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bamboozledbird · 6 months ago

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IGNITE: A Teen Wolf S1 AU // Chapter 1 / Next

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Sheriff Stilinski, Reader (You) Pairing: Eventual Stiles x Reader, but man are we talking slow burn Word Count: 4.8k Warnings: Canon typical gore/violence, parental death (rip to your fake mom), descriptions of burning, depictions of depression (apathy, dissociation, 'numb little bug' vibes) Tags: Canon has been lovingly scrapped for parts, author is a chaotic bi and it shows, prolific overuse of the em dash, the slowest of burns i fear

Summary: You can always smell ash long after the fire is gone. Perhaps, that’s why you still can’t breathe without choking on the past. It’s been four years since your mom died. Four years since she burned alive. For years since you didn’t. You survived, but they must have buried your heart with her because you feel like something halfway between a ghost and a lamb for slaughter.

You can’t wash the smell of hospital out of clothes, not really. Maybe, that’s why death and disease follows Stiles wherever he goes now. It’s been eight years since his mom died. Eight years since he didn’t. Eight years since he decided that he wouldn’t let anyone he loved die ever again. He survived, but Scott’s new-found abilities and the murky world they’ve been dragged into is making it pretty damn hard to keep his promise.

Time never stops turning. The grief never dissipates. Children soldier on—but in a town where all the monsters under the bed are real and old family skeletons rattle in every closet, how long can two fragile, breakable humans survive?

Maybe, the real question is how long will they want to? Chapter Summary: After your annual interrogation with Sheriff Stilinski, you meet his son who turns out to be very handy with jumper cables and incoherent babbling.

A/N: Does this look familiar? It should lmao. I gave into the peer pressure. All the messages and requests were too powerful. Here is a reader version of my ofc season 1 fic. Obviously some things have been removed to get rid of specific names/descriptions, so you want to read the full thing you can read the og version and check me out on ao3 (dork_knight)! For the sake of not clogging tags, I'll probably just do my reader version on tumblr and the full oc lore version on ao3 from now on. xx

Some say the world will end in fire. Some say in ice. From what I’ve tasted of desire I hold with those who favor fire.

Before your mother’s death, you would have picked fire. Every single time.

You never liked the cold; never really had to get used to it growing up in central California—but the crux of your argument, the twisted logic behind it all, was that most burn victims died from suffocation before they felt the flames. A small mercy, really, in the face of unspeakable tragedy.

In the end, however, statistics were just numbers, your mother didn't die from smoke inhalation, and there was no mercy in burying a parent before you were old enough to have children of your own. Nothing ever ended poetically off the page. Death was just death, and it was always ugly. Someone should really tell that to Robert Frost, you mused, biting at a raw hangnail.

The medical examiner said the actual cause of death was pulmonary edema; at least, that was his best guess based on the state of the body. He didn’t say that she felt everything, her skin peeling back into her flesh, her flesh liquefying into fuel, her joints flexing into contorted pleas until the fire incinerated her last nerve ending. He didn’t have to; you connected those dots all on your own. You’d been twelve at the time, not an imbecile.

“I’m sorry to drag you through this all again.”

You flitted your eyes away from the flickering lightbulb above Sheriff Stilinski’s head and met his gaze; it was nauseatingly sympathetic. Your responding shrug was a small, little thing—more like a twitch in practice, “Not your fault.”

Your yearly visits to Sheriff Stilinski’s office were solely your father’s doing, even if no one wanted to admit it to your face. Most mayors would use their political power to get their child out of a police station, not into it, but perhaps he stopped being your dad somewhere between the funeral and now.

“If you could start—”

“From the beginning,” you smoothed your thumb in small circles over the armrest of your chair, attentively tracing patterns into the polished wood, “I know.” This was, after all, the fourth anniversary of your first interrogation. You’d become somewhat of an expert at being a useless witness. You picked at your uneven cuticles before continuing, “Mom put me to bed around 10:00—which was kind of late for a school night, honestly, but she let me stay up to finish another chapter anyway.” The right corner of your mouth twitched for a brief moment, “Nancy Drew: Password to Larkspur Lane. I told her that forcing someone to go to sleep in the middle of a mystery was specifically forbidden in Geneva Protocol II.” Your mom had been far too indulgent of your lip on most occasions, but that night she didn’t smile at your snarky aside. She let you finish the chapter because she was too tired to argue; you could tell. At the time, you saw it as a victory. Now, it kept you up at night, the drooping lines of your mother’s mouth spilling over the pages of whatever book you were trying to read.

You bit down on your tongue when a stray splinter snagged against the soft pad of your thumb, “Dad was out of town, so it was just the two of us. Mom always put me to bed when Dad was gone; said it was the only way she could get to sleep. Had to make sure my window was locked.” You paused for a long moment: everything went dark after this. Your mother kissed the top of your head, murmured, ‘Love you,’ turned out the light, and then that was it. You woke up in the hospital, and your mom was dead.

A bead of sweat dripped onto your top lip. The air in the Beacon Hills police station was, without fail, sticky with heat and body odor—and it wasn’t just the oppressive Californian sun. Even in the winter, a person could choke on the stifling warmth. Idly, you wondered if it was a matter of interrogatory tactics or budgetary constraints.

“And then,” Sheriff Stilinski prompted gently, though you both knew how the story went from here. You had told it to him and a dozen other officials at least a hundred times in the last four years.

You bit down on your thumbnail and winced when your teeth snagged on the tender nail bed, “And then nothing. I opened my eyes, and a nurse said that you found me on the front lawn.”

“You don’t remember how you got outside?”

You shook your head, staring past the Sheriff's shoulder. Large pieces of dust floated through the air, highlighted by the slivers of light trickling through the blinds. Suddenly, you had a newfound appreciation for the lack of fans in the room.

Sheriff Stilinski cleared his throat and rubbed his hand over his jaw, “You don’t remember saying it was an angel?”

Blinking slowly, you looked at the grim line of the Sheriff’s mouth and gripped your knees tightly, digging your fingers into fragile skin until your wrist cracked, “I should, right? I was twelve. I should remember something—that’s what everyone thinks. That’s what my dad thinks.” Your eyelids fluttered to a tight close, and your voice went so quiet you could barely be heard over the hum of the copier outside the door, “He thinks it was me. That’s why he makes you question me every year.” Copper flooded your mouth as the soft lining of your cheek split under the brunt of your teeth, “He thinks you’ll finally figure out how I did it.”

You were scared to open your eyes as the silence stretched between the two of you. You’d danced around the subject before, hinted and spun around the heart of it, but you’d never truly discussed how it looked from the outside. Sheriff Stilinski had been kind enough to give you a few different excuses over the years: trauma, head injury, oxygen deprivation, just plain ol’ grief—but whatever caused your temporary amnesia wasn’t so conveniently explained. In fact, currently, you had no explanation at all. When you finally peeked through your lashes, clumped together with frustrated tears, you couldn’t quite figure out what expression the Sheriff was making. He leaned back in his desk chair and frowned, “I’m sure he doesn’t—”

“He does,” you cut him off. Your eyes went flinty, irises darkening to something far more ashen with the resolve of your anger. You never had any trouble reading your father’s face; the disgust was thinly-veiled between the flickers of fear.

Sheriff Stilinksi leaned forward so that you had no choice but to look him in the eyes. They were kind—more tired than usual, but still kind. They always were. That was one thing you remembered from that day, waking up in the hospital to Sheriff Stilinski’s kind, watery blue eyes, just before the entire world fell apart. His voice was gentle, but firm, when he finally spoke, “I don’t.”

You nodded numbly and pulled at a fraying string on the hem of your denim skirt until the thread snapped.

“I mean it, kid. They couldn’t identify the source of the fire. They couldn’t even find an origin point; no twelve-year-old could pull that off.”

You chewed on your bottom lip, “Could anyone?”

Sheriff Stilinski’s brow furrowed, and his mouth screwed up into a crooked line, like he was chewing on his words and deciding if he should swallow them or spit them out. “I wish I had all the answers for you. I really do. Not knowing, it’s worse than any truth.”

You blinked up at him for a moment, once again taken aback by his raw sincerity, and swallowed hard. He wasn’t the one who was supposed to have the answers; he was the one who was supposed to ask the questions. There was one failure in his muggy office, and it wasn’t the Sheriff. “It’s okay,” you said quietly. “Not your fault.”

He looked like he wanted to argue the point, but whatever he wanted to say was interrupted by the sharp ringing of the phone on his desk. “I have to take this, but if you remember something, or if you just need to talk—”

“My dad spends a small fortune on a psychiatrist and a behavioral therapist for that,” you stood up quickly, shouldering your bag. You forced the corners of your mouth into a small smile, tight at the edges like a sheet that had been stretched too thin, “But thank you. For everything.”

The Sheriff’s gaze darted to a framed photo on his desk. You had seen it before, on one of your many visits to his office. It was of a boy—his son, you assumed—he looked like he was around five or six at the time. He was grinning, wide enough to show off his missing incisors, and his fingers and wrist were stained cotton-candy blue from a melting popsicle. You must’ve been that happy once, right? In the beginning, everyone was unencumbered by the weight of imminent mortality. Maybe that’s what Sheriff Stilinski was thinking, too. He looked away from the photo and gave you a small smile, “Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

You gave a half-hearted wave before wrapping your fingers around the strap of your backpack and walking to the parking lot.

Outside, the sky was grim, a mocking reflection of the dour expression on your face. The spite in your eyes hardened when big, fat raindrops splattered against the apples of your cheeks. For a moment, you just stood there, glaring at the rain and cursing the cosmos for their utterly unamusing sense of humor.

A jeep pulled into the parking lot, and the squealing engine startled you back into reality. The search for your car keys was, of course, a considerable endeavor. Nothing could be easy. Not here. Not today. Not ever, you thought. A bit melodramatic maybe, but the weather was certainly ripe for a bit of self-pity.

You stacked your textbooks and binders onto the hood of your sedan, haphazardly throwing your jacket on top of the pile to protect your painstakingly penned Kafka essay from the rain. By the time your fingertips brushed against the cool metal of your car keys, your hair was damp and curling at the ends.

The momentary relief was short-lived when you pressed the unlock button five times and the accompanying beep didn’t sound, not even once. For an absurdly long minute, all you could do was rest your forehead against the driver’s side window, breathing heavily until condensation gathered next to your mouth and the drizzle speckled dots onto the sleeves of your thin cotton shirt.

“If you’re trying to charge the battery through osmosis, it’d probably be more effective to smash your head against the hood.”

You jumped, and then flinched again when your keys clattered against the ground. You caught a glimpse of the phantom speaker in the side-view mirror; bizarrely, he looked just as surprised as you felt. You turned around, trepidatiously—objects may be closer than they appear n’all—and tried to swallow your rapidly rising heart.

“Sorry,” the boy pulled the hood of his sweatshirt down and had the decency to look contrite, “big mouth.” He rubbed a hand over his chapped lips. “It’s a real problem. It’s so big, actually, that my foot just slides right in there like…all the time,” he gestured animatedly with a flat hand, a quick sliding motion, like a fish through water.

You blinked at him, slowly, and bent down to reach for your keys, “Might wanna see someone about that. Sounds unsanitary.”

“Eh, it’s hardly the worst thing I’ve put in my mouth,” he said, eyes widening into horrified round circles the second he stopped talking. A faint flush creeped up his neck to his ears, and your heart dropped back into your chest. Slashers and ax murderers didn’t blush. Probably. You hadn’t ever met one, but it seemed like sound logic.

“Choking hazard,” you hummed, leaning back against your car. Your fingers traced a small dent in the door, the cause long forgotten, “It’s definitely still a choking hazard.”

The boy grinned before fixing his expression into something on the cusp of severity, “I’m about 95.7% sure that anything bigger than a fist is completely mouth-safe.” He held up his fist and nodded sharply, “Make that 98.3% sure.”

“98.3?” your brow arched.

“Maybe even 98.9.”

The buzz of a lamp post hummed above your heads as you stared at each other with little smirks until the quiet made you sink your teeth into your bottom lip and big-mouth drum his fingers against his forearm.

“So,” his sneakers squeaked against the slick asphalt as he shifted his weight, “you need a jump?”

You pursed your lips and ran your eyes over the front of your car, “I might give osmosis another shot. 30 seconds is hardly a fair trial.”

“Of course,” he hummed, “you gotta be fair.”

“We are in front of a police station.”

“Well,” he scratched his cheek, “it’s not a courthouse.”

“Technicality.” You were slightly horrified when you finally noticed that you were smiling. The sensation felt like it had escaped straight out of the uncanny valley and latched onto your face like a parasite in need of a host. It only took two weeks for muscles to atrophy; years must have completely decimated the fibers in your cheeks. “I guess I could use a jump. If your offer was an offer and not a hypothetical.”

“Smart choice.” The boy rapped his knuckles against the hood of your car and said, “Steel’s probably pretty low on the permeability scale.”

“As opposed to a skull.”

He snorted and then nodded towards the large lump of books and papers covered by your freshly dampened jean jacket, “You should probably move your stuff. Y’know, ‘cause of the very un-permeable battery.”

“There’s that,” you sighed and started stuffing your things back into your backpack, shaking it violently until your notebook finally slid past your chemistry textbook, “and flunking English isn’t high on my list of things to do this weekend.”

His gaze flickered back and forth, rapidly cataloging every corner and crevice of your face. You tilted your head, brows pinched, and stared back at him with your arms crossed tightly over your chest. His eyes, you noticed, became a peculiar shade of brown in the yellow glow of the setting sun and the fluorescent light of the lamppost. More like honey, you realized, more like honey than irises. Something finally clicked behind them. "You,” he pointed aggressively, “you go to Beacon Hills.”

You pushed his finger away from your face with your own, “Safe bet, considering there’s exactly one option for the next 2,000 square miles.”

“You’re kind of a smartass, you know that,” he muttered. He struggled with the trunk of the jeep parked next to your car, cursing under his breath until he finally wrenched it open with an almost guttural grunt.

Your lips parted briefly, and then you grinned drolly. It was refreshing, not being treated like some fragile little creature who would buckle in the knees—or possibly set something on fire—at the slightest confrontation. “Kind of?”

“Total.” He nodded decisively before sticking his head and torso into the depths of his trunk. “Completely, entirely, and wholly a smartass.” There were various clanging sounds until he re-emerged with a pair of jumper cables, “Never noticed that in class. You don’t really…say anything.”

You bit back the snark poised on the tip of your tongue. When people looked at you, the only thing they saw was the worst thing that had ever happened to you. You were the daughter of the woman who burned to death on Cedar Street; your mom died, and you were there. It seemed like that was all you would ever be in Beacon Hills.

In the grand scheme of things, it was better to be no one.

High school had been your chance to slip into social obscurity—more kids, more drama, less discussion of homicide by arson—so you took it, wholeheartedly. You kept to the corners of classrooms, away from extracurriculars, and your mouth resolutely shut.

“I try to exclusively bring the smart and leave the ass at home,” you finally replied.

The boy’s eyes drifted downwards for a moment, and his voice did a funny, squeaky thing when he said, “I should give that a go sometime.”

“10/10 would recommend. No one bugs you—and teachers never throw erasers at your face.”

“So you do remember me,” he grinned a little and rolled up the sleeves of his sweatshirt before unlatching the jeep’s hood and propping it open.

Slanting your head, you watched his profile. There were moles scattered across his cheek and neck, and his angular jaw clenched as he struggled with the knotted cords in his willowy fingers. “Vaguely,” you said faintly. It was coming back to you in pieces. That was life after twelve for you: bits and pieces. Everything was made up of the disquieting moments when you surfaced from the haze and into the present. It should’ve felt like a lungful of air, but it didn’t. It always felt like choking.

He wiped his grease-smudged hand on his jeans and then extended it towards you, “Stiles.”

You took his hand, despite the strange formality, and shook it—mainly because of the black streaks staining his pants. “Y/N.”

His fingers twitched a few times when he connected the clamp to the coordinating battery terminal, and your eyes widened. You held your breath in your sternum until you registered that he hadn’t been electrocuted. He was just naturally tweaky, you concluded. It was either that, or he had jumped one-too-many engines in the last 24 hours…unless it was hidden option C, and he was actually tweaking. Unlikely, given he was on his way into a building teeming with cops, but far stranger things had happened in Beacon Hills.

You sighed a little as you listened to the rain patter against the asphalt and the roof of your car, rubbing your palms over your arms until the goosebumps prickling along your biceps receded into your skin. Stiles looked back at you again, and his mouth wormed its way into a little frown. His head disappeared into his trunk, and after a moment a lumpy maroon mass hurtled towards your face. You caught it before it could smack into your nose, and you clutched at the soft material until you realized that the projectile missile was actually just a sweatshirt.

Stiles was staring at you when you looked up from your hands. A small, unsure…something squirmed over his face, and you felt a little stupid, just standing there, hoodie limp in your arms. It happened a lot—more than it should after so many years. The invisible quicksand materialized in the strangest, most insignificant moments. You blinked, completely brainless, at simple questions, stared aimlessly into your closet until your second alarm startled you into snatching the first shirt you came across—clasped at a stranger’s hoodie until the rainwater pooled on your lashes dripped into your eyes.

Robotically, you thrust your arms through the sleeves and tugged it over your head, “Thanks.” The sweet scent of grass clung to the fabric, and there was something earthier underneath it, something like evergreen. You smiled slightly, combing your baby hairs behind your ears, “I guess I forgive you for attempting to blind me in the process.”

Stiles’s shoulders unwound as he scoffed, “That was an excellent throw. First-line material, honestly.”

You looked at him and tilted your head, eyebrows crawling towards your hairline, and Stiles sighed loudly, “Okay, so I’m not an ‘athlete’ or whatever—but I’m working on it. You’ll see—you’ll all see.”

You hummed softly, unconvinced but grateful enough to not comment further. Another bout of silence fell between you, but it wasn’t so restless this time—even after Stiles torpedoed his body through his passenger seat. He fought with his keys for a while until the correct one slid into the ignition.

The jeep’s engine hummed pleasantly in the background as you let out a soft sigh, dropping your head back against your car window. The rain had stopped somewhere between trying to unlock your car and now, but you couldn’t quite recall when. The chill wasn’t so bad, you realized, without your foul mood casting a shadow over your head.

Stiles landed back on his feet and leaned against the jeep. You could feel his gaze on you again. A tickling sensation trailed down your spine as you fiddled with your keychain. You took a step backwards and bit your bottom lip, “I should probably try start my car…y’know, before you throw something else at my face.’”

He nodded, taking a step towards his jeep, “Solid plan. A tire iron was next.”

You slid into your car and stared at the steering wheel, forgetting to laugh at his joke. You wrapped your fingers around 10 and 2 and silently called upon every deity you’d ever heard of to end your suffering. Stiles seemed nice enough, but you seriously doubted your smalltalk capabilities were up-to ‘ride home’ standards. Perhaps, you should revisit your resounding dedication to atheism, you thought, as the engine sputtered in protest a few times and then came back to life.

Stiles flashed two thumbs up through the window. The smile on his face was positively goofy, but his dismount from the jeep was somehow even goofier. He stumbled over his large feet a few times before regaining stability. You bit back a smile when he shot you another thumbs up, this time through the dash as he removed the jumper cables from your car’s battery.

He wiped his hands off on his jeans again; at this point, you were convinced that they were beyond saving, but Stiles didn’t seem concerned. He tapped against your window before stepping around the open door, “You should probably let it run for a while. Take the scenic route home; enjoy all the Beacon Hills hotspots open past 8:00 pm on a weeknight. I personally recommend the Rite Aid or Walmart.”

You snorted, “Maybe I’ll swing by the Preserve. I hear the woods are especially beautiful in the foreboding darkness.”

“Don’t.” Serious was an odd look on Stiles’s face. You decided that you much preferred the goofy grin. “Don’t go anywhere near the Preserve. It’s officially cordoned off—totally locked down, quarantine-zone-central. Something about flesh-eating, parasitic plant life.”

“As completely real and unobtrusive as that sounds,” you drawled, “don’t worry about it. Literally every single person in town knows about the body they found in the woods.” It was bound to happen, small town and all—and ‘woman dies in deadly animal attack’ was the most interesting thing that had happened in Beacon Hills since the intersection got a Target two years ago. “I’ve seen every installment of Friday the 13th and The Blair Witch Project. If I’m going to be murdered, I refuse to also be humiliated by a cliché C.O.D.”

The manic expression on his face softened to a relieved smile and then again to a little smirk, “So what’s a certified fresh murder, then? Not that I doubt the depths of human depravity, but I think society killed off originality a few centuries ago.”

You thought back to a house fire with no origin, accelerant, or discernible cause. Apparently, not. “You know what they say,” you sighed, “life finds a way.”

Stiles tilted his head, “And death.”

“And death,” you agreed, staring at a small chip in your windshield. The cracks had just begun to spiderweb out from the pit.

Stiles looked like he wanted to say something, and he looked so much like the Sheriff with his face twisted around thoughtful contemplation that you couldn’t believe it had taken you this long to make the connection. The boy in the photo had grown up. How unfortunate for him. Stiles swallowed whatever it was that was lingering on his tongue and shut your door. He leaned his elbow against the window frame and cocked his hand in a stiff little wave, “Seeya at school. I’ll bring something fun for target practice—maybe grapes. You like grapes? Don’t answer that—I’ll surprise you.”

You put your car in drive once Stiles was safely a few feet from the wheels and gave him a dry smile, “The anticipation is killing me.”

What a scary place to be, you thought as you watched Stiles disappear in your rearview mirror. Anticipation. Hope. Life. You were chronically good at surviving; cockroached your way out of every horrible thing life squashed you with. Lately, all you could do was cling to your heartbeat and the warmth of your skin, until you were barely more than roadkill. A walking carcass was a far cry from living, but death would not stop for you, so you stopped looking for him. You kept treading water, took your pills, stopped existing—you were a lot like Schrödinger’s cat that way: too stubborn to live, too stubborn to die. You didn’t know what to do if someone unsealed the box and forced you to choose. That was the trouble with possibility; it required far too much uncertainty.

Your dad’s SUV was parked in the garage when you finally pulled into your circle driveway. It was a rare sight; your dead battery had disrupted your usual routine. You were supposed to be safely tucked away in your room after an early dinner—take-out usually, sometimes a quesadilla if you were feeling exceptionally inspired—by the time your dad got home from work. It was dysfunctional in every sense of the word, but it was the only way you could function in the same space.

He used to stare at you from the other end of the dinner table: not eating, not speaking. The only way you knew he was alive was the slow rise and fall of his chest. After a while, he moved dinner to his office. ‘Working dinner,’ he’d say in passing, ‘budgets are due.’ Eventually, he stopped coming home altogether. It was better that way, you thought. You loved each other better from afar, where the power of nostalgia could cloud all the present unpleasantries. You wondered what he saw when he looked at you now. You wondered, and you desperately didn’t want to find out.

You shouldered your backpack and made sure your car lights were off twice before quietly creeping into the mudroom. You could hear the buzz of the microwave as you toed off your sneakers and tried to discern the smell emanating from the kitchen. Something with garlic and tomato. Bona Vita, probably. Your dad loved their al pomodoro.

You tried to make yourself as small as possible as you skulked into the kitchen, shoulders hunched to your ears and grip tight around the strap of your backpack. Your dad’s back was to you; you could see the wrinkles in his collar from where he tugged at it when he was agitated. He stopped stirring his pasta once you reached the island.

“Did…” your dad trailed off for a moment, still facing the kitchen counter, “did everything go alright with the Sheriff?”

You shrugged even though he couldn’t see you, “I guess.”

“It’s just,” he rubbed at his jaw and looked down towards the oven, “it’s almost eight. I was wondering…worrying.”

He still wasn’t looking at you. You stared at the back of his head and sucked your bottom lip between your teeth. Look at me. Your brows pinched, and your back molars ground together. Look at me.

“I called him. Sheriff Stilinski. He said that you didn’t speak for long.”

“Didn’t have anything new to say,” you shoved your hands into hoodie pockets, realizing belatedly that you forgot to give Stiles his sweatshirt back. Another problem for another time.

“That’s not what I—” your dad grasped the lip of the counter and hung his head like it suddenly weighed too much for his spine, “I was wondering what happened to you.”

“Oh,” you shifted your weight onto your other foot, “dead battery. I think it was the door light.”

Your dad nodded a little, “Do you need someone to pick up your car?”

“Got a jump from a friend.” Not a friend, not really, but you supposed it was the closest you’d come to one in the last four years. That was just a little too sad to say out loud.

“Good.” He nodded again, “Good.”

You nodded because it seemed like the only thing to do and slipped towards the hallway. You’d taken no less than five steps out of the kitchen when your dad said, “You could call me. Next time, you could call me.”

Maybe. Maybe you could if he would look at you.

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twptwp · 6 months ago

Text

Please share

Hello, I contemplated it a lot, I decided it would be best. I will be sharing this beware on a rather big artist here who hurt me personally.

I will write more at the end. Please take care. Warning: the post is very big

Pestkitty is also known as Nopperabou if I remember the name correctly on other platforms such as Artfight and Youtube

*It should be noted this is very blatant lying on that guys part, I was keeping to myself for this entire time and harassed nobody, on the contrary his friends had been harassing me. I regret not writing that more clearly

I don't think I mentioned it in the original post images but I would also like to note at the time I was not an adult yet and it was my first time going on a plane... 11 hour flight completely alone is scary, no family, nobody in my family has ever travelled so far. It was a very big deal

END OF IMAGES

Description from original post on Instagram (it's a lot so I'll make it small):

HI HI PAWB! Lots and lots of people wanted me to put this together, please do share, even if you do not know the people it would be great help. The more people who know the more people who can stay safe. This post is a little overdue but I was gaslit by them into thinking these were not big issues and that I was the one being strange so it took a while for me to gain the stability to put this together, I ended up downplaying my feelings a lot and it wasn't untill somewhat recent when I realised I may be developing a new disorder from their abuse that oh... I was not wrong for my concerns and feelings; these people really are harmful. I do not condone harassment so please do not go messaging these people. Block, share, and move on. Stay safe. That is my internet mission for you🚀

I make this post because they are rather gross and dangerous and have considerably big audiences, people have told me their opinions that they should not have the platforms that they have because their behaviours are dangerous. There is more things they've done that I have not included because I would like some of my own privacy even after my private information was leaked in a comic haha... I've displayed enough behaviour from them to show who they are and what they do though, so this is enough!

This is quite intimidating for me, so, I will be going offline off of this account for a few days and just let this post simmer... Not for too long because I have some awesome art cooking HEHE but YA! If there are questions in the comments my friends will answer for me! Though, I think I've been rather transparent so I don't think there would be any.

I will also be providing more proof in my story, specifically proof that slide 10 IS that guy because quite frankly anybody could be "Instagram user" and they have fabricated stuff against me in the past so I think it would be good to prove it is that account.

Okay bla bla that is all, apologies this is such a scary and serious post especially as I like to keep my account a friendly nice place but ahhh it really has been burning at me. So, thank you for reading so very much. Bye bye pawb!

End of description^

That was a lot! So here is why I'm sharing it to Tumblr:

☆Awareness! NOBODY should have to risk getting close to these people. NOBODY.

☆Better circulation! My Instagram post got over 3000 likes, lots of shares, 100s of comment and many saves so it did very well however after a while things leave the light and become something "of the past". I notice this does not happen so much on Tumblr and things continue to be shared

☆This still effects me. The original Beware is from 3 months ago however I am currently doing this because I was restless from lastnight nightmare (I had a nightmare about these people) and now I'm all nauseous and shaky again! It's 3am and I was panicking a lot so I put this together, I'm yet to rest

And finally....

☆TAGS

I notice that if an image in a tag becomes popular enough it shows up on things like Google! Isn't that cwl! So, if a fan of these people searches for them on the internet the beware could show up which may deter them from the artist. This is great, which is why I also need your help in making this popular!

Thank you sincerely for your time, it is greatly appreciated. I feel calmer now that I have made this post, I regret not making it earlier but it is better now than never. Nos da ac breuddwydion melys pawb♡

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giveafike · 1 month ago

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Picture Perfect Moments - B.T.S

TLDR: Making memories and keepsakes. This is part 9/12 of Azzie's Advent Calendar 2024!

Word count + info: 2.4k + dialogue.

Warnings + Content Ahead: SFW! No warnings : )

Azzie Notes ✚: This is a little shorter, but the next few ones are prettyyyy heavy and/or longer! FINALLY FINISHED MY FINALS TOO - still have 2 assignments. Made a taglist too, I won't be tagging anyone here just yet, but for the next ones + new year's, that's gonna be for that! it'd be nice to have some of u guys on there, esp since Ben is basically my whole acct atp.

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The evening was peaceful, the warm glow of the Christmas tree casting a cozy light over the living room. The TV played a stream of festive recipes, but no one was paying much attention, either scrolling away or immersed in conversations until a recipe piqued interest for a bit. Emma was sprawled on one end of the couch with Halo at her feet, scrolling through her phone. At the same time, Ben sat beside you, half watching the screen with his fingers swirling your hair, the other hand fiddling with his own phone, watching some NFL edit on loop. Bryan and Lisa were seated nearby, Lisa was flipping through a holiday magazine and some letters from the mail while Bryan was casually checking his emails, muttering the words as he read along.

Then, all at once, a familiar notification chime went off on everyone’s phones, including yours.

“Group chat,” Emma announced, sighing without looking up.

Ben groaned, already unlocking his phone. “Please don’t let it be another chain message, when is someone gonna send a PSA to let the old folk know they won't get bad luck if they don't send every scam message they see?”

It wasn’t, but it was close to a chain message. The Shelton family group chat had erupted with a series of holiday photos from Ben’s uncle, his wife, and their kids, all decked out in matching red and white outfits in front of their fireplace.

“Oh, how cute, look!” Lisa exclaimed, holding her phone up as she squinted through her reading glasses to study the photos while leaning in to show Bryan. Then, as if struck by a sudden realisation, she gasped.

“We haven’t done our holiday photos yet!”

“Mom,” Ben groaned, “we don’t need holiday photos. You make such a big deal every year, and it’s always chaos.”

Lisa shot him a pointed look. “Of course we need them, Ben. You guys grow up so quick and I can't keep track. You know we always print and add them to the family album. The rest of the family does it too, why shouldn’t we?”

Emma smirked. “You mean to say, the rest of the family is showing off, why can't we?”

Lisa ignored her, already standing up. “We need a plan. Everyone, get ready and I'll see you in the car in 10. We’re doing this tonight. And yes Ben, before you start, I mean everyone.”

Ben groaned dramatically, but you couldn’t help but laugh as Lisa rallied everyone into action. Within a few moments, you had all piled into the car, a bit crammed, and headed to the store for matching outfits. It didn’t take long to settle on a fully plaid theme: you, Emma, and Lisa had versions with bows and tailored fits, while Ben and Bryan stuck to classic pyjama sets. You had even found Halo a tiny plaid dog coat, as you pictured him wagging his tail.

Back at the house, the chaos resumed as Lisa set Bryan to study up the living room and sweep away any spare pine needles shed from the tree while the rest started getting everyone ready. You smiled in the mirror, seeing the matching outfits with soft white lace frills and bows on the hem and collar, then caught eye of Emma and then Lisa too. It was heartwarming to be involved in such a way, and though you couldn't imagine wearing this set anywhere else, you're glad you at least had a physical keepsake, a reminder that you were here, that you belong here. They claim you as their own just as much as Ben does.

You couldn't let it linger for too long however, as time was of the essence - Halo would conk out at any given moment if you delayed any longer, that is, if he didn't somehow tear apart the plaid winter jacket first. And Bryan and Ben would be huffing with a lack of patience only family men could possess. You, Emma, and Lisa worked on your hair and light, Christmassy makeup in the bathroom, music playing softly in the background. As you swept your hair back and secured it with a cute red bow, you called Lisa in to get herself in sorts. She managed to do her base but asked for some help with her makeup, while Emma got started on straightening out her hair.

As Lisa sat in front of you, her cheeks turned slightly as you brushed on some blush.

“A little more here?” she asked.

“Got it,” you said, smiling as you leaned closer. “And close your eyes for the eyeshadow too, Lis.”

On the other side of the bathroom, Emma was carefully straightening her mom’s hair, humming along to the music.

“Not too much, Emma!” Lisa warned.

Emma rolled her eyes. “Relax, Mom. I’ve got it.”

As you worked, Lisa glanced at you in the mirror while you stood to her side, gently sweeping across her cheek. Her expression softened, and she hesitated before speaking. “Can I be honest with you?”

You paused, meeting her gaze. “Of course, always.”

“I don’t want to scare you or anything,” Lisa began, her voice low and gentle, “but it’s a big deal, spending the holidays away from your own family. I know it can’t be easy, but... how are you finding it here? With us, I mean? Be honest with me.”

You smiled warmly. “It’s been wonderful. Honestly, I feel so welcomed. You’ve all been amazing, truly.”

Lisa’s eyes softened further, and she reached for your hand, giving it a squeeze. “I just want you to know how special it is that you’re here. I was telling Bryan the other day, that you and Ben- the two of you just work so well together, like in tandem. I know you've been good to him during the tournaments and the ups and downs and- well, seeing it in front of me, how he looks at you? I haven’t seen him this happy, this confident, in such a long time, maybe ever. And I know that’s because of you. It's like I have my sweet little boy back, the one who believes in magic and saves cookies just for Santa.”

You felt your throat tighten with emotion as she continued. “You’ve been such a perfect addition to this family. I know I’m just his mom and I'm partial, but I can see it, feel it. You bring out the best in him.”

Unable to hold back, you leaned in and hugged her tightly. She held you just as tight, rubbing your back soothingly, her warmth and sincerity bringing tears to your eyes. When you pulled back, she held your face in her hands, looking into your eyes with a soft smile.

“I honestly see you as one of my own,” Lisa said, her voice thick with emotion.

“Thank you, I-I have no words,” you whispered, your voice breaking slightly.

She smiled, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Alright,” she sighed and scanned you once over before she got up, her tone shifting back to practicality, “I need to find the tripod and the camera. Don’t take too long getting ready, girls!”

As she left the room, Emma leaned against the counter, packing away the straightener, watching you with a knowing smile. “She’s right, you know.”

You turned to her, tilting your head.

Emma shrugged. “You and Ben. You’re so good for him. Honestly, you’re like a Shelton already.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Em, not you too..-”

“No, I mean it!” she interrupted, her tone sincere. “As his older sister, I know I can be... claws out. Protective, y'know? But I haven’t had to be with you. Not once. You just fit, right from the start. And that’s rare.”

Her words hit you harder than you expected, and you felt the sting of tears in your eyes. “Em, stop,” you said, laughing through the lump in your throat. “You’re gonna make me cry.”

Emma laughed and pulled you into a quick hug. “Well, let’s go then. Don’t want to miss Mom’s photoshoot extravaganza.”

You both left the bathroom, arm in arm, ready to face the evening and the inevitable chaos with full hearts.

Downstairs, the scene was already set for what promised to be a hilariously chaotic photo session. Halo sat proudly in the centre of the room, his tiny plaid coat fastened snugly around him, his tail wagging excitedly as if he knew he was the star. Ben and Bryan were lounging on the couch, phones in hand, but they looked up as you and Emma entered, their expressions brightening.

Ben’s gaze softened when he saw you. “Look at you,” he said, his tone warm and teasing. “Stealing the show already.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, but you couldn’t stop the smile creeping onto your face as you leaned up to peck his lips.

Lisa bustled in with the tripod and camera, barking orders like a seasoned director. “Alright, everyone, let’s get this organised. Bryan, Ben, phones away! Halo, stay put!”

“Because he’s going to listen,” Emma quipped, earning a snicker from Ben.

Eventually, Lisa arranged everyone: Lisa, then Bryan beside Ben and to his side, Emma. You stood between Ben and Bryan, front row and centre while Halo sat at your feet, his tail wagging in delighted circles.

The first few attempts were a disaster. Halo decided to chase an imaginary speck of dust, Bryan blinked, and Emma leaned behind to whisper something to Ben, making him laugh right as the shutter clicked.

“Ben! Stop laughing!” Lisa exclaimed, exasperated.

“Emma started it!” Ben shot back, earning a pointed glare from his sister.

It took at least five more tries before you managed the first decent shot where everyone was in it, no one was blinking and it wasn't blurry. By then, everyone was either laughing or rolling their eyes at the several attempts, but the photos started to flow out now as you all got into the swing of things.

“Okay,” you said, brushing your hands together like you were in charge. “Now we are really gonna get the family shot, let’s go!”

“Do we have to?” Ben groaned.

“Yes,” Lisa said firmly, her mom voice in full force. “Get over here.”

Grumbling, Ben moved to stand between Lisa and Bryan, while you scooped up Halo to keep him in frame. After some good shots, you coaxed everyone to get some photos of just the four of them and Halo, everyone smiling genuinely despite their initial reluctance. It was frustratingly endearing how conscious they were to include you in the family, they felt bad for taking that set of photos without you.

“Bryan and Lisa, your turn,” you suggested.

Bryan raised a brow. “We’re doing couple shots now?”

Lisa shot him a playful glare. “You’re lucky I didn’t ask you to do all this when we were dating.”

That earned a laugh from everyone as Bryan relented. They took a few pictures by the tree and on the sofa, one with Halo on Bryan’s lap and one without.

Next up were Ben and Emma. They posed reluctantly in front of the tree as Bryan held the camera, their arms crossed, pretending to look annoyed with each other.

“Smile like you like each other,” Bryan teased as he clicked the shutter.

“Never,” Emma replied, but right as they both grinned for the camera, the battery died.

“Oh, for crying out loud,” Bryan muttered, inspecting the camera.

"That photo would've been up on the fridge" Lisa sighs as she sinks into the sofa, petting Halo who sat between her legs.

Emma suddenly brightened. “Wait, I have a Polaroid camera upstairs! Alex gave it to me last year. I think it’s got film!”

She dashed off, returning a few moments later with the camera in hand.

Bryan examined it with a nostalgic smile. “Man, I haven’t used one of these in years. Let me do the honours.”

He snapped a Polaroid of Ben and Emma, capturing a rare moment of warmth between the siblings. The photo developed slowly, the colours warming into a perfect, slightly vintage frame.

“Not bad,” Ben admitted, tilting his head to inspect it, squinting at the brand name.

Then Bryan turned the camera on you and Ben. “Alright, you two. Smile!”

Ben slid his arm around you, pulling you close. You rested your head on his shoulder, and he leaned his head against yours, grinning wide. The result was perfect: effortless, warm, and priceless.

Lisa smiled softly as she watched, pulling a small box from a nearby shelf. “I know what this needs.”

From the box, she pulled out an old Santa hat and reindeer antlers. She handed the antlers to you and plopped the hat onto Ben’s head, fixing a tuft of his curls to poke out, before adjusting your hair around the hairband.

“This is from when Bryan used to dress up as Santa,” she explained fondly. “Ben and Emma loved it as kids.”

Ben adjusted the hat with a mock sigh. “If this isn’t Christmas spirit, I don’t know what is.”

As the photoshoot wrapped up, Lisa sent the best ones to the family group chat, the camera now charging up while the polaroids sat on the coffee table while the parents sunk onto the sofa with a satisfied sigh. You and Ben plopped onto the other couch, his arm draped lazily around your shoulders.

You took off the antlers, smoothing your hair, when Ben grabbed a second Santa hat from the box by his feet and tugged it onto your head.

“Perfect,” he said, brushing your hair so it framed your face.

You laughed softly. “What, now I’m Mrs. Claus?”

“Exactly,” he teased, leaning closer. “And Mrs. Claus needs a kiss for puttin' up with all this.”

Before you could protest, his lips were on yours, soft and sweet, the world around you fading for a moment.

“Alright, you two,” Emma said, snapping a Polaroid with a smirk.

As the photo developed, she grinned. “Lisa, add this one to the group chat. It’s too good to leave out.”

You felt your cheeks flush as Ben pressed kisses to your cheek, grinning against your skin.

“You’re ridiculous,” you murmured, trying not to smile.

“And I’m glad I get to be ridiculous with you,” Ben replied, his voice full of warmth. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

#Azzie's Advent Calendar #azzie asks #ben shelton #benshelton #ben shelton x reader #atp tennis

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sheepheadfred · 3 months ago

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Ectoberhaunt Day 14: Murder Mystery

Summary: Who killed Danny Fenton? Wes is starting his new job on a train and has to check all the passengers to figure out who done it.

Ao3 link

New day, new job.

A thought passes through this young man's head as he manages to board the train 15 minutes ahead of schedule.

Really hope I don't fuck this up.

Grabbing his name tag upon arrival and writing his name, the newly dubbed 'Wes', now officially a recent hire. Wes is nervous however, and wants to do well to impress his boss.

Working the dining car today and nerves are flaring.

C'mon! It's just the dining car!

"Wes, did I just see you hitting yourself?'

He slaps himself to snap out of his first day jitters and someone saw! How embarrassing!

He takes a second to process the person in front of him. An older gentleman in a decorated uniform giving off a kind and easy going smile.

AND IT'S THE CONDUCTOR!!! Nooooooooooo.

"M-Mr. Conductor, sir!" Face beat red from being caught, Wes replied. "How, uh, how are you doing this morning?"

"Ho ho ho, quite alright! Though feeling a bit bittersweet."

"Is everything alright?"

"Alas today is my last day as conductor! I'm retiring after thirty- two wonderful years." A wistful look passes over the older man's face, "Time for me and the 'Mirage Express' to say goodbye to one another."

"Oh! Congratulations on retirement, sir!"

"Thank you, young man! My wife is very excited about it. Shes already got our plane tickets locked." Looking a bit sheepish, the man continues,"Our shower has been on the fritz, so I'm excited to use the hotel's. Fahahaha!" The conductor finishes with a hearty laugh.

Oh, I can see why his wife is so excited then.

The conductor apologizes for taking up Wes' time with his quibbles and hands him the menu he'll need for the dining care. Upon looking it over, he's stunned but feels like he should have seen this coming.

He is very unimpressed.

Menu:

Chili Dog

Instant Ramen

Chicken Cordon Bleu

At Wes' dumbfounded expression, the conductor informed him as such, "Why do you look so nervous...? All we have on the train is a microwave!"

He laughs a big belly laugh and Wes feels like the universe continues to play jokes on him.

Then his new boss, for the time being at least, quizzes him on what's on it. There are only three food items! He still answered him and completed the quiz correctly, but it was frustrating!

"Ding ding ding! Glad you read the menu, ok." And laughs yet again.

Well, at least it pleased my boss.

"Now, a little about the vessel. This is a state of the art high speed train with all the latest gadgets. This train can handle anything you throw at it!" The man took a deep, wistful sigh, "We've had a lot of great adventures together, me and this train. It's not easy to leave it."

Can't blame him for being wistful after working here for so long.

"This train is used exclusively for events," he continued,"it's not a passenger train."

Something he was aware of here, finally getting into what he has to do here!

"I remember that from the interview, what's the event for today?"

"A murder mystery party! Nothing better than some thrills to end my tenure as conductor."

A murder mystery sounded quite fun, in Wes' opinion.

"Guests will be funneled here to the dining care, a home base so to speak. I'll be here to help gather tickets, but after that you'll be on your own. So I'll need you to do everything in your power to make sure our paying guests are well taken care of, understood?"

Oh, I cannot lose this job.

"I won't let you down, sir!"

"Very good!" He exclaims, "Now, doors to The Mirage Express are opening, all aboard!"

The train's doors open and the passengers stepped on board.

A wide, eclectic cast of different people showed up. Reactions to the train ranging from fascination to apparently theft!

Man, what a cast of characters I'm stuck with.

"Get a hold of yourself, Wes. You're sweatin' through your uniform."

Fuck! It's that noticable?!

"Hey, pal," Wes nearly jumps out of his skin, "can I get one of those chili dogs?"

How was this guy so quiet?

"Ah, Righty-o friend!" Wes replied in the most customer service smile he could muster to hide how taken off guard he was.

"Well, aren't you friendly." The guy had a smartass smirk and a relaxed demeanor.

Before Wes could reply to that, the birthday girl herself interrupted stating they needed to assign roles before they get food. The now sheepish guy, apparently named Danny, relented and took his seat.

Time to take their tickets and learn their names. Wes has a feeling he's going to be interacting with them quite a bit for this.

The birthday girl, rich enough to afford this whole event, Sam Manson. Apparently a murder mystery party on a train was right up her alley. The conductor gave her a key that unlocks any door on the train as a special treat for being the birthday girl. It's practically a tradition to do so. She will be the journalist reporter and will move about the train.

Techy who looks hungry to take this whole place apart to study the train's insides, Tucker Foley. He and Wes brought the same snack on board. Assigned detective and stationed here in the dining car.

Aforementioned Danny Fenton, who seems to be known for something. The conductor mentioned he helps out a lot of people, but Wes is unsure what work he has done. He has been trying not to think about the Fentons and Phantom. A whole lot of good that did him. Apparently was supposed to bring the cake but looked nervous when it was mentioned. Assigned to be a ship captain in the conductor's car.

A jock who's more brawn than brains, Dash Baxter. The fool misplaced his ticket, at least that's what he claims. Wait, Wes picked up a dropped ticket earlier and assumed it was this guy's. Dash was relieved it was found and that he won't be kicked off. He will be the butcher and found in the library.

An elegant and classy beauty with apparently sticky fingers, Kitty. See flirted with the conductor and almost got away with sneaking 20 bucks from his pocket. Clearly not expecting to be caught. A business tycoon who will be in the casino.

A standoffish girl who has a clear sense of right and wrong, Valerie Gray. Her ticket was crumpled at the bottom of her bag. Seemingly nervous over such an expensive event. Assigned to be the sheriff who will be in the saloon.

A mysterious and demure girl, Dora. She had her ticket out before the conductor could finish asking. Claims to be a princess from another dimension and Wes is not sure he believes her. But she does give off 'royal air' of sorts. 'Princess Dora' says she is here for 'Lady Sam's' birthday and the cake from our dimension. Assigned to be a 'titan of the industry', will also be in the casino.

A sullen boy who looks similar to Danny, Dante Masters. He wanted a gift bag for some reason but when all Wes could offer him was a plastic grocery bag, he was given a cold stare that was icy enough to give him shivers. Then when told about the drinks, he said take just regular coffee beans later! What even? He was given the role of locksmith and stationed in the lounge.

A mischievous one with a grin that spells trouble, Dani Fenton. Someone who will mess with you if she finds it funny. Claims to read minds but is just good at reading people, learned it from an older sister. The poet who will also be found in the library.

One of them will be the 'murder victim' for this event.

The detective and journalist can't be the murderer for this to work.

Everyone else, suspect.

Let the game begin.

#danny phantom #ectoberhaunt #ectoberhaunt24 #day 14 #eh future #murder mystery #wes weston #danny fenton #sam manson #tucker foley #dash baxter #valerie gray #kitty dp #princess dorathea #dani phantom #dan phantom #fanfic #my fic #my art

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bonny-kookoo · 2 years ago

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Jungkook: Lacrymaria olor 3

In which Jungkook shows you more of his world, while you grow all the more closer to him.

Tags/Warnings: Alien AU, Alien!Jungkook, Human!Reader, Angst, Blood and Violence, Strangers to I don't know?

Additional Chapter Warnings: Fluff, minor injury and mention of blood

Length: Short

<- Previous | Next ->

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Incense sticks are burned in golden holders all around the palace, it seems.

When you woke up a few hours ago, Jungkook was nowhere to be seen, so you took it upon yourself to find him. However, curiosity certainly has gotten the best of you by now as you don't even notice you've gotten horribly lost. You don't really mind. Everyone you soot seems occupied and well aware of who you are to the king.

It feels like something is happening today. A festival of some sorts, maids all eager to decorate and chatter a lot more to their fellow workers.

"There you are." Jungkooks voice rings out, the maids you've been looking at bowing immediately and keeping their heads down in trained behavior while the king is present. He's dressed in different clothing today, looking festive in a way you're not sure how to describe, satin garments hiding his physique underneath. "I leave you out of my sight, and you're gone like startled prey." He chuckles, running a hand through your hair.

"What's going on around here?" You wonder, walking next to him as his hand stays on the small of your back, gently leading. "Is something special happening?"

"We're celebrating the planet's turning point." He explains. "The day a new cycle starts, we offer food and dance to the planet, so she grants us another cycle on her lands."

"Oh, so like new year's?" You mumble to yourself, making Jungkook chuckle amused. "No, more like the planet's birthday.." you seem to think. He laughs.

"In a way, that's true." He nods. "We don't own the ground we walk on truly, after all. It's hers, and we're simply living on it. I believe it is why the Temian kind is still thriving, while humans have done nothing but take from the earth." He mercilessly says, no hesitation at all.

"Yeah, we really messed up our planet.." you say a bit sadly, making him shake his head.

"Earth is no longer your home. You belong here now, right at my side." He grins, eyes closing happily for a second before he leads you to a lavishly decorated spot near the throne room. "Come, I'll show you how to make an offering. It's not hard, you'll learn it quickly I'm sure." He nods, sitting down onto the floor with you.

You copy what he's doing next to you; taking one of the wooden sticks that's covered in floral smelling paste before lighting it in the tiny flame provided. He sticks it in what looks like flour maybe, before he brakes off a piece of dark looking bread, placing it in the large bowl in the middle underneath a statue of a beast that looks like something between a dragon and a bear. Then, he takes a silver knife, metal decorated in swirls and symbols, and cuts the end of one of his fingers, the drop of almost black looking blood dripping into the bowl.

This part intimidates you.

"Do you want me to help?" He asks, eyes unreadable as he looks over at you. Without any resistance, you place your hand into his, where he effortlessly does the same to your finger as he did to himself - your own, bright red blood slowly falling into the bowl. He seems mesmerized at the sight, eyes never leaving the wound before he brings it to his lips, licking the excess off before he lets it go from between his lips, an almost sensual smile on then as he watches you.

"Even your blood is sweet, little thing." He tells you, chuckles before he stands up with you. "Lets go sneak into the kitchens. Maybe they have something to eat already for us to steal?" He impishly suggests, before pulling you along with him.

Jungkook is an odd guy sometimes.

He switches from the almost childish young man to the ruthless king in a matter of seconds in front of your eyes, never seems to lose control of himself at any cost, while also appearing untamed in the way he acts. Like a tiger in captivity he maybe appear to be calm and docile, but he's still ready to strike and kill at any chance given to him.

It shows when later that night, when he's offered a sword made by the local weapons union of his kingdom, the first thing he does is inspect its delicate decorated metal before he raises it at the man that gifted it to him, very tip barely touching his throat. It makes you flinch, but nobody else. It seems to amuse and entertain everyone present, if anything.

It reminds you that this is no human culture, no matter how often you compare it.

And slowly, you're coming to terms with it. You yourself will never fully understand any of it, but you have become a lot calmer by now. Jungkook doesn't like violence, no Temian does. But it's part of their culture, their way of showing pride and strength.

Behind closed doors, he easily grows soft, however.

Like now, with his big round red eyes staring at you after you'd asked him if you could sleep next to him tonight. He nods eagerly, throws back the covers, and pulls you close to him before he kills the lights. You've got your head on his chest, and oddly, accompanying his slow heartbeat is a deep rumbling, like a large cat purring.

It's odd. Reminds you he's not the same as you. But at the same time, it calms you down a lot. Makes you feel sleepy and safe, as if nothing could ever hurt you.

You've got your protector right at your side after all.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #alien jungkook #alien!jungkook

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ani-coolgirl · 3 months ago

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Wincest Reverse Bang 2024

I realize I never made a proper post for this to make it easy to find. This isn't an "official" post, but copying the Bang's format makes me feel like in some distant alternate universe, this came together on time.

Title: Where I Lay My Head Artist: deeranger Author: ani_coolgirl Rating: E Warnings/Spoilers: Rape/Non-Con, Torture, Harm to animals (off screen), Suicidal Thoughts (full tags/warnings on Ao3) Summary: After failing to complete the trials and close the gates to Hell, Sam is left in a weakened state, the ritual putting him just shy of death's door. Dean steps up to take care of his ailing brother, but Sam senses there's something off with the whole situation, something he can't quite put his finger on. Sickly and isolated, Sam tugs on the threads of doubt, and soon his life of recovery in the bunker—and his brother's sanity—start unraveling around him.

Art: Tumblr Fic: Ao3

While I'd had this idea kicking around my head for a while, Dee's art it was what really helped it come together. The scene that goes with the art is actually the first thing I wrote. Unfortunately, the fic didn't come together in a timely manner, which is why you won't find the fic listed on the Reverse Bang masterpost. Maybe I'll tell the long, sordid tale of why this was one day, but really it can be summed up thusly: I started late, couldn't keep the word count under control, panicked, had a teeny tiny mental breakdown involving very little sleep, and then eventually vomited the fic onto the screen. Since it was already late, I had the story betaed (it was originally going to be published warts and all, with hasty edits made after the fact), which, along with my decision to post a chapter at a time, made it even later. The extra polish was totally worth it, however.

I intended for this story to be around 10k words at most. It ended up almost four times that, which just goes to show you why planning, scheduling, and commitment is important (and an understanding of your own process and shortcomings). I, of course, haven't learned anything from this whole debacle, but perhaps someone else might. This wasn't my first event, but it was the first time I finished so late, so I'm swearing off events for a while. I love engaging with the fandom, but I hate potentially stressing out/disappointing others because I can't keep to a schedule, which really puts a damper on the whole thing.

Anyhow, I hope you enjoy the fic, the art, and my madness reflected onto Sam and Dean--it's their fault really, when you think about it.

#supernatural #spn #wincest reverse bang #wincest reverse bang 2024 #ani-coolgirl #deeranger #my fic #dean winchester #sam winchester #wincest

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iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia · 1 year ago

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Brainrot Housekeeping: A little note about Dorian

This is my heads-up that I've decided to try messing around on their platform and translating some of my headcanons into the Arcana's visual novel format.

This is not a promotional post. (hence why you won't be seeing any links, story titles, or profile handles)

It's mostly so that if anybody sees something posted by an author over there using my ideas/moniker, it's probably me and not a thief. Also, this blog is far and away my priority over that - if I start to feel overwhelmed or burnt out, that's going to be the first thing I stop doing. Not this :)

I'm putting more thoughts below the cut since the main point of this post is to be transparent about my activity to avoid misunderstandings:

I've been in conversation with plenty of people about Dorian. I've heard from people whose lives were transformed for the better because of it, I've heard from people with mixed feelings, I've heard from people whose lives were wrecked by it. It shouldn't be a surprise to anyone who's been on my page for a while that I'm fairly skeptical of them myself and don't always see eye-to-eye with them on how things seem to be run.

Anybody who's talked to me personally about it knows that I have boatloads more opinions, but I realized that those are based off of what I've heard much more than off of what I've experienced. So for transparency's sake, here are my reasons for trying this out:

First, the most important thing I've learned to do is to try encountering something for myself when I keep hearing and developing strong opinions about it. Sticking to this personal value is what got me out of Rai's server and influence (if you don't know and you want to know, read my pinned "to the arcana fandom" post) and ultimately what helped me get the resources I needed to help my friends get out of serious danger too. If I want to join the conversation about the clear divide between Dorian's vision for the Arcana and the fandom built around the original game, I have to try both sides out for myself.

Second, I'm a curious person and it seems like a new way to fuck around and find out (something I do constantly, though I rarely show it on here :P). I'm a creative, I love these characters, and the chance to see my own words in the original format sounds like fun.

To finish off, these are the goals and parameters I'm setting myself when it comes to however active I end up being over there. I'm putting them here again for transparency, but mainly to help me keep myself accountable:

My main goal is to try a new experience and have fun in the process. To do that, I'm going to keep my mind open without losing critical thinking and only make what I feel like making and when I feel like making it

Nothing I create is going to be motivated by a desire to be "successful". I'm already successful - I have a steady job IRL, a group of amazing friends, and this gift of a page that lets me be creative and find joy with other people around one of my many interests

Being active over there is going to be a bottom priority. If my tasks are getting to be too much, that will be the first to go because the only value I place in it at this time is experiental

If I find I can't stick to these goals, whether it be motivation, mentality, or just a loss of interest, I'll stop my activity over there and re-evaluate what I'm doing vs what I want to be doing and why

If I encounter something that's deeply concerning to me, I'll attempt to address it proactively through the proper channels available to me. If those concerns remain unaddressed and I think people need to know about it, I'll talk about it openly and honestly

I won't use my blog or server to promote any work I publish over there. Concurrently, I'll do my best to avoid any promotion off of the Dorian app

That's all from me for now about this! I'll be linking it in my pinned post so people who want to know more about me can look at it, but I won't be putting it on the arcana tag because I don't think it's relevant at this time.

Cheers!

brainrot

#ask arcana brainrot #dorian era

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violettavonviolet · 5 months ago

Text

Marvel Fic Rec's part 2

All of these fics are amazing and finished! The wordcount goes up as you scroll, I've marked the ratings but do check the tags yourself!

A star marks a fic that hasn't left my brain since I read it

Winter-iron

Out of the Shadows

CognizantCatastrophe

Summary:

“Can I at least have a crayon? Even kids get crayons,” Tony whined the next time he saw the soldier. “Seriously, I’m so bored I’m going to explode. I need something to do or I’m going to die.”

That time, it almost looked like the soldier was fighting back a laugh behind his mask. He left, however, without a sound.

The next time he returned, he tossed Tony a red crayon.

---------------

Tony is kidnapped, and the Winter Soldier is his guard. When a botched mind-wipe restores the man's mind, however, that's when things get interesting... especially because he is the only real potential soulmate Tony has ever found.

24k mature

The Guiding of Death *

RayShippouUchiha

Summary:

“Hades and Persephone reborn huh,” Fury states then more than asks, “no need to ask which is which.”

Toni’s brows furrow even as dread begins to squirm to life inside of her.

But before she can say anything, before she can open her mouth and set the record straight, she hears it.

A murmur as loud as a scream from somewhere in the tomb silent bridge.

“That whole Merchant of Death thing,” someone off to the side faux whispers, “makes a lot more sense now.”

It echoes across the bridge like a gunshot.

41k mature

Letters to Bucky

NotEvenCloseToStraight

Summary:

Stuck in rehab after a near-fatal accident, Tony reaches out via letters to a soldier overseas, and Bucky is more than happy to write back, drawn to Tony for a reason he can't quite name. One or two letters turn into a years worth, then come the phone calls, with Tony quickly realizing that Bucky's voice, with that rolling Brooklyn accent might be his new favorite sound.

When Bucky shows up unannounced at Tony's door, one thing leads to another and maybe a confession or two is made. But Bucky's tour overseas isn't over yet, not even close, and they have months more of distance between them.

Then Bucky disappears, missing in action, and Tony doesn't know if he will ever get his soldier back. And if Bucky DOES make it home, will he be the same boy from Brooklyn who sent Tony love poems, or has his time away and his injuries changed him for good?

BONUS CHRISTMAS CHAPTER ADDED 12/10/18

48k explicit

Other

myrtle and fennel blossoms

graveltotempo

Summary:

There is something odd about Tony Stark.

3.5k Thor/Tony teen

I'll be there

graveltotempo

Summary:

“Yo, are you fucking insane?” asked Erik, and, between the gun in his hands and the way Thor was staring at him in confused disbelief, a hand over his shoulder, it was clear that he had used it on him once already. Ineffectively, cause Thor was a god - and Tony had just nearly died again, holy shit - but enough to stun him.

“Erik-” started Tony, but it came out a little croaky, and he put a hand on his neck at the pain. That fucking hurt.

Erik seemed to grow further angry, while Thor frowned at Tony. “What fucking business does your ass have, grabbing an unarmed civilian by the neck? Look at how he sounds after less than a second in your fucking paws, were you fucking trying to kill him?”

4.8k Erik Killmonger/Tony teen

Billionaire's cake

everythingispoetry

Summary:

The first time Phil gets to eat something baked by Tony, it's purely accidental. The other times - not so much.

Or: a story about a relationship that starts with donuts and doesn't end because of donuts.

16k phil/tony

Off Script *

bear_bell

Summary:

Agent Coulson sees Stark smile, and he's compromised.

18k phil/tony teen

theme of wonder

graveltotempo

Summary:

When Thanos, the Mad Titan, breached the walls of the Underworld, in a bid to kill Hades and make Persephone his own, the King and Queen of the Dead cast a spell.

A spell of time and souls, so that their love would be everlasting and so that they never would be without one another. So that their soul and immortal spirit would continue to reincarnate into different human bodies for cycles to come, and so that they could always find each other, not matter when or where.

And for centuries, through the fall of Alexandria and the Salem Witch Trials, through the rise of the Ottoman reign and the fall of the Roman Empire, it works.

Until Persephone wakes alone in a cave, surrounded by ash, smoke and sand, and Hades wakes alone in Kamar Taj, drenched in water and with blood on his sheets.

Both alone.

And as the Infinity Stones start popping up around them again, and the oddness of this cycle continues, they know that the reckoning is approaching, that the end is near.

That the Mad Titan is once more at their door.

23k stephen strange/ tony stark gen

Peter Parker

Kind, Sober, and Fully Dressed

Traincat

Summary:

"Pete, my man, my completely platonic best bro," he muttered to himself in the voice he reserved solely for mocking Johnny Storm. "Come over and watch my maybe sex tape! Fun times! Just two guys hanging out -" he slammed the bathroom door maybe a little harder than necessary "- watching the one guy's celebrity sex tape! Good clean fun!"

Mrs. Moretti downstairs banged on her ceiling with a broom.

Everything was coming up Parker tonight.

Or, in which Peter proves himself tragically unable to take a hint. Post-Amazing Spider-Man Digital #17, aka the time Johnny asked Peter to watch his sex tape.

8k spideytorch mature

Always Glad You Came *

aloneintherain

Summary:

Spider-Man is a relatively new, controversial vigilante, and Johnny has a crush the size of the Empire Building. The Four - operating under the assumption that Spidey is an adult - do not approve.

“I just happen to think Spider-Man's cool,” Johnny says, matter-of-factly. “A hero can think another hero is cool without making it weird. I admire his aloofness. And his badass-ness.”

“His aloofness,” Ben repeats, chuckling into his mug of beer. It’s roughly the size of Johnny’s head. “Yeah, sure, I bet that’s all your admire, right?”

13k spideytorch teen

Hey Baby, Slip between my Beta-Pleats and get to know my Alpha-Helix? *

Anonymous

Summary:

Even though Tony can't tell the difference between Manolo Blahnik and Jimmy Choo, Peter really has no other choice.

His heat is around the corner, so even though he loathes the party-going, booze drinking, smug playboy know-it-all that is Tony Stark-

He'll just have to do.

37k starker explicit

Lying by Omission

deniigiq

Summary:

“I know I said I was up for anything--” he told Hogarth carefully, trying to surreptitiously slide the files back onto her desk.

She slapped a hand on them and pushed them back towards him.

“Mr. Nelson, you are one of the best lawyers on staff, and I am seriously considering the pros and cons of a potential partnership here,” she told him, staring up at him without moving her face or hand. Somehow, the files continued to dig into the meat of his palm.

“--but it turns out,” he valiantly carried on, “I am actually and suddenly extremely busy with the destruction Jessica will cause in approximately twenty minutes, which will have nothing to do with me or any favors or bribes or anything like that—”

(Someone brings Team Red's (and the Punisher's) loved ones back from the dead to torture them for information on their vigilantes. Hogarth coerces Foggy to handle the resulting legal fallout and he is both the worst and best person for the job.)

40k not rated Peter & Matt &Wade

I'll Tell No Lies

doctorestranged

Summary:

When a series of murders take place, Peter Parker goes undercover in Sister Margaret’s to get intel on Tony Stark’s prime suspect: Deadpool. Peter goes in hoping to get enough information so that Spider-Man can save the day, but like everything in Peter’s life, it becomes a bit more complicated than that and it soon becomes apparent that he might not be the best fit for the job.

77k peter/wade

Other

like the rain chooses the grass *

Tsume_Yuki

Summary:

Fuck. Not once had he ever considered his soulmate would be anything other than a black woman. His opinions on that are already far too solidified to allow for anything else.

Yet green eyes and a carbon copy soulmark are telling him otherwise.

Fuck this shit.

31k Erik Killmonger/Harry Potter

In Wade We Trust (We Are So Screwed)

dentalfloss

Summary:

“Wade Wilson dropped by last night,” Clint explained, like it was any other Friday. “Brought pizza and beer.” There was a thoughtful silence through the phone and then:

“You had a pizza party with Deadpool.” Phil said and Clint slid down the couch onto his back. Yeah, that pretty much summed up the situation.

Or: the one where Clint does something nice for Wade, and Wade decides to never let him go.

44k clint/coulson wade&clint teen

marvel fic recs part 1

#vio's recs #fanfiction recommendation #winteriron #tony stark #peter parker #spideypool #spideytorch

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xbruised-peachx · 1 year ago

Note

since you are staring to like fender do you have any headcanons for him 👀

SO, the problem I'm having is I actually know very little about Hungary, so often with my headcanons, I try to also make them accurate for someone who is actually that nationality. Unfortunately I don't know anyone from Hungary to ask either so unlike Gromsko, mine are gonna probably have some inaccuracies and I do apologize and they may seem a lil standard but, I'll give em a shot bc there is so lil content abt Fender anyway!

Fender Headcanons

Tags: none actually! these are just general headcanons that could be applied anywhere :)

Let's start with one that's basically canon you can't convince me otherwise; His call sign is Fender, the guitar brand, he has multiple lines referring to music ("Now we're jamming!" "Shows over!" "Get the fuck off my stage..." "Very rock and roll 🤔" "Let's get the band together!" etc.), and his voice actor can sing really well. He is definitely a musician of some sort and strikes me as a metal head for sure. Some of his favorites are System of a Down, Slayer, and Avenged Sevenfold.

His bio states he was father was a CIA op and mother was a "guerrilla revolutionary" in communist Budapest. Communism ended in Hungary around end of 1989, so at the youngest, he's 33 since the game takes place at the end of 2022.

With his father dying when he was young, he's definitely a mama's boy. However he also give off eldest sibling energy so I think he has a few younger half-siblings. He also has daddy issues, sorry that's canon.

He is definitely a gym rat with that gym skin he got April. But I want to combine it with the Mtn. Dew skin because he's gremlin coded and yeah no, he's combined his pre-workout powder with Mtn Dew and swears he saw God while using a stair climber.

He's had his tooth gap since his adult teeth first started coming in, but he absolutely despised the dentist. Being his mom's first child, and just generally not growing up in the most wealthy household, he managed to convince her he didn't really need an orthodontist or braces. Hence, his cute lil smile he has now.

In general, he's very confident in his abilities, a little abrasive but charming in his own way. He will always remain friendly at first until wronged. He got bullied as a kid so he does have his guard up and it takes a bit to truly gain his trust. He also is a bit hot headed and will stay angry for quite a few hours.

He will often use the fact he's half American as a joke... a lot. He says that's why he loves Mtn Dew, why he learned English so early in his life despite his dad already being gone, and that he definitely got his love for explosives from his dad's side of the family.

He's not super patriotic though for Hungary. He likes his home country but doesn't quite like speaking Hungarian around the others in Kortac knowing they won't understand him. Only rarely will they catch him talking under his breath to himself or when he's startled in battle (example, "VIGYÁZZ!").

He will however, cuss someone out in his language. There are no holes barred there, he will say some the most jaw dropping shit if they knew what he was saying. This often leads to him laughing mid-cuss out as they look to him incredibly confused.

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #cod mw2 #fender takacs #fender #fender mw2 #fender x reader #yeah ill add the x reader in there why not #ill write an actual x reader probs soon i have an idea #let me cook #also i may not know hungarian culture at all but i am american and god damn ill cling to that one half of fender just for jokes #because i love making fun of americans #fender writing

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icedragonlizard · 1 year ago

Text

Wave 3 Dream Friend dynamics

A lot of the Kirby fandom interprets these three being friends. No surprise that I do the same.

I'll be going over their individual dynamics: Magolor & Taranza, Magolor & Susie and Taranza & Susie.

But before that, I have one general headcanon for all of them: They all met each other before Star Allies. Hahaha. There you go.

Anyways, let's get started on their individual dynamics. Please note that as always, this is purely my headcanons.

I'll put a 'Keep reading' tag because this is gonna be quite a long one!

Magolor and Taranza

-They're conversation partners. Magolor is always energetic and talkative in terms of conversations, and Taranza really likes that from him, so he considers Magolor as a really good convo partner.

-Magolor sometimes gives Taranza gifts to make him feel better, because he feels bad for his loss.

-Hugs happen between the two as well, since Taranza could always use hugs. It always makes him feel better.

-Magolor sometimes pranks Taranza but he never tries to go too far. There are occasions where Taranza attempts to prank him back as a 'gotcha moment'.

-Magolor has gotten Taranza out of his comfort zone to do more and more fun things.

-Being friends with Magolor long enough has convinced Taranza to start slowly growing back the super smug and arrogant persona that he once had before Sectonia's death.

-They sometimes have dumb and stupid fun together. Taranza is one of Magolor's many partners-in-crime.

-Considering that they're both magicians, they talk about magic. Magolor is a magic fanatic and always gets stoked to see Taranza performing his magic.

-Magolor promotes Floralia in Merry Magoland, to Taranza's joy.

-There were moments where Magolor ended up upsetting Taranza with things that involved Sectonia, including the "Old Friend" mask when he was making masks for Merry Magoland. However, he always sincerely apologizes every time this happens.

-They sometimes visit each other's homes.

-Magolor sometimes likes to hype Taranza up to other people. Taranza thinks it's both really nice and also honestly a little bit embarrassing at the same time.

Magolor and Susie

-Conversation partners. They both have wider vocabulary than just about anyone else, so their conversations will seem super nerdy.

-They've disclosed their Another Dimension experiences with each other. They both totally agree that Another Dimension sucks. Magolor was incredibly stunned at how long Susie was stuck there.

-Friendly rivals, basically. They love to constantly 'own' each other through bickering and insults. They get entertainment out of pissing each other off. It's enriching for them.

-Magolor pulls pranks on Susie sometimes. Eventually, this has resulted in Susie learning to pull pranks on her own. She does it to Magolor, much to his surprise. He both loves and hates it when she pranks him back.

-These two are basically partners-in-crime. Aside from trolling each other, they also like coordinating in trolling others.

-They've bailed each other out of trouble a few times.

-Magolor has gotten Susie out of her comfort zone to do more fun things, similarly to what he did for Taranza.

-They talk about technology a lot. They collaborate on tech stuff. Susie once offered to help repair the Lor Starcutter when it broke down one time because Magolor crashed it during a trip.

-They've formed a business partnership. Magolor promotes Susie's tech in Merry Magoland and even gives her free ice cream when she shows up. Susie on the other hand flies by other planets to advertise Magolor's theme park. Susie also occasionally sings in Merry Magoland whenever her schedule makes it possible.

-Neither of them are seriously huggers on their own, so they don't hug each other, but they fist-bump a lot. They mostly fist-bump when they both feel smug. They also do super 'cool' handshakes.

-Magolor has told Susie a few times that he would've liked to meet her father. She isn't really sure what to make of this. It made her feel extremely awkward at first when he went as far as to make a mask of her father for Merry Magoland, but eventually got over it.

-Susie's weekend outfit mask for Merry Magoland happened because Magolor asked her to show him another outfit she wears to make a mask out of. He was generous enough to make 2 masks of her likeliness because she's one of his closer friends.

Taranza and Susie

-They found genuine solace in each other because of their losses. They feel really bad for each other. The friendship between these two is special because they understand each other's struggles in a way that nobody else does.

-Best friends.

-They both act as emotional support for each other, even if Susie normally isn't great at doing that, but she really feels for Taranza because she's noticed the similarities that his struggles have to hers... both stayed loyal to their corrupted loved ones until they died.

-Both have been working on trying to recover from their losses, but Taranza has had a harder time doing so. This has resulted in Susie often taking care of him whenever they're near each other. Vice versa has happened as well, but not as often.

-Hugs happen between these two. Taranza is one of the very few people that Susie gladly accepts hugs from. The other being Kirby.

-Taranza gets really defensive whenever someone would accuse Susie of being a bad person. He would always immediately stand up for her and make it clear that she's trying to be better compared to what she was before.

-Susie protects Taranza. She literally acts like a 'protective big sister' for him although she's like barely a year older. She'll kick your ass if you try to bully Taranza in any way. I'm looking at you, Marx.

-"HE ASKED FOR NO PICKLES" is basically what these two are like.

-They help each other learn more about each other's interests. Taranza learns more about tech and Susie learns more about flora.

-Because Magolor has gotten these two out of their comfort zones, it resulted in these two doing silly fun things together.

-Taranza wasn't really an ice cream eater before being friends with Susie. Eventually, she helps get him to eat ice cream more.

-Taranza likes that Susie's voice sounds similar to Sectonia's voice. This is a hc of mine, because… I mean, they have the same canon voice actress.

General headcanons for the trio as a whole

-They all have phones that they talk to each other on. Susie made the phones. This is especially helpful because Susie lives on a different planet that isn't Popstar, so she can just talk to the other two whenever without having to go back and forth.

-Magolor and Taranza sometimes visit Susie at her home planet, whether it's at the same time or it's just one of them. She visits them at their homes as well.

-Whenever Susie takes a vacation on Popstar, she sleeps at either Magolor's place or at Taranza's place.

-Magolor sometimes takes the other two in Lor Starcutter rides.

-The first time that any of these three visited the Forgotten Land is when Magolor used the Lor Starcutter to get all three of them there at the same time, and thus they all made their first visit there together. They did this because Elfilin doesn't like them and thus refused to make a portal for them.

-All three of them act like 'older sibling friends' to Kirby. They've been staying in touch with him after Star Allies. Kirby acts as emotional support for all three of them.

-All three of them really like Gooey. Whenever Gooey encounters one of them, he's going to receive head pats.

-The Mage Sisters are close friends to all three of them. There are hangouts and parties that involve the six of them.

-Sorry, but Marx doesn't form a quartet with them. This is because Taranza and Susie both hate Marx, as he loves to upset them both. Magolor is the only one out of the trio that is friends with Marx, as he has to keep Taranza and Susie away from him.

-One could maybe say that in my headcanon universe, Daroach could have a better chance of forming a quartet with them than Marx does. But even then, he doesn't quite make the cut either. Daroach likes to steal from Taranza and Susie, so they're not fans of him as a result, although they can tolerate him a lot better than they can with Marx. Magolor on the other hand does consider Daroach as a friend, as the two have this thing where they love stealing from each other.

-All three of them hate Dark Meta Knight. This is because of DMK's involvement in corrupting Sectonia, which of course has caused Taranza to hate him with every fiber of his being. Magolor and Susie sometimes mock and harass DMK in the name of Taranza.

-Magolor considers Taranza and Susie to be his next best friends, after Marx and Kirby.

That's everything I got for these three! If you're a fan of one of these three characters and you really liked reading all this, you're welcome!

#kirby #magolor #kirby's return to dreamland #kirby's return to dreamland deluxe #taranza #kirby triple deluxe #susie haltmann #susie kirby #kirby susie #susanna patrya haltmann #kirby planet robobot #kirby star allies #kirby and the forgotten land #merry magoland

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ageless-aislynn · 9 months ago

Text

Title: “Recreation” (4/5) Author:@ageless-aislynn Characters/fandom: Kai-125/M!Reader, Halo the series Summary: A fellow in green Mjolnir gives you a little help in setting up a surprise dinner for Kai. 😉 Rating: T (PG13) Length: 2,211 Spoilers/warnings: Set in the Silver Timeline of Halo the series, not the games or novels. No show spoilers. Disclaimer: Definitely not mine but I do enjoy borrowing them just for a bit! 😉 A/N: Believe it or not, we're finally reaching the end of this little journey - the next chapter will be the last. However, it's set to slot in-between "15 Minutes" chapters 14 and 15, so it'll be a little while before it appears. (I'll be working on ch11 for that next. 😉)

A special thank you so much to everybody who's hung in here while it's taken me waaay too long to finish things. 😞 And a heart-felt thank you to everyone who has read and/or kudos and commented, then, now or in the future. It means a lot to me! Hope you enjoy! ⭐💖⭐

Taglist: @laurenstacy610 @sporadicbelievernightmare @sarnakhwritesthings

I tagged everybody I tagged last time but, as always, if you’d prefer not to be, just let me know! And if you would like to be tagged in my Kai/Reader fics, just let me know! At the moment, I also write John/Reader, John/Kai and John/Cortana, so I’m glad to tag you for whatever you’d like. Also, if you’d like to be removed, just let me know as well, no hard feelings. 😉 ��

Halo fic masterlist ⭐

"Now," you said seriously, "I think we should be open to new things, don't you?"

You held up a tennis ball and waited.

Gigi looked at you skeptically. You very slowly knelt and extended it towards her, careful to not get too close. This was her decision and trying to force it would only make things worse. She didn't take a step but she did lean as far as she could, sniffing the ball. Then she turned up her nose and retreated to her favorite spot under the porch.

"I thought you might not be a fan of a used tennis ball," you said, standing and giving it a toss out of the way, "but I figured we should give it a try, just in case."

You grabbed the container you'd left on the porch and popped the seal. "Now," you went on, "how do you feel about a brand new ball? Guaranteed fresh, nobody else's teeth marks or slobber on it. Interested?"

You held it down, waiting. Her eyes glittered thoughtfully in the shadows, then she emerged back out into the light. She eventually bumped your hand with her nose. You carefully adjusted so your fingers were out of the way if she wanted to take the ball.

She seemed to consider it for a long moment, then sat resolutely, looking at you as if to say, Your move.

You gave the ball a gentle roll away, then retrieved it, showing it to her. "See? That's how you do it."

You repeated the procedure a couple more times, underhand throwing it a bit farther each time. The last time, you gave it a little more muscle than you'd intended and had to trot a ways for it. When you returned, you could almost swear the small gray dog was about to very politely clap her paws.

Then she abruptly disappeared under the porch. A split second later, Kai appeared around the corner.

"I think she's almost got you trained," she teased.

You let the ball drop as you strode over to her. "I think you're right," you said and as soon as you were within reach, she kissed you.

"Hello," she murmured when she released you.

"Hello," you repeated, sounding rather dazed. "Silver off-duty?"

"Unfortunately not," she said, "or I'd suggest we get some lunch. But I wanted to see if you'd be interested in dinner? I thought we could--"

"Yes," you blurted out.

"Don't you want to hear the idea before you agree to it?" she asked.

You gave a hitch of your shoulder. "Doesn't matter. If you're going to be there, that's where I'd like to be, too."

"I know the feeling," she said then cleared her throat. "But I was wondering if you wanted to do something super fancy? I saw a restaurant the other day that looked like it might cost an entire year's salary just walk through the door. I talked to the doorman, turns out the owners have a fondness for Spartans. Said they'd be thrilled to give us a discount and we don't even need a reservation."

"I think I know the place. They have a dress code, formal wear only, fancy dresses, expensive tux, that sort of thing."

"Yeah," she said, rubbing her hands together gleefully.

You hated to have to break it to her. "I, um, don't have a tux," you admitted. "Or a fancy dress, for that matter."

"Oh, well, I'm sure we can…" she trailed off, then began to chuckle. "I don't have a fancy dress, either. Or a tux. The most expensive 'outfit' I ever wear is my Mjolnir."

"If they're Spartan fans, they'd probably accept that," you said. "Give me a few days and I'll see what I can come up for--"

"Nah," she interrupted. "It was just a thought. I wouldn't mind staying in, actually. Meet up at my room at chow time, then?"

You nodded, saying, "I'll be there."

She caught hold of the front of your shirt and pulled you into another scorching kiss. "Hopefully I will be, too, handsome. Unless the Covenant makes the bad decision to ruin my dinner plans."

"No worries, I understand."

"Wish I could stay longer but you'll do better with Gigi if I'm not here," she said.

"I'm not sure I'll be making progress any time soon," you confessed.

The corner of her mouth twitched. "Oh, I think you're doing better than you realize. Where'd the ball go?"

You turned to look and... the ball was gone. Or rather, it was just barely visible under the porch, resting between two little gray paws.

You looked back at Kai and she grinned.

Back on base, someone called your name as you wove through the crowded hallway. The other marines parted, revealing Master Chief in his Mjolnir, carrying his helmet at his hip and cutting towards you with purpose.

"Walk with me," he said brusquely and you fell in step as directed.

You couldn't help but wonder if he was going to take over for Vannak-134 and lay down a series of veiled or not-so-veiled threats now that things had... escalated with you and Kai. It caught you off-guard, then, when he said, "What do you know about massage?"

You blinked a few times. "Therapeutic or recreational?" you finally asked.

"Therapeutic. Recreational. Both, possibly."

"Are you asking for a recommendation as to where to get a...?" you trailed off as the look he gave you would've probably knocked over three Grunts, two Jackals and at least one fully armed Field Marshal.

"I want to learn how to give a massage to a non-Spartan in a way that won't cause discomfort," he clarified.

It all clicked. Of course, everybody knew about Chief's friend and the injuries she'd recently taken. "How is she?" you asked. "Kai mentioned wanting us to stop by to check in on her but I didn't know if she was up for visitors."

His expression gentled. "I think she'd like that. She's healing but… It takes time. Apparently."

You inclined your head thoughtfully. "Have you asked somebody in medical about therapeutic massage?"

"I was hoping for a little more discretion."

"ODST Jerry--"

"--would be a lot less discreet than asking medical," he interrupted.

You crossed your arms in contemplation. "When I was assigned to A-Company, Corporal Perez used to wager massages instead of credits in poker games."

"And his massages were that good?"

You shrugged. "Don't know personally, never beat him. But there had to be something to it because everybody did their best to win one."

"A-Company is on Reach right now," he mused.

"I'm sure he'll help you, no poker game required."

"All right, then, I'll talk to him. Thanks."

"Um, Chief?" you said before he could walk away. "Do you have access to Kai's room, by any chance?"

And that look probably caused half a dozen Grunts just outright drop dead somewhere. Your self-preservation instincts insisted that you take a slight but distinctive step back.

"Why do you ask?" he said flatly.

"I'd like to surprise her." You quickly detailed out your plan.

At the end of it, he paused, evaluating, then said, "All right, I'll help you."

You were just straightening the bouquet on the table when your padd chimed.

117: On her way.

You sent back a thanks, then put the padd away and finished the last touches to set the scene before heading out to wait in the hall.

Kai came around the corner, dressed in crisp, dark gray civvies, and her face lit up when she saw you. She greeted you with a kiss, then stepped back and looked you over from head to toe. "Wow," she finally said.

It would've taken a stronger person than you not to preen a bit under her admiring gaze. "You like?" you asked, spreading your arms a bit.

You were wearing your regular civvies pants and boots but from somewhere Master Chief had actually produced a button-down dress shirt and matching tie, all color-coordinated to best compliment your eyes. Chief had told you that last part with a slightly bemused expression, as if he were repeating nonsensical words in a foreign language he was being fed by an ear comm.

"Oh, I like," Kai said. "A lot."

You stopped her before she opened the door. "Close your eyes."

"It's a surprise?" she said and just from that tone, you immediately made a mental note to find some way to throw her a surprise party one day.

"It's a surprise," you confirmed and the hand she put over her eyes did nothing to hide her broad smile. You opened the door and led her into the darkened room. Once the door had closed behind you both, you told her she could look.

The table that had been set up in front of the couch was laden with shiny covered trays of food, with barely enough room for the centerpiece of flowers and candles at the center. You'd set the room lights to a quarter, low enough for ambiance but bright enough so you didn't have to worry about tripping over your chair.

"What's this?" she said, her expression delighted.

"Well, since we couldn't get to the fancy restaurant on such short notice, I thought we could bring the fancy restaurant to us. Do… do you like it?"

"It… This is the nicest thing anybody has ever done for me," she said, a definite sheen to her eyes. The hug she gave you was perhaps a bit too tight but there was no force in this universe or any other that would've made you pull away.

After dinner, you and Kai moved the table out of the way and cuddled up on the couch in the circle of lights and shadows cast by the candlelight.

"How did you manage all of this?" she asked, positioning so that her head rested on your shoulder.

"Master Chief," you said without hesitation. "He wanted to ask me about massages and I took the opportunity to--"

That had her sitting back up to look at you. "He wanted you to give him a massage?" she questioned, arching a brow thoughtfully. "Or to give you a massage? Is oil involved? Because I'm pretty sure I could sell a shit-ton of tickets to any of that and I want to get on it before ODST Jerry beats me to it."

"He wanted to learn how to safely give a massage to a non-Spartan," you explained. "And, uh, thanks?"

She chuckled, then looked thoughtful. "Does massage help healing?"

"It can. Even just simple touch can be very therapeutic."

You could see that trying to process. "Spartans heal by pushing through it," she finally said.

You had known how badly she had been injured, of course, but that had been before you had spoken that fateful time in the elevator. "Maybe you would've healed even faster if you would've had somebody to...?"

As you trailed off, you traced the curve of her cheek with your fingertips. Her eyelids fluttered as if she were briefly overwhelmed by the sensation, so you gave her a moment, then repeated it. She leaned into your touch, letting her eyes close.

You tenderly tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear, then brushed your fingers along her temple, her cheek, her jaw. Her breathing hitched slightly as you skimmed the pad of your thumb across her lower lip.

Your fingers moved to sweep slowly across her forehead, followed the line of her nose, went back to her temple on the other side, making your way in leisurely strokes down to her chin. When you touched her mouth again, her lips parted and her eyes opened.

"Can I try?" she asked, her tone husky.

Words fled you then, so you nodded.

She used a single fingertip to map the broadest features of your face, a rough sketch as she figured out how much pressure and strength to use. Then she repositioned in a heartbeat, straddling your lap so she could use both hands, and she explored your features so thoroughly you felt as if she had made a masterpiece out of you by the time she was done.

"Are you sure this is what they do for therapy?" she murmured into your ear.

"This might be more recreational than therapeutic," you admitted and loosened your tie.

With deft motions, she undid the tie completely and pulled it free, draping over her own shoulders. "They fixed the bed," she said conversationally, her gaze flicking from your mouth to your eyes and back again.

It took two tries for you to respond. "Uh, did they? Good."

She found the top button of your dress shirt and popped it free of the buttonhole. "Want to break it again?"

You gave her a crooked grin. "Yes, please, ma'am."

She winked, standing and pulling you to your feet in a smooth motion. As she led you across the room, she paused just long enough to blow out the candles but, even in the abrupt change in lighting, you had no trouble seeing her brilliant smile.

Note: You might think that Corporal Perez is a nod towards Cpl. Talia Perez from season 2 but I suspect that she might've been named for this fellow from Halo 2's level "Metropolis." He's one of my favorite NPCs and I always tell him hi when I see him, lol! (In my mind, he knows that, too. *nodnods*) This level is one of my all-time favs so I've seen Cpl. Perez quite a bit and I wanted to give him a little shout-out. 😉

#halo #halo the series #halo paramount+#x reader #kai-125 #kai-125 x reader #kai-125 x male reader #kai-125 x m!reader #male reader #fic: recreation #series: how to date a spartan without even trying #aislynn's fic #aislynn's fics #ageless aislynn #ais is dancing as fast as she can to figure out ways to still make GIFs without having the - you know - original ability to 😉

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ravensroleplays · 3 months ago

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Okay, you know what? Gonna share the AU idea I've been toying around with for a while, because why not?

Also, I'm just going to state upfront that I haven't figured out all the details just yet--this is very much a work in progress at this point. I just kind of want to share what I have right now.

I'm also going to admit that this idea was based in part off the family from the Fox cartoon Krapopolis X'D Haven't watched the show myself (and I have no plans of doing so, for several reasons), but after seeing the promo on my aunt's TV last year, I actually got curious enough to look up the show's Wikipedia page, and I can appreciate the blended family dynamic of the main characters. Also, I stated some time back that I do actually like the idea of Hat Kid and Mustache Girl being sisters, whether it's through adoption or they're biological sisters--and I just couldn't leave Bow Kid out of it, because she's babey :3

Now then, all that out of the way, here's what I've been thinking (and yeah, I'm going to put all of this under a cut, bc it's LONG):

First big difference: Charles (the name of the Prince in my AU(s), for those who didn't know that) and Vanessa did actually get married in this one, rather than just being engaged, like in my main AU, Specters and Space Aliens, and Hat Kid is their biological daughter.

However, Vanessa being Vanessa, she of course got jealous of her own daughter taking attention away from her husband, and Charles, fearing that Vanessa might hurt their daughter, arranged with Tim, the CEO of Time and Space, to take little Hatty with him to the Timekeeper's planet, at least until some time had passed, and he was able to cool Vanessa's temper. Alas, that wouldn't come to pass, as afterwards, Charles got the idea to buy his wife some flowers and...well, you know the rest.

However, unknown to Charles, it wasn't the first time one of them had done something like this...a couple of years before, Vanessa secretly had a one night stand with a man from what was then Mustache Town. After discovering she was going to have a baby, Vanessa used magic to hide her pregnancy until the time came, and gave birth to the child who would come to be known as Mustache Girl in secret, and arranged to have her sent to Mustache Town in order to be raised by her father.

So now you have a Hat Kid who actually did grow up on the Timekeeper's planet, being raised by Tim as a sort of granddaughter to him. At some point, Bow Kid (who no, isn't Moonjumper's creation/daughter here, though I'll get to old MJ in a bit), an orphaned Timekeeper child, ends up meeting Hatty, and Hatty asks Tim if Bow can live with them, with the two girls adopting each other as sisters.

From there on, the events of the main game play out like in canon, albeit with Bow tagging along with Hatty through Mafia Town, Dead Bird Studios...and eventually Subcon Forest. Like in the SaSA! AU, MJ corrupted Charles into Snatcher...however, since here it's only been about six years as opposed to hundreds, if not thousands, he's not quite gone yet. So not only does Snatcher NOT take the girls' souls, but he recognizes his daughter's soul and HOLY COW HIS DAUGHTER IS BACK.

So to make a long story short, after the events of the game, and after struggling with his own doubts and giving up taking souls and murdering people (though he DOES have a MUCH easier time of it here than in my main AU), Snatcher decides he wants to try and be a father again and, after Tim reveals the truth of Hatty's parentage to her, he allows her to return to Subcon Forest to be with her dad, albeit under the condition that he be allowed to stop by now and then to make sure things are going well. So Hatty goes to live in Subcon, bringing Bow with her, since she's grown attached to her adopted sister, and Snatcher not only has his old daughter back, but he also has a new daughter as well.

But it isn't ALL Roman candles--sometime after her defeat, Mustache Girl ended up going into self-imposed exile from the former Mafia Town, and, after doing some research, learned that she, like Hatty, was actually royalty--the elder daughter of Queen Vanessa. So she also treks into Subcon to meet up with mommy dearest...suffice it to say, it doesn't go quite as warmly as Hatty and Snatcher's reunion, but at some point she puts it out that she is, in fact, Vanessa's daughter and, though it takes some doing, Van's eventually like 'Oh HECK, this is the kid I gave up.'

So yeah, the AU is basically Hatty being caught in the middle as her former soul-stealer dad tries to be a better person and a good dad to her and her adopted sister, while her crazy ice witch mom and half-sister who once tried to kill her scheme to try and get back the prince and kingdom, respectively XD

I call it: 'Dysfunctional Blended Family AU'

Thoughts?

#mun speaks #ahit au #hat kid ahit #snatcher ahit #vanessa ahit #mustache girl ahit #bow kid ahit #tw: soul-stealing mention #tw: soul-eating mention #tw: murder mention #tw: sex mention #(just for the bit about vanessa having a one night stand just to be on the safe side)#tw: pregnancy mention #(for a friend of mine who is triggered by thoughts of pregnancy)#may or may not end up going along with this--specters and space aliens will always ALWAYS be my number one ahit au #but this could be fun to do sometime?#maybe?

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aylacavebear · 11 months ago

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Stockroom Antics - Chapter 11

Maria had changed jobs numerous times over the last five years, more to keep herself safe than anything else. Her mother had told her she was a fairy but she thought it was just her mom being weird. Honestly, though, she had no other way of explaining what had happened to her that stormy day before she'd gone into a coma for two weeks.

Please don't take my work. I'll post warnings for each chapter. Will probably be 18+ I haven't decided yet!

Word Count: 1242

Pairing eventually Dean Winchester x OC

Warnings: Angst

A/N: This one's written a little differently than my last one. Let me know what you think. It's the first time I've tried this type of writing. Chapters will alternate viewpoints as well. I also looked into an actual area so this one could feel more realistic. This one is taking on a life of it's own in a turn I hadn't anticipated, so adding a new tag.

----------------------------------------- Stockroom Antics Chapter 11

You’d used your powers to set up your room comfortably, deciding it might be better to fully explore what you were really capable of doing.

When Dean talked about the King of Hell, all the nightmarish images from movies and television shows played through your mind. The one that stuck was the character from the movie Legend.

The man that appeared in the devil’s trap was not what you’d expected to see, nor was hearing his Scottish accept. He looked like a regular man to you. His words took you by surprise, as he didn’t seem to be mean, let alone like anything you’d envisioned in your mind. The pet names got on your nerves, though.

When he disappeared, you headed back out to the library, leaving the brothers in the room they’d summoned him in. Your mind wandered to what Crowley had said, that those who depend on the brothers tend to end up dead. If you were being honest with yourself, you knew very little about the two of them.

You stared at the books on the table, then focused your thoughts, wanting to figure out how to fully unlock your powers. A part of you was worried that it might make you a bigger target, but you also felt safe being in the bunker than at your home. The books moved around, about an inch off the table. Two of them then set themselves down directly in front of you. Before you could reach down and touch either of them, they opened to pages with the information you were seeking.

For a brief moment, you glanced toward the hallway where the archive room was, and when you didn’t see either of the brothers, you looked back down at the books. You reached your hand out, picking the books up before heading into your room, closing the door behind you. This way, neither of the brothers could interfere.

Once you were comfortable at your desk, you began reading. The first book gave you an extremely long chapter on finding true love with your soulmate, and the first kiss would basically unlock all your powers. To that idea, you just rolled your eyes, never believing in such fairy tales, as you called them,

The second book, however, held more technical information. There were spells that could be performed, but you had to be a skilled witch to do them, so you ignored that section. The other parts talked about doing bigger and grander things, pushing yourself to the brink of exhaustion at every opportunity available but no less than once a day.

You sighed as you looked up from the book. That was something you’d never done, not even remotely close, and you weren’t sure if you were capable. But at the same time, it was more plausible than finding that whole soulmate thing the other book talked about.

A groan left your lips as you leaned back in your chair, glancing at your door. You weren’t sure how long you’d been in your room or what the brothers were up to. The things from the first book you’d read came back to your mind, the things it said you could do.

Now, you just had to figure out what to expend your energy on. You slipped both the books under the mattress of your bed, as you didn’t want either of the brothers to know that stuff. Then, you headed out toward the library, hearing their muffled voices from the hallway. You inched closer, staying hidden.

“I know there were two more books out here, Dean,” Sam argued.

“I don’t know what to tell you. Maybe she has ‘em?” Dean suggested.

“Why wouldn’t she just read out here, though?” Sam sighed, sounding frustrated.

You were leaning against the wall of the hallway, very near the opening. You couldn’t see them, but what they were talking about made your heart rate increase a bit. The last thing you wanted was for them to find the information you’d just read.

“Maybe she wanted to be alone after what Crowley said. I still don’t trust that demon,” Dean stated, sounding frustrated.

“He’s got to know something about her powers if he wants her as bad as he does,” Sam sighed.

“You think he knows more than we do?” Dean asked.

You heard Sam sigh again, “He might. He’s probably got access to information we don’t. I mean, it’s possible, at least, and we should just assume that he does.”

Dean groaned, “That’s gonna make protecting her harder if she wants to leave.” “Then we should be grateful she agreed to stay here,” Sam seemed to try to reassure his brother.

“You really think she’ll keep her word, even after what Crowley said?” Dean asked.

For a moment, you felt bad for a couple of reasons. They were trying to keep you safe after all, and here you were sneaking around, keeping information from them. At the same time, though, that statement from Crowley was still fresh in your mind.

You took a deep breath and then returned to your room, grabbing both books. You’d never been the kind of person to let others influence your decision about someone, and the last thing you were going to do now was let the King of Hell do that to you.

I can do this…

You held the books and joined the brothers in the library, giving them a friendly smile, “I borrowed these,” you said apologetically as you set them down near Sam. Then you sat on the other side of Dean.

They both watched you, “Uh, thanks…” Sam said, seeming slightly puzzled.

“Find anything useful?” Dean asked, raising an eyebrow.

You just shrugged your shoulders, “Not really,” you answered, then grabbed another book to thumb through. You weren’t really looking for anything, just trying to keep your mind occupied. It wasn’t a complete lie. At the moment, the information you'd found didn’t seem completely useful to you.

With your eyes on the book, you missed the brothers' silent conversation with just their expressions. You could see both of them in your peripherals, but you were only slightly paying attention. Sure, you had lots of questions that you wanted to ask them, but you were reserved, wondering just how they were viewing you. Were you just another case to them, or did they want to get to know you and let you get to know them?

“You okay?” Sam asked, sounding almost concerned.

You looked up from your book, “Probably as good as can be expected, given everything,” you told him, honestly.

“Is there anything we can do to make this easier on you?” he asked you, and to you, he sounded genuine.

For a moment, you pursed your lips, debating your question, then asked, “Am I just another case to the two of you?” You did your best to keep your tone as neutral as possible, but you were sure that a hint of hope and even some possible sadness had made it out.

The brothers shared another brief look, and you noticed Dean sigh, but it was Sam who spoke, “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you are our case. We really do want to keep you safe.”

Somehow you managed to just give them a small smile and then went back to your book.

I’m just a case… Those words reverberated in your mind as you read.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 12

Link to the series Master List

A/N: If you'd like to be tagged in future chapters, leave me a comment, and I'll make sure to tag you.

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floosies · 1 year ago

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Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas

steve harrington x poc!fem reader

summary: always the babysitter, but has the father figure found the mother figure to help put up with the nonsense?

warnings/tags: friends to lovers, fluff, cursing, (p.s. despite mentions of s4, eddie is still alive here)

a/n: stevie deserves the world and if a fic is how to do that then so be it. merry xmas to my favorite golden boy ❤🎄☃️

tagging: @reidsbtch for the beautiful moodboard 🤍

The holiday season in previous years for the Harrington's meant trips to Australia or Florida, anywhere else where there isn't midwestern cold air blowing around them. Steve would begrudginly string along, forgotten in a hotel room or given spending money and told to have fun in the resort.

It was 1990 now though, and at 23, he was spending this Christmas at his own place with his own traditions now. One of which was choosing a Christmas movie or show to watch as a group. Though his and Robin's place was considerably small they always made it work. This year however Home Alone had just come out and the plan had been to get tickets on a night everyone could make it.

Only scheduling was becoming hell, everyone had plans or work. The Wheelers were planning a family trip with the Byers, Eddie had gotten a new job with more hours so his uncle could have some more rest time, Robin and Vickie as well as Lucas and Max were planning family centered stuff, which left the always trustee Dustin to promise Steve he would go with him.

It was all he would talk about to her, how everyone else had basically ditched him and here he was again relying on Dustin to step in. She heard him intently as they shelved vhs tapes onto the tinsel topped displays, "how do you think I feel? This is my first Christmas away from home. Although I do enjoy being able to hear Wham singing and not my folks yelling over it." She quipped as he sighed, his eyes rolling, "at least your parents hung around for the holidays, I think mine are in Florida right now." She shrugged, "oh Steve lighten up tis the season and you have little Dustin to cheer you up." She further taunted him by throwing him one of the candy canes from their small tree they had on the check out counter.

She'd moved to Hawkins earlier in the year with the only goal of surviving on her own away from her previous situation. Within a month she was hired at the Family Video and met both Steve and Dustin in the middle of a heated debate about batteries and star wars. It was Dustin who vouched for her to join their friend group especially after seeing her homemade twilight zone pin and weird al cassette in her car. However he only ever regretted it when he got into trouble, because now he wouldn't hear the end of it from her and Steve.

Considering Dustin, he had come in before the store closed, ever thankful he ran into her first and not Steve. His face worried and guilt ridden, "what'd you do this time dusty? Am I going to have to talk to your mom again?" She joked as he mocked back, "that was so not cool, but no. It's about the movie night with Steve...I messed up." She was curious now but before she could ask what he meant, Steve had come up from the back of the store, "Henderson you better be ready to get all the snacks dude, we are going in heavy this year since-" catching a glimpse of Dustin's sour face he stopped his ramble, "do we need to talk to Higgins and your mom again?" Rolling his eyes he shook his head, "again totally uncalled for and embarrassing. You guys didn't need to be there" She quipped back "Then why are we on your emergency contact list?" He groaned, "whatever anyways no, that's not why i'm here. I'm sorry dude I royally screwed up my schedule -" "No. No. No! Not you too!" Steve cried out in frustration, "I literally had to beg Keith to give me Saturday night off." Dustin felt like shit about this, "I'll make it up to you I promise. It's just Suzie is coming down from Utah with the whole family and my mom has this whole dinner planned. I'll bring her by so you can meet her!"

She really felt bad for Steve now. He was genuinely hurt by now, it was written over his face. In the back of her mind she knew better but before she could regret it or overthink it, the words flew out of her mouth, "I'm free Saturday night if you still wanna go see that movie? I still haven't been to the theatre here so it would be cool to see the rest of Hawkins?" Steve looked at her about to decide whether to shoot down her kindness or ask if she's serious when Dustin speaks, "problem solved! Thanks so much! You guys'll have all the fun in the world. I got run." He started for the door with a 'merry holidays!' as he ran out and back into his mom's car.

Steve took his hands into his face with a loud sigh, "I was being serious Steve you literally said you did this every year, don't let the tradition fade out because those gremlins can't make it." He looked up at her, "well I guess it couldn't hurt." She smiled at him nudging his side with her shoulder, "see theres the holiday spirit. I'm going to start getting the store ready to close now though." He watched as she walked off to start turning off the window lights while thinking about how happy she seemed at his approval. He didn't want to read too much into but could it be that she might like him?

What was she thinking? Sure he was cute but from what everybody had mentioned so far, he was some sort of big shot around the area. He did say yes though, but it was probably a pity yes, still she could always say it was some christmas kindness is all. That's what she told herself for the rest of the week, because deep down she wasn't sure what to make of him entirely.

He spent the rest of the week pestering himself with the notation, the very idea that maybe he had missed something entirely or he was so full of himself that he was misinterpreting the whole thing. Robin was tired of hearing the same ramblings at work and as he dropped her off at home, "don't be a dingus, dingus. She literally said she wanted to go with you, she even brought up having zero plans." He shrugged as he pulled up to Robin's house, "I mean what if she just feels bad for me?" "Oh I think we all feel bad for you." She said opening the car door, he rolled his eyes, "ha ha laugh it up." Slamming the car door behind her she looked back through the car window, "it's gonna be fine Steve."

Saturday came by way too quickly for both of them. After multiple outfit changes and hair stylings they both found themselves waiting for the other. Well Steve found himself waiting in front of her apartment door with flowers in one hand and the other in his pocket where he was fidgeting with his car keys.

When the door opened and he saw her in a black mini skirt with sheer tights and a red knit sweater. She had clearly done something right based on the look he was giving her, "hey Steve those for me?" She asked pointing to the bouquet in his hand. He suddenly came to again, "yeah. Yes! I mean yeah, got these for you, I umm...I didn't want to come empty handed?" He was messing this up already, but in her head it was cute how nervous he seemed, She took them gently from his grasp, "well that was very kind of you. Now I feel bad I didn't get you a gift." She stepped back waving for him to enter. He shook his head, "no no, you tagging along to my misery parade is gift enough." This made her giggle, "c'mon it won't be that bad. Plus everyone is saying this movie is really good." He groaned out in frustration "yeah which was why it was so hard to get some damn tickets." She had placed the flowers on a coffee table behind her, "well lets get going then. Don't wanna miss those trailers." Before they could step out he stopped her, "think you need a coat first." Shit, there went the cool look she was going for, "oh yeah. One sec."

For two adults, they both seemed to come off like thirteen year olds, while they did enjoy the movie, they were sneaking glances at each other much than they were paying attention to kevin mcallister's boobytraps. Still they found themselves laughing at the mayhem the kid was making. She hadn't heard Steve ever really laugh like how he was laughing now and it made her smile, no wonder all the girls of Hawkins were into him. Which just made her that much more nervous. He had felt just as nervous since their hands had accidentally touched while trying to get popcorn at the same time.

The movie was great, as expected and they left the theatre in happier mood even arguing about which trap they could make while they walked around the town. It had happened gradually that their arms were linked together while he showed her around adding small stories here and there. Despite the cold and the dark of the night, it was still fairly early but Hawkins was small enough that all the nice scenery could be seen in a half hour or so. They headed back to his car when he suggested the idea of food, "we could get some burgers or a pizza." She perked up at the idea of spending more time with him, "I just got this new christmas record and a new tin of hot cocoa mix?" He smiled at the idea, "take out?" She nodded.

They got the food and headed to her place. The conservation continuing on about both the movie and the stories he'd told her. It'd been a while since he'd felt this comfortable with someone. Maybe it was the hot chocolate or her very decorated home, but he felt good around her. She felt the same way though, he hadn't made her feel the need to keep her guard up. Into their second mug of cocoa she quipped, "you know, you sure do know how to show a girl a good time." He let out a breathy laugh, "I sure hope so. I was worried I was going to bore you to death. By the way you looked great tonight." Her eyes widened in a playful manner, "is that so? Well so did you, that sweater is pretty cute." He smiled at her, his eyes linger onto hers.

The moment grew while the christmas music played in the background, her hand reaching for his as they sat on her couch. His hand also inched closer towards hers, in a soft voice she spoke up "so...christmas tradition saved?" Matching her tone Steve replied, "oh totally, in fact made even better." There it was again, the laugh he was growing to love more and more. They looked at each other a bit more, his thumb rubbing circles over her top of her hand, in the same hushed tone he mustered up the courage to ask, "am I reading this moment right?" She simply nodded, he leaned in closer towards her "got any mistletoe in here?" With a small shake of the head she spoke, "oh I don't think we need that now." Closing the gap their lips met into a tender kiss they didn't pull away from for a while.

#steve harrington #joe keery #stranger things #christmas fic #imagine #steve harrington fic #happy holidays!

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