#for soul i can see him [when sleeping normally] moving around a lot

[andvys]

The edges of your soul (I haven’t seen yet) ⭐︎ chapter three

⭐︎ You're the greatest thing we've lost

Warnings: angst, hurt/no comofort (I guess?), mentions of death, grief, grumpy/mean!Steve

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: Steve allows you to see a glimpse of who he really is, and not only do you get that, you also find out some sad truths.

Word count: 12.1k

Author's note: One of the chapters I was excited for the most was this one, you'll know why when you read it hehe. @hellfire--cult worked on this one with me, and she added a lot (don't listen to her when she will say she didn't, cause she did !) give her some love (or all of it cause she deserves it ♡)

⭐︎ series masterlist ⭐︎ previous chapter

☀︎

Steam fogs the mirror in the bathroom, drops of water fall from your hair and down your shoulders, the smell of vanilla and lavender lingers in the room, you are rubbing moisturizer into your skin, enjoying the luxury of it all, a luxury you won’t have much longer the moment you are back on the road again. It’s impossible to find functioning showers nowadays, let alone hot running water. Something that used to be so normal, is something special now and you enjoy every second here in Hawkins, every hot shower, every good night’s sleep, every warm meal, the feeling of safety. 

You put a pair of sweatpants on and a sweater to keep you warm, a pair of wool socks that Nancy knitted herself. You brush your wet hair and clip it back. 

When you step out into the hallway, silence greets you. Eddie is in his room, he was complaining about a headache after you finished patrolling together after he worked on the RV all morning, you both got caught in the rain and after taking a shower to warm up, he excused himself to lie down. The door to Nancy’s bedroom is closed as well, she must be reading, she always closes the door when she does. The rainy weather allows you all to take everything a bit slower, to rest a little more than usual. 

The wind howls outside, thunder striking somewhere far, red bolts of lightning curse through the sky, an image you still haven’t gotten used to. 

You make your way down the stairs, it isn’t dark out yet but the grey clouds make it seem like it’s evening already, the golden light from the fireplace in the living room is very inviting in contrast to the darkness outside. You step inside and notice Steve moving around in the kitchen, taking out bowls from the cardboard. A towel is slung over his shoulder, his features are relaxed, no sign of a frown appearing on his face… yet.

You watch him for a moment, not moving away or towards him. You don’t want to disturb him or his peace. He seems to be content by himself and you know that facial expression will change the moment he notices you. 

Things have been tense between you after your one and only time patrolling together. He didn’t ask you to join him in anything and you didn’t make the mistake of trailing after him again. You also didn’t make much more conversation with him and he seemed happy about it for he didn’t try either. The only interactions you both have are ‘good morning’ and ‘good night’, maybe a ‘can you pass me the salt’ or an ‘excuse me’ here and there but that’s all. 

It’s been eleven days since your arrival here, and you both are still where you started. It saddens you. You tried to get to know him, and you still want to but he makes it hard to.

Maybe if things had been different, you would have gotten the chance to get to know the Steve you have seen in the pictures Nancy had shown you. The guy he once was seemed sweet and welcoming, the one before you is the opposite of it. 

You know something must’ve happened to him. Maybe it’s got to do with the scars on his skin, maybe he lost someone you don’t know about, maybe it’s because of Robin but whatever it was that took away the light in his eyes has turned him into this – mistrusting and mean. 

A silent sigh falls from your lips, you force your eyes away from his form and turn away, ready to make your way back up the stairs but his voice makes you halt in your tracks. 

“Hey…”

A lump grows in your throat, a nervous feeling settles in your chest, you swallow and take a deep breath before you turn around, facing him again. 

He is looking right at you, an awkward attempt at a smile pulling at his lips. 

“Hi… I uh, Nancy and Eddie are in their rooms and I didn’t want to disrupt their peace but uh I also don’t want to disrupt yours so–”

“It’s fine,” he interrupts you, not even letting you finish your sentence. “Would you like to help me?” 

You blink. 

Did you hear him correctly? 

He presses his palms against the counter, raising his eyebrows at you, like he waits for you to say yes. 

Steve notices your uncertainty, the knit between your brows, the pursed lips, the confused look in your eyes. You are pulling at your sleeves, looking a little lost, looking a little intimidated. You are not like this with Nancy and Eddie, you are comfortable with them – but not with him, and he can’t blame you for that.

“I could use a hand.”

You nod slowly, licking your lips, “yeah, I uh, sure!” 

You can’t help but feel a giddiness inside of you. He never asked you to join him before, he never asked for your help. 

“What do you need me to do?” You ask as you make your way over to him, standing across from him now, on the other side of the kitchen island. 

“Butter for now.”

“Butter?” You tilt your head. 

He hates it when you do that, every time you ask a question, every time you are confused about something, you tilt your head to the side. 

“We received a ton of milk, but we have to make our own butters and cream,” he explains as he gestures to the cans of milk on the table. 

“Oh…”

“Wanna give me a hand? It’s a lot of stirring.”

You nod, following him to the small, round kitchen table. 

“Here,” he murmurs, gesturing to the wooden jar, “this is a butter churn.”

“This is what they look like?” 

Steve nods, “yeah, what’d you think they looked like?” 

You shrug, picking up the stick, “I dunno, this thing looks like something straight out of the 1500s.”

Steve snorts, “maybe it is, we found it in Miss Keller’s house, she’s basically from the 1500s with the dresses she always wore.”

You fake a gasp, bringing your hand up to your mouth, “you stole Miss Keller’s butter churn? Bad Steve.” 

He rolls his eyes at you and turns away, but you see the way his lips curl upwards, even if only a little. – A small victory on your part. 

“So… how do I use this thing?”

He pours some milk into the jar and takes the stick from your hands, putting inside the jar before he covers the sides with a towel so the milk doesn’t splatter over you both.

“Here, you just… do these motions,” he explains, twisting the stick from side to side as he raises it up and down slowly, “you churn it slowly, you don’t want the milk to get all over you, it may take some time until you see some progress, you just gotta be patient.” 

You hum, moving a little closer to him, invading his space, you smell his shampoo, his body wash, a hint of oranges and apricot, the sweet and soft scents surprise you, most men opt for masculine scents, strong and overpowering ones. You prefer this. You like this, you like this a little more than you should. You watch the way his hands move as he shows you the motions, you focus on his voice when he gives you the instructions and then you take over when he hands you the stick before he steps away from you rather quickly. 

Unbeknownst to you, he too liked the scent that lingers on your skin a little too much. The sweetness of it, the softness of your hand when it touched his own, the closeness and the heat of your body – he doesn’t like you, how could he? His body reacts to your scent, feminine and soft. It’s been a long time since he felt the touch of a woman, and you are the first to graze his skin, that’s all. He wouldn’t think anything of it, he wouldn’t react to it had there been other women around. 

To his surprise you stay quiet, focused on the task before you, you don’t speak or ask any questions for a while, it’s almost odd to him, you are talkative, never missing the opportunity to open your mouth and ramble about something completely random and unimportant. Then again, things have been tense between you both. He knows it’s his fault, he also knows that it’s for the better, yet he can’t help but dislike this silence right now, he doesn’t know why. 

He tries to focus on his own task, pouring milk into a pot to make cream. 

The crackle of the fire, and the sound from the butter churn fill the silence between you both. A few minutes pass before you finally speak up. 

“What are we using the butter for?” You ask, feeling the soreness in your wrist already.

“For the meat. I use it to make it tender. The meats are not as good now that the cows are not properly cared for. They’re just cows from the wild and the few from the barn here.” 

“Oh, so they don’t get all the needed supplements and stuff?” 

“Exactly,” Steve nods, reaching for a spatula, he starts stirring the milk, “I mean, we do our best but you know…”

You look over at him, surprised to find him looking back at you already, you didn’t realize his eyes were on you. You nod your head slowly, not moving your eyes away from his, you don’t break the contact just yet, looking into his hazel eyes that are always blazing with anger or annoyance, right now it’s neither of those emotions, it’s something else, something you can’t read, something you can’t make out, something you haven’t seen in his eyes yet, a look yet to be unlocked. 

He blinks, shaking his head, he furrows his eyebrows and looks down at your hand, “how does it look?” 

You breathe out and force your eyes away from his as well, you stop your movements and lift the towel off the jar, “uh, I think it’s solid now.” 

“Great, now pour it into the bowl,” he gestures to the bowl with the cheesecloth inside. 

You fall quiet again and follow his instructions, his voice fills the space between you as he gives you a step by step on what to do but when you’re as good as done, the silence between you is almost deafening, almost awkward, especially to him, the need to fill it is so strong. 

He swore to himself that he wouldn’t talk to you if not necessary, that he wouldn’t ask questions. He doesn’t want to know anything about you, he doesn’t need that in his life, but this moment right now is killing him. He is done cooking the cream, and he is now working on making dinner, cutting vegetables. He tries to distract himself with that but to no avail. 

He glances at you. It’s dark out now, the only source of light coming from the fireplace and all the candles set up because he likes to save up on electricity by keeping the lights off. The golden light touches your skin so softly, your hair shining from it, the smell of your body wash lingers in the room. You look relaxed, you look content despite being here with him. The sweater you are wearing is too big and it slipped down your shoulder from all the movements, exposing the scar that has formed on your shoulder. It was fresh when you came here, and he never found out how you got it. 

He clears his throat, swallowing the lump that grew from nervousness, he speaks your name, which it’s almost foreign on his tongue. 

You look up at him, “yeah..?”

“What uh,” he pauses, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly before he points to your shoulder, “what happened?”

You need a moment to follow what he is pointing at. You are surprised, almost taken aback to hear a question coming from him, a question directed at you. Slowly, you look down, only now noticing that your sweater slipped. You put down the paddle that you used to form the butter and pull your sweater back up. 

“Uh… I fell onto broken glass when a sick person snuck up on me.” You explain, scrunching your nose, “I was distracted, I never am usually but I was hungry and looking for food and I found something I’ve been looking for, for months!” 

“Oh,” Steve mumbles and looks down. “What was it?” 

“...Kit Kat’s.” 

Steve raises his eyebrows at you, lip curling up a bit, “you almost got yourself killed because of Kit Kat’s?” 

You shrug at him, “they’ve always been my favorite! And I haven’t had any since the day the world went to shit!” 

He chuckles a bit but he doesn’t comment on it further, just looking back down, giving you the opportunity to look at him closer, at the scar around his neck, you never asked how he got it, you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. 

He looks up to find you staring at his neck. He knows you are curious, you have been from the start, he always caught you staring at it. 

“I was dragged by a demo– a bat.”

He sees the way your eyes widen, how surprised you are by his explanation, “huh?”

He points to his neck, “it choked me, leaving a mark, while two others bit my flesh off.” 

Steve used to cringe every moment he spent thinking of that night, of when they dragged him across the floor, leaving marks on his skin. He used to have nightmares of it, until those nightmares were replaced by new pictures, worse ones. 

You nod slowly, looking him up and down, there are no other visible marks for you to see, except for the one on his neck. 

“Where?”

He sighs, not wanting to look into your eyes, not wanting to see the sadness flashing in them. He looks back down at the carrot he was cutting, picking the knife back up again, he continues. 

“My abdomen, my sides… but Eddie had it worse.” 

You quickly realize what he is doing, steering the topic away from him again, thinking he doesn’t deserve sympathy for what he went through. 

You have seen the scars on Eddie’s skin, the deep and gnarly marks, he briefly told you what had happened but you never pushed the subject, you never tried to find out more. 

“You mean the scar on his lip…?” 

Steve nods, “his chest, abdomen, arms, legs… They’re all scarred. They bit off chunks of flesh.” He says, his voice sad, almost haunted. 

Your shoulders drop, the look on your face too, sadness flushes through you and you look down at the table, at nothing in particular.

You can’t imagine how it happened, the pain he was in, the fear that took home in all of them when Eddie was bleeding out and fighting for his life. 

Steve turns around when he registers your silence. He sees the worried, sad look on your face, how your lips curl downwards and your shoulders are dropped. 

“But we’re okay now, he is healthy as you can see… and annoying.”

At that, you smile a little, lifting your head back up to look at him, “yeah, but he’s adorable.” 

Steve draws back a little, raising an eyebrow at you, “you crushing on Munson or something?” 

Your eyes widen and you flush all over, shaking your head quickly that your hair falls out of your clip. 

“What, no! Ew! He reminds me of my brother! People that are just like my brother ain’t my type!” You scoff, shuddering a little. You pick up the paddle again and continue forming the butter into the shape you want to have it. 

Steve can’t help but smile, amused by the look on your face. He gets a little curious though. 

“... And what is your type?”

You hum, taking a moment to answer his question. 

He doesn’t look away from you just yet, he watches you. 

“Mmm… As long as he makes me smile when I need it the most… that’s all I need.” 

Steve nods at your words, humming. 

You look up at him, surprised to see him still watching you. 

“What about you? What’s your type, cowboy?” 

He flushes a little, cheeks warming under your eyes. He hasn’t talked about women in years, and hasn't thought about this either. 

He shakes his head, lifting his shoulders up and down, “I uh… I honestly have no idea.” 

He is not the guy he used to be, the one who was flirting freely and taking out one girl after the other – even that guy didn’t know his type. He was searching for something in every girl, and he never found it. 

“Oh come on!” You scoff, looking at him in disbelief, “what type of women did you go out with?”

He shrugs, “I don’t know, they were always… stereotypical girls that always talked about the latest trends and stuff.”

You snort, rolling your eyes as you look down. 

“Ah right… Prom King. I can guess which type of women you’re into–”

He quickly shakes his head at you, “no… no… I went out with them to have fun, it was just physical. Those girls weren’t my type.” 

You frown at his words and sigh. 

For some reason your reaction makes him think that you’re done with this conversation, but then you look back up and turn towards him completely. 

“Okay… then, when you’re with a woman, what is attractive to you?” 

“... Real answer?” 

“Sure…” You murmur. 

A smirk tugs at his lip when he notices how flustered you are getting when his eyes move up and down. 

You notice how he stops at your chest in particular and you can’t help but groan and shake your head in disappointment. 

“Booo…”

“No!” Steve raises his hands up in surrender, chuckling. 

“I was gonna say eyes.”

You roll your eyes, snorting, “right… I didn’t mean physically, Steve. I meant what is attractive to you when you’re on a date with them? What do they do that is attractive to you?”

Your words wipe the small smile off his face again, and he stands there in silence, getting lost in his thoughts, getting lost in the past, reliving every date, every moment that should have excited him but didn’t. He realizes that there was not a single date that is worth remembering, not a single girl who made him smile genuinely. Sure, he had fun the moment he was in pleasure but that’s all, the girls were attractive physically but emotionally? They all sucked, none of them cared about him, all they wanted was a piece of King Steve. 

And even when he thought he found something genuine, someone to love him, someone to care for him, it turned out to be a show, it was just as genuine as the interest all those girls had in him. It was all a lie. 

There is no love in him for her anymore, no feelings, no desires, nothing. But those words still hurt and sometimes they still haunt him because he believes it. Those words echo in his head, just like all the other hateful things others have thrown at him. But one in particular remains,

‘Bullshit’

“I… I don’t know…” He whispers, letting his facade fall for only a moment. “I guess someone who doesn’t see me as a failure.” 

You are taken aback by his words, a weird feeling settling in your chest at the confession. 

When Steve realizes what he said, when he notices the look in your face, when he notices his mistake, he immediately draws back. 

“W-What… Failure, why?” 

He shakes his head, turning his back to you again, “doesn’t matter, um… the butter should be done, wanna give me a hand cutting the potatoes?” 

You hesitate, staring at the back of his head. You want to know more, you want to know why he said that, you want to know why he feels like this, who made him feel like this. 

A sigh falls from your lips, loud enough for him to hear. 

“Sure…”

You leave it alone, not wanting to risk getting on his bad side again, you bite your tongue and do as he asked. You clean up the kitchen table before you walk over to him, getting your own cutting board, and you start peeling the potatoes. 

You work in silence for a while, just like before, but this one isn’t as uncomfortable, even though his words still echo in your head and you wonder about his past. You don’t want him to close up on you again, not when he just started to open up, so you don’t press the subject further. 

It’s too silent though and you can barely handle it. You let go of the peeler before you started peeling the potatoes, taking Steve aback, his eyes already glaring at you as you turned and walked away.

“Really? You don’t want to peel potatoes?”

“It’s too quiet!” You leave the kitchen, leaving Steve stunned as he looks back at the door. It was quiet but he didn’t think you were going to have a breakdown because of it. He doesn’t know you and that is being a little obvious by now. Maybe you don’t do good with silence and he just doesn't know that side of you. If he knew, maybe he could have talked about something else, or try.

But not two seconds later, he starts hearing the radio turning and then static. He doesn’t remember when was the last time they turned on that radio. He can hear you changing the channels of it, the static growing and lowering, and he wonders if you're crazy. There is no music being played. Who would operate a radio station in the middle of the apocalypse–

His eyes widen when he starts hearing ‘Hound dog’ by Elvis Presley. It is static, yet it is still there. There is music. Somewhere in Indiana, someone is operating a radio station. Someone is trying to keep people in a good mood despite it all. He never knew. Nancy never knew. Eddie never tried. The three of them thought that the only music they could have was Eddie’s guitar.

He hears you humming to it, walking back into the kitchen and placing the small radio on the far corner so you two can have the music to yourselves. He is still staring at the radio, completely stunned, his eyes wide. You turn to look at him when you grab the peeler, noticing the look of surprise.

“Why do you look so stunned?”

“I– I didn’t know they played music…” Your eyes went to look at it and you smiled, nodding at him.

“Yeah, I had one back at camp too… Did you know radio signals can travel from 50 to 60 miles away? Some AM stations up to 100 miles!” He is still surprised there is music, yet you are talking away facts to him about radio signals. But that actually caught his attention. There are others, not an hour away from him. It has to be the WSQK watts station. It has to be.

“There’s… a radio station near… like thirty or forty minutes away from here…” You turn to him, surprised as well now.

“Really? Well… there’s people operating there… Probably also sending out news and messages to people.” Your attention turns back to the potatoes, starting to peel away, leaving the peeled skin scraps in a mountain on the counter. 

“That’s… good to know.” It actually is good to know. They thought that the only radio signal they could ever get for news was Mr. Clarke’s transmitter that is in the library. That’s how they got contacted by Hopper when the others arrived in California, and now he is finding out that maybe some radio stations are still transmitting. They are probably using some kind of solar panel to make energy because–

“This potato has a worm.” He snaps out of his thoughts immediately at your words, frowning as he looks down at it. 

“There’s no worm there.” You slowly look up at him with a cheeky smile, only to look back down, leaving that peeled potato aside to grab another.

“You were thinking too much. Just enjoy the music, you can think later.” You reply and he blinks for a few seconds as the song keeps playing. He looks back down to his carrots, grabbing the knife he left on the side to keep cutting. The minutes pass, the songs changing, songs he knows. Songs that remind him of when the world didn’t simply go to shit. 

And there’s some kind of comfort in that.

“Did you know Marvin Gaye was shot by his own father?” You have been spitting facts and news to him that he either knew or never knew, and he didn’t notice he found himself talking back at you, even giving a fact or two of his own.

“I did, that was crazy as shit.” The song ‘Sexual Feeling’ was playing, that’s why you started talking about that with him. Each song that passed, you said something about it. You were stirring the vegetables in the boiling water while he sauted the meat in the pan, with the butter you made. He threw some rosemary in it too, for extra flavour.

One other thing he didn’t notice was that he had been humming along all this time.

He had two pans where he was cooking four pieces of meat, while you worked on making sure the vegetables were properly boiled. You had added some garlic in the pot because you claimed it’s good for the overall health. He almost chuckled at that because it was just because garlic is delicious. There was no need to put garlic on boiled vegetables. 

You two didn’t even notice that even in the silence of conversation, where just the music played, there was no more awkwardness. There was no tension. There was nothing that could make you think he didn’t like you anymore. 

“Is that Marvin Gaye?” The sound of Nancy’s voice makes the two of you turn around, and she is surprised to see you working together. It’s been days since you two last had a proper conversation, and– “Wait… music?”

“Yeah. She kind of discovered it. Nance, we didn’t know the radio station was still functioning, for a whole year.” Steve’s voice makes you feel proud, knowing you helped and that he was actually surprised by your discovery. Nancy blinks a few times, not believing her ears.

“Wait, so it means we can use that to receive news…” Steve’s eyebrows meet in the middle for a second, only to then nod slightly.

“I bet they’re not different from the news we get from the transmitter in the library, Nance.” His head turns back to the meat, while you grab four plates, stacking them next to him. “Thanks.”

You try to tone down your giddiness, not wanting to show him you are really happy he is being civil and friendly with you, “No problem.”

Nancy’s eyes travel back and forth with the two of you, wondering what had changed, but it is better not to ask. Seeing Steve putting steak on each plate while you grab a colander from the cupboards below the sink. You are about to grab the pot yourself, grabbing kitchen clothes to not burn yourself on the handles, but Steve grabs them from you.

“Let me.” You see how he grabs the pot, not letting you do it, not letting you carry the heavy weight yourself.

“Um–” You don’t know how to react or say, kind of confused at his action, but you don’t dislike how much of a gentleman that move was. Nancy hums a bit to herself, clearing her throat before yelling out.

“Eddie! Food’s ready!” Your head turns to look at her, and you snap from your thoughts, not noticing you had been looking at his arms as they strained a bit when pouring the water into the colander. You quickly move to the cupboards to start setting up the table with Nancy as Eddie walks down the stairs. 

“Oh, shit, we eating Steve’s delicious steaks?” Steve rolls his eyes but he’s proud of his cooking. It’s one of those things he knew he was good at, and he never received any complaints.

“Just set the table up, Munson.” He replies and Eddie immediately moves to grab the water out of the fridge and set it on the table. You go back to the counter, next to Steve, and grab a big scooping spoon. Steve hands you one plate, with a steak on it, and you just add some boiled vegetables on it before placing it in front of Nancy as she sits down.

Once you are all seated, Eddie doesn’t even wait a second before he shoves a piece of meat into his mouth, moaning as if he’s in a porn movie, making the other three of you cringe.

“Do you have to do that everytime you eat his steak?” Nancy asks as she cuts herself a little piece, Eddie turning to look at her, with his mouth full.

“Its’ ‘fee biss’ stek’ i’ve evur’ haf.” You snort into your water at the nonsense he just mumbled  because of his mouth full of food. Steve holds in a chuckle as he grimaces in disgust.

“Can you chew and swallow before you talk?” And Eddie glares at him only for his eyes to widen up as he looks around, a frown in his eyebrows. He chews quickly, swallowing where he almost choked.

“Is that– ‘Take on me’? Is that fucking music!?” Nancy snorts as you all realize that Eddie hadn’t even noticed the music playing because he was more focused on Steve’s steaks. 

You explain that you have found a few channels over the months every time you come across a radio somewhere, though none of them have played metal music. 

“Maybe you gotta do the heavy metal channel,” you shrug. 

“Huh, you know what? Maybe I will, once I figure out how to, I fucking will,” he nods happily before he takes another bite of his steak. 

Steve chuckles a little to himself, though he keeps his eyes trained on the plate before him. Nancy and Eddie share a look of surprise, it’s been a while since they saw him so… relaxed. 

For the first time in a while, he joins in on the small talk during dinner, commenting and nodding along to the things you talk about. A sparkle of hope is inside of both Nancy and Eddie, hope that maybe there is still something left in him wanting to try, wanting to live, wanting to fight for something better. 

Maybe he is ready to leave now, maybe he is learning how to let go. 

Eddie wastes no time in wanting to find out, because the moment you are all done eating and he pushes the empty plate away from him, leaning back, he stuffs his hand into the pocket of his jeans, fishing something out. 

You all watch curiously. 

Eddie flashes you a smile when you lean closer, trying to peek over the table. He lifts his arm up and throws something over to Steve, the unmistakable sound of jingling keys passing by you, a flash over silver before your eyes before it lands in Steve’s hand. 

Steve looks down, feeling the metal in his palm, his fingers are closed around it. He doesn’t need to look to know what it is, the happiness in Eddie’s eyes and the dreadful feeling in his stomach tells him exactly what it is. 

With furrowed eyebrows, he stares at nothing in particular. 

“What is it!?” Nancy asks, impatiently. 

Eddie looks at the both of you, unable to contain the smile on his face as he starts jumping up and down on his chair. 

“I finished it,” he explains proudly, though neither of you understand what he means by that as you both give him questioning looks, to which he sighs. “The RV! It’s up and running! We can finally get out of here!” 

“Seriously?” Nancy nearly squeals, her eyes lighting up at his words, she nearly jumps from her chair, almost knocking it over. 

You know that she’s been waiting for this, waiting to be reunited with her family again. 

“Yeah! We’re going to California, baby!” Eddie exclaims, reaching for her hand and giving it a squeeze. “So you better start packing your bags.”

You smile, sharing their relief as well. You've been waiting for it too, waiting to finally see your family again, though in this moment, you fear looking over at Steve, knowing how he feels about leaving Hawkins. You still turn your head, daring to take a glance and you find exactly what you thought you would. 

His features are no longer relaxed, his lips are no longer curled into a smile, his eyes aren’t soft like they were before. A mixture of sadness and anger lingers in them, and when he looks at you, meeting your eyes, you feel a shudder running down your spine, he no longer is the one from before, the one that laughed with you, the one that talked with you like you were his… friend. 

He clenches his jaw and he turns away again, throwing the keys back to Eddie who catches them with one hand, the smile falling from his lips when he finally notices the frown on Steve’s face. 

You all flinch a little when the chair scrapes against the hardwood floor and the brunette picks his plate up angrily before walking over to the kitchen. 

Nancy’s smile falls and her shoulders slump, helplessly she looks at Eddie. 

“Dude, you know we can’t stay here,” Eddie states carefully, with a soft and gentle voice. “We’re gonna run out of everything someday, you can’t prevent–”

“We won’t run out if we go hunting,” Steve grumbles. 

“There’s nothing left here for us, man. We got people waiting for us–”

Suddenly, Steve turns around, with his eyes angrier than before and his cheeks burning red, “you got people waiting for you! Leave me out of this!”

Nancy frowns in disbelief, as well as Eddie who gets up from his chair as well, throwing the keys on the dining table. 

“Seriously? You’re telling me that the kids aren’t waiting for you? That they haven’t been asking for you every time Dustin radio’d us and you’ve been acting like a complete asshole, refusing to speak to him – to them?” 

Steve scoffs loudly, turning back around, he makes his way over to the sink. 

“We’re not leaving without you, Steve,” Nancy speaks. “I’m not leaving you behind.” 

“That’s rich coming from you, Nance.” 

She falls silent after that, opening her mouth and closing it again, she looks a little taken aback, guilt flashes in her eyes. 

Eddie only sighs, looking down with a defeated look on his face. 

You don’t know what his words mean, you don’t know why she gives up after that. Many questions run through your head but you mostly wonder what he meant by that. 

“Steve,” Eddie tries again and you can hear the desperation in his voice, you can see the sadness in his face, he doesn’t want to leave his friend behind but he doesn’t want to stay here either, he never wanted to, least of all now. “There is nothing left for us here, there is nothing left for you here, you know that, man. Robin is–”

You flinch again when he throws the plate into the sink, so hard it must’ve splattered in half. He turns around, throwing a finger at Eddie, “I told you I’m not leaving! If you wanna go, feel free to get the fuck out of here, all of you! But leave me alone!” He yells, glaring at the both of them before he storms out of the room, passing by you and out into the hallway, not bothering to grab a jacket or an umbrella before he rips open the door and leaves the house, slamming the door so harshly that you wonder if it’s still in tact or not. 

Your heart is pounding in your chest, adrenaline kicking in when you notice that Eddie and Nancy aren’t moving, not planning to follow him out. 

They know him better than you do, they know not to touch him now, he won’t listen, he won’t compromise, he will do more damage than anything else at this moment but you don’t know that. 

Worry settles deep in your gut, the urge to go after him growing stronger each passing second. You get up and push the chair back, leaving them no time to react before you rush out of the room, quickly throwing on your old pair of sneakers, not wasting any more time to follow him out. 

You hear your name being called before you slam the door shut, but you don’t bother to turn back around, you run straight into the storm, not caring about the rain you ran from earlier. 

You rip open the gate and close it behind you, looking around you as you try to spot him in the darkness, you squint your eyes when lightning strikes through the sky. You see his silhouette, three houses down the road. 

The rain runs down your face, soaking through your clothes already, the coldness of it clinging to your skin and making you shiver already, even as you start running after him, following him wherever he is going. You pick up the pace when he gets further and further away from you. 

Worry still gnawing at you, not knowing how he will react to you following him but you can’t just let him go like this, you know that he is angry but you also know that the anger is a mask for something else. He is sad, he is broken because of things that happened to him. You may not be the person he wants him to follow, but you just can’t let him go like this. 

You slow down when he rounds the corner of a house, disappearing behind the wall. The rain paddles harshly against the floor, thunder crashing through the sky. You almost slip on the muddy ground when you step into the grass, you halt in your tracks when you notice the surrounding bushes, somehow still full and alive, unlike most other things in Hawkins. 

You lost him after he disappeared into the garden of whoever lives or lived in this house. The white picket fence has no gate, and you can just walk through it. You follow the footprints in the mud, feeling grateful for the lightning for once. You push your wet hair out of your face, as you inch closer and closer to where he ran off to. 

You take deep breaths, trying not to shiver from the cold. Thunder makes you flinch again, though the loud crash is not what makes you halt in your tracks, nor is it the red lightning bolts in the sky that illuminate your surroundings, allowing you to see better, allowing you to take in the view before you. 

For a moment, you stop breathing, you stop moving completely, you are sure that even your heart stopped beating. You can only raise your hand to your lips as your eyes widen in horror. 

He is here, he is standing in this garden, only a few steps away from you. He is standing there with his head hung low, looking down at the grave before him, wilted flowers on it, a necklace dangling from the cross, a necklace that once dangled from her neck. 

Robin Buckley. 

The name engraved into the wooden cross, is the name you have heard so many times, the name of his best friend. 

So many feelings run through your veins but mostly shock and confusion. He talked about her like she was alive, they talked about her like she was alive, there was no sign of this. You could have never guessed. Every time he left the house saying that he was gonna visit Robin, you thought he was actually seeing her, you could have never imagined that he meant visiting her grave. 

Your heart breaks when the realization of it all begins to sink in, why he is the way that he is, why he doesn’t want to leave, why he is so filled with anger and rage. 

You swallow the sickening lump in your throat. You don’t know what to say or do, a part of you wants to walk away and leave him be, the other wants to comfort him, and the stronger part wins. 

“Steve…” You call out softly to him, your voice reaching him despite the raging storm.

He tenses up, you can see it, it takes him a moment but when he finally turns around, you realize what a mistake it was to follow him. Even through the darkness and the rain, you can see the glistening tears in his eyes, the angry ones, the scowl on his face directed at no one but you. 

“I-I’m sorry…”

“Don’t!” He snaps loudly. “Don’t say anything right now!”

You press your lips together, taking deep breaths as you look at the intense emotions in his eyes, and his anger makes you cower away. Shivers run down your spine, not from the rain, but from how he looks at you. 

You shake your head slowly, digging your nails into your palms. You don’t know what to do, so you just stand there and watch him. Behind the hatred in his eyes, you see pain and sadness, you see how hard he is holding onto this, you see how it is driving him crazy, how it’s ripping him apart. 

“I-I didn’t know…” You say softly. 

Steve can hear the sadness in your voice, the gentle tone in it, the warmth in your eyes – he can’t stand it, he doesn’t want it, he doesn’t deserve it. 

“That she’s dead? You didn’t know that my best friend is dead?” Steve scoffs as he slowly starts to make his way over to you, inching closer carefully, staring at you like you are his prey that he is ready to rip apart, right here, right now. “Well, now you fucking do, she’s dead, Robin is dead just like most people are, just like you will be the moment you step out there!” He throws his hand up, pointing at nothing in particular. His voice is trembling, the rain streams down his face. 

You wince at his words. 

You know what’s waiting out there, you know the dangers of this world but that doesn’t stop you from finding your family, from keeping hope alive. 

You understand him now, more than anything. You don’t know how you would be if you lost someone you loved so dearly but he still has people he loves, people that love him. 

“I’m sorry, Steve. I really am, I’m sorry that you lost her,” you start, your own voice trembling, out of nerves and out of fear. “But she is gone, a-and you staying here won’t change it! It won’t bring her back, it won’t fix anything! I understand your pain, I really do… but– you have people who care for you, Eddie and Nancy. You have other people who are waiting for you… Dustin?” You say despite the shock that still curses through you. 

You don’t know whether it’s tears running down his cheeks or if it’s just the rain, but his eyes are glassy.

“Don’t bring Henderson into this! He is alive and well and that suffices!” 

“Does it really?” You ask, tilting your head to the side. “Because you look miserable most of the time, and you will end up all alone once Eddie and Nancy are gone!”

Steve takes another step closer to you, looking down at you with nothing but hatred in his eyes. 

“I know you feel like your life is over but it’s not, I–”

“You’ve known me for two weeks. Two fucking weeks. I don’t care about your optimistic hopeful bullshit. When you find your parents and your brother dead, you will wish you never had it to begin with.”

You draw back, straightening your back, you stare at him, speechless and stunned. The words are caught in your throat, your chest aching more than ever. 

You know he is hurt and angry, and now he is trying to hurt you back. You know that they’re alive, you know that your parents are fine, you know that your brother is well. 

“They’re… they’re not–”

“You saw the world out there, open your eyes for just a second!” He snaps at you, getting closer and closer, allowing you to see him and his anger better. “You are leading my friends to their death! You are helping them leave! I-I thought you would want to stay once you realized you were safe here, that you’re all fucking safe!”

You shake your head at him, growing angry too for the things he said about your family. 

“Why wouldn’t I want to leave!?”

“Cause you are literally driving into hell! There are things you haven’t encountered there!”

“I want to see my family! Nancy and Eddie too! You have family waiting for you!” 

A humorless laugh falls from his lips, he brings his hand up to his face, pressing his knuckle under his nose as he closes his eyes for a moment before he opens them again, looking at you again, “family? My family is here, six feet under!” He yells, pointing at the grave. He is blinded by rage and sadness. “The one person I had in my life that cared for me like no one else had is gone! And I’m not leaving her here!” 

You know there is no getting through to him, not when he is like this.

Steve would rather chase after a ghost for the rest of his life. 

“Leave her here?” You whisper. “She’s not here anymore, Steve! Do you really think she would want this for you? She wouldn’t! You were family, you were her best friend, she would want you to leave, to find a better place, to live!” 

If the look in his eyes could kill, you’d be buried under this ground right now. You can see that it’s getting worse, that his eyes are burning, that his chest is heaving. 

“I know what danger is out there, but I need my family–”

“Smell the fucking non-existent sunflowers, they’re dead by now!” 

Steve tries it again, to hurt you, to harm you where he knows it hurts the most but you shake your head, trying not to let his words get to you, trying not to let his words touch your heart. You take a step away from him, shaking your head. 

“No–, no they’re not,” you whisper, feeling the familiar lump in your throat, the painful throbbing in your heart, the hotness in your eyes. 

He scoffs at you, looking you up and down in disbelief, “you think you’re going to find your house surrounded by a gate of protection? You’re fucking delusional if you think so.”

You wrap your arms around yourself, taking a step back further. You hesitate, feeling intimidated by his presence all the sudden but he only follows, looking right into your glassy eyes. 

He is guided by hatred. He can no longer see clearly, the pain has turned him into this, the pain has made him cold. He doesn’t care about the tears in your eyes, about the trembling in your bottom lip, about the fear and the sadness in your eyes. 

“My family is alive, I-I know they are–”

“Smell the decay of the corpses around you, and tone down that hope of yours before you end up even more hurt than you thought you could ever be. Open your eyes for once and stop acting like an immature little girl.” 

His words feel like a blow to your chest, stealing the breath from you and replacing it with pain. The colors vanish before your eyes, a darkness you never allowed to enter, blurring your vision and crawling into your veins, threatening to take over. 

The tears no longer stay in your eyes, they start falling freely as your bottom lip trembles, a sob threatening to escape you though you push it back down, not wanting him to see just how much his words have hurt you. 

You see nothing in his eyes, no remorse, no guilt, nothing but this – grief has turned him cold.

Your sniffle breaks his anger a little though, the blaring redness that flashed in his eyes just seconds ago, dimming just a bit when he begins to see the damage he has done. He sees the way your chest is rising up and down heavily, the way you're blinking quickly like it would stop your tears from falling, he sees the pain in your eyes that he had caused. 

You are crying, he made you cry when he once swore to himself to never do this to anyone ever again. 

“You’re…” Your voice breaks and you wipe your tears, as though it would change anything. “You’re a douchebag.” 

The tension in his shoulders leaves him, and regret starts sinking in. 

Robin thought that of him before she got to know him, before she became his friend. He changed, even more so when he found her. 

Has her death made him turn back around?

Has it changed him this much?

She would be disappointed, she would kick his ass for what he did just now, for what he said, for how he made you feel, for making you cry when all you wanted was to help. He knew where it would hurt the most and he chose to hit you there exactly, not caring about what it would do to you. 

You tear your eyes away from him, sniffling quietly as you walk away from him, leaving him in the rain. 

His fingers itch, his hand moves forward as though to stop you but he quickly clenches his fist and breaks his eyes away from you, looking down at the muddy ground. He closes his eyes, shutting them tightly as he holds back tears. His heart is aching more than ever. 

He knows you’re right, deep down he knows. 

He knows it’s only fair for Eddie and Nancy to leave, he knows it all, he understands it all.

He knows that she would want him to go with them, that she would force him to if she could. He knows she’s gone, he hasn’t felt her presence since the day a bird had sat down on her cross, she is gone and there is no bringing her back, not even if he stays. 

But how can he leave when all that is left of her is this? 

Everywhere he turns there’s a reminder that she was here, every good memory he has of her would be abandoned and he can’t do it, he just can’t. 

With trembling lips and tears now streaming down his cold cheeks, he turns back around, looking at her name on the cross, at the reminder… that she is gone, forever. His knees almost buckle, a sob threatens to rip from his lips but he doesn’t let it, he doesn’t allow himself to break down, even as the sadness and the guilt begins to consume him. 

“Robin,” he whispers, shakily. He knows he won’t get an answer, he knows he won’t get the sign that he’s been begging for, he knows he won’t hear her voice calling back to him, the only thing he hears is the rain, the rustling trees and his own heartbeat. He tastes the saltiness of his tears, he tastes the bitterness. “Birdie…”

She is gone and she’s not coming back. 

He lost her, and soon he will lose more. 

Soon his biggest fear will catch up to him. 

Being left behind, being all alone. 

It was bound to happen. 

Right?

-

Steve didn’t come out of his room all day. 

You haven’t seen him, haven’t heard from him, haven’t heard his voice in the hallway or anywhere else. 

He came home shortly after you the night before, you heard him talking to Nancy, heard her asking questions that he didn’t answer. You know she told him that you’re leaving today, told him to pack his bags and be ready by night. It’s getting dark out now, your bags are in the RV, as well as Nancy’s and Eddie’s, along with a box of pictures and other things that they refuse to leave behind. 

You are all ready to go, all except for him. 

Eddie is giddy, excited to finally hit the road, though you can also see his jumpiness, how he can’t seem to sit still, the anxiety of having to leave Steve behind is eating at him. 

Nancy is distracting herself, sitting at the dining table, her guns and knives sprawled across the table, a cloth in her hand as she cleans her weapons. 

You’re sitting by the window, looking into blank space. Sadness lingered in you all day, and it didn’t change throughout it. He planted thoughts into your head that you refused to think about or even consider, though now a part of you can’t help but feel anxious because what if… what if there is some truth to it? What if you are being a little too hopeful? What if you are being ignorant and foolish? 

You know he was hurt, and that hurt has triggered the anger, anger that he directed at you – he wanted to hurt someone and you were there, the perfect target, you are the reason why his friends are leaving now. 

You didn’t mention what you found out last night, not to Eddie nor Nancy. It only really sunk in this morning, when you woke up with a headache after crying yourself to sleep. 

You don’t know how he lost her but something tells you that she didn’t go peacefully. He blames himself, you saw it in his eyes. 

“We should go soon.” It’s Nancy who breaks the silence in the room, a determined look on her face. You can sense her hesitation, her nervousness. She doesn’t want to go without him, you saw the way her eyes kept flicking to the staircase waiting for him to come walking down the stairs with bags in his hands, he never did. She told him to be ready by 7pm, it’s 8 now. 

Eddie told you that Steve said goodbye, that he hugged him and Nancy, and prepared food and snacks for the road. No matter how much they begged and tried to convince him to come with them, it was to no avail. He never planned on leaving, not then, not now. 

A part of you wants to try, to go up to his room and talk to him again but you doubt he wants to see you, especially after last night. He hates you, you saw it in his eyes. He won’t change his mind, not for you. He hurt you, but you still don’t want him to stay here, to be alone, to be left behind. 

Eddie stops pacing around, he watches Nancy as she gets up from her seat, putting the guns and knives away into her backpack. 

“Nance,” Eddie hesitates, looking at her in uncertainty. 

She throws her backpack over her shoulder and shrugs at him, trying to look tough, trying to mask the worry on her face. 

“He made his choice, he wants to stay. I won’t force him to come with us.” That is all she says before she leaves the room, taking you by surprise with her sudden coldness. She walks out of the house without another word.

Eddie glances at you, taking in the frown on your face, the sadness behind your puffy eyes. He knows that something happened between you and Steve when you followed him out into the rain, last night. He suspects that he threw unkind words at you – you didn’t tell him anything, neither did Steve but Eddie knows it crashed between you. 

Now all he sees is hesitation in your eyes, despite the hurt written across your face. He can tell you don’t want to leave him behind. Eddie noticed that you had developed some kind of attachment to Steve, despite his constant cold shoulder. 

You keep your eyes trained on the ground, blinking rapidly as you get up, not moving away from the window just yet though. 

Eddie sighs, he walks over to the desk by the window, opening one of the drawers, he picks out a map he kept hidden, a copy of the one already in the RV. It’s marked up just like the other one, the town in California circled in a red color. He carries it over to the dining table, “in case he changes his mind,” he tells you. 

You furrow your eyebrows as you look between him and the map, “I thought you didn’t have a copy?” 

He makes his way over to you, a small smile grazing his lips, he places his palm on your shoulder, “guess I lied a little.” His brown eyes are sad, not matching the smile at all. He squeezes you, nodding softly before he steps away, looking around one more time, even though he’s done it a few times already today. “I’ll be outside.”

“Yeah…” 

He closes the door behind him, leaving you by yourself. 

You can’t say that you’re surprised by their sudden decision to leave today, but then again, they have been waiting for this moment for a long time. They’ve been waiting for it for a year, waiting for him to be ready. He never will be. 

You take a deep breath as you look around the house you found shelter in, found new friends in. You wouldn’t have been here if you didn’t follow him that day. You tug your jacket closer to your body, gripping it tightly. 

You don’t want to leave without him. 

But you are the last person to change his mind. 

You have known him for a few days only and yet he managed to crawl under your skin. You got used to him, despite his rough demeanor, despite yesterday. 

You make your way upstairs, you can’t leave without saying goodbye. 

But when you knock on his door, he doesn’t respond or open the door – not that you expected him to. You lean against the door frame, keeping your knuckle against the wooden door. 

“Steve?” You whisper shakily, hoping to hear his voice. “I uh… I just wanted to thank you, for letting me stay, I know you didn’t want to but still… thank you.”

You hear nothing on the other side, no shuffling, no footsteps, no sighs, nothing. 

A sigh falls from your lips, the sadness in you spreading further. 

“Despite everything, it was nice meeting you… Goodbye Steve.” 

You finally pull away from the wood, looking at the door one last moment before you head back downstairs and grab the backpack you left on the floor. You look around the house one last time and you can’t help but imagine him walking downstairs, where his friends once were, and see them all gone. Just himself and the ghost of what once was and never will be again.

It hurts to leave him behind, and you can’t even imagine how Nancy and Eddie feel. You have your answer once you head out and towards the back where you see Eddie wiping his cheek away while making sure the tires are all set, and how Nancy has her back towards the two of you, and her legs are slightly shaking as she looks at stuff into her weapon bag.

They are hurt from leaving him behind, way more than you are. You had to reassure them that even in loneliness, Steve will be safe. He is inside a community, guarded even if little, but he is still with people and in safety.

“Okay ladies, I think we are good to go.” Eddie says finally and you head over to Nancy, putting a hand on her shoulder.

“Come on, Nance.” You see her looking at the distance, towards the same way you followed Steve the night before. You see her gulp tightly, nodding at you before turning around and heading inside the RV first. You turn to see Eddie giving you a small comforting smile as he looks at the house one last time. 

He sighs as he turns towards you, bowing down as he points with his arm towards the open door of the RV. You can only smile so little at the theatrics, and you take a deep breath before you step inside, surprised to see just how well equipped it is. Two big seats at the front, driver and passenger, then followed by counters on the side, and then a couch on the other. A pull out couch. Then at the end of the kitchen counter sat a small booth, with a small table in the middle. 

You see there is a small little hallway, which has the door to the toilet, and then at the very back end you can see the big double bed. It has a sliding door to close it from everyone else if needed. You are amazed by it, a small and nice motorhome for the three of you. Eddie enters the RV as Nancy starts the vehicle. He closes the door behind him and he wiggles his eyebrows at you.

“You like it? I installed the pull out couch myself. We have enough gas till the next possible gas station, and hopefully there’s still some left, so we need to make sure to not run out before that.” Nance only nods as you look up and open the bag cupboard at the top of the couch, putting your bag inside as well as Eddie’s and hers. You close it and you three hear the RV coming to life finally. 

“Good job Eddie.” Nancy finally smiles his way, and Eddie puffs out his chest as he sits in the passenger’s seat, pulling the map out of the glove compartment in front of him. He had marked down all possible places they could stop at to look for more food and gas. Even toiletries. He also marked all possible gas stations, and you realize they had been planning this for a very long time.

“Okay… goodbye Hawkins you piece of shit.” Eddie says, making you hum as you take a seat on the couch. Your body suddenly sways as the RV starts to move slowly, and the excitement starts to come back to you as well as the fear of what you might encounter. You are going to your family. You are going to find your family and you will be safer this time. You have people around you, armed and willing to protect you as much as you would protect them. You won’t sleep in the mud, looking for cover under the cup of the trees. You will be sleeping either on a nice couch, or the bed whenever available. 

You see how Nancy turns the lights on and off quickly, just enough to mark her way through the trees, not following the main road so no one would stop you all. Your hands were gripping the couch tightly, not wanting to look out the window, not wanting to look back, but you were itching to do so. 

It takes time because Nancy is going as slow as possible so the motorhome would not do that much of a sound thanks to the engine. You know that people are already sleeping by now, except for the guards at the front gate, and you are taking the closed off one. The one in all chains. 

Once you reach it, Nancy stops the RV right in front of it, Eddie getting up from the passenger’s seat to walk towards the cupboard underneath the sink of the kitchen, taking out some bolt cutters. Your eyes widen as he pulls those out and you turn to look at Nancy.

“Hang on, you are cutting those open– you are going to leave the gate open for all the community inside here!” Nancy sighs at your outburst and you hear the clanking of chains, you turn your head to see Eddie holding a new pair in his hands and a lock.

“We are not that reckless and selfish. It took me some time to find a spare pair of chains this size, and a lock, but– It’ll endure.” With those last words, he jumps off the RV, and you rush to the passenger seat to see him get into action, grabbing the cutters and start snapping the chains away. 

You’re biting your lip as you see the metals falling piece by piece. Eddie hesitates for just one second before he snaps open the last chain. He pushes one of the doors open slightly and Nancy turns on the bright lights instantly. You see how he pulls it open even more and you see how there is nothing out there, giving you guys the green light to go. He gives a nod towards the two of you and pushes the first gate open and then the next one. 

His eyes widen when one bright light shines your way, the guard light tower pointing your way. The sound of a loud siren blasting suddenly and you realize you’ve been caught. Nancy and you motion Eddie to leave the chain behind, that people will put it back together instead of him. 

“Shit, shit, shit!” Nancy curses loudly. 

Eddie snaps out of it as he rushes to the doors of the RV, the motorhome starting to move forward as you hear the screams of people, telling you to stop, to turn back, that it’s dangerous out there. The front of the vehicle is out and you’re almost passed the gate when Eddie’s head turns to his left, his panicked face falling as his eyes widen. 

“Eddie, get in!” You yell, trying to snap him out, and Nancy groans loudly.

“Munson, I’m stepping the gas whether you get fully inside or not–”

“It’s Steve!” Her eyes widen as well as yours. She doesn’t stop moving, instead slowing down. 

You rush towards the window, popping your head out and sure enough, you see him. 

He is running fast even with a bag hanging on his back, two duffel bags on each side of his hips, his bat in one hand, the other gripping a flashlight tightly. You hear Eddie egging him on, to keep running because Nancy is not stopping, she can’t. You see the flashlights of people running towards you, right behind Steve, ready to stop you all from stepping into the danger zone. 

He can’t feel his limbs anymore from how much he ran, from how dumb it was to not tell the three of you that he had actually packed, leaving the bags in his room. Dumb to tell you that he left to give his last goodbye to Robin’s parents and Robin herself. He spent all day with her. Had breakfast, had lunch, and finally dinner. 

He lost track of time, and when he returned to the house, none of you were in it. His heart had crumbled to the floor, but it was just a few minutes late, so if he had any luck, you three were still near. He grabbed everything as fast as he could, rushing into the kitchen to shove one last thing into his duffel bag, and then run out. He ran through the woods with his flashlight, following the broken bushes and the tire trails the vehicle left. 

As soon as the RV came into view, the lights from behind him turned on, his panic rising as he didn’t have a chance to even catch a breath. He saw how the officers and the guards started running towards him with their flashlights, and he took off. He ran as fast as his feet could take him, trying not to think of all the weight he was also carrying. He could hear Eddie calling for him, his hand reaching out already for Steve to grab.

He knew that the moment he grabbed Eddie’s hand, Hawkins would be a thing of the past. She would be the past. Everything would be the past. But Robin would have wanted him to move forward. She would have wanted him to keep on going. She would have kicked his ass if she found out he was willing to throw everything away just for her. She would have wanted him to actually live.

So he grabs onto Eddie’s hand.

Eddie pulls tightly with a grunt, using all his strength. Nancy picks up the speed and throws her foot onto the gas when Steve manages to put one foot on the first step of the RV. Eddie drags them both inside, falling onto the floor with Steve. 

You are stunned as you stare down at them both. You snap out of it when you feel the cold wind, you run towards the door and shut it, locking it.

Steve is panting, no, heaving as he tries to recover his breath on all fours, staring at the floor. Eddie is sitting up, his hand coming to rest on Steve’s back. The three of you are silent, not having expected Steve to appear out of nowhere at the last minute. 

“What… What happened?” Eddie asks, his own breathing heavy from the whole ordeal, and you can just stand over them both, looking as Steve starts to shake, your eyes coming to meet in the middle in worry.

“I– I was saying goodbye– I forgot to tell you, I’m so sorry–” And you can hear the choked up voice, your heart turning with sadness as Eddie’s eyes glistened, looking at his friend. Nancy couldn't stop driving, but she turned her head for just one second to look and you saw how a tear was running down her cheek, her gaze turning back to the road.

“Steve…” Eddie’s voice is low, a whisper and it was the key that opened the gate to Steve’s emotions. Through his heavy breaths, you start hearing his sobs. Choked up sobs that he wanted to swallow down, but it was impossible. Soon, his tears were hitting the floor as he stared down at it, his fingers digging into the carpet as memories flashed in his mind.

He could almost picture Robin waving at him from the gate that people were already closing. He could almost picture how she would be smiling and jumping happily the more the RV drove away. How she would be cheering him on. His cries were loud, knowing there is a part of him that was being left behind, a part that he will never in his life get back. 

You could hear the sniffles coming from the driver’s seat as well, quieter than Steve’s cries of pain, and you saw how Eddie was keeping a strong face for both his friends, especially Steve who was still trying to breathe through his sobs.

You just stood there as you waited, wanting to comfort the man that was on the floor, but you knew better. It was a moment that he needed to have with his friends, with his family. You felt your own tears flowing down your cheeks. You didn’t know Robin, but from the cries of your new found friends, you realized she was loved. She was very much loved.

The road ahead was uncertain, but in Steve’s mind, only one little thing resonated, one little voice that he could hear despite the dark clouds inside it, and the screams coming out of his mouth. If he was imagining it, he hoped it would never leave him. He might have gone crazy, but he was so happy to hear her voice, at least one last time.

‘Goodbye, Dingus.’

☀︎

taglist: @prettyboyeddiemunson @thecreelhouse @tvserie-s-world @thesickestqrmydcll @crispystarfishhottub @sophal22 @definitionwanderlust @talkativecarnation @mysticalwoolenfroglegs @ariesandwolves @mortqlprojections @sattlersquarry @sherrylyn0628 @purpleeyeswithgoldensparkles @micheledawn1975 @keepingitlokiii @littleromanoff2005 @sunshine-mrk

[sneeb-canons]

Its pretty easy to tell if Heart or Mind are gaving s nightmare.

For Heart, he usually starts mumbling or muttering in his sleep, stratching as his chest or arms. He also looks extremely upset, usually.

For Mind, his breathing gets exponentially faster, and usually he starts shaking. He usually starts to grab at whatever’s closest to him.

Somehow, they both can just… recognize when each other is having a nightmare. They just know, even when the signs aren’t obvious. Especially when the nightmare is more like a flashback than anything else. They usually wake the other up and wait until they’ve both calmed down before going back to sleep.

oh yeah and then soul is just there LMAO- he does have a similar nightmare-radar instinct to heart and mind though.

Headcanon #381

[iluvangel]

⌌┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

┊ .˚ 🍥 ༘┊͙ Naruto guys kinks ; ‘🥛 „ ↴

⌎┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ Canon/non ? NSFW

A-Z order

୨⎯ 🍥 ⎯୧

ASUMA

Strip go ! : like strip poker but go, because that’s the game he’s always playing, every time one of you lose, the loser has to strip

Burning : he would enjoy marking you with the tip of his hot cigarette and pouring hot wax on ur soft exposed skin

Blowing the smoke from his mouth into his partners

DEIDARA

Creampie : “it’s like an explosion into your body!” He wouldn’t enjoy hurting you so his normal explosions wouldn’t be a bedroom thing; so this would be the next best thing in his eyes

Loud sex : he himself is a very loud person so whether it’s you loudly moaning and screaming or him it would get him off everytime

GAARA

Graphiocrotica : you drawing on him would be the biggest turn on for him every time whether it’s you just running ur fingers on his skin making random shapes, or using a pen, marker, or even paint. Full on leaving each shape and word on his body

Praising : not extreme praising like complimenting him on how his body moves in you that would embarrass him but calling him a good boy or even your good boy would be a need for him

HIDAN

Blood play : blood is literally his thing it’s obvious it would be a kind of his

Knife play : another thing to draw blood from you, or even the fear in his eyes and wonder if he will cut you or if he’s just dragging the blade along your exposed skin

ITACHI

Praising : as the respectful person he is praising you and letting you know your doing a good job would be his favorite thing to do “don’t stop your making me feel so good” “your doing amazing” “good girl”

Being blindfolded : the thrill of feeling you touch his body not knowing where he’s going to feel you next

KAKASHI

Exhibitonism : having sex or playing with you in public places, not public to the point where he’s fucking you in the middle of the road but public like in alleys or in the forest during/after missions. Places that people could walk in on the two of you

Marking : he would love leaving hickeys and bite marks all over your body, small ones on your neck for people to see when their talking to you, and bigger ones where only the two of you can see “these are our little secrets”

KIBA

Acarophilia : scratching, him scratching you is his biggest turn on, but when it’s you scratching him it makes his soul leave his body

Marking : unlike Kakashi Kiba would be more open about where he leaves hickeys and bites on you, your neck would always have two big hickeys on each side of your neck accompanied by little ones that lead down to your collar bone, and bite marks everywhere and anywhere, he thinks would look pretty

NARUTO

Praising : he would love any and every praise you give him weather it’s telling how good he’s doing, complimenting how he moves or even simply telling him how amazing he is

Sleeping with it inside you : need I say more?

NEJI

Sexual arousal from intellectual conversations : you debating with him whether you win or lose the fact your smart enough to hold your own would turn him on or even just you talking about something you know a lot about

Bondage : having control over whether your body can move or not

OBITO

Being tied up : if he’s in his playful tobi mood it would bring him such thrill being tied and bound, whether it’s his arms and ankles or just cuffs on his wrists it would turn him on

Discipline : if he’s in his more serious mode he would get off on punishing you, spanking you or simply degrading you would be his favorite thing

SASORI

Toys : he loves to make things that’s just his thing, but seeing the way you move and wiggle when they’re inside you would be his favorite sight

Double penetration : him in one hole and his puppets or toys in the other with you sandwiched in the middle

SHIKAMARU

You telling him what to do and bossing him around

Degrading : he would love to tell you how pathetic you are and what a little slut you are for him (knowing damn well you have full control over him and his body)

YAHIKO (PAIN)

Edging/orgasm control : he wants to tell you when you can and can’t cum, he wants to hear your cry’s and whimpers as you beg him to not stop

Degrading : just like Shikimaru he would love to tell you what a pathetic little slut you are, and how you’re such a whore for him

୨⎯ 🍥 ⎯୧

[tired-biscuit]

naruto is the kind of guy who begs to eat you out. like, he has *never* played it cool and you’ve always known he was into you. but one night he’s hanging out at your place and you look so cozy and domestic and soft and squishy and he just—“c’mon please let me make you feel good! you just look so cute!! i’ll be so good at it, i swear!!!” and when you say yes it’s the first time you see naruto actually focus on something that’s not training or ramen (turns out your pussy is the third and final interest naruto has in life) and he absolutely demolishes you—leaves you without your pants or your soul—on the couch.

18+ MDNI // cw: oral (f!receiving), unestablished relationship.

this is so cute, especially for like a situationship kind of thingy.

like, maybe there is an obvious spark dancing between you even if you aren’t exactly official yet. maybe you hang out a lot, but don’t call it dating just yet even if you love to do stuff together.

maybe you keep him company at the food places that are open 24/7 because he tends to get bored and hungry a lot and goes to bed super late, and maybe he sometimes spends the night at your place as a result afterwards; wrapped in your embrace and wearing nothing else but his underwear because he doesn’t have anything else to sleep in — of course.

maybe you keep making people assume that you’re a couple because of how you always make sure to sit together whenever you’re out with a group of friends, or how his arm is always draped around your shoulders, or how you’re constantly ruffling his hair and hugging him goodbye.

maybe you’ve even shared a couple of kisses and some heavy petting here and there whenever one drink too many got involved and he offered to walk you home from the bar even if he could barely stand upright himself.

that kind of thing.

so when he makes an actual move on you for the first time — completely sober and halfway through an excruciatingly shitty movie that he picked — you’re kind of surprised, but at the same time… not really?

after all, it’s pretty obvious that he likes you, it’s outright spelled on his forehead. and him being the confident guy who’s super open about his feelings, he certainly isn’t the type to deny it when he’s already dug himself a hole this deep. quite on the contrary, he tells you that he likes you right to your face.

you attract him. he finds you so cute, especially tonight, when you’re dressed in your little top that hugs you in all the right places and the comfortable shorts that sometimes ride up high enough for him to see the fat of your ass whenever you angle yourself just right.

but despite asking if he can eat you out and drowning you in compliments and eager promises, he can be quite the little shit when he wants to be, you know?

so he practically pins you down to the couch under the pretense of playfighting and initiates a doting attack of kisses that are peppered all over your face and that make your heart outright flutter with joy the moment you tell him yes. you can’t really blame him for it; he’s just very affectionate by default and has been waiting for literal ages to exhibit all that love he harbours for you.

you wiggle underneath him, trying to break free from under his weight so that you can return the favour, but his warm mouth is already making its way down your chest; leaving audible smooches that tickle and make you laugh quietly.

and even though he’s sunshine incarnate and all things good, he’s surprisingly strong when he wants to be. you squirm and instinctively try to push him away with the help of your legs, but it’s no use.

all it does is pull him closer. your legs are wrapped around his waist; he’s made himself so comfortable between them. his half hard cock is snug against your clothed pussy. the occasional friction you both experience makes you both breathe a little harder than you normally would and makes blood rush south.

he is very boyfriend material even if he isn’t your boyfriend, so the entire thing is literally just a series of loud kissy noises mixing with your squeals of his name. it’s fun and playful and sweet, just like he is.

and then before you know it, things escalate fast. he’s manhandling you into position, making you hug his head with your thighs as he licks you right over the cotton of your underwear, with your comfy shorts tossed somewhere on the floor and your cute top pushed so far up to the collar that both of your tits are out.

he’s messy and ardent to please. if the panties that you’re wearing are plain white, his drool will make them so damp that they’re practically see-through. he’ll make them stick to your pussy so that he can see the literal outline of it; tracing your sticky slit over and over again with the tip of his tongue and finger, shaping you out.

and then when those panties finally come off, sliding down your slightly trembling legs and ending up dangling from one ankle, he really goes to town.

he’s all sloppy kisses aimed at your cunt and tongue fucking and drool, drool, drool. he’s bright red cheeks and lustful blue eyes that remind you of a sea gone murky after a stormy night. he’s mussed hair in the colour of wheat that you just can’t stop weaving your fingers through, and an adorably smushed nose that keeps on pressing against your clit as he keeps on shoving his tongue in and out of your tight hole, tasting you so much and so deeply that your slick is practically dribbling down his chin.

he’s a calloused thumb being swiped over your nipple and a broad hand wrapped in bandages as it tigtens its grip around your thigh. he’s broad shoulders, a fast-beating heart and sweaty tan skin. he’s overstimulation and loud slurps and moans and raspy whimpers as he keeps moving his hips and practically humps the couch because of how fucking horny you make him.

and finally, he’s also ready to cum in his pants the moment he feels you clench around the two fingers he’s shoved into you at some point.

especially because the name that you end up moaning out is his.

[morganski-19]

part 1, part 2

Dustin visits the next day, sitting next to Wayne with the same book he’s had for the past few days. Turning to the page that was dog-eared, reading. Voices and all. Just like Eddie does when he’s practicing for one of those campaigns. Claiming that it’s better to get it down with someone else’s words so he can improvise. So he doesn’t have to memorize some script and can be in the moment. Let his mind do the workings along with the players. 

It’s one of the many parts of Eddie that Wayne sees in this kid. The dramatics, the drive. The snobbiness about certain things that don’t really matter to the rest of the world. But it matters to them, so it matters to the people who care about them too. 

If Eddie were awake, he might yell at the kid for turning the corner of a page instead of using a bookmark. Even though all the books he gets are second-hand and already torn and bent in all sorts of ways. But it’s about keeping the art pristine. The author put their heart and soul into this work, it’s not meant to be sullied. Wayne saw Eddie bend the corner of a page a million times over though, he just likes making a big stink about nothing. Just to get a rise out of people, make them laugh. Wayne can imagine that Eddie liked to make Dustin laugh a lot. 

“Have the doctors said anything new?” Dustin asks after finishing the chapter. 

Wayne shakes his head. “Same old, same old. Don’t worry about it too much though, he wouldn’t want you to.”

“He wouldn’t want a lot of the things that happened over the past week. So he’ll have to deal with it.” After a pause, he asks, “How are you doing?”

That makes Wayne laugh. “You don’t have to go worryin’ about me either. You’re just a kid.”

“And you’re just a man waiting for your kid to wake up. The same way I’m waiting for my friend to wake up. At the end of the day, we’re all still people. That sometimes need a break. So, how are you doing?”

It’s scary how much Wayne sees Eddie in this kid. “It’s hard comin’ here to hear the same thing every day.” That’s all Wayne’s willing to say to a kid. 

Hard is definitely a word most people would use to describe his situation. Difficult, disheartening. Maybe even hopeless. But there’s still some hope in this old heart that keeps Wayne coming back day in and day out. Keeps him moving while only getting a few hours of sleep a day. Cause as soon as the night comes around, it’s right back to the plant. Making the money to pay for the care his boy needs to keep living. To pay for the roof over his own head enough so he’ll live to see it happen. 

Truth is, Wayne’s dying here. From the fatigue. From the endless waiting. From the slowly draining pool of hope. Nothing seems to change. Nothing gets better. Six days in a medically induced coma with no hopes of ever waking up. Wayne’s not dumb enough to think that the chances increase the more days pass without him showing any signs of improvement. 

Part of him says that this is the state Eddie will be in for the rest of his life. Wonders if it’s worth all of this just to keep him alive. If he’s really suffering in there and would be better off resting forever. But then the heart monitor keeps beeping and his brain is still active. Wayne’s boy is still in there, he’ll come back soon. 

“Yeah, I bet that’s hard. I still have hope though, I was there when he came in. He looks a lot better now.”

There’s a knock on the door that keeps Wayne from responding. It’s the Harrington boy, in normal clothes this time. Discharged. 

“Sorry to interrupt but your mom said it’s time to go home.”

Dustin dramatically rolls his eyes. “Which one, my actual mother or you?”

“Your actual mother, but I happen to agree with her. Come on, you got school in the morning.” Harrington crosses his arms, looking like he’s ready to start a standoff. 

But instead of fighting Dustin stands. “Have a good night Mr. Munson. I’ll still try to visit as much as I can even though school’s starting back up again.”

“Thanks, kid, I’ll try.”

Harrington ruffles Dustin’s hair as he walks out the doorway. Standing there for a beat before turning back to Wayne. “We’ve never officially met, I’m Steve.”

Steve holds out his hand, waiting for Wayne to shake it. Wayne debates whether that’s a good idea or not. Apparently, it takes too long as Steve returns his hand to his side. 

“I wanted to apologize for the scene I made the other day, you didn’t deserve that. I was just so shocked that they actually cuffed him to the bed. Still have him cuffed to the bed.” Steve looks at Eddie with a guilt that Wayne doesn’t understand. Like he’s the reason Eddie’s strapped to the bed. 

Wayne continues to say nothing, not quite sure what would be appropriate. Tell him that it’s ok, that it didn’t bother him. Or thank him for believing that Wayne knew was true. That his boy was innocent. 

There was more to this story than he knew. Something to do with the kid being there and the rich boy standing in the doorway looking like this is all his fault. When Wayne knows the same scars mark Steve just as much as they do Eddie. Steve made sure that everyone knew that. Using it as proof that Steve was there, and that Eddie was innocent. 

Steve was ready to offer himself up as a witness for a man that the town hates. Wayne should be grateful for that, but it doesn’t seem right. They were part of different worlds. Different status, interests. It didn’t make sense for them to be in the same place at all. Yet here they are supposedly having gone through the same vicious attack. 

“Let me know if you need anything,” Steve continues when Wayne stays silent. “I’m more than happy to help out. Eddie was kind of a new friend and I hate seeing him like this as much as you do.”

“I seriously doubt that,” Wayne snaps. He hates charity, especially from this kid. For some reason he doesn’t really understand why. 

Steve is taken aback. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend.”

“I’m sure you didn’t, but you did. I know my boy and I know how my boy thinks about people like you. So don’t go ‘round gaining sympathy points from the real people who are suffering.”

“I, I wasn’t,” Steve stammers. “I would never.”

“Steve,” Dustin yells. “Get your ass moving, we’re your ride too.”

Steve sighs. “Coming, Jesus. I’m sorry for offending you. I won’t bother you again.”

Wayne shakes his head when Steve leaves, letting out a deep sigh. Maybe he was too harsh, maybe he wasn’t harsh enough. He’s not sure. 

He’s not sure about a lot of things anymore.

part 4

tag list, let me know if you want to be added or removed: @the-they-who-nerded, @insteviewetrust, @croatoan-like-its-hot, @jettestar, @tinyplanet95, @steddie-as-they-go, @slv-333, @littlecelestialmoth, @thatonebadideapanda, @fandomsanddeath, @marismorar, @wonderland-girl143-blog, @glass-bottle03, @gutterflower77, @here4thetrama, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @jaytriesstuff, @cryptid-system, @manda-panda-monium, @resident-gay-bitch, @anaibis, @xxsutherlandxx, @forevermineliv, @mugloversonly, @gregre369, @n0-1-important, @different-tale-student, @spectrum-spectre, @tartarusknight, @devondepresso, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @cheertain, @anti-ozzie, @autumncrocusandladybug, @greeniebean911, @cr0w-culture, @stillfullofshit, @connected-dots, @daisynotquake, @morgannotlefay, @a-little-unsteddie, @dolphincliffs,

[ethereance]

Au where Lance is "secretly" the Grim Reaper (it could be either like Lance being very obvious about it but everyone thinking he's a theatre goth nerd until the very end where he reveals himself, Or it being kinda like Pidge situation where Lance thinks he is hiding it very well but everyone in the team (save for one person) knows it and go, "well he doesn't seem like he wants to hurt us and besides it might be helpful to have Personification of fucking Death itself on our side")

(I think the reason behind it is that Voltron's reawakening is destined to bring a lot of death and new beginnings and he has to be there to see it all through. Besides Zarkon and Honerva have been running away from him for far too long)

Ooooo, cooking up an intriguing au there anon!! It’s food for thought. Lance being literal Death would certainly change things. The plot, him as a person (how much of him is a mask, a role, how much is genuine?)

-A big part of his homesickness for Earth stems from his family. Being Death—do these people still exist? Are they simply souls now of those who passed long ago (souls he still can communicate with being death and all). How did he become Death? Did he always exist as Death from the very beginning, or is it a role passed down through his family, randomly appointed, did the OG Death make Lance take on his duties for a deal to bring someone back—did Lance lose someone like one of his family members? Was Lance his original name, a name he goes by when he’s faking human? Is Death a separate entity that fuses itself to people and forces them into this position? Are his canon family just random people he inserted himself into the lives of in an attempt to feel normal? Reincarnations of people he’s cared about in the past? Do other reapers exist to collect other souls when Lance is preoccupied? Does he send out projections of himself to do that? Did he not mean to become a human, somehow bound to his human form (and souls are stuck as ghosts, unable to move on)?

-Is he Death for everywhere? Are there Deaths for different planets and cultures? One person from every planet has an assigned soul made into Death?

-If you go the route of being super old ™ what draws him to the garrison? Does he still have those dreams of being a pilot? And this is him enjoying what spare time he has with a hobby, of seeing how far humanity has come with going to space, of living a dream maybe he once had? Is he there on a dare? Did he join because of what happened with Shiro—didn’t sense his death—and felt something big was afoot? Or what you said about Voltron’s reawakening drawing him there? Or is it all coincidental? Did he know Blue was nearby but it wasn’t yet time? Has he bumped into Keith around the cave?

-Lance could be homesick for another time, another place (his dynamic with Coran would intrigue me in this sense). Also, if he was older, his level of maturity would be different. Not personality altering—this is still Lance, he’s still gotta have his playfulness—but in his eyes he’s Death in space with a bunch of kids causing chaos. Some holiday, right?

-Being Death—maybe Melenor, or the part of Alfor’s soul that isn’t with Haggar, is tied to the castle of lions still. Either parent would want to watch over Allura, and wouldn’t feel ready to move on without that. Maybe it’s that determination that keeps them from losing sense of self.

-Or maybe there’s no ghost and he mentions off hand about their current incarnation. Maybe Allura asks to see them again—and she knows it’s not them but. Are they happy?

-Maybe he knows other worldly entities like Bob. Just imagining beings like them having semi-regular meetings in their sleep on an other plane of existence. Lance shows up in full paladin armour and the others are like ‘what did you do this time?’

-He would be extremely confused at Shiro’s death in s2. He can sense he’s departed from this world, but where’s the soul to collect??? It’s gone. Poof. This wasn’t supposed to happen. It’s still not yet his time. When Clone Shiro shows up, he knows he’s different, but where’s the original soul? Something is blocking him.

-Zarkon has met Death before. When he tried to collect him. But his soul was elsewhere, and what was left of him was clinging on, tainted. There’s a strange familiarity when he encounters Lance.

-Lance just having. So much beef with Zarkon and Honerva. He doesn’t really want them in his domain, but they’re annoying him. Can’t they just die already?

-Shiro has a morbid sense of humour to cope ™. Lance offers him a high five every time.

-Lance says that ordinarily he’d feel like Shiro not crossing over was cheating the system (and Keith instantly had to ask if he was planning on taking him back) but Haggar’s the big fish. There’s more to worry about. So stick it to the system for once.

-He lets Keith and Krolia see Keith Dad one more time in a shared dream. It’s all he can do. But Keith appreciates it.

-Lance’s body is human but he is Death and therefore cannot die in the same way others do as Death is eternal. Catch him being a little reckless with his life in the eyes of others.

As for the reveal:

-Him just. Not hiding it. And all these things being ‘just Lance’ things.

-‘I am Death.’ Will get mistaken for ‘deaf.’ Hunk started learning ASL for him.

-Hunk: “We’re all gonna die!!” Lance pulling out a sand timer out of nowhere as he’s trying to be encouraging: “Not yet you’re not.”

-they bump into some alien who just. Sees him and knows. Instantly. “No!! I’m not ready!!! Don’t take me!! I can’t die yet!” Pidge, rolling her eyes “Lance have you been scaring the locals?”

-Has met many celebrities upon collecting their souls. No one believes him.

-Often after battles no one can find him for a while. He’s helping out the departed.

-No one picks up on this because why would they? Lance being Death simply never crosses their minds. He’s not exactly what you’d thinking of when you say grim reaper. Where’s the grim? He’s too. Well. Lance.

-And then it happens. Maybe they get some undeniable evidence, maybe it’s because of the Shiro situation. I don’t know. *Insert however you imagine it going down here anon*.

-On one hand it’s Lance and ‘what the heck do you mean you’re literal death’, on the other, to them at this point why not. Pidge is a girl, Keith’s part galra, Shiro’s a clone, Lance is death, sure. Okay. They’ve seen it all. Hunk it’s your turn to share, what’s your secret?

-And he just shrugs and says he wasn’t hiding it.

-At least Hunk’s ASL came in handy as a skill

-BUUUT if you go with your other option. Of no one knowing.

-Identity shenanigans are always fun

-Coran confronts him about the scan he took of all the paladins to understand more about their physiology. There is something off about them. And whoops he tried his best with a human body but you do miss some things. He just laughs and says he’s built different. A+++ save.

-Blue knows and therefore all the lions end up knowing

-Allura learns through the mice (though at first she can’t believe what she’s hearing. Because Lance??) They’re her information network.

-The biggest slip up is through the paladin bonding exercise wherein they connect minds. For a second—his family look like skeletons.

-His bayard turns into a scythe which he glares at until it becomes a rifle. It’s not like he’s used a scythe in years. He much prefers being a sharpshooter.

-Shiro goes in s2 and Keith immediately tells Lance to bring him back. And he’s all what??? And Keith goes ‘I know you’re Death. If he’s gone, bring him back!!’ ‘It doesn’t work like—how do you know I’m Death?’ Queue everyone realising that everyone knew. Like it was some big open secret.

[ancha-aus]

RealAgeAU Drabble - Parentalbond Horror

*grinning* I am baaaaaaaack!! @spotaus get over here :D

So. I had the difficult choice on which drabble i wanted to write so For now I settled on this one because I haven't had the chance to write a drabble with Horror's pov since a while and that is a crime.

First Drabble here Prev Drabble here Next Drabble here

As always we go in unbeta'ed and unedited.

*-----------------*

Horror checks the windows again before turning back to the couch and seeing Nightmare just staring at him.

Horror tils his skull "sleep will be easier if you actually lay down...." And he looks pointedly at the couch.

Nightmare gains that stubborn glint in his sockets again as he huffs "I am fine. Not tired at all." he looks at the pile of bags in the corner of the room wishfully.

Horror has to keep his chuckling inside as he answers "Shame then that it is bedtime for young skeletons." And adult skeletons. Horror glances at the other three. All KO on the other couch, all still dressed in their normal clothes and none of them actually finished their meals.

Horror will have to pack up the leftovers. Make sure nothing goes to waste. But he will let them sleep for now and just make them eat a big breakfast. But all three had been running themselves ragged lately. Especially after the last encounter they had had with the Stars.

It meant they have been making more jumps and teleports and not going out as much to collect things to make it easier for them.

Horror walks over to them and puts one of the blankets in this apartment over them, he doesn't bother to try and pull them away from one another. The four of them always had the habit of sleeping in a pile and that habit only got worse once they started searching for Nightmare and reclaimed him.

Horror checks Ngihtmare's plate and smiles "You finished it all today." No wonder he is grumpier and more active than usual.

Nightmare pulls a face and crosses his arms. Horror walks over and nudges him at his shoudler "Sleep time." and he waits.

Nightmare grumbles more as he pushes the blankets and pillows around. Horror just crosses his arms as he waits. Nightmare huffs but lays his skull down on the pillow and glares at him.

Horror knows he is grinning but he is proud to say he doesn't actually snort or laugh at the grumpy face Nightmare is pulling. instead he moves closer slowly, the first week of watching Nightmare flinch at every movement and sound had been horrible, and puts the blanket over him as well.

Nightmare doesnt complain about it. Most likely becuase he just saw Horror do the same for the other three.

Horror nods and sits by him "Time to sleep." it is his turn to keep watch and he plans on taking ti seriously.

Nightmare huffs but just turns his face further into the pillow. Tiny body starting to relax with the simple comforts.

Horror tries to not be obvious as he keeps an eye on Nightmare.

Horror knows of course what is going on and he is trying to not give in. At least one of them should not give into the adopting.

Horror can admit he had been surprised that Dust was the first one to actually soul adopt Nightmare. Especially after only a week. It had been so fast and the transition between the before and after state had been so smoothly that Horror had honestly thought that Dust had done it on purpose and planned.

It would have made sense. Dust had been the one to find the book first and been the one to actually manage to get Nightmare back to them.

Only for it to become obvious that Dust had no idea what he had just done.

Soul adoption is a rather normal thing for monsters to do. Though in most universes they rarely happened as monsters don't tend to abandon children.

But well, Horror's AU had been one with starvation and a lot of fighting. People lost their lives in multiple ways. That meant quite a few orphans.

Soul adoption happened when an adult monster willingly took the role as caretaker for a younger monster who doesn't have a caretaker. There are a few more factors obviously but Horror doesn't know all of them of the top of his skull, especially not now with that hole in it.

What it comes down to? Nightmare is an orphan and has no one he could go to that could take care of them, and all of them know this. Dust found out first and surprisingly his soul was open enough to the idea to accept Nightmare as... well... his.

There are more hurdles in this situation of course. The fact that they Nightmare they knew was an adult, which is what Horror thinks is tripping up Cross. But Dust had been very quick with accepting that Nightmare is now a child and so immediantly treated him as one.

Killer took a bit longer but quickly fell into step as well. Calling Nightmare tiny boss and going from his right-hand-man to his babysitter, Killer's words not Horror's.

Horror is however a bit surprised that Killer also soul adopted Nightmare. In theory it shouldn't have happened as Nightmare at this time already had Dust as his caretaker and so technically didn't need one anymore.

Seems like Killer's soul didn't agree with that.

Horror can't say a lot about it though, seeing as he can feel it happening with himself as well. And he has no doubt that Cross is very close to giving into his own instincts and feelings concerning this as well.

The whole thing with their last interaction with the Stars is a very big give away. Even if Cross felt very embarresed by his own reaction.

At least Nightmare is no truly convinced that they won't harm him and will help him. Horror is happy they managed to get there and with it having only been a month since they took him with them. Horror can say they did a good job.

Nightmare has falled asleep.

Horror move slowly and silently and puts two fingers to the the side of his small belly and feels.

Horror may not have a lot of magic himself but his AU was left him with a very useful skill. Wiht how little food there was available and how little magic there was there came issues. One of the issues was that after a while the magic monsters had wasn't strong enough anymore to digest the food that the mosnters did manage to eat. meaning that even if the monster ate food they would not get any energy or new magic from it.

Meaing that even if they ate they would continue to starve.

Wiht how difficult it had been for Nightmare at first to eat or even remember to eat Horror had worried something simular may have happened. That being in the goop form had caused his own magic to grow too weak to be able to function fully.

But all Horror feels is the soft and quiet purr of NIghtmare's magic working hard to use the offered food to rebuild the babybones' small reserves.

Horror sighs a sigh or relieve and just watches Nightmare for a moment. Nightmare, having noticed the pressure on him, makes an unhappy sound and his socket flutters open to give him a sour look.

Horror chuckles as he whispers "I apologise." Horror is unsure how clear his answer is as Horror himself is purring like a loud law mower at this point.

Nightmare blinks at him, still looking like the tiniest little grumpy skeleton this multiverse has ever known, before closing his sockets again and turning on his side. surprisingly not away from the touch and light hold.

Horror watches the other. It is strange. They are all different yet Nightmare still has them all completely under his control. Yet it is in a completely different way and Ngihtmare now doesn't even seem to realise it.

Horror leans on the couch and watches their tiny charge just sleep. Horror had managed to keep the need to complete an adoption at bay by reminding himself that Nightmare already had a caretaker- well two and a half now, Horror is sure that all Cross still needs to complete the soul adoption is a tiny nudge. Horror thinks that Cross is jsut thinking too much about it and doubting his own instincts and feelings.

But that still leaves Horror, and what he wants to do. He figured that it would be better to at least keep one of them unbiased in this nature, just in case that Nightmare suddenly turns into an adult again. But the longer this went on the less likely it seemed to Horror.

Not to forget. Horror doesn't even think Nightmare wants to be an adult again. Not now that he is a child but doens't have to vigilent every moment of every day.

Does he technically already have caretakers? Yes. Does Horror still want to count himself as one? Yes.

So. He just picks for himself.

Horror moves slowly and quietly as he picks Nightmare up. Nightmare grumbles in his sleep at being moved but calms when his magic recognises Horror.

Horror gets comfortable on the couch and lays Nightmare on his sternum. He can still feel the tiny soul beat and pulse fast even through two shirts.

Horror pulls the blanket back over Nightmare and waits.

It doesn't take long as Horror can feel the slight pull on his magic and energy. Hardly noticable and Horror doubts that if he wasn't so paranoid about his own levels he would have noticed.

It is something tiny monsters do. To help stabalise and sharp their own magic they try to take tiny bits of their parents, or caretakers in this case, to help guide them. It all happens naturally.

Horror just holds the tiny babybones closer and feesl Ngihtmare's soul slowly start to match Horror's own soulbeat and he feels all the calmer.

Now it is pretty much done. Horror will have to probably deal with this decision one day but for now he is happy. Their tiny babybones is comfortable and everyone is resting. Tomorrow they will have to worry about getting supplies and where they can go and eventually where they will sleep that night.

But right now? Right now he doesn't have to worry about that. and all he ahs to worry about is that their babybones is comfortable and healing.

*-----------------*

First Drabble here Prev Drabble here Next Drabble here

[somewhere-in-wales]

What if, in this moment, Aziraphale & Crowley found themselves unexpectedly transported to our world?

And then met these two idiots?

And they all had to work together to get Aziraphale & Crowley back?

I wrote a fic about it (When Worlds Collide). Here are some nice things people wrote underneath its chapters:

"I can't tell you how much I'm in love with this fic. Like I want to marry it, right now! The amounts of times I literally shrieked with laughter reading this. I had to stop to wipe my eyes, I am dying"

"In love w this actually. the SHENANIGANS!!!! this was a joy to read"

"this fic is eating me alive. an immediate cult classic. if i had your permission and any ability to execute this at all, i would bind this fic in leather and carry it with me all my days like a spiritual nomad with their dearest tome. You Are Taking Me There."

"JFJDJDJDJFJFKDUSHCMCKCD I NEED TO GO TO BED BUT THIS FIC IS SO GOOD"

"Oh, Chapter 4 is my favorite so far. And that's saying a lot, because every time I read a new one I think 'there's no way this can be topped...it's too good, too funny, too fresh a take on these characters"

You can find it on AO3 here When World's Collide, there's an exert below, and if you're feeling generous enough to do a little signal boost re-blog, I will love you forever.

"Terribly sorry, but I wonder if I might help settle this business about whether we are who we say we are?"

Michael and David exchange glances.

"I doubt it" says Michael, reaching around the door frame for his water bottle whilst stepping out of the bathroom to take a swig. Aziraphale sweeps his hand in an arc as Michael puts the bottle to his lips, glugging. He immediately coughs and spits red wine forcefully across the room.

“Holy shit!” Exclaims David, jumping backwards to avoid being splashed.

"What the Hell was that for?" Michael splutters angrily, wiping his mouth, eyes moving between Aziraphale and Crowley

"Did you swap that out when I was filming?" he asks, irritably, looking around at the mess. "You've completely ruined the costume."

"I do hate to see it ruined," Aziraphale worries, glancing at Crowley who mock pouts. "No harm done to the furnishings at least" he says, as the stains miraculously disappear. He turns to Crowley again, appealing.

"Yes, fine" responds the Demon, getting up dramatically. He eyes Michael, who's still agitated, and feels like someone is looking into his soul. The gaze of an actual Demon, not just his acting partner, is enough to stifle any remaining irritation. With his eyes fixed on Michael, Crowley lifts his hand to click his fingers, and removes the stains from the actor's costume completely. Michael looks wordlessly at where the stain was, and raises his gaze appealingly to David.

"It's not... they can't... this is ...." he tails off, walking over to the table and sitting down.

Crowley sweeps his eyes over David's features "he's Aziraphale?" he asks, a depth of skepticism to his tone, "this guy?"

"Yes", says David "he's lovely really" Aziraphale side-eyes David before flitting his gaze to Crowley.

"And you're me?" Crowley asks slowly, with equal depth.

"Y...yes" says David with rather less confidence. Even underneath the dark glasses, he can tell the Demon is searching his eyes. "I might just take the contacts out" he says, to no one in particular, and ducks back into the bathroom.

"They'll need our costumes back. Where are you two going to sleep tonight?" Michael asks.

"Oh I don't sleep" Aziraphale shakes his head as though he's been offered an unappealing appetiser.

"I do"

"We'll get you a hotel room" says Michael. Aziraphale and Crowley exchange glances and Michael resists the urge to settle their discomfort by saying they'll get two. This situation is ridiculous, but he'll be damned if he isn't going to have a little fun with it.

"Thank you" Aziraphale offers, politely.

The door to the bathroom opens and David comes out, eyes back to normal. Crowley looks him over, flicking his eyes to Aziraphale, gauging the Angel's reaction. Aziraphale stares at David's face, breathing slowly, mind retracing memories long gone, but never forgotten.

"We better go then" Crowley huffs.

"Not dressed like that" David gestures to Aziraphale, who looks down at his clothes fondly, smoothing down his jacket.

"I have standards, you know?" He says.

"He's not wrong" Crowley agrees.

Michael, who had been watching Aziraphale's reactions thoughtfully, taking mental notes, speaks up "if we go in pairs and break up leaving, it's possible that no one will notice two David and Michael's leaving."

David looks uncertain.

"Unless you have a better idea?" Michael asks, "One, single, better idea?" Crowley and Aziraphale both flick their heads to look at Michael in recognition.

"No, let's do that" David relents. "I'm going to change." He steps back into the bathroom.

"Me too" says Michael, heading for the door "I'll be back in 5 minutes."

A few minutes later, Michael returns in the outfit he arrived in that day, to the general disdain of Aziraphale.

"Do you still think we should come to an arrangement?" Asks Crowley, smiling at this turn of events.

"I can't wear that" Aziraphale gestures to Michael's clothes, completely failing to hide his disgust at the suggestion he should wear such an outfit.

"What's wrong with this?" Michael asks. He's wearing jeans and a shirt, nothing worthy of such disdain. His question is ignored.

"You have to, Angel" Crowley teases, just as the bathroom door opens and David enters in a bright purple jumper. Crowley looks at him, then back at Aziraphale, a panicked expression briefly flicks across his features. The Angel raises his eyebrows and puts his hands on his hips in a look that communicates 'your move'.

"Oh Hell no, that's not happening" the Demon states. Clicking his fingers, he changes Michael and Aziraphale into sharp suits, David and himself into slightly-less-tight-than-usual black jeans and a slim black shirt. "Take it or leave it" he says, glancing briefly at Aziraphale, who's eyes soften, and lips form a slight smile in thanks whilst he smooths down the well-fitting suit.

"Yes, much better" The Angel sighs.

"For you, maybe, I'd never turn up to work in this" Michael fiddles uncomfortably with the collar.

"You should dear, you look ...nice" Aziraphale says, moving over to Michael to smooth his collar. Michael frowns at the Angel, noting the back-handed compliment.

"The hotel's not far," says David. "I'll call for a car. I'll take Aziraphale." Aziraphale and Crowley exchange glances in silent resignation. "We should wait at least 10 minutes before you call for yours" he raises his eyebrows, a quick glance at Crowley. He reckons he has the easier job.

"So, I'll be pretending to be..." Aziraphale gestures to Michael.

"Michael" Michael looks unconvinced by this.

"Yes, I know, I just wondered if there's anything I should know about you?"

"Probably best if you just don't talk" Michael glances between Aziraphale and Crowley. But Aziraphale looks very uncomfortable at this suggestion.

"He's an actor" David tries to offer something that will help.

"Yes" Aziraphale responds in a tone that shows his patience is wearing thin.

"He lives in Wales" David tries again.

"Oh," Aziraphale smiles, a look of relief forming on his features "Oh lovely, I do love the Welsh Coast" he beams, looking at each of the other trailer occupants. "Yes, yes I think I can handle this" he nods, confidently, adjusting his cuffs.

David smiles back, broadly.

Michael and Crowley are less confident, their eyes meet with a knowing expression of concern.

Continued here

[summercreolefanfictioner]

the scent wafts in, her name making him beg on his knees chap 1.3

pairing: dabi / todoroki touya x fem!oc / reader (MODERN AU)

summary: He mentions her name after 6 months in therapy, absentmindedly narrating vivid memories of her. She was the only good thing during his darkest times.

(In which Touya returns home after rebelling against his family for 7 years. And no, it wasn't about forgiveness. He wanted to fix himself because of a certain someone.)

themes: nsfw, domestic abuse, violence, alcoholism, cigarette smoking, toxic relationships, mental health, co-dependency and other related themes (YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED)

notes: for this one, pls keep in mind that touya didn't have much scars on his face; mostly are on his body to accommodate the plot; charas might be ooc since this is modern au

He mentions her name in his room after 6 months in therapy, absentmindedly narrating vivid memories of her. She was the only good thing during his darkest times. Touya didn't know why he did it. Maybe because remembering his childhood was bringing him too much sorrow he needed a breather from these drowning emotions. He wanted a reminder of why he kept on living, and it was her. The reason he was here doing shitty rehab and therapy.

To be honest, ever since he opened up about the Sekoto Peak incident and the reasons behind his burnt scars, the darkness swallowed a part of him, reminded him that the past will never die and it will prevent him from moving on because he will never become the same Todoroki Touya he was back then. That's why he kind of listened to that devil on his head, urging him to destroy his soul and forget about healing. He will never heal. He will never get that damn redemption.

Todoroki Touya will never be forgiven as long as he lived.

One time, while he was out at the garden, he saw one nurse slip out a stick of cigarette and secretly give it to one of the patients. There it was in its smallest form. Temptation. The reason humans were slaves to vices. Touya could feel his mouth water at the sight. His head was begging him to walk towards the nurse, secretly get buddy-buddy with them, and grab a stick or two.

No, just one. Just one stick. It will be fine. I will not be addicted. Just to release the stress.

He quietly walked towards the nurse, glancing every now and then around him to see if someone will catch him in the act.

Just take it slow and nice, Touya. You can get your relief now if you do it the right way.

He was nearing the nurse when a question popped in his head.

Is she worth one stick, though?

Guilt. It was embracing him like an old friend, cuddling him like they were the bestest of friends.

Is she worth one sip of alcohol, Todoroki Touya?

Is she worth all those violent things in your head?

Hey, Todoroki Touya?

IS SHE?!

He stood there, in the middle of nowhere, contemplating this one bad decision in his life, the one that will alter the course of his direction. Why was he here anyway? Isn't it because of her?

"Do you want to become a better person?"

"Yes."

He grunted, clicking his teeth in annoyance as he walked back inside the facility and headed to his room, making sure his strides were as normal as they could be or else the staff would be following him around and restrain him. When he got inside, he slowly sank on the floor and let out a deep breath, relieved that he got to escape the clutches of the darkness again as sweat rolled down his body.

Of course, he knew the answer.

She was worth more than that. She was worth more than everything. She was fucking worth more than all the damn he could give.

He got up after a few minutes, slumped down in his bed and took out his mp3 player. This time, he played the song she listened to whenever she wanted to sleep. When they first met, she told him she craved someone to sleep beside her, so she would play this song a lot to sleep. It was ridiculous, but he adopted the same habit one day, when she was out for work and there was her vinyl player in the corner of her room.

He hit the play button and forced himself to sleep, whispering her name.

"..."

He smiled.

"... good night."

Drowning away, from the start to the end

Come and take my all away

Words come along to despair

And I'm here craving for your love to save me...

The song plays repeatedly in the background.

------

"She was fresh, white, laundered sheets, and soft skin, and warm smiles."

His therapist was wide-eyed, confused and surprised at Touya's sudden remark, thinking back on their previous sessions if he mentioned a certain woman with these characteristics. So far, the only women Touya had mentioned was his mother and sister. Describing a woman as fresh laundered sheets with soft skin and warm smiles was a lot more than what someone would tell about a family member.

Touya looked out the window. It was a sunny day, the same weather on that day when he noted the scent on her. While he knew he had to tell more about how his alcoholism and cigarette dependence, he just couldn't go on not mentioning her. She was the reason he wanted to change, after all.

"It was the morning after we did it for the first time," Touya absentmindedly continued his tale, unknowingly making his therapist slightly flustered that he would mention a bit of his sex life. "I never touched her despite living with her for the first 2 months, and then I just had the urge, and then... the next morning... she just made sense."

She was covered with the white sheets, her hair loose with a few strands slightly covering her face. Her fair skin was soft in his hands, and he felt afraid of breaking her (even though he had originally planned on ruining her before.) And there was that warm smile again, the one she kept showing to him even though he had no idea what he had done to receive those.

"Good morning, Dabi," she greeted, unaware of his real name at the time. "Is there anything you want for breakfast?"

"I should've asked her if it hurt," Touya realized, "you know... doing it with me and all. She told me before that her shitty ex just took her virginity when they were in high school without making her feel good. I wasn't there, but I would like to think she cried a lot."

"Did you ask her if she cried or was sad about it?" the therapist inquired.

"I am not the best person to say the best words."

The therapist was confused, thinking about the meaning behind his lines.

"What did you say... or do?"

"I... I hugged her, and I..."

"And you... ?"

And I smiled for the first time.

"That's a secret."

"O-Okay." The therapist closed his notebook. "What's her name?"

"Her name is..."

ps. the song he was listening to was Never Again by Karen Aoki (the link is up there for you to listen)

next chapter

masterlist

[shatcey]

༺𝓔𝓷𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓻𝓪𝓰𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓿𝓸𝓲𝓬𝓮༻

First of all I wanna thanks @mysticsmollpotatoad for the wonderful ideas. After I read them, it was like a nuclear bomb exploded in my head, and everything got out of control. Usually Willy just stands nearby and smiles encouragingly, but now... He was extremely persistent, demanding attention. It's so unlike him... I literally couldn't sleep... So in order to regain a peaceful life, I have no choice but to write the story he told me. It took me a while to find the time to finish the draft, but I'm quite happy with the result. I suppose you were expecting something completely different but... that's how I see it. Lots of thoughts, and I don't like to give the detailed description, hints give more scope for the imagination. The story from his POV. Around 1700 words. Warning: The mention of blood at the beginning. The story begins with a prologue.

Our first meeting didn't make a strong impression on me. I returned the fallen letter to her, and she only smiled shyly and bowed."Another person suppresses their true desires," I thought back then, "you would be much more beautiful if you set your heart free… You just need to take a step forward… maybe someday we'll meet again…"

We met again much earlier than I expected. The same evening.

By an unfortunate fate, she entered exactly at the moment when the man cut his throat. And bright red blood sprayed her face and dress. "How unlucky you are!" I thought. There was genuine horror in her eyes. An incredibly strong emotion. I completely forgot what a normal reaction to death looks like. She froze, staring at the motionless body. She opened and closed her mouth, trying to suck in air that desperately didn't want to get in...

I got up from the piano and her gaze shifted to me. There was so much emotion in her gaze. Fear and shock, the desire that all this was just a terrible dream, questions how? why? …

Come to me, you pitiful robin!- I commanded, but she didn't even move. The question "why" flashed in his eyes and nothing more.

A snort from Jude, a giggle from Alfons, and a surprised "what does that even mean?" from Liam were the only reactions.

She's deaf! - I replied. At my words she exhaled sharply, and suddenly her legs gave way and she fell to the floor. Why did it scare her even more than the corpse? I came closer to her and wiped the blood from her face. Her eyes, huge as cups, looked at me with such horror, as if I were a monster. And she doesn't even know what I'm capable of.

You're coming with us. Can you stand?

She tried to get up, but her legs still wouldn't obey her. I easily picked her up in my arms, her fragile body was shaking with shock and fear. Poor bird... she had to go through so much in one day. And it's not over yet…

What should we do?…

Victor took a dramatic pause, waiting for at least some reaction from us, but no one even thought to voice their thoughts. No matter what we say, Vic and only Vic makes the decisions. But to my great surprise, it was she who spoke.

I won't tell a soul!

Her voice vibrated like a taut string. Hoarse and frail. Clearly she very rarely speaks. But the power in her voice was incredible. She's a fighter. I would never have thought, looking at this fragile, shaking figure…

Hmm…

Victor frowned, as if thinking. But I could tell by the look in his eyes that he had already came up with something.

No one knows that I'm deaf. I can keep secrets...

Nobody knows? She is more than twenty years old, and no one even doubted? Didn't ask why she doesn't talk? How can this be?

Well, from today on, you will be the Fairy tale keeper of the Crown.

And so Kate found herself bound by yet another restriction... not to go anywhere without being accompanied by one of the members of the Crown. Victor assigned me to keep an eye on her. Most likely because our missions are doubly dangerous for a person without hearing. And with my ability, she'll be protected…

Next day

The next morning we went to the city. I thought that in a more familiar environment she would feel more relaxed and finally I would be able to see what she was hiding. But as soon as we were in the main street, my friends started coming up to us every now and then. I’m proud that so many people have found their place in life and continue their journey confidently, not afraid of their desires. But their gratitude is unnecessary. I‘m already happy to see them free. Once again, I felt her gaze on me. Is it too presumptuous of me to think that she is watching me too closely? I looked at her and she smiled at me. How strange… When a person is caught watching someone, they usually feel embarrassed. And here… It was as if she was waiting for me to look at her. Maybe she finally come up with something?

Do you have any suggestions? Maybe you want to go somewhere? To buy something?

She just shook her head, not taking her eyes off me. She continues to stubbornly refuse to speak. I can't figure out why. She took out a notebook and pencil and wrote:

You're very kind.

I read her words and wasn't even surprised. People often notice only what they want to see.

If that's what you think, then it's probably true...

I won't try to dissuade her. If she says what she thinks more often, someday I'll understand what she really wants…

A couple of weeks later

I can say for sure that she has an amazing talent. Because she had to hide her deafness for so long, she learned to read people, their thoughts and desires as easily as breathing. Sometimes I think she's even more skilled than me. But this constant indulgence of other people's desires completely destroyed her own. She reminds me of our kitten, but as a person she has already disappeared into the void. She only thinks about others, never about herself.

William... - her soft voice, which is becoming more confident day by day, brought me back to reality. She started talking a little bit, but it's already much more than it was at the very beginning. I smiled, encouraging her to say something else, anything else. I wanna hear your voice. I wanna know what you desire…

Play... -  She looked at the piano.

It's becoming our little tradition. She can't hear, but she likes to look at me when I'm playing. And if that's what she wants… I'm happy to oblige.

I started playing and she came closer. She still doesn't dare to stand close to the piano, stands at a distance and just looks at me. But it feels like the distance is decreasing every day. For some reason, I don't feel like she's getting closer to me. She hasn't changed much since the day we met. She still refuses to express her desires, no matter how hard I try to convince her to do something for herself.

I finished playing and looked at her. She smiled at me and nodded lightly.

You look happy.

Me? Happy? – I was genuinely surprised. She just nodded. Then a thought flashed across her face and she pulled out a notebook and pencil. She swiftly wrote something and showed it to me.

"You always look a bit sad. But when you play the piano… you are happy"

Is that why you're asking me to do this?

She just nodded.

But I thought that's what you wanted…

I want you to be happy.

Why?

I want all the people I love to be happy.

And... that's why you do what they want...-  it wasn't even a question. I finally got it. She doesn't want anything for herself because she's selfless. For her, happiness is to see dear people happy. She's whiter than white.

Isn't everyone like that? You help people too…

I'm doing this for myself, not for them.

She looked at me as if I had suddenly speaking a different language.

I love to see people become free.

But we are already free.

How can I explain this to her? I frowned, trying to find the words.

You know, William, I don't think you understand yourself.

You also want your loved ones to be happy.

And that's why you help them.

You and I are very similar…

I just want to see people do what they like.

I'm not doing this for them.

You think of others first. You and I are opposites.

And again, a confusion. She opened her mouth, but couldn't say anything. Throat. Of course, this is the first time she has spoken so much. I got up from the piano and poured her a glass of water from the decanter.

Kate took a couple of sips and smiled happily.

You did this for me…

I shook my head.

We are at a deadlock…

Kate put her glass down on the piano and looked at me. Her open gaze was filled with a firm determination that I hadn't noticed before.

I don’t think so…

I want you to do what you want, and you wanna do what I want…

And how is this a deadlock?

I opened my mouth and immediately closed it. She's no… I couldn't take my eyes off her, mesmerized. They seemed to burn brighter and brighter by the second. Or maybe it's me? Maybe it's me who lights up at the very thought that this is what she wants… Why is this so important to me? Their desires, their dreams... it's always the only thing that matters. When did I start to think that my desires were impossible to come true? I always thought that I was selfish and did what I wanted. Am I truly? Maybe she's right? Maybe we really are alike?

I don't know who made the first move, but the distance between us completely disappeared. Her every touch seemed to burn. I couldn't get enough of her breath, her taste, every sound she made. Before I completely lost control, I move away from her. But I couldn't tear myself away completely, holding her by the shoulders. She touched my cheek lightly, smiling sweetly.

You are happy now.…

There was so much tenderness and care in her voice that I could barely restrain myself from pouncing on her again.

Do you have any idea what you're doing to me?

She smiled softly.

The same thing you do to me…

How beautiful she is! Absolutely free in every word and gesture. How could I not notice it before? Her eyes are not clouded, they always shine brightly. Her words are strong and true, she never doubts or hesitates. She blinds me with how beautiful she is...

She pressed her lips gently to mine, and the barely held control string cracked. She had no idea what beast she had awakened…

It's strange that, in my opinion, it was Kate who seduced Willy, and not the other way around. And I'm still not sure what she thinks of him. So they turned the tables. Perhaps the reason is that the narration is from his POV. Perhaps if I had chosen write from hers, the impression would have been completely different. But when I started, I didn't see this girl at all, so it was easier for me to write from his POV. I see this couple as a perfect example of a completely opposite view of life. Their essence is the same - the desire to see the people they love happy, but the way they see how to make them happy is very different. Kate, think about the current moment… indulge their desires. Will is thinking ahead, how to free them. Kate behaves completely selflessly, Will, on the contrary, is very selfish. So the dynamic of their relationship can be very interesting. Whose philosophy will win? I see that Kate's, although she doesn't think about the future, just enjoys the current moment, her ideas are more solid and there are no gaps in them. William, on the contrary, contradicts himself, even he understands that. So he can be lured to the other side… It's not easy, but it's possible. Another possible outcome is that they came up with a another concept that would combine both. I haven't thought about it much, but I like that even more. But… it takes time to think about everything to make it looks realistic and simple. If Willy suddenly decides to give me any more ideas in this direction, I will definitely write about it.

dividers @.sweetmelodygraphics

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🔝 𝕊𝕋𝔸ℝ𝕋 ℙ𝔸𝔾𝔼 🔝

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[madelynhimegami]

Sig Guide

That this was finished on Crimmus was basically a coincidence, but honestly I've put it off for long enough. accompanying image is in Puyo 20th style instead of my normal style because this continues to be the best Sig I've ever drawn.

Also, your regular reminder that these posts are not intended to be the absolute truth of these characters, but based on my observations of them in official media. You are encouraged to re-interpret as you see fit.

Sig is a tired boy that doesn't want (and doesn't want to be) trouble.

He's actually a transfer student that relocated to Primp between Fever 1 and Fever 2.

What prompted his transfer is currently unknown.

When I say he's a tired boy, I mean he is tired. He moves and acts and speaks like he just rolled out of bed. He has similar levels of energy, too (read: not much).

Sig doesn't really talk a whole lot. Just enough to get straight to the point, when he can be assed to speak up in the first place. And when he does, it's usually pretty simple. In Japanese, he speaks with the simplest possible grammer using the simplest and fewest number of words.

Still, Amitie once pointed out that Sig's not the type to say something he doesn't mean. If he decides to speak up, it's to say something that he feels is important enough.

All that said, he can infodump very extensively about bugs when he's properly incentivised to.

As you might guess, his entomology knowledge is very extensive. He can rattle off scientific names of whatever bug he's got in front of him (and then some, a lot of some) from memory.

When he's especially engaged in infodumping, he actually speaks quickly and uses bigger words. In Japanese, he even says complete sentences!

Speaking of how he speaks in Japanese, Sig is unique among the cast-- and most people that speak the language in general-- to never use a personal pronoun/identifier. If he absolutely has to refer to himself in a way to make himself clear-- for example, "stay away from me"-- he'll say "right here" instead.

He struggles with studying, unless the subject is bugs.

Sig seems to really want to discover a new species of bug-- or, failing that, extensively study the behaviors of a bug that isn't as well-documented.

He can sleep pretty much anywhere. And while standing. He can even fall asleep with his eyes still open if he can't be bothered to close them.

Apparently his antennae actually are antennae. At the very least, they aren't just part of his hair.

His red left arm is not only bigger than his right arm, it's also much physically stronger. Careless use can cause injury to others.

It's also slowly getting redder. This is generally interpreted by fans to mean that the red part is spreading to more of his body.

Sig is very bothered by his red arm. The idea that it may spread all over his body (even as a joke) visibly stresses him out.

The soul that sticks out of his body seems to be visible to others. Sig may or may not be able to see it himself, though.

I've seen it interpreted by more than one person that it means he's dissociating. Makes sense to me, honestly.

Sig is has the ability to commune with other worlds. Part of that means he can interact with extraplanar entities around him.

Sig isn't lazy or apathetic, he's just tired and needs to be properly motivated to step up.

He actually knows Raffina and Klug's names, he just gets the former wrong and calls the latter "Glasses" as his way of teasing.

Teasing aside, he dislikes actively causing trouble, even going as far as to not communicate what he's struggling with so it won't become somebody else's problem.

(He's gotten a little better about it, but…)

His main method of coping is to just ignore the problem. If he acts like he doesn't care, neither will anybody else.

His secondary coping method is to stay far away from the something causing him trouble. And if he's the trouble, he isolates himself.

Sig enjoys banter, whether it be watching or participating. It's fun to see his friends bounce off each other.

Of course, sometimes he'll say something weird while not actually engaging in banter. He's just on his own train of thought. Or genuinely not paying attention. He might be too tired to try.

(this extends to getting Raffina's name wrong. Sometimes he genuinely can't be bothered to say it correctly)

He doesn't really try bantering with Lidelle, though. He tends to keep himself fairly grounded around her.

It seems that Lidelle does like to learn about bugs from Sig, especially butterflies.

He claims that Lemres gives him a bad feeling. What kind and for what reason isn't clear.

Sig's normal laugh is just him saying "ha ha ha ha" in his monotone. Despite it sounding that way, it's not fake.

(He also has a soft, more genuine-sounding giggle when he sees or hears something especially funny. As far as we know, only Amitie has heard it)

He genuinely does want to help people, especially his friends. He'll take more initiative when he's decided he's capable of helping.

Sig does not take kindly to acts of cruelty and will bite back at people that hurt others.

He also considers violence towards bugs acts of cruelty, whether it be feeding them to animals or using them as material components.

He once tried to hype Amitie up the same way she does to others. Energy-wise, it was still very Siggish, but he found it embarrassing to do.

Like Amitie, Sig often has supplementary classes after normal school hours. He's not especially happy about it.

Sig can think quickly on his feet in the face of immediately-impending danger, letting him fast-talk his way out of it. We saw this in the second Tetris 1 dream story, when he managed to trick Schezo into not taking his arm.

Speaking of which, him saying that he has bugs live in his left arm was a translation mess-up. In Japanese, he claimed that he was holding a bunch of bugs clutched in that hand. He then basically tells Schezo, "no backsies," so to me it sounds like he was bluffing to creep out the creeper.

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

“He sleeps against his father’s chest, and he does not stir.

Yuuta’s never seen Sensei look at anyone the way he looks at Megumi right now.”

OH MY GODDDDDDUGHHHHH THIS PEAK. I honestly teared up reading this bit. You can feel the love emanating from so many characters in your writing within this chapter, I find it so so moving. Thank you so much for sharing your writing!!!

I actually really like the kind of messiness of this moment because Gojo’s conflicted about that moment in a lot of the same ways that Tsumiki was conflicted about comforting her brother.

Earlier, Yuuta had said that Megumi seemed happier when Tsumiki was around. And Tsumiki had replied that she felt conflicted about comforting him, because she knows how private he normally is. She wanted to be there to comfort him, but she was worried it was just one more thing done to him that he didn’t want.

Gojo is feeling a lot of the same.

Like. Megumi was never that kid that was very open or cuddly. He was never that kid that let you carry him, even when he was tiny. He’s Gojo’s baby boy and he has the disposition of a feral raccoon with a biting problem. Do not touch him.

Gojo knows for a fact that Megumi would never in a million years let Gojo pick him up and hold him had the circumstances been normal.

There’s this unique act of love in allowing yourself to be vulnerable around others. It’s an act of absolute trust, if you think about it. I’m already hurt; I trust you not to hurt me worse.

And I think that makes it significant that Megumi doesn’t have that relationship with anyone.

He doesn’t let himself be vulnerable around Gojo. He doesn’t let himself be vulnerable around Tsumiki. He closes himself off and hides weakness and now he just can’t anymore.

I think Gojo in particular was aware of how Megumi doesn’t let himself be vulnerable around even his family, because Gojo is better suited to notice when Megumi’s hurt. Tsumiki knows her brother best, but it’s hard to hide from Gojo’s eyes. He notices when something’s wrong with his kids, and Megumi in particular.

He missed it when Megumi was a kid. He doesn’t want to miss it again.

So he sees it when something’s wrong in megumi’s world. And he sees it when megumi doesn’t come to them with it. He knows that megumi wouldn’t have let him hold him like that had he not been so hurt.

I think that Megumi was never really that kid that let you hold him, growing up. Even at age five, he was horrifically independent and had a very firm boundary line set between himself and absolutely anyone else. Baby Megumi never let Gojo lug him around, despite how adorable and portable he was. He sure as hell wasn’t letting Gojo carry him when he hit his teen years.

So. You’ve got this kid. You love him. Earth-shattering type of love. Soul-rending love. Sun, moon, and stars. Real “burn the world to keep him warm” type shit. He’s your baby boy, even if he’d fucking strangle you if you said it.

He’s just been hurt in a way that fucking horrifying. The most profound violations you can imagine. He can barely open his own eyes, he’s that hurt.

It’s probably your fault.

Because the assholes who hurt him? Those people? They’ve hurt him before, and you didn’t kill them for it. It wasn’t because it was right for your kid. Killing them for his safety would have been what’s right for your kid. It was just. Politics. Not only that, but the lynchpin of their plan counted on you not calling him once while they were hurting him. They banked their fucking lives on you not calling him even once in a week that included his birthday.

And they were right.

So yeah.

It’s probably your fault.

But you can’t turn back time. He’s hurt, and you’ve got him now, and all you want to do is comfort him. He’s your little boy, and you almost fucking lost him, you almost had to fucking bury him, and you just want to hold him while he’s afraid. You want to hold him until he stops shaking. You want to fix this.

And, at the end of the day, you just can’t deny how much he’d fucking hate that.

But you do it anyway. Someone needs to hold him, and you make it you. And maybe that’s just one more time someone did something to your little boy’s body that he didn’t want.

So.

How the fuck do you live with yourself?

[flyingfortress1]

Finished episode three of band of brothers:

-Firstly, Blithe, you poor sweet soul.

-I'm able to recognize Talbert, Shifty now! yeah! when they find Blithe. Don't know who the other guy is though.

-Also Perconte flashing like six watches is honestly kinda funny in a morbid way, and just- they're ticking unlike their owners- and the other dude starting to mess with them before getting slapped is funny too.

-Hoobler "My luger's gonna put you all to shame" NO Hoobler- stooop. Just stop. Stop now. is this foreshadowing intentional now, I gotta wonder? They're emphasizing his focus on getting a luger so much, it's like a core part of his character portrayal at this point.

-The healing hands of our lord and savior Dick Winters is so funny- Winters is so confused, and so is Roe. On a serious note- poor Blithe to have that happen, especially in a warzone, and not knowing why, is so terrifying. I can't imagine that happening.

-Also Welsh- now being able to tell who he is, and dude, he's got a little sharp crazy edge to him, honestly, just a little feral- I like him a lot. He's in this episode a lot and I'm down for that.

-I also find it funny, because, once again, poor Blithe getting freaked out by Nixon and Winters just popping out from the trees in the dark, in a combat zone- why aren't they using the password??? Literally, they were lucky Blithe didn't shoot them. Also Nixon, Winters, what were you up to?

-Poor Luz- guess its good to check before you throw the grenade. That family got very lucky.

-And POOR TIPPER- I felt so bad for him getting hit- interesting bit though is Liebgott comforting him and honestly being really sweet. I guess its because Liebgott is normally seen as very rough, cocky, prone to anger- so this was a new gentler side of him being portrayed in this moment which is very sweet, and a new dimension to his character- I wonder if the real Liebgott was also like that?

-Spiers. jesus Spiers. he's a fun, slightly unhinged dude that just likes to appear without warning- his speech to Blithe tho...I'm not sure if it was any help honestly. I'm starting to see why his yearbook quote was "he means well". Also the fact that that man does not blink once is just a little unsettling. The rumors scene is such an interesting one- I like how they show how rumors/gossip can exaggerate truth or distort it which I think was what they wanted to explore.

-and then there's Martin just trying to get some sleep and being annoyed with everyone moving around in his damn foxhole. that was funny honestly in the background.

-also Winters checking the street- oh it's fine, everyone crosses, Dick stays, gets hit in the leg- he's so annoyed by it too, in a very quiet frustrated way. gotta love Damien Lewis's performance honestly. I also can relate to, the feeling that if-I-just-ignore-the-wound-it-will-go-away logic, when Dick is trying not to limp lol.

-RIP Blithe- that bit when he's screaming in the foxhole is disturbing- which is the point I guess- it makes you feel so bad for him. I'm glad that he actually makes it past the war in real life. The symbolism of the edelweiss and him staring at the sky in the beginning and then in the end is really good too.

-also where he dies is soo green. You really realize how each episode loses its color saturation more and more until Hagenaeu.

[weird-bookworm]

ᴇʟᴅᴇʀ ʙʀᴏᴛʜᴇʀ!ꜱᴇᴠᴇɴᴛᴇᴇɴ

HYUNG LINE MAKNAE LINE

a/n: part 2 of the abomination i posted 4 (?) weeks ago

pairing: elder brother!svt x reader

genre: headcanons, fluff, crack, comfort

word count: same as before, around 1050-ish

warnings: mentions of food, mention of fire, a couple curse words, mention of harassing (dw nothing srs), idk what can be a trigger help a girl out here 😭

ʟᴇᴇ ꜱᴇᴏᴋᴍɪɴ

LOUD™

(dolby? who's that? i only know dk 👍🏻)

coddles you with love

clingy

no concept of personal space

unexpectedly protective

your room is practically his now

puppy eyes at you for everything

as if he's the younger one and not you

randomly starts singing

*soul left your body* even though you've heard him do it your entire life

despises it when you're sad

gets adorably angry at whoever or whatever made you sad— just to see you giggle

innocent babie

(protecc him pls)

aka you're more dirty minded than he is

might be the elder but you're stuck taking care of him

elaborate skits in the middle of the night

you don't tell him but you enjoy them as much as he does

ᴋɪᴍ ᴍɪɴɢʏᴜ

puppy personified

practically a giant

you often wonder if he took your share of tall genes

25/8 teasing you about your height

"want help shorty?" annoying smirk

"i'm not short you bitch, you're tall" angry pout

*cue giggles*

picks you up randomly and scares you shitless

always ends up cooking for you though

y'all have a very playful relationship

affectionate insults are as plentiful as his clothes

a giant dork basically

gets sad when you're sad

envelops you in his arms and holds you as long as you need

so so easy to prank

and so annoying because he knows every girl you know has a crush on him

flirts with your friends to annoy you

likes to cuddle

wakes up in your room 5 days out of 7

roleplays as your blanket and refuses to move

xᴜ ᴍɪɴɢʜᴀᴏ

you're his princess

the apple of his eye

he's very very soft for you

but you're the person he's fights with the most

Savage™

The sassy siblings ✨

y'all are more twins than anything

similar fashion styles

both martial artists

both self-assured

and really good looking 👀

pretty much a package deal atp

your friends are his friends, and his are yours

you're his forever priority

forces you to meditate lol

as in wakes you up early every morning and makes you sit and meditate with him

will not let you go back to sleep

safe to say he's the only person who's seen your whiny side

ʙᴏᴏ ꜱᴇᴜɴɢᴋᴡᴀɴ

dramatic

bickering

a lot of it

even bickers with your best friend 💀

does favours for you unprompted

"stop looking at me like that, i did it out of the goodness of my heart and this is the thanks i get, hmph"

*dramatically gets mad*

while you're there looking at him like •_• -_- •_•

later uses it as leverage

"remember that one time i brought you a glass of water? you owe me!" "i didn't aSK YOU TO DO IT!!"

embodiment of getting second hand embarrassment

no kidding, pretends he doesn't know you at anything remotely embarrassing you do

✨MaTeRiAl GwOrL✨

hallabong full of sass

only and only He can bully you

you have a problem? hold his americano, he's ready to throw hands

squishy lil tangerine

ᴄʜᴡᴇ ʜᴀɴꜱᴏʟ

chill asf

takes you to movies every weekend

sends you random songs he likes or songs that remind him of you

unbothered king

comfortable silences

hang outs include not speaking and listening to music

while chilling like starfishes on the floor and staring at the ceiling

strange lil guy

except you definitely take after him

down to the style of walking

bad dad jokes

never understands the good ones 💀

occasionally loud enough to rouse the entire neighbourhood

cluelessly cute

does silly things when you're sad

like sit upside down on the sofa

or just wear one of his out-of-this-world 'outfits'

he's secretly offended you're laughing but at least mission accomplished?

ʟᴇᴇ ᴄʜᴀɴ

the only remotely normal one

often complains that you're weird

and he's lucky that he got the better genes

constant fights over who looks better

often drags you to dance with him

whines for you to cook for him

even though his cooking is perfectly fine

once felt generous and decided to help you make dinner in high school

your parents came back home to smoke in the house and the fire alarm going off

don't think he doesn't notice you going soft when he laughs

often acts like the most typical 'oppa'

then both of you cringe and laugh together

sneaks out with you every friday

weirdly mature when the situation calls for it

once punched a guy in the face because he thought he was harassing you

had to awkwardly apologise because that wasn't the case. at all.

very very common and very very petty fights

[layraket]

Day 31 - Asking for Help

Character(s): Twilight and Warriors (LU)

Words: 654

Summary: Twilight is not handling things easily, Warriors knows this. It’s his turn to make the idiot realize how dumb it is to carry all that by himself.

Whump scale: 1 (see the full scale here)

Warnings: Grief

A continuation of Day 24, that is also a continuation of Day 14

Thank you all who have been there this whole month, I couldn't have done it without y'all support!

-

Nobody liked pointing out the empty space, they hated how often the though went through their heads. The chain is starting to do better, adapting to fill that empty space that was left.

Nobody dared to voice their doubts, the older ones making a silent agreement to let the younger ones process at their own rhythm, only doing something if they needed to.

They should have talked about this, Warriors would have suggested that even themselves needed to accept these conditions.

Him with Sky have been fuzzing around and taking care in how they will manage in the battlefield, changing some things to keep their usual plan to take down the camps without so much of a problem. Twilight stayed very far away from this.

He had been around Wind and Wild a lot lately, asking them how are they and playing with them. Sparring with Legend was also becoming very common, together with sharing some extra snacks with Hyrule and willing to hear Four talk about anything.

Twilight had always been attentive with the boys, so at first the captain decided that this was normal. If it wasn’t for the bags under the rancher’s eyes and how tired he looked, he wouldn’t have noticed.

One night, he offered himself to take third shift. The captain decided to stay with him.

“Ye should sleep, tomorrow we will be arrivin’ to the town” Warriors had been the one to do the talking almost all the time now, not sleeping some hours will not change that.

“You need it too” He said in a joking tone, knowing the answer that Twilight will give him if he lets him talk “The boys are sleeping and nobody seems troubled, and if something happens I will be there”

Silence fell between them, something comfortable that they haven’t had in a while.

“I can’t.” Warriors turned to see him, staying silent for him to talk when he was ready. “Th’y need me, or th’y will, I know it”

“But what do you need?” That question seemed to make the rancher pause, thinking a good response.

No one came. A broken sigh came from him “I dunno… I ‘ust…”

They both went back to sit in silence, the soft sound of leaves being moved by the wind, this one imitating the sound of an instrument that was able to soothe even the most troubled soul.

“I miss him.” Twilight’s hands were shaking while he tried to maneuver with them “I–I don’t know how he used t’ do all th’s… ‘m not sure if I can…”

“You don’t need to replace him.” Before another word came from the rancher he continued “Nobody could replace him, he was someone important for all of us and nothing could change that. Trying will just throw more salt to the injury.”

Warriors fought with himself during that whole first week, fighting to put a strong face and take care of everything. If it wasn’t for Wind and Malon, he would have broken so much early on.

 “So, just accept some help, will you? The others get to help each other, why would we not give you the same treatment?” He grabbed his brother’s hand, softly giving a squish to it. “If you don’t ask for it, we’ll have to auto-ask us.”

There was something in Twilight’s face, an invisible barrier that just now started to crack, some parts already falling down like a poor constructed wall. He squished Warrior’s hand back.

“Thank.” There were tears falling from his cheeks, not daring to stop now that there was nothing stopping them from coming out.

“You’re welcome” The captain opened his arms, giving an invitation to the wolf-hero to let it all out.

If there were eyes watching them, he ignored them. He couldn’t take his place and do whatever Twilight was trying to do, but he can be himself and help them in what he can.

[tsumuus]

Hiii! I couldn't help but notice your 555 event and I would really love to participate in it. Could you do a matchup with an MHA character in a romantic relationship? I am heterosexual (straight) and I am a female. I'm pretty chaotic but sometimes calm as well. I kind of have a lot of different personalities but I can be low key sadistic, insane, snarky to other people. I'm not really a fan of socializing with people, but that doesn't mean I don't have a few friends. Around others, I'm pretty quite and rude, indirectly insulting them but brushing it off like "it's nothing" or whatever, I mean I do try to have manners to, but there's an extent where that goes. I'll just say the usual but don't expect me to compliment. But around my like... one friend (don't judge me) I am laughing like a hyena with her at every tiny little thing. And we even go to food courts at a mall, sometimes coffee shops or just the park and sit somewhere in a corner so we can silently judge everyone and make funny stories up for them. I usually try to stay calm under pressure or stop myself from blowing up when I'm angry cuz if I do, it's bye bye poor human, you won't even need a grave to bury your dead body cuz your soul and lifeless being is being sent straight to god. But most of the time I try to stay calm cuz my best friend keeps me under control from outright insulting people and forcing on a smile. My love language is physical touch or quality time because I find comfort in just being with a person. Words don't necessarily have to be exchanged. I'm pretty chill with my receiving love language, but I prefer physical touch too. My hobbies are sleeping. Yes I like to sleep quite a lot. For most of the day that is. I guess you can say I'm pretty nocturnal since throughout the day I feel lazy but at night, I go with my friend to 24 hour grocery stores for snack runs and twice I have scared two employees by being a bit too dark and chaotic and my friend had to give them an extra tip so they wouldn't call the cops on us (yeah I think I need some help). I also like to think of serial killer stories for everyone and what would they go to jail for, whether it be teachers from back when I was in school, or my classmates from then, or anything for that matter. It gets pretty fun too. When it comes to dating, I really really need someone who is chill. Cuz if that person has a lot of energy 80-85% of the time, then I am sorry, he will have to deal with my lazy ass, I CAN NOT! I hate partying too, cuz that would mean socializing. Honestly, if I have my partner to yap to about stupid things I read on the internet, that is more than enough. And also I would like someone who would be able to deal with me like I am normal cuz I have a lot of weird habits and outbreaks so if he could just be like... "..." "okay moving on" ...that would be really nice. And I absolutely hate judgy people or people or try to give me unnecessary pity or beat around the bush. Because I really hate when they won't get to the point. And also, I wouldn't see it as a defect or anything, but just something unconventional, if my partner tries to get me to me to be more nicer instead of being snarky, that kinda sounds like big defect. But we could try working it out. And he shouldn't be like "Girls can't do this" or "girls can't do that" I will piak him to the sun to get his ass burned instead of roasting him myself. Basically, I'd like someone with an open mind. I really appreciate you doing this, thanks. I hope you have a great day ahead °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°

your perfect match is...

₊✩‧₊˚ shoto todoroki ! ˚₊✩‧₊

₊✩‧₊˚ runner ups: tokoyami fumikage and neito monoma ˚₊✩‧₊

✧₊⁺ he’s not one to get flustered or overwhelmed easily, so your chaotic energy and sharp wit wouldn't bother him

✧₊⁺ his nonchalant nature means he wouldn't judge or pity you, he’d simply understand that it’s just part of who you are

✧₊⁺ you mentioned that you can be both calm and chaotic depending on the situation

✧₊⁺ shoto, with his dual nature, can relate to that balance

✧₊⁺ he would appreciate your calmness when you're being chill and laid-back

✧₊⁺ but also wouldn’t mind when you flip the switch to your more chaotic side

✧₊⁺ he’s someone who naturally accepts people’s complexities and wouldn’t expect you to be one-dimensional

✧₊⁺ since you're not into socializing or partying, shoto is the perfect match

✧₊⁺ he’s introverted and prefers quiet moments over loud, crowded places

✧₊⁺ you both could spend hours together in comfortable silence, or just talking about random things you’ve read or thought about, something you mentioned you'd enjoy

✧₊⁺ your love language being physical touch and quality time fits well with shoto

✧₊⁺ he isn’t much for words, so he’d naturally express his affection through subtle touches, like placing a hand on your back or holding your hand when you're walking

✧₊⁺ also he might find your darker sense of humor oddly entertaining

✧₊⁺ while he wouldn’t actively join in with your "chaotic behavior," he would certainly listen and maybe even offer his own dry, deadpan responses that make you laugh

✧₊⁺ if you ever needed help with damage control

✧₊⁺ he’s the type who could easily step in and diffuse situations with his stoic demeanor

✧₊⁺ shoto is very open-minded and understanding due to the hardships he’s been through

✧₊⁺ so he would never be the type to belittle you for your habits, quirks, or behavior

✧₊⁺ he wouldn’t try to change you drastically, but if he ever encouraged you to be a little kinder (like you mentioned), it would come from a place of genuine care, not judgment or superiority

✧₊⁺ your fear of losing control when you're angry would not faze shoto

✧₊⁺ he’s used to intense, fiery outbursts thanks to his background

✧₊⁺ so, if you ever do lose your temper, he would remain calm, helping you cool down without adding fuel to the fire

a/n hope you enjoy! <3

₊✩‧₊˚ 555 follower event ! ˚₊✩‧₊

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