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unhinged-summer-fun · 6 months ago

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common grounds (oshamir) - chapter 4

Pairing: Osha Aniseya x Qimir "The Stranger" Warnings: None, there's some mild dissociation that could count as harmful tho. YMMV.

A/N: Dividers by @firefly-graphics

series masterlist

chapter 4: soundless echoes

NyyaaaAAAAAHHHHHH—

“Yes, good afternoon, Pip!” Osha scooped up the tiny orange kitten from the floor the moment she got inside. Satisfied with the greeting, Pip ceased yelling and switched into what Osha called ‘chainsaw mode,’ purring at full volume. For a kitten that could still fit inside her shoes, he was a loud one. “You are such a loud boy today, have you never been pet in your life? Not ever?”

Osha toed off her shoes and left them in the tray to drip off excess snow and salt. “I’m in here!” Mae called from the kitchen.

Good. Just who Osha was looking for.

Mae was chopping vegetables for tonight’s family dinner. Sol lived just a floor above their apartment but preferred to keep his distance instead of coming over as much as he’d like.

“You’ll never guess who I saw at the gym.”

Mae froze, eyes flicking up to her sister. “Who.”

“Your little mystery guy.”

“What? Why was he at the Temple?”

“Huh? No. I mean the apartment gym.”

“Here? Did he follow you or something?” Mae asked. Osha tilted her head in thought; didn’t she know he lived there? Maybe they weren’t as close as Osha thought, even after two years.

“No, he didn’t follow me. He lives here. Had the access fob and everything.”

“That’s so weird…” Mae shuddered. “Oh my god, is he a stalker? Is he stalking us?”

“I really don’t think he is,” Osha said, cutting her off before she spiraled.

I’ve known her two years and she didn’t trust me enough to hear the truth when I spoke it. Why would I let someone in if all they’d do is call my life a lie?

Mae really didn’t trust this guy. But she also didn’t know him—she wouldn’t have asked him the burning questions Osha had for him.

“Remember when you owed me a meal and explanations?”

“I was busy!”

“Bullshit, Mae, you were not. Yesterday was one of your night classes, and you never ditch those except when I ask you to. And yet, you ditched both. And I know you weren’t out with him, either.”

“Of course I wasn’t—wait, what? How do you know that I wasn’t with him?” Mae turned to look at her with a wary glare. “Osha.”

“Uh.”

“He came in again last night, didn’t he?”

“Who came in? I don’t know who you’re talking about. Actually, you’re right. Let’s forget I said anything at all. Great idea, Mae!”

“Osha…”

“He only comes in when I’m fixing the machine, okay? He saw me fall over yesterday when he walked by. He was worried.”

Her sister looked at her like she’d grown another head. “Worried.”

“Yes, is there an echo in here? I also told him he’s an asshole. Sorta.”

Mae blanched, looking distinctly uncomfortable. “You’re playing with fire, Osha.”

“What do you mean? Mae, who is this guy? How do you know him?”

She gestured for Osha to help with dinner prep. “Okay. You have to promise you won’t get mad, though.”

“I can’t promise you that,” Osha said, chopping a bell pepper in smooth, rhythmic movements. “I promise I will hear you out but I can’t promise I won’t be upset.”

It was enough for Mae. “Alright. So do you want the most important facts or the whole story from the beginning?”

Osha looked at the clock. Sol could be coming over at any minute. “Just tell me what you know about him. I’ll annoy you for the whole story when Sol leaves.”

“Great. So, uh, I’m not taking night classes. I haven’t for almost two years. I wasn’t dating or doing anything illegal. I was training with him.” It all came out in a rush, like a breath Mae had held for a very long time.

It took all of Osha’s willpower not to chop her hand off in surprise. She forced her voice into a calm imitation of herself, returning to dinner prep. “You’re training with him? Outside of the Temple?” Something in Osha’s mind was screaming at her to make some kind of logical connection, but the engine wouldn’t turn over.

“I was, until about two months ago. I was… The most important thing is that I’m not training with him anymore.”

“Nuh-uh, Mae. Why’d you suddenly stop? Did he hurt you?”

“No! No, it wasn’t like that. I just… I had been given more, well, more hours, kind of, at the gym, so between that and training every day of the week, I couldn’t keep it up.” Mae sounded contrite but still shifty. This wasn’t the full story. Osha circled back to another unanswered point.

“Who is he? What’s his name?”

“He used to be… oh god, this isn’t the right time for this conversation—”

Sure enough, Sol’s one-knock entrance interrupted her in the middle of her explanation. Osha wanted to push her dad back into the hall and get the rest of the story, but if what Mae said was true, getting Sol suspicious about this would be the worst idea.

Sol came in smiling, and Osha needed to hide in the fridge to school her expression a bit. “It is cold out there,” Sol said.

“Yeah, storm front’s blowing in soon; I can feel it.” Sol looked distinctly uncomfortable whenever Osha mentioned the effects of the weather on her ankle. She was 26, not 62.

Mae swept in to diffuse everything. “Well, at least it’s mulled wine season!” She pointed to the simmering pot on the stove.

The three fell into an easy routine: making dinner, talking about nothing, and weaving around one another in the kitchen. It was a dance they all knew, but it had become a nearly scripted endeavor in recent years.

“How’s Jecki doing? Is she excited to join the competition circuit this spring?” Osha asked Sol.

“She is progressing very well. And you know Jecki, she rarely shows excitement for anything. But she is ready. She has committed herself admirably to the program; I couldn’t be more proud.”

It’s not a slight on her, Osha knows. She’d been in Jecki’s position six years ago. Once upon a time, Osha wanted nothing more than to be just like her dad: a decorated competitive boxer, a trainer at the temple, and a force for good in the community. Before her injury, he’d been hinting at her shadowing him at the gym.

After Bestine, all talk of mentorship stopped.

At least the trainer job was still an option for her.

“You know, it’s okay to stop pushing yourself toward dreams of the past,” Sol said in that gratingly sweet and understanding voice that got on Osha’s nerves.

“Dad—” Mae tried to intervene.

“And it’s also okay to be a little pissed about the fact I can’t achieve them, too,” Osha took a drink of her beer. Maybe it was the burn of her calf and ankle still searing her to the bone, but she didn’t want to let this go. She was going off-script from their usual tiptoeing around reality.

“You should think about finding a different direction for yourself, Osha.”

“I like boxing. It’s the direction I have committed myself to. It’s what I’m good at. It’s probably the only thing I’m good at. Which is why I want to apply for the junior trainer job.”

A beat of silence passed. Osha didn’t miss the look Mae exchanged with Sol. A tightness in her chest began to twist, anxiety flooding her veins and leaving her lightheaded.

“What.”

Sol rubbed his fingertips over his knuckles, a nervous tell he never bothered hiding. “The junior trainer position has already been filled.”

“Oshie, I—”

“Don’t.” Osha put her beer down and finished eating dinner with robotic focus. The inside of her skull felt like static. “Either of you.”

“It wasn’t my decision,” Sol said softly.

“I said don’t.”

Osha stood from the table then, cutlery clanking on her plate. She didn’t look at either of them as she left, going straight to her room after scooping up Pip.

Absolutely nothing was going right today. Aside from working an entire shift at the cafe, she found out her sister had been lying to her for two years, and Vernestra thought Osha was being seen training somewhere else—now Mae had been given the position Osha had wanted and worked for since she was removed from competition pools. It wasn’t enough that nobody in the gym would spar with her for liability reasons. Now, she had to be content with being just a member: no way forward, no way up, no way out.

The only thing that had gone right today was seeing the stranger.

This brand of self-pity had Osha searching osha aniseya injury bestine open again.

She opened the purple links in cascading tabs looming at the top of the browser window. As she read through the news reports of one of the worst days of her life, the tabs disappeared, having done their job of making her go from feeling bad to feeling worse.

Most children who train at the Temple never see their first competition until they’ve trained for two years. Verosha “Osha” Aniseya left her first tournament Saturday as the undisputed flyweight champion at just eleven years old—just a year after joining the gym after the car crash that orphaned her and her twin sister, Mae…

The video came last, like always.

“—Aniseya, the two-time junior champion, and favored winner tonight, has a huge lead over her opponent; this is her second time in the adult-ranked tournaments—” The crowd in the video gasped. “Aniseya is on the floor, it looks like she’s been injured—”

And there, in the center of the ring, was her. She looked so… small. She was only 20 but had as much muscle tone as anyone else in her weight class. But right now, right then, she looked like a little kid, scared and curled around herself on the mat. The pain had been so immense she’d blacked out, so the video was all Osha had to fill the gaps in her memory. The Sol from back then leaned over her body, trying to stabilize her knee—and there was her scream. It was so loud and sharp that the crowd went utterly silent.

The dislocation was only diagnosed when she’d gotten her X-ray results, but of course, the doctors only really cared about the ruptured tendon and the refractured bones in her ankle. The screws and other hardware she’d had in her foot since she was ten had to come out. Their replacements would account for the rest of her new injuries. The journalists only reported the ankle injury, at the very least. What a shame that the only dignity and privacy she had left from that nightmare was a left knee that ached constantly—but it was an ache that nobody knew about.

The announcers said some other things in the video, but all Osha heard was Vernestra’s disappointed voice, saying we can’t let you compete like this. Not anymore. Mae’s tearful offer to quit boxing in solidarity. Sol had held her hand while she cried and cried and cried.

She was twice a junior champion. Osha looked up at the two championship ribbons on her shelf, which were dirty from dust and neglect. She should have given them to Sol along with the trophies. He’d been more broken up about her being removed from the competition pool than she was, but Osha had become numb to everything those days—if she let herself feel one thing, she’d have to feel everything.

She looked away from the screen to look at her foot. Beneath that sock and her skin and scar tissue were six stainless steel pieces of surgical hardware and an Achilles tendon prone to inflammation at the slightest provocation. Such a small part of her body, all those delicate bones, but they’d ruined nearly every part of her life.

And now she wasn’t even being considered for the training position. It would have given her purpose and drive, something to get her up in the morning besides routine and an alarm clock.

Eventually, her aimless internet search turned to the Temple website photo gallery. Most were taken in the Temple, but many others were from competitions. When Osha hadn’t been injured, her face had been everywhere. She was the gym’s pride and joy, so she was on the front page of the website, she was on posters, she had a damn billboard. When she returned to the gym about two months after her surgery, she could only find her face in the photos on the walls, always in youth classes.

It was like she disappeared.

Her thoughts turned to the stranger’s story about seeing her and Mae in one of the children’s classes when they were very young. She went through the photo gallery online, searching for a particular shade of black hair, dark eyes, and a razor-sharp jawline. She found none.

She had one more idea to try and find the end of this rabbit hole.

The old guard around the gym didn’t gossip about other members. When a matter had passed, it had passed. If something distasteful happened among the ranks, it was handled personally and then forgotten. The fact that Vernestra put any stock in the rumor about Osha was distressing. She’d always been a woman who stood on principles like don’t talk behind other’s backs and don’t spread lies.

There was one rumor that never got squashed, however. When Osha had won her first champion title, there had been a very awkward stretch of weeks Sol had told her to ignore. She still didn’t know everyone there, and she was adjusting to a new school and the reality that her mothers would never return.

But still, the shadow of a rumor Osha never knew the shape of rippled and echoed through the gym for many years after. From Osha’s limited understanding, there was some abrupt incident that ended in Vernestra’s former protégé getting kicked out of the gym permanently, sometime shortly after Sol brought Osha and Mae to the Temple. Though the old guard liked to keep the competition pool free of drama, this story persisted.

I heard he went on some kind of smear campaign. Tried dragging Vernie’s name through the mud.

Wouldn’t you, if you had your back broken in four places?

I mean, I heard there were other circumstances…

Maybe she’s learned better. Kids these days could ruin us all.

It may have been enough to find any news reports. She searched Temple Gym back injury but only found posts from the gym’s blog going back ten years and more results about her own disaster. Broadening the search yielded more outside reporting, but all the pieces were fluff: charity outreach, competition results, and expansion efforts—but nothing about a former student with a back injury.

Weirdly, searching vernestra rwoh student, zero search results populated.

Osha didn’t know the shape of what she was looking at, but she knew she had a bad feeling about this.

“I’m taking my fifteen,” Osha said, casually folding her apron and noting the time. Jecki waved her off, still training Tasi at the register during a lull in service.

Osha wandered the gym. It seemed darker today, more menacing and bleak. Everyone here hid in the shadows. Maybe it was just how she felt about the news last night. None of this felt fair. Mae had admitted to training with some stranger, and Osha would bet anything that the rumors and reports Vernestra was so concerned with were actually about Mae. And they probably know it, too. They just wanted me to take the fall so they wouldn’t have the unbroken Aniseya embarrassing them.

Something had her feet stopping in front of one of the pictures beneath the stairs leading up to Vernestra’s office. It was dusty; she had most likely forgotten it was even down here. Osha took it off the nail and blew gently on the glass and frame before rubbing the dust away on her pants.

No way.

There he was. Like most other frames around the gym, it was a newspaper clipping. Even with the aged ink and black-and-white photo, Osha knew who it was. Black gloves concealed most of his face, but she knew those eyes, burning and focused even from—she checked the date—fifteen years ago. The heading said, TEMPLE GYM HOPEFUL SETS EYES ON JR. NATIONAL TITLE.

How had this photo survived?

“Osha?”

Her hands moved quickly, popping open the back of the frame to snatch the thin newspaper from behind the glass. She folded it, stuffed it in her pocket, and turned. “Mae.” Even though her expression was calm, her heart pounded.

Her sister wrung her hands, unperturbed by finding Osha here. Maybe she didn’t know about the photo. Then again, Osha didn’t even know there was a photo here until today.

“I wanted to apologize for last night. You were gone too early for me to talk to you, and…” She trailed off, expecting Osha to finish the sentence. Usually, they could do that with uncanny accuracy. But now, maybe Osha needed to hear her say it all herself. Mae shifted her weight from foot to foot before finding her courage. “I should have told you about the job.”

“You should have told me many things, I think.”

Mae winced, crossing her arms. “I can’t talk about that here.”

“Why not? They already think—” Osha lowered her voice. “They already think I’m the one going outside the gym for training.”

“They what? Who said that?”

Osha nodded her head up at Vernestra’s office. “She told me that if I was going to go training outside the gym, to at least be discreet about it.” Something occurred to her. “Mae, when did they give you the training position?”

“Yesterday, wh—”

“Oh, this is unbelievable. At first, I thought it was because I was just a broken boxer who didn’t fight anymore, but it was really because they thought I had gone against the gym! Then I find out it’s my own sister not only compromising my place here but also taking the one job I ever wanted, and she’s been lying to me for two years. Thanks a lot, Mae. Yeah, you should have told me a lot of things.”

Osha brushed past her as she stomped back to the cafe. “Osha, please—”

“I have to get back to work. And I don’t want to hear it.”

With the counter between her and her sister, this was not the place to be having this—or any—conversation. “Can I get you something?” Osha asked when Mae hadn’t walked off.

The look on her face matched the way her heart felt: despairing. “I’ll talk to you when you get home,” she said.

Osha didn’t give her an answer, and eventually, Mae got the hint, leaving.

The rest of her shift passed in a fugue, her mind idly warring between keeping her sister’s secret and clearing her name. Objectively, a boxer with a bunch of orthopedic hardware in her ankle wasn’t the best candidate for longevity. Still, two of the trophies in the massive case at the front of the gym were only there because of her. She’d done her time and put in the work. She fought through her pain and dealt with it quietly, lest she complain too much and be seen as ungrateful. Perception was everything in the Temple.

Didn’t she deserve better?

“Hey, Yord, can you make me three-shot red eye?” Osha asked.

“Absol—oops, I didn’t mean for—”

She smiled. “Thanks, Yord.”

CHAPTER FIVE

#unhingery #oshamir #oshamir fanfiction #osha x qimir #the acolyte fanfiction #the acolyte #star wars fanfiction #common grounds

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jmdbjk · 2 years ago

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Bangtan Weekly Report...

So a lot happening in here in the last 24 hours. Joon's appointment took everyone by surprise. Seems legit significant and I wondered if this will affect his military service... not in the fact that he would be exempt because of it... not implying that at all. What I'm wondering is after he completes his basic training, would he just go ahead and shift into some kind of position where he is also associated with this particular activity in the military? Stationed at whichever areas are doing this activity and such...

I think for sure it will definitely add to his future opportunities and influence in the public arena. It’s so exciting for him!

Also: Yoongi headed to Japan. I love that shirt, vacation vibes. I hope he was able to rest a little bit and get something to ease his coughing though. I know he keeps saying don't worry, he's not sick, but something is up because you don't hack up a lung like that after walking a few hundred yards for nothing.

Also today: Tae headed to Japan Spain! He looked dressed for an island party. It's been a while since we've seen him wear earrings. Or, I should say an earring since its only one. AND THE HAIR! I'm not a big fan of the frizzy perm but he is squeezing all he can out of his 20s before enlistment with the ash blonde hair moment again!

How does he even see where he's going? How did anyone recognize him? That hat reminds me of a woven straw basket I used to have in my dining room.

TAKE TWO!!! A new OT7 song coming!!! Soooo excited!!! Maybe we'll get a teaser! Produced by Suga and written by RM and Hobi!!!!!

!!!!!!! NEW GROUP MUSIC!!!!!!!

Also today: someone now pointing out that Kookie discreetly moved a small object out of camera view during his garbage disposer repairman live on Feb. 27 ...

How did I not notice him doing that when I watched the live... so now someone is saying it resembles a car key fob... for a Porsche...hmmm, who do we know that drives a Porsche? ... ummm.... I don't know... it could be, or not? It's got a reflective chrome button looking area on it. It's white and car key fob shaped...

Of course, it could also be a vaper or his own car key fob or something else... a tube of lube (Kookie... please put stuff away after you use it, I know its handy there but still... TMI you know?) ... I need more visual info.

Also today: I see people grumbling (outright bitching) about the commercialization of Festa/BTS... commercialization = selling out...

This is my take on all of that (and probably an unpopular opinion, but anyways...):

People are all for their "sold-out" king when a random t-shirt or shoes they are wearing or an insulated mug sells out, but our guys don't see a penny of that.

And now you're saying official BTS merch would be somehow unsavory... a money grab... even though money from the sale of THAT DOES go into their pockets?... please think through what you are saying...

And commercialization in the form of sponsorships is not good? How is it not good?...Sponsorships are great!

Here's the deal... money makes the world go round... so that exact thing is what will help perpetuate the longevity of BTS, those sponsorships will give BTS a shit ton of money in return for licensing/promotion and underwriting big ticket projects.

It keeps BTS alive in the public eye and keeps the income coming in order for them to do first class work and endeavor to promote themselves and give us great events. Fabulous purple fireworks shows are not free. Sponsors help underwrite the cost of that. And because these events are happening will also indirectly help the many small businesses in those areas because of the influx of visitors to these events.

Turning the city purple creates excitement about BTS and reminds locals that BTS are global cultural ambassadors. Army should be hella proud of that.

What other kpop group is getting news coverage for their 10th anniversary? None.

Deep pockets allow BTS to book stadium tours, so the more chance more of us can see them in-person.

The day the money stops flowing will REALLY be the day BTS retires.

If we are who we say we are and intend to support BTS no matter what happens... IF WE ARE IN THIS BANGTAN SHIT FOR LIFE ... and what we are given right now is merch and purple corndogs, then I will buy a keychain or a book or eat purple tteokbokki, or whatever, along with whatever music is released. If you really are against it, then don't buy anything but don't act like what they are doing is disgusting.

Anyway, its been a full day. We are headed into Festa season for the next two weeks and beyond. The timeline seems focused on positive things. Or maybe that's my imagination. I am going to enjoy it while I can.

#rant over #BTS Festa #BTS 10th anniversary #festa 2023 #bts take two #blonde tae #keeping the lube handy are we?#or jimin leaves his car at kookies sometimes #or all the time #who knows?#how did i made this about jikook?#i'm a genius thats how #bangtan weekly report

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brokendownoncemeterydrive · 21 days ago

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🫀First favorite song- MCR🫀

This is kind of one of my favorite subjects! When you first get into a band/artist, there’s always that first song that draws you in, but at least for myself that song is only my initial favorite. As time goes on and I get deeper into the discography, my og favorite gets replaced, often by a song that is rarely/never played live because I’m such a lucky lady! Please FOB please play “XO” more often than as an 8 ball I’ll give you all my money. But I digress!

I thought this would be a perfect topic for today because it was right around this time of year in 2019 that I first discovered fob, mcr, patd, etc etc. I was a sad high school junior fighting for her life to not fail her AP Chemistry midterm (and I didn’t!! Go me!), and I honestly don’t know why/how, but the music video for “Helena” by My Chemical Romance was suggested to me on YouTube. Lowkey just had a realization that I was more than likely in the middle of watching videos about chemistry and maybe the algorithm got confused lol. Well talk about deus ex machina because when I tell you it was OVER before I even finished watching the video… girls it was so over.

In retrospect, I feel I was destined to discover all these bands, but that’s a whole other post, so I’ll save that talk for now. All I know is, listening to “Helena” and from there tearing through the rest of mcr’s discography, my strongest feeling was “how did they know?”. I’m not even sure what it was I felt like they “knew”, but I think a lot of fans can relate to that kind of indescribable feeling that mcr sees you and hears you, even though they don’t know you. Parasocial af, but who cares! They helped me a lot. They still do. They’re the patron saints of weird girls everywhere and people like me who know that in theory they must get a real job when all they truly want to do when they grow up is be a vampire. Like I’m watching the music video for “A Little Less Sixteen Candles, a Little More ‘Touch Me’” by fob wondering how I can submit my resume and cover letter to vampire William Beckett.

So yeah, if you couldn’t guess, “Helena” was my first favorite mcr song. It still holds such a special place in my heart- I’m dressing up like her when I go see mcr in concert later this year!! But my favorite mcr song is now “Early Sunsets Over Monroeville”. Hey, at least there’s a guarantee I’ll hear one of those songs at the concert! Hehe.

First favorite fob song coming right after this post! I realized halfway through that this shit was going to be way too long as a single post.

Stay frosty. ❄️

#fall out boy #fob #mcr #my chemical romance #helena speaks

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nativestarwrites · 11 months ago

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How did you get the idea for your former big bang fic? Anything you want to share about it?

Thank you for the question! I love this wip and I've neglected it far too much! I started thinking about this a few weeks after I got into Ted Lasso last year, it doesn't feel that long ago but apparently it was in June! So I'm a little sketchy on the exact origin but I remember I wanted to write something that dealt with the scene in the finale with his father in a less superficial way.

The fic is more or less built around this line by James in my version of that rehab meeting.

"‘They won’t want you when you’re no longer their star player. I’ll always be your dad, but your team won’t be when you’re not playing anymore.”

And a series of events make Jamie start to think there's a kernel of truth to that as the new season starts. Things get worse, and there's some reasons why Jamie doesn't share how he's feeling with the team, but when they find out he learns he has value beyond being the star player and he's still their friend even if he never kicks a winning goal again.

It's sitting at just over 10k but I haven't looked at it for months because When Darkness Falls took over most of my writing time but I do want to go back to it. I think my outlining skills have improved from working on When Darkness Falls so I'd like to see what I can do with it with fresh eyes.

I've put a snip of one of my favourite scene behind the cut, it's just after Jamie's visited his dad right at the start.

He stands in the bright sunshine, flexing his hands compulsively, he doesn’t quite know what to do with them, doesn’t quite know what to do with himself, and he thrusts his fists into his pockets where he feels the warm plastic fob of his car keys inside the pocket. Car. Right. Time to make the long journey back home he guesses, there’s nothing worth sticking around for here.

Except, somehow there’s someone leaning against his car and he must be seeing things because its a very familiar silhouette and he only knows one person daft enough to wear all black and a leather jacket on a hot day like today but it most definitely looks like none other than Roy Kent leaning against his car.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you.” Roy answers. Like they’re in Nelson Road’s car park instead of one that’s a three hour drive away.

“Thought you didn’t agree with me going to see my dad.”

“I didn’t. I don’t. Doesn’t mean I was going to let you do it by yourself though.” Roy pauses and Jamie makes an effort to unclench his hands and relax his shoulders even though there’s every chance that Roy’s already noticed the tension he’s carrying. “How’d it go?”

Jamie shrugs a shoulder. “Dunno what I was expecting.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

“No.”

This time Roy’s the one relaxing. There’s something about the familiarity of Roy not wanting to talk about emotions that’s actually really fucking comforting to Jamie and his gut unclenches slightly. If there’s one person he can rely on to not make him talk about his emotions it’s Roy.

“You hungry?” Roy asks.

Jamie raises a shoulder in a shrug. Breakfast had been a long time ago and the protein bar he’d had on the way up here hadn’t done much, but he still doesn’t really feel like eating, it’s more a sense that he should eat.

“Good.” Roy replies as if Jamie’s actually given him an answer. “There’s a decent steak place not far from here according to Google.”

“Whatever.”

“Gimme your keys.” Roy orders reaching out a hand with an impatient wiggle.

Jamie mutters control freak under his breath even as he throws the keys to Roy. He’d complain about it more except he really doesn’t fancy driving right now, doesn’t really trust himself behind the wheel if he’s being honest. He didn’t sleep well last night and he feels like its all deciding right now is the time for it to catch up with him.

“Wait, how’d you get here?” He asks as his head swivels around, looking for the black G-Wagon and finding nothing in sight. “Did you—?” But Jamie can’t finish, because the idea that Roy Kent took public transport to get here simply so he could drive Jamie home is too bizarre a thought to say out loud. Roy evidently agrees because he just growls sightly.

“Stop gawping and get in the fucking car."

#ask answered #I need a better title than 'former big bang' or 'post-series wip'#Jamie Tartt #Roy Kent

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lalazeewrites · 2 years ago

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RETURN OF TAG GAMES

i know i have been gone for what in fandom time is 'forever', so thank you a million for tagging me @celestialmickey @heymrspatel @tanktopgallavich @vintagelacerosette @energievie @stocious @metalheadmickey @gallagher-milkovich

name: lala/larisa

age: 35 but i’m permanently stuck at 25 in my head, i always forget

where in the world are you? 📍 an hour north of chicago, near the wisconsin border

the meaning behind your URL: very self explanatory, i’m not creative with names hehe. but lalazee is my nickname and zee is because my last name is a z name. again, not creative lol

your second favorite color: pink!

any pets? one cat with the personality of a soft bunny & another cat with the personality of a surly dragon

favorite season: autumn!

last thing you read: ‘the only good indians’ by stephen graham jones

last song you listened to: ‘so much (for) stardust’ by fob is playing as i type! i am a true blue lifelong feral fan from ‘take this to your grave (2003) album fan onwards. i’ve already listened to this album so much that my almost ten year old knows most of the words to most of the songs lol

what are you wearing right now? grinning skeleton holding up a coffee cup w a smiley face on it that says ‘STAYIN’ ALIVE’ & pink shorts

a hobby of yours: writing! singing! hiking! camping! cooking! all things horror!

your comfort show or movie: i feel like your comfort movies & shows might not be your all time favs, but more like movies & shows that are easy on your brain to absorb when you’re skull is feeling soupy. as a true 90’s kid, i gravitate for comfort toward those big box office action or disaster films like jurassic park, twister, independence day, the mummy (and 2), men in black, jumanji, matrix, anaconda, etc. . . i have a thing for big monsters & big battles, so also count pacific rim as one of my favorite movies ever too haha

and finally, what are you up to today? it’s spring break! but my spinal surgery blah blah is still healing so i’m relaxing at home while my mom takes my kid to the arcade and candy shop! they’ve been gone four hours, so i can only assume they’ve had a good time lol

FANDOM EDITION

your first fandom(s): First fandom on the INTERNET would have been Star Trek XI. First media that i was unhinged about: X-Files, X-Men, Xena, Sailor Moon (apparently I couldn’t find another X related interest LOL)

your current fandom(s): My Hero Academia, Shameless, Stranger Things, Attack on Titan. . .I actively read for about 5 other fandoms other than those (Supernatural, Witcher, FMA, LOTR, Star Trek), but I’m currently actively writing in these.

how did you first get into fandom? Back when I was living in Glasgow, Scotland, it was my 21st birthday, and my friends and I were going to see a horror movie. Turned out, the tickets were sold out, so we decided to see Star Trek XI. I’d NEVER watched Trek in my life, didn’t know a thing about it, and when I walked out of that theater I was a totally changed human and now I am a Trek Encyclopedia LOL

how long have you been engaging with fandom spaces? Since 2009, so like 14 years.

how often do you read fanfics? Every day, if my brain is healthy enough that day! I sometimes take breaks of a couple months and only read published books though, I feel I get a different experience from both that I can equally appreciate.

top 3 characters from your current fandom(s): Mickey Milkovich, Bakugou Katsuki, Billy Hargrove. Angry disaster babies, I guess.

have you ever written a fic for a fandom? I’ve written 167 fics, not including those on my Patreon. So, over 170 fics, at least.

have you ever drawn fanart for a fandom? No! Funny that I got accepted on scholarship to NIU for Theater & Art, partially on my art portfolio, but I never create any art for anything!

share a personal headcanon that you feel very strongly about: Ian loves his mom more than he feels comfortable saying, because he feels like it's a family and even personal betrayal. I think it’s impossible to accurately describe how to feels to grow up with an abusive parent who vacillates wildly between adoring and abusive, but there’s no feeling quite like loving and hating your parent, desperately wishing you could be what they wanted so they’d stay, and hoping you never see them again. I know we’ve seen Ian follow Monica more than any other kids, but I think that any time he curses her out to his siblings or whoever else, each bad word is also like a self-cut.

you’re trying to convince a friend to get into your current fandom(s) If for My Hero Academia, I would have them watch the Heroes Rising movie, for Shameless I don’t even KNOW where I’d begin tbh LOL

and finally, what does fandom mean to you? Fandom is family! I’ve been in fandom for fourteen years, and I have so so so many real life friends who have been with me through literally the hardest parts of my life. My divorce, my ex husband going to prison, the birth of my child, me being a single parent, moving back to America, my coma, my kidney transplant. My fandom friends from across the world have uplifted me and been my support system through every single high and low. I don’t know how I’d be here without them, quite literally.

#tag game #about me #thanks for not forgetting me guys #sorry for my wall of text

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theretirementstory · 1 year ago

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Are you getting ready for Christmas? My town is and I have been excited about it for a while now. Now that is not normally me, it’s not my favourite time of year but I have written and posted cards and presents. Made Christmas cakes and mince pies. Have wrapped quite a lot of the presents I have bought. Yesterday I made a batch of apricot tarts to take for my friends manning the stall at the Christmas market today, in a village nearby, plus I made two jars of golden syrup to be used in cooking and on porridge when I can eat that again.

The Christmas display at the Hôtel de Ville includes an ice rink, it was opened by “Le Maire” on Friday evening along with the switch on of the lights. It wasn’t just children skating on there Mums and Dads we’re enjoying it too.

Great news, 10 radiotherapy sessions completed, only 7 more to go. I had a consultation with the doctor on oncology radiotherapy, he seemed happy with me and said that eating something before the treatment was doing what he had hoped. There will be another consultation next week.

I was at the hospital twice on Monday, once for treatment and once for a consultation with my oncologist. I asked about my diet after radiotherapy and to my relief he said that I can start to eat normally again. Was I relieved I can start to plan my Christmas meal.

Leaving home in the dark on a morning I quite often don’t take a lot of notice of the chauffeur. However, on Tuesday it was the man (Sebastien) who had driven me the previous Monday. He was full of cold a week ago but there was no sign of a cold this week. I was in a world of my own when he spoke up and said after my appointment with the doctor in radiography would I like to go to the cafe to drink coffee with him! Blimey me, was I being chatted up? Fortunately, due to the treatment I can’t eat or drink in a cafe or restaurant (just yet). I told him this and thanked him for asking me as normally a drink would have been appreciated. Relaying this to “The Daddy” he said it was like the time I was asked out for a coffee by a guy in the launderette in St Gilles Crois de Vie, I fobbed him off but days later (on a crowded beach) he found me again and invited me to the casino…… no thanks just wasn’t enough to stop his pestering but I didn’t go to the Casino either!

It’s been rather cold, no snow but a very heavy frost one day, consequently I haven’t seen any grues or cigognes, if they have any sense they will be somewhere warmer 😉.

Even more good news too, my hair is growing back 😁. I went to the hairdresser on Thursday to have the long hair, that hadn’t fallen out, cut and I am surprised at how much hair I actually have now (even though it’s short). This is the second time I have lost my hair due to treatment but at the end of the day it’s only hair, it will grow back.

This week it’s a slightly different meaning behind the music, two different songs with the same title. The first is back to 1968 it’s by Manfred Mann and the title is “Fox on the Run”. The second is by Sweet which was released in 1975. Memories of my holiday in Andernach Germany flood back, nights spent in the bar of what I feel sure was called “The Father Rhine” bar whose attraction for me was the large juke box with so many UK hits. I think we must have drummed up a lot of business for the bar as people heard the music and came inside to see what was going on. I do remember that our bill for drinks at the end of the evening was usually small as Monica (the barmaid) managed to add an extra drink to other people’s tabs, you had your beer mat marked when you got a drink. 😂 such fun times.

“The Daddy” my gorgeous grandchildren, “The Trainee Solicitor and “The Ex-Graduate” have been visiting their “London relatives” who arrived in sunny Scarborough only for it to snow like crazy and make travelling to and from a bit of a nightmare. Anyway duty has been done, for another year. I received photos of my grandchildren with their uncle, what wonderful photos they were too everyone looking so happy. I can’t wait to see everyone in the flesh, so to speak, and have big hugs.

Monique is still not well and thinks she has bronchitis again, her husband Jean Claude has Covid which I think she has carried to him. She had been helping an elderly neighbour who was ill and he was taken into hospital with Covid.

Maud sent a voice message, she is having problems with her family and feels sad that she hasn’t been to see me. I told her not to worry and that we would meet up in the New Year with a trip to “Le Belvedere” The restaurant at the lake, that she introduced me to.

Anie has less than two weeks now until she flies off to Indonesia for Christmas and New Year. Maybe I will see her before she goes.

Everyone has been or is going away, or so it seems to me. I messaged Pauline, she has been to Florence for a few days (boy does that girl get around!) of course she sent me some photos one included David, not her new boyfriend, but Michelangelo’s David.

So now it’s almost time for me to bring the car out of the garage and drive down to the Christmas Market. I will hopefully be making another two jars of golden syrup this afternoon (you can’t have too much of a good thing )😉.

The sun is shining but brrr it’s cold, currently -3c.

Until next time……..Bon dimanche!

#barsuraube #andernach #nature #trees #photography #baking #crafts #noel #florence #60’s music #70’s music

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leoolol2 · 4 months ago

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29/09/2024

I wasn't expecting something this big, but here is my second day of writing.

anotação pro meu psicólogo: o senhor pode me fazer um relatório pra eu ir pro psicólogo da minha mãe, por favor? ela queria que eu fosse porque eu realmente tô com dificuldade de estudar mesmo estudando fora do meu quarto, e ela achava que o meu quarto era o problema. :) obrigado.

Well, I can't sleep. Like, at all. So here I am, already writing this in 2:30 AM! I probably will have an all-nighter and wtv, I should be productive tonight.

I was a bit productive, doing some of my math homework and watching some mvs from my fav bands until 4 am and then just passing out. I then woke up at 9, and my mom wrote some of my fav bands on my nails! i forgot to mention yesterday that i painted my own nails at night. (mcr and p!atd). i also took a bath in the morning and washed my hair; something i think i havent done for about 1 or 2 weeks? i think im getting worse, mental health wise, but i dont know. i'll update this once the afternoon ends. I also ranted a bunch about mcr and fob to my mom, and she complained about linkin park to me. i love my mom and having similar interests with her! My brother came to visit us today! :)

I ate some actual meal today: broccoli, rice, just a bit grinded meat, sweet potato, and normal potato. The broccoli tasted like shit. I also drank peach tea. After lunch, we went back home and got my Nina the Killer cosplay jacket to a dressmaker so that she could put a zipper on it. We then went to get some icecream at McDonald's! I ranted a bunch about MCR again but this time to my brother. :)

After that we went back home and my family decided to put up the shelf I had on my floor for the longest time. It's a bit crooked, but I don't mind, honestly. I now have a bunch of shit I need to put up on the shelf once more, though. It's all on my bed, making me barely able to sit here and write this on my PC. Well, I should put up my stuff on my "new" shelf.

after scrolling through tumblr a bunch my mom did my nails for me. it was fun. i only got a top coat added because my black nail polish is on the verge of dying but its fine! i'll buy some later. my nails are not shiny, though.

i did some of my hw, and also got my piano out of under my bed! my friend also got me in contact w this russian boy, i think hes cute. hes in brazil too, so i rly hope he replies to my dm on insta.

im so so soo sleepy, so im gonna go sleep after i finish at least this teacher's hw. its 21:47, for the record. i didn't stay up that late today. still, im gonna post this. i hope whoever reads this has a good day!

꒰꒰・┄┄┄┄・rants section・┄┄┄┄・꒱꒱

this is a section i made up to see if any time i have any rants, i come here!

so it will be more in depth than the actual casual diary. (i also will mention when exactly i wrote it!)

12:52. thinking about how my therapist tells me to act as my own best friend. i dont know how, genuinely. i cannot. maybe i can suck my own dick sometimes and tell myself im so hot and the best person in the world, but thats obviously not true. its not like i feel like that all the time, either. from a day to another i suddenly feel like the worst person alive. its not as if someone tells me that i am, or something triggers me. i just feel that out of no where. but whatever.

16:22. My dad doesn't understand that yelling at my dog doesn't do anything. It just makes her madder and more pissed off at the world and makes me actually feel sick and about to cry. I want to protect her from everything. I don't want to be here, I want to go away with her and fuck everything else. I won't be missed probably anyway. The only people that would miss me is my online friends, who doesn't really know me in real life. Well, I guess some that have this blog can now know more about me. :)

16:26. Thinking about the ripped up letter. I wasted 2 hours of my night writing that for a girl who didn't even want me romantically. She just wanted to have fun, someone to kiss with no feelings truly attached. I guess that would be fun if my feelings didn't feel so extreme. Someone I love can become someone I despise just because of a small mistake they didn't really mean to do. Well, I try not to be too mad at them for that, but this isn't the case of that anyway. I wanted her to be my girlfriend but she didn't want to have anything romantic. She practically cut ties and said that she had shit for yesterday when she used to be so excited to see me some time ago. Maybe it was an excuse that she made. Either way, we're not talking. I don't really care about her. I care about the time and words of mine that she wasted.

17:46. i was listening to music and back to the old house reminds me of them so much. fuck. i miss frank.

17:59. i feel too feminine, doing my nails and liking girly things. my face is too feminine, my voice is too feminine. everything about me, the way i walk, talk, read out loud, interact with my friends. absolutely everything. i want to cry thinking about it because i dont want to. maybe this is an internalized issue of some sort. i really need to address this in therapy, probably.

18:17. I just noticed im going back to my "scenecore"/crunkcore phase. fuck. one of my worst, honestly.

18:30. just wanna mention how amazing i feel rn:3 feeling on top of the world is so good !!

18:58. winderson is making me rage. makes me want to punch him or throw it somewhere. but he's my baby, i cant do that.

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vaguelyrotten · 4 months ago

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To Hell With the Consequences - Chapter 9

Alec Lightwood knows danger - as the son of a prominent criminal family, it's something he's intimately familiar with. However, a chance encounter at a club proves that there's more out there than he was originally aware and he finds himself suddenly thrust into a world where All The Legends Are True.

The portal dropped them on the boardwalk, as close to the B&B carousel mentioned in Alec’s text message as Magnus could safely get them. The first thing he noticed was there was an eerie silence, and the only sound he could hear was the crashing of the waves in the distance. The second thing he noticed was that the typically bustling place no matter the hour was entirely abandoned. The rides were powered off, unlit and quiet, and even the street lights weren’t illuminated. The only light for them to see by was the full moon high in the sky above them. Magnus snapped his fingers and summoned a floating, glowing orb to slightly brighten their field of vision.

“I wasn’t aware this place closed,” Jace muttered, and Magnus couldn’t help but notice that he’d unholstered a hand gun and was holding it at the ready. “And it’s making my skin crawl. I think maybe we should leave. Alec can’t be here.” He started to turn away to walk toward the entrance, and Magnus had to grab his arm to stop him.

“It doesn’t,” Magnus replied quietly. “There’s a heavy Look Not spell over the entire area. It makes people keep walking or turn away. Not even the attraction workers are here today. Valentine and the Denarians must have paid a warlock to make sure they weren’t disturbed for their ritual…and it wouldn’t have been cheap, either. There are only a handful of people, myself included, who could cast such a powerful spell…I can’t pull it down without alerting everyone to our presence here but I can cast something that should help with that urge to leave. Hold still.”

It wasn’t a complicated bit of magic he was about to cast but to do so without leaving any trace of his magical signature took slightly more concentration than it normally would. He dulled his magic and cast it out in a net, looking for the very edges of the spell. When he found it, he reached out with his own power and took a thread of Isabelle and Jace’s own essences and braided them into the Look Not spell. When he was done, he opened his eyes and noticed that the two Lightwoods were looking slightly more at ease. “There, that should do the trick.”

“That was…I knew Alec was here somewhere but I was so sure he wasn’t. I was ready to leave him,” Jace said, and Magnus could hear the obvious distress in his voice. “What did you do?”

“I wouldn’t have let anyone leave unless Alexander was with us, I promise. As for what I did…well, without deep diving into a full explanation of magical theory, I keyed you into the spell, so to speak. Think of the Look Not ward as door with an electronic lock, what I did essentially gave you the key fob to allow you entry. The spell recognizes the two of you as people who are supposed to be here and it will no longer work on you the way it would before.”

“When Alec is okay and we’re sure we’re not facing down the end of the world, I’d love to pick your brain. That sounds fascinating,” Isabelle added, and Magnus couldn’t help but noticed that she’d uncoiled a whip and it was hanging limply in her hand, though knowing how dangerous all the Lightwood siblings were, he was sure that she could jump into action at a fraction of a second. “I’ve seen you do all sorts of things that I didn’t think were possible tonight. I can’t wait to learn more.”

“If and when we get your brother out of here, I’d be happy to oblige. You’re all more than welcome to come over to my Loft over a round of drinks. I’m always happy to show off.”

Jace huffed next to him, and stared off into the distance. “So…where do you think Alec is? This place is huge, and even empty it could take forever to find him.”

As if it had been waiting for that very question, a flash of fel green light shot into the air. “I think that would be your answer,” Magnus replied blandly, worry pooling in the pit of his stomach. It wasn’t even midnight yet and the fact that they were so openly casting magic that could catch the attention of anyone who could see through the Look Not spell couldn’t be good. ��Fel magic…we knew they were up to no good here but if you needed any further proof, there’s your sign. Only those with evil intent go down the path of using fel magic.”

“It wasn’t far off. Just on the other side of that coaster, I think,” Jace said, squinting as he tried to see through the dark.

“I think you’re right about that,” Magnus agreed, twisting his hands in a few complex movements and covering the three of them with a few extra protection spells. He knew how Alec felt about his siblings, and if they all made it out of this safe and alive, he was sure his boyfriend would appreciate the extra effort. “And the witching hour isn’t far off. Whatever they’re going to attempt, they’ll do it then. That’s when the veil between worlds is the thinnest. The cost of using magic isn’t as high. Come on, then. Let’s go see what’s waiting for us on the other side.”

“Wait, Magnus,” Isabelle said quickly, grabbing his wrist as he started to walk away. “What are we expecting to find?”

He bit his lip because truly he didn’t know. This was very much Ragnor’s territory instead of his own, and he wished the Knight were here right now. Magnus’ father may be a fallen angel but his own experience with the Denarians and the Knights of the Cross was limited. Warlocks, Werewolves, Vampires and Seelies were at the fringes of the Shadow World, not one of the major players.

“I wish I could tell you for certain but not even I know. I’ve never met a Denarian nor actually seen one of the coins that was serving as their prison. Ragnor has told me some but I’m fairly certain he was withholding information so I didn’t get too curious and get myself into trouble. If we weren’t on such a time crunch, I’d dig through my library or the Spiral Labyrinth to see if I could find any information about the spell that was used to contain the Denarians but unfortunately, we don’t have that luxury. I’m going to have to try to figure this out and counter it on the fly.”

“And what about us? We can’t exactly do magic and we’re about to face off against actual evil angels,” Jace asked as Magnus led them onto the boardwalk and past Tony’s Express coaster.

“You’re job is going to see if you can get that coin away from your brother. I think if we can break that connection, I believe that it will free him from the Denarian’s possession. If it doesn’t, well…I’m sure we can cross that bridge when we come to it. If that happens, just restrain him while I attempt to deal with Valentine. Ragnor said that his guardian angel had a plan…angels don’t really talk to the son of a demon so I’ve got to trust his faith that everything will work out. We’ll just do the best that we can and hope for the best.”

They fell into silence after that, and Magnus knew they were all tense about whatever it was they were about to find. The tower of green light flashed again, and he knew that they were running out of time. He could feel the power of the spell drawing them in, and this close to the epicenter, he could practically taste the darkness radiating off of it. “Brace yourselves,” he whispered, as a couple of figures came into sight. “And remember, the Alexander that we’re about to meet isn’t the brother that you know, at least not until we get that coin away from him.”

There were, in fact, four individuals standing in the center of an expertly drawn arcane sigil - two men Magnus didn’t recognize, one bald and one blond, Alec, and another individual that he unfortunately knew all too well. The group turned when they heard them approach and a wicked grin spread across the bald man’s face. “Honestly, not who I expected to see but I was wondering if anyone would join us. Now who might you be?”

Alec stepped forward, his eyes glowing an unnatural green. Even from the way he carried himself, Magnus could tell that that his boyfriend’s mind was not his own. “Magnus Bane,” he said with a bland tone. “My host’s boyfriend. Isabelle and Jace Lightwood — his siblings.”

“Boyfriend?” He heard Isabelle whisper next to him and he realized quickly that the specifics of his relationship with Alec had never been defined.

“Problem for another time, my dear,” he responded quietly, keeping his attention on the small group in front of him. As much as it pained him to do so, he ignored his boyfriend, choosing to address the man at the very back of the group instead. “Malcom Fade — why does it not surprise me to find you right in the middle of this?”

Malcolm wasn’t someone he would consider a friend but they had both been around long enough that he was someone Magnus was unfortunately familiar with. The other warlock wasn’t anywhere close to him in raw magical strength but there was something to be said about his underhand ways. “Leave, Bane,” the man sneered though Magnus could tell by his tone that he was surprised to see him there. “This doesn’t concern you.”

“I think it does,” Magnus replied, his magic nearly sparking at his fingertips in anticipation. “Unleashing that level of evil into the world effects us all, actually. Besides, anything that concerns my boyfriend, concerns me as well. I see he’s not himself right now, and I would very much like to do something about that.”

That earned him a low chuckle from the creature currently residing in Alec’s body. “He was hoping you would stay away, you know,” the Denarian sneered in a tone that was so unlike Alec that it broke Magnus’ heart. “He was hoping that you would all stay away. He doesn’t want to put you in any danger and yet…he’s still relieved to see you. He believes that if anyone has a chance to stop what’s about to happen, it’s the Great Magnus Bane.”

“Namshiel,” Valentine snapped before turning his attention to the blond man who had been quietly standing by his side watching the whole thing play out. “That’s enough. We’re wasting valuable time, and we don’t want to miss our window because you were too busy running your mouth. Magog, deal with our guests, please, and as for you, warlock, I’m not paying you to stand there. Finish setting up the ritual.”

The body of the man that Valentine had addressed as Magog began to twist and Magnus couldn’t help but take a few cautious steps back, magic sparking at his finger tips waiting for direction. The transformation was quick and in seconds where the blond man was standing, a grotesque ape-like creature was now in his place.

“What the hell is that?” Jace asked as the creature roared at them.

“The twisted form of one of the fallen angels,” Magnus replied, firing off two balls of magic before throwing up a shield around them. “My magic is demonic in nature. I’ve still got the raw power but it’s not going to be as effective as a Knight of the Cross and their holy blade.” The creature threw itself against Magnus’ shields and he winced. “And unfortunately, keeping us shielded is going to drain me pretty quickly. I need to save some of my strength for the main attraction.”

“I’ve got an idea,” Isabelle questioned as the creature slammed into them again. “That thing looks pretty dense and I’d hazard a guess that it’s going to sink instead of swim. Any way you could toss it off the pier?”

Magnus glanced at the railing and out across the crashing waves. It certainly wasn’t the most impressive method of dealing with their current situation but if Isabelle’s assumption was right (and another glance at the creature pounding on his shield, he was starting to think that it was) then it would be a quick, easy and a still highly effective matter of evening the odds. Without lowering his shield, he twisted the wrist of his right hand, creating a large tendril of magic behind the beast. With the quickness of a whip it wrapped around Magog’s middle, lifted it in the air and cast it into the ocean with a surprised and terrified scream. They all waited for the creature to reemerge and when it didn’t, Magnus lowered his shield with a snort. “That was a first.”

Jace pumped his fist in the air. “Suck it, King Kong!”

“Don’t celebrate too soon, brother mine,” Isabelle added with a roll of her eyes. “We’ve still got Valentine, our brother, and another warlock to deal with.”

“I’d ignore Malcolm,” Magnus said, turning his attention back to the group still gathered in the arcane circle. “As soon as it becomes clear that he’s going to lose, I’m sure he’ll turn tail and run away like the little weasel that he is. Focus your attention on Alexander and getting that coin away from him. I’ll distract Valentine as long as I can.”

“And what then? Just freeing Alec from the Denarian’s control isn’t going to end all of this? What do we do next?”

“That I don’t know. We take it one step at a time, and hope that Ragnor was right and that he and Alec and the angel have a plan.”

He gathered another ball of magic in his hand and hurled it at Valentine. He wasn’t trying to take the man down, not yet at least, but he needed his attention focused on him and not whatever Jace and Isabelle were about to do. The spell hit him in the back of the head and he turned toward them with a growl, an evil red flashing in his eyes. “Sorry for interrupting,” Magnus taunted, taking two steps forward and putting himself in front of the Lightwood siblings. “But I really can’t let you go through with this. The world we live in now might not be perfect but I’m pretty damn positive it’s still going to be better than whatever fresh hell you’re trying to unleash.”

“I tried to do this the nice way,” Valentine growled, the shadows gathering around him as he stalked toward Magnus. “I gave you every opportunity to walk away. This doesn’t concern you, warlock, and all three of you could have walked away with your lives intact. I’m afraid it’s too late for that now. We’ve come too far to let you ruin everything we’ve worked for. Namshiel,” he snapped, turning his attention to where Alec was waiting obediently behind him. “End them. All of them.”

The Denarian possessing Alec chuckled and his body began to change. Gone was the pale skin and dark hair that Magnus knew so well. Alec’s skin looked like it had turned to grey leather and two bat like wings had sprouted from his back. One of his now clawed hands loosely held Amorrachius as it pulsed with a low red light. “This is going to be fun,” he hissed, a forked tongue visible as he spoke.

“Shit,” Magnus swored under his breath because Alec’s transformation certainly threw a wrench into their plans now. “That presents a problem.”

“He’s screaming, you know,” the creature that used to be Alec sneered, his voice like nails on a chalkboard. “He so desperately wants to stop me. He doesn’t want to be the reason that the people he cares most about die but he’s locked away in the back of his own mind and powerless. His misery, his pain, his grief…it tastes delicious.”

The Denarian raised the blade, and Magnus could tell that he was about to strike. Next to him, Jace raised his gun but he could tell that the other man was hesitant to shoot his brother, even if it wasn’t Alec who was currently in control. “You don’t have to do this,” the blond pleaded though they all knew that it was useless. “Alec doesn’t deserve this. Just let him go…I’m sure there are plenty of degenerates who would gladly give themselves over to you.”

“Deserve?” The creature asked, swinging Amorrachius toward Magnus’ head as the warlock threw up another energy shield to block the attack. “It’s not about what he deserves. He’s lucky to have me sharing his body, even if it is only temporary. Do you want to know a secret? Once we’re released from our prisons, our hosts will cease to exist. Their bodies will become ours and their consciousness will fizzle out into nothing. Your brother is already as dead as the three of you will be when I’m finished with you.”

The attacks came quicker, and it took all of Magnus’ focus to keep the angelic sword from hitting any of them. Jace fired off a few rounds but mortal bullets wouldn’t wound a demonic creature with hardened skin. “He wanted better for you, you know,” the Denarian continued to taunt. “He wanted to be better for you, Magnus Bane. He hasn’t known you long but he loved you.”

Those final three words stunned Magnus enough that he froze in place. “I loved him too,” he answered quietly. “I still do love him and that’s why I’ll continue to fight for him. I will never give up on him.”

The creature screamed and raised Amoracchius, and Magnus’ magic wrapped him and the Lightwood siblings in a protective bubble. The sword came down against the barrier, and Magnus closed his eyes at the impact, expecting the Denarian’s rage to drive him to try again. When no second blow came, and the world around them went strangely silent, Magnus couldn’t help but open his eyes to see what had happened.

The being in front of them was a strange mixture of the Denarian’s batlike form and Alec’s human appearance. Glowing green eyes were now replaced with the warm hazel that belonged to his boyfriend and the wings on his back had started to recede. He’d collapsed to his knees, Amoracchius now steadily glowing it’s normal white. “Mags,” Alec gritted out behind clenched teeth. “Please. You’ve got to end this… I can’t push him back much longer. Don’t let me die this way. I want it to be my choice.”

Magnus’ heart broke at what were so clearly Alec’s own words. “Alexander,” he said softly, dropping his shield and pulling his his boyfriends to his feet. Alec had broken Namshiel’s hold on him for the briefest moment to beg the man he loved to end his life on his own terms. Magnus’ hand cupped Alec’s jaw and he couldn’t help but notice the tears in the other man’s eyes. “You are not going to die today, Angel,” Magnus whispered before grabbing a fistful of Alec’s shirt and pulling his boyfriend into a kiss.

Alec’s job had kept him so busy that this was the first time he’d been able to give his boyfriend more than a quick peck on the cheek. He felt Alec tense, obviously shocked at Magnus’ decision but he quickly relaxed. He could feel how desperate Alec was to have this one moment to himself before he likely begged Magnus to kill him once more and free him from the possession of the Fallen Angel.

He sent out a little jolt of magic, searching for his real target, and was relieved when the spell told him the item he was looking for was inside Alec’s pocket. He pulled Alec closer, one hand tugging at Alec’s hair while the other snaked into his boyfriend’s pocket. When he felt the unmistakable weight of old metal in his fingers, he closed his hand and broke off the kiss.

Alec stared at him with confusion as Magnus turned toward the river and used a little bit more magic to chuck something out into the depths of the Hudson. The remaining traces of Namshiel’s presence faded from Alec’s body, and he brushed his boyfriend’s cheek with a thumb. “Feeling better, darling?”

“I’m not sure what you did, or how, but I feel like myself again,” Alec whispered, closing his eyes briefly at Magnus’ gentle touch.

“I simply parted you from the coin’s control…but as much as I would love to savour our success, I’m afraid we’re not done yet, My Love.” He gestured toward where Valentine now Anduriel was snarling behind him, the shadows spinning around him like a growing tornado. Alec’s grip on the sword tightened, and Magnus was pleased to see the sword kept glowing a steady white. It seemed Ragnor was right - the angels did have a plan for his Alexander, and it meant that they wouldn’t have to entirely face the leader of the Denarians without aid. “I hope you feel comfortable using that sword you have because it seems we still have to save the world.”

0 notes

the-firebird69 · 10 months ago

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There's a few things to say about this my son is doing a good job and daughter but this is a great job and it's a shoe in and we're just staring at it there are certain risks though and we have to get ready for those and we have to be prepared for trouble and we could be causing a lot of problems but we'll have to straighten it out but it's an opportunity and could be a very big one like you said we have our illusion in the Midwest we would have a business we would have money we'd have control over one of the largest companies and the largest producers and we'd be looked to as people are doing some helpful stuff we really wanted that and needed we're providing food and will eventually use the stamp method but we're not going to use the same electronics or wiring harness we're not going to put in the weird doodads it's going to be a regular car have electric locks and windows but we'll have options to go to manual and people can order them and they do a lot of people order it because they're so sick and tired of being locked out the damn thing not working for half an hour having to reset it and it is a pain in the ass okay your fob gets fried the car stuff gets fried and the regular locks work and there's a certain way to do it it works better and no you have a key and you hide it and you use it on your door and then the better way is to have one for the ignition and it is nice it does work and people can't figure it out and a son says what would be even nicer would be to have electronic ignition but solid state will you turn the key and you push the pedal down and you have to push a button those people forget and we're trying to rip off the car it's harder cuz the ignition is not right there in the steering column and we'll think about that change too there's a lot of things he comes up with and are very nice so we're going ahead with us now

Thor Freya

I think I can get us into several factories today and to start them up and I still own them and that's why and we do know that probably controlling share

Ken

But I'm controlling share but we have a lot of it controlling share is Ben and Mac so those are your cadre

Thor Freya

So I'm making agreement to sell only to us and really I use my forces but they wanted they want to be there and to help out to make sure that it doesn't get destroyed and we need that so he says there's only one way to tell but we will make conversations outside of us too and they have a way of saying it so I'm going to check it out and I'm going to see what you're saying

Ken

We don't make a formal agreement but he's right you start loading it up and getting ready to go and we'll have some up front talk and conversations and we'll show you what we can do and get your materials and yeah we supply most of it out there and that's the catch or the boon

Thor Freya

He wanted to be helpful and they want to use up your materials so let's get going on this everybody not going to have a meeting today

Ken

Of course we're going to want some and we'll open our plants and yeah we kind of do that you get some permissions but really we go ahead and do it and we can get materials or they can send them they say we get that too

Bja

We do send to who we want they're not in the favorite list but we do work as well with a try and do elicit stuff

Thor Freya

You do understand that you do it at your own risk but we do see what you're saying and I think we're going to prove it and the max say they will too

Mac daddy I'm not ready to do it the Chevrolet and Ben Arnold is thinking about it but Chevy is pretty big they have a car like it it's not the cavalier and it's not the bolt but it's the same size and look and they sell tons of them tons and he wants to simplify it and make it better and easier to assemble it'll be faster with a better motor with them doing it and make a sport version and then super sport and call it that too and a hatchback I'm actually probably ready to talk about it they can pump them out with a stamping method that I use will help get it going and out there too and they have a security program that you can ease into I sort of like this and everybody needs them we need them desperately and having a super sport would be nice so I'm going to go ahead and put in for it and see what comes out and actually I'm the head guy so he said we had our meeting and you have to meet with them sort of and I'm going to do that and I appreciate it too and really a super support it's like the Volkswagen golf GTI called the performance version. We want to tons of those but we can't get them so this will work for us and she would have thought what a thought

Mac daddy

And we keep stuff open out there the deal is too rich and the max wanted so we're going to try and go ahead and do it

We need to steal two and the two did a great job and his cadre is sitting there with Pontiac but these guys will start up and they'll want to start that up and Chrysler is not doing very well and PGA might take it over

Thor Freya

Olympus

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jdgo51 · 1 year ago

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Peace I Leave With You

Today's inspiration comes from:

Peace Be With You

"'A friend and I were texting today about how our mornings had not started well. She had lost her keys and subsequently missed both a dentist appointment and a work meeting. I had placed an important form in a “safe place” and then could not remember where I put it. The longer my friend and I kept looking for these items, the more flustered and upset we became.

As time dragged on, my friend’s worries grew. What if she did not find her keys? Had she thrown them away by accident? Getting a replacement key fob is not easy nor cheap. My concerns mounted as well. While requesting a new form would not set me back in money, it sure would set me back in time. I just knew I would have to call customer service and be passed from person to person to request what was needed. I dreaded the hassle it would be. Instead of stopping a moment to collect the proper perspective—and most importantly, pray about it—we both swirled through our homes like raging storms.

Thankfully, I am happy to report that we both found our missing items. My friend’s keys were in a closet on the top shelf. She had looked in that closet but in a raincoat pocket. She never thought to look up at the shelf. I had misfiled my form, and in my agitation and haste, must have flipped right on past it while looking. I was relieved but not proud at how easily I lost my cool. And if I am honest, this is not an isolated case. How many times have I let minor inconveniences and agitations rob me of my peace? Yes, today we misplaced important items. Tomorrow it may be traffic. We may spill something the next day and make a huge sticky mess. Sometimes, our peace is jeopardized not by something that happens but by worries and negative thoughts.

There are many verses in Scripture where peace is mentioned, but one of the most studied and quoted is John 14:27. In this verse, Jesus is preparing His disciples for the fact He will be leaving them soon. He says,

Peace I leave with you; My peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.

There are three sentences in this verse. Each one is packed with importance.

“Peace I leave with you; My peace I give you.”

Various Bible scholars point out that “peace” was often used as both a greeting and a parting sentiment. We find examples throughout Scripture of its use, specifically after the resurrection of Jesus (John 20:19-26). However, the way Jesus emphasizes peace in this verse by using the word “My” makes peace seem more than just a mood or feeling but an actual gift or possession. Peace is valuable, and Jesus wants nothing more than to give it to His disciples. This type of peace – a peace that passes all understanding (Philippians 4:7) — is only possible in the giving of Himself. He knows they will need this level of peace for what lies ahead, both His crucifixion and the start of the Church where most of them will be martyred.

“I do not give to you as the world gives.”

Thinking back to my harried morning, one could argue that a better organizational system could have prevented my situation. Yes, organization is a great thing, but all the planners and filing systems in the world will not deter humans from misplacing things from time to time. Human error is a reality and trusting our peace to things of the world (even though I do love my day planner) is simply an illusion. Life happens. What matters is how we react. That is why our peace should not be dependent on everything going right. It will not happen.

“Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.”

When I read this sentence, I tend to focus a lot on the last part where He says, “do not be afraid.” Fear is crippling, so it is comforting to know His peace is available for those moments in life that bring us to our knees – the loss of a loved one, serious illness, and more.

While we know from Scripture that Jesus cared very much about the hurting people He met in His earthly ministry, His peace is more encompassing than just for serious seasons of life. He wants His followers to claim His peace every day. Notice in the first part of the sentence He says, “do not let your hearts be troubled.” That does not mean we will not have frustrations – they are just a part of life. But accepting Jesus’ gift of peace means we will look to Him in both the big and small situations. After all, He cares for our every need (1 Peter 5.6-7).

Are you feeling unsettled today? Could you benefit from a fresh infusion of God’s peace in both big and small concerns? Take a few minutes to talk to God about both the troubles and the fears you are facing. After prayer, take some time for yourself. Many people find the rhythmic motion in coloring to have a calming effect. You can color today’s Scripture from Peace Be with You: An Inspirational Coloring Book for Stress Relief and Creativity. Share your finished creation on social media with the hashtag #coloringfaith.

Written for Devotionals Daily by Mandy Wilson.

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stevethehairington · 2 years ago

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✨ Mack's Fic List ✨

✨ Most Recent Work:

who you share it with | 2.2k | 911 | buddie

“Oh, hey, green this time,” Buck’s voice filters in as he swings around the corner of the railing. “What flavor is that? Watermelon or green apple?” He doesn’t pause to let Eddie answer though. “Or maybe strawberry? Although, I think Haribo are the only ones that do that. S’weird though, don’t you think? Strawberry isn’t green, it should be red.”

Eddie, who hasn’t looked up from his book — he’s mastered the art of splitting his attention, by now — snorts and curls his hand into a fist. The ring pop is lodged halfway down his middle finger, a little tight around the knuckle but secure. He stretches his arm out towards Buck, a silent offering.

Buck brightens and veers towards Eddie’s side of the couch. His fingers wind around Eddie’s wrist to steady it and he draws Eddie’s hand up, ducking down halfway to meet it.

He hums delightedly, as he gets his answer.

✨

some sunny day | (in progress) | 911 | buddie, gen

A collection of 118-word drabbles, written for the 118dailydrabbles season 8 hiatus challenge on Tumblr!

(Each chapter is it's own; more specific tags and warnings will be listed in the notes at the beginning of each one!)

Updates daily!

✨ 911 Works

in your own sweet time | 1.5k | 911 | buddie

“How’d it go?” Buck asks as they reach the Jeep. He jams his thumb into the button on the fob — has to really dig his nail in to get it to work, it’s so worn down— and the locks click open.

“Good,” Eddie answers, sliding into the passenger seat. He runs his tongue over his left molars. Practices his bite. Bares his teeth at Buck in the kind of smile a seven year old Christopher used to flash all the time. “Easy. It was just a filling.”

“No pain then?” Buck asks and the engine purrs to life. He switches the gear to reverse.

“Nope, they numbed me up good. Still feels weird, though,” Eddie says, touching his fingertips to the left side of his upper lip. He prods at it carefully, barely feels it. “Kind of heavy. Like it’s on a lag or something.” He chuckles even though it kind of sucks. “Don’t know how I’m supposed to kiss anyone with only half a working mouth.”

Buck laughs. Puts the car into drive and pulls towards the main road. “Who’re you supposed to be kissing anyway?”

Without thinking, Eddie replies, “You, I hope.” Then freezes.

✨

let love take hold of us | 2.7k | 911 | buddie + christopher

“Hey,” Eddie calls, twisting his shoulder as he stuffs his arm into his jacket sleeve, “take a coat, bud. It’s cold today.”

Christopher, already halfway to the door, pauses to scowl at Eddie. “It’s sunny,” he says.

“It’s supposed to be windy,” Buck supplies, doing up the last button on his coat.

“And it’s December,” Eddie adds.

Christopher rolls his eyes. “In California,” he counters, unimpressed.

Eddie sighs. “It gets cold in California.”

“No,” Christopher says, impatient, “it doesn’t.” Then he’s out the door. Coatless.

“Stubborn,” Buck comments, bumping his shoulder into Eddie’s. “Reminds me of someone.”

Eddie huffs a laugh.

Or, Christopher Diaz and the Consequential Coat Conundrum; featuring christmas tree farms, hot chocolate, and the kind of stubbornness only a thirteen year old can possess.

✨

forever and ever and always | 1.7k | 911 | buddie

“Y’know,” Buck says, drawing the tips of his fingers over Eddie’s knuckles, where they’re slotted with Buck’s other hand in the space between them, “if I took your last name, we’d have the same initials.”

Eddie blinks, suddenly much more awake than he was five seconds ago. “What?”

“Yeah,” Buck continues, oblivious. “You’re E.D., Edmundo Diaz, and I’d be E.D. too. Evan Diaz.”

Eddie’s stomach swoops at the sound of that, and he fixes his eyes on Buck’s face. Stares hard at him until he catches onto it.

“Is that— is that something you’ve thought about before?” Eddie asks.

✨ Stranger Things Works (below the cut):

for all the pretty mouths and pretty words | 5.4k | st | steddie

Eddie snags both drinks with a thanks to the bartender and turns to head back towards Steve. Things have been going well, things have been going really well — not even that rocky start could put a wrench into things, and the note they left off on before Eddie slipped away was promising. Eddie is eager to see where the rest of the night will take them. He has high hopes.

But, as Eddie is intimately familiar with, highs are not meant to last, and hopes are easy to lose.

Things, meet wrench.

He makes it three steps when his stride stutters because — oh. That’s. That’s Steve, with a girl. A pretty girl. With short, sandy brown hair and freckles. It’s the same pretty girl Eddie had seen with him earlier. The one he’d thought, for a second, might be Steve’s girlfriend. He’d let himself hope she wasn’t, when he first approached, and let himself start to actually believe it when he’d tried his hand at flirting and Steve had flirted back.

But now...

Now Eddie’s not so sure.

Or, the one where Steve puts his foot in his pretty mouth and Eddie pays the price. Featuring: cherry stems, half smoked cigarettes, and the world's biggest misunderstanding.

✨

the privilege of being yours | 3.1k | st | steddie

“What do you think?” Eddie asks, grinning.

“You’re ridiculous,” Steve laughs, already reaching for Eddie’s ankle. He curls his fingers around it and gives it a tug, beckoning Eddie closer. “They’re perfect, you’re perfect. I love them,” he adds, as Eddie scooches into his space.

Steve cups both of his hands to Eddie’s face and kisses him right on the center of his mouth. “I can’t wait to marry you,” he says.

The kiss turns into something else as Eddie’s lips split against Steve’s, and he murmurs back against them, “I can’t wait to marry you.”

When they break apart, Steve taps Eddie’s knee. “Okay, where’s the rest of your sense of tradition? I showed you mine, you show me yours now.”

“Oh, I’ll show you tradition alright,” Eddie responds, and he reaches for his left sleeve.

Or, the one where Steve and Eddie share a rooftop, beloved traditions, and so much love.

✨

hold your breath and just dive right in | 4.5k | st | steddie

“Come on, man, what are you waiting for?” Steve calls, several feet out from the shore where he’s treading water with a perfect, practiced ease. Fucking show off. “An invitation?”

“Ha ha,” Eddie shouts back, deadpan. He makes no movement towards the water, though. Just digs his toes into the sand and wiggles them, watching the tiny grains spill into the spaces between and swallow his feet.

He glances up to stare out at the lake, and his stomach roils uneasily at its vastness. The other end is visible from where he stands, but it still seems so far away. They’re nowhere near the middle either, and even Steve isn’t that far out. It still makes Eddie nervous.

The funny thing is, it isn’t even his recent experiences with Lover’s Lake that’s putting this horrible feeling in his gut. Well, okay, maybe it is a little bit. But mostly, it’s because Eddie already didn’t like the water before that. He’s never been a fan.

Because Eddie Munson does not know how to swim.

Or, the one where Eddie Munson does not know how to swim, and Steve Harrington is nothing if not the perfect teacher.

✨

keep me on a rope | 6.6k | st | steddie, unrequited stommy

Tommy wipes his palms against the side of his jeans and squeezes through the crowd, never once taking his eyes off of Steve as he makes a beeline right for him.

He’s a couple feet away, gearing up to call out his greeting when someone else beats him to it and sidles up to Steve. They touch Steve, putting their palm low on his waist, half tucked up under his blazer. It’s an intimate touch, an almost possessive one in a very casual sort of way.

Tommy freezes in his tracks.

Steve perks up in the presence of his new company, back straightening and body turning into theirs — receptive, familiar.

He tilts his head, just enough that Tommy can see the smile gracing his lips, the softness in his eyes, and the other person dips their own chin, leaning in to whisper something into Steve’s ear. Their curtain of hair sways forward, brushing against Steve’s collar, and Steve reaches up to tuck it behind their ear, giving Tommy a clear view of—

Of Eddie Munson.

Or, Tommy Hagan attends his ten year high school reunion hoping for one thing, and leaves with something else entirely.

✨

trippin stumbling flippin fumbling | 5k | st | steddie

“Don’t be such a coward,” Eddie tells himself. “Fucking— go.”

His body doesn’t move. Not even an inch. His ass stays glued to his seat, his feet firmly planted on the floor. His hands don’t leave ten and two.

“God dammit,” Eddie groans, dropping his forehead down to the wheel.

Except — he underestimates the distance, and rather than pressing into the top of the wheel between his hands, his forehead smacks squarely into the center of the horn.

He jerks back so fast he gives himself whiplash, but the damage is done. There is no taking back the short, sharp, loud honk that emits from the bowels of his traitorous van.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, fuck, shit,” Eddie hisses, eyes going wider than the moon hanging in the sky tonight.

He immediately slouches in his seat, sinking down as low as he can go. But it’s too late. He’s caught Steve and Robin’s attention now, and despite parking off to the side and a little further back, his set of wheels is unmistakable.

They’ve seen him. He can’t leave now. He has no choice but to go inside.

✨

when i turn out the lights | 1.8k | st| stommy

Steve tells everyone who asks him that his first kiss was Sheila Anderson when he was fifteen years old.

But, really, that's not true.

It was Tommy Hagan. When he was fourteen.

Or, the one that tells the real story of Steve Harrington's first kiss.

✨

love grows (where my rosemary goes) | 3.2k | st| steddie

“Do you know you have, like, a trillion freckles on your face?” Steve asks right back, leaning in. His left hand winds itself around the strap of Eddie’s overalls, pulling him in too, and the right one catches Eddie’s jaw. It’s cold from his own lemonade glass, abandoned somewhere by his feet, and his thumb sweeps over the bridge of Eddie’s nose, the apples of his cheeks. Doubles back to tap the single freckle that sits right on the tip.

It’s true — Eddie does have freckles. Maybe not a trillion, but when the sun peeks out from behind the clouds like today and becomes a more permanent resident in the sky, those pesky little polka dots like to make their appearance, painting his face in faint faint dusting. They’re not obvious or anything; nobody really notices them unless they’re looking for them.

But that’s the thing about Steve. He’s always looking. Always seeing.

It’s why Eddie loves him so much.

It’s why — oh. He loves him.

✨

the strength to let it show | 3.2k | st | steddie

So, the thing is, Steve likes Eddie.

As in, he kind of wants to date him. And to kiss him. And to be his boyfriend.

But, he also doesn’t want to tell him that. Not in so many words, anyways. Those have never been Steve’s strong suit, words. He always messes them up. Never picks the right ones, always ends up sticking his foot in his mouth. The thought of sitting Eddie down and making some big… confession is mildly (extraordinarily) terrifying. Big speeches and grand declarations usually are — don’t let the romcoms and the chick flicks fool you. They’re never as easy as they look.

He doesn’t not want to tell Eddie, though, either. So it’s… well, it’s a tricky situation.

Until Robin, brilliant brainy genius Robin, suggests that instead of telling him, he should just show him instead. That way Steve can avoid the dramatic deliverances and still get his point across, just in a way that’s comfortable for him. On his own time. At his own pace. He can gradually show his hand, can drop hint after hint until Eddie gets it (and Robin is confident that he will in no time at all).

So Steve does.

✨

shake it loose together | 6.3k | st | steddie

Steve keeps his voice quiet enough as he sings now, not wanting to disturb the masses just one room over, but it’s still loud enough for him to get a little lost in it. He matches the strokes of his sponge with the tune he’s singing and even starts to wiggle his hips along. It’s hard not to want to dance to this one — Bennie and the Jets, because it came on the radio in the car while he was making his rounds to pick up the kids, and it’s been stuck in his head ever since.

Most of the dishes are clean now, so all that’s left is the silverware. The casserole dish was the last of the major pieces. Steve’s just finishing rinsing it, letting the excess water sluice off the sides before he sets it on the kitchen island with the other plates waiting to be dried.

In the process of turning, two things happen at once:

1. Steve squeezes his eyes shut and tips his head back as he belts out the chorus, “She’s got electric boots, a mohair suit, you know I read it in a magazine, oh. B-b-b-bennie and the jets!”

2. His eyes fly back open to land right on Eddie. where he stands in the doorway — no, leans in the doorway, like he’s been there a while, like he’s gotten comfortable.

✨

to my heart i must be true | 14.4k | st | steddie

Robin starts to smile, this big, evil grin that unfurls slowly across her face, and oh. Oh no. That’s not good. That’s never good. That always means trouble.

Robin sticks her hands on her hips and juts her chin out at Steve. “I bet I can get a Valentine’s date before you can,” she says, all arrogance.

Dustin and Lucas oooh at her fighting words, then turn to Steve for his rebuttal.

“Robin, Robin, are you sure you want to do that?” He asks, standing to his full height. His shoulders roll back, and he feels the patented Harrington Charm flooding back through his body like a switch has been flipped.

“Absolutely certain,” Robin replies, not backing down. She holds out her hand.

Steve shakes his head at her, then lets an easy, confident smile curl his mouth. “You’re gonna regret that,” he says, then smacks his palm into hers, “but you’re on.”

In which a bet is made, Steve’s prowess shines until it doesn’t, and sometimes things don’t end up the way they’re planned.

Sometimes, they end up better.

✨

i was thinking maybe i could lay beside you | 3k | st | steddie

Their room is the last door on the right, just like Joyce told them.

Eddie pushes inside first, immediately flicking the lights on. He spots their bags in the corner and beelines straight for them.

Steve, on the other hand, freezes in the doorway.

Because, oh. Oh.

There’s only one bed.

Which — Steve doesn’t know why this surprises him. This isn’t a hotel. It’s a guest room at a friend’s house. Of course it’s not going to have two beds in one room. He doesn’t know why he was expecting that.

But it’s — it’s fine. This is cool. He can share a bed for the night. He’s shared lots of beds in his day. There’s nothing different about this time.

Except that there is because he doesn’t have to share with just anybody. He has to share with Eddie.

Eddie, who hasn’t even batted an eye at the bed situation. Eddie, who seems cool as a cucumber about it. Eddie, who—

Who’s already shucked his shirt off and has his thumbs hooked into his sweats, about to tug those off too, and jesus fucking christ, Steve can’t do this. He cannot do this.

✨

in all your blame, in all your pain | 2.4k | st | steddie

When Eddie had gotten dragged headfirst into this alternate hellscape dimension, DnD monsters-come-to-life nightmare shitshow, no one told him that by the end of it he’d be offering himself up as bat bait to do his part in putting an end to it all.

No one told him that he’d wind up mangled and shredded and torn apart, but still, somehow, alive.

No one told him that he’d be bedridden for months afterwards, as his body stitched itself back together. That some days would be painful at best, while others would be downright excruciating. That he’d barely be able to walk at first, or bathe himself, or even eat on his own.

No one told him that healing would be the most grueling part of it all.

But those were all things that Eddie could get over. Things that, with time, he could forgive. After all, it’s not like anyone had known that that’s how it was going to play out.

What Eddie could not forgive, however, was the fact that no one, not one single member of their rather large, rather extensive party had told him just how much Steve god damn Harrington loved to play Florence fucking Nightingale in the aftermath.

✨

come and rest your bones with me | 2.6k | st | steddie

“We’re making a fort.”

Steve is barely even halfway through the door when he is accosted with the declaration. His slick raincoat is still zipped up, his wet umbrella still wide open and dripping onto the porch behind him.

“What?” He asks, fumbling to close the umbrella and shake it out before a stack of blankets are being shoved into his arms.

“We are making a fort,” Eddie repeats, grinning at Steve. He’s got his own heap of blankets bundled against his chest, and when Steve glances past his shoulder he can see that the bones of said fort are already mostly established — Wayne’s armchair has already been moved from its cozy corner of the room to now sit directly across from the couch, and the coffee table has been pushed to the side so as to not be a nuisance to the building process.

And, well, it sounds like a lot of fun, actually.

“Yeah, sure, alright,” Steve replies with a huff of a laugh.

✨

hash brown, egg yolk (i will always love you) | 2.8k | st | steddie

Six months is a long time to be apart. A long time to go without seeing Eddie in the flesh. Without hearing his laugh, low and melodic, right against the shell of his ear. Without hugging Eddie around the middle and hooking his chin over Eddie’s shoulder while he stands at the stove and pushes something delicious around a pan. Without kissing Eddie.

But so is the way of being married to a hotshot musician with a band that has more than made it big.

Because that's what Eddie is. And, god, Steve couldn’t be more proud.

Even if it does mean that sometimes he and Eddie have to go long stretches of time without seeing each other.

But that doesn’t matter anymore. Because Eddie is home now, and he’s going to be home for a while. Corroded Coffin just wrapped up the European leg of their tour (“Fucking Europe, Stevie! Can you believe it!”) and they’ve been given a month before their North American leg is set to start. A whole entire month that Eddie already promised he will be spending at home with Steve.

Starting today.

✨

stuck to the gum that's stuck on your shoe | 2.1k | st | platonic stobin

“Talk to me, Steve,” Robin says, “please.”

And now she sounds upset, and that makes Steve feel even worse.

He doesn’t want to say it, doesn’t want to make Robin feel bad. She’s been so excited ever since she got that letter in the mail, going on and on about the linguistics program she’d been accepted into, about the campus and how gorgeous it is, about the surrounding city and how much there is to do there.

Steve doesn’t want to rain on that parade more than he already has.

But he knows that she’s going to wheedle it out of him eventually. Might as well rip the bandaid off now.

He can barely bring himself to say it. It hurts too much to acknowledge. But he does, because he has to. Because he will have to.

“You— you got into college, Rob. You’re going to leave,” Steve finally tells her. Whispers, because if he says it too loud he thinks he might break again.

“Oh, Steve,” Robin breathes.

✨

i wish i knew how (your eyes are like starlight now) | 10.6k | st | steddie

“Mistletoe!” Robin cheers, and Steve’s heart stutters so hard in his chest that he thinks it might crack his ribcage and drop right out the bottom of his stomach.

His eyes fly up, and, sure enough, there hangs one of the many sprigs hung all around the apartment. Small and inconspicuous, but unmistakable. That ridiculous little plant has no idea that it’s just turned Steve’s entire world on its axis.

Across from him, Eddie’s eyes are trained up too, big and round and wide where they stick on the mistletoe. His lips are parted in surprise, and Steve can’t help but stare and think am I going to kiss those now?

When Eddie finally tears his gaze from the plant and lets it flicker down to Steve, a pretty pink dusting blooms across the bridge of his nose and spreads into the apples of his cheeks when he finds Steve already looking back.

Steve spares the mistletoe one last quick peek before he takes a deep breath and steels himself. This is it. He sticks his hands on his hips, aiming for casual, and asks, “What do you say, Munson?”

Or, Steve makes a promise, Robin likes to meddle, and the spirit of Christmas strikes (out) again. And again. And again.

(Until it doesn’t.)

✨

under my umbrella | 5.8k | st | steddie

Steve sidles up to the bench. Munson stands at the other end of it, arms crossed tightly over his chest, glaring out at the street as if that will make the bus show up any quicker. His bangs are flat against his forehead, the rest of his long hair lank and wet over his shoulders.

He looks like a drowned cat.

So Steve holds out his umbrella. Tilts his chin and raises his eyebrows at Munson as an invitation to step under and get out of the rain.

Munson looks at the umbrella for less than a second before he turns back towards the street with a scoff. “No thanks,” he says. “I’m good.”

“Dude,” Steve says, dumbfounded.

“Dude,” Munson parrots mockingly.

“You’re really going to turn down my umbrella?” Steve asks, still holding it out.

“I really am,” Munson replies, showing all of his teeth in a rancorous smile. “Now if you don’t mind,” he adds, taking a large step forward, closer to the curb and further from Steve.

Steve lets out an indignant huff and pulls his umbrella back to himself. Only just refrains from muttering an unsavory name under his breath because he’s a good person now.

Whatever. Let Munson get soaked. Let him freeze.

✨

temptations of trouble | 2.8k | st | steddie

Eddie ignores the flip flopping in his stomach as he meets Steve’s gaze and fits his palms to either side of Steve’s jaw. Cradles his face like he’s something special now. (Because he is.)

And then he leans in to kiss him. Right on those pretty pink lips of his.

It’s short and sweet like it always is, but when Eddie pulls back and opens his eyes, he’s met with Steve’s, wide as fucking saucers, goggling unblinkingly back at him. He can feel Robin’s stare boring into the side of his face, can feel the tiny pinpricks of Nancy’s and Jonathan’s and Argyle’s on his back too. The whole room is quiet enough to hear a god damn pin drop.

Eddie is about to open his mouth and ask what the hell that’s all about when it finally catches up with him.

He just fucking kissed Steve fucking Harrington. On the mouth.

✨

waving down the wind | 10.3k | st | steddie

Eddie furrows his brows, and he’s about to ask Steve what he did come over here for, when Steve starts to shrug out of his jacket. Rolls his shoulders back and lets it slide down his upper arms.

“I came over here,” Steve starts, and he gives his arm a shake when the sleeve gets caught around his elbow. Once it’s off, he bunches his fist into the fabric of the collar. “To give you this,” he finishes and holds out the coat.

Eddie blinks down at it. Then he looks back up at Steve. “What?”

Or, three times Eddie looks cold and Steve does something about it, and one time he’s toasty warm.

✨

the world will follow after | 2.6k | st | steddie

Another glance at the clock and Steve really has to leave now. He barely has time to shove the piece of toast Eddie, so graciously, made for him (crisp, but not too crunchy, and definitely not burnt, with just the right amount of butter spread thin across the top) into his mouth before he’s running towards the door.

He’s about two steps away from it, hand already reaching for the knob, when Eddie catches him. He gives Steve's shoulders a squeeze, then spins Steve around and reaches for his collar next, fussing with it until it’s straightened and flat. He pats Steve twice on the chest and gives him a smile.

“All set now,” he says. Then, “have a nice day at work.”

Steve, at the complete whim of his scrambled brain, smiles back, tells Eddie thanks, glances at his watch, curses under his breath, then leans in to kiss Eddie goodbye.

Then, just as quickly, he’s out the door and in his car and finally on his way to work.

It isn’t until he’s halfway there that it hits him what he’s just done.

He kissed Eddie Munson.

✨

from this moment on | 3.9k | st | steddie

Steve bought the ring a year after they started dating.

It was too soon, way too soon, even if everything they’d been through made it feel like they’d known each other, like they’d been in each other’s corners for forever. One year was entirely too early to be putting marriage on the table, especially when they were still so young. Not to mention, Steve knew that Eddie had a rocky relationship with the concept thanks to his parents, and, truth be told, so did Steve.

But none of that really mattered. Because Steve was that in love. He was that sure of them.

So he bought the ring. Without hesitation.

And he held onto it, for all this time. He’d had a gut feeling, back in 1988. And eight years later it’s still there. Still there and stronger than ever.

✨

can't hide the way you make us glow | 6.3k | st | steddie

“So,” Wayne finally says and looks between them. He gestures his can from Steve to Eddie and back. “Still just friends, huh?” He deadpans.

Steve chokes on his sip of beer, and a grin cracks across Eddie’s face.

“To the general public of Hawkins, sure,” Eddie responds smoothly, hand absentmindedly rubbing Steve’s back as he recovers.

Wayne narrows his eyes at him. “I ain’t the general public of Hawkins, now, am I?”

Eddie shakes his head. “No, I suppose not.”

When he doesn’t elaborate any further, Wayne lifts his eyebrows expectantly. Out with it, boy they say. He barely refrains from waving his hand in a go on then motion.

“Steve and I… we’re, uh,” Eddie’s smile turns soft around the edges, and his hand goes to Steve’s beside him, drawing it into his lap and lacing their fingers together, “we’re going steady now.”

Or, Wayne finds out that Eddie and Steve are EddieandSteve.

✨

good for my boy | 7.4k | st | steddie

Wayne lets the front door swing shut behind him, rattling and smacking into the frame audibly.

“Jesus, Munson!” A voice rings out — the freezer fiend’s, and definitely not Eddie’s. “Took you god damn long enough!” The head finally pops out of the freezer. “I got tired of waiting and — oh.”

The stranger’s hand slips from the handle and the freezer door thumps shut. As does the stranger’s mouth when he looks right into the face of, not Eddie Munson as expected, but Wayne Munson.

Wayne briefly recognizes him as the Harrington boy.

or, the first time Wayne Munson meets Steve Harrington is a complete accident.

✨

if you have a minute | 10.6k | st | steddie

They pass the cigarette back and forth for a few quiet minutes. And there’s something about Eddie’s presence that’s helping just as much as the nicotine.

Eddie holds the cigarette back out for Steve, blows the smoke out in a smooth, steady stream, and tilts his head. “You working tomorrow?” He asks.

Steve shakes his head. “Not tomorrow. Why?”

Eddie pushes himself off of the wall. “Great,” he declares and grins. “We’re doing something then. You and me. I’m gonna take you somewhere.”

Steve’s face scrunches. “What? Where?”

Eddie tuts and wags his finger. “Nope, not telling you,” he says. “You’ll find out tomorrow. Meet at my place at nine. Don’t be late.”

He doesn’t give Steve a chance to argue or further question it. Just throws a little salute and turns on his heel, disappearing around the corner.

Or, the one where Steve’s anxiety doesn’t get the hint that they defeated the Upside Down, and Eddie knows just how to help.

✨

and stars, and stars, and stars | 1.5k | st | steddie

“What are you even painting?” Steve questions, unable to keep himself from asking. Eddie hadn’t told him his plan when he’d first laid Steve out and gathered his brushes — just instructed Steve to stay still and let him paint, he’d see soon enough. But Steve is curious, and it’s been almost an hour now.

Steve carefully tips his head to the side and presses his cheek against his folded arms, trying his best to catch a glimpse of Eddie where he sits atop the backs of Steve’s thighs, bent over his canvas in concentration. His tongue pokes out of the corner of his mouth, like it always does when he’s focusing hard enough, and a piece of hair dangles against his cheek, escaping the bandana he’d tied it back with.

“I’m painting an essence,” Eddie answers cryptically, and he draws the brush in a broad stroke, low on Steve’s back.

“An essence?” Steve repeats. “An essence of what?”

“An essence of you,” Eddie says simply. The brush dots Steve’s upper back now, light little taps.

Steve doesn’t know what that means, but he’s looking forward to finding out.

✨

i want to hold your hand | 14k | st | steddie

The film isn’t even on Steve’s radar at this point. He couldn’t say what’s happening anymore, but he doesn’t even care. Forget Geena Davis, forget Jeff Goldblum, Steve can’t stop thinking about Eddie Munson, right there next to him, hand inches away from his own.

Steve’s pinky twitches out, like it’s got a mind of its own, towards Eddie’s hand. His heart is in his throat, breath caught behind it, as his pinky hovers, trembling. He could touch him. Wants to touch him. To hook his pinky over Eddie’s, curl them together, maybe even link the rest of their fingers too.

He’s never wanted to hold somebody’s hand so bad before.

✨

promise me nothing, live 'til we die | 2.9k | st | steddie

“You’ve seriously never had your first kiss, though?”

Eddie snorts. “Why do you sound so disbelieving? Come on, Harrington. I don’t exactly have a long line of suitors winding out my front door, vying for my hand or anything. Nobody wants to swap spit with the local freak. They might catch something.” He gives Steve a scrutinizing look. “I’m not like you, King Steve.”

“I’m not worried about catching anything from you,” Steve says.

Eddie tilts his head, perplexed. “Okay… thanks?”

Steve shakes his head. “No, I mean, if no one else wants to, I will.”

“Will what? Line up outside my door?” Eddie scoffs.

“Kiss you,” Steve says and knocks all the air out of Eddie’s chest. “I’ll do it.”

Eddie’s eyes have got to be as big as dinner plates as he blinks at Steve. “What?”

✨

harlow gold | 4k | st | platonic steve & nancy

Nancy is pretty sure that she could talk to Jonathan about it. He knows a little something about being the black sheep, and Nancy doesn’t think he would judge her for it. But they’d only just broken up, and while it was a mutual decision and an amicable split, she doesn’t think it would be fair to turn to him so soon after for advice about the feelings she already has for someone else.

She doesn’t have any girlfriends to talk to either. Robin is kind of the first close female friend she’s had since Barb.

And despite this budding friendship between herself and Robin, Nancy can’t turn to Robin. She’s the type to ask a lot of questions, and she doesn’t give up easily. She’ll push until she gets the answers she’s looking for. It’s not necessarily a bad thing, but Nancy isn’t so sure she’s ready for that kind of inquisition. Not about this.

Which only leaves one person that Nancy trusts enough with something as delicate as this, one person whom she is comfortable enough to confide in:

Steve Harrington.

✨

sloe gin fizzy, do it till you're dizzy | 6.7k | st | steddie

Eddie scoots down on the bed until he’s level with Steve and turns onto his side, shifting closer in the process.

The movement draws Steve, and his head lolls to the side to see what Eddie is up to.

It brings them nearly nose to nose, and Eddie goes a little bit cross-eyed focusing on Steve.

Steve doesn’t flinch away from the closeness. Just breathes and blinks. And then his eyes flicker down to Eddie’s lips and right back up, so quick that Eddie’s hazy brain would have missed it if he hadn’t been paying attention, hadn’t been anticipating it.

Eddie takes it as the invitation it has to be, and slowly, slowly closes the distance. His nose does bump into Steve’s as he enters his space, but he pauses, hesitates with his mouth hovering a hair’s breadth away from Steve’s.

He waits for the rejection, for the brutal shove away, for the disgusted “what the fuck man?”.

But they don’t come.

What does come is Steve’s mouth, pushing forward to press against Eddie’s.

✨

it's my feeling we'll win in the end | 6.3k | st | steddie

Eddie thrusts his hand, fisted around the diploma, into the air like he’s god damn John Bender on the football field, and he lets out a triumphant whoop.

He hears his friends go crazy in their seats again, and when he finds them in the crowd once more he sees that Dustin has climbed up onto his chair, one hand gripping Steve’s shoulder for support while the other is pumping through the air. He’s shouting Eddie’s name, and so is Mike, who is clapping so hard his hands must hurt. Lucas and Max each are holding one corner of a sign spelling out “Eddie the Conqueror” across the center, with hand painted flames licking around the words. It makes Eddie laugh, bright and buoyant, and he shakes the diploma through the air some more.

Eddie’s chest feels tight in the best kind of way as a sudden tidal wave of emotions body slams him, clogging his throat and forcing him to take a sharp, deep breath through his nose. His nostrils flare with it, and a hysterical sort of laugh bubbles up. It’s just, he’s never been this happy before. Never been this proud. Never felt this good.

He’s smiling so big that his cheeks hurt. He feels like he’s walking on fucking air. He did it, he fucking did it.

✨

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