#but LOOK AT HER SUNSHINEY FACE

[byeletty]

some Claire Foy sunshine energy for your dash 🙂

[moonstruckme]

poly marauders with a golden retriever + sunshine type s/o? they're energetic and sweet as can be, loves finding random things ( rocks, flowers, knick knacks and trinkets ) to bring back to their boyfriends and physically brighten when they receive praise?

Okay but like I can't picture this without her and James being soooo cute and sunshiney together. Thanks for requesting sweetheart!

poly!marauders x sunshine!reader ♡ 771 words

“Siri!” Sirius looks up as you bound into the common room, James not far behind you. “Do you know how to press flowers?”

“Good morning, my angel,” he says with a saccharine smile. “My day’s going great, how about yours?” 

“Sirius.” You’re bouncing on the balls of your feet. “Please, we’re in a hurry.” 

He quirks an eyebrow, unsure of how flower pressing can be such urgent business. Though he supposes for you, it very well might be. “I do not.” 

You look momentarily disappointed, but then James says, “You know who l bet would know? Pandora.”

You perk right back up, reaching up on your toes to press a smacking kiss to his cheek. “You’re so right, Jamie! Let’s go.” You make to dash off, but Sirius grabs at the hem of your skirt. “Wait just a minute. What’s going on?” he asks, looking between the two of you, both crackling with energy and flushed like you’ve been running everywhere. That’s when he sees that James is fidgeting with something, the object hidden in his palm. “What’ve you got there, Prongs?”

James follows his gaze and grins, opening his hand to display the rock within it proudly. “Y/N found it by the lake and gave it to me. It’s shaped like a heart, see?”

“I do see,” Sirius humors him, though to him it only looks vaguely triangular with a slight dent on one side. “Good find, sweetheart.” 

You beam at the praise, whatever business you had with the flowers momentarily forgotten. “I can’t believe no one else had already taken it! It was just sitting there on the shore, so obviously perfect.” 

Sirius has to work hard to tamp down his grin. “Obviously. Now, why are we so worried about pressing flowers?”

A pitiful little line appears between your eyebrows. “Filch is digging up all the dandelions outside,” you say, as though it’s a wicked crime for the groundskeeper to do his job. “He says they’re weeds, but they’re so pretty, and he’s killing them! I thought if we could press them then at least Remus could use them as bookmarks.”

“Aw, baby.” The thought of stern-faced Remus doing his studying with a dandelion poking out from between the pages of his textbook is nothing short of delightful. Remus would love it because it was a gift from you, and Sirius would be immensely entertained every time he saw it. “That’s such a good idea.”

“You think?” You do a little hop of excitement, and Sirius swears you could power the school with the sheer wattage of your smile. “Maybe even if Pandora doesn’t know, we can just try anyway. At least some have to work, right?”

“What has to work?” Remus asks, coming up behind you. You whirl, and his hands catch at your hips, stopping you before you can teeter over in your hurry. The two of you are so close together you have to look up at him, and a bit of color comes to your cheeks. 

“Nothing,” you say, though you’re unable to suppress a tiny grin. “It’s a surprise.”

You squirm a bit as his amber eyes narrow, but James saves you from further questioning. “We’re just on our way to pick some flowers, wanna come?”

Remus quirks an eyebrow at him. “I hope you don’t mean the dandelions in the courtyard. I just passed Filch with a bucket full of them.” 

Your eyes widen in horror. “Shit, we’ve gotta go!” You tear out of Remus’ grip, grabbing James’ hand as you pass and whisking him towards the door. 

“Dove,” Remus calls after you.

“Hm?”

“Tie your shoe, please.”

You halt. “Oh, thanks.” You lift your foot, and James lets you use his knee as a steady surface as you hastily retie your undone lace. 

“Attagirl.” 

You flush, stumbling a bit as you put your foot back down, but you return Remus’ smile before dashing out the door. 

Sirius tsks as Remus comes to sit beside him, grinning smugly to himself. “You know exactly what you’re doing when you say that to her.” 

Remus shrugs. “No harm in giving our girl credit when it’s due. And don’t act like you don’t do it, too.”

Sirius can’t very well deny that. He scoots into Remus’ lap, reclining against his chest. “Well, you’d better get ready to dish out some more credit soon. She and Prongs have got a gift in store for you.” 

“Yeah?” Remus toys with the ends of Sirius’ hair casually, but Sirius can hear the intrigue in his voice. “What’s that?”

“Oh, I’m not telling. You’ll have to wait and see.”

[upsidedownwithsteve]

i've always loved the idea of a sunshiney/hippie reader with grumpy metalhead eddie, possibly involving her crystal collection or a tarot reading lol

Eddie was used to finding things in his van, his trailer, his bag - shit, even his pockets - that weren’t his.

It was collateral damage from running a bunch of preteens around, sharing babysitting duties with Steve, playing taxi cab and breakfast club. He’d find DnD die that weren’t his, old batteries from walkie talkies, sticky candy wrappers and lost baseball hats, trading cards and half empty bottles of pop that El wasn’t really supposed to drink.

And every time, he’d fuss about it, pretending to be meaner than he was, but fuck, sometimes it got a little too much. His trailer wasn’t big enough for him and Wayne as it was, and finding Lucas’ basketball uniform in his laundry only added to the list of things he needed to get done.

(He always washed it.)

So he’d chew everyone out and throw back their belongings to them like grenades, ranting about personal space and how his van wasn’t a trash can on wheels.

(“Yes it is,” Mike would always interject.)

And then you came along. Bright and bathed in colour, a pop of sunshine beside Eddie’s black and silver get up, always smiling even when the boy was scowling. It took a month, maybe two, of dating when Eddie started finding your things amongst his. It wasn’t anything overwhelming, like a toothbrush at his sink, or your clothes in his wardrobe - no, it was too early for that.

But he’d work a shift at the garage and sneak out the back for a unauthorised smoke break, hand shoved in his pocket to search for his lighter. He’d come up with a handful of rocks instead, pretty, colourful crystals that shone in the sunlight.

He didn’t need to ask to know that they were yours.

And when he drove home, his van rattling and the music blaring, another shiny thing caught his eye. Tucked amongst his cassettes, a lump of something smooth and dark, so black it was almost purple, hints of blue in its depths. He ran his thumb over it, smiling, and tucked it in his pocket with the rest.

By the time he saw you the next day, he’d collected a dozen of the things, scattered around his room, a tiny purple stone that looked like glass in the corner of his shower, a sky blue rock under his pillow.

He held them out to you like a handful of candy, pretty, shiny and colourful, dazzling in the sunlight - just like he thought of you. Eddie smiled when you scrunched your nose at him, looking a little embarrassed. But he took your hand in his free one, helping you clamber onto the bed beside him, your back to his chest as you sat between his spread legs.

Your pink dress clashed with his red shirt, an angry skull logo on the front of his, tiny daisies on yours.

You watched Eddie line up the crystals by size, a neat stripe of bright colour on his dark blue bedsheets. The boy hooked his chin over your shoulder and you could feel the smile he pressed against your cheek, one he’d saved up all day, just for you. He kissed your jaw, nuzzled his face into the crook of your shoulder, stubble scraping your skin until you squealed and laughed.

“These are pretty,” he finally said and you hummed, agreeing. He pointed to the black stone he’d found in his van. “What’s this for?”

“It’s obsidian,” you told him, picking the crystal up and turning it over in your hand. “S’meant to help with protection.”

Something inside Eddie’s chest bloomed, a pretty warmth that he was quickly associating with you. He smiled, hid it in your shoulder and tried not to turn as pink as your shoulder.

“Yeah? That’s awesome.” He pointed to another one, glittery and jagged and lilac coloured. “What about this-?”

[madwcman]

hear me out hear me out… peter parker x sunshiney!reader

shes just a girl who will always take the lighter option, always listening to abba, a constant grin on her face

a girl who thrives when the weather climbs above 55 degrees farenheit and breaks out her tanning lotions and beach towels, and lives to wear flowy outfits

if its not too much maybe a little something like that?? i feel like theyd be perfect together 🙏🏻🙏🏻🫶🏻

a/n: i’m so hearing you out!! thanks for requesting!! i hope you enjoy <3

pairing: tasm! peter x sunshine! reader

you’re currently laughing as your gripping peters hand as you both walk on the side walk. peter loves the spring and summer. well, not really but he loves that you love the spring and summer. you thrive during the warmer seasons. in fact peter thinks you actually glow when the weather gets warmer.

you always seem to have a smile on your face, but it’s wider and brighter when you’re outside, hanging out with peter. he would like to think you’d agree with him on this. he would love to think he knows you as much as he knows himself.

“pete we should have a picnic!” you smile brightly, breaking peter out of his trance of you. he turns to you and smiles. “we definitely should, let’s go back to the apartment to grab some things.” you both head back to your shared apartment.

as soon as you walk into the apartment you zoom to your kitchen, peter watches as you quickly grab a chair just for you to climb on it to reach the top of your cabinets, where your picnic basket is located. grabbing the basket you climb down and put it on the counter.

“what should we pack?” you turn to peter, opening the basket. “sandwiches, fruit, chips and maybe some water bottles.” you nod as you move around your kitchen, peter joining you to help prepare the food.

you make sandwiches as peter helps cut up fruit and puts them into plastic containers, you both grab a couple small bags of chips and a couple of water bottles for yourselves. peter quickly puts everything into the basket and holds it for you as you both make it out of the apartment.

“could we go to a park?” you ask peter as you turn to look at him, with such a lovely smile. peter thinks he could faint if you smile at him like that again.

“we can go anywhere you want, sweetheart.” peter kisses your cheek, grabbing your hand in his free one, dragging you out the apartment building. he smiles to himself as he hears your lovely laugh.

[thebearer]

honestly, thinking about the last episode and thinking about pete, and i am an honest to god pete defender.

like he is so good to sugar, and tries to hard to be good for her, good for the whole family. he knows how fucked up they all are, and he's just there- a little sunshiney boy trying to keep everything together. he has the best of intentions, he really does.

the scene with donna outside the restaurant. how he's just trying to do what's best and he feels empathy for her? he sees the best in people and honestly, i get why they're hard on him- he's not their usual type in the family, but pete deserves all the love and support genuinely.

just picturing your first true berzatto family get together. donna wants to see the new baby, so they have it at the restaurant. steven and michelle from out of town, jimmy, leo, donna, everyone- the whole gang. you're overwhelmed, especially when donna starts drinking.

pete just kinda comes and sits by you, while you're alone and unsure in the corner. you'd already been hounded with a million questions, carmen is trying to keep the peace in the kitchen, trying to check on you, trying to keep everyone from killing each other.

"how are you doing?" pete asks, sitting beside you, baby mikey in his arms.

"i-i'm good." you muttered, eyes darting around the room.

"it's a lot." pete sighed.

"it is a lot." you muttered, nodding slowly. "i mean, i knew it was gonna be a lot. carmy warned me on that but it's like..."

"so much worse than you thought it would be?" pete looked at you carefully.

"yeah." you nodded. "i, uh, i understand a lot more now."

"they're, uh, they're actually really nice. all of them, on their own." pete offered. "like steve and michelle, they're great, really. easy to talk to, always really nice, super fuckin' funny. and...and you know jimmy. leo is... leo's kinda a ball buster. got this dry sense of humor, but he'll be nice to you, a little invasive you know? but he's got good intentions."

you nodded slowly, eyes scanning around the room towards each person. "what about his mom?" you muttered, looking at the white haired woman nursing another glass of chardonnay. "she, uh, she hasn't spoke to me the whole time. i tried to introduce myself and she walked right past me." you tried not to sound hurt, carmen told you to shake it off, but it did hurt. that was his mother, no matter how he tried to play it off.

"donna is... donna is a lot." pete hummed. "she... you can't force donna. ok? she'll come to you when she's ready. right now, she doesn't know who you are. and as fucked up as it is, it's her way of looking out for carm, looking out for herself. just give that one time. she's watching you."

you scoffed lightly. "yeah? that supposed to make me feel better pete?"

"no. no not at all." pete laughed. "but, just some advice. you gonna leave carmen anytime soon?"

"no." you furrowed your brows, shooting a glare at him.

"then you show her that. she'll ease into you. i promise." pete said.

"thank you, pete." you nodded sincerely at him. "thanks for this."

"of course." pete grinned. "it's a lot and they're all too caught up in their own to try and help so... we outsiders gotta look out for each other."

you laughed lightly, looking down at the baby in his arms. he had the berzatto nose, carmen's and mikey's. "you're not an outsider anymore." you grinned. "not with this little guy."

pete smiled proudly. "i'm still an outsider. just got like a lifetime pass in." you laughed, reaching out to stroke the baby's soft tuft of hair. "you wanna hold him?"

"are you sure?" your eyes flashed to him. "i'm not great at it."

pete shrugged, fishing his hand sanitizer out and tossing it to you. "just don't drop him. i won't abandon you with him. promise."

you freshly sanitized hands shook lightly, grabbing the baby a little unsure, shifting the weight in your arm until it was comfortable. baby mikey gurgled, face scrunching for a moment, before he settles, lulled back into whatever rest he was in before.

"ah, he likes you." pete boasted. "must know you're gonna be a vip like me."

you snorted lightly, swaying back and forth with the tiny baby. "yeah. hopefully."

"you will be." pete nodded, his eyes cutting over to the figure by the windows. "judging by carmy's face, you definitely will be."

you looked up, seeing your boyfriend standing there, a water in his white knuckled grip staring at you. you smiled gently, nodding him over.

"they got you on baby sitting duty?" carmen grinned, trying to play off how flustered he was before, how his heart was skipping a beat seeing you like that.

"somethin' like that." you hummed. "pete just asked if i wanted to hold him. he's cute. kinda looks like you."

carmen scoffed as pete boasted. "he does, doesn't he! i told nat that and she told me i was crazy! see, nat!" he stood, going to get his wife from across the room, a promise he'd be right back.

carmen slid into his spot, leaning over your shoulder to look at the baby- his nephew. "he's cute." he nodded. "sorry you got stuck with pete." his tone snarled, rolling his eyes gently.

"hey, stop that." you frowned. "pete is very sweet, alright? he's a good guy, carm."

carmen could feel his shoulders tense. he was a good fuckin' guy, he knew that, that's why they gave him such a hard time. "you're right." carmen muttered. "he is a good guy."

"what were you two talking about?" carmen asked, letting the baby wrap his tiny fist around his finger.

"he was just telling me about your family."

"oh." carmen rolled his eyes sarcastically. "i'm sure that was great."

"it was." you said firmly, looking at him. "all the good stuff, baby. promise."

carmen blushed, resisting the urge to kiss you while his sister and pete came back over, pete exaggeratedly talking about how the baby did look like carmy and mikey and you agreed, which then brought jimmy over to give his opinion, stevie and michelle following, until everyone was around you bickering and throwing back and forth about who was right.

[a-writing-otter]

WIP Wednesday

“I can’t believe you fucked that old man.”

Bill’s head snaps up so quickly from where it was inside of the air duct that he smacks it on the metal internals. When he reappears cursing and rubbing at his head, there’s dust bunnies in his hair and clinging to his eyelashes.

“You can’t believe I what?”

“You fucked that old man,” Red repeats, feet up on the counter as she lazily reads something called “Lumberjack Layabouts Weekly.”

“I—“ And Bill lets out a grunt as he comes down from the ladder to slam his hands on the counter and lean into her space. The action does little to phase her other than make her look up.

“Neither of those things are right!”

Red takes a second to turn the page of her magazine, but doesn’t look away from Bill.

“That’s not what I heard.”

Bill’s eyes roll back into his skull for a second. He thinks of what he was told to do both by the therapium and Question Mark’s fiancée: deep breaths in and deep breaths out, count to ten, don’t visualize throttling them no matter how fucking annoying these fleshbags are.

“First of all, I’m older than him,” he begins, like that’s the important part.

“You don’t look it.”

“That’s because I take good care of myself.” Which is only partially true.

When the Axolotl and the entire therapism decided Bill’s methods of rehabilitation weren’t working, they’d sent him here. To hell.

…to earth.

Stripped of his powers, they’d shoved him into a meat suit that was an “appropriate approximation of his natural form” (Bill resents that statement entirely, but the appearance has grow on him). The dark skin and golden eyes are quite a contrast coupled with the golden hair offset by strays strands of grey or white hair. Melody has helped him figure out how to wash and maintain it, which is far more maintenance than he was expecting after watching Ford for years barely do anything more than occasionally wash it and wake up. Bill’s currently picking dust bunnies out of an individual lock, throwing them into the trashcan by the counter (like hell is he sweeping up in this damned place more than he has to).

He has it on good authority that this is a desirable fleshbag form, both from the open way that people compliment him and the way people stared. …he’s getting used to the staring and has stopped threatening to flay people alive who let their eyes linger too long.

Question Mark calls it progress; Bill calls it not wanting to see that haunted, barely contained disappointment on Melody’s face again. She is simultaneously the kindest and cruelest person he’s met on this plane. In spite of literally everyone’s reservations about Bill being on the same plane as the rest of these humans, she’d been willing to hear him out, offer him accommodations here at the Mystery Shack, and even provide a job if he could behave.

She also detailed to him with a sunshiney smile and no insignificant amount of knife waving that if Bill started anything, anything looking like world domination under her roof, not even the Axolotl would be able to save him.

If nothing else, she’s done more than a little to earn his respect and compliance than anyone else in this entire reality.

So, he’d gotten used to people staring and it doesn’t bother him.

At least, until one particular person started staring.

“Second of all, I didn’t—“ And he looks around, makes sure no hide or hair of thirteen year-old menace can be seen before he continues, “—fuck Sixer.”

Red closes the magazine entirely and shifts to take her feet off the counter and lean on it with her arms folded—this is what she’d wanted to hear.

“I heard Stan caught you two in the bathroom.”

Bill clears his throat and starts back up the ladder to avoid having to look at Red even as he feels something warm in his face.

“Stan doesn’t know what he saw.”

Red lets out a raucous laugh that makes Bill wince and wrinkle his nose as he sticks his head back in the vent to continue clearing it out.

“I heard that you two also got into a fistfight at dinner before that. Weird foreplay, but I can respect it.”

Everyone, mostly Question Mark and Shooting Star, have insisted on family dinners since both sets of Pines twins returned to Gravity Falls. And, somehow, Bill gets lumped into that because he sleeps in the Shack (specifically, the sofa in the living room because everywhere else is off-limits). It’s been three weeks and most everything has been simpatico, Shooting Star was the fastest to warm up after her initial talk too of “unspeakable horrors” she’ll unleash on him if he steps a toe out of line. The fact that he’s powerless seems to make her willing to humor him.

…also something about him looking like a wet rat? And it was a good thing? Bill didn’t ask. Or, rather, he had asked and she brushed him off and because he knew Stanley will flay him alive if he lays a finger on either niece or nephew, he let it go.

Pine Tree has been a lot more hesitant in his behavior, sure, but he’s recently started being in the same room with Bill and musing aloud in ways that Bill knows are directed at him without talking to him. Pine Tree will state something stupid about the state of the town and when Bill corrects him, he’ll scribble it down, go silent, then rinse and repeat.

Stan has been… well, they were avoiding each other without problem. The closest they get to a conversation is when they’re both sitting in the living room after everyone else has gone to bed and before Stan goes to his bed and Bill passes out on the sofa. Their talk is a roundabout back and forth about complaining about what’s on the television and saying there’s “never anything good on”. Occasionally Bill will liken something on the screen to something he’s seen on television in other dimensions, Stan will grunted, and then they go back to silence.

They’ve also worked out a system where they’re allies in their silent agreement to watch The Duchess Approves as long as no one else finds out about it.

…and then there’s Ford.

They haven’t been in the same room as each other outside of dinner even remotely. Bill doesn’t look at him, Ford doesn’t acknowledge him, and it’s fine.

It’s fine.

It doesn’t bother him even a little that Ford won’t even look at him, won’t talk to him. Doesn’t bother him that when Bill does talk, he rolls his eyes. It doesn’t bother him either that Ford gets up every time Bill enters the room even for a moment. It’s not like he cares about the asshole or wants to see him. It’s fine for Bill.

Fine, fine, fine, fine, fine.

And because it is so fine, he’s not sure what exactly caused him to get mouthy with Sixer the night before.

Ford had made some inane comment and Bill couldn’t help but correct him. Over a trillion years in the multiverse, he knows when he’s right about something.

Ford bit back.

And Bill argued against.

It’d devolved into a petty back-and-forth, both of them digging their claws in places it shouldn’t go without caring for the carnage it spread.

It ended when Bill called Ford “my shining star” like this was just a philosophical disagreement thirty-one years prior.

He shouldn’t have done that.

The next thing Bill knew, he and Ford were rolling on the ground, fists flying and snarling at one another. Ford caught him in the nose, Bill punched him in the mouth, both of them scratching and pulling hair like a pair of animals.

It took Stanley and Soos both to pull them apart, both of them still swinging until they were forced to calm down.

After that, Bill had left his unfinished dinner to sit on the roof and wait out everyone else’s dinner. It was only because the blood wouldn’t stop flowing from his nose while the blood on his knuckles had dried uncomfortably to the point he kept accidentally ripping it when he flexed his hand that convinced him to go downstairs.

He’s still figuring out this whole human thing and, yeah, he was fumbling with the tape and his nose was dripping all over everything and he was fighting not to get it on the stupid sweater he got from Shooting Star and—

That’s how Ford found him.

There were no words as he crowded into the small bathroom with him, took off his gloves, and started to doctor Bill.

Neither of them say that there’s something familiar about this, them being together while cleaning up blood and puss and setting bones, usually injuries inflicted on Ford by Bill. There’s probably something funny about the idea of it being the other way around now.

They’re both too tired or embarrassed to say anything for awhile, but then Ford makes an innocuous statement that raises Bill’s hackles and there goes the peace. Then they’re shoving and pushing into a wall, Bill effectively having Ford cornered against it, chest-to-chest, spitting in each other’s faces, and then—

Then they were decidedly not fighting.

“Yeah, well, Fordsy is a know-it-all prick who doesn’t actually know everything,” Bill defends. “He started the fight.”

“That’s not what I heard,” Red replies in a singsong voice.

“And who’s telling you this?!”

“Don’t worry about it.” Red goes quiet for a moment, but he knows she’s still staring at him. “Did you two really make out though?”

Bill is quiet, can’t quite find the words he wants to say about this. Was his tongue in Ford’s mouth? Yes. Were Ford’s hands in his hair? Also yes. Did Stan walk in while Bill’s hand was halfway down the front of Ford’s pants? Regrettably.

“It was a… heat of the moment thing.”

“Wow. I mean, I knew you two were something back then, but I figured you two had, you know, moved past that.”

Bill doesn’t respond for awhile, leaning back to sweep the dust into the garbage bag he’s holding.

“So did I.”

[neverchecking]

Hi I love you wirk

And I love how you call totk link sage

Also the cold attack boost outfit I love it my favorite The open back and showing his hips 🤤😋 hot

And I love the zonia

And I have a request

Can I request yandere sage x ruyla ( autocorrect Keeps fixing his name) king of the zonia daughter reader

Smut

Like the reader was sent to the future from her dad with out anyone knowing

And tells link to find his daughter who asleep not to far away from his shrine and go to a the time temple top and the zonia worker will show him the way

And they reade is a sweet flower but looks up to Link.

And link falls for her.

And won't let anyone take her even if it mean Baby trapping her please and thank you

And I love you.

At first I was like Raylu???? Then I noticed you mentioned autocorrect and I was like ah- Rauru.

You absolutely can. I love every part of this idea. I feel like a perfect companion to Sage is one that is just such a sunshiney baby.

Anyway, I meant to get this out last night after work, but I got high instead and spent an hour watching the ceiling fan. I also wrote like the weirdest draft ideas and I'm deciding if they're worth fleshing out at all.

(Sage is TotK Link!)

Also smut so MDNI! 18+

Smut CW: Breeding kink, baby trapping, reader is a little naive. Sage. He's a crusty little bastard. (affectionately) Dumbification.

It had many names, the Legend of the Dragon's Daughter. Many of which titled it as either a legend or a story. A myth. Some warned of great dangers surrounding the aura of the spirit the legend told about. Other's told of the pure divinity that this being held in the palm of their hand. The grace and adroitness that lined their very pores was spoken of so fondly by the older generations who had heard the story from their own grandparents, who had heard it from theirs and so on and so forth. The older Zora especially spoke of her in such a tone he found himself lending a little belief to the legend.

The story told of a daughter, blessed to the first King and Queen of Hyrule by the Three Goddesses themselves. A princess bestowed with the gift of beauty and grace, a beacon to the budding kingdom. There were even carvings under Hyrule Castle, hidden by toppled boulders, that portrayed her image.

And he would admit. She looked like a being having been blessed by the heavens above.

The carvings had showed an ugly side to an already bitter story. How this princess, this goddess sculpted muse, was struck down by the Demon King as a means to get back at both King Rauru and Queen Sonia. The carvings from there had been too worn down to get a clear reading, but it was enough to pique his interest. Besides, what else did he have to do? Save a princess who had no issues with leaving him to die? Deal with monsters that the people of Hyrule already knew damn well how to deal with and were no longer scared of them? Traverse the depths and all the lightroots he had already found?

At least this way, he may get some new power out of it. If nothing else, at least he had a good story for Traysi.

His first area to investigate was the sky island he woke up on. He could still spot Rauru's spirit in certain areas, understanding the solemn look he seemed to wear much more than he previously did.

It was also much easier to travel around the island this time around, which was a bonus.

When prodded for answers, something complicated flashed over the spirit's face before it settled into a Grim acceptance. One Link had worn too often right after remembering the untimely demise of the Champions.

"She was gravely injured. My precious sunshine. I almost lost her that day." He had spoken in a grave echo, eyes glazed and far off, as if seeing his daughter right in front of him. "My sister, Mineru, had offered her services in an effort to preserve her soul. I am unsure if it had worked. I haven't had the heart to look. I would be such a disappointment to her fiery heart and iron strong will to shine in the brightest ways possible. She was kept in the Temple of Time if you are at all curious."

He was. He was curious. He wanted to see this being for himself. If Rauru spoke so highly of you, it had to be worth it. And it was either this or go save Zelda, and he figured she was fine doing what she currently was for a little while longer.

At least until he looked further into this.

Walking into the temple, he hummed to himself as he looked around, spotting the blue glow of Rauru near a wall closer to the exit. He nodded solemnly when Link approached. The hand that matched his own raised to the wall, pulling forth one of those green symbols that chimed at his hand. The bricks shuffled and moved while Rauru faded out, leaving an unactive construct in front of him. It rattled to life, chirping up at him before recognizing that he was friend and not foe. The Construct explained that he was designed to protect the chasm the Princess was being kept in, but since Rauru had deemed him worthy, he would escort the blond to the place. It wasn't a long journey, not at all, just down a spiraling staircase with stone walls curtained by moss.

But the moment he laid eyes on you, he understood why you were hidden.

You face was lax in such a peaceful expression as your body remained weightless, suspended in a bubble of seafoam green and ocean blue. Your hair was splaying up behind you as if you were underwater with your hands clasped around a hilt of a sword. Even the sword itself was divinity in a blade, glowing a bright white from it's place in front of you. You were clad in white robes trimmed in cold with a stone necklace laced around your delicate neck, those same white earrings hanging from your ears.

You were...ethereal. From the curve of your jawbone to the plump flesh of your cheeks, he was enthralled by your very essence. The curve of your shoulders and the toned flow of your arms, even the dip in your collarbone-- all of it had his eyes trailing every bend and curve of your body.

What he wouldn't do to get a piece of you.

He ached to just touch your sun-kissed skin, to feel it under his palms as he held you. To feel the run of your hips, fingers gripping at the dips that decorated them. To paint them a splattering of blues and purples in a lasting reminder of who he was and what he had done to you. To bite and nibble at the flesh just to hear the kind of cries you would make.

Goddess, he couldn't imagine what your voice sounded like, but he wanted to. He wanted to hear what it sounded like while you breathlessly gasped out. To hear what it sounded like when you cried out his name in pure ecstasy as you withered underneath of him. To hear you give yourself to him entirely.

He wanted to feel your weight on top of him, to experience your hands in his hair (Or cupping his cheeks if he chose to allow himself that vulnerability), to live in your orbit, worshipping you as his one true Goddess.

His eyes landed on the same green symbol that unlocked everything pertaining to the Zonai. He raised his hand in response. It lit up a bright green before fading. The bubble shined brightly before growing, eventually popping and exposing you to the elements. Which why? You were so vulnerable like that? Why not just give you to him directly? You were at risk like this. Couldn't they SEE THAT-

Whatever invisible force keeping you suspended gently laid you on your feet, which were bare, only adorned with an anklet matching your necklace. The tip of the sword in your hand clinked against the stone floor. The echo of it made your eyes, your gorgeous, gorgeous eyes, snap open. If he thought seeing you before was captivating, this was downright...enchanting. The light of your irises positively glowed as your silently gasped, hands tightening around the hilt of the weapon. He rushed to your side as he saw your balance falter, cradling you in his arms as one of your hands came to gently hold your own temple. Even just the sound of your groan made him swallow hard, fighting the blood threatening to rush to his (dick-) cheeks.

You blinked before realizing that he was not someone you knew, pushing him away with much more force than he would expect from someone fresh out of a comatose state. The only thing stopping him from wrapping his arms around you once more was the tip of the very blade now prodding at his neck. He swallowed.

"Who are you?" You demanded, hold on the weapon shaking just a tad.

(Which was so adorable. How someone like you, all soft skin and doe eyes, expected to make someone like him, rugged scars and gnarled morals, bend to you was beyond him.)

(But he'd love to see you try anyway.)

"Where are my people?! Or Queen Sonia and King Rauru?!" Oh, you were so cute.

He wanted to decimate that innocence you carried.

With a careful hand, he gently pushed the blade aside with the back of a hand, letting a smug smirk settle on his lips. Your cheeks immediately reddened as your attention remained on him. Just as he liked it, he decided then and there. He liked having your attention (and only yours) on him. But having you acting so hostile towards him just wouldn't stand. But you didn't know any better, not yet anyway, so he'd let it slide.

He gently explained that you had been fatally wounded protecting your people, something that your parents were endlessly proud of you for-- even in death. While it was a direct shot in his, admittedly lacking, heart to be the one to tell you of the passed time and the death of your parents (The sacrifice of your father and the betrayal that lead to your mother's death), he was evidently the best and only option. He understood, on an intimate level, what it was like to loose so much time, healing yourself, while the rest of the world carried on, carrying the loss of friends and family with it. He knew what it was like. It had to be why you two were so perfect for each other.

He held you as your cried, soothing down your hair as your tears (Which should never have been shed) soaked his shoulder. While he was never interested in defeating the Demon King for Zelda's sake, he may have just found another motive.

One much more worthy of his time and attention.

<><><><>

When he first saw you, he understood why you were hidden, on a surface level.

He understood why much more on a deeper, more intimate one now.

You were so bubbly. Even when faced with the devastation of your home, you remained optimistic, greeting the constructs that roamed around happily. Bestowing your cherished kisses (Those should belong to him.) upon their cold exterior while wiping them free of dirt. Even the wildlife that had squawked and charged at him crooned and chirped under your touch, hankering for the scratches you gifted them under the chin. You saw beauty in the overrun weeds and fauna, taking great interest in the new species that had popped up.

When he took to the mainland, via shrine travel because he would be damned before you got down the same way he originally did, it seemed like you couldn't see everything fast enough. You loved exploring the caves, despite the Like-Likes baring their disgusting teeth and innards (Which he quickly disposed of), ached to get as close as possible to the chasms (Which wasn't very as he refused to risk you falling in), yearned to traverse the mountain peaks and snow dunes of the mainland (Which killed him on the inside since didn't you know how dangerous those were?!).

You were quite the adventurer, full of inexperienced naivety and unpoised curiosity. The exact opposite of the princess he knew. He forgot you were royalty have the time with your mannerisms, nothing like Zelda. Which was so refreshing.

If only you weren't so fragile. He would never admit it (Too your face at least) that he's thought of just tying you down and keeping you in his (He saw it as your shared home these days) home. It was on the far outskirts of Tarrey town (Far enough no one would hear your cries for help should it come to that) with a pasture out front so you could keep a horse nearby as a friend (Should you behave).

(It wouldn't be a young, steady horse. No, most likely an older horse who had long since retired from any sort of running or getaway attempts.)

He just needed a way to keep you stationary.

And it hit him like a Hinox. You two were walking around Hateno (It was deemed safe and far enough from Tarry Town that it was still new to you), when you stopped, let out a high enough squeal his ears pinned to his head as his head snapped towards you. You were always in his peripheral, but now you were right in front of him with his hands quickly holding your arms, checking you over for injury. There were none, but you were beaming like someone had handed you a million rupees (He would. He could. He'd do it just for you), instead redirecting his attention with a call of 'Link, look!'. He had followed your line of sight just as you began squeezing his own hands, expecting you to be aweing over a cow or goat or, Goddess forbid, a dog again (You very nearly took one of stable dogs home last time). But you weren't.

And that's when it hit him.

You were loosing any semblance of a mind you had over a small infant, strapped to their mother's back by a wrap of some sort. The babe smiled at your reaction, letting out a small cascade of giggles that had you squealing in pure joy.

That was it.

The answer was right there! How could he have been so blind?! It was right there. If he gave you a baby, his baby no less, you would have no choice but to remain dormant. You would have to stay right where he put you to not only protect yourself, but to your protect your child. He had no doubt you would do it. You were too kind, too naive, for any other option. Once you figured out you were carrying his child, you'd fall for thing, claiming it as your own before it was any bigger than an apple seed.

And from then on it would just be a matter of formalities. You'd be his for the rest of your lives.

Exactly what he wanted.

Exactly what had led up to this moment. You were nothing but a babbling, crying mess underneath of him, pulling at the roots of his hair as he folded your legs against your chest. You were pleading with him, some mindless demand that he wasn't even sure you knew what you were asking, but it was background noise. He was too focused on watching the way he disappearing into your cunt, a milky sheen coating the shaft of his cock as heavy dollops of past loads dripped past your gaping opening. It was mesmerizing the way your body reacted to him, sucking him in and fighting him every time he pulled out. Even on an unconscious level, you ached for him. Not nearly as much as he breathed for you, but that would come with time. He knew it would. He'd ensure it.

The cry of his name on your lips had the coil in his gut steadily tightening as his pace picked up, thoroughly hammering your insides. He needed to make sure he was prodded right against your cervix for this to work. He needed to get this right. He needed to father any and all of your children. Starting here and now.

Whether you knew about it or not.

You had babbled something about him pulling out too long ago, but he had...distracted you with long laps at your clit and soft nipples along your thighs. He didn't even think of truly ruining you until you were clenching your thighs around his head and drenching his bottom jaw, too gone to properly process anything going on around you.

And he'd keep it that way.

His thumb, rough and calloused, rubbed harsh little circles into your clit, feeling it pulse in time with his ministrations. You whimpered beneath him, chest arching up to push against his own as you cried out, squeezing around him. You were positively milking him for every drop he had to offer.

There was no way you didn't want his children. Not with the way you were clenching around him as he jutted as far as he could go, filling your womb once more. You laid boneless beneath him, hands dropping to hang around his neck as he took a moment to breath. Your cunt spasmed once more and his cock twitched inside of you.

"You're not done yet, are you, Princess?" He purred into your ear, making it flicker as he rolled his hips against yours, even if overstimulation rocked his entire system in a flash of shot nerves.

None of that mattered to him. He had a mission. A mission he would do anything to accomplish.

Anything to keep you as his.

Yes, the reader was holding the Light Sword. Yes, I know that's not how you get it. I just thought it would be a cool tidbit bc YES, Sage seems like the type to get turned on by a hot princess threatening with a sword.

[mappingthesky]

just talk (and i’ll stare at your mouth)

super fluffy mini blurb inspired by that dragcon moment

It shouldn’t be as endearing as it is.

Jane is several minutes too deep into defending herself and has the whole room in uproar. She’s sitting up straight with one long leg crossed over the other, relatively composed except for the bobbing of her head as she speaks and the mindless point of her finger as she directs her words around the room. Her hair is dark and tied up into one of those messy buns that Nymphia loves so much on her, long tendrils framing her face as she delivers another verbal lashing. Nymphia can’t look away from her, but, then again, no one can. Their friends are hanging on to her each and every word; their laughter echoes around the room, amplified with every add-on. Jane rolls her eyes, and Q is actually red in the face, and Morphine is about to fall out of her fucking chair, and Nymphia is stupidly, deliriously happy.

There was a time when this wasn’t so easy. When Nymphia would watch Jane rile up a room, watch her jaw clench and her temple pulse, and think that she needed to do something about it. A time when she was ready to throw herself between Jane and whatever unfortunate soul had found themselves so thoroughly embroiled in a feud with her, ready to jump to Jane’s defense no matter how undeserving. A time when Nymphia thought Jane needed saving. A time when Nymphia thought she had to prove it - that she’s on Jane’s side, wholly and completely, no matter how wrong she is.

Now, Nymphia watches from where she’s curled up against the armrest of the couch, Jane’s profile silhouetted against the soft glow of the living room light, and can’t help but beam, because loving Jane is so easy. With every stupid word that flies unfiltered from Jane’s lips, Nymphia laughs this hopelessly enamored, completely contented laugh - a hum against the roof of her mouth, high and happy. She looks over at Jane, her face actually hurting from smiling so big, and thinks I could do this forever, just sit and listen to you talk, no matter what you’re saying.

At some point mid-ramble Jane looks over for support, her hand absent-mindedly flying to squeeze Nymphia’s knee. It’s a reminder - for herself, or maybe for Nymphia, or maybe for the both of them - that they’re still in this together, and when her gaze lands on Nymphia, when she catches a glimpse of her looking back with this pure and unbridled adoration, Jane’s head darts back in a double take. All at once, her face splits into this glorious smile.

“What?” Jane questions with a playful tilt to her head, and her voice is softer, gentler somehow, so immediately removed from the rest of the world. Her eyes are widened and interested and still impossibly soft, because it’s Nymphia she’s looking at, and all at once they’re in their own private universe.

“Nothing,” Nymphia smiles, shakes her head, because she doesn’t want to interrupt this - Jane being Jane. “Go on.”

“No, what were you gonna say?” Jane says with a nod, makes space for Nymphia to speak into, even if it's just for her to hear. Her grin is stupid and boxy and Nymphia’s absolute favorite - Jane’s mouth held slightly open, tongue just behind her teeth, like she’s going to eat whatever Nymphia says next.

“You’re insane,” Nymphia says through giggles, because it’s all so unexpectedly sweet, and all her adoration bubbles up and out of her in beautiful, twinkling, head-tilted-back laughter, and Jane is completely entranced by all of it.

“Are you just now realizing this?” Jane says and flashes that smile, that completely fucked up smile where her canines glitter at the corner of her mouth, that shit-eating grin that Nymphia can’t get enough of. “Aw, babe.”

“You’re completely crazy,” Nymphia beams, smitten and sunshiney. “There’s no hope for you.”

“You love it,” Jane’s eyes flare and her grin widens somehow, and Nymphia can hardly stand to look at her when she’s staring back at her with this sort of intensity, when her eyes are lingering on Nymphia’s mouth and she just knows she’s thinking about kissing her.

“I love it,” Nymphia says with a bit of snarl, too excited about Jane to be anything resembling sane or subtle. “I love you.”

Jane’s eyes gleam with an obsessive sort of disbelief, one incisor sunk hungrily in her bottom lip. “You’re perfect,” she says. “I fucking love you. Come here.”

Nymphia is laughing, and Jane’s leaning in to positively devour her whole, and then, from somewhere behind them: “Get a fucking room!”

Jane draws back just enough to call over her shoulder, “See, Q, this is why no one likes you!” and elicits immediate uproar. The whole room dissolves into hollers and laughs and sputtering comebacks, and it’s the perfect distraction, giving them just a few more seconds to themselves.

“God, she’s so fucking annoying,” Jane rolls her eyes as she gravitates back to Nymphia, but her annoyance doesn’t reach her lips. She’s still smiling, still basking in their bubble, looking down at Nymphia as she dissolves into giggles once again and looks so enamored, so proud, because this is what she does it for - not to start fights, not to make a statement, but to keep Nymphia laughing at her.

“You’re so right,” Nymphia looks up at Jane, eyes fluttering. “Should we kill her?”

“Yes. You’re so hot when you’re murderous. Kiss me.”

And then Jane’s there, cupping Nymphia’s face with both hands, pressing her lips to hers in this head-spinning, all-consuming sort of kiss, does it again and again until they’re breathless and well-reminded that none of this matters - not the banter, not who started the fight or who is going to finish it, not Q’s voice already rising in the background, calling Jane’s name over and over again. All that matters is this - Jane drawing back from the kiss, eyes sparkling with deviousness and devotion, looking into Nymphia and saying so freely:

“Love you.”

“Love you too,” Nymphia smiles, tilting her head towards their company. “Go!”

“So,” Jane starts up again, leans in to kiss Nymphia one last time, pulls back to address the room with an undeterrable smile on her face. “No, yeah, as I was saying…”

Nymphia falls back against the arm of the couch, her cheeks flushed and her heart full. As she watches Jane now, Nymphia knows better. She knows that Jane doesn’t need saving, that neither of them do, because they’ve already been saved. They’ve already found each other. And when all of this is over, when they send their friends home and lock the door behind them, they'll give in to the sort of softness that only they know. That Jane will wrap herself around Nymphia, nuzzle into her chest and mumble some version of was that too much? And Nymphia will reassure her, even though she doesn’t have to, because she knows she’s already proven it - that she’s on Jane’s side when she’s right, but especially when she’s wrong. That Jane can stand her own, but she’ll never be standing alone. That they have each other, heart and soul, and that means it's all going to end up alright.

[oneforthemunny]

janitor!eddie munson x reader blurb

eddie au where he starts working at hawkins elementary as a janitor. steve is a fourth grade teacher there and gets him the job, something with benefits and better hours than selling weed and working at the plant.

eddie's nervous being in a school. he graduated a few years before and vowed to never go back. it was no secret he'd been severely mistreated in his school days, but steve assured him they were elementary school kids- they wouldn't care.

he finds its a pretty easy job. sweep the halls, scrub the desks from any doodles, change the trash. the worst part is when a kid throws up, but that's not as common as he thought. as it would turn out, elementary school kids are pretty clean and tidy- he supposes it's the age.

they're also pretty sweet. always high-fiving 'mr.munson' in the hallways, and cheering when he'd come in to fix the pencil sharpener. it's the first job eddie has that he looks forward to. especially, when he gets to see you everyday.

steve introduced you two, in the teacher's lounge. eddie was sitting at a table with him, lunch pail with a ham sandwich he'd thrown together that morning. you'd waltzed in, sunshiney and smiley, chatting with another teacher. he'd noticed your skirt, how bright it was, bright and pink, hitting your calves at a respectful length. it made you look so cheery, happy, instantly brightening the space you walked into.

"y/n," steve called, waving at you when you grabbed your lunch bag out of the fridge. eddie's breath caught, feeling like the sandwich doubled in size ever bite he took. you grinned warmly, excusing yourself from the other teachers and walking over to steve.

"hi, steve." you greeted, taking a seat at the round table between the two of them.

"y/n, this is eddie. he just started her as the new custodian." steve said.

eddie wanted to roll his eyes, and give his usual response, "custodian. pssh, quit fancying' it up on my behalf, harrington, I'm a janitor."  but he couldn't. not when you looked over at him, eyes lit up and smiling.

"oh, it's so nice to meet you." you laughed, introducing yourself. eddie wiped his hands on his navy coveralls- the school had insisted he wear- clammy hands shaking yours.

"we're hallmates." steve teased, joining you in a laugh.

"we teach fourth grade. mr. harrington does math and science, and I do language arts and history." you said with a smile so wide eddie couldn't help but match yours.

eddie wanted to reply, but his head was swimming, blushing so furiously he was sure it was rising up his neck. "so, are you from hawkins too?" you asked, looking at eddie.

he nodded, clearing his throat gently. "y-yeah. I went here actually... back in the day. it-it's been a while ago, obviously, you knew that." eddie rambled, running a hand down his face.

you smiled, steve giving eddie a knowing smirk over her shoulder, making eddie blush even more. "a-are you from here? I haven't ever seen you around, but ya know, that doesn't mean anything. I mean, you could've been homeschooled, right? we're you homeschooled?" eddie stammered, mind whirring and buzzing. he couldn't stop rambling, spilling out the words as he looked at you.

you shook you head. "no, I wasn't homeschooled, and I'm not from here." you smiled, and eddie swore he saw you blush a little.

the next few weeks, you two talked in friendly conversation. you always greeted him with a cheery and bright 'hello!'. when he'd get your trash during your planning period, you would chat with him, asking about his weekend. he liked that you didn't fake conversation or ignore him like some of the other teachers did- the one's who remembered the outcasted munson boy from his time there as a child.

it wasn't until one day after school, eddie was pushing his cleaning cart, making his rounds through the classrooms, that he saw you. "hey, eddie?" you called, poking your head out of the classroom.

eddie was surprised you were still here. school had been out for a while, all the other teachers and staff had gone home.

"could I get your help, please?" you asked, biting your lower lip. eddie's heart pounded. "if you're not busy."

eddie pushed his cart to the side, making his way down the hallway to you. he liked that your door was always decorated, pictures that your student's had drawn surrounding your name and room number, colorful and inviting on the usual dull, wooden door.

"surprised you're still here." eddie grinned.

you laughed, shrugging softly. "yeah, well, I've been doing this," you pushed the door open, revealing the classroom.

eddie's eyes bulged, your room looked like a red and pink bomb had gone off in it. paper mache hearts, painted cupid's from the 60's, construction paper links of red and pink draping each of the student's desk.

"wow," eddie said, looking around him.

you smiled sheepishly. "I've been a little busy, can you tell?" you giggled.

eddie gaped, fingers trailing over the lace doilies around the hearts. "you, uh, you like valentine's day, huh?" he asked.

you shrugged. "it's alright. I'm sure it better when you have someone to share it with." eddie's head whipped around, shocked. no way you were single.

"I just like to go big like this for holidays, all holidays. it makes the kids happy, especially in the cold months. they always get kinda sluggish and sad, so if I can do this to make them happy, then I will." you said simply.

eddie smiled. "your kids are real lucky to have you." he said. "I woulda killed for a teacher like you. I had teachers like mrs. burns." he shuddered. you cringed slightly. that pre-historic woman was still teaching. eddie had thought he was being haunted when he first saw her this year.

"I- thank you." you said, blushing, hiding your smile. "I had a teacher once, ms. mccason, and she really inspired me to be a teacher. she was always so fun, and exciting, made me actually want to come to school." you gushed. eddie watched you, carefully, happily. he liked seeing you like this.

"she would decorate like this, and- oh!" you turned, grabbing some of your decorations. "that's why I needed help, actually. she would always hang the decorations from the ceiling, and I thought that was the coolest thing, and I wanted to do that, but I can't exactly reach to put the cupid's up." you said, looking at eddie hopefully.

eddie nodded, pulling out a chair, stepping carefully onto it with his heavy work boots before pushing up on the ceiling tile. you handed him one by one, chatting with him as you went. about school, how he met steve, what you liked to do outside of school, even eddie's band.

"I play at the hideout, sometimes." eddie said, hanging the last one before stepping down. "uh, you should come sometime."

your eyes lit up. "yeah?" you asked.

eddie nodded, cheeks flaming. "yeah. I-i mean, if you want to." he blushed. "we play every tuesday. sometimes we get the thursday or friday spot. just depends if tony's being a dick or not." he muttered and you giggled.

"yeah, I'd love to come sometime." you smiled, swaying slightly, hands clasped in front of you.

"cool." eddie grinned. "I'd love to see you there."

you had gone, the next tuesday. steve joined you with his friend robin and dustin, two mutual friends of eddie as well. the three of you made up most of the crowd, but eddie didn't mind. he was just happy you'd showed up.

the two of you stayed crowded in a booth, even after everyone else left, sharing beers and giggly stories. you didn’t care that it was a school night, too caught up in eddie. he kissed you when he walked you to your car that night, boozy and blushy, stammering apologies and wide eyed when he pulled away.

you grinned, pressing a kiss to his cheek. on friday, you had your valentine’s day party. students hyper on exchanged candies, little cards tucked away in their handmade boxes.

you stayed late, pulling down decorations before the weekend, perking up when you heard eddie’s cart squeak and wheel down the hallway.

“need any help?” eddie asked, leaning in the doorway.

he helped you pull down each decoration, sharing heart shaped suckers and conversation hearts that were left in your own valentine’s day box.

“oh,” you said, spinning around, and opening the top drawer of your desk. “I almost forgot.”

you handed a small, red envelope over to him. your pretty writing scrawled on the top.

‘to: eddie’ with a small heart besides his name.

he’d blushed, laughing when he opened it. a cartoon guitar with flames and hearts that read, ‘you rock, valentine!’ in obnoxiously large font. beneath it, you’d scribbled a little note.

‘thanks for the best night out. you do rock. wondering if you’re free saturday?’ your number in the following lines.

eddie looked up wide eyed at you. you winked, blushing towards him. “if you want to go out again.” you shrugged. “I’d love to spend valentine’s day with you. maybe go to the movies? or the bowling alley?”

eddie nodded, blabbering yes while blushing so hard he was sure his cheeks would melt right onto the ground.

you waited for him to lock up, walking you to your car. he promised to call the next morning, and he did. when he showed up at your little town house, he greeted you with a dozen red roses, his blushing cheeks matching them.

[veganmikehanlon]

Realizations Are A Funny Thing: 3

CH 2

The next morning Steve wakes up with a familiar ache in his back from the dip in the couch. Eddie had offered to share his bed once, when they first started hanging out, but Steve knew it was a bad idea. Now he deals with occasional back pain. It’s fine.

He groans as he rolls to his feet and stretches before dropping to the floor to do a few pushups. Just to get his blood flowing. When he pops up Eddie is leaning against his doorway.

“Freak of nature,” He intones and Steve mouths along because it’s what Eddie says every time he sees Steve workout. Eddie huffs a laugh and pushes himself off the doorway to sit on the couch. He brings a joint with him and turns on the news because he’s actually a Grandpa.

Steve settles in to watch the morning news, it’s all sunshiney good stories, unlike the evening news. When they finish smoking they ditch the news for coffee. Steve makes sentences with the word magnets on the fridge and Eddie sits on the counter next to the coffee maker and tells Steve the order of his next set list, you know, if he ever gets another whole band and a place to play.

He asks if Steve will be a groupie and Steve wrinkles his nose, pretending his heart doesn’t race at the thought. Eddie laughs at him and says he’s not cool enough anyway. Steve throws a magnet at him.

Eddie yelps and flails to shield his face, knocking the magnet out of the air. Steve laughs at him and Eddie whines, sliding off the counter into a puddle on the floor.

“Now what the hell you doin’ on the floor?” A gruff voice asks from the edge of the kitchen. Eddie lifts his head to look at his uncle.

“Steve assaulted me, kill him.”

Steve sputters out a surprised laugh and looks nervously at Wayne. He’s not worried the man is going to kill him or anything, he just makes Steve nervous.

“Ed, get off the floor,” Wayne sighs and with a dramatic huff Eddie uses the cupboard to pull himself to his feet. “Now listen,” Wayne says, walking forward and filling the mug he already had in his hands with coffee. “I just got called into work, which means I won’t be around to keep an eye on you.” He blows on his coffee and takes a slow sip.

“Aw, c’mon Wayne, you’re actin’ like I’m a kid,” Eddie whines. Wayne raises his eyebrows.

“You ain’t a kid, but I got work for you to do around here and I ain’t gonna be around to keep you on track.” Wide eyes meet Steve’s before falling to the ground. Wayne follows Eddie’s look.

“Steve, you got plans today?” Wayne asks. Just waiting around for Robin to call about her big gay disaster.

“Uh, no sir,” Steve answers quickly.

“You mind stickin’ ‘round? Keep an eye on this kid?”

“Wayne!” Eddie exclaims, his face red.

“What? You and I both know you’ll get distracted by this or that and leave things unfinished, ain’t that right?” Wayne says pointedly and Eddie’s face gets impossibly redder. They stare each other down.

“Fine,” Eddie grumbles, crossing his arms and dropping his eyes. Wayne claps him on the shoulder.

“I’ll leave you the list,” He says, dropping his hand and walking to the junk drawer for a notepad.

Steve tries to make eye contact with Eddie but he stares resolutely at the ground. Steve rolls his eyes and leaves his spot by the fridge to get a mug from the counter above the coffee pot. Eddie startles when Steve draws near and Steve frowns down at the top of Eddie’s head. Shaking it off he grabs a mug and pours a cup of coffee. He goes back to the fridge because they always have vanilla almond milk and at this point Steve knows he’s welcome to it.

He pours the milk and takes a sip of his coffee. It could use some sugar, but the milk is already pushing it in this house of black coffee drinkers.

“Be good,” Wayne tells Eddie, handing him the list. Abandoning his coffee on the counter, he leaves the house. They listen to the door click shut and then Eddie is sinking to the ground with a groan. Steve chuckles against the rim of his mug and takes a sip. Eddie rolls onto his back and looks up at Steve.

“Am I a joke to you?” He asks accusatory.

“You’re the whole damn circus, man,” Steve laughs. Eddie cracks a smile and rolls his eyes.

“Whatever,” He bites out. He holds the list up over his head. “You ready to see me fail at physical activity?” He asks, looking over at Steve. Steve raises his eyebrows.

“I’m definitely interested in seeing that, yeah,” Steve nods, a large grin on his face. Eddie blows a raspberry at him.

“A joke,” He mutters, pulling himself to his feet. “That’s all I am. Just a joke.” He reaches standing height and sighs down at the list. Steve snorts and walks over and snatches the list from Eddie’s hand. It doesn’t even look all that bad. Pull weeds in the garden, mow the lawn, powerwash the shed.

“This isn’t so bad,” Steve comments, handing the list back to Eddie. He gives Steve a dead look and Steve shrugs. Eddie sets the paper down on the counter.

“Okay, first breakfast, then child labor,” Eddie says, turning to get a pan from the cupboard.

“You are not a child,” Steve points out.

“Fine then, adult labor that is killing my spirit,” Eddie says, waving his hand in a lackadaisical circle. Steve snorts.

“Alright, sure,” He concedes and Eddie nods firmly once. He makes them omelets with enough cheese to cause cardiac arrest. It’s one of the best things Steve’s ever eaten.

When they’re done, Steve follows Eddie down to the basement. He idly watches tv while Eddie changes. He doesn’t stare when Eddie comes out in an old pair of Hawkins High gym shorts. Like, an old pair, judging by how short and tight they are. Coupled with the white tank top that shows off exactly how muscular and hairy he is… Steve thinks he might be close to a heart attack for the second time that morning.

Following Eddie up the stairs is his next form of torture and he finds himself cursing Eddie for his choices, then Wayne for leaving any chore that may require such an outfit, then himself. Just for being the way he is.

They walk out the sliding back door and Steve follows Eddie to the garden and, well, garden is a nice way of putting it. Mostly it’s a box of weeds which makes this chore suddenly so much more work than Steve was expecting.

“Oh,” He lets out softly as the two of them stare at the mess. Eddie snorts.

“Not so bad, right?” He laughs, but there isn��t much humor in it.

“How much does Wayne like, expect you to do?” Steve asks, eyeing the thick weeds.

“Uhhh,” Eddie answers eloquently, scratching the top of his head.

“Great,” Steve mutters.

The sun shifts over them as the afternoon wears on. Eddie really is bad at physical activity, he manages to hurt himself pulling weeds, an activity little old ladies do, as Steve happily tells him. Steve did worry when it came to the heavy machinery but Eddie handles those like a pro. Apparently Steve need only be worried when Eddie only has to operate his own body. Although there was that bit of time when Steve needed to worry about his own body. Like when all he had to do was sit and watch Eddie mow the lawn. Or when Eddie expertly handled the power washer, his arms bulging as he controlled the stick, droplets of water sliding down the slopes of his arms.

Steve feels like he’s in a bad porno, like, he’s some housewife lusting after the gardener. Oh god, noooot a good thought. That one’s going in the “totally not horny for Eddie” box in his mind. It’s getting a little full in there but if there’s one thing Steve’s good at, it’s ignoring the things he doesn’t want to see.

“I’m fucking starving,” Eddie says after he’s stored the power washer in the shed.

“You cooking?” Steve asks with a smirk.

“Fuck no! After all that work I just did? No way, I need some pancakes,” Eddie answers.

Steve bums around while Eddie takes a shower. When he comes out he looks like a wet dog with his hair hanging around his face. It’s unfairly hot. An image of Eddie’s lithe body under a spray of water with his hair cascading down his back pops unbidden into Steve’s mind. Fuck. The only shocking thing about the thought is how vivid it is. Like, he loses sight of the Eddie in front of him his brain is so focused on conjuring up this incredibly inappropriate image.

He blinks and real life Eddie is giving him a weird look. Steve closes his slack jaw and gulps. Ah shit, he’s totally being a freak right now. Eddie doesn’t say anything though, just grabs his shoes and walks past Steve to the stairs. Steve takes exactly one second to breath before turning and following Eddie.

Steve drives because even on the outskirts of town there’s hateful people that believe Eddie could ever harm an innocent girl. So taking the beemer out is just safer. Even if Eddie gets out of the car with a jangle of chains, long hair swinging, his silver jewelry glinting in the sun. Steve thinks he looks like a rockstar but knows most just see a troublemaker at best.

Which Steve really finds ridiculous because the worst thing he’s seen Eddie do is be obnoxious. Maybe some light shoplifting. But nothing as bad as shit Steve used to get away with just because he was wearing a polo instead of a death metal t-shirt.

Eddie reaches the door of the restaurant first and swings it open for Steve. He walks into an almost empty diner, a few truckers here and there. They don’t look up from their plates and Steve appreciates the privacy.

They seat themselves at a booth and wait for someone to approach them. Eddie’s hair is starting to dry and get frizzy. Steve never understands why he doesn’t use product. Maybe it’s part of being “metal”.

An older lady approaches their table and hands them menus.

“How are you two cuties doing?” She asks with a genuine smile.

“Good,” Steve replies.

“Hungry,” Eddie replies. The waitress laughs and taps their table with her pointer finger.

“Can I start y’all off with something to drink?” They order waters and with a smile their waitress walks off. They look over their menus even though they both know what they’re getting, they’ve been here enough times to know what they like.

When the waitress comes back Eddie orders a stack of pancakes and a chocolate shake and Steve orders a Monte Cristo, because apparently they’re doing breakfast again.

Eddie leans back in his seat and kicks his legs up on the booth next to Steve, who tries not to be aware of their proximity. It’s hard when Eddie starts shaking his foot.

“So,” Eddie starts, drawing a piece of hair in front of his face. “Thanks for hanging out today, I know it wasn’t really a choice, ‘cause Wayne asked, but I appreciate it.”

Steve smiles across the booth at him, a swell of affection rising in his chest. It’s so cute when Eddie gets bashful, especially since it doesn’t happen very often.

“Yeah man, it’s not a problem, I always have a good time with you,” Steve tells him with a smile. Eddie’s cheeks pink and he rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, me too, or whatever,” He says quickly. Steve chuckles. The sound is wrapped in affection and Steve almost wants to take it back, feeling suddenly exposed. Then Eddie drops the hair hiding his face and cracks a smile at Steve and the feeling is washed away.

“I hope Robin isn’t too mad I stole you for all of today, I know y’all were supposed to talk today,” Eddie says. Steve winces, right, big gay disaster.

“I’m sure she’ll be fine, she’s got Nance,” He reassures. And it is reassuring knowing the girls are still friends.

The waitress comes with their food and Eddie draws his feet back under the table. They eat and talk, and Steve only gets distracted by Eddie sucking on his milkshake straw twice, nevermind the flashes of wanting to lick the syrup off of his lips. It’s all going in the Eddie box anyway.

When the waitress drops of their checks they both pull their wallets out.

“No way man,” Eddie says, waving Steve away. “Let me pay you back for babysitting me today.”

“You don’t gotta do that,” Steve insists, his cheeks heating up.

“What? You want me to pay you back in some other way?” Eddie raises his eyebrows and Steve frowns at him in confusion. Then he feels the toe of Eddie’s boot traveling up his calf and catches the smirk on Eddie’s face. He jerks away, his face flaming, and Eddie dissolves into a puddle of laughter.

“You’re such a shithead,” Steve grumbles, his mind racing with unwanted thoughts. Eddie’s laughing starts to taper off.

“Yeah,” He agrees with a chuckle. Steve rolls his eyes and puts his wallet back in his pocket. Eddie pays and they leave the diner.

They drive back to Eddie’s and Steve tries not to think about Eddie paying him back in a different way. God his thoughts are getting out of control.

[blog-of-a-multitude-of-fandoms]

Change- Eddie Munson

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Characters: Eddie Munson

Warnings: N/A

Request: Anon- Hi there, I’m sorry you’re feeling low. I really hope you can find something that cheers you up. Since you asked for Eddie, If you’re feeling up to this one, Can I request eddie munson crushing on the innocent sunshiney girl (party of the older kids group)? Thank you and I hope you have a good night

Word Count: 765

Author: Charlotte

It was to not know who Eddie Munson was. He may not be well liked at Hawkins High, but he was well known, loud and excitable. Before you met him personally, you had already been told more about him than any of your other peers, a majority of them lies but a few truths, along with what you could learn from his loud conversations in the dining hall. Even though you made habit of ignoring rumours, you still doubted you’d have much in common with him as you knew nothing about metal music nor dungeons and dragons but that didn’t mean you felt anything negative towards him, having often exchanged smiles across the halls in greeting, as you did with many other students.

You may have doubted that you would get along with him but now that you spent a lot of your time outside of school hanging out with him, Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley, you felt as though doubts weren’t to be called upon. You looked like the oddest quartet but somehow you were friends, having been best friends with Robin since you were toddlers, the other two joining later; but even you and Robin seemed like an odd pair, her sarcastic and brutal tone whilst you were blindly optimistic.

Like every Saturday you were heading to Family Video to meet Robin and Steve when they got off work, but recently Eddie had started to come by your home to pick you up to save you walking across town. He was never later so as the clock struck the hour, you heard his van pull up outside your house. You didn’t waste any time to run out to slide into the passenger seat.

You slung your rucksack off your shoulder into the foot well, doing your best to not get anything stuck to it from the junk on his floor.

“You really need to make me one of those,” he commented, gesturing to the care bear rucksack at your feet.

Not wanting to throw out your old care bears, you had converted your favourite few into bags, gutting them of their stuffing and adding a zipper and straps.

You cocked an eyebrow at him, his jacket sporting more metal band patches than you could name.

“Because you like care bears,” you retorted. “Something makes me think you’re lying to me, Munson.”

He let out a nervous laugh as he begun to drive, his hands gripping tightly to the wheel and his eyes glued to the road ahead.

“Why would I lie to you?” He asked.

You couldn’t help but laugh at him. “The guy that the whole town thinks is in league with the devil, likes care bears? Like how you insisted that you wanted scratch and sniff stickers on your guitar, and you love going roller-skating even though you spent both times either on the floor or clinging to my arm.”

Eddie shrugged his shoulders. “I’m a complex guy. I didn’t think you were so shallow to take things by face value.”

As he peered at you out of the corner of his eyes, you offered him a warm smile.

“I don’t take you for face value, and I know you are more complex than a demon worshipper, but I do truly doubt that you care about going to the roller rink or stickers that smell like candy.”

“Well, I hadn’t ever tried them,” he admitted. “But if you like them, then they can’t be half bad.”

“You don’t have to pretend to like things I like,” you said, reaching out to give his arm a reassuring squeeze. “You don’t need to change anything about you, I already like you.”

His head snapped towards you. “You like me?”

You playfully rolled your eyes at him. “Of course, I like you. How could I not like you?”

The smile on his face grew to its extreme, briefly looking at the road to make sure he wasn’t about to hit anything.

“Steve and Robin said you did but I didn’t believe them,” he grinned. “They thought I was a complete idiot for not telling you how I felt but I thought you’d just laugh in my face.”

“I believed them when they told me,” you said.

“You knew I liked you?”

“I’m not blind, Eddie,” you smiled. “I didn’t even need them to tell me. I just wanted to make sure you were sure before I said anything.”

He took one hand off the wheel, blindly holding it out to you until you laced your fingers with his.

“I’m more sure than anything else.”

[kalirarecs]

The Crack at the Heart of Everything - Fiona Fenn (novel)

(I got this ebook as a free ARC; it releases on November 12th 2024.)

This one will be as spoiler free as I can manage because this book was amazing and I don’t want to, well, spoil it.

(I treaded some of the same ground in a slightly more *gestures* form in a review you can read on Storygraph or LibraryThing.)

This is a dark-tinged fantasy, with an edge of (minor spoiler) post-apocalypse, with a queer romance which takes up space beautifully alongside a dramatic plot, and a very close focus - the entire book very much focuses on Orpheus, not because he’s a hero or a major player or a key figure (though he is) but because he’s him and we’re seeing the world through his eyes.

Y’all. Y’all, I don’t think I have read a better book handling trauma? Like. A lot of kinds of trauma, especially floating into the main line with other characters, but especially that dealing with deep childhood scars, also toxic friendships.

The story hurts, in many places, like weight on an old injury - something healed over but never forgotten. But also learning to take that ache and let it go.

(But it isn’t all that hard, achy examination - there’s lighthearted moments, laughter, teasing and breathless steps towards friendship, or romance, and the confusion they bring. There’s softer sorrows and wrenching grief, there’s, always, hope and moving forwards because what else are you going to do? What can you?)

It shows us a lot of hope even in dark, terrifying, seemingly-doomed spaces, and y’all that is so my jam.

Oh, and those other characters? Pretty much all the side characters felt like the main character of another story, who just happened to be intersecting Orpheus’ here. That is such a challenge to pull off, and it was great! (I’d really like to see Red’s background - and her friendship with Fenrir, and how it grew and their adventures together - and her future.)

So was the worldbuilding, which the author gave as the pieces showed on-page, giving us more that built on what we knew as more things happened and Orpheus learned more - as well as showing us things he already knows as they became relevant - allowing the reader to slowly weave together more of the history as well as the present of the world. It never felt out of place with amounts of detail or reveal or confusingly lacking.

The magic and the technology hit a nice balance of ‘yes that’s how that works, I see’ without tipping into ‘okay we did not need a treatise on it, I’ve lost what was going on before’. Orpheus’ Netherflame is fascinating, a little terrifying (even aside from the Hellbeasts!), and a very naturally-handled part of him in his actions, reactions, and senses.

We begin after a number of Major Happenings have, ah, happened, and past, because we aren’t following the drama of the world - we’re following when Orpheus’ world takes a sudden turn.

Orpheus who has in some ways been through a hell of a lot (no pun intended >.>) and in some ways has been very sheltered . . . and is now kicked away from that ‘shelter’ (for good or ill) and facing a lot more hell, and- Also a sunshiney tagalong of a hero trying to look after him, probably just to taunt him and kick him while he’s down, he’s sure, obnoxious handsome-

(Yes, it’s a grumpy x sunshine romance. Yes, Orpheus has no idea how feelings work.)

Orpheus’ view of the world gets a lot broader, very fast, and it hurts - it hurts him, shock and guilt and responsibility, and it hurts us, because there’s some very grim shit out there. (But it never feels grimdark or cruel for the sake of it, or ‘gritty’; there’s a lot of hope, and welcome from character who have their own struggles and triumphs going on, widening Orpheus’ experiences and his feelings.)

We begin very closely with Orpheus’ personal disaster, and as his understanding grows, it widens to the disaster facing the entire world - both that which has already happened, and the ways in which it could get so much worse - while keeping close in on Orpheus himself.

Every few chapters there’s one that’s an interlude to Orpheus’ past, (in chronological order) mainly his childhood with (now-Empress) Lore . . . and places where the reader can see the source of wounds Orpheus carries now, and even some he hasn’t . . . quite realised himself, yet, in the now.

There’s some twists and surprises, some of which are neatly foreshadowed and some of which really did take me by surprise - and those always came with an oh, ohhhh that fits realisation of settling into place when they did. Not once did something feel like an addition for shock value or similar.

Orpheus has to face a lot of rough realisations and decisions, and he struggles with them! He isn’t a hero, never thought of himself as such; but even when he struggles, even when he’s not sure what he’ll do, the reader can see the path he’ll choose and it hurts how hard he’s trying and what it costs him.

Fenrir, our sunshine, carries his own share of trauma (I think everyone does here, even our biggest villain; which is shown, as is how it led to said villainy . . . but not as an excuse or softening of the atrocities caused), but is that hero Orpheus knew he’d never be and maybe resents a little. There’s a hell of a lot more to him, we find along with Orpheus, and . . . more yet that there isn’t time or space or perspective for (locked in Orpheus’, of course) in the novel.

The romance builds slowly due largely to Orpheus having no idea how feelings work, his own or anyone else’s, really, and some very understandable hitches between that and the major dramatic plot elements. (My few agh points, shall we say, were very much people are agh, and didn’t stretch on too long.)

Also, the title? Super well chosen, weaves very well into the happenings, more and more so as we learn more.

I will not spoil it, but I was on the verge of tears for almost the last quarter of the book, anticipating the climax along with Orpheus, and the author surprised me pleasantly! (I did cry once during the book; it was not at the end, and it was a very well done moment of grief and loss as much as it hurt, and Orpheus’ raging reaction to it was . . . cathartic and painful and soothing at once.) I was surprised at how the main villain was handled, but it was not a disappointment (and at least/especially for Orpheus, may have been the best way it could have gone).

While the book stands alone well, it does say it’s book one of a series; I’m quite curious to see how Fiona Fenn continues to explore the world, and, hopefully, at least some of the characters I got so attached to or fascinated by here.

[idontknowreallywhy]

Resurface 9 - Rebalance

Stepping away from the main event a little for a look at how the Tinies are doing…

❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛

Thunderbird Two sat steaming on the icy concrete of the hospital’s helipad. It was a bright morning in Calgary but everything was deeply, deeply white. It was only marginally above eyeball-freezing temperature and it would definitely have been more sensible to wait for Grandma to finish whatever argument she was having with the pharmacy inside… either inside the ship, or the hospital. But Gordon didn’t seem to want to do either of those and Alan sort of got it, so… here they were.

Alan paced the length of the big green behemoth. Slowly. Carefully, testing each step before putting his weight on that foot. He didn’t want to slip and cause an incident. If only they’d suited up his uniform boots would have been far more grippy… and warmer. Still, he needed to concentrate on something and the act of walking was, ironically, safer ground than most of the other options. He shivered.

“You alright, Allie?”

“Sure, why wouldn’t I be?” He didn’t look around. Focussed on placing his feet one at a time into the footprints he left on the last pass.

“Well I dunno, perhaps the horrifying experience of our most consistent, reliable elder brother suddenly losing his sanity, yelling at our dead father and nearly throwing himself and Scott down a cliff?”

Alan flinched. Then looked down at Gordon who was crouched by one of Two’s struts, looking for all the world like a kicked puppy. He looked young, and lost and in need of a big brother. But right now there weren’t any available, only Alan the perpetual younger brother. Alan the baby who needed protecting from everything. Alan the small and incompetent who hid a terrible secret inside.

If Gordon knew… if Scott and John knew… what if Virgil told them? Did Virgil even know?

He may only have been a little kid but he had been smart enough to know he’d messed up. Smart enough to join the dots between his clumsiness and Virgil getting sick. He hadn’t been smart enough to understand why one brother had left him, but he had known he was to blame for nearly losing the second.

He grit his teeth and started pacing again.

And then paused and made a U-turn back to where his usually irrepressibly sunshiney brother huddled, stony-faced in the shadow of his wingman’s ship. Alan crouched alongside him and they both stared into the distance for a while.

“This sucks.” He ventured.

“Yup.”

“You alright?”

“No.”

Alan let out a humourless laugh.

“Sorry, stupid question.”

“I asked it too.”

“Yeah, and I lied. Sorry.”

“S’ok.”

He really wasn’t very good at this. He tried to think what Scott or Virgil would do, and mostly the talking bit happened later… the first response to a sad sibling usually boiled down to one of those magical all-encompassing big brother hugs. But surely he needed to be bigger than Gordon for that to work? Alan was the baby, he didn’t have the arms for it. Didn’t have the presence.

Yet… maybe it wasn’t about size. Thunderbird Three was, after all, a lot bigger than Two. But Two’s wings had an unparalleled ability to shelter them all. While Three was adventure, Two was safety. And Four, Alan realised, depended on her more than any of them.

Right now Four needed Two badly.

But Three was better than nothing.

He held his breath and reached around Gordon’s shoulders and pulled him close. His elder brother stiffened for a moment, clearly conflicted. Then seemed to melt into Alan’s side with a gasp. Alan wrapped his other arm around him and squeezed tighter.

“What if we don’t get him back, Alan?”

“We will. He will be ok.”

“You don’t know that.”

“No, but… I’m hoping really really hard.”

“I guess that’s all we’ve got.”

“That and… we always have each other? Tracys stick together no matter what, right?”

Gordon huffed a small laugh from somewhere in the vicinity of Alan’s armpit.

“What?”

“You’re just a teeny tiny Scott clone, you know that right?”

“I’m not that small!”

Alan flicked Gordon on the ear. Gordon jabbed him in the side which made him squeal uncontrollably. They scrabbled for a few moments before both tipped over and lay there for a minute, laughing the kind of laughs you laugh when the only other option is to cry.

💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️

Sally hurried out of the lift, dragging a small suitcase and clutching the paper pharmacy bag she’d had to shout down three junior pharmacists and two senior to obtain. Turned out, even when you have the consultant psychiatrist convinced, the pharma team were very reluctant to dispense an older drug, even if it had been proven to work well on a particular patient in the past. She didn’t have time to mess about with the shiny new third gen antipsys when she didn’t know how her boy would react. She just needed some certainty. They all did. That she’d managed to make them see sense without having to use the Name was professionally satisfying. She didn’t really want to risk that kind of speculation right now. People could be unkind about things they didn’t understand.

Somewhat apprehensive as to what state Gordon and Alan might be in, she was surprised, although not unpleasantly, to find both younger brothers on their feet, brushing slush from their clothes and hair… flicking it at each other just a little more than seemed strictly necessary. She raised an eyebrow in askance then lowered it, deciding not to go there. Whatever kept these two going right now was fine by her. She hugged them both briefly but hard, then heaved the case on to the platform.

“Right boys, let’s go home.”

[msweebyness]

DuPont School for Monstrous Youths Intro

What's up, ya'll? As you know, I was inspired by Sparky's Creepsters Intro from a while back to make some for our other AU's! Here's the next in the line-up! @artzychic27 @imsparky2002

("Calling All the Monsters" begins to play. The camera shows a wide shot of a gothic palatial school, before lunging forward to zoom up to the building's massive front doors.)

(A human boy with bright green eyes and messy golden hair waves to the audience with a welcoming grin, pushing the doors open and beckoning us to come inside.)

*TITLE CARD: Adrien Agreste: Monster Ally, Human Sunshine*

(The camera swings around to where a cloth girl with pigtails made of yarn and large blue buttons for eyes stumbles to a stop in the hallway, giving the audience a shy wave with one hand and sheepishly clutching her arm with the other.)

*TITLE CARD: Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Voodoo Doll: Clumsy, but cute as a button*

(Marinette jumps before gaining a fond smile as a floating, transparent girl with eerie purple sclera and chains around her limbs phases through a wall to her side. The ghostly girl looks at the audience, winking with a smile as she snaps a picture with her cell.)

*TITLE CARD: Alya Cesaire, Ghost: Paranormal reporter with a spunky spirit*

(Alya bids Marinette a wave goodbye before she finds a green arm on the floor. She picks it up with a fond shake of her head and flies down the hall. We see a POV above Alya's head as she flies, and she stops in a room where several students are dancing. She tosses the arm across the room, and it lands in the outstretched hand of a green-skinned boy covered in stitching, who is operating a set of turntables. He attaches the arm before sending a jolt of electricity into the turntables with a huge grin, kicking the tunes up a notch.)

*TITLE CARD: Nino Lahiffe, Stein Monster: Stitched together to be the life of the party!*

(We hear high, girlish laughter, and Nino sends a jolt of electricity through a cord, which we follow to a large stage, where a set of bright pink curtains opens and reveals a skeletal girl with short blonde hair and a brilliant smile, twirling around as she belts a high note, until one of her hands flies off into the crowd.)

*TITLE CARD: Rose Lavillant, Skeleton: Sunshiney singer with punk rock in her bones!*

(The boney hand is caught by a jet-black bat with a purple streaked lock of hair over its forehead, which then swoops down to the stage, transforming into a tall girl with long black hair and deathly pale skin, who gives Rose a fanged smile before taking up her bass guitar.)

*TITLE CARD: Juleka Couffaine, Vampire: Queen of darkness who's batty on the bass!

(Another bat, this one with teal-streaked bangs swoops into the room with a musical shriek, before landing on the stage beside the two girls and transforming into a boy with a striking resemblance to Juleka, who flashes his own fangs in a grin before playing a deafening riff on his guitar.)

*TITLE CARD: Luka Couffaine, Vampire: Charming and cool vamp who lives to rock!

(Wafts of steam rise up through the floorboards, and we drop downward until we end up in an old-fashioned machine workshop, where a boy made entirely of copper is working on some gadgets at a table surrounded by tools and small parts. His face lights up with a smile as he finally works out an issue with his latest invention. His rocket boots fire up as he goes to show his friends.)

*TITLE CARD: Max Kante, Steam-Powered Robot: Old-fashioned chap with a talent for tech!*

(As Max jets down the hallway, a couple of older students smirk and prepare to trip him up...only to freeze in place as they become marble statues. The camera pans around to a short girl with coral snakes in place of hair, slipping a pair of dark shades back up to cover her reptilian blue eyes.)

*TITLE CARD: Alix Kubdel, Gorgon: Daredevil viper with a stony stare and a serious attitude!*

(A frisbee cuts across the screen, catching Alix's attention. She rolls her eyes as the camera zooms to focus on a tall, muscular boy with furry arms and a wagging wolf tail, panting as he chases after the frisbee, before letting out a loud howl as he jumps into the air.)

*TITLE CARD: Le Chien Kim, Werewolf: Oversized puppy who looks out for his pack!*

(Kim catches the frisbee in his teeth, before the camera follows him racing down the hall towards a large fountain with water so deep you can't see the bottom. As the werewolf approaches, a girl with wavy red hair and scaly blue skin rises from the water, giggling as Kim greets her by affectionately licking her cheek before she gives him a scratch behind the ears.)

*TITLE CARD: Ondine Rivas, Aquatic Monster: Fish out of water with a bubbly personality!*

(A thick cluster of vines covers the screen, before clearing to reveal a beautiful and vibrant greenhouse. The giant monstrous plants are being tended to by a petite girl with thick vines for hair and bright green skin. She hums a sweet song to herself as she waters a plant's roots.)

*TITLE CARD: Mylene Haprele, Plant Monster: Gentle flower child with two green thumbs!*

(Mylene gasps as a stray vine knocks a large flowerpot over a ledge, sending the plant hurtling toward the ground, only for a large gray hand to catch it midair. The camera zooms out to show a huge, burly boy with dark gray skin and forearms covered in white fur. He sets the pot down before looking up at Mylene, his surly expression changing to a gentle smile.)

*TITLE CARD: Ivan Bruel, Yeti: A mountain of a guy with a gentle heart!*

(The scene flashes back to the main hall, which is now filled with a whirlwind of sand, which parts to reveal someone in the center of it. Posing dramatically with her arms raised is a girl with tanned skin wrapped in bandages and adorned with lavish jewelry. She smiles smugly as she now holds everyone's attention.)

*TITLE CARD: Chloe Bourgeois, Mummy: "Mean" Queen of the halls with a softer side under her wraps!*

(Chloe squawks with slight indignation as she's lightly pushed to the side, and ushered towards the classroom by another mummy girl, this one wearing a white beanie and more casual attire, who rolls her eyes fondly at her sister's dramatic antics.)

*TITLE CARD: Zoe Lee, Mummy: Egyptian princess who'll never make you bow!*

(The camera pans back to the massive sand pile, where a girl with messy ginger hair and rotting skin picks up the book bag that Chloe accidentally left behind, shaking her head with fond exasperation as she adjusts her glasses, before heading down the hall with her head buried in a textbook.)

*TITLE CARD: Sabrina Raincomprix, Zombie: Shuffler with some serious BRAAAINS.*

(The camera pans upward and zooms into a cranny to reveal a pile of treasure in a small cave alcove, on top of which a girl with bronze scales and reptilian green eyes sits with a regal poise, using a blunt stone to sharpen her large horns.)

*TITLE CARD: Kagami Tsurugi, Dragon: A regal reptile with a slight hoarding issue!*

(We zoom out of the cave and up to a high tower of the school, where a boy made entirely of granite with shaggy red hair sits, sketching the scene of students walking into the school. His expression is cold and reserved, and his eyes carefully watch for any trouble arising.)

*TITLE CARD: Nathaniel Kurtzberg, Gargoyle: Dedicated sentry with a passion for the artistic!*

(Nathaniel's stony expression melts into a soft smile as he sees another boy flying up to his perch. The boy, who has adorably big green eyes and giant grey moth wings, sits next to Nathaniel, taking out his journal as the boyfriends share a quiet moment together.)

*TITLE CARD: Marc Anciel, Moth Monster: Shy and sweet writer who's just a bit jumpy!*

(A loud holler sounds from somewhere below the two, and the camera pans down to show a tall, dark-skinned student with wild curls and thick brown fur on their forearms. With a mighty bound, they leap over the school's high walls, high-fiving several students as they enter the halls.)

*TITLE CARD: Denise Cabello, Sasquatch: Big feet, bigger voice, biggest personality!*

(Denise fondly shakes their head as they watch a boy with messy red hair and a single, large green eye in the center of their forehead bump into a wall of lockers, his head having been buried in something he was doing on his tablet. Looking up, he adjusts his large, single-lens glasses.)

*TITLE CARD: Simon O'Connor, Cyclops: Techie who says one eye is better than two!*

(The scene changes to the school's observatory, where a girl with starry blue skin and silvery pigtails is looking through the large telescope into the sky. She turns to add some notes to the star map she is making.)

*TITLE CARD: Aurore Boreale, Extraterrestrial: Straight A student from a whole different world!*

(Aurore turns and smiles as bright blue ooze begins to rise up from a grate, taking the shape of a girl with tar-like black hair and loose-fitting clothes. With a frown, the girl pulls a few miscellaneous small objects out of her slimy skin.)

*TITLE CARD: Mireille Caquet, Slime Monster: Jiggly and shy sweetheart who leaves a trail behind!*

(The scene changes and the camera is skimming along the high walls of the school, where a girl with bright yellow skin and a pixie cut made of leaping flames is doing impressive parkour stunts, leaping from surface to surface.)

*TITLE CARD: Lacey Greene, Fire Elemental: A real hothead who never turns down a challenge!*

(The screen is covered by a thick velvet curtain, which is then pulled back to show a large stage in the center of the school's vast catacombs. A rousing tune is being played on a massive pipe organ by a ghostly boy with pale purple skin and a bedazzled half mask over the left side of his face.)

*TITLE CARD: Jean DuParc, Phantom: Snazzy spirit with a heart full of song!*

(Jean smiles lovingly at a boy sitting on the body of the pipe organ, listening in content to the song his boyfriend is playing. He wears a long cloak and taps the end of his scythe on the floor to the tempo of the music, before blushing as Jean pulls out a black rose to offer him.)

*TITLE CARD: Austin Tomassian, Reaper: Showing us death is nothing to be afraid of!*

(We cut back to a hallway in the school, where a gargoyle boy with badly coiffed blond hair and clad in varying shades of purple is running with a fearful look on his face as he's holding a red cloak. The camera pans behind him and we see a student with dark curls, large horns and hooves in place of feet charging after him with an enraged snort.)

*TITLE CARD: Cosette Bellamy, Minotaur: Run the other way when they're seeing red!*

(The camera pans up to the ceiling, and we see a large collection of massive spider webs, in the center of which sits a girl with six red eyes and six arms. She holds a set of knitting needles in each set of hands.)

*TITLE CARD: Reshma Leghari, Arachnoid: Spider Lady with seriously stylish threads!*

(Reshma hears a purring sound behind her and turns with a smile to see her best friend stretched out on a ledge. Batting a cat toy between his hands, a boy with black cat ears and a feline tail gives the spider girl a cheeky smile.)

*TITLE CARD: Ismael Prisk, Werecat: Snarky kitty with a mind for mischief*

(We change to a shot of two classroom doors. A woman with a flaming ginger hair and mismatched legs knocks on the door, holding the head of a woman with purple hair. A woman's headless body comes to the door, taking the head from the other woman and placing it on her neck, before the two share a laugh.)

*TITLE CARD: Caline Bustier, Empousa & Olga Mendeliev, Headless Horsewoman: DuPont's top teachers and total mama bears*

(A bright ray of light shines in through a stained-glass window, which opens to allow a girl with glowing eyes and flaming wings to fly in, working on sketches for her latest cartoon, a bright smile on her face.)

*TITLE CARD: Ayesha Reynolds, Angel: Ray of sunshine descended from the heavens above!*

(We zoom over to a corner, where a boy with crimson skin and large devil horns sits with his legs crossed in the center of a ring of hellfire, deep in meditation. His eyes suddenly open, giving us a mischievous smirk.)

*TITLE CARD: Anthony Mathis, Daemon: Born to be wicked, but good at heart!*

(The camera zooms in the doors of the front office, where a stack of documents appears to be floating through the room. We hear the sound of fingers snapping, and a girl suddenly appears holding the papers, her limbs translucent at the ends. She goes over and begins filing the papers.)

*TITLE CARD: Dot Waverly, Vanisher: Not always all 'there', but always on top of things!*

(Dot suddenly jumps as a darkly mischievous smile appears before her, rolling her eyes as theatrical laughter fills the room. With a dramatic swoosh of her parasol, a girl dressed in a gothic kimono with three swishing fox tails appears, giving us a playful grin.)

*TITLE CARD: Eri Tanaka, Kitsune: Mischievous Yokai with a love for all things gothic and dramatic!*

(We are transported with a swish of Eri’s tails to the school’s art room, where a student with rainbow-streaked hair and large glasses is firing bolts of color from the iridescent horn on her forehead at a canvas, smiling brightly all the time.)

*TITLE CARD: Petra Markov, Unicorn: One-of-a-kind artist and true free spirit!*

(We are now in the cafeteria, where a group of students are smiling blissfully as a hauntingly beautiful singing voice fills the room. The camera then zooms in on a lovely girl with feathery wings and fish scales along her arms, singing the beauteous melody.)

*TITLE CARD: Evie Balthazar, Siren: Sweet-natured lady who'll enchant you with song!*

(Hearing the sound of hoofbeats, Evie flaps over the window, smiling as she waves and blows a kiss, which is caught by a brawny boy with the lower half of a horse, as he’s sprinting across the school’s courtyard.)

*TITLE CARD: Brecken Sutcliffe, Centaur: Big-hearted country fella who's more horse than cowboy!*

(Some older students are harassing a monster from the younger grades, when suddenly, one of them hears a loud *crunch* right behind their head, turning around to see a short but burly student with a body made entirely of stone glaring at them.)

*TITLE CARD: Roxie Richter, Stone Golem: The most hard-headed person you'll ever meet!*

(The scene transitions to the school’s chemistry lab, where a student with long pointed ears and leathery bat wings combines different chemicals into a vial, giggling enthusiastically as she awaits the reaction to occur.)

*TITLE CARD: Anais Ackerman, Werebat: Nocturnal Brainiac who's batty about chemistry!*

(In another area of the lab, a girl with strawberry blonde curls and mint green skin is stirring a bubbling cauldron as she hums a Hex Girls tune to herself, prepping a spell to help the theater club.)

*TITLE CARD: Candace Fletcher, Witch: A real Hex Girl who'll cast a spell on you...if you give her sufficient reason.*

(The scene transitions to the gym, where a tall and lean boy with orange scaley skin, spiky multicolored hair and blunt horns jumps up to score a slam dunk…only to stumble as he hits the ground again.)

*TITLE CARD: Soo-Yeon Park, Dokkaebi: Anxious bean who's a beast on the casketball court!*

(In another area of the gym, a girl with messy red hair and the lower half of a serpent sits on the bleachers, scrolling through her phone and only looking up to make a snarky (but good-natured) comment about the slip-up.)

*TITLE CARD: Staci Kwan, Naga: A snarky snake who refuses to be charmed.*

(The scene changes to the school’s shop class, where a girl with six pink tentacles and a bright smile is helping move several large stacks of wood, humming a cheerful tune to herself.)

*TITLE CARD: Margo Jorgensen, Kraken: Sweetest caecilian in the seas who will always lend a helping tentacle!*

(The scene moves back to the school’s massive pool, where a girl with messy green hair, scaley green skin and finlike feet is holding a stop watch, barking commands to the swim class she is leading.)

*TITLE CARD: Parker Beauregard, Nixie: Swims to the beat of a military drum!*

(The camera exits the pool just as a girl with pointed ears, wild red curls and rapidly fluttering wings whizzes by on a skateboard with a sharp-toothed grin and her prosthetic leg on display.)

*TITLE CARD: Aggie Findlay, Faerie: Spunky sprite who will punt ableist asses!*

(The camera suddenly goes through the lens of a video camera, ending in the school’s news studio, where a student with eagle-like wings, and the claws and tail of a lion smiles spacily as they operate the camera from their bedazzled wheelchair.)

*TITLE CARD: Mona Truffaut, Gryphon: May be confined to the ground, but their head is in the clouds!*

(The shot changes to a pan down of a huge blackboard, where a girl with shiny wire hair and polished chrome skin, the orifice lines glowing with energy effortlessly solves a complex math problem, before loading the results into her data receptor.)

*TITLE CARD: Eloise Matuidi, Hi-Tech Bot: Mathematical genius with all the latest updates!*

(The students in a nearby hallway nervously avert their eyes, hoping not to catch the attention of a boy with immaculate blonde hair woven with golden snakes. He pauses a moment to send a sharp look to the camera, pulling his pink-lens sunglasses down with a challenging look.)

*TITLE CARD: Austin Armbruster, Gorgon: An asp fashionista with a cutting remark at the ready!*

(The hallway suddenly shakes with a deafening shriek, and the present students all shoot annoyed looks at a smirking boy with messy red hair and solid white eyes, who only gives them a smug laugh in return.)

*TITLE CARD: Austin Quinlan, Banshee: A temperamental tormented spirit who'll scream the house down!*

(We hear a loud shout of anger and the camera pans over to a boy with hairy hands and large horns, who has just crushed a gaming console in his hands after losing a game…only to pull out another one and start a new game.)

*TITLE CARD: Austin Boulet, Troll: Dedicated gamer with a big hidden temper!*

(The school’s pompous principal, M. Damocles, an owl man creature, is walking down the hall and suddenly lets out a loud shout as he steps on a trip wire and slips head over ass in the hallway. The camera pans over to a laughing student with small horns poking out from her curly brown hair, adjusting his red cap with a clawed green hand before taking off down the hall.)

*TITLE CARD: DJ Detweiler, Goblin: Impish prankster who stands up for the little guys!*

(As Damocles gets up with a grumble, the scene transitions to an in-school dance studio, where a muscular boy with a cowl of hair that resembles a rooster’s crest, reptilian eyes and scaley skin performs a flawless pirouette, before readjusting his dark black shades.)

*TITLE CARD: Austin Spinelli, Basilisk: Resident tough guy with a petrifying power, so don't mess with his friends!*

(The camera zooms to the music classroom nextdoor, where a tall student with thick blonde curls, mottled green skin and large fangs belts out a window-shattering high note, smiling shyly as she receives thunderous applause from other students in the room.)

*TITLE CARD: Mindy Blumberg, Ogre: Gentle-natured ogress with a serious passion for song!*

(We transition to a large ramp set up by the school’s pool, where a student with a tall, finlike Mohawk and a shimmering fish tail is about to perform a daring jump in their wheelchair, other students watching in awe as she begins his descent.)

*TITLE CARD: Victoria LeSalle, Mermaid: 'Stuck' with a tail, but not afraid to get dangerous!*

(The camera cuts over to the school’s grand main stairwell, where a girl with wild red curls, and the lower body of a goat slides down the handrail with an excited squeal, landing with a graceful bleat and a bright laugh.)

*TITLE CARD: Lotta Jameson, Satyr: Half-goat, half-girl, all adventurous spirit!*

(From above, Lotta hears a goat-like shriek and looks up with a smile, waving to a girl doing pull-ups from the rafters. The girl has cropped blonde hair that takes a backseat to her large horns, as well as leathery black wings and cloven hooves.)

*TITLE CARD: Gia Griswold, Jersey Devil: Nothing devilish about this military brat but the horns!*

(From underneath a table, a very small student with short red hair and a tall hat steps out, flipping through various notes of incriminating info on the principal on zir phone.)

*TITLE CARD: Rochelle Weams, Gnome: This little gnome knows what's up with everyone!*

(We hear a loud whoop, the camera pans up to the rafters, where a girl with a messy blonde ponytail, reddish-brown fur on her forearms, and large sabertooth tusks swings back and forth, before leaping down with an impressive tuck and roll.)

*TITLE CARD: Kendra Anne Gunderson, Yowie: Audacious Aussie with serious acrobatic skills!*

(The scene changes to a secluded closet of the school, which is filled with shelves loaded to the brim with vials of multicolored sand. A student with short mint green hair and blackened limbs meticulously labels and organizes each container.)

*TITLE CARD: Mason Ewing, Bogey: Super organized but a bit too nervous to get his scare on!*

(The scene transitions to a bog located on the school grounds, the waters beginning to bubble. A tall boy with shaggy red hair, moss-coated skin and a prosthetic leg rises, inspecting a strange object with a technological magnifying glass.)

*TITLE CARD: Gerard Grundler, Swamp Thing: The most brilliant marsh man you'll ever meet!*

(We cut away from the school for a moment, to a nearby human town, where two teens, a fidgeting Hispanic boy and a short and stocky blonde girl are hanging a poster for a monster activism event. A book suddenly hits the boy in the shoulder, prompting the girl to whip around with a fist raised in threat, causing the harassing assholes to scatter.)

*TITLE CARD: Jesse Ortega & Missy Rutherford, Human Allies: Fighting alongside Adrien for monster rights!*

(We flash back to the school, to a hallway where several sets of students are arguing, a few about to fight physically. A girl with ragged black wings and sharp talons laughs as she revels in the chaos she’s caused, babbling nonstop to her compatriots, hidden in the shadows.)

*TITLE CARD: Lila Rossi, Harpy: A devious birdy who lives to cause misery and chaos!*

(Suddenly, Lila is silenced, a hex preventing her from making another sound. Ignoring the harpy's indignant gesturing, a blonde boy wearing a menacing Jack O' Lantern mask appears in the monsters' midst, terrifying them and sending them running, making him smile with malevolent glee.)

*TITLE CARD: Felix Graham de Vanily/Jack O' Ripper: Leader of the Anti-Monster Brigade with a draconic fixation!*

(A sort of toxic gas fills the hallways, making many of the monster students fall to their knees, holding their throats. The camera pans over to a tall and muscular boy, littered with scars and wearing accessories made from monsters he's killed. His smile is cruel and sadistic.)

*TITLE CARD: Lucien Van Helsing, Monster Hunter: The latest in a family line of murderous evil, Felix's right-hand man.*

(The villains yelp in pain as they clutch at their necks, which suddenly have sharp pain shoot through them. They turn and see Marinette, a needle pressed in the side of her neck as her button eyes are glowing, focusing her hoodoo powers on them. Through the pain, Felix manages to teleport them out of there. Marinette's partners hug her proudly, and all the monster students gather in the main hall before turning to the screen for a group shot.)

(A flash of lightning cracks across the screen, revealing the title in gothic, cursive script: "DuPont School for Monstrous Youths".)

Leave your thoughts in the comments and reblogs! Keep an eye out for the final installment!

[running-tweezers]

After a lot of encouraging from my bestie @phantasmechanical, and some interest from a few folks here, I’ve decided to post the first part of an AU fic I’m writing (and have been hyperfixated on) with my favorite ocs. There are currently 6 parts written, over 13k words, and I’m still working on it. If you enjoy, I live and breathe off comments and reblogs and asks and such. And I’ll continue posting more here on occasion. SO, without further ado.

~ Pictures Of You - Part 1 ~

The year is 1989. Nate, with his sunshiney smile, his love of plants, and his mostly “normal” tastes, has fallen head over heels. There’s only one issue. He’s fallen for a gorgeous goth named Zephyr he only sees on public access TV once a week.

Rated: T

2255 words

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

~ April 28, 1989 ~

Nate’s eyelids drooped a bit as the clock made its way closer to 1 AM. He would regret this in the morning. He always did. But it was worth it.

This Thursday night routine was all a secret for a while, until his sister started calling him out for nearly nodding off during their Friday lunch catch up sessions. He couldn’t hide it from her, he had to fess up. She had just laughed and rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, that figures,” she’d said. “You’ve always had a thing for the freaks.” She scolded him gently for not getting enough sleep and that was that, aside from the odd comment occasionally about his “hot TV goth.”

Nate poured a cup of the coffee he brewed just for this, hoping the caffeine would pull him through the next half hour without making him jittery all night. It was either that, or risk falling asleep on his uncomfortable couch again. Then he’d really regret it.

He settled in and flicked on the TV, switching it to the public access station before the screen could even fully light up. What played before varied from week to week. Sometimes it was this phony TV psychic, sometimes reruns of some televangelist, sometimes just infomercials selling Ginsu knives and love song compilations. He figured they couldn’t find someone willing to stick to such a late time slot. This week it was some New Wave guy with questionable talent and even more questionable haircut, banging on a Cassio keyboard and singing off key. He hit the mute button and sipped from his mug, waiting for the last few minutes to pass.

Soon the irritating Duran Duran wannabe cut out, and the screen filled with familiar color bars. He unmuted, just in time to hear the last bit of ringing dead air cut suddenly to the sound of guitars and deep droning vocals.

And there they were.

Behind a dimly lit desk in a brick walled basement, with thick black eye makeup and wild, ratted up hair, sat the whole reason Nate was still awake at this time every Thursday night.

“Welcome, night owls and creatures of the darkness.” The figure on the screen spoke to the camera, in a cold, deadpan voice, never letting their face show anything more than a wry smirk. “My name’s Zephyr and you’ve stumbled into my world for the next half hour. Aren’t you lucky.”

A phone number hung at the bottom of the screen as they continued their introduction. “If you have something worthwhile to say, call in. If not, don’t bother.”

They launched immediately into a long and rambling explanation of the song playing in the background that kicked off the show. Nate recognized the name of the band, ‘Sisters of Mercy,” from their music recommendations in the past. He barely knew anything about the goth scene they talked about. What he did know, however, was that they were gorgeous. There was something so entrancing about them. Something dark and mysterious that he couldn’t look away from.

Maybe Mick was right. Maybe he was just into freaks.

“Speaking of music, I got my hands on the single The Cure put out last week, the one from the new album coming out soon. I’m gonna get the album as soon as it hits the shelves, but whatever, I couldn’t resist.” Their face remained apathetic, but there was an undeniable light behind their eyes. It was obvious they were excited behind the thin mask of indifference. It was endlessly endearing.

“Fascination Street is the single, and it’s incredible, even the B-side is great—“ They paused looking down at their switchboard. “Looks like there’s someone on the line,” they muttered, fiddling with the buttons on the desk in front of them. “Hello, you’re on the air.”

“Yeah, me and my friend have a question,” the distorted phone voice slurred with the distinct cadence of a drunk college kid, with said friend laughing in the background. “Are you a guy or a girl?”

Zephyr breathed a weary sigh, and leaned back in their chair. “Doesn’t matter, I’m not gonna fuck you either way.”

“Who the hell said I wanted to fuck you, you ugly fucking frea-“

“Bite me,” they flatly interrupted, disconnecting the line. “Anyway, Facination Street…”

Calls like that were too common. More people called in to be rude than to actually talk. It just seemed to come with the territory, but they handled them pretty well. It took a person with a ton of courage to come on TV and deal with people like that, just so they could talk about things they loved. That only made them that much more intriguing.

“I got the cassette version, the 12-inch vinyl has an extended intro, plus an extra B-side. I heard that extended intro for the first time at the club the other night. I swear it was a fucking spiritual experience. Being on the floor at The Underground, listening to The Cure, with all those other people? That's church to me. That’s my religion.” He continued with that same intensity, as if nothing happened. That was their favorite band, they talked about them all the time. He’d never listened to any of their music, but every time he saw one of their albums on the shelf at the store, his mind lit up with recognition.

He daydreamed occasionally of bumping into them at Sam Goody, just by pure coincidence. Striking up a conversation. Asking them about what music they’d recommend. Hearing their passionate rambling in person. It was dumb. They probably went to much cooler, underground record stores than some mall chain. But it was nice to think about.

“We have another caller.” Once again they paused their stream of consciousness and pressed buttons on the switchboard. “Hello, you’re on the air.”

“The Cure sucks shit.” The voice on the other side of the phone managed to sound even more bored and detached, almost like it was a competition. “They’re nothing but mainstream garbage now.”

“Have you heard the new single?”

“No, but their whole last album was poppy bullshit.”

“It had a little bit of a pop sound, yeah, but the meat of what makes them good was still there,” they argued. “You’re acting like they became fuckin, Tiffany and started doing mall shows or something.”

“They might as well be.”

“I don’t think you know what you’re talking about.”

“Well I think you’re a poser.”

They noticeably bristled at the accusation. “I’m already halfway through my slot, I don’t have time for this shit.” They disconnected the call, looking a bit more shaken than usual.

Why did people call in just to be assholes? Maybe the anonymity combined with an audience was too sweet a deal to people like that. Nate genuinely couldn’t understand that way of thinking. Where was the joy in being mean to a stranger?

He glanced at the phone sitting on the end table by the couch. Calling in had crossed his mind before. He had even had the number dialed, ready to press the call button a few times, but he always chickened out in the end. What would he even say? He didn’t know anything about any of this. So he remained a silent observer, content to just watch this beautiful goth waxing poetic about the things they cared about.

They didn’t have to wait much longer for another call. They answered with a touch of exasperation. “Hello, you’re on the air.”

“Yeah, remember me, bitch?”

Without wasting a second, what was obviously the drunk caller from earlier, dove in with some of the most brutal nastiness Nate had ever heard anyone spew, much less a caller on their show. The onslaught of insults and hate speech seemed to be unending, attacking every aspect that he could think of. Nothing was off limits to this guy. It turned Nate’s stomach to be reminded so vividly how awful some people could be.

Zephyr didn’t look like they were faring well either. They scrambled to disconnect the call, blurting out a single shaky “fuck you,” before silencing him. They let out a heavy breath, their silence only accentuated by their faint music still playing in the background.

Something broke. The nonchalant, confident Zephyr he’d come to know through the screen was completely gone for a few brief seconds. Like they’d never been there.

They cleared their throat and sat back up straight in their chair, trying to regain composure. “Sorry about that,” they said, as solidly as they could muster. “Maybe we should just move on to something else…”

Nate made up his mind in an instant.

He grabbed the phone next to him and carefully dialed the on screen number, not hesitating to press the call button this time.

He twisted the cord around his finger as he waited to connect. The shift in Zephyr’s demeanor on screen let him know he’d gotten through. They looked defeated, like they were debating even picking this one up. He prayed that they did.

He saw the press of the button and heard the click from the phone a split second later.

“Hello?” They had dropped their regular script, too exhausted and annoyed to even finish it.

“Hi!” The first word out of their mouth was entirely too much energy, but once he heard that call connect, he was acting on pure instinct.

They relaxed, if only a little, obviously relieved to hear any voice other than the previous caller. “Hi?” they repeated, puzzled.

It hit him all at once, and he could only sit in silence for a split second. He was actually talking to them. Live on the air. He acted on such impulse, the only thought in his head was to block that asshole from calling back. He hadn’t thought past this moment.

“I uh… I didn’t really think through what I was gonna say.” Nate laughed nervously as he floundered for the right words. “I guess I just wanted to tell you that I really like your show? I’ve been watching every week for the last couple of months. I don’t know much about all this, but I like hearing you talk about it.”

Zephyr looked skeptical. “Is this some kind of joke?”

“No! No, I mean it!” Nate summoned every ounce of sincerity he could, to try and make Zephyr believe him. “You’re obviously really passionate about it, and I like watching you because of that.”

Yes. Because of their passion for their interests. No other reason. Especially not because he found them unbelievably sexy.

“Oh.” Zephyr’s drawn on eyebrows raised in surprise. “Well, uh. Thanks, I guess.” They struggled to accept the compliment and still maintain that mysterious facade. Nate thought for a second he caught the beginnings of a smile, but it may have been a trick of the cameras.

“You’re welcome.” He glanced at the clock. Just over 10 minutes of airtime left. If that guy wanted to call in again, he would have plenty of time to do it. He had to stay on the line and get them talking about something else.

“So, I do have a question,” he began, thinking back to his stupid record store daydream. “If I just walk into any regular mall record store, what would you recommend looking for if I want to ease my way into listening to stuff like this? Or do I need to look somewhere else for the good stuff?”

“Oh, that’s a good question, actually.” Their eyes lit up again, and they were off. “You can find good stuff there, it’s just gonna be the more mainstream artists. But there’s nothing wrong with that. I’m always gonna recommend The Cure, obviously. And no matter what that prick earlier said, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with their last album, and I feel like it’s pretty accessible. A good gateway, I think.”

He stayed on the phone, asking questions, and they were more than happy to answer them all. The next 10 minutes flew by, and soon he had a list of artists and albums scribbled on the back of an envelope.

Eventually, Zephyr cut themself off from the tangent they had been going on. “Oh shit, I’m almost out of time.”

“That’s ok, thanks for all the suggestions!” He couldn’t hide the smile in his voice, and it threatened to draw a smile out of the stone faced goth on the TV.

“Of course.” They answered, having turned that creeping smile quickly into a smug smirk, to maintain the illusion. “Have a good night.”

“You too!” He hung up the phone and watched as Zephyr went through their regular show wrap up. Only now did he realize how hot his face was. He made his dumb little fantasy come true, if not in the exact way he’d imagined it. And they came out of the horrible first half of their show unscathed. That’s all he could ask for.

“I suppose that about does it then,” they said, fully back in the swing of things. “Thanks for spending some time with me tonight. And remember, there’s beauty in the darkness, if you’re willing to let it in. Goodnight, and I’ll see you next week.”

The screen went black yet again, and Nate switched off the TV. He had to try to sleep. But between the coffee and what just happened, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever get there.

At least he’d have a hell of a story to tell his sister tomorrow.

[hotxcheeto]

❥ 𝐂𝐡𝐥𝐨𝐞

"𝙖𝙨 𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙢𝙮 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙣𝙚𝙧 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚."

❥ 𝗿𝘂𝗹𝗲𝘀 - 𝘀𝗲𝗻𝗱 𝗮 𝗿𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁

❥ 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜

❥ Maybe It's Fate | Fluff- You meet a stranger on the worst day of your life, and maybe she won't kill you while giving you a ride home.

❥ Cuddle Buddies | Fluff- You and Chloe love to just chill, especially after a night of Chloe's drunken Chaos.

❥ Blue Haired Baby | Fluff- Chloe loves to cuddle you while asleep, you need to pee, Chloe does not agree.

❥ Birthday Girl | Fluff + Slight Angst- Your parents have never liked Chloe, too religious while Chloe was... Chloe. Crying on your birthday was not something you wanted, but a certain surprise from your girlfriend just happens to bring your spirits up.

❥ The Souls Among the Stars | Fluff- Walking along the road, you and Chloe talk about everything and nothing at all.

❥ Anger Management | Smut- You and Chloe haven't been getting along, so now you need to settle this another way.

❥ Click, Clack | Smut + Fluff - You need to work, but Chloe has other ideas and she's been waiting all day.

❥ Hair Dye | Fluff - You and Chloe are finally away from Arcadia, but you gotta make sure you stay looking good. Even if you have hair dye all over your face.

❥ I Kissed a Girl | Suggestive - You and Chloe enjoy a bit of karaoke, and what can you say, you've kissed a girl and want to again.

❥ Rainbow | Smut - Chloe wants to try out a new toy on you. And it's got pretty colors, so why not?

❥ Rules Are For Breaking | Fluff - You and Chloe are quite the adventurers at night.

❥ Nice and Easy | Smut + Fluff - It's your first time, and Chloe knows you're nervous so she makes sure to be extra soft. But you're such a good girl she can't help but get a little carried away.

❥ Multicolored Fun | Smut + Fluff - You wanna try out that new rainbow toy on Chloe ( semi part two to RAINBOW )

❥ Soft Massages | Smut + Fluff - Chloe knows you've had a rough week, and once you get back to your dorm she decides to pay you a visit. And make sure you relax, even though she's never given a massage before in her life, is sure has a happy ending.

❥ Night Out | Smut + Fluff - A night out in a new town ends with some fun in your shared hotel room.

❥ A Modern Retelling | Smut + Fluff + Angst - You're part of the vortex club, she's not, you can see where I'm going with this can't you? Just a classic case of Romeo and Juliet.

❥ Ten Out of Ten | Fluff + Smut - Chloe is bored, and apparently starved.

❥ Abstinent | Smut + Fluff - It's been a while and Chloe has definitely noticed.

❥ 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

❥ Relationship with her (HC) | Fluff + NSFW

❥ SFW Alphabet | Fluff

❥ NSFW Alphabet | Smut

❥ Chloe Having a Crush On You (HC) | Fluff

❥ Random BTS Things (HC) | Fluff + Slight Angst

❥ Soft Headcanons | Fluff

❥ BTS Comfort Headcanons | Fluff + Slight Angst

❥ Chloe Taking Care of Drunk Reader | Fluff

❥ Dating Chloe and Being friends with Rachel | Fluff

❥ Late Night With Chloe (BTS) |

❥ BTS Chloe Having a Crush on You | Fluff

❥ Chloe with a Very Sunshiney S/O | Fluff + Very slight Angst

❥ You have powers (feat. Rachel) | Fluff + Slight angst

❥ Chloe dating a vampire | Fluff

❥ Chloe as a mom | fluff + SLIGHT angst

❥ Chloe w/ a werewolf S/O | slight angst + fluff

❥ 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙤𝙣𝙞𝙘

❥ Being Her Bestfriend (HC) | Fluff + Slight Angst

❥ 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐲𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐬

❥ Junkyard | Angst + Fluff - You've learned that you've got a curse, powers no human should have. And when you have to save Rachel in a time of life and death, it tests the girls if they really do love you.

❥ Wait For Her to Catch On | Smut + Fluff - A little fun is okay, especially when one doesn't realize it's happening... at first.