getting comfortable

he isn't going anywhere anytime soon 😪

and you're not far behind him – eyes closing and mindlessly snuggling into seonghwa

stealing his body heat

atiny are absolutely losing it in chat over the two of you falling asleep together

the livestream didn't end until your phone eventually died which was promptly two hours after you and seonghwa fell asleep.

[jyeoulzhu]

skill issue

summary . y/n, a streamer, gets destroyed in overwatch by karina, a top player. what starts as playful rivalry turns into something more, ending with karina soft-launching their relationship on stream.

pairing . yu jimin (karina) x male reader

note . inspired by someone's work here on tumblr i forgot their user and i can't find it anymore. also a karina oneshot.. so if you know them please tag them 😓🙏

y/n had always been the type to chill at the local comshop with his boys, grinding ranked games and talking shit like it was their second home. it was their routine, their escape from the chaos of school and whatever else life threw at them. but tonight… tonight was different.

the atmosphere was tense as y/n, mingyu, intak, and juyeon locked in their heroes on overwatch. the four of them were known in the comshop—decent players, occasional streamers on twitch, and absolute menaces when it came to voice comms. but this match? this was pure hell.

the opposing widowmaker was untouchable. every peek was met with an instant headshot. every attempt to dive her ended in death. they couldn’t even step out of spawn without getting sniped.

headshot. headshot. headshot.

“who the hell is this guy?” y/n groaned as his character dropped dead for the tenth time.

“nah, bro, this ain’t normal,” mingyu said, visibly stressed.

“i can’t even step out of spawn,” juyeon added.

the chat in their stream was going wild.

—

chat: WHO TF IS KRNXP????

chat: they’re farming y’all like npcs 💀

chat: uninstall, bro

—

y/n leaned into his mic. “yo, if you’re watching this… dm me. i just wanna talk.”

seconds later, the enemy widowmaker hit another headshot.

[krnxp] (widowmaker): stay mad.

y/n stared at his screen, jaw dropped.

“bro. she replied. she fucking replied,” y/n whispered, eyes wide with panic.

mingyu screamed. “SHE??? KRNXP IS A GIRL???”

“wait… no… don’t tell me this is—”

“karina,” juyeon said, dead serious. “top player. undefeated. literal legend.”

y/n sat there in disbelief. he’d been simping for karina for months. and now? he just got farmed by her.

“holy shit… i just got violated by my comfort streamer,” y/n whispered.

mingyu immediately grabbed his phone. “NO WAY. SHE JUST COOKED YOU ON MAIN.”

“nah, you can’t let this slide,” intak said, hyping him up.

“1v1 her,” juyeon added, completely serious.

y/n blinked. “are you guys insane? i’d get smoked.”

“exactly,�� juyeon smirked. “get humbled, then bag her.”

—

the 1v1 lobby loaded.

“you nervous?” karina’s voice echoed through the comms, cool and unbothered.

y/n muted his mic and screamed into his hoodie.

“bro, she’s flirting. i’m gonna pass out,” he whispered to his friends.

y/n’s hands were literally trembling on his mouse. this wasn’t just any 1v1. this was karina. the girl who single-handedly destroyed him and had been living rent-free in his head for months.

“you good over there?” karina’s voice echoed through the comms, smooth and low.

y/n choked on air.

“me? yeah. totally fine,” he lied, already spiraling.

the match started.

three seconds in, y/n peeked. instant headshot.

he stared blankly at the killcam.

karina giggled. “cute.”

y/n’s soul officially left his body.

—

chat: LMFAOOOO

chat: HE’S FOLDED ALREADY

chat: nah bro’s in love

—

“oh my god,” y/n muttered, fully spiraling.

karina giggled. “you’re cute when you panic.”

y/n’s brain: system error.

—

after getting absolutely obliterated 20-3, y/n was done.

“you let me get three kills out of pity, huh?” he asked in defeat.

karina smirked. “maybe.”

y/n wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out.

intak threw his headset. “NAH THIS IS INSANE.”

—

after that night, karina started showing up in y/n’s streams.

“yo, why is krnxp in our game again?” mingyu asked during one match.

“nah, bro… she’s stalking you,” intak teased.

y/n? he was already in love.

—

the slow burn was real.

karina would randomly hop into y/n’s ranked games, casually carrying while y/n tried (and failed) to impress her.

“dude, why do you keep playing genji if you can’t aim?” she teased.

“i’m trying to look cool…” y/n mumbled.

—

one night, y/n was streaming when the door behind him creaked open.

“yo, who just came in?”

everyone expected it to be one of the boys.

but no.

karina casually walked into frame… wearing his hoodie.

chat exploded.

—

chat: HELLO??????

chat: WE WON. WE SOFT LAUNCHED.

chat: Y/N, YOU’RE COOKING.

—

y/n ended stream in pure panic.

“bro, you just exposed us to 10k viewers,” y/n said.

karina smirked, stealing his drink. “should’ve locked your door.”

[dreamauri]

I saw the can't pay rent with Max and it was so cute! Can you do one with Lando?

♪ — 𝗥𝗘𝗡𝗧 𝗙𝗥𝗘𝗘 lando norris x girlfriend! reader ( crack, fluff ) fic summary . . . Because pranking your boyfriend is fun, why not take it up a notch and give him a heart attack by telling him you can’t pay rent? Except—plot twist—you don’t even pay rent. But it’s Lando Norris, so of course, he falls for it . . . mostly

( my master list | more of lando norris ) ( requests )

Lando was sprawled on the couch, legs kicked up, aimlessly scrolling through his phone when you wandered into the living room, wearing your best distressed expression. He barely glanced up, but you knew he would the moment you dropped the bomb.

"Hey, uh… I don’t think I can pay rent this month."

Lando didn’t even blink, still staring at his screen. "You don’t even pay rent," he muttered, brows furrowing slightly before looking up at you.

You gasped, clutching your chest. "Excuse me? Yes, I do!"

He squinted at you, tilting his head like a confused golden retriever. "No, you don’t."

"Yes, I do."

"No, you don’t—"

"Yes, I do, Lando! Every month!" You crossed your arms, trying to look as offended as possible. "What, do you think I just live here for free?"

His frown deepened, and now you had his full attention. Hook, line, and sinker.

"Wait… have you actually been paying rent?" he asked, sitting up straighter.

You nodded solemnly, biting your lip like you were holding back the crushing weight of financial stress.

Lando looked genuinely horrified. "One, you should not be paying rent." He started counting on his fingers. "Two, never pay rent again. Three, don't worry, I’ll pay the full rent this month—actually, every month. And four—what’s wrong? Why wouldn’t you be able to pay rent?"

You pressed your lips together, trying not to crack, but the sheer sincerity in his voice was making it so difficult.

"Things are just… tight, you know?" You sighed dramatically. "Expenses are adding up, and—"

"Expenses?! What expenses?! You don’t pay for anything here!" He gestured wildly at the apartment.

You shrugged. "Rent."

Lando’s mouth fell open, realization hitting him like a freight train. He stared at you for a second, then blinked, then stared again.

"You’re messing with me, aren’t you?"

You lost it, doubling over in laughter. "Took you long enough!"

His expression twisted into one of pure betrayal. "Wait a second—wait, wait, wait. Is this that stupid TikTok prank?"

Your lips twitched. "What TikTok prank?"

"You muppet!" Lando shot up from the couch, immediately chasing after you.

Squealing, you grabbed a pillow and smacked him in the chest, trying to fend him off. He barely flinched, catching your wrist and pulling you into him.

“You were scamming me!” he accused, punctuating his words with a kiss on your forehead.

“I wasn’t scamming you!” You gasped between laughs, trying to push him away.

“You were!” Another kiss, this time on your nose.

“You fell for it so hard.”

Lando groaned, shaking his head, but his hands stayed firm on your waist. “What am I going to do with you, hm? Making jokes like that? Scamming me?” He kissed you again, this time lingering against your lips.

“I prefer ‘playfully deceiving,’” you murmured, grinning against his mouth.

He chuckled, pressing his forehead to yours. “You’re so lucky I love you.”

[deansbeer]

𓂃𓈒 pretty little distractions !

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 adult content ; minors go away.

♡ synopsis. jason comes home exhausted from night patrolling gotham, only to find you waiting in a tiny pink lace dress—exactly what he didn't expect.

♡ warning(s). teasing, suggestiveness, playful intimacy, strong language.

♡ kari notes. i hope u enjoy whatever this is <3 he lives rent free in my head w his roommate deano teeeheee and i did my best to write him as well as i could ???? so please don't be a dick. thanks <3

it's late—or early, really—when you hear the familiar sound of heavy boots against the rooftop outside your apartment window. your heart immediately flutters, knowing exactly who it is. jason's finally home from his patrol, safe and sound, and the relief floods you instantly, easing the quiet worry you've been carrying all night.

you've spent the evening alone, bored and restless, trying to distract yourself. eventually, you'd decided to try on the pretty little pink lace dress you'd bought earlier on impulse, just to see how it looked.

you'd planned to surprise jason with it tomorrow, but the soft fabric felt too nice against your skin to take off right away. you'd lounged around in it, waiting for him, and now clothes are scattered all over the bedroom floor—his sweats, your t-shirt, and a pile of laundry you'd forgotten to fold earlier.

he'll tease you about it for sure, the mess you've left behind, but you can't bring yourself to care. all that matters is he's home now, safe and yours again.

you’re still lost in thought, absently bending over to pick your clothes up from the floor, completely unaware of just how exposed you are in your tiny dress.

the soft lace barely covers your ass, riding up each time you lean forward. you're so distracted you don't even hear the bedroom window slide open, or the quiet intake of breath behind you as jason slips inside.

"well, damn."

his voice—low and rough and entirely unexpected—startles you, making you jump slightly. you stand quickly, spinning to face him, heart hammering in your chest.

he's leaning casually against the windowsill, still fully suited up in his red hood gear, helmet already removed and resting loosely in his gloved hand. his dark hair is slightly sweaty, messy from patrol, and those piercing green eyes are locked firmly onto you, completely darkened with heat.

"jay," you breathe, relief and excitement flooding your body at once. "you're home."

his gaze rakes slowly over you, lingering appreciatively on the sheer lace hugging your curves, before he meets your eyes again, a cocky smirk tugging at his full lips. "yeah, sweetheart," he drawls, voice dripping with amusement and hunger.

"and here i thought patrol was exhausting. but coming home to find you bent over like that? fuck, that's enough to wake me right back up."

your cheeks flush hotly, suddenly hyper-aware of how little your dress actually covers. you bite your lip, feeling equal parts shy and exhilarated under his intense stare. "didn't realize you'd be back yet," you admit softly, glancing down with a small, shy smile. "figured i'd clean up before you got home."

he chuckles lowly, setting his helmet carefully aside and stepping closer, eyes never leaving yours. "oh, trust me, doll. i ain't complaining."

you swallow thickly, heart racing faster as he closes the distance between you. he reaches out, gloved fingers gently brushing along the delicate lace at your hip, his thumb teasing the bare skin just beneath.

your breath hitches sharply at his touch, warmth pooling deep and hot inside you. "this new?" he murmurs, voice rough with desire, his eyes burning into yours. "don't think i've seen it before."

you nod slowly, feeling a little breathless. "bought it today. wanted to surprise you."

he hums approvingly, fingers tightening gently on your hip, his other hand moving to cup your cheek tenderly. "consider me surprised," he whispers huskily, thumb brushing softly along your jaw. "fuck, you look good enough to eat."

you shiver at the intensity behind his words, heat flaring between your thighs. your fingers instinctively curl into the heavy fabric of his jacket, pulling him closer. "missed you," you whisper softly, eyes searching his face. "i was so worried."

his gaze softens slightly, thumb continuing to brush gently over your flushed skin. "i'm fine, sweetheart. always am," he reassures quietly, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. "and i'm home now. right where i belong."

you tilt your head up, capturing his lips in a deep, hungry kiss, needing to feel him close, to reassure yourself he's really here. he kisses you back eagerly, lips moving hotly against yours, his strong arms wrapping securely around your waist. when you finally break apart for air, he's breathing heavily, eyes darkened even further with desire.

"goddamn, baby," he groans softly against your mouth, his voice rougher, hungrier now. "this dress… did you even see how short it is?"

you laugh breathlessly, biting your lip playfully. "maybe i did."

his eyes narrow slightly, a playful smirk tugging at his lips as he grips your hips, turning you gently around until you're facing away from him.

he gently pushes you forward, bending you slightly over the bed, his hands sliding up your thighs, bunching the soft lace even higher. he sucks in a sharp breath behind you, fingertips gripping your ass appreciatively.

"fuckin' hell, sweetheart," he groans roughly, voice strained with pure want. "you know exactly what you're doing, don't you?"

you glance back over your shoulder, smiling innocently, heart pounding wildly with excitement. "and if i do?"

he laughs breathlessly, eyes blazing with heat as he leans over you, lips brushing hotly against your ear. "then you're gonna take responsibility for driving me fucking crazy."

you shiver, arching slightly back against him, feeling him pressed hard and eager against you already. "think i can handle that," you whisper softly, grinning playfully.

jason chuckles softly, pressing a heated kiss to your shoulder, his fingers tightening possessively on your skin.

"good," he growls lowly, voice dripping with promise. "because tonight? that little dress isn't coming off anytime soon."

[notebooks-and-laptops]

In the better Veilguard that lives in my head rent free, we actually do get a companion betrayal and it's HARDING.

So firstly, I like this because it would make the line about needing to find people Solas doesn't know in order to go after him actually mean something. The one person working closely with us who was hanging around skyhold and knew Solas before is the weak link.

Secondly, some of Harding's characterisation worked for me, but like others I'm left feeling that she was...toned down? They suddenly lean heavily into her being young, people pleasing, almost shy? Which just isn't the vibes I got from one of our lead scouts/spies in inquisition.

But if some of that was an ACT that would have been really clever. We could have had it so she was acting 'soft' in order to win trust and appear like she wasn't only sharing the bare minimum.

I think her being an agent of Solas would ALSO help in terms making Solas feel like the leader of a big movement not just a lone wolf.

I think you could even link this to the titans storyline because there could be something surrounding either a) Solas was lying to her and the knowledge is actually a betrayal or b) Solas has promised when the veil comes down it will help fix the Titians.

[public-relations-representative]

finally getting brave enough to use this blog. hopefully will keep using it i make 0 promises though

anyway. BEHOLD. my winston headcanon designs

more extensive thoughts/headcanons and doodles belowww

i know a lot of people dont agree but as far as im concerned, shes always been a skelecog. she was built specifically for COGS inc pretty much as is

besides the radio head. that happened later, but still before they made moves into toontown. yes hes been a part of the company that long

has actual radio functions built into them. the intent is for him to be able to tap into existing radio broadcasts as a literal live advertisement. insidious!

i dont have many thoughts on this design because this is borderline "canon" winston. besides the eyelashes. which they should give him canonically.

no i havent figured out what the dagger is logically. its just a part of her ok

i guess i could talk about personality headcanons but i wont. yet. i need some content for other posts if i want to keep this blog alive

winston is in the dungeon for a LOOOONG time. im talking over 5 years baby. id make her more visually fucked up but i dont want to make details mcgee more complex to draw

if i was powerful id make more of her visually broken and those joint problems external in some way. thats for someone else to do though

several of her other not visible functions are long broken; plenty of her internal systems have long gone non-functional, including her radar, propellor, and ability to access some of her internal databanks (ie: memory)

her balance, visual and audio processors (sight/hearing) and control of her limbs fail occasionally too. her voicebox is broken (we know this) but it hasnt entirely failed.

system errors are effectively like an abscence seizure. BSOD for robots, basically

if im being realistic the whole glitching through walls shouldnt exist with how seriously im taking him. but it does anyway because i like fun

WHEELCHAIR WINSTON

this idea has lived rent free in my head for years its about time i got round to this

anyway while shes in the dungeon they do just effectively get fired on paper after a while; so when they show their face back up for real, he does just get fired officially for reals

he ends up finding refuge with old friends; william and alton. im not getting into my awesome dynamics with them here but they were close before the dungeon happened

he gets semi-patched up by will, whos learned some level of self maintenance thanks to his horrible leaky suit. will isn't familiar with skelecog maintenance though, so he could only fix some of his simpler problems

besides the external patch-ups, shes managed to get some simpler system fixes from him, enough to at least help with the frequent system errors and the glitching problems. theyre both still present, but not as severe.

everything else is still a problem though. in fact, some of them have gotten worse, particularly with his arms and legs. theyre prone to fail on a moments notice, and she tends not to go far without some sort of mobility device after a while.

IN SUPER DENIAL ABOUT BEING FIRED. he takes up a bunch of hobbies to keep himself busy now they dont have a job and makes herself a scarf in bootleg sellbot colours so they can pretend. they have to go through an arc before getting over that sorry.

can you tell this is the thing ive put the most thought into

okayyyyy thanks everyone who actually read alla that biiiiieeeeee

[thethronezone]

Playing with this idea becuse I thought it was funny and since your kind of funny tickles me too I wanted to share it with you.

One of the Lost Primarchs became a woman becuase of Warp Bullshit or whatever (that's just a small detail of this idea). Whichever the case, Big E still went to try and get them back only to discover that this Primarch is nothing short of a music idol on their planet. Like, insanely popular and adored kind of Pop-Idol level. He arrived in the middle of one of their concerts and shocked falls short to what he felt when seeing your technically son-now daughter dancing and singing while lights and smoke fly around for the effects to stir the public even more.

Big E can't even feel confused for so long since damn, they actually sing amazingly good but having Horus and Fulgrim to come along with him was a bad idea because now they actually look excited to meet their sister.

He pretends that his leg isn't moving and tapping at the rhythm the catchy song.

Teehee this thing has been living rent free inside my head since I heard Ado on one of her concerts. Her voice is awesome.

-Toto🌵

Toto, you can't just drop this in my inbox and not expect me to go feral over it because THE CONCEPT. OH MY GOD THE CONCEPT IS SO FUCKIN GOOD.

She's not just a superstar but also part time warrior queen. Just because she's out there slaying her enemies don't mean she can't also be slaying on stage.

"This next song is dedicated to all my fallen enemies who tried to kill me but failed! Here is 'Bullet Through Your Brain'!"

When she steps on stage, all eyes are on her. Her stage presence is insane (it's that Primarch aura bro) and the crowd goes wild every single time. I am talking screaming, crying, fainting. When not fighting on the battlefield, her soldiers work as security guards during her shows and get to exercise crowd control.

She's a diva, she's the moment and she will call the Emperor's armor "gaudy" straight to his face on their first meeting. Fulgrim and Horus be standing in the background like "Is she allowed to say that? Can we say that?".

For some reason I think her name is Bianca.

[sturnsblogs]

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆More than best-friends‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

☆ ★ ��� ★ ☆

Chapter 13: Only You.

For months, Chris had been trying to prove to you that he wanted everything with you.

That he wasn’t going anywhere. That this wasn’t just some temporary feeling for him—it was real, it was permanent, and he needed you to know that.

Ever since the night you finally admitted your feelings for each other, everything had changed. You made it official soon after, and Chris had been nothing but devoted to you since. Every day, he found a new way to remind you how much he loved you, how much he needed you.

And he did it in every way possible—through words, through actions, and especially through the endless messages he sent, reminding you every single day that you were his, and he was yours.

01: Morning Messages

Chris: Good morning, my love. I hope you slept well. I woke up thinking about you (shocker, I know), and I just need you to know how much I love you. Like, it’s actually insane how obsessed I am with you. If I could spend every second with you, I would. And if anyone tries to ruin your day today, let me know. I’ll handle it. Love you, baby.

You: You’re so dramatic, you know that?

Chris: Not dramatic, just very in love with my girl.

You: Fine. I love you too.

Chris: Damn right you do.

—

Chris: Princess, wake up. The sun’s out, the birds are chirping, and I miss you.

You: Chris, it’s 7 AM.

Chris: Exactly. That means you’ve already wasted at least 7 hours not being in my arms.

You: Christopher.

Chris: Sweetheart.

You: I need sleep.

Chris: You need me.

02: Random Check-Ins

Chris: Baby, have you eaten today? Drank water? Taken a deep breath?

You: Yes, dad.

Chris: Shut up, I just care about my girl.

You: I know, I know. I love you.

Chris: Damn right you do.

—

Chris: I just saw a couple walking down the street, holding hands, looking all cute, and you know what I thought?

You: What?

Chris: That should be us. Except you’d probably be dragging me into some random store because you saw something “cute” that you absolutely needed to have.

You: First of all, correct. Second of all, it’s called retail therapy.

Chris: And what am I called?

You: My personal ATM.

Chris: Wow. Love that for me.

03: Soft Reassurances

You: I just don’t want to lose you, Chris.

Chris: You won’t, baby. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me.

You: Promise?

Chris: On everything. Now stop worrying and come let me love on you.

—

You: Sometimes I feel like I’m too much.

Chris: Baby, you are everything to me. I love the way you are, every single part of you. There’s no such thing as “too much” when it comes to you. If anything, I just want more of you.

You: More?

Chris: Yes, baby. More laughs, more kisses, more late-night talks, more waking up next to you. I want everything with you.

04: When He’s Extra Soft

Chris: You know what my favorite thing is?

You: What?

Chris: The way you look at me. Like I’m the only person in the world. That look right there? That’s what keeps me breathing.

You: Oh my god, Chris.

Chris: What? It’s the truth. I’ll never get tired of looking at you, baby.

—

Chris: I was having a bad day, but then I thought about you, and suddenly everything felt better.

You: Chris…

Chris: Baby, I’m serious. You’re my peace. My safe place. My favorite person. I don’t think you’ll ever understand just how much I love you.

You: You’re gonna make me cry.

Chris: Come cry in my arms, then. I’ll hold you forever, angel.

05: Late-Night Messages

Chris: Falling asleep without you is so hard, baby. My bed feels empty. My arms feel useless. I keep rolling over expecting you to be there, and when you’re not, I sigh dramatically to myself like I’m in a sad movie. Just come over already.

You: Chris, I am literally in my pajamas.

Chris: Perfect. Less time wasted when you get here.

You: Why are you even up so late?

Chris: Thinking about you.

You: Chris.

Chris: What? My brain literally refuses to shut off when you exist.

You: Do I live in your head rent-free?

Chris: Baby, you own the damn penthouse in my head. Fully furnished.

—

Chris didn’t care about anything or anyone else anymore.

Avery? She was nothing but a bad memory. He didn’t waste a second thinking about her—because his mind, his heart, his everything belonged to you now.

You weren’t second choice. You never had been. And every day, Chris proved that to you in a million little ways.

When he held your hand absentmindedly while driving. When he showed up at your place just because he missed you. When he kissed your forehead and mumbled, “Mine,” against your skin like he was afraid you’d disappear.

And especially when he texted you things like:

Chris: I don’t care about anything that came before us, baby. I don’t care about her. I don’t care about my past. The only thing I care about is my future—and that’s you. Just you.

And deep down, you knew.

You had nothing to be afraid of anymore.

Because Chris was yours.

Completely.

Unconditionally.

Forever.

└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘

A/N- I LOVE THIS MORE THEN ANYTHING.

My beautiful babies- @blushsturns @starrii-sturns @izzylovesmatt @chrisslut04 @jimmasterflashh @oopsiedaisydeer @csturnioloswifey @just-a-girl-1 @sturdyyolo @sturnslvtt @sturnbows @sturniolosrtewsexy @chriss-slutt @franticroads @thecrawlys @ribbonlovergirl

CHAPTER 12

[do-androids-dream-ao3acc]

I Didn't Know How To Love You (Ch. 2)

[Chapter 1]

❗Mentions of suicide (non-graphic, and nobody gets hurt). For those sensitive, please proceed with care.

Read below or on AO3.

Thinking about Tommy has never been Buck’s problem, quite the opposite. He’s studied recipes, worked overtime and exercised harder because he needed the distraction. Because he needed to prevent his thoughts from spiraling around questions he probably wouldn’t like the answers to. It’s still hard to switch off his thoughts as he drives home from Hen and Karen’s, their words are living rent-free in his head now.

He steers the jeep almost mechanically through the night, wondering if his brooding will start all over again. It’s a depressing thought, somehow. Buck has spent days, weeks even wondering if it all had been his fault, whether the simple offer to share a household sounded too much like an invitation to share a life. It had been easy to convince himself that that was exactly what had put Tommy off. Tommy had never held his dreams and whims against him, but this was something big, an idea too much out of the blue. It's just… maybe there wasn’t any hidden agenda in Buck’s question that night, but he had been able to imagine it. All for himself, in the back of his mind, and in bright colors even. Not the white picket fence and garden kind of dream, at least not in L.A. Just a future with somebody he liked, a lot. Somebody who wanted him and took him for what he was, with all his faults and quirks. It seemed such an innocent wish, so little to want, yet Buck knew it wasn’t.

So, life’s lesson repeated and Tommy left. Naturally, Buck assumed it was his fault. Whatever Tommy’s plans for the future were, they didn’t include him. Though it had not made much sense to him, neither the crack in his voice nor his words. “You'll break my heart,” Tommy said, and had instead broken Buck’s. It was the strangest, worst reason why anybody had ever broken up with him.

But if Hen is right – and Buck has no reason to believe she isn’t – Tommy's answer had little to do with his identity and everything with the fact that he’d been hurt. An universal experience that Buck shared and understood, but at the time, that evening, he’d done neither. Now, he was so plagued by guilt and doubt that he didn't know how to react. Buck’s the kind of person who prefers to deal with conflicts head-on rather than let them fester, not least because he can’t stand the thought of being the cause of someone’s distress. Was it anger at Buck that had kept Tommy from getting in touch? Or had his fingers hovered just as indecisively over the keys of his phone as Buck’s, consumed by a feeling that he had to make amends but couldn’t figure out how?

His thoughts aren’t getting him anywhere. Days of indecision pass, having Buck pondering about the best way to do something, anything. Work, at least, offers some kind of distraction. L.A. is still full of people jumping into empty swimming pools during nighttime break-ins or burning down fifty acres of parkland out of carelessness. Work offers stability, even without Eddie, though he’s missing the latter’s dry wit and their mutual, wordless understanding. They talk on the phone, but while Eddie reports on his tentative progress with his son, Buck remains silent about any thoughts he has about Tommy.

During work, Hen's clever, gentle eyes behind her glasses often seem to rest on him. He avoids her gaze as if it contained the question of a decision, yet Buck’s never been so indecisive in his life. It’s a strange day anyway. There’s a certain tension in the air, one of those days with high humidity and heat; the television blared warnings all morning, and everyone knows the city will go crazy. The silence in the fire engine seems palpable, forced even, as if everybody thinks that if they’d disturb it with so much as the clearing of a throat, it will jinx bad mojo. Not even Howie cracks one of his stupid jokes, instead he stares out the window, possibly pondering his future with two kids. It’s kind of humbling, the mere thought that everyone has problems is able to distract Buck from his own musings.

Bobby is wise enough not to break the silence with unnecessary instructions; they’ve all heard dispatch and will get the picture on scene. Police has been called to a mixed-use office building where an argument about water-saving devices apparently escalated, while temperature has reached 89.6 °F as early as 8:30 a.m. Typically for L.A., especially on a day like this, it wasn't just a small brawl between white-collar guys. For some reason, a fire had broken out, and now the 118 is approaching, blaring siren and all.

The brawlers turn out to be two women, one with tousled hair and a bruise on her cheek that only needs some ice – Buck notices Hen's almost disappointed look. But the other one has a torn skirt and a broken wrist, she’s standing at the side of the road howling like a puppy because they’re putting handcuffs on her.

“Good heavens, only cuff one hand and let the paramedics have a look on her,” someone snaps at a young police officer, and this someone turns out to be Athena.

“Nice to see you, Sergeant Grant,” Bobby says, raising his helmet mockingly.

Athena just gives a snort, brushing a sweat-soaked strand of hair out of her forehead.

“That’s Grant-Nash, Captain, you keep forgetting that and troubling my day even more?” She laughs, flashing her pearly teeth, but soon becomes serious again. “These two claim they’d nothing to do with the fire on the 26th floor, and on a day like this, even I'm inclined to believe in coincidences. But that’s for you to decide. All I know is that there are still people inside who called 911 as they fled to the upper floors. Luckily it’s still early in the day; apparently not all the offices were occupied yet.”

“All right,” Bobby replies with a final wink, then turns to his crew. His orders are brief and to the point, and everyone knows what to do. There’s no smoke billowing out of the upper-story windows yet, Buck observes, squinting against the sun as he stares upward.

Howie, as the most senior, is leading the vanguard today; while Bobby wants to have Hen on the ground, Howie, Buck and Ravi will secure the building. As they trudge up the stairs, chasing down a few office workers who apparently didn't take the police warning seriously, Buck wonders if Bobby now regrets turning down the Chief's offer this morning. Apparently, Eddie's departure was much more spontaneous than he's admitted, and now they’re short-handed. Many young people today seem more likely to pursue a career as an Instagram star than to serve the city in the fire department, despite Firefox's efforts.

“It won't be easy to fill the gap,” the Chief had said. Yet another overheard conversation, and again completely unintentional. As Buck walked past Bobby's office, just as he was coming out of the washroom, he heard their conversation because for some reason, Bobby had put his phone on speaker. “City has put us on a hiring freeze, as you know. You’ll have to work with stand-ins for a while. For today, I can order the 133 to lend you someone.”

However, Bobby’s declined the offer. Initially, Buck was fine with that, though his motives were probably less altruistic than Bobby's, who didn’t want to mess up everyone's roster. Buck, however, was not ready for anyone replacing Eddie, especially not a permanent one. Now, however, things look different. Bobby coordinates the operation from below, but his skeptical look tells Buck that he would rather plunge into the fray with his crew. He’s ordering reinforcements, but by now the morning rush hour is in full swing.

Despite everything, Buck enjoys the adrenaline rush of it all. This is more than a mere mission, it’s a way to feel alive. To feel like a part of something. His nerves are taut in a good way, like ropes on a pulley whose use serves a purpose. Every unclear situation offers a thrill, but right now, Buck has no idea how true this will turn out to be. Because if the last few months have taught him anything, it’s that the future is always uncertain. From one moment to the next, the world changes, focus disappears and plans fall apart. It's better to live in the present, and that finally includes smoke developing on some of the 32 floors they pant up in full gear.

“SCBA, guys,” Howie reminds them curtly, pulling his own mask over his head. His voice is muffled when he adds, “According to Dispatch, there are two companies on this floor, and the fire must have started here. Ravi and I will start extinguishing, Buck, you check to see what it looks like on the upper floors. Allegedly, the employees managed to evacuate the floor in time. Come back immediately when they are reasonably safe.”

Buck saves his breath and just nods; the attitudes of his younger self have largely disappeared, and he respects his brother-in-law enough to follow his instructions. He trudges up another floor, his panting booming loudly in his ears, tightly enclosed by his protective gear. The smoke here is not quite as thick, but it is still dense enough; Buck has to shine his flashlight to see that he’s on the 27th floor.

“LAFD,” he calls, “anyone up here?”

If they were smart, the employees would have run further up, maybe even to the roof. If they were even smarter, though, they would've turned downstairs, not upstairs to where smoke rises. But people in distress rarely think rationally. The fire alarm, which now only emits a vague blare, must have been very loud a few minutes ago. Buck has seen people so frightened by the sound alone, they kept running towards a fire instead of away from it. Once, a guy even openly admitted that he’d run to the roof because he hoped for an air rescue.

“Hello?”

The call echoes from the landing over Buck. Someone has opened the door to the hallway, a well-coiffed man in a gray suit; probably he’s usually one of those calm go-getters. Now, however, he peers down nervously.

“Is there anyone left on this floor?” Buck calls up to him.

“No, we're all up here,” the man replies. “Is there still fire?”

“Yes. Stay there until we give the all-clear. How many are up there with you?”

“About twenty, I think, and… the people from this floor’s companies. I’m not sure, actually. Everyone’s a bit nervous, though. Are we getting evacuated?”

“Sooner or later, sure, but right now…” Buck raises his hand as his radio crackles, gesturing for the man to wait. It's Bobby.

“118, we have new information,” he starts, but Howie chimes in, “So do we: fire’s as good as under control. Buck, how about the employees?”

Buck is about to press the button and answer when Bobby's voice clatters out of the device again, more urgently this time, “Hang on. Another emergency call has just come in. Apparently, there’s someone on the roof at risk of jumping.”

“On this building?” Howie asks incredulously, and Buck can't blame him. Bobby doesn't seem to believe it’s a coincidence either, because he replies, “Athena's checking for a connection to the fire and the argument between the two ladies, but that’s not our concern right now. Are there any casualties we need to deal with? Dispatch is arranging for a psychologist, but in the meantime we could...”

“I'm on it,” Buck calls into his radio.

“Wait,” Bobby advises. “I'm already on the fifteenth floor.”

Buck stops in his tracks. Of course Bobby would want to take matters into his own hands, protocol aside. A call like this strikes a particular chord in him, and it’s a tune he must follow. It's not because he considers himself an expert, an authority for people considering suicide – Bobby is neither megalomaniacal nor is he shallow. No, Bobby is driven by compassion, by an understanding that only people with the same experiences can feel. And at the same time, he’s the best proof of how people can rise above themselves and their trauma. Buck knows all this. And normally, when he thinks of Bobby, the father figure larger than his real father, he does so with his heart. Now, however, he thinks rationally, or so he believes. Taking two steps at a time, he rushes upstairs, where the guy in the suit stares at him wide-eyed.

“And I'm on the 28th,” he speaks into his radio. “I'll be on the roof in a minute.”

He squeezes past suit guy, slams the door shut and tears off his mask. Up here, the smoke is just a vague memory; the hallways are equipped with fire doors, and it can’t have been a huge fire.

“Go back to the others and wait for the all-clear,” he tells him, so hastily that his stress stutter doesn't stand a chance to evolve. “Keep this door shut. Firefighters are two floors below you, we’ve everything under control.”

The man, whose ridiculous moustache reminds Buck all too much of Eddie in his self-discovery phase for a moment, opens his mouth to say something. Buck won't let him. He slips out the door again and runs up the stairs to the roof.

It doesn't take a minute, even if Buck doesn't count. There are people who run up the 102 floors of the Empire State Building in 9.5 minutes. Such trivia distracts him long enough to steel himself for the view that awaits him at the top. The last two floors consist mainly of showrooms with huge windows, and at the very top, a narrow ladder leads to the roof through a hatch. Sunlight blinds Buck, but his gaze is magnetically drawn to a woman who seems to be floating in the air.

He pushes his way onto the roof, which is mainly a huge, gray open space. A bunch of buildings are taller than this one, but standing on the edge of the balustrade, it certainly gives the illusion of touching the clouds. It's just that the woman, a young brunette in a billowing cardigan that envelops her like a cape, isn’t standing at the edge of the roof with its wind vanes.

The top two floors are connected to the roof of the 30th floor with steel struts that either represent decorative elements or actually serve a structural function, Buck couldn’t care less. Some of these elements, however, extend a bit beyond the end of the roof. Whoever thought it was a good idea to put them up there in a way they could easily be climbed was an idiot in Buck's eyes. The woman is standing at the end of a narrow beam; it looks a bit like she is standing on the plank of a ship, only there is no one to keelhaul her but herself. She turns around as she hears the hatch slam onto the roof. Despite the distance – Buck estimates it at 15 feet, just under seven steps, if he's fast – he sees that she’s been crying, narrow black streaks from her mascara adorn her cheeks.

“Hey,” he says cautiously, trying to paint his voice in a tone that she won’t find threatening. “I'm Buck. Well, it's a nickname, maybe you have one too? What's your name?”

“Don't come any closer,” she replies, but she continues to look at him.

If she jumps now, there's no guarantee that she'll be killed instantly, and Buck wished he could make her understand this without scaring her away. The metal struts are anchored in the roof of the 30th floor, which forms a kind of surrounding balcony to that floor. If she falls onto it, from a height of around 25 feet, it does not automatically mean certain death. Even if she falls onto the balustrade. The vanes are turning violently to the northeast, which means that she would probably have to take a run-up if she wanted to throw herself off the entire building from here.

Buck doesn't want that. He doesn't want to have to explain to her how many bones she might break, how many organs she’d damage, and for what? She might end up still alive and with the same problems as before, plus a lot more on top. He doesn't want her to jump, because it might not end her life, but it would most certainly ruin it. Strangely enough, as he’s standing up here with the wind ruffling his hair, his mouth feels dry. Buck is rarely at a loss for words, but now he can't think of anything to say. He’s almost relieved when the hatch opens again. Bobby is panting quite a bit when he reaches the roof; once at the top, he puts his hands on his knees and takes a few deep breaths.

“Lady, I'm a little too old for this,” he gasps, Buck recognizes gravity behind his chatty tone. “I'm Robert, but everyone calls me Bobby. You look about the same age as my boy here, and you know what? If he were standing there, I'd have something to say to him.”

The feeling of being called my boy by Bobby, as if he were actually his son, tingles like electricity. It's like being struck by lightning again, only this time it doesn't hurt, yet a warm sensation remains.

“Can I come a bit closer?” Bobby asks.

“I don't know,” the woman replies defensively.

“That’s okay. Will you at least tell me your name?”

“Violet,” she says, as if she simply cannot escape Bobby’s sonorous voice.

“Violet,” he echoes, rolling her name over his tongue as if it were heavy, good wine. “Now I know two things about you.”

“Two?” she sniffs, carelessly wiping her nose with a sleeve.

“Yes,” Bobby replies with a smile. “Your name, and that you don't really want to jump.”

Violet stares at him in amazement, then she starts laughing. It's a sound interrupted by sobs, but it is genuine laughter. Buck fears that the wind and her laughter will blow her off the roof after all, but she stands firm, looking at Bobby.

“How would you know?” she asks, although her eyes show a glimmer of hope: she already suspects the answer.

“I'll be happy to tell you, Violet. But do me a favor and come down first, okay? You can stand at the edge of the balustrade if you like. I won't persuade you. But air support is to arrive shortly, and I don't want your decision to be taken from you, if you know what I mean. Wind's strong up here.”

“You requested AirOps?” Buck mutters under his breath.

Bobby turns his head to him and whispers, “There's still smoke covering at least one floor, Chimney reports, the vents aren't working anymore.”

Of course, she could be led down the stairs wearing Bobby’s or Buck’s mask, but that’s still 32 floors, and maybe Bobby's decision has something to do with considerations similar to Buck's. If Violet were to jump and be seriously injured, a helicopter might be her best chance of making it to the hospital in time. Right now, she no longer looks like she's particularly keen on throwing herself off the building; yet it's better to be safe than sorry, and it's Bobby's decision.

He continues to gently coax her, and Buck holds his breath. Even now, so much can go wrong. The wind is strong up here, and she might just slip. Or she could freeze in the grip of sudden panic; it happens quite often that someone who was just so determined loses their courage. But if Violet has lost anything, it’s only the will to die, at least here and now. She approaches Bobby slowly and cautiously, ignoring his outstretched hand. Instead, she crouches and awkwardly slides down to the relatively safe ground of the rooftop, just as the roaring of a helicopter’s rotors announces its arrival.

“There’s actually a chopper,” Violet says, almost reverently.

Her tone suggests that she’s mostly amazed by Bobby's honesty, which is quite sad, actually. It also reminds Buck that he, too, was once fascinated by these machines, if for a different reason. There was a time when he’d longingly watch the sky whenever he’d hear the familiar sound of rotor blades, always hoping that if Tommy was up there, he’d be safe. He’s since given up this habit, for obvious reasons, but appearances can be deceptive. Because as the helicopter door swings open with the last slow rotation of the rotor, his heart skips a telltale beat.

[sheikfangirl]

Aryll's gift: A Pre-Calamity short story.

Note: For the best reading experience, please click on the first panel and scroll from image to image. ♥️

... Link forgot.

Hope you enjoy this one.

Cheers!

[yubriamakesart]

so i was discussing Aerith last night

[mihai-florescu]

[lilislegacy]

i feel like we gloss over the first few pages of SoN FAR too much. i mean, take percy’s name out and i would think it’s all about hercules. the book opens by dropping banger after banger regarding percy’s recent escapades, as if this is some epic greek myth.

like how did rick just casually slip in that percy strangled a sea monster with his bare hands (no biggie) and we as the readers were just like “sounds right, anyway—”

[sad-leon]

So some of y'all need to go touch some grass and learn that brotherly affection can include forhead and cheek kisses without it being gross

I like to imagine Leo is very affectionate, but when his brothers show him affection, he freezes up. Especially after the invasion, he fucking cries when his brothers show him affection wihtout him needing to "earn it" or anything like that

[yyenky]

ALAIN PROST | 2024

[libraryofgage]

After checks calendar 84 years, I am once again offering Smart Steve content lmao

Listen the writer's block has been hitting recently if you couldn't tell, but I'm still happy with how this came out.

As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't :P

----

So.

Steve Harrington is smart.

Like, smart smart.

Like, the kind of smart where he not only understands shit, he can explain complicated shit to Eddie without sending his brain into a coma.

It's been two weeks, and Eddie is still trying to come to terms with this discovery. He's four tutoring sessions in and a little spark of surprise still rocks him whenever Steve can easily explain a new topic using the stuff Eddie likes.

He explained velocity using D&D spells. He explained electrical circuits using the concept of plugging a guitar into an amp. After asking a few questions about Lord of the Rings, Steve Harrington managed to explain the in-depth concepts of magnetism using the fucking One Ring.

How the fuck is Eddie supposed to be normal about any of that? Ignoring the sheer fact that Steve is capable of it, how is Eddie supposed to feel about the...the willingness to learn what Eddie understands best and meet him on that level?

If the answer is awed and practically starstruck, he's ahead of the game.

"Hey, you doing okay? Kinda spacing out over there, man."

Eddie blinks, the textbook in front of him coming back into focus. Steve had been explaining the concept of momentum, but his words just floated in one ear and out the other because Eddie was once again consumed by the absurdity of the situation.

It's not like he can say that, though. So, instead, he settles for a grimace and pushes the textbook away. "I think I'm all fried out for physics," he says, looking up at Steve.

"Oh," Steve says, blinking a few times before nodding. "Yeah, sure, uh, sorry."

"Wait, what are you sorry about?"

Steve looks away, an awkward frown tugging at his lips. "I...probably wasn't explaining it too well, huh?"

"Woah, woah, no way," Eddie says, putting a stop to that train of thought before it can leave the station. He turns in his chair to face Steve directly, ignoring how the metal rod that attaches it to the desk digs painfully against his shin. "Listen, Stevie, I've never understood physics more than when you explain it. Like, I don't know, man, whatever you're doing works."

Steve must have been more worried than he let on, because Eddie can literally see the tension draining from his shoulders. "Great," he says, rubbing the back of his neck as he glances away. "Seriously, that's great. I'm glad nothing's been confusing."

"Yeah, so, nothing you did," Eddie says, feeling like he needs to reiterate that point to drive it home. "Honestly, you could probably even make me understand geometry. Not like our teacher is doing shit to help."

"Do you...not understand geometry?" Steve asks, looking a little unsure like he can't tell if that's a joke or Eddie's attempt at suggesting another class he needs help in. This one is a class they share, which means Steve will have seen Eddie's floundering attempts at answering questions, and he feels a whole new burn of embarrassment course through him.

"Do you?" Eddie asks in return.

"Yeah. It's just, like, angles and shit, man."

Eddie stares at him for a moment, eyes narrowing and trying to figure out if Steve is somehow, subtly, making fun of him. But of course he isn't. If Eddie has learned nothing else, it's that Steve doesn't ever think Eddie is actually stupid or deserving of ridicule. He just thinks Eddie hasn't been taught properly, which is more on the teacher than him.

After a moment, Eddie twists around to dig in his bag. He pulls out his geometry homework, slaps it on the desk, and gestures at the triangles and squares and other shapes with unidentified angles and side lengths. "I have literally no clue what the fuck is going on here," he says.

Steve moves closer, looking over the sheet with a slight frown. Eddie knows this face by now. It's the one Steve makes when he's searching for the relevant knowledge in his own brain, pulling it to the front so he can easily identify the gaps in Eddie's understanding. "So, how would you start?" Steve finally asks, offering his pencil.

Eddie takes it, twirls it between his fingers a few times, and looks over the questions. He eventually chooses one asking him to find the length of a side. "I know this one. It's the equation with the squares and shit," he says, carefully writing it out and plugging in numbers under the triangle.

"Right. Pythagorean theorem. A squared plus B squared equals C squared."

"Yeah. That," Eddie says, working through the math on a separate sheet of paper instead of in his head. He can do easy addition and subtraction, but one of the first things Steve did was get him used to using scratch paper. His brain doesn't feel quite as crowded by numbers anymore; now it's just crowded by the endless rotation of bites of knowledge and equations that have nothing to do with the work at hand. It's like his brain can recognize that it needs to remember something, but can't identify what exactly, so it just offers up everything.

When he's done, Eddie shows Steve his work, the answer circled at the bottom of the scratch paper. "Perfect," Steve says, flashing a smile that makes Eddie's heart lurch dangerously. "Okay, so that's solid. What about this one."

He points at a right triangle with only one angle listed and the other marked as unknown. "No fucking clue," Eddie says.

"This one is asking for the unknown angle. It'll just be some subtraction."

"It's only giving me one angle, Stevie," Eddie points out, gesturing to the angle marked as 53. "What the fuck do I do with that?"

"Well, the main thing is that a triangles angles will always add to 180. Also, this is a right triangle," Steve explains, taking the pencil from Eddie to circle the L-shaped corner of the triangle. "This angle will always be 90 degrees on right triangles. Should I keep going?"

"No," Eddie says slowly, drawing the word out as he takes the pencil back. "I'm starting to get it. Lemme try."

Steve waits patiently as Eddie hesitates before adding the angles together and subtracting that from 180. When he gets to a solution of 37, he gestures for Steve to check.

"That's right," Steve says, nodding as he points to another triangle on the sheet. "For this one, I'll teach you about the SOH CAH TOA trick."

Eddie nods, paying as much attention as he can, but he can't help feeling a little distracted by Steve's happy smile and relaxed posture. He's never seen Steve like this during class, and he's struck by the sudden notion that nobody else will see Steve like this, either.

------

When Steve gets home, he drops his bag in the hallway, grabs a soda from the kitchen, and collapses onto the couch.

A few National Geographic and Scientific American magazines are still spread out across the coffee table. A brief glance reminds Steve that none of the stories were particularly interesting in these editions.

He pops the tab on his soda, takes a sip, and glances at the phone on the end table next to him.

Steve had noticed something today. Eddie's shirt. Most of the band shirts Eddie wears are popular enough that Steve sort of knows them. Metallica, KISS, and AC/DC were recognizable since he's passed their albums on display in record stores.

Today's band, though. He didn't recognize that one. What the fuck was Manowar?

After a few seconds of thought, Steve reaches out and grabs the phone. He's just doing research. Wanting to understand the music Eddie likes is reasonable. That's how Eddie learns. There's no other reason for Steve dialing the number of an old classmate.

The phone rings a few times before picking up. "Amare residence," a girl says, sounding distracted.

"Hey, Dee. It's Steve."

"Hmm, Steve. Steve. ...Steeeeve. Oh, is this Steve Harrington, deserter of friends for the woes of public education?"

Despite everything, Steve can't help an amused smile. "Yeah, that Steve," he says. He doesn't apologize, since he knows that's not what she wants. If she was actually angry, she would've hung up.

"Well, how kind of you to grace me with your voice," Dee says, sounding distant like she's set the phone down. "I suppose I can give you until I finish braiding my hair."

"Great. You know about metal, right?"

"Like iron? Duh, Steve, I'm not thirteen."

"No, like, heavy metal."

"Iron is pretty heavy."

"Music, Dee. Heavy metal music."

"Oh! Aren't you a Tears for Fears kind of boy? What are you doing asking about heavy metal?"

Steve starts to answer but stops himself. He doesn't know why. Dee tutors kids all the time. Everyone in their private school group did. That's how they made money. She'd understand that he's trying to learn more about Eddie's interests for tutoring purposes.

So why can't he just say that?

"This long pause says you're thinking about lying to me," Dee says. "Don't bother, Steve."

"Well, I do want to know for the guy I'm tutoring. But not just because I'm tutoring him."

"Awww, are you trying to make a friend?" Dee teases.

Steve grimaces, wondering why his stomach twists slightly at the question. "Yeah, kind of. I want to know more about the stuff he likes. And he likes heavy metal. So, ya know, I thought of you."

"Well, you've come to the right place," Dee says. "And I love talking music, so I guess we can keep talking even after I'm done braiding."

A relieved smile tugs at Steve's lips. "Thanks, Dee, I appreciate it. So, first question, what's Manowar?"

-------

Tag List!

@estrellami-1, @ravenfrog,