#fic off of a post

[emphistic]

"Why is the laundry still not done?"

Sukuna shrugged, continuing to mindlessly tap away on his phone. He was, without a doubt, playing one of those little games that he downloaded specifically for when he had no WiFi. Block Blast? You couldn't remember.

"I'll do it later," he began—his eyes still glued to his screen, "juste après que je te do."

For extra credit, your boyfriend, Sukuna, once took a French course during college, and now he spends most of his time saying short French phrases to you—on purpose, because he knows you won't be able to know if he's cursing you out, or just shamelessly flirting with you.

"You are such an ass," you groaned. "I reminded you this morning, before lunch, and after lunch; it's six in the afternoon, 'Kuna."

"Ma chérie, relax. It's not good to be so tense all the time," Sukuna teased, finally turning to face you. "Thankfully, I know a way to get rid of your stress."

"I wouldn't be fucking stressed in the first place if it weren't for your laziness, you little—wait. . . What's the French word for 'asshole'?"

"Meilleur et le plus beau petit ami du monde entier."

"That's . . . too many words." You crossed your arms over your chest, amused. "Clearly, you're bluffing."

"Or, clearly, I'm just a man in love," Sukuna said, a sultry look on his face, "—with his beautiful, amazing, smart, and did I mention, sexy, girlfriend. I'm just so moony-eyed these days, and my heart is just so full of you that I cannot even remember to do the laundry."

"Stop trying to seduce me, dickhead."

"Pfft, I am not seducing you; I am simply avouer mon amour to la lumière de ma vie."

You paused, whipping out your phone and doing a quick Google Translate, before saying,

"*Si tu n'arrêtes pas de parler français . . . je vais te mettre une baguette dans le cul."

"Merde," Sukuna gasped, in disbelief, before realizing his mistake. "Fuck. Baby, no, I meant—"

[voidshrub]

Hello Boots n’ Bombs nation I love them so so so much I want to inject them into my bloodstream

[souvenir116]

Q: Tell us how you both met, when did the friendship start?

Virgil: We went on tinder and then we-

Max: Well, in this case, I guess grindr then! Oh my God... we cannot use that!

Virgil: New start, new start!!

Max on grindr:

[its-tea-time-darling]

im sorry, we turned your boyfriend into a mole. yeah and all of tumblr‘s interested in him now. sorry

edit 9/12/23 11.22 CET

and so it begins…

fic1, fic2 @pathsofoak ao3 tag. Mole Poem @thaliaisalesbian . fic by @tourmelion .

update:

ao3 link. please vote for mole scene in most underrated goncharov scene poll

[secretagentspydetectiveninja]

posting this with absolutely no context

[thevioletcaptain]

i genuinely don't care how good a piece of ai generated art or writing looks on the surface. i don't care if it emulates brush strokes and metaphor in a way indistinguishable from those created by a person.

it is not the product of thoughtful creation. it offers no insights into the creator's life or viewpoint. it has no connection to a moment in time or a place or an attitude. it has no perspective. it has no value.

it's empty, it's hollow, and it exists only to generate clicks (and by extension, ad revenue.)

it's just another revolting symptom of the disease that is late stage capitalism, and it fucking sucks.

[megamindsupremacy]

So like, y'all know that popular Star Wars fic trope of Time Traveling Obi-Wan Kenobi where he dies and then wakes up in his 11ish year old body back in the Jedi Temple? You know how usually he wakes up, has a few minutes/hours of confusion, and then goes about trying to act like he was at age 11 while slowly fixing everything wrong with the Jedi Order? Personally I think he would not do that.

I think that Ben "Lived As A Wizard Hermit For Two Decades On Tattooine, Left, And Then Died Immediately" Kenobi would wake up as an eleven-year-old, have a panic attack, attack the nearest adult Jedi while accusing them of Doing Weird Sith Shit To His Brain, fucking flee, only then realize he has time traveled, steal someone's ship, go flying out of the temple to god knows where, continue panicking, crash into a random moon while distracted, nearly die, build a survival camp out of his broken ass ship and eat whatever bugs he can find, get kidnapped by pirates, overthrow said pirates, steal their ship, and then very calmly return to the Jedi temple like nothing happened.

Then and only then do I think he would start trying to act like a normal human person (while also dodging questions such as "what the fuck was that" and "where were you" and "is that a pirate's ship?"), except he'd be bad at it due to having lived as an Insane Wizard Desert Hermit for the past twenty years who has experienced enough trauma and time that he doesn't super well remember the details of his childhood, what with all of the wars and death and wars and such.

His acting convinces nobody, but nobody is sure what exactly to do about All Of That so he's for the most part left alone (after very vehemently refusing sptherapy), all the way up until he catches a glimpse of palpatine out of the corner of his eye and then its On Sight

[libraryofgage]

so i wrote this yesterday and now it's become a whole thing

basically: Steve is actually smart but nobody realized it until he just fixes their various STEM related problems

anyway this is Eddie's very first experience with how smart Steve Harrington actually is

also please don't call me out if my physics explanations are wrong. just suspend your disbelief, i'm begging you lmao

also also, if you see any typos, no you didn't

---

"You're going to fail my class, Munson."

"Gee, no need to sugarcoat it," Eddie mutters, shoving his hands into his pockets and avoiding Miss Chester's gaze. His eyes land on one of the posters behind her desk, a cat hanging off a tree branch. Maybe it would like to trade places.

Miss Chester sighs, looking pointedly at the desk closest to hers. She waits until Eddie sits on it, legs hanging over the edge. "I'm serious," she says. "You're going to fail, Eddie. I don't want you to, but there's just some...disconnect happening here."

He appreciates that she's not totally blaming him. Most of Eddie's other teachers would've been berating him for his laziness by now. This, among other things, is why Eddie likes her class even if he can't wrap his head around physics at all. "I don't know, Miss. It just doesn't make sense."

"So I'm noticing." Miss Chester leans back in her chair, her finger tapping against her desk. Eddie immediately recognizes it as the drum beat from a KISS song. "You know you'll probably be held back if you fail, right?"

"Not the first time."

Miss Chester waves off his words, looking deep in thought. "What do you think about tutoring? I think you'll do better in a one-on-one setting. If you understand the concepts better, I can start grading you based on the work you do with the tutor."

"It wouldn't be you?" Eddie asks, frowning slightly. He's not sure he wants some random geek tutoring him. Not that he has anything against geeks, of course, but he's never known one to talk in a way he can understand. They get all...technical and Eddie's eyes glaze over whenever he overhears their conversations.

"No, I don't have the time. But don't worry," Miss Chester says, smiling reassuringly before pulling her roster close and looking down the list. "The student I have in mind probably knows more than me, if I'm being honest. He should be able to answer any question you have."

"What student?"

"His name is Steve."

Of course, Eddie immediately thinks of that Steve. King Steve. Steve "The Hair" Harrington with his blinding smile that's always looked a little strained in Eddie's opinion.

He then dismisses Steve Harrington as a possibility and reviews the other kids named Steve at Hawkins High. There's Steve Paulson, Steve Meyers, and Steve Barns. Maybe it's Barns? He's the only one that Eddie could imagine being somewhat good at physics.

"Are you open to tutoring?" Miss Chester asks. "For one session, at least?"

"Yeah, sure, one session. Won't help, though."

Miss Chester smiles like she knows something Eddie doesn't. Which, to be fair, she does. She knows a lot more than Eddie in terms of physics, at least. "I'll set it up. Just come by tomorrow after school."

--------

On his first day at Hawkins High, Steve realized two things.

One, his parents weren't kidding when they'd said public school would be vastly different from the private group tutoring he'd received up to that point.

Two, if he wanted to have a good high school experience, he needed to be cool. And being cool, it seemed, meant not being smart. He didn't need to be dumb, but he couldn't breeze through his classes, either.

He's done a good job of it so far. He's bored beyond reason in most of his classes, sure, but he's also popular. Nobody bothers him or tries to copy off of him, and it's great. He can even swallow down the weird surge of frustration and annoyance and guilt whenever his classmates assume he's too dumb to be a good project partner, or when his parents ask why he isn't enrolled in AP classes, or when his teachers give him confused looks after he aces tests for a unit he seemingly didn't pay attention to.

Anyway, he almost rejected Miss Chester's request to tutor a student from a different class period. He was just about to say he didn't have the time when she leveled him with a look so profoundly hopeful that he just couldn't. So, Steve said yes and now he's hesitating outside the physics classroom.

What if the student inside uses this against him? Steve thinks he could play it off, maybe convince his friends that the kid is lying, but he's not sure. Nothing dire would happen, but Steve would have to reorient himself to a new place on the social ladder, and that sounds exhausting.

"Just get it over with," he mumbles. Then, before he can chicken out and just leave the other student hanging, he opens the door and steps into the classroom.

Miss Chester isn't there. Steve knew she wouldn't be. She'd said something about a department meeting that would take her time but leave them with the classroom to themselves.

The only other person in the room is Eddie Munson, bent over a notebook and furiously scribbling on the page. He looks up when the door opens and freezes at the sight of Steve. They stare at each other for a few seconds before Eddie breaks the silence by asking, "What, get lost on your way to the locker room, Harrington?"

Steve blinks, frowns slightly, and takes a deep breath. Okay. Fine. Eddie Munson it is. "Nope. Miss Chester asked me to tutor you," he says, because that's the only reason another student would be in this room after school has let out.

Eddie laughs. He nearly falls out of his chair with how hard he laughs. He's wheezing and clutching the edges of the desk by the time Steve moves another desk to face him and sits down across from him. "Are you done, Munson?" he asks.

"Holy shit, you're serious," Eddie says, his voice slightly strained and his face red from laughing. "No fucking way Steve Harrington is here to tutor me in physics. You probably don't even know what two plus two is!"

"It's four. Do you know what 12 times 40 is?" Steve asks, watching as Eddie blinks.

"I'm not a fucking calculator, man."

"No, you're not. It's 480, by the way."

"You could've just memorized that."

Steve sighs and reaches into his bag, digging around some before pulling a calculator out. He places it on Eddie's desk and says, "Ask me something."

Eddie looks at him like he's grown a second head but still pulls the calculator closer. "1,239 plus 378."

"1,617."

He watches Eddie use the calculator, feeling smug when his face twists into confused disbelief. He then puts the calculator down and frowns at Steve. "So you can add, big whoop. Doesn't mean you can teach me shit about physics."

"Won't know until we try," Steve says, resting his elbow on the desk and propping his chin in his palm. "So, what don't you get?"

"...All of it. Just assume I don't know shit."

"You don't know Newton's laws?"

Eddie snorts, looking back down at his notebook. "There's that motion one and the reaction one," he says.

"Right. Newton's first law and his third. What about the second?"

"It's just...some equation or some shit."

Okay, Steve is starting to get an idea of where things stand. He thinks for a moment before asking, "What kind of stuff do you like?"

"What?"

"What do you like?"

Eddie looks so shocked by the question that he doesn't really think before answering, "Heavy metal. And, uh, D&D, too."

Steve knows heavy metal is music, and he could work with that but the D&D Eddie mentioned might be better. "What does it involve? The D&D?"

"It's a fantasy role playing game. Like, using your imagination to go on adventures with friends and stuff. Needs dice to work."

Oh. Perfect. "Do you have dice with you?" Steve asks. After another brief pause, Eddie nods and pulls one out of his pocket. He passes it over and watches as Steve turns it between his fingers. "Oh, an icosahedron. Cool."

"A what?"

"Icosahedron," Steve says, looking at Eddie. "It just means a twenty-sided polyhedron."

Eddie still looks confused, and Steve is about to explain it again when Eddie says, "Just call it a D20, dude."

"Oh. Sure. Anyway, let's use this," Steve says, rolling it between his fingers before letting it clatter to the desk. It bounces a few times before settling, a 17 facing up. "Do you know what made it stop moving?"

"The desk. I'm not an idiot, Harrington."

"I didn't say you were, Munson," Steve replies, leaning back slightly. "Just...yes, the desk stopped it. This is Newton's first law. If the desk wasn't there, it would have kept falling until it hit the floor. It stopped bouncing because it lost power each time it hit the desk. An object, the D20, will stay in motion, falling, unless acted upon by another force, the desk."

"That...kinda made sense," Eddie says, blinking a few times.

"Great!" Steve says, unable to help the bright smile at knowing Eddie understood him. "Okay, for the second law, the equation is mass times acceleration equals force. Basically, the movement of an object depends on how much it weighs and how much force you apply."

"Aaaand ya lost me," Eddie says.

"Okay, uh, you fight things in that game, right?"

"Yeah, kind of the whole point."

"Right, yeah, and the stuff you fight comes in different sizes, right?"

"Well, an orc isn't gonna be as big as a dragon, is it?"

Steve isn't really sure what an orc is, but he nods anyway. "Right. So if you want to move a dragon, you need to land a stronger hit than you would need for an orc."

"Duh. You're not gonna fell a dragon with a basic cantrip."

"Not sure what that is, but yeah. For this example, moving, or defeating, an object, or a dragon that weighs more than an orc, relies on how much force you apply, which is the strength you use."

"Oh. So, because an orc weighs less, I don't need as much force to defeat it," Eddie says, grinning as he fidgets with his pencil. "This doesn't really sound like math, though."

Steve shrugs. "We'll get to the math part later. Right now is basics. You need to understand those to do more complicated stuff. So, the third law, this is the action-reaction law. Music might be better for it. What happens when you strum a guitar?"

"It...makes a sound. Because it's an instrument."

"Well, yeah, but do you understand how the sound is being made."

"By...strumming it?"

"Yeah, that's part of it. Sounds are vibrations in the air that we can understand. If you touch your throat while talking, you'll feel your voice box, your larynx, vibrate to make the sound of you talking."

He waits as Eddie does exactly that. While holding his fingers to his throat, Eddie says, "Didn't know it was called a larynx. Oh, fuck, yeah, there are vibrations."

Steve nods, waiting patiently as Eddie hums for a few minutes before looking back at him. "So, vibrations. Instruments make sound because playing them causes vibrations. When you strum a guitar, the strings rapidly move back and forth, and that movement is translated into notes."

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but yeah, I'm following you."

"So, the action of strumming a guitar creates the reaction of the strings vibrating. That action of the strings vibrating creates the reaction of air rippling, and those ripples create the reaction of audible noise. Did that make sense?"

"Yeah. It did," Eddie says, his voice soft as he stares at Steve like he's really seeing him for the first time.

Steve shifts uncomfortably, unused to this aspect of himself being known so well by someone at school. He's almost tempted to end things now and apologize to Miss Chester for walking out halfway through a tutoring session. Steve is practicing the apology in his head when Eddie says, "Hey, by the way, sorry for earlier."

"What?" Steve asks, trying to blink away his confusion and failing.

"You know, earlier, when I laughed at you? Pretty shitty of me to do. So, yeah, I'm sorry."

"Oh." Steve stares at Eddie for a few seconds before his shoulders relax. "It's fine. I'm not exactly known for being smart."

"Why not?"

"It's just...easier to let people think I'm dumb. Most of our classmates look at me and think I'm just, you know, a typical jock. They don't expect more from me than that, and I don't expect them to look any deeper."

"Does anyone else know, though?"

"My parents and the teachers. And you."

"Well, don't worry, big boy. Your secret's safe with me."

"Big boy?"

"Don't like it? Would you prefer Stevie?" Eddie asks, grinning as he leans in and exaggeratedly waggles his eyebrows at Steve.

Steve can't help snorting at the sight. "Whatever. Just call me what you want, Eddie," he says.

He tries to ignore the weird swooping in his stomach when Eddie's smile gets wider and he says, "You better not regret it, Stevie."

[quailsprout]

starlight

[frostedpuffs]

does anyone else ever feel like they never Fit In fandom spaces like. sure i create stuff SOMETIMES but i feel like such an outsider in the fandom and idk why asdkfsakdf

[irenespring]

Really I think nothing shouts "my first Presidential election as a politically active person was 2016" more than the fact that when I feel hope and excitement for the future (possible President Harris) for more than five minutes I immediately get a crushing, all-consuming anxiety of "feeling this positive emotion now is going to make it so much worse when the worst thing possible happens" to the extent that I'll probably need my break-glass-in-case-of-emergency anxiety medication.

[etheralisi]

I’ve been thinking about in-universe media so. Heh. Why don’t we tumblrify the ending of the rottmnt movie

Update: here’s part 2 and 3+3.5

💫silent_swirl Follow

Nice knowing you guys

🥐ittybittyypastrypuff Follow

Wtf??? Where do you live?

⏱️lordoftimeandspace Follow

You can’t just ask someone where they live

💰rhymeonthedime Follow

op must be from new york. i’ve been trying to text my sister who lives there all day and when she finally gets back to me, it’s to send me a photo of her being chased by some weird??? fleshy???? car? i think the pink stuff was growing inside of it?

🥐ittybittyypastrypuff Follow

The hell is happening in your city?

🔥guess-ill-die Follow

The end of the world

🐛lugbugg Follow

🎙️do-re-mimimi Follow

Where else would you learn that?

14,056 notes

🚀jj-sails Follow

Alien invasion???? This is not how Jupiter Jim said it would go

267 notes

🦙dramallama Follow

So who had alien invasion on the 2020 apocalypse bingo card

🤠see-you-in-space-cowboy Follow

At this point no one is surprised 

#give it two months. somehow something will find a way to top this

12,435 notes

⚔️ bluejitsu Follow

I lived bitch

🌑faded-moonlight Follow

Context?

⚔️ bluejitsu Follow

No ✨

43 notes

🎨 asprinkleofrazzmatazz Follow

Sorry everyone  ::> ︵ <:: No more art until my hands are healed up. Doctor’s orders

🧸bear-with-me Follow

Are you okay? 🥺🥺💞

🎨 asprinkleofrazzmatazz Follow

♡ ♡ Achy. But I realllllly want to drawwwwwww

#I have so many ideas right now #currently trying and failing to draw with feet #but I am determined 

226 notes

👾aliens-among-us Follow

Time to storm Area 51 again

#they can’t stop all of us #look I just want to see aliens in person okay #if they can’t invade my city then what’s the point #I know they have to be keeping some of those pink blobs in there

67 notes

🟦 outoftouchoutoftime Follow

Hello

🏒 hockeyordeath Follow

JUNIOR! HELLO

I SEE YOU HAVE DISCOVERED THE INTERNET

🟦 outoftouchoutoftime Follow

It’s Sensei’s fault

⚔️ bluejitsu Follow

#I?????? #don’t just look at me it was purple too

5 notes

🛸 atomiclass9000 Follow

I smell the scent of betrayal in the air.

#not science posting #blue I’m looking at you

77 notes

✍️writingprompts Follow

You are a time traveller sent back to stop the apocalypse before it ever began. Only problem is: you aren’t sent back far enough.

🟦 outoftouchoutoftime Follow

Relatable 

💥zipzapzoom Follow

Umm???

4,522 notes

🕜has-lou-jitsu-been-found-yet Follow

Day 3667 of me posting: no

🪽angelofhell Follow

Wow this blog is dedicated

101 notes

🐝 dizzee-bee Follow

Why do aliens always invade NYC? What’s so special? Why don’t they ever invade Las Vegas huh? What about Boston? Where are my aliens in D.C? So many cities and you’re telling me they chose New York? If aliens really did invade I bet you they wouldn’t even come near it

🐝 dizzee-bee Follow

This post… aged

🐾 ultimate_cataclysm  Follow

Pay up op

1,356 notes

🦊redfoxtrott Follow

there’s something weird going on in this city. remember that time at the stadium? suddenly it’s a free for all on world domination i swear

🪩glitter-jam Follow

I thought the whole stadium thing was a publicity stunt

👋saysayonara Follow

I thought that was a rogue cosplayer 

#for real though. What even happened to them?

11,388 notes

🌎yes-the-earth-is-flat Follow

Wow. So tumblr thinks it can gaslight me int thinking aliens exits huh? Well think again

🌎yes-the-earth-is-flat Follow

Stop bringing up my username. You know im right

2,488 notes

🏒 hockeyordeath Follow

NO, MY KEYBOARD IS NOT STUCK LIKE THIS. EVERY LETTER I TYPE IS AS IT IS MEANT TO BE SAID. WITH PURPOSE AND VOLUME.

🏒 hockeyordeath Follow

IF MY USERNAME COULD BE IN CAPITALS YOU KNOW IT WOULD BE 

🛸 atomiclass9000 Follow

I can help with this

#give me one minute and some flavourless juice

122 notes

💃disco-girl Follow

My apartment was almost flattened by a giant freakin robot a few years back. And now aliens????? I’m moving

#guys I’m just. So. Done with all of this

67 notes

🎙️do-re-mimimi Follow

So did the aliens just up and leave? What’s the story here?

🎩man-with-a-top-hat Follow

There have been various sightings of lights across the sky. I have not been able to find any reliable sources on the cause, but the general consensus is the lights pushed the aliens back where they came from. 

🦇batarang Follow

This photo of some person swinging around the city has been making rounds on twitter

🐚seashellsshesells Follow

Pretty lights and vigilantes? 

5,993 notes

❌cant-think-of-a-user Follow

So what are we calling these aliens? They need a cool, alien sounding name ‘cuz all I’ve been seeing around is ‘land squids’, ‘brain goop’ and shoutout to that one discord user who used the words ‘pink gelatinous parsnip’ to describe them.

👊punch-moodi Follow

Have they ever seen a parsnip before?

🤏deadly-nerve-pinch Follow

What about Utroms? They kinda look like the aliens from Jupiter Jim’s Last Trip to the Moon 9

❌cant-think-of-a-user Follow

Isn’t your fandom super dead?

🤏deadly-nerve-pinch Follow

Say that to our 80+ movies. Your faves could never 

🚀jj-sails Follow

Fandom still going strong 💪 

🍎almond-apple Follow

Why does everyone keep on calling them aliens? Are we sure they’re not just failed government test subjects? Haven’t there been mutant sightings in NYC before?

❌cant-think-of-a-user Follow

Sorry, mutants???

👾aliens-among-us Follow

Nah it’s defo aliens

❌cant-think-of-a-user Follow

#so far 3 votes for Utroms and 22 for parsnips #sigh

3,751 notes

🫎duck-duck-moose Follow

Children are terrifying 

💤needsomezzzzzzz Follow

Agreed. But I feel like there’s a story here

🫎duck-duck-moose Follow

Was walking back from work, and I was like nearly home right? I turn a corner and there: a sea of cheering girl scouts. Who are they cheering on you ask? Their… cult (?) leader? Tearing one of those aliens apart with her bare hands. And the kids are just laughing and some are even joining in? They must have nerves of steel

💤needsomezzzzzzz Follow

Woah

🌽 sherlock_corn Follow

@  HOCKEYORDEATH Hey look at this

372 notes

💀outoftouchoutoftime Follow

Set a profile picture because apparently everyone’s blocking me thinking I’m a bot?

🥊 red_hotsoup Follow

Sorry CJ

9 notes

asprinkleofrazzmatazz said: Spread the sunshine ☀️ Post this in at least 5 ask boxes to let them know they make you happy

🥊 red_hotsoup Follow

Aww, hey Orange

⚔️ bluejitsu Follow

Hey, where’s my ask

⚔️ bluejitsu Follow

Orange?

⚔️ bluejitsu Follow

Oh 

10 notes

asprinkleofrazzmatazz said: Spread the bugs 🪳 Post this in at least 5 ask boxes to let them know they’re bugging you

⚔️ bluejitsu Follow

Two can play at this game

🎨asprinkleofrazzmatazz Follow

Jk ☀️☀️☀️

29 notes

🛸 atomiclass9000 Follow

I remember the good old days on tumblr. Back when my brothers didn’t know the name of my account. Back when they didn’t bug me in my inbox

🍞shortbutsweetbread Follow

Then make another one?

🛸 atomiclass9000 Follow

Gasp. And leave behind a username such as this? I’m attached.

🌽 sherlock_corn Follow

What about your sister?

🛸 atomiclass9000 Follow

You’re fine

⚔️ bluejitsu Follow

Favouritism 

128 notes

🐱sophinophie Follow

Whoever you heroes are

Thank you.  

❤️🧡💜💙

#I don’t know how you did it. Or what you even look like #but one thing is for sure and that’s that you are heroes 

189 notes

[superbat-love]

Teacher: Hello Mr Kent, this is Mrs Smith speaking, Jon’s teacher. Will you be picking your son up from school?

Clark: Give me half an hour. I’m just…caught up in something urgent right now. [someone screeching in the background]

Teacher: [alarmed] What was that? Mr Kent, is everything all right?

Bruce: Oh, he’s probably dealing with that nasty pest problem. [takes the phone and puts it on speaker] Clark, it’s me. Do you need help?

Clark: No, I can handle it! Take that! [more screeching in the background] Bruce, there’s more of them! The spiders are pushing us back!

Bruce: Just as I suspected, a spider infestation. [sounds of explosions on the phone] Large spiders. HUGE. Well, you know how big spiders can get in Kansas.

Clark: [incomprehensible yelling]

Bruce: Hang in there Clark, I’ll call the pest control. Jon can stay at the manor tonight with Damian, don’t worry about it. [ends the call and hands the phone back to the teacher] Come on, boys. Good day, Mrs Smith.

Jon & Damian: Bye Mrs Smith!

Teacher: [looking shell-shocked]

Superbat Family Fics

[museaway]

"why is all the fic in my fandom so short"

maybe the fic writers are tired. maybe they prefer short fiction. maybe they have pets and kids and school or full-time jobs and can't devote 24/7 to writing fanfiction. maybe they write on their phones while commuting and shorter is easier to manage. maybe they write for zines, which by nature have limited word counts. maybe they write slowly. maybe their motivation comes in bursts and they churn out oneshots when that happens. maybe they can't find someone to brainstorm with so they never wrote the fic at all. maybe the last time they posted a longfic they didn't get any comments, or a reader only said "write more" and they gave up. maybe the fandom is toxic. maybe they saw a passive aggressive tumblr post at 5:26am.

[sp0o0kylights]

Part One

The drive's short one. 

Steve gets out of his car, opening the passenger door for Chrissy and escorting her up to the house, quietly envisioning what Jason would look like if a real monster got him.

What would he say, staring down the crazy, five-starred head, filled with teeth and drool? Would he turn back? Or run?

(Steve swears he doesn't take great pleasure in imagining Carver getting eaten, but he'll admit to taking a little.)  

"Chrissy do you have any idea--oh." Mrs. Cunningham startles, grasping her robe at the front as she spots Steve standing next to her daughter.  

"Hi Miss Cunningham." He says.

"Hello." She says suspiciously. "And who are you?"

"I'm Steve Harrington, ma'am." He watches as her mother straightens immediately at his name, and sinks right into the ol' Harrington charm, knowing instantly it will work. "I know you were expecting Jason, but I'm afraid he wasn't able to drive Chrissy home." 

"Oh, Steve! It's so late I almost didn't recognize you." She titters, suspicion gone. "Your mother and I are on the same charity board." 

Of course they were.

"I thought you were dating that nice Nancy girl." She says with a squint that mimics Chrissy's, because even in the midst of a crisis he can't escape the gossip that is Hawkins upper echelon. 

"Nance is waiting in the car." Steve lies smoothly. "I just wanted to make sure Chrissy got home safe." 

"What happened?" Chrissy's father appears, ushering them both in while blatantly peering around them, eyes sweeping the street before closing the door.

Steve recognizes the move. He's checking for nosy neighbors. 

"Jason and I broke up." Chrissy admits.

"What?" 

"We..." She falters in front of her parents. 

"What happened to Jason?" Her father asks, tuning back in once they're safely away from peering eyes.

"I'm afraid Jason and some of his friends brought beer to the party." Steve steps in to explain.  

"Oh Chrissy, it's a high school party. That's no reason to break up with him." Her mother fusses, face flushing in embarrassment. Her eyes dart from her daughter to Steve and back, and Steve knows he needs to start damage control. 

If he plays it right he can burn Jason while he's at it. 

"He was horrible, mom. Just awful." Chrissy says, but Steve can tell she's shrinking under her mothers gaze. 

"He drank quite a lot, Miss Cunningham." With a theatrical wince, Steve turns to face Chrissy's dad, lowers his voice and says "I'm going to have to talk to Coach about it." 

He gets the intended response, which is a raised eyebrow. "That bad, huh?" 

Steve nods once, painting a pained smile on his face. "He made a real fool of himself tonight, Sir. The basketball team has a reputation to uphold." 

"Oh." Mrs. Cunningham says, hand fluttering in front of her face. "I never would have thought…"

"He's normally a good guy. I don't know what got into him." Steve has them both eating out of the palm of his hand, attention neatly off Chrissy and onto the story he's feeding them. 

Its worth it to see her shoulders relax. 

"I couldn't let him take Chrissy home in the state he was in Sir, and he got very…" 

Steve pauses. 

Fills his voice with tempered disappointment, channeling his dad. "Belligerent. Said some nasty things."  

"Really?" Mr. Cunningham says, with a low whistle, and Steve knows by his tone alone that he's bought in.

Hook, line, sinker.

Steve nods once. "I have to get back to my girlfriend, but Chrissy'" He turns earnestly here, to let her know he's not faking this next bit. "Let me know if Jason bothers you at school. I'll set him straight again if I have to." 

"Thank you Steve." Mr. Cunningham says, as Chrissy's mom hustles her daughter towards the kitchen. 

Steve shakes his hand, then waves at Crissy as she calls her own thank you over her shoulder, before disappearing out the door and back to his car.

The same one where Nancy very much isn't. 

That's a problem for tomorrow Steve.

xXx

Tomorrow Steve gets into an argument with Nancy. 

She can't recall that Jonathan took her home, or that he's bullshit, their whole relationship, bullshit--

But she also can't tell him she loves him.

So Steve snaps at her. Storms off.

 Play’s more basketball.

It takes less than two hours for him to get mopey and another three for him to spiral into deciding he was wrong somehow.

That's what his mom said all the time anyway, wasn't it? The man's always wrong Steven, and he's the man here so…

He gets flowers, chocolates, and fucking waylaid (by Dustin Henderson with his Grow a Monster) and things go sideways from there.

 Train tracks and a junkyard and demodogs make time speed up. An encounter with Billy and a dinner plate causes Steve's recollection of the evening to be fuzzy. 

He just knows that in the middle of dodging death, he has the realization that Nance wants to break up with him.

That he should let her. 

Even if it hurts, even if he doesn't want to. 

She wants to be let go.

So Steve does. He respects her, and when he has a moment after its all over, he tells her to go with Jonathan.

(At least he permanently gets the squirts out if this. Or at least everyone but Mike.

Even if most of them are shitheads and one of them's Hargrove's step sister.

It's--something.

But when Dustin keeps pestering him, demanding Steve drive him all over Hawkins and then drags him to the movies, well.

It might be the best something Steve's had in his life so far. )

xXx

"Oh shit. Is that from Caver?" Eddie asks, popping up near Steve's car like the clown in a jack in the box. 

"Carver can't hit for shit. This was Hargrove." Steve replies, attempting an eyeroll before remembering that his entire face is a bruise. 

One, giant, never ending bruise. 

"I guess his step sister gave him the slip to come hang out with these kids I watch sometimes. I didn't know she wasn't supposed to be there." Steve shrugs, because it's the technical truth. 

If you turn it sideways and squint anyway. 

"Asshole tried to threaten the kid Max is into by slamming him into a wall and screaming shit, so I stepped in, and--" He waves at his face. 

The same one he's already getting looks for. 

"I was winning." Steve sighs theatrically. "He broke a plate over my head."

The story seemed to freeze Eddie but he recovers with a quick shake of his head. 

"You poor thing." He tuts. "Let me guess--you were more worried about the hair than the wound?" 

Eddie's hands flutter like he's going to touch Steve's head but he seems to contain himself at the last minute.

The hospital threatened to buzz it for stitches." Steve says darkly, playing into the bit. 

(He had not gone to a hospital. 

None of them had.)  

"What would our King be without his crown of hair?" Eddie laments, in a falsetto that was half insult half oddly sincere. It was jarring in that it was hard to get a read on, but the more Steve was around the guy the less it seemed malicious and the more it came off  as just….goofy.

Eddie Munson, Steve decided, was not a freak.

 He was a dorky little weirdo, just like all the other kids Steve now hung out with. 

Just older, and with slightly better hair. 

"Hey Eddie." Another boy calls out, approaching cautiously. 

He's got a leather jacket on, and if Steve thinks hard enough he can sort of conjure up a memory of the guy at Eddie's lunch table, throwing a piece of bread at a pale sophomore decked out in plaid. "You good man?" 

"Yeah Jeff, just checkin' in on the Hair here." Eddie sticks a thumb towards Steve, who raises his hand and waves. 

The falsetto comes back, somehow higher as the older boy swoons over Steves arm. "Soothing his poor soul after that brute Hargrove almost killed him." 

"Has anyone ever told you you're a lot like Bugs Bunny?" Steve asks, the thought leaving his mouth the instant he had it.

(He doesn't care, it's a legitimate question.) 

It has the effect of making Munson look downright chuffed. "I have actually, but only by my Uncle." 

"Why are you checking in?" Jeff interrupts, before seeming to realize he said it out loud. " Ah, I mean--"

"Oh he didn't tell you?" Steve says, as casually as he can muster. "Eddie claimed me and Chrissy at a party last weekend." 

See Munson? Two people could play the weird bit game. 

They've attracted more of Eddie's friends now, two more boys in leather jackets edging closer like frightened deer. 

(One of which is the aforementioned younger man Jeff threw bread at, and Steve vaguely thinks the guy's name starts with a g.) 

"Apparently we're his minions now." Steve tells Jeff in a rather put upon manner. 

"It was just you, the fair maiden chose otherwise." Eddie counters dismissively, voice dropping down low. 

Steve snorts. Hums a sarcastic; "Like you'd let us choose." 

Eddie finally abandons whatever voice that was supposed to be (a villain, Steve thinks, and wonders if it hurts Eddies throat to drop from a false high to a deep low that quickly.)  to say:

 "Mock me all you like, Harrington, but you can't deny the bit worked." 

Steve automatically went for another eye roll, and gets a flash of pain for it. "Who said I was mocking you, you dork? Just stating facts." 

Yet again, Eddie reacts weird to the comment. He looks almost bashful for a second, before he recovers, tugging his hair in front of his face as he plays with it.

The bell rings once in warning, and Steve makes a face towards the doors. 

"I gotta go, Mrs Clicks out to fail me. See you around, Eddie. Jeff." The way his eyes are bruised up he can't quite make out the face Jeff makes at that, but Steve's pretty sure the guys mouth was open. 

"She's a nasty one, my minion, best stay on your toes around her." Eddie calls, and Steve waves a hand in the air to show he heard. 

"What just happened?" Jeff asks, far too loudly for how close Steve still is. 

It makes him chuckle a bit, even as one of the other guys says something in a far quieter voice that has Munson squawking and flapping his arms like a bird. 

The winding little feelings in his chest squeeze his heart, and Steve shakes his head, refusing to be fond of Eddie Munson. 

xXx

College rejection letters come in, one after the another.

Steve could have made it into a few schools he's certain, except he hadn't really applied to any.

Not that any college other than Penn Hurst mattered. His dad wanted him to be a legacy, come hell or high water.

Steve's punishment was hand picked by his parents, and he gets the sailor outfit his new minimum wage job requires is supposed to be a part of it--that his dad made him apply because it was the most embarrassing thing he could think to subject Steve too-- but honestly? 

It's not that bad. 

Not even with Robin, the manager he met yesterday, and who positively, completely and totally, hates Steve’s guts.  

He figures he has time to win her over. 

All the time in the world, now that demons aren't trying to eat his, or any of the kid's, faces. He can focus on the small things. Build himself back up.

Figure out the person he wants to be, now that he's no longer King Steve. 

It’s the thought that kept him from attending any graduation parties. To go felt like backsliding into old habits. 

‘If the kids--if it comes back again--’ 

Getting drunk at night in a random house seemed almost irresponsible.

Particularly not with people Steve has history with, without anyone he really cares about being present. Certainly not Nance and Jonathan, who he wishes he didn’t know are at some end-of-year game night one of Nancy’s friends is hosting. 

(Steve can’t think about that for a number of reasons. 

When he does--because of course he does-- he makes sure to focus on the weirdness that is Jonathan Byers being someone he cares about, instead of the fact he can’t seem to kill his love for Nancy. 

Or that he's horrifically jealous of their relationship. 

That the best sleep he had ever had was between them, two nights after the lab, when they crammed themselves into Jonathan's bed because they all couldn't quite believe it was over.

That night had been so incredibly weird, but grouping together felt safer. Smarter.

Better.

Not in a way Steve wants to put into words. 

Not in a way he wants to confront at all.) 

His parents hadn’t been able to make it home to watch him walk at his graduation--his father landing a last minute meeting with some important person or other. 

Faked apologies were given, money transferred, and Steve, not wanting to sit in his too-huge house, had meandered to Family Video. 

Tried to forget his father’s cold voice in the background of his mother’s call, loudly announcing he’d have made it a priority to see Steve graduate-- if he’d gotten into Penn Hurst. 

Steve just shakes his head. Pushes those thoughts into the back of his head, into the same place all his other weird thoughts live.

The glare he gets from the tall, pimple-ridden guy working the rental counter was expected.

Chrissy Cunningham, was not. 

"I thought you’d be at one of the parties.” He tells her, when he turns down the romance aisle and finds her staring blankly at a shelf. 

She startles, before recognition flits over her face and a warm smile is directed his way. 

“I'm honestly not a fan of parties." She confides in him, hand clutching a tape in her hands."Not those kinds, anyway.” 

"More slumber parties, less keg stands your speed?" Steve guessed, blatantly turning his head sideways in order to read the title.

She awards him with a wider smile. "Exactly." 

"Chrissy Cunningham. Are you renting Jaws?" He teases, leaning in just a touch.

She flushes, but turns and squares up to him. Steve's delighted to see it. 

"Why yes I am. I'll do you one better and even admit it's one of my favorite movies." 

Steve grins at her, and sees the way she lights up on response, eyes bright. 

This is the Chrissy that Carver had tried to kill. The strength and pure fun that radiates off her enhances the beauty she has to something almost otherworldly. 

Steve has seen enough beauty in his life to recognize when it will stay. That Chrissy wil one day be 80 years old, with gray hair and knit sweaters, and she'll still be able to light up a room. 

"Like sharks killing people that much huh?” He teases. And it’s easy, slipping into this part of himself around her. The part he’s been trying to get back. 

The confidence that he walked with, before monsters crawled out of the ground, and Nancy put a hole in his heart.

"I'll let you in on a secret. ." Chrissy leans in, dropping her voice low enough that Steve has to lean in a bit too to hear. "My favorite character is the shark." 

Steve playfully gapes at her, and for the first  time in a long time, feels like things will be okay. 

He’ll be okay.

He won’t be King Steve. He’s not Nancy's Boyfriend Steve either--but someone else. Himself.

A Steve who exists outside of Hawkins High, outside his family name. 

He likes it.

"I told you that was his car. Steve!" A too familiar voice calls and Steve can't mask the despair that hits him as he turns to his (now least) favorite shithead, whose storming through Family Video’s doors. 

"Dustin." He identifies, with an edge to his voice he can only pray Chrissy doesn't pick up on. "Other brats. What are you doing?" 

Mike stands stubbornly at Dustin's right, Lucas nervous at his left. 

Will Byers is situated next to Mike but Steve's not as familiar with him, and has no idea how to interpret the kid. 

If he had to guess based on the face he’s being sent, Will’s more nervous then the rest--but equally determined. 

(This does not make Steve feel better. It in fact, somewhat convinces them they’ve run headfirst back into trouble.) 

"Well we were going to go to Lucas’s, but now, we're bumming a ride from you!" 

"I'm busy." He says flatly. 

"Ste~eeeve!" 

"I didn't know you had a brother." Chrissy says, hand covering her mouth. 

Looking back at her, Steve's pretty sure she's trying to physically hold back laughter. 

If one could shoot lasers with their eyes, Steve would be nailing Dustin for ruining--whatever it was that was happening here. 

"He's a rescue" Steve says flatly. "It’s not working out though. We're planning on returning him to the shelter.” 

"Wow Steve." Dustin returns, offended. "First of all, if anyone's rescuing anyone I rescued you, or did you suddenly forget that you show up to family dinner every Thursday at my house like a sad orpha--mmpphh!" 

‘Mmpphh’ because Steve had taken several long strides across the store to smack his hand over Dustin's mouth. 

"Sorry Chrissy, it would appear the asshole children I am paid to babysit escaped whoever is supposed to be watching them." He shakes Dustins head, in lue of strangling him. “Hit me up later we’ll discuss the shark’s best kills.” 

“Will do.” Chrissy says, as Steve begins the process of shoving his four smaller friends out the door. “Drive safe!” 

“No you don’t, and you’re gonna prove it by swinging through McDonalds for us.” Dustin sing-songs, swinging himself into the passenger side of the Beemer. 

“You assholes owe me, big time.” Steve hisses, as Lucas and Mike instantly begin making kissy faces the second they’re out into the parking lot. "I had plans tonight!"

“Do you have McDonalds money?” Steve asks, only to immediately wince at himself because fuck did he just sound like a soccer mom. 

“I have money I took out of my mom’s wallet.” Mike says as he settles into the car with his friends.

“Fine.” Steve sighs in defeat, starting the car. 

He determinedly does not ask if the idiots walked here, because there is a suspicious lack of bicycles, if only because he hit his mom quota for the day and Steve refuses to say anything else that might edge out his cool persona.

The one he swears he still has.

Supposedly. 

("Does my mom really pay you to watch me?" Dustin asks a while later, when the other brats are distracted. His voice is painfully honest, and softer than it normally is. 

"In food, yes." Steve says, because he’s not that much of an asshole--and maybe, because Dustin is truly his only friend right now.

Steve honestly looks forward to those Thursday dinners, helping Ma Henderson and having her fuss over him in a way his parents never had. 

In a way no one ever had. 

Dustin lands a solid kick to his ankle, making Steve curse. "That's not payment you ass!"

"Ow, God Dustin--" 

"Just admit you're my actual friend, you dick!" 

"Language! I swear your mom stole you from wolves, you animal--" Steve swatted at him. 

Maybe, possibly later, he will go on to admit that yes, Dustin is his friend. 

He will even agree to making up a stupid handshake for it. 

It involves lightsabers and gore at least, which Steve insists is very cool.)

[keferon]

*clasps your shoulders gently and looks you straight in the eye*

Keferon. Please read Ninth by Kyn on AO3. I think you would love it very much. It has a large chapter count, but don't be intimidated, it's very easy to get into. It is currently unfinished, but is being updated regularly.

You are the seventh person that recommended this fic to me so ahahahaha yeah

I’m doing great Help I hate some parts of it but I love the other parts I’m spinning in the blender

…..I made the moodboard….