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aashi-heartfilia · 1 year ago

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The hypocrisy of Jinshi and MaoMao

*light novel spoilers*

I just love how hypocritical MaoMao's nature is. She yells at Jinshi for being a 'Masochist' and yet we see that she's no different. Now, by definition Masochist is a person who drives sexual gratification from their own pain and humiliation, plus it relates to Jinshi's tendency to do self harm (like burning his skin with a brand)

And what is MaoMao's most favourite thing in this world?

POISON

She literally takes pleasure in consuming it and no one can convince me otherwise. Plus she uses dangerous plants and animals and snakes whatnot in the name of her so-called experiments. Her dad may call her a 'mad Scientist' but that is a direct indication of self harm.

And she calls Jinshi a Masochist.

I mean, think about it! The amount of anxiety she gives to Jinshi! She came prepared with a vomit inducing medicine but even she had no idea whether it would work or not. She was just hoping it would work in the salt chapter.

And the same goes for her hand, on which she has conducted countless experiments. One flower even burned her skin and its marks never left her skin. She said it was all for her hobby. What kind of weird hobby is that? Maybe, our little adorable mad scientist is just like that.

One brands his own skin, while the other takes heavenly pleasure in consuming poison.

So my point is, Jinshi and MaoMao are not that different as one might think they are and that's why their dynamic works so well.

Let's look at the excerpts from volume 5:

She didn’t know how long they sat that way. All she knew was that Jinshi was looking down at her with a faintly triumphant expression, as if he saw that the breath had reached every corner of her body now. He wiped away the tears that had sprung to her eyes as she struggled to breathe. It was then that Maomao felt a flash of intense anger. “I said that if you were going to kill me, you should do it with poison,” she told him. “I refuse to let you poison yourself,” Jinshi said, his fingers tracing her lips. “You can’t pretend you didn’t know that you were one of the candidates. As much as I’m sure you’d like to.” He wasn’t done, either: “Who was that man, anyway? I’m sure you’re not a dancer.” So he had been watching them! “I was just paying for my drink,” Maomao said. “It didn’t cost much.” She tried to look away, but with his hand on her head, she really couldn’t.

Jinshi just choked her and yet he refuses to let MaoMao poison herself. A lot of people misinterpret this scene, and don't like it all that much, saying it was just fanservice stuff but this is how I see it: Jinshi wasn't trying to kill MaoMao, he was just trying to make MaoMao submit to him for once (even if the way he did it was very wrong, but guess he's kinky like that). MaoMao is actively trying to harm herself and Jinshi loves MaoMao a lot, he cannot just let her kill herself.

It was more about him trying to exert his dominance in their weirdish - complicated relationship and that also backfires on him as we see in the next volume that MaoMao escapes Jinshi's grasps using Pairin's techniques.

And then they both continue to avoid each other in the entire next volume! Because they both realised that they have crossed boundaries.

They both are hypocrites.

And they both refuse to accept their feelings.

In one of the later volumes, she gives Jinshi a piece of her mind on how he should tell her everything clearly, unequivocally, what he feels, and he literally declares that "he will make her his wife", which is nice and all but look at the wording MaoMao used here....

Excerpts from LN Vol 7, chapter 19 called "A man and a woman play the game"

"You’re forever telling me I need to use my words, Master Jinshi, but are you in any position to criticize? Everything you say to me, everything you do, it’s like it’s calculated to save you from ever having to actually say what you mean! To make me figure it all out! You know, you remind me of someone. You act exactly like a man who used to come by our brothel all the time. He was in love with one of the girls, but he would never just come out and say it. He thought it should be obvious from the way he acted. He was so sure he had a good thing going with this woman that he never sent her so much as a letter. I remember how forlorn he looked when someone else swooped in and snatched her away! He kept coming to the brothel after that—to get drunk and whine to the ladies. Well, in my opinion, he could have avoided all that heartbreak if he’d told the woman how he felt. Clearly, unequivocally, so that she knew where they stood. It was the least he could have done!”

Everything came out in a torrent. She felt like she’d said it all in one breath. It was strange, she thought, to hear so many words come out of her own mouth. She was mystified. Jinshi was no less startled, but the shock soon left his face, replaced by something else. He got up off the bed and stared down at Maomao.

Shit. Now I’ve done it. She’d given him a piece of her mind, and he was about to give her one back.

“So I should be clear, should I? Unequivocal? I should say what I mean? If I did, would you actually listen to me? Is that what you’re telling me? I’m going to hold you to that! Right this minute. I’ll say it all. Don’t plug your ears—listen to me!” He grabbed her hands as she was in the process of trying to put her fingers in her ears. He took a breath. He was looking at Maomao, but somehow he seemed almost embarrassed. Finally he managed, “Now listen to me, y—I mean, Maomao! Listen close! I am going to make you my wife!”

It's one heck of a chapter and I suggest you give it a go! The title of the chapter says "A man and a woman play the game" as if to emphasize the very fact that both Jinshi and MaoMao are playing the game.

Jinshi has never confessed his true feelings before this chapter and only implied that he wanted to make MaoMao his wife.

The implications were heavy though on Jinshi's part, and as smart as MaoMao is, anyone would have guessed that MaoMao was one of the candidates for Jinshi's consort. Even the clothes she received (the ones she wore to the banquet) were also provided by Jinshi along with the hairpin. It is never stated outright but seeing as the hairpin was from Jinshi, the clothes are also implied to be the same.

More or less she's always deliberately ignoring the possibility of having anything to do with him, that is more than professional. Some may call it denial, I call it dense. Maybe, to some extent, she herself is not aware of her feelings because she never lets herself feel anything.

Even Suiren pointed it out pretty early in the manga, that maybe it's MaoMao's way of being reserved. We need to keep in mind that MaoMao is an unreliable narrator and it's more of what she does, rather than what she says that makes a difference.

Even in the chapter that I have quoted above, she had every reason to leave Jinshi, she wasn't working for him after all. But she stayed to make tea for him, even after the fact that she had a long day too. She was almost just as exhausted as Jinshi and yet she was there preparing medicinal tea, so that he could get a better sleep.

Maybe she herself is yet to realise just how deep her feelings run. Till vol 12 she seems to have accepted them, but she still is yet to acknowledge their depth. Maybe it's because of her childhood.

It's not a traumatic backstory but MaoMao had a sad childhood nonetheless....

She was raised by her grand uncle and her real father was eccentric, who scared her. Her mother must also appear to be kind of demonic to her, since she was desperate enough to cut MaoMao's Pinky finger and send it to Lahan. So it's safe to say that MaoMao never received proper parental affection. And adding to the fact that, a brothel is not exactly an ideal place for raising a child.... especially when the birth of MaoMao was the one thing that brought the brothel to its knees...even if being born wasn't her choice.

Plus MaoMao stated it herself that when she was a baby, no one would come to sooth her until their work was finished, implying that even if MaoMao and her brothel sisters are close, they are not that close. A mother's love is different and she never received it. No one can love you more than your mother and MaoMao was deprived of that. She soon realised that no one was coming. Life is hard and she has no choice but to face it!

So, she got interested in poison.

Maybe she doesn't love herself or her life as much as she says / pretends she does. She's always like "yeah, I would very much like my head to be with my body" and "if I stay low profile maybe I can survive here" etc but maybe deep down that's not the case. Maybe that's why she loves poison so much. The implications are crazy.

And to break MaoMao's shell, Jinshi has no choice but to be a bit more forceful at times? At least that's how I interpret that choking scene. Jinshi was angry at MaoMao because she deliberately suggested him to marry consort Rishu and danced with Rikuson.

Even if Jinshi never said it outright, he was giving hints the entire time.

But well the tables turned and MaoMao topped him instead, lol (vol 7) and later we even see that our little stray cat has accepted Jinshi and she's ready to be in a relationship with him (vol 12).

Plus she is intrigued by the process of birth (she wants to eat her baby's placenta, it's kind of uggghhh.... but anyways, that MaoMao we're talking about, she's just weird that way)

Maybe not after too long she'll realise that if she has to give birth, she can only have it with Jinshi and no one else.

~Sunshine

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raginglesbian2006 · 11 months ago

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Alastor's a what now!?

Alastor x reader

A/N: I hate cats but I love cursed cat Alastor....Catastor?Calastor? Either way, I love him all the same. Also in this fic, the reader has wings :D

In all your years of living in hell and having been acquainted with the radio demon, you had never thought that you'd be able to witness something like this.

You were on an errand run. Charlie had asked you to buy some ingredients that she needed to make the "perfect breakfast" for all the hotel residents. You had agreed because you had to go buy stuff for yourself anyway.

When you returned, you sensed something was wrong immediately as you put your hand on the door handle, your other hand occupied with the bags of goods. You could hear a lot of screaming and shouting, uncharacteristically louder than usual.

You entered the hotel lobby to see a disheveled Charlie who looked as if she was at her wit's ends. Her girlfriend, Vaggie, was trying to calm her down. Emphasis on trying.

"Omgomgomg what are we supposed to do now!?" Charlie screeched as she tugged on her hair.

"Honey, you need to calm down. I'm sure we can find a solution to this....situation..." Vaggie reasoned. She looked just as frazzled and unsure of what to do.

"Charlie, dear-"

"DAD! PLEASE TELL ME YOU CAN REVERSE WHATEVER YOU JUST DID???" Charlie raced towards her father and shook him by the shoulders. The king of hell looked sheepish as he avoided his daughter's terrifying gaze.

"I mean...he'll turn back in a few...I think," Lucifer trailed off.

"YOU THINK!?!?" Charlie groaned as her already anxious state worsened. Vaggie comforted her girlfriend the best she could, albeit failing miserably.

You coughed loudly to make your presence known. The three of them turned to look at you.

"W-what... what is going on?" you asked.

Charlie's eyes started watering as she called out your name, "I-I need your help! I don't know what to do!!"

"Need my help in...what exactly?" your eyes looked over to Lucifer, who was glancing at his feet, looking uncomfortable as the seconds flew by.

Charlie could not speak anymore and she hugged you close, wailing into your shoulders. Your body stiffened at the sudden gesture but eventually, you decided to let her be, patting her back. You looked towards Vaggie for help.

"Its...Alastor..." she started, "He and Lucifer were having their daily fights as usual and Lucifer lost his mind so he may have kinda sorta...." she looked up at the ceiling, "turned Alastor into a cat."

You looked at her incredulously, "I'm sorry...Alastor's a what now?"

Charlie picked herself up from your reluctant embrace and looked at you with teary eyes, "A CAT. HE'S A CAT!"

She pointed towards the ceiling and your eyes followed soon after.

There was a creature hanging onto the chandelier- its eyes glowed a deep red and it had a frightening smile on its face. It was a red cat...that held an eerie similarity to the radio demon.

Your mouth gaped open as you registered what you saw.

"You mean to tell me...," your eyes were locked onto the creature, "That...is Alastor?"

Charlie and Vaggie nodded their heads.

"And...how did he get up there?"

Charlie swung her head around to glare at Lucifer. He averted his eyes and whistled a tune, taking a sudden interest in the wallpaper.

You got the message. It was safe to say that Lucifer had no interest in helping Alastor get down.

"Alright...I'll help get him down and...then we can talk about what to do next."

You unfurled your wings and rose into the air, slowly coming closer to where Alastor....or rather the cat was.

"Al?" you put your hands towards the cat, "It's alright, I'm just here to help you get down."

The smiling creature looked toward your outstretched hand with hesitance. You waited but he refused to accept your help.

Your eyes brightened as an idea popped into your head. During your errand run, you visited the butcher's shop and bought Alastor some raw venison. He had told you about how he liked to eat what he hunted better but you couldn't help it anyway. He looked so damn tired these days, so you decided to cut him some slack.

You called out to Charlie, "I need you to throw me something! You should find a packet of venison in one of the bags I brought in. Just fling it over to me!"

Charlie did as you asked and threw the packet towards you. You caught it with ease and tore away the packaging with your claws. You took a cut of venison and hung it in front of the creature.

"Look, Al!" you whispered, "I got you a little snack!"

The cat's tail wagged as his smile grew larger. His eyes followed the raw piece of meat very diligently. As he was distracted, you discreetly flew yourself closer to him and managed to get him off the chandelier and safely into your arms. The cat immediately pounced on the venison you held in your hand, chewing on it with a happy staticky hum as you flew down towards the duo waiting anxiously.

Charlie's smile grew as Vaggie relaxed.

"Oh, thank you thank you thank youuuuuuu!" Charlie exclaimed, "I don't know what we'd do without you!"

You chuckled, "Don't thank me yet, we still have..." You gestured towards the cat demon, devouring the piece of raw venison, " this...to deal with."

Vaggie turned towards Lucifer, "Is there really no way to turn him back to normal?"

Lucifer scrunched his brows, "I...I really don't know but... he should be back to normal tomorrow."

You put a hand on Charlie's shoulder, "It's alright. We're in this together, ok?"

Charlie sighed as she nodded her head- a tired smile graced her features.

Over the next couple of hours, you held the cat in your lap as you fed it venison.

Husk and Angel Dust had come back to the hotel, a little later, from their club hopping with Cherri, and Niffty in tow.

"Aww, who's cat is that, toots?" Angel asked as he circled around you, trying to take a better look at the new creature.

Trying to save Alastor the embarrassment, you hid his ever-grinning face and chuckled awkwardly, looking towards Vaggie for help.

"They are umm.." the ex-exorcist started, "A stray! Yes, a stray that was infested with...rabies! So you better stay away!"

Angel looked disgusted and quickly took several steps away from where you were sitting.

"Never mind, I'll just go up to my room. See ya!" Angel said as he walked away with a flourish.

Husk gruffed as he sat back down at his usual place behind the hotel bar, taking no interest in the conversation.

Niffty popped out from behind you, "You know, this kitty looks a lot like-"

You put a hand over her mouth as you giggled uncomfortably, "Hahah! I think it's time for me to go and take care of this....little thing!"

As you walked towards the stairs, you glanced at Charlie, Vaggie, and Lucifer, signaling them to keep quiet about this incident. They nodded their heads feverishly.

You sighed as you shut the door to your room, bending down to let the cat roam to his heart's content.

" I'm sorry, Al," you rubbed your neck, "It isn't much but you gotta stay here till this whole thing blows over."

As he looked around your surroundings, the cat paid no mind to you. His smile remained.

You flopped on the bed, stretching your arms wide over the bedsheets.

"What a wild day, am I right?" you exclaimed.

Your eyes started getting heavy and your vision darkened as sleep overtook you. The last thing you hear as you drift off to slumber is a staticky pur. You feel soft fur curl into the crook of your arm.

The next morning, you awoke to the sound of white noise close to your ear. Your body shifted slightly, nuzzling deeper into the warmth that wrapped around you. You felt a claw on your waist dig into your skin comfortably, as you sighed in contentment.

Your eyes slowly opened after a while and you were greeted with the wide glowing red eyes and the ever-present grinning smile of the radio demon.

You screamed like a banshee as you flung yourself off the bed. You could hear the white noise slowly turn into a distinct radio static. The demon who was still in your bed grumbled at the disturbance.

Suddenly you heard the door open.

"Oh god, are you ok!?" Charlie shouted, ready to fight whoever was causing you harm. Her stance faltered seeing Alastor atop your bed, still confused and in a daze.

"Alastor!" she cried as she moved closer to where he was, "Are you ok!?"

Said demon let out a puff of air, "Well, I was having a perfectly good rest, until this one," his eyes snapped towards your frame as you hid your face into the bedside, still on the floor, "decided to ruin my slumber-"

He paused. His eyes finally took note of his surroundings.

"Wait...what am I doing in...this room?"

You raised your head from your hiding place, "You don't remember?"

Alastor looked confused as his smile strained, "Remember...what...exactly?"

Charlie interrupted, laughing rather loudly, "Nothing, Alastor! Nothing at all," she glanced at you, "You were just hanging around with them and fell asleep in their room! Thats all! Right?"

You stood up, chuckling nervously, "Yes, I umm...decided to rest on the floor here...you see? Didn't want my guest to be uncomfortable!"

You thought about what he had said earlier. You had assumed he'd woken up when you saw his wide eyes looking back at you this morning, but it felt like you were wrong. Perhaps he slept with his eyes open?

Alastor let out a hum, standing up and summoning his staff, "I must say, this is quite uncharacteristic of me."

He looked at you, his smile never leaving, "I apologize for the inconvenience I caused. I truly do not know why I am so awfully tired these days."

Your eyes followed his hands as they brushed over a particular part of his coat. You wondered if this had to do something with how he disappeared amidst his battle with Adam.

"Ah well!" he exclaimed jovially, leading Charlie by the shoulder, "We should not tarry, oh not a bit longer! There is much to do!"

The door popped shut, leaving you in your lonesome. You let out a big sigh and slumped on the floor.

"What the fuck just happened?" you wondered, loudly.

✩──────────✩─────────✩

A/N: Alsoooo

Where did ya'll come from? Wowie!

Thank you everyone for your support and for liking and reblogging my fics. It means the absolute world to me!

Love ya'll to the moon and back!

#hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor #cursed cat alastor

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etherealily · 6 months ago

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𝙴𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃𝙴𝙴𝙽 // 𝙉𝙁𝙅!

Nate Jacobs + Fem!reader. Warnings : Dark. SFW, but discretion advised. Drugs.

I don't know if this is milder or darker than the previous parts, but I do know that it is LONG.

Part 1 : Whiplash

Part 2 : 9 Lives

Part 3 : Blessed

Part 4 : Shards

Part 6 : Sin

You do NOT have permission to repost and/or translate any of my fics.

Desc. : You're fun and you're wild, but you don't know the half of the shit that you put me through

═════════════════════ 🧿 ════════════════════

TUESDAY, LIBRARY, 4 PM.

"We need to talk."

Suddenly, Carl Jung had never been more interesting, your eyes unable to rip away from the words on the paper in front of them, ignoring Nate as much as possible.

Your shoulder suddenly jerked, and a soft whisper followed. "Hey. We need to talk."

Frowning, your eyes darted between the two Jacobs brothers, the looks on their faces not strict, but the most infuriatingly stoic gazes mankind had ever known.

"You had quite a weekend, right? Anything crazy happen?"

The real question Aaron was asking was whether you were going to talk about it.

"Nope, just lots of psych homework."

"See, this is why I'm telling you to drop Psych. Unnecessary stress.", remarked Nate, his fingers rapping on the table in an almost musical pattern. Almost, because music is art, and there was nothing artistic about the false smile he was giving you.

"I'll keep that in mind."

"How are the rest of classes going?" Small talk?

"Great. Chem is pissing me off, though."

"Eh, well, only nerds are good at Chem, and I don't fuck with nerds. So you're lucky."

Oh, thanks, man. Such an honour.

"Are you good at Chem?"

"I pass."

"Where'd you get time to study? What with all the vapes and parties and quote-unquote 'dozens of bitches'?"

He let out a breathy laugh. "I got good work-life balance.", he replied, leaning on his arms closer to you. His head tilted and you knew something psychotic was about to happen. Well, it was Nate. You knew something psychotic was about to happen the second he walked in.

"I'll bet."

He smiled at that. "Are you my friend, Y/N? Are we friends?"

"I don't think so."

"Good. We're on the same page.", he hissed, moving in closer, glaring at you with the same eyes that had been acting as a dam to his true emotions two nights ago. "You can't tell anyone." His fingers deftly twirled your hair around before tucking it behind your ear.

"About?"

"Saturday."

"How you threw a lamp at me?"

"What you heard about my Dad. What he wanted to... what he said. What you learnt about our family."

"I won't."

"No, seriously, Y/N, don't fucking play with me right now. You'll regret it if you do."

"I'm not playing around, either. I'm not going to tell anyone."

"Good.", sniped Aaron. "'Cause we'll fucking ruin your life if you do."

"Aaron.", whispered Nate, shaking his head. "She already said she wouldn't."

"And you trust her?! She walked in with this polite girl attitude and then when shit got tough, she yelled at you with Mom just a room away. And you told me she wanted to fuck Da-"

"Aaron, shut the FUCK up, okay? She said she isn't going to, so she won't." The glares were back on you, an unwelcome blanket in the heat of tension.

"Yeah, we wouldn't want to have to say stuff about you , too."

"Aaron, I said fuckin' drop it."

"No, she gotta know what's at stake, or she's going to take this shit lightly."

You could almost see the vein pop in Nate's head.

"Nate, what... what stuff?"

"It's nothing. Just... we needed incentive.", he muttered, shrugging.

"What incentive?"

"You're buddy-buddy with a drug dealer, Y/N.", he continued, although, to his credit, it seemed with a little reluctance. "And he has access to a lot of shit, right? Who knows if he's ever slipped something into your drink and... y'know."

"What the FUCK? What the FUCK, NATE?"

His idea of incentive was making you a rape victim?!

Being shushed by the librarian solidified your thirst for homicide.

"I mean, you fucked Shane voluntarily, so you're already a fuckin' whore.", he declared, shrugging again as if he was just stating that the sky would be lit up by fireworks on the Fourth of July. "Maybe he just thought it would be easier, without all the playing-hard-to-get-shit. You're close enough that he trusts you to watch over his store."

"You can't FUCKING be serious! FEZCO WOULD NEVER FUCKING-"

"How sad, you're in denial.", tutted Aaron, pouting. "How would you know? He could have used shit stronger than Rohypnol, ya know? Shit that could knock you out cold for hours, and maybe he even called a couple of his trapper buddies-"

Aaron shut up quite quickly when your knuckles met his jaw, but started cussing you out when Nate pulled you off of him. "We're just saying, Y/N, you don't tell anyone the truth of that night, we won't tell them the lies about Fezco."

You pointed your finger at Nate's chest, hoping to god that that would distract him from the rage-induced tears pooling in your eyes.

"You're a fucking coward, Jacobs. With a pervert dad. A fucking coward who can't admit that he has no idea what the fuck he's doing."

"Big words coming from a girl that was raped by her dealer."

OH, someone needs to euthanize this motherfucker.

FUCK. NATE. JACOBS.

TUESDAY, 9PM

Nate had no fucking clue why he was doing this.

He was just drunk, he supposed. Drunk and horny. Average teenage experience.

But it's like.. he could've done anything. ANYTHING else. He could've actually gone to the party, picked up some girl, screwed her into the bed.

But no.

He sat there, scrolling through the fucking SlutPages. For who?Shane's sister, maybe, because of the inexplicable hatred he'd been feeling for him for about a month that he couldn't really think of a reason for? You would think, wouldn't you?

He looked for you.

There was no way you were a virgin. But he should've known there was also no way you were a slut. Or at least, that you were smart enough not to end up there.

He almost fucking threw the phone onto the wall. Fuck.

And you'd blocked him. That was the problem. He couldn't even text you. And he didn't have your fucking phone number, Jesus fucking Christ, he should've gotten it! Relying on something as flimsy as social fucking media was stupid. Idiot.

Wait. Social media.

He quickly slid his chair over to his computer, his hands moving with a pace and mind of their own.

No fucking way would he admit this, but his brother... had some good ideas, once in a while.

When he was fourteen, he'd been wide-eyed, watching through the crack through a door as his older brother -17 at the time- created an account, some random username, some girly bullshit, and then gone Incognito, finding a picture to add.

And then he watched as his brother spent hours poring through pictures of girls - at the time, Nate's seniors- and then suddenly sigh.

"You know, you breathe like fucking Darth Vader?" "What's that?", he'd asked, ignoring that comment and padding over to sit next to him. "This account? I'll tell you, but it- it's like... private brother shit, ok?"

"Shit". What a novel word that was at the time.

"Okay." "Spit-swear it, runt."

He spit-swore. A thing he never fucking did again.

"You can use it. Whenever you're down bad for a chick but you're blocked." "Why would a chick I'm down bad for block me?" "You're so obviously fourteen."

And god fucking damnit, was he.

Not that he was down bad for you. But all he'd say is if this wasn't love, it was pretty fucking close. Why you enthralled him, no clue. You were so easy to rile up, but hard to push too far. You always seemed to be limitless.

He logged in.

Good, the loser, Crestin, posted a story.

Good, you were there in the background.

Great, you were hot.

Bad, you were drinking. Tequila. Wasn't that you and Nate's thing?

Of course, he wouldn't presume to have taken your tequila-V-Card, but he most definitely would have assumed that you'd associate tequila with him. With that night. He'd assumed you'd stay away from it, metaphorically forsaking him in the process.

But no.

Shane's tequila was non-traumatic, and apparently delicious. Ugh.

This simply would not do.

TUESDAY, SHANE'S PARTY, 11PM

"No, NO, GET the FUCK away from me!", you warned, pointing a finger at him. You should've taken his advice and learnt to shoot. "I'm warning you, Jacobs!"

Shane's party was meant to be the one place you could be to avoid Nate, seeing as the host was some sort of Nate-repellent, but NO, you'd just apparently underestimated Nate Jacobs once again.

And here he was, his hand gripping your wrist - just like the rope you wanted to grip his neck - and glaring down at you as if you'd just killed his entire family but he was mildly turned on by it.

"Y/N, just fucking listen! Just- stop causing a scene! Fuckin' LISTEN!", he ordered, grabbing your shoulder with one palm and pointing at you with the other hand, to stop you from writhing away from him.

"You can't just do what you did last week and then expec-"

He kissed you. What did he think this was, fucking Disney Channel?

"NO! NO!", you shouted, shoving him away and secretly hoping for a car to hit him as he stumbled back.

No such luck.

It really was the world according to Nate, wasn't it?

"You know it's okay, right? It's alright."

"What?"

"It's okay to want me.", he informed you, as if he was telling you it was okay to sing in the shower.

Everyone does it. It's like, a thing, relax.

"It's okay.", he continued, "People want what's bad for them all the time.", he murmured, his thumb tracing your lip like he was tracing out a line he wanted so desperately to cross. "It's human nature."

"You think I'm bad for you?"

He took a deep breath, as if he was about to tell you you were terminal. "I think you're good for my soul. Like a baptism without the water." His thumb moved further into your mouth, just barely grazing your teeth.

"Even you have no clue what that meant, admit it."

"It's called effect, Y/N. Drama. Intrigue. Doesn't have to make sense."

You stared up at him, waiting for elaboration, and that earned a huff from him as he looked around at the other people in the front yard - doing lines, making out, throwing up - before turning back to you. "No, honey, I don't think you're bad for me. In fact, I think you're unnecessarily good for me."

"Unnecessarily?"

"As in, I don't need your energy."

"Then why are you so insistent on being around it? 'Cause you want to fuck me?"

"No! Jesus. It's in the name, Y/N. GOOD luck charm. You help me do GOOD in my games. You're good energy."

"What's next? You gonna tell me my birthstone?"

"Oh, shut up.", he chuckled, shaking his head as he moved your jaw from side-to-side in what seemed to be a playful gesture, but at this point, could very well have been him trying to ascertain which cheek to shoot into or something. "You got your licks in. We good?"

"Good? No. NO. We're not good! You threatened someone I love, so no fuckin' way are we good!"

"I know, I know. Aaron wanted me to-"

"BULLSHIT!"

He sighed, as if you were his deranged relative who was climbing up some telephone pole.

"YOU just can't handle the fact that I saw you almost fucking cry! I caught you weak, and that's a power shift, and you don't FUCKING like it, do you?!"

His jaw ticked for a moment, but he managed to let out a mix between a scoff and a chuckle. And then, as if what you said wasn't quite literally exactly what he was feeling, he asked, "Are you done?"

"NO, I'm not fucking done! I still haven't got to the part where you threatened to accuse him of rape, which is a fucking terrible thing to joke about in the first pla-"

"Look, man, I don't have time for this shit, okay? I'm not hurting Fezco! I came here so I could tell you something."

"My GOD, Nate, you made your point! I won't tell anyone!", you groaned, snatching a drink from some already-tipsy guy's hand and downing it.

"That's totally hygienic.", he remarked, eyes finally tearing away from you as you both watched the drunkard stumble over a girl who was getting rid of her lunch and breakfast in the bushes.

"I got new incentive.", he murmured, his forehead against yours, and his thumb rubbing your cheek as if it owned land there.

"What, now you're going make Shane out to be a rapist, too?"

Not a bad idea, actually. The corners of his mouth curled down, and he scanned your face as if he were actually thinking about it, eliciting a tsk from you.

He hid a chortle as he continued. "I'm offering you a deal. You were right, back at the bleachers about the control thing."

He was about to ask you to sell your soul, you could fucking feel it.

"So... you get to control me. For however long you need. Like, a month, a week, whatever. Just don't tell anyone about my family."

Whoa. Plot twist. You did not expect him to sell his soul.

"Oh, yeah, I'm sure. So if I asked you to show up to school naked?"

"Yes, I'd show up to school naked for you. But it's funny seeing me naked is your first instinct."

His trust issues were suddenly working out in your favour- he was essentially offering himself up as collateral.

"If I ask you to announce a formal apology to me on a bullhorn before your game?"

"I just want you to leave my family alone, Y/N."

So that's where Nate Jacobs' humanity began. At his family. Noted.

"I promise. I'll do anything." The urge to say 'then die' was strong, but not invincible.

You wracked your brain looking for something you could make this psychopath do that would not cause him immense pleasure.

"Ah, see? Being the one in control isn't all it's cracked up to be. Too much power, and you don't even know what to do with it.", he taunted, pouting as he closed his eyes, pressing his forehead harder against yours. "Think. What is it you want from me?"

What the fuck did you want him to do?

"Do you want an apology? No, 'cause I've already given you plenty and you don't want meaningless things, do you?" His lips lightly touched yours and you could swear he smirked when you flinched on reflex.

But no. That wasn't what you wanted. He was spot-on.

"You want... do you want money? I'm a trust fund baby, essentially, right? My father basically owns the town. Sure, I could hook you up. Royal Enfield, BMW. Or, if you want, Chanel? But that won't cost me anything, at least not emotionally, yeah? So no. That's not it, either."

Why did you suddenly feel like your thoughts were transferring into his head?

"You want me? You want to cut me up, just like I forced you to watch me do to myself? You want to hold a gun to my throat like I did to you? No, because I'd low-key like it."

Yes, he would. So no, you didn't want it.

"C'mon, think. I'm at your mercy, I'm all yours. There's definitely one thing you want and you're just too much of a pussy to say it."

Why were you letting him do this? Why did you just accept that it was the world according to Nate?

"You wanna know what I think, huh? Huh? I'll tell you what I think.", he murmured. "I think you want me to care."

That got your attention. "Care?"

"I think you actually want me to give a shit about you, so you can justify to yourself why you keep lettin' this happen, don'tcha?", he asked, thumb rubbing your jawline. "You want me to stop acting like this whole thing between us is a game. You want me to acknowledge what I'm doing to you."

You hated this. You hated when men were right - it was ridiculous. And you absolutely despised when Nate was right, because it was dangerous.

"Look, I just want you out of my life, Nate.", you lied.

That had come out way too fast. That was the easiest thing he could do. That was the kindest thing you could have ordered him to do. That was mercy.

So why was he acting like you'd just asked him to jump into a fire?

"That's it?"

He didn't buy it. And neither did you. Because yes, you'd technically be very reasonable to want him out of your life. But no, the danger, the unnecessarily sexy amount of mortal peril you'd be in every second that you were around him- it was your fucked up version of heroin.

"I don't think you understand just what you're asking. You're going to miss me."

You scoffed and he shrugged, in a gesture that only seemed pitiful, as though he were allowing you to believe that for the time being.

'Denial isn't just a river in Egypt, baby', you could almost hear him snark.

"What if I miss you?"

You shrugged, downing another shot - one you'd stolen from a drunk girl this time. "I dunno. Just don't."

"You'll still come to games? Fist-bump me?"

"Still come to games? I guess, maybe? I'll high-five you, or something."

"I'll think it over." Wait, wasn't he the one who was making an offer?

═════════════════════ 🧿 ════════════════════

He found you almost fifteen minutes later, probably after mulling it over with a drink.

"I accept your terms. I'll go out of your life, starting Monday. However, I've got a little som'n som'n to show you.".

An AK-47? An atom-bomb? A grave he dug specially for you?

"It's a surprise. Only an hour. That's all I'm asking."

Only your sanity. That's all he was asking.

You'd promised yourself you'd never take anything from Nate Jacobs again, and you'd stuck to it.

I mean.

That was until he'd offered you molly.

Molly made you happy.

Molly made you forget stuff, like college apps, the loss of your internship and the fact that you'd basically been lying to your family the entirety of last week about the scar on your forehead.

But how he'd found that out was a question for the ages. And he seemed to know exactly what molly did to you.

And you best believe he was milking it.

"I want to get a tattoo."

"Okay...?"

"Correction : I want us to get a tattoo.", he whispered, before tsk-ing at your derisive snort. "C'mon, you get to draw whatever you want on me and I'll get it tattooed, I promise!"

"Tattoos are permanent, Nate."

"And you know what? So am I. In your life. In your head. On your lips.", he reminded, grinning mischievously, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth.

You barely fought against him - the ecstasy sprinting through your blood vessels - and you found yourself lying back on the grass, his hands bracketing your hair.

"Just fucking draw something on me, Y/N. Come on. And I'll draw something on you. Yeah? Sound good?", he asked, his hand creeping up your shirt with surprising reverence.

He chuckled breathily against your lips, shaking his head as he rolled off you, lying next to you.

"I'll draw something nice and meaningful. And you get to, as well. Nothing cheesy, though. Like a fucking arrow-heart or an anchor or some shit."

"How about a star?"

"What, a star is not cheesy? That's the cheesiest thing ever. That's the pussy tattoo.", he muttered, before looking up at your eyes, sighing magnanimously. "What kind of star?"

"The ones that are hard to draw. With all the lines."

"Really, Y/N? I give you the chance to mark my body up and you want the hardest thing to draw from second grade?"

"Where'd you want it?"

"Where will you be willing to touch me?"

That was a million dollar question. Willing is a very subjective term.

"Neck. Under my ear."

You nodded, taking the pen he'd brought and gently tracing out a couple stars under his neck. He played with some of your hair that had fallen in front of his face, with terrifying dedication, as you did so. "Yeah. Done. You actually getting this tattooed?"

"Now you.", he ordered, grabbing your wrist, not answering the question. Red flag number eleven thousand. The pen lid in his mouth and a focused furrow to his brow, he began drawing.

"Infinity symbol.", he informed you, before you could even ask.

"Why?"

"I dunno. It's meaningful. 'To infinity and beyond'. Favourite Disney Movie, right?"

"That is not my favourite-"

"Yeah, well, it's mine. Buzz Lightyear is like, my hero.", he muttered, rubbing his thumb over the drawing and then kissing it softly, all while looking at you.

"Really? You seem like a Big Hero 6 guy to me."

He laughed deeper. "You always take me so seriously."

"Fuuuck, I know I'm not supposed to say this..."

He lolled his head over to you. "You could tell me you're Ted Bundy reincarnate and I'd still smash."

You decided to ignore that comment. "I'm not supposed to say this, but... but I get why Rue did it. Like Jesus fucking Christ."

He nodded in understanding, looking at the tiny packet that still had a couple pills in it. "She was just too weak to limit herself. But we got no limits. You got infinity on your wrist."

"Look, Nate, I can't tattoo that shit. My family would kill themselves."

"Same."

"Then why did you-"

"We're gonna do something that could go either way. It could either freak you out or turn you on. On the off chance that it's both, then we're more similar than you realize.", he slurred, lazily brushing hair behind your ear. "'Kay?"

"What are we gonna do?", you asked, trying your hardest to pull away, but the ecstasy made you genuinely defenceless against human touch. And it didn't help that Nate was holding your arms tightly down on the ground, as if he were trying to plant roots.

"We're going to carve the tattoos."

He said it so conspiratorially. As though this was your secret to surviving the zombie apocalypse. And his fucking eyes. Glowing like fireworks. Glowing like a child finally being told he could get what he wanted for Christmas.

"WHAT?!"

He licked his lips with an almost roll of his eyes as he looked up at you, because you were so clearly overreacting, right? Slitting your own skin in the shape of an infinity on it was a perfectly normal teenage activity. Of course. Drinking, smoking, fucking, slicing.

"I'll do it. I'm experienced, as you know.", he scoffed, his lips at your shoulder now. "We only have about fifteen minutes left of your curfew, Y/N, please. Please? Play nice."

The molly was clouding your senses, clearly. You could tell because a) you were still having this conversation and b) you didn't even question how he knew what time your curfew was, and c) you hadn't punched him yet.

"Think about it, it's less permanent than a tattoo, baby, please."

And then he placed another one of those little pink pills on your tongue, pressing down and forcing you to swallow.

MONDAY.

The scream came too late to your liking.

You'd tried to scream faster, but everything had come rushing back to you. The fever dream was not a dream. It's always relieving when terrible 'realities' end up only being dreams. It's a different kind of terror when you realize that the nightmare was real.

The number eighteen was etched on your wrist like a pathetic mark, like... like a brand.

You couldn't even begin to figure out just what the fuck that was supposed to be. Eighteen? How was that meaningful? The year it becomes legal to have sex? Freedom, maybe? Joy?

He wanted this aneurysm in your head. He'd placed it there.

FUCK !

FRIDAY.

"What? What is it you want?!"

He frowned, his face softening out of genuine confusion, making him look almost comically harmless in the harsh stadium lighting. "You said you'd still fist-bump me."

"What does 18 mean?"

He shrugged, holding out his fist. You rolled your eyes, bumping it with your own. And then, after telling yourself you were imagining the ghost of a smirk on his lips, you froze. Because he'd turned, running off to the middle of the field. You saw his back.

His jersey. 18. FUCK. He blew you a kiss about two seconds before the ball was passed to him. 18. FUCK.

"Did you just fist-bump Nate?"

"Yeah."

"Why?", asked Maddy, scoffing softly.

"He was talking to me about the project and then he said he had to go, so I wished him luck and... I guess I fist-bumped him."

"Oh, yeah, ew, the project. How's that going?"

"I scrapped it."

"Why?", she questioned, after shaking her pom-poms and screaming out some over-enthusiastic cheer.

"I don't fucking like him. At all. He's a DICK."

"What? No way. I had no idea.", she muttered sardonically, slinging an arm around your shoulder. "But was it, like, really bad?"

You nodded.

"After the game, you wanna do molly?"

"No." The reply was almost immediate.

"You don't wanna do molly? Don't bullshit me. Shut up. You're doing it with me."

You'd have hugged Maddy for knowing you so well if you weren't so focused on the big, blue, number 18 running on the field, matching the big, red one staying still on your wrist.

FRIDAY, 9PM

Staying over at Maddy's was an offer you shouldn't have declined, because it was getting genuinely infuriating how Nate found out things.

You were still extremely lacking in sobriety when he'd crawled into your bed that night, covering your mouth to make sure you didn't scream. How? Million dollar question.

"You want me to tell you a secret?"

"A secret? Wait, not some bullshit about my lips that you came up with?"

"I listened to Queen."

You sat up. "WHAT?"

He chuckled, sitting up as well and tilting his head while resting it on his knees. "What? Elvis, too. I even watched Blue Hawaii. I low-key liked it. Why? Would it have changed your mind?"

You frowned for a moment, before shaking your head. "Still would've been nice to know."

"Okay, how about you just kiss me now, Rue 2.0?", he asked, tracing out the number eighteen on your wrist before looking up at you through slightly furrowed brows. That was a challenge, of sorts, that gaze.

"You have something to ask me." Didn't take a genius to figure it out. Insinuation was painted all over his face. He had an accusation and he needed you to defend it.

"When Shane fucked you, where'd he come?"

You frowned, staring at him for a moment. "Yo, I- what? Where is this coming from?"

"At practice he was saying he fucked you."

"He's a dickwad, of course he did."

"It doesn't bother you that he's spreading that shit?"

"If I paid attention to every rumour some butthurt, fragile-ego jock spread about me, I wouldn't have time to fucking study."

"Your reputation's gone, though. That's fine for you?"

You sucked on your teeth for a moment before exhaling. "You're here to find out if I'm easy?"

He looked at you for a moment, his expression unreadable.

"If I did this, Y/N, would you stop me?", he asked, shifting to his knees at the foot of the bed. "Hm? If I just...", he trailed off, kissing up your knee to your thigh.

"Nate. Stop."

"That's not stopping me.", he murmured, gripping your back and yanking you closer.

You kicked him away, grimacing. "Get out."

He gazed up at you, and for a moment there, it seemed like he was rooting for you, for the rumours to just be cruel rumours and not true.

"Get OUT!"

"You can't let me kiss you and then just... it doesn't work like that."

The world looked glittery and he looked godly kneeling down there.

His tongue licked slowly up your inner thigh. "C'mon. Take it off. It's just me."

"Get out."

He rolled his eyes, yanking your shorts down himself. "I fucking...", he murmured, voice muffled against your skin. "Love you."

"You don't fucking love me!" You were struggling but it was fruitless.

"I could."

"Get out, I'm not bullshitting."

"C'mon.", he murmured, reaching up to unhook your bra before pressing a kiss to your inner thigh. "C'mon."

"No! Get off!" His hand held you down.

"Just let me-", he muttered, his fingers finally removing your underwear as he pressed a chaste kiss higher up your thigh. Your breath hitched and his smirk widened, albeit, with a bit of disappointment. "There we go."

Kicking him away, you finally snapped. Maybe it was the molly. Maybe it was his tongue. Maybe it was the fact that he'd somehow found out that molly made you make extremely bad decisions. Maybe it was the fact that he knew you wanted nothing more than to fuck him that night.

"GET THE FUCK OUT, NATE! YOU SAID YOU'D LEAVE ME ALONE MONDAY, IT'S FRIDAY! GET THE FUCK OUT, PLEASE!" He took every kick and every punch like a total champ, you'd give him that.

The disappointment left, and he smiled, softly, caringly, like a mother hanging up her child's drawing on the fridge, as he wiped your tears away.

Standing up, he grabbed your hair, staring into your eyes so deeply you were half-wondering if they'd changed colour, before patting your shoulder. "I'm proud of you."

Proud for disproving a rumour?

You watched his shadow on your wall as it climbed down the window behind you.

Look, one thing could be said. Nate Jacobs was a man of his word. He did not speak to you. He did not text you. He did not acknowledge you.

You'd blocked him online and he'd blocked you in real life.

However, his other account still kept tabs on you.

Average social media interaction.

Shane Crestin ended up in the ER later that night.

Average Nate Jacobs interaction.

285 notes · View notes

rogueddie · 2 years ago

Text

When Steve wakes up, he is very confused. His room looks very different and unfamiliar- but he knows it's his. It still has the plaid wallpaper his mom had picked out for him (he hadn't liked it, but there was a lot of lines and pretty colors).

The toy car his babysitter, Sarah, had gotten him for his fifth birthday isn't on his dresser anymore. He knows that she'd left it there for him last night, playfully insisting that he couldn't play with it until his actual birthday.

He'd been so excited to play with it. He wants to cry, and wail. He wants to run to his parents and scream until they give it back.

But they aren't home. That's why his babysitter had been over the previous night. They have a very important business trip that they aren't allowed to miss, not even for Steve's birthday.

The pictures in the hall look different too. Sarah had put up some cool pictures for him. She'd done the same for his fourth birthday. They had to take them down at the end of the day, but it had been nice to have family pictures up. Even if it was just for a day.

Sarah isn't downstairs.

He almost does scream this time. She'd promised that she'd stay the night, sleeping on the sofa, so he could have pancakes for breakfast. It's one of the many things that he can't, or isn't allowed, to make on his own.

His cake isn't in the fridge either. He even pulls a chair over so he can climb on it, to see if she'd hidden it on one of the higher shelves.

He sits on one of the dining chairs, watching the clock, and waiting.

After two hours pass, he gives up any hope he has.

Sarah, just like his parents, is probably too busy for him. He reasons that she probably just forgot to tell him. His mom had done that one time- it had stung, but he couldn't blame her. He forgot lots of stuff, even if it is important.

The only cereal in the pantry is some plain, corn brand that he doesn't recognise. It tastes just as bad as it looks, but there isn't a lot of food anymore.

At least, not a lot that he can make.

He has a second bowl, putting a few spoons of sugar in. It's not much better, but he doesn't feel so hungry anymore.

The TV looks different too. There's weird and new things playing. It's fun, interesting, and distracts him well enough that he's able to keep himself from worrying about how long he'll have to be alone again.

The next day goes the same.

The third day, he risks cooking. It ends up a little burnt, but it's better than cereal all the time.

The fourth day, he can't eat the food he tries to cook. It smells too nasty. He has to have cereal again. The sugar helps.

The fifth day, he doesn't risk cooking. His parents have never left him alone, without a babysitter, for more than a week, so he'll have a nice meal soon.

The sixth day, he checks their voicemail. There's a few odd messages from grown up sounding people, asking about how he's feeling, but he doesn't recognise any of their voices. He doesn't know what numbers he should try calling. He hopes they try calling again.

The seventh day, he sits at the bottom of the stairs. He stares at the front door, ready to jump up and give his mom and dad a warm welcome home.

The eighth day, he's starting to worry. Surely his parents will remember to call a different babysitter?

The ninth day, there's a key in the door. He almost misses it, sat in the kitchen, glaring at his cereal.

"Steve!" Someone calls. It sounds like one of the nice, unfamiliar grown ups who left a voicemail message. "Stevie! You here? How are- oh my god."

"Hi," Steve greets. He waves, tries giving his most polite smile. He almost forgets to keep his lips shut- his dad told him that his teeth don't look nice enough for a grin that big yet. "You're one of the nice people who left me a message, right?"

She stares at him for a long moment, mouth hanging open. "Steve?"

"That's me! What's your name?"

"Robin."

He sticks a hand out to her. "I's nice to meet you Miss Robin!"

"Yeah," she replies, voice high and thin. Her hand is trembling when she gently shakes his hand. "I'm... gonna need to use your phone. Real quick, ok?"

"Um... ok. But you can't make long distance calls, mommy will be very mad at me." He bites his thumb nail, following her into the hall. "Are you a babysitter? Is Sarah sick?"

"Sarah?" Robin echoes, questioningly. She's only half paying attention though, pushing in a phone number.

"My babysitter. She was supposed to be here for my birthday."

"It's your birthday?" She chokes out, spinning around so fast she stumbles. She looks heartbroken.

"Not anymore! It's ok, you don't need to be sad. She gave me my present early too, so it was good."

"Wait. How long have you been... what have you been eating?"

"Um. Cereal, mostly. All the food is different. It's weird."

"That's not- oh, hi," she turns away slightly, talking to whoever is on the phone. "Yeah, I'm at Steve's right now. Gather, like, everyone. We have a major emergency."

"No!" Steve quickly says. He tugs at the bottom of her top. "Not an emergency! You can't say that, you'll get me in trouble!"

"You don't understand, this is-"

"No, please," he pleads. He can only hope he won't get in trouble for talking back to her. "I'm sorry."

"Ok, ok, alright," she agrees. She pauses for a second, listening. "No, that was Steve. Yeah, exactly, that's why-"

"Tell them it isn't an emergency. Please. If dad hears, I'll be in big trouble."

"Ok, big guy. It's not an emergency. Just... yeah, do that. Yeah. Alright. No, I'll be fine. I can deal with it. Ok, see you soon."

She hangs up with a sigh, turning to look at him. She still looks sad.

"Are you ok, Miss Robin?"

Her laugh sounds strained, but she laughs. "I'm alright. How are you?"

"I'm ok. Do you know when mommy and daddy will be back?"

"I don't. I'm sorry, Stevie."

"It's ok. It's only, like... I can't really, uh, cook."

"I can make you something. What's your fave? It was your birthday, you said? Let's get you something special! How old are you?"

He stumbles a little, trying to keep up with her fast talking as well as he long strides. "I'm five. Sarah was going to make me pancakes."

"We can do pancakes." She searches the cupboards and fridge, frowning. "Where is anything?"

"I dunno. I looked but everything is all gone or weird."

"Well... we'll just have to have pancakes later. Special pancakes, for the special birthday boy."

"I guess."

She steps close, putting her hands on her hips as she looks him over. "Are you sure you're five? Did you hit your growth spurt early? You're getting real big."

"I dunno. Mommy says I'm gonna be tall and be a real ladies man, or something."

"Do you even know what that means?"

"Not really. Mommy thinks it's cool though."

"Hm. Are you too big to pick up?"

"Oh, you're not supposed to. Daddy says I'm a big boy now. Big boys don't get picked up."

"Your dad's an asshole."

Steve giggles, quickly covering his mouth with both hands. "You're not supposed to say that! It's a naughty word!"

"Supposed to do this, supposed to do that," she tutts. She leans down, scooping him up into her arms, resting him on her hip. "Your five, stop being so boring!"

Her hand feels so big on his back, like there's no way he could fall with her holding him. She doesn't even seem to mind his hand automatically grabbing the collar of her shirt.

"Daddy doesn't like it when people pick me up."

"What do you like? Hm? Do you want me to put you down?"

"... No."

"Then I'm not putting you down. Daddy isn't here to tell us off, is he? And what he doesn't know, can't hurt him."

She bounces him a few times, making him giggle. Judging by her satisfied grin, that was her aim.

It confuses him, a little. Mostly because she keeps doing that- little things, little comments, trying to make him laugh. Trying to make him smile. Even just listening to him talk about things. Little things. Silly things. Like she isn't annoyed when he goes on, and on, and on.

By the time another person comes in, he's decided that she's the best person in the whole wide world. If she puts him down or tries to leave, he's going to throw a tantrum.

He knows it's bad, but he doesn't want her to leave too. She's cool.

"Oh, God. Robin, please tell me that the baby isn't Steve."

"He's five," Robin corrects. "And yes, it's Steve. I checked, it's him."

"What the hell happened to him?"

"I don't know, I called you!"

"Is something wrong with me?" Steve asks, voice quiet and timid.

"No!" Robin quickly tries to say, at the same time the man says, "yes, obviously."

"Dustin!" Robin scolds.

"What? Lying to him won't help!"

"Neither will being a dick about it!" She tutts at him, adjusting Steve in her arms when she looks to him. "It's nothing, like, bad. It's just kinda weird. See, when we saw you, a week ago... you were a little bit older than me. And now you're five."

Steve stares at her for a moment. She looks too serious, too honest.

"Weird," he says.

"Exactly," she agrees. "From what you've said, though, it's not that bad. You're still you, and you're healthy. You're just... not so big."

"Maybe El can fix him," Dustin mutters, squinting at Steve. He leans close. "When did this happen?"

"He's been like this for a week," Robin tells him. Her voice is quiet, almost scared- it doesn't help that Dustin looks horrified too. "At least."

"Who's been taking care of him?"

"No one."

"What the hell," Dustin turns his frown on Steve. "Why didn't you call anyone?"

"Not supposed to unless it's a real emergency," Steve says. "Mommy says she has a repo... rep... rep-yuh-tay-shun. It's a big thing."

Dustin looks heartbroken, turning to Robin, who shrugs back at him. He groans after a pause, frowning at Robin. "Shit. You can't drive."

"Oh, shit."

"I'll call Eddie," Dustin sighs, already heading to the hall.

"Who's Eddie?" Steve asks.

"Eddie's a friend. He looks a little scary, but don't worry. He's a big softie, an absolute teddy bear." She leans close, whispering loudly with a grin. "Don't tell him I told you, though. He likes to pretend that he's all tough and mean."

"And he's... not mean?"

"Not a cruel bone in his body."

"Ok," he bites at his thumb, frowning when Robin gently pulls his hand out his mouth. "You won't leave though, right?"

"I'm not going anywhere."

"You gotta promise, though! Pinky Promise!" He lifts a hand, sticking his pinky up- Robin almost immediately wraps her own around his.

"I promise I won't leave you. Who knows what could happen if I leave you alone with the gremlins." She pretends to shudder. "Oh, the horrors.."

"He'll be here in five minutes," Dustin announces.

"That's... quick."

"Yeah. I barely got out 'Steve is in trouble' before he hung up."

"Maybe don't start like that next time," Robin rolls her eyes. She adjusts Steve again, trying to sit him higher on her hip. "He's probably breaking at least, like, five speeding laws or something."

"I don't think that's how it works."

"Whatever." She huffs. "Jesus. Steve, bud, I might need to put you down for a sec."

"Oh... um... do you have to?"

"My arms are really starting to hurt, bud," she says. She looks as upset at the idea as he feels. "Maybe we could sit down together. Would that be a good compromise?"

"Yeah!" He grins. "What's a comp- compa-"

"Com-pruh-mise." She says it slowly, careful to sound it out, as she sits down on the sofa. She pulls Steve around so he's sat on her knees, facing her. She keeps one hand on his back, supporting him.

"Com-pa-mise," Steve repeats.

"Oh, that was great!" Robin encourages, laughing at how big and excited Steves responding grin is. "Well, compromise is when..."

Robin is so patient with him, taking her time with him, making sure he understands what she's saying- before easily jumping onto whatever tangent he brings up.

It feels like only a few minutes have passed by the time the doorbell rings. Dustin stands to answer- Steve had completely forgotten he was there the whole time, too caught up in his conversation with Robin.

He doesn't come back for a moment. Steve can hear muttering, straining to hear what they're saying, but the living room doors shut.

A man follows him inside. He's tall, with long hair and dark clothes. He looks different to anyone Steve has ever seen before. He looks scary.

"Oh god," he mumbles, frowning at Steve. "You're not joking."

Steve tugs at Robins sleeve, leaning close to her, whispering, "who's that?"

"Oh, right!" Robin groans when she stands, lifting Steve with her. "Steve, this is Eddie. Eddie, this is Steve."

"This is Steve," Eddie repeats. "Jesus Christ."

"Why do you look so scary?" Steve blurts out. He slaps a hand over his mouth, horrified.

But Eddie just laughs. "Damn, Stevie, tell me what you really think."

"You do!" Steve snaps, face warming. "All the black and chains and stuff."

"Robin is wearing 'black and chains and stuff'."

"Yeah, but Robins cool."

"You wound me," Eddie gasps, slapping a hand to his chest. "I'm totally cooler than Robin."

"Nope," Robin quickly cuts in. "Steve said I'm cool, not you. It's been said, declared- no, decreed! Facts are facts, Eds, suck on it!"

"Ew," Steve and Eddie say in sync, grimacing.

"Alright," Dustin interrupts, hands on his hips. "You're introduced, now can we go? Now?"

Part two

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #ficlet #stevecentric #I've been trying to remember where I wanted to go with this but failing miserably so I'm just posting it #it's not great but I like it so 🤷‍♂️

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mintmatcha · 1 year ago

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tw: implied abuse, no curses au

"Can I ask a question?" Yuuji digs his heel into the wood chips as he swings, digging a growing trench behind him. "You don't have to answer."

Ash falls from the end of Choso's cigarette. He leans against the anchor of the swing set, cheek against cold metal, and sighs. Twilight has passed and the streetlights have turned on, giving the playground a hazy, barely lit glow. Yuuji's guardian will start calling soon, but Choso decides the extra time together is worth the future ire.

"I already told you that I'm not giving you a tattoo."

"Aw, damn-" Yuuji clicks his tongue against his teeth. Ever since they met, he's been dying for a tattoo of his own, throwing out wild new ideas almost every day. One day, when he's eighteen and likes an idea for more than a month, Choso will bring him to his studio and comply.

But, not yet.

"That wasn't my question though," Yuuji says.

"Then go for it."

The younger boy takes a deep breath, then lets it out even slower, pulling the tension longer and longer until it snaps.

"Why weren't you... around? Like, when I was a kid and stuff."

Choso takes his own breath.

"Your mom-- our mom." The taste of that sits bitter on his tongue. He never called her mom, even back then. "She was different for me."

And for our other brothers, he adds silently. Yuuji doesn't need to carry that weight yet, the knowledge that he was the exception to it all.

"Why?" Yuuji pumps his legs a little softer, the back and forth motion of the swing slowly dying out.

"I dunno." Choso wishes he had the answer to that. "She was sixteen, did bad things. Don't worry about it."

Finding out about Yuuji wasn't a shock, somehow. Years after Ken had surrendered her children to the state, Choso had received noticed that she had died. The news felt overdue. No tears were shed, no love lost; the group chat of siblings had all agreed not to go to any service, but the day of, Choso had changed his mind.

He had put on his nicest outfit -some thrift store pants that didn't fit and a shirt he stole from foster dad three- and went expecting to be the only one there, the only one willing to say goodbye.

Choso hadn't known about her new family. They hadn't known about him either. It was typical of Ken to leave a mess in her wake.

Turns out, through a series of lucky breaks, the woman had clawed her way out of poverty and into the arms of a rich, but nice man. Her life was easy and sweet, filled with luxuries and love, including a son ten years younger than her eldest.

No one knows why Yuuji was different than the others, why she decided to be good to him and no one else. Mental illness is strange like that, picking and choosing how it pleases.

Yuuji huffs, gripping the metal chains tighter. "But-"

"Yuuji." Choso drops his cigarette and crushes it under his boot. Then, he thinks about the child that will play there tomorrow, shoveling wood chips into their mouths like idiots, and decides to pick it up. He jams it into his pocket. "You have good memories of her. Don't ruin that."

He used to resent how much Yuuji loved her. He was eight when she died, the same age Choso was when he first had to dial 911 for her. That anger had long faded, replaced with a strange amount of pity.

"But I want to know. What she did and stuff." Yuuji's voice jumps high with emotion. "I'm basically an adult, I can handle it."

"You're sixteen."

"Well, mom was doing this stuff at sixteen, so-" Yuuji is seething suddenly, brow furrowed and teeth grit.

"So?"

"So, she was old enough to be doing bad things and I'm not old enough to know about it?" He stands and the swing clatters behind him. He's stocky, yet tall, bunched with muscles that he's built from baseball. On one side of his cheek, there's a bit of chocolate stuck there, a remnant from the ice cream Choso bought him. Below it, there's a rosy hickey on his neck, a remnant of the boyfriend he hasn't told Nanami about yet. He thinks they're having sex, maybe, but doesn't know how to broach the topic without scaring his brother into never talking about it again.

"And you had tattoos at my age, by the way!"

Choso lets him stew in it, huffing and puffing. The blown out edges of first tattoo peek from under his sleeve, the image barely legible now. An older woman gave it to him at fifteen, in the basement of her house. It became so insanely infected that he ended up in the ER a couple days later.

"I'm not a kid. I can handle it." Yuuji states, calm and clear. "I'm not a kid."

A car passes, it's headlights stretching and pulling the shadows across the park. In the changes, Choso can see his mother in his brother, those soft eyes and thin lips and the same slightly crooked nose that Choso has himself. He thinks, maybe, if time was kinder and his father was better, they'd look more alike each other, but then the moment is gone and they no longer even look like siblings.

"Okay."

Yuuji untenses a bit. "Okay?"

"Okay."

"Like, okay, this conversation is done, or okay, I'll tell you?"

"I'll tell you," Choso says, jamming his hands in his pocket. The cigarette butt is there, mushed and still warm against his knuckles. "But not tonight."

"What?!"

"Next time, I promise."

Choso doesn't understand why Yuuji insists on rushing away from innocence, but he knows that he can't stop him. Yuuji will find out about the abuse, the neglect, the other brothers, and the other horrors in some way or another and then things will never be the same.

"Stay a kid just a little longer." Choso resists the urge to ruffle his hair. "For me?"

"Yeah, sure," Yuuji sighs. "One more day."

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all-purpose-dish-soap · 5 months ago

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50 / 820 words / for @keegansshark who converted me to the cult of Hesh <3

...

"Anyone sitting here?"

"Uh, no. Knock yourself out."

You sit down across from Hesh. The mess hall isn’t crowded yet. You have plenty of space. "So. About yesterday."

"Remind me,” he says. “It's been a long week."

You roll an orange in your palms. "I was just wondering. Do you want to?"

"Want to what?"

You stare at him, brows raised, curving your thumbnail into the rind until it dawns on him.

"Oh. That."

You've never seen him nervous, and most people wouldn't peg him as nervous right now. You can see it, though.

"I think so. Yeah. I mean, yeah." Hesh looks down at his tray. "I want to."

You begin peeling the skin off in one long strip. "Haven't had time?"

"I haven't, no. I've... you know... been focused on other things." Hesh takes a long swallow of water. “Military stuff."

"Dad stuff."

"Yeah. Dad stuff."

"You looking to change that?"

"Eventually."

"Hm." You dig your nail into a stubborn bit of orange skin. "But not yet?"

Hesh falters. His eyes flicker down to your hands. "The issue isn’t when I want to. It’s how.”

“Ah.”

“I've never actually dated. Or had a girlfriend. I don't know where to start."

"If you want to give it a shot, I can help you out."

Hesh blinks like he's not sure you meant what you just said. "You? Help me out with women?"

You snort. "Not with women. With sex."

Hesh's brow furrows. "What?"

"You said you’re interested in sex. I'll have sex with you if you want."

For several seconds, Hesh doesn't respond. Then he asks, "Why?"

You shrug and tilt your gaze to the side, glancing at the other soldiers in the cafeteria. They don't pay your conversation much attention. "Because this is No Man's Land. If you're waiting for a golden opportunity, you'll probably die before it comes along."

"No, I mean-- why not one of the other guys in our unit?"

"Pretty sure you could get one of them to do it for you if you prefer that. Keegan once told me about this one time when he--"

"No. No, I mean," Hesh says hastily, "why me? Why are you offering me, uh... what you're offering me?"

You peer at him. He doesn't look nervous, but the tips of his ears turn a darker shade of pink. You lean back and bite an orange slice in half. "Because you've never done it."

"Right. But, I mean, that's not a reason." Hesh pauses, searching for the right words. "You can't possibly be interested in me."

"We're friends, aren't we?"

Hesh glances away again. Friends is strong language for it. "Still."

"You want to know what's in it for me," you guess.

"Yes. I do." Hesh crosses his arms, waiting for you to speak. You pop an orange slice in your mouth and chew slowly. Then you peel away another two slices and begin stripping them of their stringy pulp. "Yeah, what is in it for you?"

"I mean, I’m no golden opportunity, but I’d feel sad if you died tomorrow never having known the touch of another person or whatever. Life sucks out here. We have to take small pleasures where we can get them." You pull a piece of rind out of your teeth and flick it into the pile of orange skins. "Something like that."

"So, out of pity."

At his deadpan look, a smirk spreads across your face. "If that's what you wanna call it. I don't make this offer to everyone, if that's what you're asking. It's Merrick's job to fuck the newbies, not mine."

Hesh's eyebrows shoot up.

"I'm kidding."

“Uh huh.” He's not sure how to feel. It's almost a relief that it's not about him, personally. It's not about him at all. Just No Man's Land. "Aren't there rules about that? Fraternizing, or... or whatever."

You tilt your head at him. It's a little funny to see him flustered. He has the whole act down, usually—refined, quiet, confident strength. Almost a perfect soldier. Lab-grown for the Ghosts.

“It's fine, Hesh, really. No big deal either way. You know where my bunk is if you change your mind.” You scoop orange peel scraps off the table. “You've got a night if you want it."

"Wait," Hesh says as you rise. "It's not that, it’s…”

As you walk away, Hesh barely quashes the sudden urge to stand up, back straight, like the goddamn president is leaving the mess hall. He's not even sure what he wants to say. There’s a strange desperation in his gut to keep the conversation from ending yet.

Instead, he watches you go and his stomach flips sideways.

You dump your orange peel into the compost and head for your bunk. Merrick sits at the fringe of the cafeteria. He looks at you, then at Hesh, and his brow creases in confusion. You shake your head as if to say nah, don't ask.

...

more call of duty: ghosts / masterlist tag

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systemadministratorclu · 1 year ago

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Y'all, I just HAD to share this, because holy shit.

A little background first:

I run the drive-thru cash register window at a fast food joint. One of the shittiest jobs there is because some of the rudest/stupidest people on the planet come through the drive-thru, and one must have near superhuman patience to deal with it. That said, there are customers who come regularly and are not hard to deal with at all. And then there are some-very few and far between-that restore your faith in humanity a little every time they come.

This is about one such customer.

This guy comes every day at about the same time with his grandson (6 years old when this started, recently turned 7) and gets the exact same thing every time. To the point where now either I see their car or I hear the guy say his name (whichever happens first) and I'm already ringing them up. Because of this, the kid now thinks I have weirdly specific psychic powers, and has said he prefers coming to the place when I'm there. He's also decided I'm the best employee this place has. The granddad talks to me like I'm a human, they're always smiling and happy to see me (which means a lot in this line of work, let me tell you) and even on my shittiest days, they've managed to make me smile. I genuinely look forward to seeing these people every day.

Recently, grandson was hella excited to tell me he had a birthday coming up. Reminded me every day "my birthday's coming!" as most 6yo kids do.

Maybe I was feeling a little holiday spirit or something, but one day after work, I went to the Dollar Tree near the restaurant. I picked out a kid's birthday card and a Christmas card. I wrote a message in the Christmas one about what I just explained above, thanking them for bringing some joy to my days, because y'know what? People need to hear that shit. Especially in today's world. And I wanted them to know how much this meant to me. I wrote a little joke in the birthday card about not forgetting the day. Then I looked in my wallet, saw I had a $10 and a $1, and stuck the $10 in the birthday card. Addressed the birthday card to the kid and the Christmas one to kid and grandpa. I give the cards to them on their normal drive-thru visit. They are of course surprised (kid starts yelling "thank you" even though he hasn't gotten to open it yet) but thankful. Then the line moves on.

Fast forward to today.

I see the car come in but I don't start ringing the order up, because it's WAY early for them. I give my usual greeting, then I hear a woman's voice, so I think it's someone in the same kind of car. But when she asks "is this Hal?" I then realize it's the kid's mother, whom he has told all about me and who has come through with him before.

I say yes, and she tells me she's not here to order anything, just to see me, since kid and granddad are sick. I tell her to come on to the window, she does, and hands me a card and a nicely wrapped gift. I asked her to tell them hi for me, she said she would and then the line moved.

I got off on lunch break and opened card and gift.

I was not prepared. At all.

This is the gift...

...the card (no writing on the front).....

.....and the typed note inside the card that actually brought tears to my eyes.

......I'm still not over this. I will be thinking about how this went on for OVER HALF A FUCKING YEAR and I had no idea.

This is the kind of stuff that makes this shitty job worth it. People like this....We need more of in this world. I'm going to hold onto that note so when I feel like shit or I don't matter, I can look at it and know there's a kid out there who I am so important to that he got his dad to write a whole-ass letter, to some random stranger he only knows through his son, inviting me to their fucking house. I'm tearing up again as I write this, just thinking about it.

If that doesn't say "you matter", idk what does.

(And yes, I will go at some point, because how can I not? I'm not gonna dash this kid's hopes and make myself look like an enormous asshole. This is the RL version of being handed a toy phone and told it's ringing)

#I'm crying and so are you.#ooc

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charms-cat · 29 days ago

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SPOILERS FOR THE ENTIRE SEASON

Casting

Making famous rapper Choi Seunghyun/TOP play a failed rapper is some perfectly ironic casting 😂

(I know it wasn't intentional. I just thought it was funny)

Fuck Myunggi

Junhee! Kick him to the curb and keep him there! That guy is definitely gonna be a deadbeat dad.

(And, not to get too moral policing here, but it was cruel of her to keep the baby when she knew she was in heavy debt. No child should be born in poverty)

EDIT: somebody misunderstood what I meant by the above paragraph. They thought it was "classist. Every child deserves to live. If the mother decides to have a child, then it's her choice. It's wrong to tell a mother that she should've gotten rid of her baby just bcs she can't provide a perfect life for her child" (not verbatim, but this was the gist). They removed their replies, so let me clarify for anyone else who's confused.

Children are expensive. They will need things or want other things. They might lose a school book or rip their coat or catch an illness or want a toy. All things that need to be fixed, and all of them cost money. And I just don't think it's something children need to be worried about. You might give them an allowance to teach them financial responsibility, but no child should be worried about the income of a household. They shouldn't fear losing or ruining anything bcs they already know that replacing it will be a financial strain on their family. They shouldn't fear the resulting medical care of (being born with/experiencing) poor health bcs they know it'll be (heavier) debt for their family. Children should only worry about childish things, not the potential collapse of their family.

It is not classist to not want a child to be born in poverty. You don't need to provide a "perfect" life for your child. But you wanting a child is not a reason for them to suffer the effects of the life you're currently living.

TLDR; if you can't be comfortable with your child being a little clumsy or careless or sick bcs any of those might be a financial strain, then you shouldn't have children.

I get that Junho didn't want to admit that his brother was the sociopathic Front Man, but he could've just said, "I saw his face but didn't recognise him." People's lives are at stake here, you pig. Smh cops are just useless.

In Junhee's case, we can only hope that she has other friends who'll help her with the baby. Her debt is most likely in the millions, and she already lost both her parents. I'm sure you can ask any parent and they'll tell you that a newborn needs lots of attention. So either she'll need to outsource that vital childcare while she works (bcs I doubt a government check would be enough for both of them) or she needs work that allows her to bring her baby.

STOP KEEPING VITAL INFO TO YOURSELVES FFS

And Jungbae, oh my God. Five seconds to just say "(Youngil) killed someone" and Gihun might've known to be on alert around him. It doesn't take a detective to work out that, "Hey, this guy is going kinda crazy. He might kill us if he needs to. Maybe I should tell someone." Buddy, even if you think he only turned to murder out of a need for survival, he still can't be trusted.

TRAITOR

Y'all I fucking knew that ship captain Park was Suspicious, with a capital S!

+ they made it a point that Wooseok said "which of you got drunk and spilled the intel?" Only to later show him drinking and spilling intel

The very moment he was questioning Wooseok in that restaurant and saying shit like, "I didn't believe him at first," and, most importantly, "so everything (Junho) told me was true?" He was on my impostor radar. Idk how to explain it too well. Like, yeah, I believe Junho would've told him some stuff but telling him "everything"? or enough for him to make a sudden turn from "this is baloney" to "I 100% believe you and in no way do I think all these men are just part of the same cuckoo conspiracy group."

Also, now that it's confirmed that he's a measly fucking rat, I just wanna circle back to the fisherman who said that he was given "leftover bait" by some guy. Who would just have that shit on hand? Fisherman captain Park. Who was "interested" in the drones and how good surveillance is these days? Captain fucking Park. Bastard.

Gyeongseok and Noeul

Do we think Gyeongseok (the dad) is still alive? I think so since they focused on his character but haven't really expanded on his story line + I didn't see a corpse and he wasn't shot in the head so it's pretty suspect + Noeul avoided shooting him in the first game too (for his hair flying. yall, was he supposed to control the wind??) and I'm pretty sure she's the soldier (that shot him) since she was also the only one connected to him outside the game

Add. Note: I really hoped that Noeul had a chance to shoot those rapist bastards during the shootout. Y'know, disguise it as a "why would the players do this? 😔" moment

Death flags 🏴

Hyunju, those fake friends didn't deserve you 😭. I love her. She's been a boss all season.

Gihun saying he'll outlive Jungbae was probably the biggest death flag I've seen so far. But I thought for sure that old guy (10B won in debt) and that shaman were gonna die. I mean,,, telling other people they're gonna die (and you're gonna live) is an ironic death flag.

EDIT: just gonna add that Jungbae also said, "we're both gonna make it out of here" to Gihun + he was the only person to know the "true nature" of the antagonist so that's three different death flags for him 😭

Side note: I found out that the actor for said old guy (Song Youngchang) is a convicted sex offender/rapist. Maybe that's why I wanna see him die so badly.

Hyunju! And Daeho

And I feel sorry for Daeho. I thought he was lil too peppy for a soldier and I was right(?) The guy's never seen live combat.

I just know that your wife, who would've died to bring a life into this world, would be fucking disappointed

HWANG INHO YOU BASTARD

God. The worst part of the whole plan was the fact that they actually got so fucking close, if only they hadn't let that bitch join their ranks

#squid game #squid game spoilers #charms-posts #choi subong #kim junhee #lee myunggi #hwang junho #park jungbae #choi wooseok #park gyeongseok #seong gihun #cho hyunju #kang daeho #hwang inho #kang noeul #squid game season 2 #squid game 2

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livwritesstuff · 11 months ago

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inspired by a reply @gregre369 left on yesterday’s post. this is why i love this site so much bc i had this idea floating aimlessly around my brain for such a long time and then someone says something that just connects all the dots for me so - much thanks <3

tw: brief reference to domestic violence

One of parenthood’s biggest surprises (in Eddie’s opinion, anyway) was how easy talking to his and Steve’s daughters about why his parents aren’t in his life was.

He’d figured it’d be hard to figure out exactly how to explain that his mother's death was the end result of domestic violence caused by his father, who had died in prison twenty years later – but…that about covers it, honestly. Sure, the exact rendition of the story the girls hear varies as they get older, but…it’s pretty straightforward, actually.

Explaining Steve’s situation turned out to be way more complicated for…well, for a lot of reasons, and the fact that his parents are still alive and breathing and choosing to not be around didn't help things at all.

It also didn't help that the girls totally saw Jim and Joyce as Steve’s parents, but it did lead to a conversation that Eddie doesn't think he'll ever forget:

It happened when he was passing through the kitchen to see that Steve was cooking with Moe.

"What're we up to in here?" he asked.

At four years old (she’s actually almost five), Moe has yet to outgrow a phase of picky eating that had started out right around her second birthday. Steve is trying out a new method where he involves Moe in the cooking process in the hopes that she then actually wants to eat the product of her hard work when it’s done. He's seeing varying levels of success.

“We're making burgers,” Moe said, “Poppy’s recipe.”

Eddie looked at Steve skeptically, “Poppy Jim or Poppy Joyce?”

Steve rolled his eyes, “I’m telling Joyce you said that.”

And then he added, “Jim.”

Satisfied, Eddie continued on his way.

“How come you call your dad Jim?” Moe asked.

And that had Eddie pausing in the hallway just out of their line of sight.

“Well, Poppy’s not my dad, sweet pea,” Steve replied.

“Did you not have a dad?”

“I did have a dad – I do. He lives in Indiana with my mom. We don't really talk to each other anymore though."

"Why?"

"When I was younger, I decided that they didn’t take care of me like I needed them too, and Jim and Joyce stepped in to be like my parents instead."

It's not completely accurate, Eddie knows (and he doesn't love the way Steve is shifting culpability away from his parents because that shit was fully on them, but whatever; it's his story and he can tell it however he wants), but just like how their daughters don't have a completely accurate picture of what happened to Eddie's mom either, they know what they need to know for now and they'll hear more down the line.

“But what did your mom and dad do?” Moe asked.

"Well, you know how Daddy and I read to you and play with you and put you to bed and make food for you – it was a little different because I was older and I needed different stuff than that, but…”

Eddie watched Steve look back at their oldest daughter, watched him see the look of confusion in her big brown eyes.

“They didn’t do that?” Moe asked, sounding perplexed.

Steve shook his head, and Moe continued to look at him as if he might suddenly tell her he was joking.

“That’s crazy,” Moe finally said, and Steve let out a laugh.

“It is kinda crazy, isn’t it?” he agreed, “That’s why I love being your dad so much, because it’s actually so easy to want to take care of you. Even though you sometimes like to make it hard on purpose, right?”

“Yeah,” she grinned proudly, “Like when I make you snuggle me more at bedtime and you fall asleep by accident and then the kitchen is messy in the morning."

"Uh-huh," Steve said, poking her in the side so she giggled, "Exactly like that."

"You're a good dad," Moe told him.

"You think?" Steve asked as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

"The best dad."

“The best?” he repeated, “Can’t let Daddy hear that.”

“He can hear it.”

#cue moe yelling for eddie so she can say it to his face #she later affirms it's actually a tie #steddie #liv’s steddie dads verse #steddie dads #steve harrington #eddie munson #tw: domestic violence

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hollowed-theory-hall · 3 months ago

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Hi, Im not sure if youve written anything about this before (I had a quick look but couldnt see anything), but I find Hermione's relationship with her parents kinda interesting. Obviously they're pretty chill with her being a witch — they go to diagon with her at least once and seem quite interested in that sort of thing, they're obviously very proud of her — but by about gof and ootf theyre completely absent from her life. Hermione doesnt seem to go home during that summer holiday and seems to spend the rest with the Weasleys which I find incredibly odd. Her parents were obviously not abusive, nor were they in any sort of danger until dh when Hermione goes on the run (and of course she oblivates them and moves them to Australia first). Voldemort doesnt even make any attacks until hbp because hes lying low. I just cant think why shes suddenly estranged from her parents to the point where they allow their only teenage daughter, who already spends majority of her time in Scotland, to spend her holidays with a family thats already financially struggling?? Surely no actual parent would do that. Of course it could be lazy writing by JK or the rising popularity of Hermione after directorial choices in the films which called for more page-time, but Id be very interested to hear your opinions on the topic because for the life of me I can't figure this out.

(sorry for the long ask)

Hi, no problem about the long ask.

I think Hermione's parents are probably one of the things JKR didn't think through, but I like looking at things like that froma an in universe prespective. And in universe the relationship between Hermione and her parents, while not abusive, has been estranged from day 0.

What I mean by it, is that I don't think Hermione was ever very close to her parents. We see how a muggleborn who is close to his parents acts with Colin Creevey:

“So I can prove I’ve met you,” said Colin Creevey eagerly, edging further forward. “I know all about you. Everyone’s told me. About how you survived when You-Know-Who tried to kill you and how he disappeared and everything and how you’ve still got a lightning scar on your forehead” (his eyes raked Harry’s hairline) “and a boy in my dormitory said if I develop the film in the right potion, the pictures’ll move.” Colin drew a great shuddering breath of excitement and said, “It’s amazing here, isn’t it? I never knew all the odd stuff I could do was magic till I got the letter from Hogwarts. My dad’s a milkman, he couldn’t believe it either. So I’m taking loads of pictures to send home to him. And it’d be really good if I had one of you” — he looked imploringly at Harry

(CoS)

He tries to keep his muggle parents up to date with his life in the wizarding world. He brought a camera explicitly for that purpose. Hermione, on the other hand, never really included her parents in her life. They try to be supportive, they go with her to Diagon, but I'm convinced they know very little of what's going on at Hogwarts with their daughter.

I mean, she probably tells them about her high grades and about Harry and Ron, but she probably never told them about Voldemort, or at least, not much. Or about the bigotry she has to deal with as a muggleborn. I'm also pretty sure she didn't tell them how dangerous Hogwarts is or that she got petrified in 2nd year. I mean, I don't know about you, but if my daughter told me everything that happened to Hermione, I would start asking about alternative magical education that isn't Hogwarts.

I think Hermione was always a lonely child, her parents were likely at work or conventions more often than with her and she is used to hiding things from them. Hermione 100% used to be bullied in her muggle primary school, you see it in how she acts, and I think she didn't tell her parents about that either. So Hermione and her parents were never close in my opinion.

And then, you take this girl who is used to hiding the less pleasant aspects of her life from her parents and send her to the wizarding world. And she's smart, she quickly realizes no one wants to hear about dentists and that she doesn't belong. So she shuts up, she stops bringing her parents up since everyone thinks surgeons are just maniacs who cut into people. So she reads up, she studies everything she can so she would belong, because she never found herself in the muggle world and she loves magic. She loves the wizarding world and chooses to be part of it, even at the price of cutting her parents out of her life.

In first year, Hermione goes back home for Christmas, but from year 2 and onwards she stays at Hogwarts becouse she doesn't want to miss out in that year's mystery, or time with Ron and Harry. She, like Harry, doesn't want to leave the wizarding world for a world they consider worse.

And the fact she does her best to spend more and more time in the wizarding world is an extension of that. It's not that she hates her parents, she loves them, but she loves them less than she loves the wizarding world.

I think, the moment in book 4 in which she took the chance to fix her teeth magically against what her dentist parents would think is right, is a moment that shows that clear choice. Mr. and Mrs. Granger clearly care about Hermione and want what's best for her, but Hermione thinks she is better than them because she is a witch. She treats her parents like children who don't know what's good for them. She knows because she's a witch, so she can send them away for their safety. They might think using magic on her teeth is dangerous, but they're muggles they don't know better. Even Hermione falls into this prevalent mindset among wizards that they know better than muggles.

The Creevy brothers wanted to keep both the wizarding world and their parents. Hermione chose the wizarding world. She figured that if she truly wanted to belong and be up to date with everything, months in the muggle world would make this assimilation harder, so she stayed in the wizarding world. And when the time comes to make a hard decision to Obliviate her parents and send them away, it is easier to rationalize. She hasn't been part of their life for so long anyway, they would hardly notice the difference, besides, she's the witch, she's the one in the know, not them.

It's quite sad, but it's a result of Hermione's decision to assimilate into the wizarding world as if she was always there which is, I think, influenced by the bigotry that is everywhere. I mean, even the Weasleys look down on muggles:

“Are they doctors?” he [Harry] asked Ron quietly. “Doctors?” said Ron, looking startled. “Those Muggle nutters that cut people up? Nah, they’re Healers.”

(OotP)

So, yeah, Hermione chose to be a witch, and to her, that means cutting her parents she was never too close to out of her life.

#harry potter #hp #hp meta #hollowedtheory #asks #curioushabitforarivergod #harry potter meta #hermione granger #colin creevey #muggleborns #wizarding world

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worriedvision · 1 year ago

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Fatherly Headcanons: Wriothesley, Dr Ratio and Heizou.

So I've chucked in Heizou to this because I think the idea of that man having kids is hilarious and the other two are too serious in terms of thoughts lol! Mentions of pregnancy here, reader has biologically had the kids.

If you want one where the kids are adopted, please let me know! Heiziou calls reader 'mommy', but there's no actual kink stuff otherwise!

Wriothesley:

-When you had told him you were pregnant with your first child, you braced yourself for him dumping you on the spot or asking for you to get rid of the child.

-To your surprise, he held back his excitement when asking how long it was, your plans, everything. He wouldn't be able to leave the fortress, but he was already thinking of the best child-friendly room that your child could stay in.

-You decide to keep the child, to Wriothesley's excitement brimming as he twirls you around and kisses you.

-As a dad, he's not the dad who's strict. It's not that he doesn't want discipline - it's that he knows you'll be the one telling off the kids when they've really been rude.

-When the child is a baby, Wriothesley can't stop smiling as he looks at this child - so proud that he has a family despite his initial situation upon entering the palace.

-If your children don't listen to you, he'll warn them with a reminder that once they committed a crime worthy of sentencing, he would not be light on them.

Dr Ratio:

-news quickly spread when you had told your husband you were pregnant, to which he uncharacteristically smiled warmly as he pulled you in, holding your abdomen as he promises to be the best dad in the entire universe.

-definitely the dad that knows fine well that his child is not sick and is simply skiving off, to his child's dismay.

-similarly, he also knows when your child needs a break - which he happily calls the school to inform them he has been experiencing concerning symptoms.

-Changes when you show up with the packed lunch you prepared for him, your child with you.

-"Oh, I must have forgotten my lunch. My darling spouse, you really are the back bone of the family. And this little squirt must be happy to be part of your life, my darling." He pinches the cheeks of his child before standing back up, kissing you softly on the lips before patting your cheek. "Careful - if you aren't, we may have another on the way."

-He is his usual self with everyone else, in the way of dismissing them and wearing his constructed head when he deems it worthy.

Heizou:

-Basically like you're looking after him as well as the child.

-"Mommy, Mommy! What's for dinner!" He would exclaim, to his child's embarrassment.

-"Dad, give mom some time."

-Definitely the guy you didn't think wanted a family. When you told him you were pregnant, he surprised you - he told you that it was a sign, that you two were meant to be.

-As annoying as he was, essentially being like another child, he raked in the money with his job - moreso than usual.

-If he were to cook, there's a chance he would either nuke the entire meal or undercook it to the point you would get sick.

-If you were to have a second child, however, he would mature a bit more. Kujou Sara (a mutual friend) scolded him for being too childish after he ranted to her about you being too serious with the child (after you had cried in her arms about feeling like you were alone in the parenting process).

-After the second child, he begins to actually try - get you the snacks you're craving that he knew from the first pregnancy, take parental leave to keep your first child in check while you took some time to catch up with friends.

-He wobbled at first, but he's more responsible than most give him credit for. Depend on him - if you need more sleep, tell him and he will work his magic.

#heizou x reader #wriothesley x reader #dr ratio x reader

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abbey28 · 1 year ago

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I Will

Second drabble! This one is more centered around the reader and Megumi's relationship as the reader raises him with Satoru. 1,408 words this time <3 It does end with Gojo getting sealed and there is some angst, and I promise that Gojo is actually in it lol! Again can be read as a stand alone fic or in a series, but how I'm writing them right now there really isn't an order to them.

Megumi snuggled closer into your side. You two were on a blanket looking up at the stars while Satoru was busy picking up Tsumiki from her after school clubs. They had run a little late, and with it being fall, the sun had left the sky and there were more things to look up at.

You know that Megumi really enjoys the night and the stars. He has told you about every other constellation and the history behind them on nights like this before, but tonight, he was just silent.

“What’s on your mind, sweet boy?” Megumi let one of your hands gently comb through the spikes of his hair. He hated when Satoru touched his hair, but he found it easy to trust you and let you mess it up.

“I… I’m really… glad you and Gojo got together. And that you are raising us.” A soft smile spread across your face without you knowing as you pulled him a bit closer.

“Oh Megumi. We are also so glad to have you with us. Have I ever told you that you are my favorite person in the whole world?” There was a small pout on his lips that made his cheeks chubbier as he lifted his head more so he could look at you.

Megumi didn’t ever really share things like this often, and it worried you a bit. Was something wrong? He slightly tugged on your sleeve, and you let him fiddle with it while you waited for him to say something else in response.

“Am I really your favorite person? Like, do you, like, love me more than Gojo? And Tsumiki?” You laughed a bit as you lifted the hand that wasn’t in his hair to his cheek as you stroked it softly. He leaned into your hand a bit, unconsciously. Your heart melted a bit.

Satoru did that too. They were a lot more alike than either of them would ever admit.

“Of course. Don’t tell either of them, but you are. Satoru and Tsumiki have each other, so that means you get to be my little boy.” he giggled slightly as you started pressing small kisses all over his face and when your hands started to gently tickle his sides. “You will always have me on your side, ‘k?” Megumi nodded as a rare look of joy was spread over his normally grumpy face.

“I will be on your side too. When you and Gojo get divorced, I’m going to live with you!” the sparkles in his eyes and smile on his face as he said that made you choke out a disbelieved laugh.

“Divorce? Sweety, we would need to be married first.” he just hummed in agreement as he again began to snuggle in closer to you. He must have been getting cold, so you grabbed your jacket that was laying next to you and set it over him. He curled up a bit more so that way he could get more warmth.

“Okay. Once you guy’s get married, I will take your last name, that way you really are my parent.” Scratch what you said earlier about him being quieter.

And where was he hearing all of this stuff?

“If we do get married, we don't all have to have the same last name. If that is okay with you and your sister, you guys could keep your own last name. And Satoru's clan would be upset if I married and didn't take the Gojo name. But if that is the case, you can’t call Satoru Gojo anymore. Otherwise, it will get confusing.”

Megumi’s eyebrows furrowed at that. Satoru had been trying for a solid year to get Megumi to call him anything other than Gojo (ie- his first name, dad, great protector, strongest one.)

The closest he’s come is the nicknames bitch and idiot.

(You suspect he got that from his school- you don’t like it but Gojo insists that it has a good educational system. You suppose that the only other school option you have is jujutsu high, but even with Megumi’s family lineage and cursed technique you have been doing your best to keep both of the kids away from that life. Besides, Satoru and Shoko both have dirty mouths that sometimes slip in front of the kids.)

“I don’t care for Satoru. I think we should kick him out.” That was a lie, and you both knew that it was. Despite his harsh words, Megumi cared for his “surrogate” dad even though he was still incredibly salty to him.

“I don’t think so. I still love him.” He let out a sigh that suggested he was both too tired and sick of this constant talk of your boyfriend.

The two of you lapsed back into silence.

That was until the front door was heard opening and you heard Satoru’s voice yell out, calling your names.

“Honey, I’m home!” You untangled yourself from Megumi as you both got up to greet the other two at the door.

“Hey.” you took bag the he was holding (Tsumiki’s school bag) as Satoru put Tsumiki on the ground after previously being on his shoulders. She ran into another room, most likely the kitchen, as Satoru got down knees and opened his arms.

You watched as he wiggled his eyebrows towards Megumi, who was standing on the sideline.

Megumi shook his head as a look of fear took over his features.

Satoru’s grin widened as he moved closer, close enough so that way he could sweep his feet off the floor as he pressed a flurry of wet kisses all over his kiss.

This was probably bad. Too much affection would probably stop the poor boy's heart. But soon enough both of their giggles filled up the space as Megumi called out uncle. He took a few seconds to catch his breath and readjust his clothes, but once he composed himself he sent a glare at Satoru.

“This is why I hate you. You are my least favorite person.” he then turned around and stalked off to his room. Satoru turned to you, his smile still very much on his face.

“I guess he’s reaching that age. Do you think it will get any easier once they are teenagers?"

“I do”

His eyes softened as he looked into yours, and one of his arms circled around your waist as he pulled you towards him.

He pulled in for a soft kiss, one that made you feel every gallon of he has for you and your small family of four, along for the future you all had together.

Once he pulled away, he kept his forehead against yours as he swayed back and forth a little.

“I don’t know what I would do without you.” Those whispered words warmed your heart. It seemed like today was a day of sweet confessions.

You didn’t know how this had happened.

You held Megumi close to your chest as you felt his tears sink through your uniform.

Nanami was dead, Nobara’s condition was very unstable, some old curse had taken control of the body of an old friend, and your love had been sealed into a box.

Shibuya had gone wrong in all of the worst ways, in ways that led to you comforting your normally emotionless son as he weeped for a person he had spent his young years scheming against. Tears slipped past your eyes as you pressed a kiss on to the top of his head.

Itadori had eaten a lot of fingers, the Zenin clan had come to an end, Tsumiki was now in the culling games, and Principal Yaga had died at the hands of an unfair sentence.

“He’s the strongest. He’ll get out, right?” Megumi whispered the words, and they were almost too muffled for you to hear, but you heard them anyway.

The way he said sounded so hopeful, just as if he was back to being a boy who was scared by thunderstorms but who knew it would end soon.

“Of course he will, sweet boy. He will always come back to us.”

But even if your words let go of some of the tension from your son's shoulders, you almost found it hard to believe yourself. You didn’t doubt your husband, but this was a whole nother situation you had never thought of or prepared for.

This was not the future you had wanted for your family.

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #megumi fushiguro #gojo x reader #megumi x reader fluff #jjk megumi #gojo

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