#collection: Miraculous One-Shots
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sorcerystudios-writing · 5 months ago
Text
In a Field of Dandelions
by Nakira Taisho
Date Posted: (2024-05-11)
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Chloé Bourgeois/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Characters: Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Chloé Bourgeois
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - College/University, Romantic Fluff
Series: Part 2 of Miraculous in Marvel, Part 11 of Miraculous One-Shots
Summary: For their anniversary, Chloé and Marinette share flowers in the countryside.
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ssahotchnerr · 1 year ago
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no but imagine pre-relationship aaron with fem!reader who can fall asleep anywhere & in the most uncomfortable positions known to mankind 💀 aaron is both terrified and amazed bcs how do you keep doing that 😧 but then every time he sees you like that he slowly & carefully arranges you in a more comfortable position 🥹🫶🏻 & the team gives him shit for it 💀
(luvie can I be 🪷 anon 🥹🫶🏻)
makeshift
omg stop i love that cw; fem!reader, bau family banter, pining aaron <333
falling asleep in a federal prison, may seem like a hard thing to do. surrounded by the worst of the worst, distant yells from the inmates floating down the hall, the mere location itself. but apparently, not for you.
the facility was currently on lockdown, meaning no one was going in or out, and therefore you were stuck overnight. as a result, the warden offered one of the locker rooms to be strictly the bau's 'break room', so to speak.
after his last, rather unpleasant interview of the evening, aaron was hellbent on a fresh, but not very good, cup of coffee. as he pushed the door open and entered, his focus diverted straight to you.
you were laid across a steel bench - eyes closed, hands clasped over your stomach, absolutely gone to the world. however, if you moved an inch - or probably less - would you completely topple onto the hard floor.
"you're kidding." aaron deadpanned as he looked at you in pure astonishment, coffee long forgotten.
"she's been like that for thirty minutes now." jj commented from where she was leant against one of the sets of lockers, head bent down as she scrolled through her phone. "but are we surprised?"
"nah," derek snorted lightly. "but hey, better than the floor."
"tell me about it." a low grumble came from reid, somewhere.
aaron's face pulled into one of discomfort, his brows drawing into a line above his eyes. the surface you were asleep on, had to be cold, for starters, by nature of the material and the a/c was still kicking in high gear despite the cooler temperature outside. the flat metal had to be highly uncomfortable, no cushion underneath you at all, most likely digging into your shoulder blades. you'd inevitably be waking up to an angry back, which aaron knew from experience - from past events where you miraculously drifted off in questionable positions.
eager to lessen the outcome, aaron shrugged his suit jacket off his shoulders. he balled it up, situating it snug under his arm.
next, he crouched beside you, cradling your head in his hand as he lifted it gently. at the movement, you stirred, a small noise escaping you and aaron froze, waiting for you to settle back down before resuming his actions. part of him feared his current, drumming heart would somehow rouse you more.
but once you had, he slid his jacket underneath your head - a makeshift pillow. it wasn't much, but it would at least alleviate some of the pressure collecting in your neck, and you wouldn't be as sore when you awoke. the next thing he had to figure out, something to lay on the ground, on either side of you, to soften the fall in case you were to-
"that's real cute hotch." derek grinned, grabbing aaron from his thoughts. "when you make up my bed next, can you add one of those pillow chocolates? thanks."
"funny."
aaron stole a glance at you, a calmness brushing over him and the ends of his lips daring to tug upwards into a smile. he couldn't help himself - sure, he wished you weren't fast asleep on a bench that could cause potential harm if you budged, but it didn't hide the fact that you were, well, you.
his hopeful, hidden attempt didn't go unnoticed by one person though, who naturally had to open their big mouth.
"that's nothing compared to that case in montana," aaron shot dave a pointed look to quit it, but only got a wink in return. "hotch practically carried-"
"dave."
"aaron." dave quipped back, an eyebrow quirked high in amusement, but fell silent. although, his witty expression didn't falter, as if he were noting to aaron that it wouldn't be difficult at all to be persuaded to continue.
"whoa whoa there, rossi," morgan straightened his posture, a hand out. "go on."
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chukys-mouthguard · 5 months ago
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I have a request, Could you do where the reader is Luke's twin sister and they are it is there 21st birthday and Jack and Quinn are there to celebrate with them and Luke and the reader both get really drunk and Jack and Quinn take care of the when they are both drunk and hungover
Also love your fic's read them every time you post
seeing double
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Genre: fluff
Featuring: Hughes brothers x Luke’s twin sister reader
Summary: it’s you and your twin brother luke’s 21st birthday and your brother’s Jack and Quinn have the pleasure of taking care of you both
Note: I’ve never written with the reader being a sister before, so this was new to me, but i think this still turned out cute 🫶🏼
“What time is it??”
You shouted over the music as you frantically searched the room for a phone to check yourself.
“Uhhh, 11:55.”
Your eyes wide as you quickly ran to the back door to look for the boys. Finding them all hanging around the fire pit shotgunning beers.
“Luke Warren Hughes! Get your ass in here and take a shot with me at midnight!”
It was yours and your twin brother Luke’s 21st birthday, well almost, and you were a bit more intoxicated than he was. But you were determined to change that, wanting to be sure that your twin brother was actually letting loose for the night. Luke not being much of a partier, he left that to Jack. But your older brothers were doing their best to get Luke to have more than just 2 beers for once.
The boys came in from the fire pit, joining you and your girl friends around the kitchen island as shots were passed around. Once everyone had a shot you noticed the time was now 11:58, hurrying to get out your toast before the clock struck midnight, finally signaling your birthday.
“Life is a waste of time. Time is a waste of life. So why not get wasted all the time, and have the time of our life!”
The group throwing back the shots in unison, followed by a loud roar of happy birthday. You and Luke taking another shot just the two of you as your friends recorded videos for Snapchat, Jack and Quinn both laughing at the two of you knocking back tequila like it was water.
“There’s no way we make it to breakfast with mom and dad tomorrow.”
“Not a fucking chance!”
The group had settled on flip cup and pong as the two games of choice, which was music to your ears knowing Luke was a secret weapon when drunk.
“Uh oh, it’s the Hughes showdown!!”
Quinn and Jack somehow made a miraculous comeback to face you and Luke in the final round of beer pong.
“Luke, we cannot lose to them! We will never live it down!”
Luke nodded his head through hooded eyes, the tequila shots very much hitting him like a ton of bricks. Noticing him swaying back and forth, you’d realized you were most likely carrying the team this round. Chugging some water you did your best to sober up and be sure to beat your brothers and earn bragging rights.
“It all comes down to this Lukey! Your shot, don’t fuck it up!”
Quinn and Jack teased Luke as he could barely see the cup at the opposite end of the table. Your final shot had missed by a mile, and at this point you were in desperate need of your bed. The tequila rightfully kicking your ass after one too many shots.
“Fuck.”
Luke cursed as his ball completely missed the table, bouncing off into the other room as Quinn and Jack hugged in celebration. The bragging rights would surely be held over you and Luke’s heads for months.
“Don’t sweat it Lukey boy, you’ll get a shot at revenge one day.”
Jack tapped him on the shoulder as you threw back another shot, hoping the taste of alcohol would make you forget the embarrassing display you put on in that game of pong.
By 2am, you and Luke collectively had enough alcohol for the entire Michigan Hockey Team and you were feeling it. Both of you dozing off on the couch as the party had come to an end.
“Y/n, y/n! Come on, let’s get you to bed.”
“I am in bed.” You groaned at Quinn, not wanting to move as you were very much comfortable on the couch squished next to Luke.
“Jack, can you take Luke? I’ll deal with y/n?”
Jack nodded as both boys picked the two of you up off the couch, Quinn carrying you while Jack simply threw Luke’s arm over his shoulder.
“Fuck Luke, stand up!”
Quinn laughed as Jack practically fell to the floor as Luke was purely dead weight. “Switch me, clearly your off season workouts aren’t cutting it!”
Jack rolled his eyes as he took you in his arms, letting Quinn take over with Luke.
“Jack, put me down.” The tequila now rearing its head as you grew nauseous from the boys carrying you.
“Y/n I’m taking you to bed, hush.”
Trying your best to fight out of Jack’s grip, you only made yourself more sick. Your hand immediately flying to your mouth, signaling to Jack you needed a toilet or a trash can, and fast.
“Shit, y/n don’t you dare!”
Jack sprinted to the bathroom with you in his arms, trying his best not to make the situation worse. Setting you down, he let you have a minute to hopefully settle your stomach, Jack never being good with puking.
“Do you need anything?”
He stood back as he watched you sitting on the floor, eyes closed as you took deep breaths, trying to calm your stomach.
“No, I think I’m-“
Before you could finish you were cut off by your nausea getting the best of you, Jack trying his best to be there for you despite him wanting to run as far away as possible.
“Jack, hold my hair please?”
“What? How?”
“Just grab my fucking hair like a ponytail and hold it back so I don’t puke on it!”
He cautiously made his way to you, grabbing a hold of your hair, standing as far back as he could, doing his best to distract himself from what was going on.
“Jack! Where are you?”
Hearing Quinn struggling carrying Luke down the hall, Jack called out, revealing your location only for Quinn to appear moments later.
“Fuck, I didn’t know you guys were in here….damnit.”
Quinn stopped to catch his breath as Luke groaned against his shoulder. “Quinn, I’m gonna yak.”
Jack sighed as he looked from Luke to you, wondering how he and Quinn got roped into dealing with you two knuckle heads.
“Look, I get you guys are twins, but really? Going as far as to puke together? Can’t you do anything without the other person?”
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sp0o0kylights · 1 month ago
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No Upside-Down AU
"It's called the Creel House."
Steve groaned. Then groaned again when Dustin produced a binder full of papers, many sticking out at odd angles. He dropped it down on the counter, the thing making an audible "thunk!" 
Robin shot a look over her shoulder from where she stood, restocking the kids cartoon aisle. 
Steve had a feeling he should have volunteered to do it instead. 
"It's Halloween, Steve.” Dustin snarked, rolling his eyes dramatically. “ We're too old to go trick or treating!"
Ah yup, there was that incoming headache, the same one he got whenever Dustin stormed in with a half baked idea. 
At least this one didn’t involve tramping around tunnels and stumbling over a pack of feral dogs. 
"So you jump right from collecting candy to, what, conducting a fricken seance in a haunted house?" Steve retorted, running a hand through his hair. 
A part of him wanted to pull it, but his parents had rid him of that habit long ago. 
Dustin scoffed. "We're not conducting a seance.” He said, like that was the stupidest thing he’d ever heard. “We're gonna do science experiments." 
"On ghosts!” 
“Come on, Steve!” Dustin whined, his voice pitching up in the way it did when he might not get his way. That meant he’d probably already told his poor mother Steve was involved, just like he always did. 
Not that Steve couldn’t completely blame him for doing it. 
Between Will Byers getting abducted, found, thought dead, and miraculously coming back to life in the morgue, the Starcourt Mall Fire (caused by Russian experiments if you believed the rumors but what Steve personally knew to be about fifteen different OHSA violations) and the damn feral pack of rabid dogs, the parents of Hawkin’s found themselves suddenly needing to keep a much closer eye on their children.
Claudia Henderson was no exception. 
(And maybe a part of him liked Claudia. The way she tried so hard to provide for Dustin, making the most she could of his fathers absence.Steve knew they weren’t divorced, but he also never personally met the guy, and well. 
At least Claudia was still there. 
At least she was trying.) 
“Okay. Let’s say I agree to play ghost masters  for a night.” Steve said, mispronouncing Ghostbusters on purpose and enjoying the immediately shrieked correction it got him. 
“Why on earth would anyone be willing to let a bunch of teenagers into their house for the night?”
It still killed him that the kids were technically teenagers. Had been, for a hot minute.
They were even high school freshmen now and wasn’t that a trip?
Soon one of them (Steve had his bets on Max) was going to start pestering him to learn how to drive and the very thought made him want to get on his knees in front of his Beemer to beg forgiveness. 
“I promise we have permission, Steve.” Dustin pleaded, rolling the word promise across his tongue in that whined, over exaggerated way kids forever used against their older siblings.
 “We crossed our i’s and dotted our t’s on this one! It’s just an evening in a house, having fun. That’s it.” 
Steve sighed, running a hand down his face when Dustin busted out the puppy dog eyes.
“If you assholes--” He started, and winced when Dustin immediately let out a victory cry. 
Fists punched the air, Dustin jumping about as he yelled; “Yes! Steve, thank you!” 
“I didn’t say I was going to go yet!” Steve yelled after him as Dustin spun about, shouting that he was going to go tell the Party over his shoulder. 
Robin snickered at him behind the kid, which Steve immediately caught. 
“Don’t laugh too soon Buckley.” He threatened, pointing at her. “You’re coming too.” 
“Oh really?” She shot back, as Dustin flew out of Family Video, making a beeline for his bike. “How do you figure you’re going to get me involved in this one?” 
“Because you owe me for driving you to that bar in Indianapolis.” 
It was a gay bar, one Steve had heard about when one of his father’s shitty secretaries once again forgot to put the phone on hold when “trying” to transfer Steve’s call. 
(She had absolutely nothing nice to say about the bar, which was a solid recommendation in and of itself in Steve's book.) 
Not that he truly needed the ammunition. Robin was his best friend, and they loved each other-- a sappy little number he would gladly pull out if it meant he didn’t have to herd the brat pack around by himself on Halloween. 
Robin sighed dramatically, staring at the ceiling. 
“Fuck you Steve, fine.” She huffed, giving in.
“You would never.” He taunted, and then did his own stupid little mimicry of Dustin’s victory dance, just to make her laugh. 
Smiled wide when it worked. 
At least if things went sideways again, she'd be right by his side.
xXx 
“I don't recall the Creel House being a giant mansion on top of a hill.” 
Steve said it accusingly, standing at the meeting spot on Halloween, kids in costumes floating about them as they clogged up the sidewalk. 
Nancy Wheeler pursed her lips, arms crossing tightly across her chest. 
(Steve had no idea how they’d gotten her to come and frankly, hadn’t asked.) 
"It's not." She agreed.
Her eyes narrowed, zeroing in on her brother with a look that younger siblings the world over knew by heart. "And that is absolutely not the Creel House." 
"We mixed up the names, so what?” Mike waived a hand, as if by doing so he could flick away his sister’s irritation. “It's a haunted house we have permission to hang out in, on Halloween." 
“If it’s not the Creel house then how exactly do we know it’s haunted?” Jonathan muttered, hands clutching his camera. 
(Steve did know how he got involved, if Nancy was here.
Not that he mentioned that either.) 
Steve nodded in agreement, putting his hands on his hips as the kids grouped before them. 
"How exactly, did you get permission for us to stay the night again?" Robin huffed, staring up at a place that looked like it came straight out of one of Munson’s horror movies. 
“I dunno, Eddie got it.” Lucas said with a shrug, and got a collective groan from the older teens for his efforts. 
“I’m not getting arrested again.” Robin said, spinning on her heel to face Steve, eyes wide.
 “I know you guys get arrested by the Chief of Police like, every other day, but some of us do actually want to get into college and frankly, the whole experience sucked.”
“Only Steve and Jonathan have been arrested.” Nancy corrected, face now thoroughly pinched in annoyance. 
“The rest of us were just detained. That said,” She added quickly, as Mike and Dustin both went to speak at once, “Robin’s right. We learned our lesson from Starcourt, didn’t we? We are not breaking into places we are not meant to be.” 
She sounded like she was quoting something.
Knowing Nancy, she probably was. 
“Eddie has definitely been arrested.” Robin protested. 
Nancy, forever stuck on a technicality, shot her a look. “Not in the incident I know you’re referencing.”
“Yeah, ‘cause he ran.” Lucas grumbled. 
“There is no shame in running boys and girls.” The man himself said loudly, leaping out of the bushes to land right in the middle of their little huddle. “Especially from the law.” 
“Eddie!” the kids shrieked as one, their annoyance at his prior abandonment immediately replaced by all his little Hellfire Club minions trying to tackle him. 
Max and El shared a private look, the only two of the children to not swamp the metalhead, and collapsed into shared giggles. 
Freshmen. Steve thought with a groan, as Eddie dramatically fell down, playing out a very overacted death scene. God help us all. 
“Harrington, call off your brats!” Eddie howled, the tail end interrupted by a cackle of laughter as Mike and Dustin tickled him. 
“We talked about this Munson.” Steve yelled back. “When you rile them up, they’re your kids, not mine, and you get to deal with them.”  
“Damn. Down my minions, down!” Eddie tried, and got tickled harder for his efforts. 
They all wrestled for a bit more before the boys relented, Mike and Dustin red in the face with laughter while Lucas, their own budding basketball star and thus the only one to even think of exercising, helped up a panting Will. 
“Eddie, not that I trust you, because we both know I don’t,” Robin started, as Eddie jumped to his feet. “But how exactly do we have permission to be in that house?”
“I’m wounded Buckley, truly.” Eddie said, a hand going to cover his heart. He staggered backwards, head shaking as though injured. “Here I thought you were one of my best friends.”
Nancy sighed loudly, rolling both her eyes and her head back while Jonathan hid a smile behind his camera. 
“You are one of my best friends you asshole,” Robin fired back. “Which is exactly why I don’t trust you! I know you too well!” 
Eddie laughed at that. “Fair.” He reached into his pocket, bringing out  a set of keys. “I’m house-sitting the place for the weekend.” 
“Someone trusted you to watch a house like that?” Nancy said slowly, before being nudged hard by Robin. 
She winced. “I mean-”
“I know what you mean, Wheeler.” Eddie said, taking the comment in stride. “It belongs to one of the executives at the plant my uncle works at. Their first house sitter dropped out last minute and they needed someone to watch their dog.”
Here, Eddie made a face. “He has one of those crusty white things that gets seizures or some shit, the guy said his wife wouldn’t go anywhere unless she knew the dog was okay.” 
“So you're allowed to be in there then.” Nancy said tartly. “I am sure they wouldn’t appreciate-”
“You are underestimating how last minute this was.” Eddie cut her off with a twirl, keys swinging out so that they flashed dramatically. “He said, and I quote,” 
The metalhead’s voice abruptly adopted an accent that sounded like a trucker and an English  butler had a weird, upper class baby. 
“I don’t care what you do in this house tonight, Munson, as long as you don’t break anything, kill anybody, and clean it up after yourself. And for fucks sake, keep the damn dog alive.” 
Taken aback, all Nancy could do was blink. 
“This dude sounds awesome.” Dustin said, impressed. The other boys murmured their agreement, once again slowly swarming Eddie. 
Like puppies, they were.
Overexcited, hormone ridden, accident prone, trouble finding puppies. 
“Pretty sure the guy was implying I could throw a party, so forgive me if I think inviting a bunch of children, their siblings, a bank geek and their overprotective mother” that was aimed at Steve, “over for a night of trying to communicate with the deceased isn't going to be a problem.”
“Like you would throw a party anyways.” Steve snorted, the sound ugly. 
“Wow, is this gang up on Eddie night? I could damn well throw a better party than you, Steve Harrington.” Eddie raised his eyebrows, taunting. 
King Steve was of course, a boy long left in the past, but a part of him, that competitive part who was very good at keg stands, rose to the challenge. 
“Is that so?” He said, standing up from his “mother hen slouch” as Eddie himself called it, to his full height. He took a step forward, made sure it radiated some of that past swagger he’d been so known for. “I’ll take that bet.” 
“Can you guys have a pissing match later?” Robin asked, ignoring the way Nancy winced at her choice of words. 
“Yeah!” Mike shouted, abruptly snatching the keys from Eddie’s waving hand and ignoring the shorter teen’s outraged “Hey!” 
“Come on, let’s go already!” He huffed, racing off. 
“Why did that asshole have to grow so tall?” Eddie complained, as the younger teens flew past him. Even Max and El took off, though they at least paused to shrug at Steve with twin smiles before they ran past. 
“I seriously hope this really is ok Eddie.” Robin said, worrying her lip anxiously as the older teens started the climb up to the front door, a trek that somehow took two different sets of steep stairs. “I meant it about getting arrested.”
“Chill Robs.” The metalhead assured her, knocking his shoulder into hers as he and Steve flanked her sides, Jonathan and Nancy trailing behind. 
“El’s here, so it’s not like good ol’ Chief Hopper doesn’t know what we’re doing.” 
“He knew what we were doing last time.” 
“No, he knew whatever lie Mike told him so he could sneak El around. That’s why the kid’s on his shit list.” Eddie corrected.
Robin sighed, defeated. “God you can be just as annoying as Nance, you know that?”
“Excuse me?” Nancy said, from behind, eyes popping wide and startelement. 
Jonathan hid his chuckle into a cough when she shot him a furious glance but Steve, now two years past being her ex, had no issues letting her see his amusement. 
“Sorry Nancy, but she’s not wrong.” He called teasingly. “You gotta get that need to correct people under control.” 
Then bolted past his friends as Nancy spat out his full name like a curse, offended, before quickening her pace to catch him. 
Laughing, Eddie and Robin took up the chase, leaving Jonathan to shake his head. 
“I am not running with this camera!” He yelled at them, cradling his baby and following at a far more sedate pace. 
“Your fault if we lock you out!” Steve called back, but the threat was empty. 
He and Jonathan had fixed their shit, those same two years ago. They were good now, even close, sometimes.
Not as close as he was to Eddie and Robin, but close enough to hang out with the kids on Halloween and enjoy it.  
‘A family.’ Eddie had called it, while he and Steve recovered in the hospital not even six full months ago, from a shenanigan neither of them talked about in front of Robin for fear she’d put them right back in the ER. 
‘We found ourselves a proper family. Good for holidays and everything.’ 
He’d had a stupid little grin on his face when he’d said it. 
‘How about next time we don’t almost die finding one.’ Steve had countered, and  then grinned smugly when Eddie’s protest just ended up making his injuries hurt. 
“You’re both dumb.” Jonathan had said at the time, their sole witness and ride out of there, soft smile he almost never let out on his face. 
“Screw you Byers, you were in California for this one!” Steve complained, and well, it had devolved into silly, amusing arguments from there but the point was still the same.
A family they were, the whole lot of them. 
xXx 
“Oh my god this place is huge.” Robin muttered, spinning about in the entryway. 
“That’s capitalism for ya, baby.” 
“We should split up, that way we can find the perfect room.” Dustin announced, shuffling his bulging backpack up as it once again tried to drag him to the floor. 
“You weren’t serious about the ghost stuff, were you?” Steve groaned.
He didn’t know why he did--Dustin never joked about this kind of shit. 
“We have an opportunity, Steven. I’m not wasting it!” 
“Fine then. Go run around like a lunatic and find me when you found your stupid perfect room.” 
“Weren’t you the one bitching about splitting up last time?” Eddie teased, playfully poking at Dustin’s back and trying to get him off balance. 
“Yeah, in an actual situation.” Steve countered, as the kids paired off, Lucas and Mike losing their preferred partners to each other, the girls not looking sorry for it. “Not playing pretend.” 
“Is that what we’re doing? Playing pretend?” Eddie moved his head so that for the briefest of seconds, his nose ghosted right past Steve’s cheek. 
Steve, more than used to Eddie having no personal space, didn’t even flinch. 
“With the whole summoning ghosts bit? Absolutely.” He clarified with his own secretive smile.  
Because Munson often spoke in riddles, had dual meanings to every word-and for once Steve had started to catch on.
Had even started to play around back. 
It may have taken him a hot minute to do so, but sitting on the knowledge that there was a chance Eddie Munson was actually, seriously, intentionally flirting with him had made the world rearrange itself a bit. 
Steve honestly wasn’t certain he was comfortable with what it meant in regards to himself--but he knew he found Eddie hot. 
More than that--they were like two halves of something, working and bouncing off each other in a way only those who were very close could. 
(“Two halves of a whole idiot.” Robin had said when Steve had first broached the topic.
Steve had licked a finger and stuck it in her ear in retaliation.) 
The guy part, Steve found once he’d thought on it, didn’t bother him as much as it once would have. What made him hesitate wasn’t that, or even how quickly his discovery had led to him having fucking wet dreams of Eddie Munson.
No, it was everything else.
Namely, the dad he’d already disappointed, but also all the other crap that came with living in a small town, and being relied upon by a lot of parents as their kids' de facto elder sibling. 
If Steve came out, openly came out…
People had been shitty enough to Eddie, in high school. Steve had even been one of those shitty people. He knew how they thought, what they could and would do. 
Egging, graffiti, getting your ass kicked in an allyway, and barred from establishments was all just the start of it, for someone who hadn’t even admitted to being gay. 
He’d about convinced himself to ignore it. He liked girls anyway, was one of the lucky ones, as Robin loved to put it, whose brain and general being didn’t care too much about his partner’s gender. 
“It at least gives you a shot to fall in love with the person you’re “supposed” to.” She’d said, drunk off her ass and wobbly as she made air quotes with her hands. 
Steve couldn’t blame her for it. Not now, when he finally understood the consequences of dating that other person. 
The one you weren’t supposed to. 
Then came that damn bar in Indianapolis. The bartender with the earring who’d shot him an appreciative glance and Steve hadn’t even had to think about it-he’d just, winked. 
Ended up with a free drink.
Made out a little at the back of the bar on the guy’s break and sure, it hadn’t gone farther than that but it was enough.
 To know.
To want. 
How Robin hadn’t caught him on that one was a miracle, but he didn’t want to ruin things. A part of him knew she was graduating soon-her, Nancy, Jonathan and Eddie, if they could finally drag him through Mrs. Click’s class. 
 They could all move, if they wanted to, after that.  
He was happy to follow them wherever they wanted to go, and knew the first three were trying to get into the same colleges. He also knew he wouldn’t have problems dragging Eddie along for the ride. 
If anything the guy was itching to get out faster than any of them. 
Laughter suddenly rang down the halls, interrupting him from his too loud thoughts. 
Steve smiled at it, knowing he damn well couldn’t abandon the kids. 
“You alright?” Jonathan asked, his voice too quiet as always, having come up on Steve’s left side. 
The guy just didn’t relax anymore unless he was high. 
Steve made a mental note to ask Eddie if he’d brought anything after the kids had managed to go to sleep-or at the very least, tire themselves out enough to be corralled in one room. Then the adults could go have their fun. 
Something he knew Jonathan desperately needed. 
“Yeah, just thinking.” Steve said back. 
“I didn’t know you could do that.” Jonathan responded, then cracked a smile when Steve playfully threw his shoulder at him. 
“Earth to Harrington!” Eddie called, and Steve blinked, because the guy had suddenly teleported from right near him to across the sprawling entryway entirely. “If you and Johnny Boy are done talking, I say we to go explore the basement. Together.” 
Eddie clapped his hands, to emphasize the last word. 
Jonathan shook his head, but Steve just sent his friend a conspiratorial wink, before putting on the most harassed sitcom-husband voice he could, yelling back “Coming, honey!” 
Eddie, who had started to turn, almost tripped at the words, long legs tangling together and getting an honest to god laugh out of Jonathan. 
Steve snickered right along with him, before trotting over to save his idiot friend from himself. 
“Come on Munson, let’s go be the stupid people who die first in all the horror movies.” He said, opening the door and trotting down the rickety, wooden steps. 
A pressure at his back, Munson crowding him as he followed. 
“If we wanna be the people who die first, then we have to sneak away to have sex.” Eddie murmured, hair ticking the back of Steve’s neck.
Steve grinned as the sound of the basement door swinging shut followed. 
The sudden silence and lack of light was just the courage he needed to blurt out, “Well if that’s on the table, then I’d absolutely rather die like that.” 
The breath Eddie sucked in was a high he could ride for days, Steve decided, as he carefully made it to the bottom of the stairs. went about feeling for the lights.
Being flirted with by Eddie was one thing but flirting back?
Steve had never been on a better power trip.
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sweeter-innocence-fics · 4 months ago
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Hangover (Pietro Maximoff First Kiss Drabble)
Word Count: 1592
Notes: Slight college AU.
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Your head was pounding. The curtains weren’t thick enough to keep out the morning light. You shielded your eyes, trying to make sense of your surroundings.
This was not your bed. Still, the sheets smelt strangely familiar. You sat up, and a wave of nausea almost pushed you back down. You fought it, swinging your legs over the side of the bed and sitting upright.
There was a sealed bottle of water on the nightstand. A blister pack of aspirin. You cracked open the water bottle and drank it down greedily, and then threw back two of the pills.
To your relief, as hangovers went, this wasn’t one of the worst ones. You were sweaty and your head hurt, but aside from the initial rush of nausea, you didn’t think you were going to throw up.
You still didn’t recognise where you were. Your phone was on the nightstand too, plugged into a charger that wasn’t yours. You were pleased to see that it was at 100% battery. That was one less thing to worry about.
Bracing yourself, you pulled back the curtains. Light flooded in, and you covered your eyes with your forearm, pain flaring in your brain. Your lashes were stuck together with sleep, and your breath tasted foul.
Finishing off the last of the water in the bottle, you let your eyes adjust to the new brightness in the room. It wasn’t so bad now that your throat no longer felt so dry.
You took an inventory of yourself. Your phone was accounted for. After a quick search, you found the small bag you’d taken out last night, and in it were your wallet and keys.
Aside from your headache, you were physically okay. You were still dressed in the jeans and nice top you’d worn out, although the jeans were unbuttoned. There were no injuries that you could feel, which was honestly miraculous, because you were very clumsy when you were drunk.
You were even still wearing your bra. The underwire was digging into your ribcage uncomfortably. You must’ve been pretty drunk to not feel the discomfort last night.
Your shoes were beside the bed, socks stuffed inside them. Standing up, you shoved all of your possessions back into your bag and then picked up your shoes.
The bedroom was small, with a double bed pushed into the corner under the window, a desk, and a chest of drawers. There was no other furniture.
In the opposite corner, there was a barbell, weights stacked into a haphazard pile. The desk was a little messy, and there was a stack of clothes on the desk chair. On the shelf above the desk were a handful of sports trophies. The room looked as though it had been tidied very hurriedly.
As you reached the door, your heart stuttered. Pinned up next the door were a collection of photographs. There were a few of people that you didn’t recognise, and some of people that you did. Nat, Clint, Bruce. Group shots of people partying and having fun. You were even in a few of them.
But the person in by far the most pictures was Wanda Maximoff. You had a few classes with her, so you had become fast friends at the beginning of the year. There were photobooth photos of her with her twin brother, Pietro, as well as pictures from childhood. There were pictures of the two of them with people you could only assume were their parents.
It was suddenly very clear to you that you were in Pietro’s room. The photos, the exercise equipment, the trophies; it all made sense.
You felt your stomach churning, and for a moment you thought you might actually throw up. Had you humiliated yourself in front of Pietro last night? Had he taken you home, put you to sleep in his bed? Your chest hurt.
You’d been out at the club last night, celebrating the end of exams. Wanda and Pietro had both been there, as had a few of your other friends. Pietro always made you nervous, with his handsome face and his flirtatious attitude. He never seemed to take anything seriously.
You had drank in the hopes that you would feel less nervous around him. Evidently you had overdone it.
You opened the bedroom door and stepped out into the hall. Now you recognised your surroundings. You’d never been in Pietro’s bedroom before but you had been in his and Wanda’s apartment.
Thankfully, the bathroom was just across the hall. You darted into and locked the door behind you, breathing hard. If you were going to face Pietro, you needed to look presentable.
After using the toilet, you took stock of yourself in the mirror. Your make-up was smeared and you were looking worse for wear.
You stole some toothpaste and brushed your teeth with a finger. You also took some mouthwash, rinsing until the rancid taste was gone from your mouth.
Next you moved on to washing your face. There were some make-up removal wipes – Wanda’s, you assumed – which you used to try to remove your eye make-up.
You weren’t able to get it all off, but the effect made your lashes a little darker, traces of mascara clinging to them. It looked fine, so you splashed some water on your armpits and tried to make your hair look vaguely presentable.
When you were done, you stole a couple of sprays of deodorant. You could tell from the smell that it was Pietro’s. It was the same scent that engulfed you every time he hugged you, leaving you a little breathless. You hoped that he wouldn’t mind you using it.
Finally, you were as put-together as you were going to look without actually taking a shower – you might’ve been stealing toiletries but you drew the line at using someone else’s shower without asking – so you begrudgingly left the safety of the bathroom.
Down the hall, you found the open-plan kitchen-living room. A pair of socked feet were resting over the arm of the couch. You could hear quiet, steady breathing. Someone was sleeping on the couch.
As quietly as you could, you made your way to the front door. Your hand was on the handle when a sleepy voice interrupted you.
“Where are you going?” It was Pietro.
You turned to face him guiltily. He was lying on the couch, pushing himself up onto his elbow. His eyes were bleary. He looked very cute.
“Home,” you said. “Sorry for kicking you out of your bed. You didn’t have to sleep on the couch.”
“I wasn’t going to make you sleep on the couch,” he said, sitting up. “You don’t have to leave right now. It’s still early. I was gonna make breakfast.”
“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” you said, although the thought of breakfast had certainly piqued your interest. Perhaps you could grab a sandwich on the way home.
“I know I don’t have to,” he said, sounding a little annoyed. “I’m not being nice because I have to. I’m doing it because I want to.” He got to his feet. His sweatpants hung low on his hips, and you had to stop your eyes from tracing the line of his hipbones. “Come on. What do you want to eat? Eggs? Toast? Cereal? Pancakes?”
“I like pancakes,” you said, a little shy.
“I’m making you pancakes, then.”
You followed him to the kitchenette, feeling embarrassed, but also grateful. As he started to mix up the pancake batter, you said, “Thank you for looking after me last night. I must’ve been a mess.”
“It was nothing,” he grunted. “What kind of man would I be if I left you alone like that? I had to make sure you were safe.”
“Thank you…” And then, because you were feeling bolder than usual – perhaps you were still a little drunk? – you said, “It was your fault I was so drunk, anyway.”
He cocked an eyebrow at you. “Is that right?”
“Talking to you makes me nervous. I wanted to be brave.”
He set down his whisk and turned to face you. “That’s funny. I was feeling the same way. I was thinking about kissing you last night but then you were too shitfaced.”
“I’m not shitfaced now.”
“That’s true.”
He closed the distance between you and cupped your face in one hand. You could feel the strength of his hand holding you in place, and a shiver went down your spine.
“Do you still wanna kiss me? Or did I ruin it last night?” you asked.
He chuckled. “You’re an idiot if you think that there’s anything you could do to make me not want to kiss you.”
“Then what are you waiting for?”
His lips were a little dry when they touched yours. His free hand fell to your waist, and he turned his head to kiss you deeper. You tried to slide your tongue into his mouth but he stopped you.
“I haven’t brushed my teeth,” he said, and you let out a groan of frustration.
“I don’t care,” you said, touching his cheek. His stubble was rough against your skin.
He kissed you again. You held onto him, sliding your hand into his messy curls.
“The pancakes can wait,” you murmured. “Maybe we should go back to bed for a little while? I do feel awfully bad about turfing you out of your own bed.”
“I’m sure you’ll find a way to make it up to me,” he said, smiling against your lips.
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quartzedreid · 7 months ago
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Stress Relief
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Summary: Reid was on a long case, and the both of you had an horribly stressful day, Reid comes home to something he hadn’t expected..
Warnings: Smut 18+!! Minors DNI!!!!! Dom!Reid, Munch!Reid, oral (f & m receiving), fingering, overstimulation.
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12:30 a.m.
Exhaustion, that's the word to describe the day you've been having. You're wide awake for more than one reason, one of them being the lack of your boyfriend who still hasn't arrived home, the other being your already awful day. All you wanted, all you needed was your boyfriend, your boyfriend who has been on a case for the past three days, a normal amount of time for their longer cases, but it's always too long without him.
His touch. One of the things you've needed from him the past three days, and he hadn't been able to give it to you. You ached, ached for him, everything about him. Not just his touch, no… that's too broad. You miss the way his fingers delve so perfectly into the curves of your body, how firm, yet gentle his grip on you.
His smell. The thing that makes you melt into him with such ease. He smells like Coffee, Cinnamon, and a long day's work. You devour that scent the minute it hits your nostrils, he smells like heaven, like safety, he smells like love. Home, he smells like home.
His way with his words. He knows how to use them to his advantage. Not in a cruel, sadistic manner, no… in a way that makes your heart swoon. He knows what he does to you, oh, how he knows. With each word that falls from his tounge, the more you need him, the more he pulls you right in. You simply cannot get enough of your boyfriend.
You're Addicted, to say the least.
He hasn't been home in three and a half days, his side of the bed has been empty. You've been empty, in more ways than one. You've been on edge the past three days, and you hadn't known why. He's been gone this long before, you two have been together for two years, you've delt with the loss of him before, you sure have. This time… it's different.
You're sexually frustrated, you simply cannot get him off your mind. The only thoughts filling your exhausted, tired mind are thoughts of your boyfriend absolutely destroying you from the inside out. You can't help it, it's too natural a feeling to stop. The two of yous dynamic has changed recently, not in a bad way, just… you aren't used to being without sex for three days, if that tells you anything.
You have no idea when he's going to be home, and you simply cannot wait for him much longer, you're already soaked just thinking about him, about him in you, about him praising you in your ear. He's got you addicted and he's not even home, he's miles away. Next thing you know your fingers snake their way into your pajama pants, and into your panties.
Shit, you needed this. Being without him is already punishment enough, let alone not being able to wind down like this. Your fingers collect your slick, moving it around. They make their way to your clit, as you circle it slowly. Your head throws itself back, whimpering your boyfriends name.
Your eyes lock shot, as you start moving your middle finger in, and out of yourself. As you speed up the pace, you add another one, stretching yourself out, imaging their your boyfriends long, miraculous fingers. “Spencer,” you moan out, unable to control your sounds. You don't seem to register that your boyfriend had made it home, and into the house.
He's now standing in the doorframe, watching you closely, and you don't even have a singular clue he's there, until he clears his throat, breaking you out of your haze.
You flush, removing your fingers from yourself, and facing away from him as he stood there still, not moving an inch. “I wasn't… interrupting something, was I?” he said, smirk prominent in his tone. You shook your head, too caught off guard to even speak, too embarrassed, too upset with yourself to even begin explaining yourself, at least not tonight.
“No?” he chuckled, “I’m fairly certain I was,” you whine, unable to form even a single word to say back to him. He made his way to the side of the bed in which you were lying. He took your chin in his hand and lifted it up at him, making you look at him. “I texted you twenty minutes ago that I was coming home, no answer. I figured that was strange since you usually respond in a timely manner. Now, now I see why.”
All you did was nod, not a single word even trying to come to mind. “Missed you…” you let out in a whine, looking back down once his grip on your chin has loosened. He chuckled, “Yeah? Missed me so much you had to touch yourself… couldn't wait three days for me?” you shook your head.
You looked up at him, “Needed you,” you pouted “Need you.” he smiled down at you, his hand leaving your chin, and to your head, rubbing your scalp with his thumb. “Bad day?” he asked, “Mhm, really, really bad…” he nodded “Mine too, princess.” your head tilted to the side, confused. “It was awfully stressful.” he said, responding to your gesture of confusion.
“Can I help?” you asked, wanting to help your boyfriend however you could. He nodded, “On your knees please, princess.” you fulfilled his ask in a heartbeat, your hands going straight to his belt, unbuckling it as fast as you possibly could. Once it was undone, so only after came his pants, until he was left in his boxers.
He was more than hard, he was more than prominent. He was throbbing. Pre-cum leaking through his black boxers, his dick was practically begging to be in your mouth. You slowly, slowly pulled them down, teasing him. Once they were off his dick was in your hands, pumping his dick slowly, as you watched his face contort you couldn't help but squeeze your thighs together.
You could tell he was getting impatient for you, he needed your mouth wrapped around him just as much as you needing him hitting the back of your throat. You started to lick his tip, still teasing him. You wanted to take this slow, you were without him for three whole days. “Fuck, baby…” he said, grabbing a handfull of your hair, forcing himself down your throat inch by inch. You moaned around his dick, unable to hold yourself back.
Once you’d taken him into your mouth fully, you began bobbing your head back and forth slowly, feeling him hit the back of your throat over, and over. His low groans were music to your ears, they were words enough that you were doing good. He abrubtly stopped your movements by pulling himself out of your mouth.
Pre-cum was in the corners of your mouth, your mouth was agape, slobber leaving it due to the amount you'd produced just then. You looked up at him through glassy, puppy-dog eyes as you pouted. He groaned, “Fuck, princess… stop looking at me like that.” you whined “Stand up, c’mon. You know how much I'd love to cum in your mouth right now, but you need to be taken care of, too.”
Your legs almost went completely weak, he really, really has a way with words when he's with you like this. When you had first met him you would’ve never thought a man so proper, so intelligent, could speak with such lust such as he does.
You stumbled getting back up, his hands met your waist as he laid you back down on your shared bed, getting on top of you. His lips immediately met yours with a passion so unmatched, unlike he ever had before. He peppered kisses from your lips, to your cheek, down to your jawline, and down your neck, meeting your collarbone, his hands lie at your waist, lifting your shirt up slowly.
You bucked your hips, and raised your hands, allowing him to remove your shirt. You weren't wearing a bra, making this so, so much easier for him. One finger met your nipple, pinching it softly, while his mouth latched onto your other nipple, sucking it with such skill, and with such ease.
Your hips still bucked, your head thrown back into your pillow, eyes shut tight, feeling every single movement he made on your body. You felt every breath he took, “You’re gorgeous, baby…” he praised you softly, now peppering kisses down your stomach. “I missed you, missed you so much while I was gone, you know I missed you… didn't you?”
You whimper in response, unable to form words. His kisses stopped once he had made it to the waistband of your pajama pants, you bucked your hips at response, practically begging for him to take them off. Any other day he'd be mean, he'd make you beg for him to take them off, but he'd had too long a day, and he'd missed you too much to be so cruel.
His fingers dipped into the waistband, and moved them down you slowly, removing them so slow it felt like torture. Once they were off, he made his way to your more than soaked through panties, smirking to himself. You were a mess. You were his mess, and he was proud.
He removed your panties quick and easy, as he then spread your legs for you, exposing yourself to him. Your dripping cunt was begging for his touch, and that's just what he did. His mouth met your pussy the fasted it ever had. His tounge gathering up your slick, bringing it to your clit, which he teased with his tounge.
He licked and sucked with such mercy it was unrecognizable. Your hands moved down to his hair, forcing his mouth deeper into your pussy. His tounge moving in and out of you with such delicacy. Your legs shook around his head, your thighs squeezing the sides of his head, while your fingers dug into his long, curly hair, begging him for even more. He went back to sucking your clit, and brought his fingers to your entrance, entering his pointer and middle fingers into you, slowly moving them in and out.
You couldn't take this much longer, you were close, so, so close “I- I’m… close,” you gasped, breath uneven. He’d gone faster, his mouth leaving you, he looked up at you through hooded eyes, “Princess, let go for me… you got this. It's okay, let go, let me feel you cum on my fingers…” he practically begged you.
His thumb moved to your clit, rubbing it in fast, tight circles, smirking at you, eyes shut, gripping the sheets, whimpering his name. It didn't take long before you came on his fingers, it was just mere seconds later.
“There we go… that's it, princess. Good girl.” he praised, still pumping his fingers in and out of you, your legs shaking like crazy, your head thrown back even further, tears forming in the corner of your eyes. “Spence- Spencer… I- too much... can’t take it.” he smirked, “Yes you can, baby… I know you can. Look at you, taking my fingers so well.”
You were already close again, you felt the familiar knot return in your stomach. “Close-” he went even faster, “I know, my baby. C'mon, I wanna feel you cum around my fingers again, you've got this, sweetheart.” his words sending you over the edge yet again, you came. You tried to open your eyes, yet your vision was so fuzzy, you couldn't even make out much of anything.
He then removed his fingers from your now dripping cunt, putting them directly into his mouth, sucking them clean, knowing you were watching him. You whined at the sight, already feeling yourself needing him again.
You were so tired. He wore you out. You hadn't been worn out from just his fingers like that before, new record for him, I guess. Might not wanna tell him, though. Don't wanna let it get to his big, pretty brain.
He moved up to kiss you, it was soft, it was loving. It was like home. There he was. You smelt him, he smelt just like home, like love, and his mouth spoke to you in haikus, a poem with every kiss to your lips. This is what you missed, yes, you missed him destroying you, but what you missed even more was the feeling of him just being there, the feeling of comfort, safety, reassurance, the feeling of home.
“Hey, princess…” you hummed in response, “lets get you picked up so you can get some rest, alright?” you nodded. He chuckled, smiling “Good,” he said, picking you up and bringing you to the bathroom.
He sat you down on the toilet, getting a warm washcloth to wipe you off. He peppered kisses on your cheeks as he did, “I missed you like hell..” he said, still cleaning you up.
Once he had cleaned you up, and put a new set of pajamas on you, so you could sleep, he lied down next to you, pulling you in by your waist. “I love you.” he said, massaging your scalp, you giggled sleepily, nodding off to sleep “I- love you too.” he chuckled to himself, pulling you closer, “Goodnight, princess.”
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girlactionfigure · 5 months ago
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Ona Simaite was a Lithuanian librarian who saved Jews including many children during the German occupation, and preserved literary works from the Vilna ghetto before being arrested by the Gestapo.
Born in Akmene, Lithuania in 1894, Ona was educated in Moscow and began working at the library at Vilnius university in 1940. A book lover and intellectual, Ona was excited to be working at the oldest university in northern Europe, in a city teeming with culture. However everything changed in 1941, when the Nazis invaded Lithuania. Immediately they created a squalid ghetto and imprisoned the city’s large Jewish population. Ona was shocked and horrified when her Jewish students and colleagues suddenly disappeared. 
Without a moment of doubt, she began visiting the ghetto frequently, under the pretext of collecting library books. She was shocked at what she saw there. It was hell on earth. Residents were barely alive, many of them starving to death, while others were shot in the streets, or beaten brutally and then sent to concentration camps. Ona spent the rest of the war helping Lithuanian Jews in multiple ways. In her visits to the ghetto, she smuggled food, medicine, supplies, and small firearms. After each visit, she left with documents: letters from ghetto residents to their loved ones, literary journals describing life in the ghetto, and various other important papers.
Ona helped Jews who managed to escape or avoid the ghetto by sheltering them in her own humble apartment, and when she ran out of room she found other hiding places for them. She procured fake documents enabling them to hide their Jewish identity. Saving Jews from the Nazis became the focus of her entire life. With superhuman strength and courage, she smuggled small children out of the ghetto in her big book sack, and found homes for them with people who would keep them hidden and safe. It is unknown exactly how many this mild-mannered librarian saved, because she spoke to no one about her heroic acts. 
In 1944, Ona was arrested by officers of the Gestapo, the notorious German secret police. She was brutally tortured by the sadistic Nazis, and sentenced to death. Miraculously, right before her scheduled execution, the president of Vinius University found out about it and paid a large ransom for her life. The Nazis agreed not to kill her, but they refused to free her, and instead sent to the Dachau concentration camp, and later an internment camp in France. Ona was finally freed when the Allies liberated France in 1945. 
After the war, Ona remained in Paris, living a quiet life as a librarian, in a home full of books. She was honored as Righteous Among the Nations by Israeli Holocaust Memorial Yad Vashem in 1966, and a tree was planted in her honor. Ona died in 1970, leaving behind a trove of her own writing: letters, journals, articles, and diaries. Many of them were published in the book “Epistophilia: Writing the Life of Ona Simaite.” In 2015, Simaite Street in Vilna was named after her.
For saving an unknown number of Jews, in a multitude of ways, over four years, we honor Ona Simaite as this week’s Thursday Hero. 
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ruanais · 10 months ago
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。。。 FOUR, NINE, THIRTEEN 。。。
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• — { omnipresent. chapter one: }
• — {warnings : mentions of suicide, dark content, no nsfw but things that could be triggering, dazai :P , bad writing, reader curses a lot, maybe some typos, etc. etc.}
• — {special thanks to : silver for helping me write + plan the plot, thank u to red and kat for taking their time to beta read, and thank u to mai for also helping with the plot ! }
• — { tagging the people who expressed interest ! @settingssun | @silverbladexyz @cheriiyaya | @kxttqi | @riiwrites + comment under this post to be tagged ! }
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THE FIRST TIME Dazai Osamu met you, it was midnight. he was just walking to a bar and you were on the edge of a bridge railing, dressed in a school uniform. probably from a prestigious high school and not more than 15, he guessed when he took a better look at you. 
it was raining a storm, Rain had soaked through your clothes, and your hair was drenched. Paired with the harsh wind, you must be freezing. 
You were looking down at the river, a rather far away look in your eyes as you were seemingly in a dilemma, weighing two choices and- 
oh. 
dazai had already got the gist of what you were about to do, yet made no motion whatsoever. still and silent as a shadow, even when you took in a sharp breath and stepped off, falling down to the river’s current
a splash and you were gone forever, leaving him alone on the bridge.
now he was blankly staring at where you were mere seconds ago. not caring to even move. rooted at where he was. but several questions ran through his mind at that moment.
did you notice him staring? 
it wasn’t any use thinking about it so he let it go. 
the second time he encountered you, he had heard a series of gunshots then quickly headed to there. you were already dead. shot by someone he couldn’t catch.
Obviously, he was surprised to see your face but quickly collected himself, called the police, and left. finding it suspicious but quickly brushing it off his mind as he had more urgent and important matters to take care of than the measly death of someone he didn’t know. 
the third time he saw you, you were crossing the street. a calico cat in your arms as you talked to it, petting its fur and a warm smile on your face. 
then, you turned your head and caught sight of him, you widened your eyes seemingly in recognition, but you had ran, almost as if you were trying to escape from him.
well, dazai had tried to chase after you. But in your haste, you had failed to look at the road. tires screeched and you got hit by a car. 
he had ran and reached out his hand to try and pull you away despite knowing it was futile. but it was too late. blood splattered on him, staining his hand. Not that he ever cared. 
the cat was unhurt though, somehow miraculously shielded by your body. its large eyes looking into his’s before letting out a small meow then ran away. leaving you on the ground. 
sirens cut through the deathly silence, medics quickly rushing out of an ambulance after a bystander called the police. arriving just a few minutes later.
He tsked, running his hand through his hair, and and slipped away from there, away from that street, never to return.
on the fourth time, he saw you again. now convinced that you were a special case, he had to find you before you were gone. 
but unfortunately, he was too late again. you were a member of an rival organisation, holding important information and so was captured, interrogated, then brutally killed by one of the executive’s ability. crimson red blood pooled around your corpse before he got a chance to talk to you. 
“she already told us what we needed to know already. it’s no use keeping her around.” was what ozaki said when he demanded an explanation. “best to kill them before they cause further trouble. Say, dazai, don’t tell me-?” she frowned, shooting him a small glare. sighing deeply when he shook his head no. 
“I have to say, she was quite pathetic. Immediately telling us everything when we threatened the lives of her subordinates… I overestimated her.” was what she said while walking away slowly disappearing into the darkness, leaving him alone in the dim room. 
it was strange, he had to admit. the fact that you died every time before he got the chance to talk to you was quite eerie. not that he could do anything about it. Then, he left you again, leaving his underlings to clean up the mess. 
it happened nine times more, but instead of seeing you directly, he saw it on the news or heard it from his acquaintances. looking at your picture, you looked different in every universe but you had the same features. just enough to be recognizable. 
He was in the agency now, a new member. And amazingly, in record time, he was already doppo kunikida’s worst nightmare. 
today was his third day. how boring was this? 
in short: indescribable.
he felt like a deer caught in a spotlight. Far too out of place. Dazai knew how to put on an act, one to cover his true intentions quite nicely. Not enough to fool edogawa, of course. But enough to fool everyone else. 
he had listened to what odasaku had told him, be someone who saves people. he did or tried, or it would be something that he would do later. Depends, really.
…maybe one of the reasons he decided to follow through with his friend’s words was to make himself feel better. From what though? 
the guilt of not being able to save you? Maybe not stopping you from dying on the first time you met? 
Impossible. he was known as the demon prodigy after all when he was back in the port mafia, famous for being someone who had no remorse for murdering hundreds or committing endless heinous crimes. 
How troublesome. Such emotions were an obstacle to his goals. 
He tried to get rid of it. ignoring the guilt that was eating his heart away helped only a bit. But distractions helped. A few bottles of sake and his guilt would leave him for a while. 
But maybe paired with the fact that he couldn’t help nor save sakunosuke oda only made it worse. 
guilt was annoying. Troublesome, a nuisance. just about anything that was negative, he thinks, leaning back in his seat and ignoring the reports he has to write. 
actually, all emotions were useless. Was what he thought, turning around and around. 
…come to think of it, he never saw you in this universe before. nor even heard of you. 
maybe you don’t even exist right now. 
which is weird. since you seem to pop up randomly in every universe he’s in. 
really, really, reallyyyyyyy suspicious- 
“Ow!” 
A book hit his head, snapping him out of his thoughts. 
“Get to work dazai!” 
ah yes, classic kunikida. Always and forever strict and doesn’t like fun. Why were all math teachers like that? oh. even former ones. all they do is yell, scream, scold, yep math is definitely ruining the minds of everyone.
“Fineeee…these are boring though… I’ll do it later….” he whines, laying his head on his desk, drawing random shapes with his finger on the light brown wooden table. 
“Just do your work already!” Kunikida yelled, clearly at his breaking point.
“Come onnnn kunikidaaaaa just let me have some funn~” 
“You can have fun after work is over-“ 
“Aaah! sorry I'm late!” 
The agency’s door bangs open, and a disheveled young woman appears.
you?
he automatically freezes, eyes widening as he feels a chill run down his spine,��dazai did just a quick double check to see if his vision is finally failing him.
the same eye colour? check.
the same hair colour? check.
the same height? check.
check, check, check.
fuck
Was what Dazai thinks after mentally checking off everything. His eyebrows furrowing. it was getting even more suspicious. Normally, you would die before he got to interact with you, so isn't this practically giving him a chance to know about you? What the hell does it- does it even fucking make sense? 
obviously not. 
which…didn’t make things any easier. 
kunikida mutters something under his breath before marching towards you, ready to give out yet another lecture. “Now why were you late?!” 
“uhm…I had to work a longer shift?” you said, shifting from one foot to the other. “Uh…it also didn’t help that there were more customers than usual..?” you added, awkwardly smiling as you sweatdropped nervously. 
“how many times do I have to tell you to fix your schedule?!” kunikida practically screams at you. “This has been the 5th time this month!” he stomps his foot before sighing, walking back to his seat and sitting down before checking his watch; “see? Now you’ve made me 3 minutes behind!” he groans, but promptly pushes back up his eyeglasses and opens back his computer to work.
“It wasn’t my fault- oh! new member huh? hi. want meat buns anyone?” you raise up a paper bag of warm buns, waiting for their response. instantly, almost everyone in that room raises their hand up. Except for kunikida and dazai.
“…we need to save some for president and haruno though.” Yosano reminded you as she reached into the bag for one. “i bought another bag of them, it’s fine!” you reassured her, then walked towards dazai.
 “hey, you. Do you like meat buns?” you ask, before letting him having a chance to answer, you stuffed the whole bun into his mouth when you got the chance, “it’s good right?” ignoring the fact that he may be choking right now. But who cares when you have dr. yosano? 
“Yep!” he replies after a while when he finished the bun, putting on a charming smile, pausing for a few moments before adding something utterly ridiculous; “would you be interested in committing a double suici-?” 
“no.” you interrupted, cutting him off. hitting his head with a folder you took from kunikida’s desk. Not noticing the slight ouch he let out. “I’m far too young to die yet.” You declare, taking out a bun and apparently practically inhaling it in less than a minute.
“What’s your name by the way?” “Dazai Osamu.” “That’s a weird name.” You remark, placing back the folder. “Anyways, I’m [name].“
“no last name?” “[name]’s surname is a mystery to everyone. only the president and ranpo know it, but apparently they wont even give a hint.” Yosano yawned stretching her arms.
“But, if you successfully guess what is her last name, you get half the money in her purse!” A random staff member chimed in.
“shut up!” you huff, “and my last name isn’t that important anyways! Besides, I’m not paying anyone for guessing my last name correctly-“
“all of you shut up! We won’t ever get any work done at this rate! Dazai, focus on your damned reports! [name]! Help organise these folders!”
kunikida hollered, now practically spitting fire. Well, to avoid trouble, everyone got to work. Expect for dazai that is. Unfortunately, he was still lazing around until you threatened to tell the president of his tardiness.
“Who knew [name] could be so strict? you really wouldn’t know her from just 3 years ago.” yosano teases as you glare at her. “Let’s not talk about that time.” You cringe, tensing up at the memory.
“ehh? but you were so cute back then! now you’re just a boring adult…” the doctor sighs, “at least I can go out to drink with you now.” she added, browsing through grotesque pictures of victims’ deaths. “oooo now this looks good…” she mumbled, absorbed in choosing the next picture to hang in her room. 
“Well im glad that I changed.” you say as you pour some coffee into your cup. How the coffee machine got placed on your desk was a wonder but no one asked why, already used to your rather unusual actions.
“Mmm…pretty sure you’re the only one that feels like that.” 
“I swear to God I’m gonna dieeee…” you slump in your chair, frowning after a few hours passed. evening had arrived and it was just about 6:00PM. The sun was in the process of setting, a warm orange-reddish glow settled around the agency.
everyone was occupied with something; dazai with his beloved a guide to suicide book, you with your day dreaming, kunikida with his work, yosano with her pictures, the staff with their own things, and ranpo who finally arrived after buying his snacks and is now feasting on them.
“there’s more work for today. Good job everyone. Feel free to home and rest.” the president suddenly appears from from his office, a black cat and haruno following him close behind.
Fukuzawa Yukichi: the man responsible for creating the Armed Detective Agency. the cat sat down the floor, then stared up at the president, letting out a small ‘meow!’ earning a few “awwws” from the agency staff and members.
“goodness…that cat is cute…” you murmur, playing with a pen. “I’ll bet I’ll scare the shit outta them the second i try to go near there though. what a shame.” You sigh before picking up your phone, after hearing numerous pings, you quickly scrolled through them, then got up, took your bag and started out.
“well then, thank you all for the hard work and please excuse me for leaving before you. I’ll see you all tomorrow then. Also! president! There’s a bag of meat buns for you and haruno! enjoy!” You waved, opened the door, and left. stretching your arms when you felt like you finally tasted the freedom of after finishing work.
you soon arrived at the train station, buying a ticket then entered the train. Suprisingly, there weren’t too much people. That’s good. after all, being stuffed in a train with loads of people like sardines in a can was never fun.
sitting down, you glanced out the window, admiring how pretty the sky looked when the sun was setting. Maybe you should wake up earlier tomorrow to see the sunrise…which would probably never happen since waking up in the mornings were hell.
nothing was really new. you followed the same routine everyday. wake up, brush your teeth, eat something, dress, then head to uzumaki cafe to work.
Which usually lasted until the afternoons. Then, you walked up to the agency’s office and helped with almost anything until your roommate spammed your messages to buy groceries or beer or whatever.
you’d head back, make dinner, do chores, shower, mess around then practically pass out in your bed until 7:00am and repeat.
you followed the same routine today as well, get back, made dinner, which today consisted of rice, vegetables, and soup. after that, you headed to bed a bit later than usual. due to innasomia from caffeine.
you really shouldn’t have drunk that much coffee at night.
either way, you were content with how things were. And you had thought that tomorrow would be the same as before until you woke up due to your phone ringing.
squinting at your clock, you wince. It was quite early: 8:00am and you only got 4 hours of sleep. just the day when you got the rare chance to head to work late.
groaning, you reached for your phone blindly, knocking down a few things until you could finally get a hold of it.
“…hello?” You groggily ask when you answer the phone, immediately snapping awake from your half asleep state after realising what the other person on the line just said.
“what the actual living fuck?”
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rua’s notes : and that concludes the first chapter! whoaaaa it sure took a while huh :0 since it’s only the 1st, I wont immediately write abt the reader and osamu’s relationship :3 also, the reader has a ability ! (just wait a few more chapters) also chapter two will be focusing back on dazai !
thank u for reading this cringy ass fic that I stayed up all night writing !
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soul-rillo · 4 months ago
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The hazbintots have infiltrated my brain, so here's a little ficlet of the origins of the tots and Lucifer's unfortunate wish. Enjoy and thanks to Rillo for betaing this!
The Beginning
Lucifer stared up at Hell’s night sky. It was bereft of stars as always. One final punishment from Heaven pushed down on Lucifer. The lightbringer couldn’t even see his own creations in the sky, cut off from the light, from the stars. Instead, there was an inescapable black void that loomed overhead in the night and blood that painted the sky in the day marked by a pentagram that barred them all into their collective prison. 
But tonight? Tonight was different. It was a miraculous event, a once in a millennium event that even Lucifer, in all his years, had only seen a dozen or so times. A night when the heavenly, earthly, and hellish realms aligned just so, and the dying stars would share their light with the universe one final time.  
The last time he’d watched the stars fall in hell, Lillth had been by his side; singing a soft requiem as she charmed the nobility and regular hellborn alike. She had always been more graceful than him, more suited to ruling. Why did she leave him? 
His heart twinged painfully in his chest, and he slapped his cheeks with both of his hands. Focus! Now was not the time to get lost in his head. He had a job to do! 
He let out a sigh as he adjusted his bow tie. Charlie had trusted him with this as a way to get more donors for her hotel, so here he was at the largest party he’d been to in centuries surrounded by mobs of hellborn and demons he didn’t recognize. 
Lucifer stepped to the side and plucked a flute of champagne off of a passing imp waiter and swallowed it quickly, hoping it would relieve some of his nerves. He was the King of Hell so he was expected to give the address to the festival; the nobility of Hell expected it, and while he may have blown off his duties as the ruler of Pride for the last century or so, he wouldn’t blow off a request from Charlie. 
He shuddered. If Ozzie found out he was separated from Lilith, he could only imagine the dates the sin of lust would try to set him up on. Thankfully, Ozzie seemed to have found someone of his own to keep him busy recently, and thank all that was unholy for that! 
Lucifer said a few more pleasantries that he hoped weren’t too awkward to the latest batch of Ars Goetia muddled about him. A brave few imps came up to introduce themselves. In every conversation Lucifer did his best to sprinkle in praise for Charlie’s redemption project. He was met with everything from feigned interest to open disdain for sinners. It made him long for a time before he split the pentagram with the other sins. When he could simply order the Ars Goetia about, then Charlie would have all the help she could ask for and Lucifer could stop falling face first into social situations. 
Finally, a blue-tailed owl goetia took center stage. A hush fell over the crowd as he pulled out his grimoire and in an impressive display of magic whipped the acid storm clouds away. 
Lucifer clapped his hands together. “Woow, hoo yeah, what a time everyone! Y’know, I helped to put the stars in the sky and make sure they sparkled. So, uh, enjoy it and everything.” 
With his speech done, Lucifer slunk back to the edge of the party and then flicked his wings out, taking off to the hosts’ mansion roof, where he could finally be alone for the evening. He leaned back against the chimney, waiting for the show to start.  
It started slowly at first—a few shots of light that were blink-and-you’ll-miss it. Then the sky was aglow, filled with flares of all colors, burning bright for mere seconds and then flickering into nothing. It was beautiful, but it couldn't last. How like his father to only have given him a shallow reminder of heaven.  
Not that he was much better. He’d failed Charlie so many times. Cut her off when Lilith left; he missed so many moments. He didn’t even know she had a girlfriend until recently!
“If only…” he murmured to himself, “I could’ve been a better dad to Charlie. She deserved the best. I wish there was a way I could redeem myself, go back, do it right, and be Hell’s greatest dad.” 
The falling stars seemed to brighten at his words and he smiled. At least something in the universe understood him. The party wrapped up as the sky returned to its usual blackness and Lucifer didn’t bother saying goodbye to the hosts or any of the sins as he headed back to the hotel. He hoped Charlie and her friends got a chance to see the stars before they disappeared. He’d heard her gushing about setting up blankets in the grass behind the hotel to watch. It sounded like a lot of fun—more fun than rubbing elbows with hell’s nobility anyway, but Charlie asked him to go and it was the least he could do for her. 
Lucifer swung the door open with a big grin. “Charlie! I’m home! How was your—oh holy mother of shit.” 
In the lobby of the hotel, sat nine toddlers. Nine very familiar looking toddlers. Charlie blinked up at him with her big, adorable eyes from where she was holding her girlfriend's hand (Was that still her girlfriend? Could toddlers even date each other?) She looked exactly like he remembered her at the age of three. 
That was when it dawned on him: the wish he had made earlier without expectation had come true, but in the most roundabout way possible. Lucifer knew that somewhere, up past the pearly gates of Heaven, some sick fuck was laughing at him.
God damn it.
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hbyrde36 · 21 days ago
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Steddie | R: Explicit (for eventual smut) | WC:4541 | AO3
Chapter 1: Ghost of Yesterday
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Two days after they failed to defeat Vecna, after Max died and came back, after Eddie died—and didn’t. Two days after they were forced to leave his body behind in the Upside Down because everything had gone to shit, a bright yellow pizza delivery van that looked like it’d been through its own apocalypse pulled into the Wheeler's driveway.
Jonathan, Mike, Will, and El finally made it home to Hawkins with the help of a friend.
On day three, Max woke up. 
She’d have a long road to recovery, but the doctors seemed fairly confident she’d walk again. Though, no one could be sure how much of her eyesight would return, if any. The same day, in a twist no one saw coming, Joyce showed up, fresh off a plane from Alaska after escaping Russia—yes, Russia—with a miraculously alive and mostly well Jim Hopper. 
And four days after the world both did and then didn’t end, the ghost of Eddie Munson appeared in Steve’s living room.
The kids and older teens, including the newest member of the doomsday squad, Argyle, were having an off-the-books meeting. After everything they’d done and been through, the so-called ‘adults’ were attempting to pull their same old shit, trying to sideline the younger set for their own, supposed, safety. 
Steve sort-of agreed about Dustin and the others, they were still too young and had already lost so much, but if Hopper, Joyce, and whoever the hell else thought they were going to bench him? They had another think coming, and he was pretty sure Robin, Nancy, and Jonathan felt the same way too.
But, whether he agreed or not, what he wouldn’t do was stop the kids from helping to come up with a plan. Because damned if he knew what the hell they should do next. 
Dustin leaned forward from his spot on the couch wedged between Erica and Will, steepling his fingers together in front of him. “So let me test my understanding. You set him on fire, and shot him—multiple times. He fell out of a third story window, and he just went… poof? Vanished without a trace?”
There was a collective groan from the room, everyone except for Lucas and El who were at the hospital sitting with Max, and of course Dustin himself. 
Robin rolled her eyes. “Oh my god, yes, Dustin. How many times do we have to go over this?”
 “I’m just laying out the facts!” Dustin snapped back. “Clearly we got something wrong here. We underestimated Vecna, and by a lot.”
 “And how is repeating our obvious failure helpful?” Nancy asked, a little defensively. 
Steve understood the attitude, he'd also been wresting with his guilt since that fateful night.
“The scientific method!” Dustin answered with a bit of the same slightly forced cheerfulness he'd been displaying ever since Max woke up. He held up a hand, ticking each step off on his fingers as he spoke. “Question, research, hypothesis, experiment, data analysis, conclusion.” 
“I got a question—“ Erica pursed her lips, giving Dustin such intense side-eye Steve wondered if it was actually painful. “Why are you such a nerd?”
Dustin sighed, as though it were everyone else annoying him instead of the other way around. “The question is—if Vecna is just a guy with powers like El, how could he have survived this long in the Upside Down? What’s keeping him alive?”
Okay, fine. Attitude or not, Steve hadn’t really thought about it but maybe the kid had a point. 
“The hive mind!” Robin offered up.
“Possibly.” Dustin nodded to her. ”Probably. So, what does that tell us?”
Erica crossed her arms, leaning back heavily into the couch. “I don’t know Mr. Clarke, you wanna share your thoughts with the class?”
“I didn’t say I had all the answers.”
“That’s a first,” Robin mumbled. 
“I’m just trying to get us brainstorming here!”
A flutter of movement pulled Steve’s admittedly already drifting attention away from discussion at hand. Something in the corner, the air there shifting and bending strangely, a little like the way heat shimmers off a sun drenched black top. He watched through his periphery, not daring to actually turn his head to look as a familiar figure materialized there. 
Fuck.
Though he looked confused and disoriented at first, it wasn’t long before the long-haired apparition tried approaching one of them.
Steve swallowed hard, his throat growing painfully tight. He fought to keep his face neutral as the ghost raised a hand in front of Dustin's face, calling the boy's name loudly before moving on to Erica, then Nancy—and Steve panicked, knowing he had to do something before the figure tried the same with him. 
“Water,” he muttered, mainly to Robin as he rose and bumped her shoulder. She was the only one really paying attention to him anyway, while the others still argued the physics and limitations of the alternate dimension. 
Steve fled for the relative quiet and safety of his kitchen. He just needed a minute alone to get his shit together, but he should have expected the phantom footfalls that followed him across the tile floor to the cabinet. 
As he took out a tall glass with shaking hands, the ghost hopped up to sit on the counter just beside him and started talking to himself.
“What the hell does a guy gotta do to get a little attention, huh?” The figure held up his slightly transparent hands in front of his own face, turning them over and back again. “I-I’m kinda freaking out here.”
Under the show of irritation he sounded sad, and a little terrified.
“They can’t see you,” Steve muttered softly, regretting it the second the words passed his lips. 
He knew better than to engage with ghosts. 
Since the moment he’d first shown signs of the gift, he’d been taught by his late grandfather to leave the spirit world be, and mind his own goddamn business.
He’d only broken the rules one other time, about a month or so after they learned the full truth of what happened to Barb and he’d seen her essence lurking around his pool at night. That experience had only served to further prove the old man’s point. 
Nothing good ever came from acknowledging the dead. 
But this was Eddie. 
They’d fought together, bled together. Eddie was his–his ally, his compatriot, his friend. 
And towards the end there Steve was even starting to think that maybe… maybe one day they could be more, if he ever got up the courage to flirt back.
Not that it mattered now.
“No shit, Harrington!” Eddie spat. “I’ve been waving my hands in front of their faces, screaming Dustin's name at the top of my lungs and getting jack squat back in return. I mean what the fu—”
With a sad little smile Steve turned, finally looking straight at the other boy just in time to see his eyes go impossibly wide. 
“Wait—holy shit! Harrington, does this mean you can see me?!”
Steve winced, grimacing at the sheer volume of Eddie's voice. “And hear you, unfortunately.”
Who knew the loudest guy he’d ever met would be even louder in death. 
Actually, that tracked. 
“Steve?” Robin’s voice filtered in as she called out to him from the other room.
Steve took a deep breath, locking eyes with the adorably confused looking ghost haunting his kitchen as he shouted back to her. “Yeah?” He raised a hand to his head, rubbing at the bridge of his nose just as Robin appeared in the doorway. 
“What are you up to in here?” She asked.
“Oh, just…” Steve trailed off, trying and failing not to track Eddie’s movements as he hopped down off the counter and began to stalk towards Robin, a determined, mischievous glint in his eye. 
“ …talking to myself.”
Her eyebrows furrowed in concern. “You okay?”
“Are you okay she asks,” Eddie grumbled, tipping his head mockingly from side to side. “Pfft—I’m the one who’s invisible. Why isn’t anyone asking if I’m okay?”
“Um,” Steve fought to keep a level expression and not laugh, even as Eddie blew wet raspberries and made increasingly silly faces inches from an oblivious Robin’s nose. “No, actually. I think I might have a migraine coming on,” he lied.
“You want me to get everyone to leave?” She asked.
Yes, good plan! 
In fairness he wasn’t exactly feeling his best. He was exhausted. It had been a long few days.
A long… week and a half? 
Years. 
It had been a long few years.
And he needed some time alone with Eddie, to talk.
“That'd be great, yeah. Thanks, Rob.”
“Sure thing. Why don't you go get in bed with your eye mask on, and I'll bring water and painkillers up?”
“Oooh,” Eddie crooned. “His majesty sleeps with an eye mask? Fancy.”
Ugh, why were all of Steve’s favorite people such fucking smartasses? He glared at Eddie before he could stop himself. Which meant he was staring daggers at a blank wall right now, right in front of Robin, leaving her looking more concerned than ever. 
Shit. 
He should have known she’d wanna stay behind and take care of him. 
“I—um, t-that’s okay,” Steve stuttered out. “M-maybe you should just go on home too.”
Her face fell.
Hacking and wheezing, he forced a fake coughing fit in her direction, only barely covering his mouth with his hand.
“Very convincing,” Eddie commented with clear sarcasm.
Robin wrinkled her nose, recoiling like the germaphobe Steve knew and loved.
“Sorry, I think I'm coming down with a cold or something actually. You should get out while you still can.”
Robin bit at her lip, looking mildly dubious, but eventually she nodded. “Fine. Just promise you’ll call me if it gets any worse, or if you need anything?”
“I promise.”
While everyone cleared out, Steve hid in the kitchen, finally getting that drink of water he so desperately needed—his throat was on fire now that he thought about it—and splashed some more cold water from the sink on his face for good measure.
“You sure you’re not actually coming down with something?” Eddie asked, sitting back up on his perch on the counter. “You don’t look so hot.”
“I’m fine,” Steve said with practiced ease, though his head was beginning to throb a bit. Maybe that migraine thing wasn’t as much of a lie as he’d thought.
With the house now safely empty of prying eyes and ears, he ventured back out into the living room, with Eddie hovering along behind, and locked the deadbolt on the front door before plopping down hard on the couch, letting his head rest against the back of it.
“Okay, so what’s the plan?” Eddie asked, pacing back and forth along the floor in front of him.
Steve let his head loll to one side. “Plan?”
Eddie groaned, stopping in his tracks to throw his head up to the ceiling. “Why couldn’t it be Henderson who can see me.”
Okay, rude.
“A plan, y'know?” Eddie went on. “To get me back? To get me out of the Upside Down or whatever purgatory I'm currently languishing in?”
Steve could only stare at him blankly for a moment as the words sank in. “Eddie—” he began hesitantly, sitting up straight.
“What? Don't tell me you’ve all given up on me already?”
Oh.
Oh, no.
Steve had heard about this, how sometimes spirits don’t realize they’ve passed on, but surely Eddie had to know. What other possible explanation could he have for suddenly becoming invisible and incorporeal? 
“Eddie, what is it you think is happening here, exactly?” He asked, praying he was wrong but bracing himself for the worst. How on earth do you go about telling someone you care about that they’re dead?
“Well, clearly I–I'm…” Eddie sputtered haughtily for a moment before looking away. “I'm not sure. I’ve been separated from my body somehow, obviously. S-so It’s gotta be some weird Vecna shit, right? And uh, you can hear me and see me b-because… because we both got bit by the bats and it gave us, like, our own little freaky hive-mind type… thing?” 
He sounded less and less sure as he went on, and Steve’s heart ached for him. He remembered the bats attacking him part, but not the dying part. That just seemed cruel.
“Eddie, um,” Steve cleared his throat, rubbing his hands together nervously. “I don’t know how to tell you this but you… you died.”
“Bullshit,” Eddie snorted.
“I’m sorry, but it’s true. We came back from the Creel house and you…” Steve paused, struggling for a second to force his words past the sudden lump in his throat. “Dustin was sitting there with your—”.
“No.” Eddie shook his head roughly. “No–no, because, if I'm dead… then how is it you can see me? Huh?! Explain that!” 
“It runs in my family. My dad doesn't have the gift but my grandfather was able to see ghosts, and his father before that.”
“Suuure, Harrington,” Eddie’s mouth twisted into a wry smile. “So—not only am I supposed to believe that I'm dead, but also that you’re descended from some long line of ghost whisperers? Is this a joke to you?! I’m in dire need of–of fucking rescue, and you’re over here trying to fuck with me? Not cool, man. Not cool.”
Steve stood, almost reaching out as he itched to comfort the other boy in some way, but he knew well that it was pointless. “I’m not, I swear I'm not messing with you. I know it’s not what you want to hear, and I'm so sorry but I'm telling you the truth. Dustin, he—” Steve’s voice cracked. “You didn’t have a pulse, Eddie.”
“Stop it!” Eddie snapped.
“I’m sorry, really. I–”
“I said stop!” 
With a choked off sob Eddie moved to shove him away, only to stumble when his hands found nothing solid, or rather, as Eddie’s ghostly and very not solid form passed right through Steve’s body.
Steve held his breath as he waited for it, the sensation of being doused in a bucket of ice water, the spine tingling, creepy crawly thing he’d felt the only other time he’d let a ghost near enough to touch.
But this was nothing like that. 
Eddie felt… warm. And while Steve still shivered it wasn’t because the failed touch had been bad or painful. Quite the opposite, actually. He was left with a pleasant buzzing in his core, the initial warmth lingering, wrapping around him like an embrace before fading slowly.
Maybe all spirits were different. Maybe Barb had felt cold because she’d hated him, because it was his pool she died in—his fault she was out there in the first place.
But Eddie was…
Oh shit—Eddie. 
Steve spun to find him on the floor with his knees pulled up, hugging them to his chest, his huge brown eyes shining with unshed tears. 
Could ghosts cry?
Steve knelt down next to him, biting back a wince as the movement pulled at the bandages hiding beneath his shirt. He’d need to change those again tonight, they felt tacky with dried blood.
Eddie's voice shook when he finally spoke again. “I’m—dead?’
Steve bowed his head in a solemn nod. He would have given anything in that moment to be able to wrap his arms around Eddie.
“T-the bats?”
“There were just too many of them,” Steve explained. “It looked like you put up a hell of a fight, but I think you bled out.”
“My uncle, Wayne, do you know if he—” Eddie trailed off, worrying his bottom lip.
“Dustin talked to him. He couldn't risk telling him everything, but he gave him your guitar pick, and told him you were a hero. That you died a hero.”
Eddie barked a wet laugh, shaking his head.
“It’s the truth," Steve said, hoping his tone left no room for doubt. "If you hadn't distracted them we never would have made it into that attic. And If you hadn’t led them away when you did…” He didn’t need to say it, they both knew Dustin could—and likely would—have been hurt or worse, and those things would have gone through the gate and into the right side up.
It was exactly what Steve would have done too, had their roles been reversed.
“How long has it been?” Eddie asked, quietly.
“Three? No–no, four days.”
“And Vecna?”
“Down, but not out. We wounded him for sure but he got away. That's why everyone was here tonight.”
“Okay,” Eddie blew out a long breath, rubbing hard at his eyes. “What happens now? Do you like, help me find the light or something?” His eyes darted around as though some doorway or portal might appear right there in the living room. “Or maybe I'm going the other way. I can think of a few reasons the big guy might not let me upstairs, but what do I know, maybe self-sacrifice gets you a free pass?”
“I don’t know.”
“What do you mean, you don’t know? Isn’t this your legacy or whatever?”
“I’ve never done,” Steve waved a hand, gesturing between the two of them. “This before. I was taught to ignore the dead. Pretend I can't see them just like everyone else and let them go about their business.”
“How come?”
“Grandfather said if you get too involved, if the dead find out you can see them they’ll never leave you alone. That it’s dangerous. The dead linger for a lot of reasons, but the most common are unfinished business and revenge. Lots of angry spirits out there according to the Harrington journals.”
Eddie tilted his head thoughtfully. “Am I really the first ghost you’ve ever talked to?”
Steve thought of Barb again, the way her face had morphed into a rage-filled mask when he revealed he’d been able to see her all along, but he pushed it forcefully out of his mind.
And lied.
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“I just told you, my grandfather—”
“No,” Eddie cut in. “I mean why, after a lifetime of ignoring ghosts, did you choose to acknowledge me?”
“B-because, you’re—“ Steve faltered, not knowing quite how to put it into words. He wasn’t sure even he totally understood. Yes he’d started developing a crush on the guy, but it was more than that. They had a connection, Steve felt it, even if Eddie didn’t. And maybe it was normal—inevitable even, when you get thrown into this shit together. But whether it was all just trauma bonding or something more, Steve couldn’t deny the pull.
“You’re—” he tried to say again as he pushed himself to his feet, only to double over, sucking air through his teeth as the dull pain in his sides turned searing and sharp.
“Steve?” Eddie shot up as he spoke, sounding worried.
“‘M fine,” Steve grit out, managing to straighten his posture without another outburst. “Jus' tired.”
Eddie raised a single eyebrow, but thankfully didn’t argue, silently following Steve as he headed for the staircase and began to climb.
Of course, this was Eddie, so he was only capable of being silent for so long.
“Hey, how come I can’t touch you, but I can walk up the stairs?” 
“I don’t know,” Steve huffed out, breath stuttering as he neared the top landing. 
Just a few more steps.
“Do you think I could, like, sit on a couch, or—or lay in a bed?” Eddie asked.
“I don’t know,” Steve repeated, trying not to sound as annoyed and in pain as he felt. He just had to make it to his room, get these stupid wounds cleaned and then he could pass out for a few hours. Maybe then he’d be able to answer questions and figure out what to do about all this. 
“What if I—”
“Eddie!” Steve barked from the top step, whirling to face him. He nearly lost his balance before catching himself with a hand on the wall. His sides were screaming at him and the throbbing in his head was getting worse too. “I really don’t know any more than you do. I don’t know all the ins and outs, or why things work the way they work.  Can you please just give it a rest for a minute?”
Eddie wilted, dropping his gaze to his feet. “Sorry.”
Fuck.
“No,” Steve sighed. ”No, I'm sorry, I shouldn’t be… y’know, when you’re—”
“Dead?!” Eddie snapped, raising his head again. He looked hurt.
“Sorry.” Steve sucked his lip between his teeth.
“Whatever.”
“Eddie—”
Eddie stomped past him and into the upstairs hallway. “Spare me the pity party. It doesn’t matter anyway. I’m telling you, if I was dead, I'd know it.”
Steve opened his mouth to argue but snapped it shut again without another word. He didn’t have the energy, and If that was what Eddie needed to believe for now to get through this, then who was he to tell him what to think? It wouldn’t change the facts but if it made him feel better, what was the harm?
Somehow Eddie had guessed the right door. He waited, leaning up against the opposite wall and very deliberately didn’t look at Steve as he walked over, and pushed into his bedroom. 
Steve went right through to the bathroom to get this over with, not bothering to close the door behind him, assuming Eddie would be able to walk right through anyway if he wanted to.
Eddie did follow, still silently brooding as he found another piece of wall to hold up.
Steve ignored him for now, he felt awful but he’d try to apologize again later once the other boy had calmed down, and carefully peeled his shirt off as he stood in front of the mirror. 
The bandages at his sides looked gnarly and gross. He’d bled again, and it looked like there was something yellow seeping into the huge squares of gauze too. He turned his body to the side, looking over his shoulder to see how the road rash on his back was doing. It looked better than the front, but that wasn’t saying much. The skin around the wide scrapes was red and inflamed. He couldn’t cover those on his own and could really only clean them in the shower, but they were shallow at least and would eventually heal on their own, he figured. 
A quiet gasp reminded him of his audience, and a quick glance over through the mirror showed Eddie staring at his torso with wide eyes.
“It looks worse than it is,” Steve said quietly, quickly looking away. Which wasn’t exactly true but the last thing he needed right now was another person trying to force him to go to the hospital. 
He knew some first aid. 
It was fine.
Turning back to face the sink, Steve ran water over a washcloth and held it to each of his dressings to soak them off. The air stung when it finally hit the wounds, as though they'd been freshly opened, and, sure enough, there was definitely some pus seeping from the edges.
No problem. He’d just have to clean them extra thoroughly.
Gritting his teeth, Steve poured a hefty amount of peroxide on a new clean washcloth and began to gently pat his right side. 
The pain was instant and excruciating. 
Bile rose in his throat, a cold sweat breaking out across his body as the world around him swam. Steve swayed on his feet, dropping the cloth to the ground as he himself began to fall. 
A sudden warmth at his back, and strong hands wrapping around his chest were the only thing that kept him on his feet. Carefully avoiding the worst of his wounds, Eddie had caught him, holding the bulk of his weight until the spinning in his head stopped.
The moment Steve could stand on his own again Eddie jumped back as though he’d been burned.
Steve’s eyes snapped up, locking with Eddie’s in their reflections as he realized with a start what had just happened.
“How?” He whispered. He could still feel the imprint of Eddie’s hands where they had cradled him to his chest. He’d felt so… real, so solid, so—alive for that handful of seconds. 
“I-I don't know!” Eddie said, a little too loud in the small space. “I didn’t even think, or-or like, I forgot that I couldn't. I saw you about to go down and I didn't want you to hurt yourself.”
“I didn’t think it was possible." Steve took a step towards him. "You should try to do that again.”
Eddie tucked his hands behind his back, moving as far away as he could without actually leaving the room. “Don't we have more important things to worry about? Like maybe getting you to a hospital?”
“No.” Steve shook his head. “I told you, it looks worse than it is.”
It was abundantly clear that Eddie didn’t believe him, but something about the accidental touch had freaked him out enough that he let it go.
As quickly as he could, Steve finished cleaning the ruined expanse of his stomach and got both sides wrapped in fresh bandages, managing to do so without nearly fainting this time, and threw a clean t-shirt on to hide the evidence. Hopefully that would stop Eddie looking at him with those big brown fucking sad worried eyes of his. 
Out of sight, out of mind, and all that. 
As much as he liked Eddie’s attention on him, these weren’t exactly the circumstances he would have hoped for.
Steve shut the lights off, and climbed into bed, pulling the covers up to his chin.
“We should try it again,” Steve mumbled through a long drawn-out yawn.
Eddie laughed softly from his corner hiding spot. “What was that, big boy?”
Steve wished he’d try to join him on the bed, but didn’t know how to ask. He untangled one of his arms from the sheets, reaching a hand out in Eddie’s direction. “Touch me?” 
The room was dark, and it could have been that Steve was a little delirious but he was pretty sure a light blush crept over Eddie's cheeks as he took a step closer, his own ringed hand outstretched.
The sight set off butterflies fluttering in his stomach.
Steve waited to feel the tips of their fingers brush, was desperate to feel Eddie’s touch again if he was honest, but it was no use, Eddie’s long digits passed right through.
“Maybe we have to–” Steve interrupted himself with another deep yawn. His body still ached but now that he was tucked in and warm in his bed, it was getting hard to fight the inevitable. 
“Just go to sleep, man,” Eddie said, his lips quirking into a small crooked smile. “It's not like I'm going anywhere.”
It should have been awkward, or weird to know someone would be there all night, lurking around while he slept, but as Steve drifted off he felt safer than he had in a long time, oddly comforted by the fact that Eddie would be there watching over him, even if he was just a ghost.
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Thanks as always to @penny00dreadful for being the best beta and an absolutely amazing cheerleader!
Permanent taglist(open): @penny00dreadful @pearynice @hitlikehammers @bookworm0690 @wonderland-girl143-blog 
@goodolefashionedloverboi @themagicalari @awkwardgravity1 @rocknrollsalad
Fic taglist (open): @sidekick-hero
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rootedinrevisions · 17 days ago
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Masterlist: Twisters
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Welcome to my collection of stories inspired by Twisters! Right now, the focus is on Tyler Owens, one of the main characters who’s brought to life in ways that explore his depth, relationships, and adventures beyond the screen.
As this section grows, you might see stories featuring other characters like Scott Miller and Javi Rivera—so stay tuned! Whether you're here for Tyler or curious about future tales, I hope you enjoy these stormy stories. 🌪️
TYLER OWENS (TWISTERS)
**ONE-SHOTS**
Painted Him Perfect (Tyler x Reader)
Inspired by Alexandra Kay’s song "Painted Him Perfect." Tyler and his soon-to-be ex-wife grapple with the stark reality of their crumbling marriage as she makes her way to Oklahoma to finalize their divorce. Despite the façade of a perfect relationship portrayed to their fans, her heartfelt video revealing their separation exposes the cracks hidden beneath the surface. ANGST.
I'm Comin' Over (Tyler x OC)
Ashley is sitting at home one night, staring at her phone. She knows she shouldn't call him. She knows it's a bad idea. But she can't resist and gives in. She sends Tyler a late-night text, and his response is immediate. Tyler arrives at her place and the two try to work out the issues in the relationship. SMUT.
Begin Again (Tyler x Reader)
Based on the song Begin Again by Taylor Swift. Just Tyler being a southern gentleman on a blind date to a girl who had written off love after her last relationship. FLUFF.
Drunk Girl (Tyler x Reader)
Based on the song Drunk Girl by Chris Janson. You and your boyfriend break up, and you go out for a couple of drinks to try and not feel anything. You start the night out with friends planning on just having a couple, but by the end of the night, you've had a few too many. Your friends call Tyler, and he steps in, making sure you get home safe. He takes you back to your place, gets you to bed, and then leaves. ANGST. FLUFF.
**SERIES**
Twisted Fate (Tyler x OC)
In the aftermath of a devastating tornado that ravages her hometown, Lexi finds herself trapped in the rubble of her destroyed home. Years ago, she and Tyler Owens were inseparable until he went down a path of storm chasing and YouTube fame. Now, as fate would have it, Tyler is chasing the very tornado that has torn through her town. Miraculously, amidst the chaos, Lexi manages to call out for help, and to her disbelief, Tyler hears her cries. Risking his own safety, he navigates the debris to reach her, pulling her to safety just in time. In the moments of relief and gratitude that follow, old feelings resurface, reminding her of what they once shared.
PART 1 I Part 2 I PART 3
Chasing Us (Tyler x OC)
When Hannah needs a date to her sister's wedding, she turns to one of her best friends and fellow storm chasers, Tyler, for help. What starts as a simple favor quickly turns complicated as the lines between pretense and reality blur. With the backdrop of a beautiful seaside wedding, Hannah and Tyler navigate their growing feelings for each other, facing moments of heartache, unexpected confessions, and the realization that they might be more than just friends after all.
PART 1 I PART 2 I PART 3 I PART 4 I PART 5 I PART 6 I PART 7 I
PART 8 I PART 9 I PART 10 I PART 11
One of Them Girls (Tyler x Reader)
After a long day of Tornado chasing, Tyler Owens and his crew head to a local bar to unwind. At the end of the bar sits a woman who sparks Tyler's interest. Despite her initial reluctance, Tyler's persistence leads to a playful evening of banter, pool games, and dancing. As the night progresses, the barriers between them begin to fall and begins the start of something beautiful.
PART 1 I PART 2 I PART 3 I PART 4 I PART 5 I PART 6
PART 7 I PART 8 I PART 9 I PART 10 I PART 11 I PART 12
PART 13 I PART 14 I PART 15 I PART 16
Enough for You (Tyler x Reader)
After months of chasing storms and harboring unspoken feelings, the moment of truth finally arrives. When Tyler returns to the team with someone new by his side, it shatters the hope you secretly held onto. In the aftermath of his abandonment, you're left grappling with heartache, wondering why you were never enough for him. As Tyler tries to make amends for leaving, the conversation takes a painful turn when he confronts the feelings he never knew existed. But some apologies can't fix what’s been broken, and all you want is to go back to the way things were—before you let him into your heart.
PART 1 I PART 2 I PART 3 I PART 4 I PART 5
Never Left Me (Tyler x OC)
Lauren is working at the law office she shares with her fiancé, Jonathan, when she receives the heartbreaking call from her father about her mother’s passing. Overcome with grief, Lauren struggles to process the loss, and Jonathan is by her side, offering unwavering support as she begins to prepare for the trip back to Arkansas. As she packs, Jonathan notices her unease, suspecting that something beyond her mother’s death is weighing on her. The tension between them grows when he gently pushes her to open up about why she’s avoided returning home for so long, but Lauren remains vague, unable to reveal the real reason: her unresolved past with Tyler. The car ride to Arkansas is heavy with silence, broken only by Jonathan’s attempts at conversation, but Lauren’s thoughts are far away. When they finally arrive at her childhood farmhouse, Lauren is hit with the weight of both her loss and the past she’s been running from for eight years.
PROLOGUE I PART 1 I PART 2 I PART 3 I PART 4
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sorcerystudios-writing · 5 months ago
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Hate is in the Air
by Nakira Taisho
Date Posted: (2024-02-12)
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Chloé Bourgeois & Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Characters: Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Chloé Bourgeois
Additional Tags: Chloenette endgame, Getting Together, Alternate Universe - College/University, based in a verse from tumblr
Series: Part 1 of Miraculous in Marvel, Part 10 of Miraculous One-Shots
Summary: After several years abroad, Marinette returns to a very different Paris...and a very different Chloé
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tedwardremus · 7 months ago
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Works in Progress
Snuffles & Son - Sirius raises Harry and opens a shop that specializes in repairing cursed artifacts and places protection wards on family heirlooms. One day, an Unspeakable from the Department of Mysteries walks in with a cursed artifact from his cousin's confiscated Gringotts vault, requesting Sirius's assistance.
Rage Against The Dying Of The Light - In a universe where James and Lily Potter survive Voldemort's attack on Halloween night. Most of wizarding society is enjoying newfound peace after a decade of war, except the young heroes who fought the war learn you can never really go back to the way things were before
Be Not Afraid Of Greatness - A collection of Frank Longbottom stories
Without A Trace - Babies don't just disappear without a trace
HP Instagram AU - Instagram feeds from various Harry Potter characters. Feel free to request a character or couple.
completed fics and one-shots under the cut
Marauder's Era/Jily
It's here. Now’s the time. I tell myself I’ll be fine -
It was a normal feeling to be nervous, a rite of passage for any mother or father. After all, eleven years old wasn’t that mature—children at that age were still so small, so dependent on their parents for guidance, comfort, and care.
Hope Lupin hugs her son goodbye before he boards the Hogwarts Express.
Unresolved Questions Of Wizard Cosmology - Ten-year-old Sirius and his father take a trip to the British Magical Observatory.
Interesting House Guests - (Or The time Sirius invited the lads to spend the week at Grimmauld Place)
Those Whom The Gods Love Die Young - Once upon a time, four boys entered an ancient magical forest in Scotland. They loved life, the forest, and each other very much. Together, they become beasts of the woods and grow to understand the forest more than anyone else who had entered the magical realm before them.
Tree Cutting - Every Gryffindor in the tower heard Walburga's howler calling Sirius a filthy traitor. Lily knows what it feels like when someone you love calls you nasty names.
Tipping The Scales - James helps Lily get back something that is hers from the Slytherin dorms.
Career Advice with James F. Potter - Lily Evans is stressed about her career advice meeting but luckily James Potter is willing to share his expert advice on the matter.
A Decent Bloke - In the Hogwarts library, James Potter eats an apple while Lily Evans works on a History of Magic essay.
Perspective - Lily asks James about the Sacred Twenty-Eight. Lily also learns how soft James Potter's hands are.
Light Is The Most Glorious - James takes Lily on a journey around Hogwarts the night before the Christmas holidays.
Does Permanent Mean Forever? - It is James Potter's seventeenth birthday, and to commemorate the occasion, he proposes to the gang that they go out and get tattooed.
Your Friend, James - It is the summer before their 7th year, and Lily and James spend the entire holiday writing letters to each other as their relationship slowly changes from friends to something more.
Rumor Has It  - Severus doesn't believe the rumors that Lily finally agreed to go out with James Potter.
A Happy Thought - The 7th-year Defense Against the Dark Arts Class learns the Patronus Charm. James is shocked to learn what Lily's Patronus is.
Awful Euphemisms - Lily and James exchange laughs while discovering a new level of intimacy.
A Promise - James sees no problem that they are only seventeen and have yet to meet each other's parents.
Hold On To The Memories, They Will Hold On To You - Lily Evans is ready to spend New Year's Eve alone in her bedroom until James Potter flies in and offers her a midnight ride.
A Miraculous Christmas Moment - A married Lily and James Potter wander around a London Christmas Market. James misses celebrating Christmas in Godric's Hollow.
Comfort and Joy - Baby Harry helps James decorate the Christmas Tree.
Querencia - The time Lily, James, and Harry spent as a family in their little house in the West Country was far too brief, but it was overfilled with love, laughter, and, above all, life.
Jily Challenge Fics
Three Lemons and a Dragon - Once upon a time there lived a Prince named James who had to save his father's Kingdom by getting married. One day an older woman gifts him three lemons that will lead him to his true love.
Erasmus Lovegoods’s Guide to Brewing Love Potions -At the start of every school year, the Ministry of Magic distributed leaflets to all students taking potions classes regarding the regulations and legality of highly controlled potions.
I'll Meet You After Dark - An Alternate Universe where the Statute of Secrecy hasn't been enacted yet. Tensions between the magical and non-magical communities are high.
My dog said I can't go out with you - Lily had been waiting patiently for James to ask her out for the first Hogsmeade weekend of the term. Sirius insists she turn James down so Sirius can hang out with her instead. (it's all part of Sirius' greater matchmaking plan)
Tranquil Solitude (Until You Came Along) - All Lily wanted to do was take a nice, quiet swim on a hot day. And then James Potter showed up. And Lily had already removed her clothes for the private swim.
Midnight Train To London - An escaped yeti causes a magical snow storm that leaves the Hogwarts Express stranded without any power. Head students Lily and James take charge and bring a little holiday cheer to the students trapped on the train.
Summer Fling Don't Mean A Thing - Lily and James meet at a potions camp over the summer and have a fling. James promises to write to her when the summer is over, but he never does. Then Hogwarts hosts an academic competition inviting all the top students from around the country to attend, including students from Cockersand Coven Academy, the school that Lily happens to attend.
This Town Is Fake But You're The Real Thing - Teen radio star Lily Evans works for a show on the wizarding wireless network called, The Marauders. The teen soap drama stars James Potter as an arrogant school jock and centers on the secret adventures of his friends in the forbidden forest as illegal animagus and a werewolf. The show's antagonist, played by Severus Snape, left after a scandal, and now Lily has a romantic storyline with James in the final season of the show. Basically, her life is a disaster.
Field Study - Lily and James get left behind on a deserted island after A Care of Magical Creatures field trip.
Other Jily/Maruader Era Fics
Katabasis - Snape gets hurt when he goes into the Shrieking Shack on the full moon. It is time for Remus to face the consequences.
Citius, Altius, Fortius – Communiter - Sirius is an Olympic athlete competing in the wizard pentathlon, James is a quidditch player, and Lily is a sports reporter. The three of them meet at the Olympic Village. And well, you know what happens at the Olympic Village...
Finding Your Magical Roots  - The Black Family welcomes the reality show Finding Your Magical Roots into their home to film a special episode.
101 Padfoots - An accident in potions class results in 101 Padfoots running around Hogwarts while Lily and James work together to round them all up
Lighting Era
Goodbyes and Surprise Greetings - Ginny's brothers have abandoned her at the Burrow while they go to school or leave the country. But then she gets a surprise visitor.
The Past is a Bucket of Ash - Over burnt photographs, Harry had a late-night chat with Sirius about his family history.
The Parting Glass - The last full moon, Moony and Padfoot spend together.
Retrouvaille (or the happiness of meeting someone you love after a long time) - The times Sirius and Harry reunited and the times they were forced to say goodbye.
When Death Would Not Come - Moody and the others will be here soon. Just endure for one more minute. Thirty more seconds. Five more seconds. As long as Neville was okay, she could endure anything.
Attinge - Harry shaves his head after the battle. Only Ginny understands why.
Secret Garden - Neville plants Hannah a secret garden on the roof of the Leaky Cauldron. She wants to show him how grateful she is for the gift.
Lightening Era - AU
1994 Quidditch World Cup  - Harry wants only one thing for his fourteenth birthday: tickets to see the final match of the Quidditch World Cup. Well, two things if you count his sudden desire to kiss Ginny Weasley.
Padfoot in Privet Drive - Sirius Black follows Harry to Privet Drive after the Triwizard Tournament.
Next Gen
Feels Like Home To Me - Snippets inside the Potter family home
We're Going On A Hippogriff Hunt -Two young boys go on a hippogriff hunt in the woods behind their house. Teddy hopes James doesn't figure out he knows nothing about hippogriffs.
Werewolf Registration Act of 1947 - A history of magic essay helps Teddy understand his deceased father a littler bit better.
Tethered - Teddy and Vic discover the isolated and deserted Hogwarts boathouse to be the perfect place to be alone together.
Am I To Suffer This Constant Stream of Interruption? - Teddy Lupin and Victoire Weasley go on their first official date. James Sirius Potter is now a third-year at Hogwarts and is able to visit the village.
A Wonderful Idea - Vic planned a very grown-up date for her and Teddy. Too bad Teddy can't ice skate.
It's All About The Timing - James Sirius Potter has wanted to ask Ellie Longbottom out since he was twelve years old. Unfortunately, he can never get the timing right.
Know Your Roots - Albus Potter is unsure if helping Uncle Neville repot moonwort plants is part of detention or a lame attempt at godfather and godson bonding. It might be both.
Acting Professional - Teddy wants to see Victoire's new office while at a work event.
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physalian · 1 month ago
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Character Types: Schemers
Saltburn was one of those pure shock value movies, putting spectacle above rewatchability, imo, but that moth monologue was great, and it’s all about how the protagonist is a schemer. Reminds me of Squidward’s accusations to Plankton in The Spongebob Movie and I mean that with 100% sincerity.
Schemers probably need no explanation, but these are characters that sacrifice a couple battles to win the war, these are the quiet ones who come out of nowhere in the last lap. If they’re villains, they’ll probably botch it, if they’re anti-heroes, they’ll probably eek out a victory, but these types usually aren’t full-blown heroes as “scheming” is seen as unheroic, but more on that at the end.
So! I’ve collected a couple of my favorites, because this time I haven’t written one to gush about worth spoiling to hell and back (but I do have one, and he’s campy as hell).
The Villain Schemer
Starscream
Top of the list is, to no one’s surprise if you follow me, Starscream. Specifically the iteration in Transformers Prime as I know that one the best and that show has some of the best character work in the franchise.
Starscream is forever second-best to his Lord and Master, Megatron. He’s second-in-command to the entire Decepticon contingent, a former Energon Seeker (a title which only he cares about and thinks it’s cool as the group went defunct before Cybertron went dark), and is quite like a cockroach. Somehow, he just keeps narrowly escaping death.
Despite everything against him at one point, low on fuel, no friends, no allies, barely a shot in the giant fetch quest to the finish line, he catches a lucky break and manages to fool the Autobots, sneak right past their defenses to steal all the MacGuffins, and then leverages and silver-tongues his way back into the good graces of the Decepticons.
Schemers are usually not physically strong, as to have both a skilled fighter and tactician in one character is OP (and leaves the argument open of why you’d be a schemer by choice if you can Punch Things to solve your problems). He only uses his guns maybe five or six times in the whole show. This version of his design is very sleek and slender. He prefers to use his claws or his wrist-rockets (he transforms into a fighter jet). Back him into a corner and he’ll probably try to either fly away, grovel for mercy, play himself up as weak and defenseless and thus a pathetic and unjust kill, or be completely unaware of how screwed he is and get his ass beat.
He’s got variety.
Starscream’s big thing though is his ego, the fatal flaw of most schemers. He thinks he’s better than everyone else, even when he’s t-cog-less and unable to transform, crawling around in the dirt scrounging for energon once he’s gone rogue. Every chance he gets, he’s either fluffing up his scant accomplishments, trying to undermine Megatron, or trying to prove how loyal he is to Megatron, and the Big M allows this because… it’s entertaining, I think.
Yet, miraculously, this mech always survives. He outlives Megatron at least thrice in this show alone. He always either has a backup plan, has a secret weapon, or is able to just weasel out of capture or execution. He’s an idiot, but he can also be incredibly clever, using Autobot mercy against them a la “you wouldn’t shoot a defenseless prisoner” or “you wouldn’t leave a bot to die even though we all know I deserve it”.
And on top of all that, he’s just really funny. Whether it’s his exaggerated movements, like how his wings will flap when he’s excited, or the one time he dances pretty provocatively in front of his whole crew chanting “All Hail Starscream” after one of Megatron’s deaths. Or when he’s his own worst enemy, getting himself into sticky situations because he just can’t let anyone else have the last word.
Plankton
Another funny schemer is the aforementioned Plankton, in a show that’s a whole lot less dramatic. Whenever he’s in an episode he’s whipping up yet another convoluted plan to steal the Krabby Patty formula, but while he can be mean and a little cruel with his insults, nobody hates Plankton. He never wins, his failures are funny, and Krabs is kind of a dick. Sometimes, you’re even rooting for him.
Maven Calore
On the complete opposite end of the humor scale, there’s Maven, from the Red Queen series. Yet another wimp both physically and magically, Maven is the second-born to the throne, who, at first, actually seems like he’s not out to steal it from his older brother like Claudius in Hamlet.
But of course….
Maven, like another character on this list, is a master of social engineering. His most famous line in the series is, “The truth is what I make it. I could set this world on fire and call it rain.”
He fools everyone, even the heroine and his brother, more than once into thinking he’s redeemable and in the third book, he and the heroine spend quite some time together where she’s trying desperately to find any shred of a decent man inside him, while he proves again and again that that man died when he was a kid, abused out of him by the queen, and that he’s not even mad about it, it’s just who he is, and she should really stop trying so hard to fix something that can’t be glued back together.
Maven is one cruel fucker, too, either orchestrating or permitting the deaths of quite a few major characters along with everything he does to the protagonist. He’s a fascinating look into the “I can fix him” trope and what it does to the people who have been convinced that it’s their duty to continue suffering abuse for the sake of family or kinship.
I wish this series was more popular, I only know one other person who read it, and they recommended it to me.
Loki
Gonna stick him here because there's just so many versions of this mythological figure, dating back literal centuries. Marvel's Loki is... a hot mess of inconsistencies. So, in general, Loki is at best, occasionally helpful if it also serves his own interests, but he's usually depicted as an obstacle. Honorary mention because everybody knows who he is.
The Anti-Hero Schemer
Lelouch vi Britannia
I get to gush about Code Geass finally, yay. But first, an honorable mention to Light Yagami (a full villain schemer). Didn’t like Death Note and don’t remember it well enough to properly comment on all of Light’s schemes but he’s not even an anti-hero, he’s a straight-up villain protagonist. People just mistakenly thought that Light and Lelouch were in any way comparable… and they’re not.
Apologies, Death Note fans. I don’t like your man.
Lelouch vi Britannia is the protagonist of Code Geass, a mecha anime probably most famous to anyone who doesn’t know it for the Pizza Hut ad campaign and “why are you buying clothes in the soup store?!”
His whole story is revenge on and the toppling of the Britannian empire and its emperor, his supremely assholeish father, who got his mom (the queen-consort) killed and shipped him and his only full-blooded sister off as political prisoners to Japan.
Lelouch is… a beautiful, smart, dumbass. He’s hyperbolically unfit, winded even by climbing a short staircase (like I said, schemers are usually wimps), but a brilliant military strategist and tactician. But above all else, he’s a master at social engineering.
On top of Code Geass being a mecha anime, it’s also got a whole supernatural lore about “geass” an ‘absolute’ superpower held by a couple different characters of the show, and Lelouch’s is absolute obedience. Whenever he geasses somebody, if it is within their power or knowledge to accomplish or provide, they are compelled absolutely to follow his command. With the massive caveat being that he can only use it on a person once in their lifetime (until shenanigans ensue).
Lelouch’s whole story is about gaining social power over his opponent, starting from basically nothing as he’s moonlighting as a high school student of vaguely noble standing. If anyone figures out that he’s actually a prince, his whole plan goes belly up. Why? His plan is to ignite a rebellion in Japan against Britannia, by creating a masked vigilante, Zero, the Man of Miracles, a man of the people, definitely not a blue-blood prince of the enemy. So ensues two seasons of absolute insanity as Lelouch’s rebellion unfolds and collateral damage collapses around him.
Lelouch is his own worst enemy. His ego and arrogance constantly bite him in the ass and he loses constantly, which, to me, is what made him far more likable than somebody like Light, who always won. He’s not above sacrificing a few for the needs of the many, even when those few are people or relatives of people he cares deeply about. He’s not above using his power of non-consent to get what he needs on anyone, no matter how much he knows they’d hate him if they knew he used it on them. He’s not above lying, manipulating, or tossing people under the bus if it furthers his goals.
But he’s not a villain. While it can be argued, even by Lelouch himself, that Japan and all the members of the rebellion that he helped raise from nothing, were just pieces on his chessboard and meaningless to him, that all he cares about is revenge and not an actual free Japan… he’s lying. Otherwise the show would not have ended the way it did, and it remains recognized as one of the best endings to any anime ever.
Schemer Heroes?
Schemers usually aren’t heroes for one big reason: They’re selfish, and selfishness is unheroic. Even with the best of intentions, like the anti-hero or morally-grey hero, the schemer’s personal goals are always, first and foremost, top priority, and if the group benefits, it’s a happy coincidence.
I’m wracking my brain trying to think of one who would qualify and while there are plenty of schemer protagonists, they’re the antithesis of the hero we’re supposed to root for, and I think it says something about us as a society.
Tyrion Lannister
If he counts, the best one I can think of is Tyrion Lannister (did not read the books, only saw most of the show). He’s yet another wimp** who has to rely on his wits and his smarts to compete and stay ahead in the world once he figures out that his money and his name won’t save him forever. And in the Game of Thrones, you either win or you die.
He does do some shady things here or there, but aside from maybe Samwell, every character in that show has done some morally dubious things.
Honorable mention to Varys, who is absolutely a schemer, but I couldn’t figure out where to put him on this list. And Littlefinger, who’s a schemer villain, but he didn’t stick the landing (thanks D&D). GOT is made up of schemers, really. I just… don’t want to keep giving GRRM free advertising.
**wimp only in that he's not physically abled like the other characters and cannot rely on his skill with a sword, only his words.
All in all, schemers take a ton of planning to be written believably, because their wits are their strongest trait. To write a super intelligent character, you really have to have all your ducks in a row so you can show their thought processes and how their plans unfold, instead of only saying “they’re super smart, trust me”.
Even when schemers are cruel, what makes them distinct from annoying assholes is that there’s some part of their character that’s impossible to argue with. They’re right, even if you hate to admit it, about even one tiny thing in the world.
Why? Because they spit in the face of lawful good and evil. They know the good guys have lines they won’t cross, and it will get people killed. They know the bad guys (usually society at large) needs to be stopped, and they might be bad, but either society forced their hand, or they’re not as bad as the alternative.
My schemer in ENNS is just a straight-up asshole, but he knows how to manipulate the heroes to get what he wants and his plan works.
They do have to succeed, otherwise they’re just idiots. They need a few wins under their belts to prove their competence as a proper schemer and not just a guy blowing smoke. Wondering if this will be the time they flop on their face, or wondering what line they’ll cross to escape this time, is what makes them so entertaining.
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dark-frosted-heart · 8 months ago
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The Fairytale Keeper's Final Assessment - Roger (Part 2)
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This is the 1st anniversary event and is in his POV.
As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this
Roger: You need a beer after working up a good sweat. Here, cheers.
Kate: A tavern…always a tavern…
Roger: What’s up, not in the mood to drink?
Kate: Now, I was feeling thirsty and I like this tavern because it’s comfy. However…I’d like more of…Nevermind.
Owner: Yo, Kate. You’re letting this guy lead you around again? You never learn, do you?
The owner held out a small dish to Kate.
Owner: I want you to try some of this dried fruit. Roger’s the type to say salting the meat will make it taste good so he’s useless.
Kate: I get it. To Roger, nutrition’s all that matters.
Roger: Hm…?
Kate was laughing as she enjoyed her conversation with the owner.
(You’ve grown used to it. Both being with me and being in this type of environment)
Shortly after meeting, Kate and I had spent a whole day together.
At the time, I dared Kate to join me on a brutal mission and even shot a man down before her eyes.
Kate’s been earnest since the moment I met her and gives 100% in everything.
That way of life’s a virtue.
However, in darkness, it’s a disadvantage.
(I know that the harder and more sincere you try, the faster your life will be destroyed)
(That’s why I told Kate that day…)
(“It’s wise to keep your distance if you want to live”)
(I always thought that Kate would go back to her old life while keeping her distance)
(Even now, Kate is with me)
Kate: Roger, hey, Roger.
Roger: Hm…?! Mmm.
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When I turned my head to look at her, she shoved dried fruit into my mouth.
Kate: Hehe, that’s for always bullying me.
Roger: Oh? YOu’re learning how to deal with me. Howeverー
I pinched Kate’s cheek and examined her.
Roger: I'm the kind of person who, when someone treats me badly, I want to treat them even worse. Remember that.
Kate: Got eet.
Kate rubbed her cheek and happiness returned to her voice.
Kate: Can I take you somewhere this time, Roger?
Roger: Next I was going to take you to the black market where drugs are secretly being sold.
Kate: I’ll pass on that today!
--
Kate took me to a lovely little cafe on a street corner.
Kate: I wanted to visit a place like this at least once with you.
Roger: Oh, even just one drink’s elaborately made. Do they have a bigger size?
Kate: Hehe, I thought so…
Roger: Hm?
Kate: You may be inconsiderate but you won’t turn a person down.
Roger: I don’t know if I’m supposed to feel insulted or flattered.
Kate: A compliment, more or less.
As I was having the coffee and lovely little pastry Kate ordered for me…
Something cold fell on my cheek.
Roger and Kate: Ah…
When I looked up, pure white snowflakes danced in the clear sky.
Kate: Snow…At this time of the year?
Roger: Diamond dust*
Kate: Diamond dust?
Roger: A few days ago, we had some out of season snow. The snow that collected on the building’s now being blown down by the wind.
Kate: Oh, how fascinating. …It’s beautiful, isn’t it?
Kate murmured as she stared at the snow falling like petals.
Kate: There’s something I once heard. That people make up to 35,000 decisions a day. If one of them had been different, we wouldn’t be seeing this today.
As Kate says, life’s made up of countless choices.
(When the day ends, I’ll reveal the fairytale keeper agreement to Kate and leave the choice to her)
(I don’t think I should be involved)
(Kate decides what she wants to do with her life)
(...But)
Kate’s gaze, which was focused on the snow, suddenly turned to me.
Kate: I’m glad I got to meet you Roger through a miraculous coincidence.
(Ah, I see)
(Not immediately giving her the choice of whether or not to continue as a fairytale keeper)
(Not telling her that the moment when we’ll have to part ways is coming)
One unconscious thought assembles into a big motive.
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(I still want to be with the little lady, don't I?)
Just as the falling snow reminds me to look up at the sky, Kate’s words remind me of how I feel.
Feelings are too simple to ignore.
Roger: Pfft, haha…
Kate: Huh, what’s wrong?
Roger: It’s nothing.
Hey, Kate. There’s one more place I’d like to go.
Roger: Oh, so this is where you used to live.
Kate: Yes. Looks like Victor’s still paying the rent. For when I come back one day.
Kate surveyed the place in nostalgia.
She muttered something before I could show her the agreement form.
Kate: If my time as a fairytale keeper’s coming to an end, then we’ll have to part ways.
Roger: Kate, here.
Kate: A letter of agreement…to continue as a fairy tale keeper?
Kate blinked as I told her everything.
She then nodded once, as if understanding everything.
Roger: Originally, I’m the one that’s supposed to sign it. But I think the choice should be yours, Kate.
Kate: I knew that you, who told me that I should “think for myself”, would say something like that.
Roger: The choice is yours, but let me tell you how I feel first.
I closed the gap between us and examined her expression.
And then I placed a hand on her head.
Roger: Kate, I’d die of boredom without you. I’d miss you. So stay as a fairytale keeper.
Kate: Roger…
Roger: So, what are you going to do, Kate? Continue being a fairytale keeper? Or are you going to say farewell-to me.
*He says 風花 which is “snow on a clear day” but that felt weird to use in this exchange. Though I don’t know if diamond dust is the right term to use either given where the snow came from.
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elon-btch · 2 months ago
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‏Hello, I am Iman from Gaza 🍉, a science teacher, a mother of five children: Nada (11), Rahaf (8), Sarah (5), Sham (3), Zeina (9 months). Technology is a beautiful, beautiful life. When the war broke out, everything turned upside down. My school that she uses was bombed, my husband lost his job, our house burned down, and our children lost their schools, clothes, toys, dreams, and future. We lost ten members of the group and lived in a tent that did not protect us from the cold of winter or the heat of summer. We were displaced more than ten times to escape the hell of war and there was no safe place in Gaza! We would flee from another place until we were besieged and miraculously escaped death! Until we set up the tent on the Mawasi of Yu Khanis and lived in it. It was not suitable for human habitation. In the winter, the rain would drown the children and the tent would be flooded with rain, with the lack of stimulants that made my daughters suffer from influenza, colds, and diarrhea. They would shiver from the cold of winter and the winds almost tore the tent apart!! And we stayed in the tent until summer came with its dangerous, scorching sun and its many harmful insects, such as flies, mosquitoes, scorpions and mice. The heat almost melted my daughters' bodies, as they were symptoms of skin diseases, ulcers, hepatitis, epidemic and pollution, all this in a wretched tent that could not accommodate two heads, as it was the kitchen, the one that was gloomy and the one that was high enough for sleeping.
‏We suffer from fetching water long distances on foot, and it is not enough, and if we find it, it is not polluted and not fit for drinking or use.
‏In this tent, my little girl Zeina was born and she left the hospital to the tent under direct health conditions. We suffer from good morning to crazy in terms of selling prices and completing vaccinations and medicines, and my daughter stopped due to malnutrition.
‏Do you think the tent is safe? No, by God, other tents were bombed near us and my children and I were shot at by occupation naval boats while we were on the sea, but we survived!
‏Since the beginning of the war, we have been living on canned food and my children crave water, fruits, meat and dairy products, but they are expensive. They crave sweets that are not simple!
‏As for our house, its walls have been bombed and everything in it, including beds, children's clothes, their clothes and belongings, has been burned. They are always crying, wanting their clothes and their clothes!!
‏We have been suffering from power outages since the beginning of the war (a year ago) and gas outages. My children are working by collecting firewood to cook food in primitive ways. We have been cut off from the outside world for five months, as there were no communications or internet!
‏Save us from the hell of war before it is too late. We are growing slowly every day 😭 Please donate to my children, help us get out of Gaza and escape this deadly war 🙏🥹🍉
https://gofund.me/77751696
https://www.gofundme.com/f/help-eman-and-her-children-escape-gaza
Guys, please donate to help them! If you can't, share it with as many people as possible‼️‼️‼️
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