#i NEED to go learn russian man

[donaviolet]

Hope u don't mind me joining in!

Wasnt expectung this but it kind of fits :0

@lu-the-artist @neon-draws-sometimes @ephemeral-darkness @epicdude365 @galaticrow546 and anyone else who wants to join!!

Let's all be in a TV show!!!

> Do this quiz

> do this picrew (Based on urself + quiz answers)

> tag ppl

> profit.

Tags (/nf ofc):

@mxlilly @circus-of-horror @yourleastfavoriteguyinthechair @microsoupmouse @the-firefly-jar-system @punkrockinchair @theplushiesystem @coded-pup @florasolarsystem + ANYONE else who wants to join

[heksen-sabbat]

nobody understand my suffering (spent so long gathering info about corkscrew rules that it grew a library in my brain which plays shtopor voicelines regardless of if i want it to)

[lizzy019]

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Nikto who struggles with telling you how he feels about you, so he uses signs like acts of service or quality time, always making sure you don't seem repulsed by his company.

Nikto who strives to make you feel happy even if it's at the expense of his body or mind. He'll go to great lengths to cook or clean for you, do things around your home to make sure everything's in working order just how you like it. (He probably spent a lot of time learning your lifestyle to figure this out.)

Nikto who genuinely loves how you react to things. He tells you something he didn't think was funny, and your sweet little laugh to his words makes the Russian's dull heart brighten just a bit. Some stupid cursing because he fucking stubbed his toe? He doesn't care if you laugh hysterically because of it, it doesn't matter anyway.

Nikto who finds it cute how whenever you accidentally injure yourself, it always ends up in either a pouty expression, or a frustrated glare. Call him weird for it, but he was so used to turning off his emotions that seeing you express them made him fascinated. It also made him a bit more open to expressing himself too, even if it was a bit... different.

Nikto who likes when you two take baths together. Your fingers gently cleaning his scarred back and shoulders. The scars on his face being tenderly cleaned out by you, and he repaid the favour by cleaning your torso too. It was always a conniption because Nikto loved ice cold baths, and you couldn't stand ice water.

Nikto who is so in love with you that he tries to get himself involved with your culture. He'll learn your favourite foods, how to cook them, how you celebrate things, simple words in your language, etc. It's a small way to show you his commitment to you without a ring or a promise.

Nikto who adored how you look, regardless of anything. You're too skinny? That's okay, he loves cooking for you. You're too fat? That's okay, he's a soldier for a reason. You're too short? That's okay, you're just as adorable. You're too tall? That's okay, better hugs.

Nikto who probably worships the fucking ground you walk on. You're literally sent from the heavens, a gift made just for him and he's eternally grateful for your presence, your support and love.

Nikto who definitely gropes you randomly, lightly squeezing any part of your flesh and touching the soft skin with great adoration. Who cares if you have body acne, keratosis pilaris, scarring, eczema, whatever else? You're just so gorgeous to him, he can't get enough! He's a simple man with simple needs.

@zoloftwithdrawalnausea @fishsinsareacknowledged :)) it's all fluff but i think it's sweet

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[hahaifolded]

141 x POC!GN Intelligence Operative - Say the Word Author's Notes: I have no clue how the military works or even how a base looks like and not gonna lie I don’t respect it enough to do research. Warnings: MDNI, Racism

Ghost really wished he was a better man. Because a better man would have thanked you for your gift instead of ridicule you for it. A better man would have dropped everything to be at your side. A better man would have chosen you over duty. 

But alas Ghost is just a ghost. A husk of a man. A monster. 

But if there’s one silver lining here is that only a monster can recognize another monster and Ghost knew that look in Nikto’s eyes — it’s the same one he sees everyday in the mirror. Ghost couldn’t protect you from himself but that doesn’t mean he won’t try to protect you from this new monster. 

So as you inch your face closer to Nikto’s mask to hear him, Ghost does not hesitate to rip you from the Russian’s jaws. 

“Nikto!” he barks. Nikto slowly turns, almost annoyed by the sudden intrusion while you fly back, feeling ashamed for… talking. When this is all over, Ghost will rid you of this guilt. He promises. 

“You should stand next to me. Will make it easier when I introduce you to the rookies,” Ghost explains. The two lieutenants were tasked in going over basic combat skills with the rookies. 

(And you were here because you’ve been wanting to dust off your own skills and after you heard Nikto was joining Ghost this time around, you felt more comfortable in joining.)

Nikto begrudgingly makes his way over to Ghost, leaving you alone on the mats. And just on cue, the rookies walk into the training room. They surround you with sadly, your “favorites” opting to stand at both of your sides. 

Ghost quickly introduces Nikto and splits the room in half. One half would work with Nikto while the other with him. Ghost pretends not notice the “help me” look your shot at Nikto when you got stuck with him. That was his imagination… that had to be in his head. 

Ignoring the tightness in his chest, Ghost walks up to his group and quickly goes over today’s lesson plan: submission, how to take down your opponent without any weapons. Easy and just the perfect way to get under you… for professional reasons, of course. After calling you as his partner, which your eyes nearly popped out of your head when he said so, he asks the rest to pair up and take a spot on the mats. 

However, before the group split, one of the rookies that especially loved to give you a hard time, spoke up. 

“Lieutenant, quick question?” 

“Make it quick,” Ghost snaps. You are literally about to throw him to the ground. He needs this rookie to shut up. 

“Does the pencil pusher really need to be here? They’re literally just taking space,” he asks. The rookie shoots you a taunting smile. 

You couldn’t believe it. You felt your body go hot.

“Say that one more time,” you spit back. You got in his face. Fuck professionalism. 

And it seemed like the rookie agreed as he got in your face as well. “Learn your fucking place,” he hisses. “You’re just a means to check off a box. No one actually wants you here so why don’t you go back to your office and fuck off, —!” Your ears start ringing at that last word. He towers over you and stares straight into your eyes. Pure hatred is in his eyes. 

You haven’t felt this level of anger in so long. Fuck this guy. Fuck this job. Fuck the 141. Fuck the military. Fuck everyone. You pull your arm back ready to swing when…

Nikto flies past you, throwing the rookie to the ground. He starts to wail on the dumb fuck. The rookie’s little posse tries to pull Nikto off but it’s no use— Nikto pushes them off like nothing. You remain still and watch the scene before you. 

And you’re not the only one. Ghost is in utter shock. In the matter of seconds, Ghost was cockblocked, you were disrespected, and a rookie was getting his face caved in and Ghost didn’t do anything. He just watched. Ghost is a man of action. But he just couldn’t at this moment. Why?

“Lieutenant!” one of the rookies shriek. That finally breaks Ghost of his trance. He rushes over to Nikto and pries the man off the rookie. The fellow lieutenant fights back. However before Ghost can really get into it with the Russian, your voice is heard. 

“Nikto,” you say. No emotion, just a statement. You look at the two and just shake your head. Nikto stops and moves towards you. He cradles your face and gently buds his head into yours. He grabs your hand and begins to walk out the training room with you when he turns around. 

He stares daggers in Ghost’s face and hisses.

“Ask yourself this lieutenant! Why did he feel comfortable enough to disrespect your teammate in front of your face?” 

And with that he leaves with you, leaving Ghost with the question he didn't know the answer to.

Word Count: 838

More Thoughts - Next Thought

[celestialprincesse]

I’m not sure if you’ll write for Nikto or maybe even angst? Need to feel something, ignore if you’re not comfortable!

I was thinking neighbor!Nikto x civilian hyper fem!reader she just wants to get close to this masked, mean older man but he doesn’t want to hurt this sweet lil thing that’s always so loving towards him and the thought is scaring them away because of the way he looks TERRIFIES the poor man :(

Always down for when you write König. Love your lil wrinkly brain and all its ideas and words. Mwuah! Smooch!

how have I never written him before omg? I need to write more Nik & König💖 I cannot write angst for shit but pls enjoy n e ways 💕

You're on his doorstep again. Another plate too. Nikto knows, somewhere in the back of his mind, that he should try and ignore you - maybe pretend that no one's home, not that he'd really be able to get that by you when his car is parked in the driveway and the lights are on. With a sigh, the front door is opened, and you're faced with the unmoving presence of your new neighbour, a balaclava covering most of his face, a black hoodie pulled on over top just for good measure.

"You are here again." He observes flatly, unable to contain the way his eyes widen as you bounce from foot to foot in your frilly little skirt. "I bought sharlotka!" You chirp, having practised the Russian pronunciation as you baked the cake, and on the short walk over to his home. Nikto observes the cake with a scrutinising eye before hesitantly inviting you into his home. Shame burns his features when he can't help but to stare at your ass as you make your way inside. "Yes. I can see that."

You refuse to let his indifferent tone deter you as you place the plate down on his table, before just sort of lingering awkwardly in his kitchen, holding the plate of cake out to him like an offering. "I will bring you back the plate tomorrow." Is his obvious dismissal, which has you scurrying back to his front door, waving a clearly disappointed goodbye.

You're not so easy to get rid of.

The next time you see him is in the grocery store, an ideal location for your flawless plan to unfold. Kind of flawless. Not really very well thought out but you're desperate to win his attention. If that means baking so many Russian desserts that they're up to your ears, or conveniently cornering him in the store, that's what you'll do. "I'm so sorry!" The sound of your squeak rings in Nikto's ears as he turns around with lightning speed to steady your shoulders. You like the way his hands envelop your entire pink-clad biceps as he frowns down at you. "Hello, again." The way your ears perk up at his thickly accented voice doesn't go missed by Nikto, and he allows himself to wish, just for a moment, that he could have you as his. He wonders what it would be like to shop for groceries with you, to go home and stock the fridge. He wonders whether you'd let him bend you over the kitchen countertop or fuck you in nothing but the frilly pink apron he's seen you wear through your kitchen window. You're far too precious for that. Far too pretty for a man like him. So why do you keep coming back, stupid girl.

"I made stroganoff." You chirp, shooting him your best puppy eyes, trying to find a chip in the armour that must be there somewhere. He is, after all, just a man. "That is nice." He grunts, handing you back your basket, taking a step back. Maybe if he stays away from you physically, his mind will follow suit. "I was wondering if you'd like to come over for dinner. With me."

God, he'd love to come for dinner with you. He'd like to help set the table, and eat a hearty meal prepared by someone who cares for him enough to learn to cook the meals he ate as a child. He'd love to spend the evening with you, bring you a nice bottle of wine and wrap his arms around your waist as you tidy up, press kisses down the back of your neck and smell your sweet perfume up close.

"I am busy tonight."

[moonpascaltoo]

Fic Recs (steve harrington)

just some of my favorite one-shots or series i’ve read on ao3 and few from tumblr. all works ranging from 1.5k to 30k+ i believe. 18+ readers!

some have a tumblr that i tagged, but others i couldn’t find . i am doing this on mobile which is a bit difficult haha! i read these all (except 2) on ao3 so the links will be ao3. i know some are here on tumblr but i didn’t realize till after reading and making this! <3

steve harrington

come home by @stevie-petey <3💕

-"come home to me, okay?"

"always," steve promises

in between saving will, then hawkins, then somehow the world, you fall in love with steve harrington.

(a stranger things rewrite).

dancing with our hands tied by @andvys

-You and Steve have never seen eye to eye, and it never changed, not even when you were pulled into a world of monsters and risked your life to save him. But tension had always been between you both, something that neither of you ever wanted to admit -- but how much longer can you take it when the pull between you gets stronger and stronger each second you spend by each others side?

paint me red by eddiemunsons ao3

-You're one of Vickie's best friends. Her girlfriend, Robin, is in need of a distraction for her best friend, Steve Harrington, who you vaguely remember from school. Which is where you come in.

i’m your idiot by thebestandworstdayofjune ao3 @thebestandworstdayofjune

-Steve Harrington has a way of worming himself into your heart, and social situations you had done your best to exclude him from.

small hands, big heart by finalgirlharrington ao3 @sexybabystevie

-Steve Harrington has a massive crush on you, but his recent lack of luck in the romantic sense has him stuck on how to make a move. Plus, something about you makes him nervous in a way he's never been – in a way he likes. His simplest solution? Flirting via the old 'comparing hand sizes' method.

promise by Harley_Honey_Quinn ao3

-Reader learns about Steve's feelings thanks to some Russian truth serum.

kiss me by @corrodedseraphine

-Your friend is desperately trying to find a person who will give him something more. Wanting to feel what it's like to be loved again and after many failed dates he gets the idea that it's time to go back to King Steve's famous tactics. Telling him that it's not the best idea gets you involved in a deal where you have to help him get another girl. Will helping the boy you're in love with turn out to be a good idea? Probably not.

every rose has its thorn by @corrodedseraphine

-Christmas is coming to Hawkins. It is a time of joy and forgiveness. It turns out that your sister's best friend is looking for a new place to live, and you happen to have a spare room in the apartment. It wouldn't be a problem if that friend wasn't Steve Harrington. A man whom the more you try to avoid even more often comes back like a boomerang.

hearts on the telephone line by t_lostinworlds ao3 @t-lostinworlds

-You thought Steve was okay dealing with a long-distance relationship after you moved for an exciting internship in New York. But you were proven so wrong when your boyfriend finally poured his feelings over the phone. Because distance wasn't making his heart grow fonder, it was breaking it.

competitively stupid by t_lostinworlds ao3 @t-lostinworlds

-It was stupid, jumping off a cliff just to prove that you were better than Steve fucking Harrington. But you were competitive. You were not losing to him. But you know what was stupider? For it to take a near-death situation for you both to confess what you truly feel for each other.

perfect blend by Your_Writer ao3

-No one likes their summer job. Working at a coffee shop was sticky, exhausting, and overall boring. In fact, the highlight of your day was the charming, gentle eyed sailor scooping USS Butterscotch just across the way.

the things we don’t say by rdrickheffley ao3

-Steve Harrington once was the bane of Y/n's existence. He had always been an arrogant asshole and a terrible kisser. She never understood how others fell for the boy's eye-roll worthy charm. Now it seems like he will do anything to prove her wrong about anything.

next time? by rdrickheffley ao3

-Three instances where Steve and reader find themselves in intimate situations.

candyfloss and confessions by ACourtofSnakesandStars ao3

-You’ve been in love with Steve Harrington for years, like every cliche come to life. You’ve battled monsters, found friends within kids with superpowers, and you even managed to graduate. Yet the one thing you’ve never been able to do, is tell Steve how you feel. But maybe you don’t need to wait any longer.

a night to remember by RaeWrites94 ao3

-Steve has to attend his 10 year high school reunion and somehow manages to convince you to go as his date and his fake girlfriend. You've had feelings for him for a long time, but figure, why not? You could probably survive an evening of pretending he liked you back and come out unscathed. Right?

with bated breath by brianmay ao3

-Rumors fly after you attend Steve Harrington’s party one weekend in September. Thinking they were his doing, you do everything in your power to avoid him, which proves easier said than done.

cross my heart (and hope to die) by @talesofesther

-Every time Steve gets hurt, you're there to help pick up the pieces; you just weren't expecting him to fall for you in the process.

tales of a love between the lines by @talesofesther

-Sometimes the thing we want most is right in front of us, and Steve might be just that for you; all you have to do is see what he’s been showing you for a long time.

love is easy by seidenbros ao3

-The day you wrote I love you on a post-it note before you'd said the words out loud, and it's the best note Steve ever got.

everything means nothing if i can’t have you by iridescentpetrichor ao3

-Steve and Y/N go on a double date to impress the other one, but it's only so long until the tension between the two breaks.

you’re not by frostandflames ao3 @frostandflamesfanfic

-The year is 1985, you're on a school field trip to cheer on Hawkins High at the championship game before spring break. When the game doesn't pan out as expected, you're even more surprised to discover the one and only Steve Harrington in only his underwear at your hotel room after being locked out by his teammates. What happens when the two of you have a little heart to heart?

last christmas by frostandflames ao3 @frostandflamesfanfic

-You and Steve had always been childhood friends-and remained that way. As Steve ping-pongs around in his relationship status, you have a hard time keeping your feelings to himself as Nancy surrounds his entire world. What Steve doesn't know is his relationship to Nancy may end your own with Steve.

the scoundrel and the princess by @mrshipsmcgee

-after an awkward run in with Tommy Hagan, Steve Harrington is invited to an awful party where he meets a beautiful stranger.

cling by aloevera

-For as long as you could remember, you and Steve have been close. What others see as clingy, Steve sees as comforting, right? Or, you fell in love with your best friend and suddenly, everything is too much.

[collaredsoldat]

Winter Soldier Post!HYDRA Headcannons

warnings: Bucky is still the Winter Soldier | PTSD | Post abuse (physical, psychological) | Past SA and mentions of treatment for it | Light descriptions of injuries/wounds | Medical stuff

a/n: I was writing something earlier and it made me want to write this. It's just a random collection of headcannons I have. You bring him home after he escapes HYDRA. You have your hands full. Unedited.

Following the events of the movies, let's pretend you bring Bucky home after CATWS. He's still the soldier. He's still Soldat. And Soldat doesn't speak. In fact he is silent for days. Uttering nothing, not a peep.

Soldat is silent, watchful, wary. He doesn't like being approached too quick. He stays in corners. He stays in small spaces. Being too exposed now makes him feel anxious. He reacts with aggression if he is anxious.

You learn all this.

He also becomes visibly irritated when he feels confused and stressed, which is pretty much constantly.

He needs you to order him around, which sounds harsh but the sudden change of environment and treatment is really confusing for him. He is too fresh from HYDRA to immediately just heal. That's now how it works. This kind of trauma doesn't just go away. This man is so severely mistreated, you aren't even sure where to start.

Simple things like telling him to shower or sleep. Otherwise he stays up for days and refuses to do anything. Free will is such a foreign concept to him.

Re-feeding and giving him nutrients and fluids is a nightmare. Luckily, you had a medic friend who could look at him without the involvement of the government since he was in hiding for now. You got all the supplies you needed, but it was still a hassle. His options were very limited when it came to food. Oatmeal, mashed potatoes, applesauce, things like that. He could barely stomach anything more solid than that.

He sits still for the IVs, but sometimes he doesn't and he puts up a struggle, assuming it is some kind of drug to manipulate him. You just have to stay close and talk to him so he pays more attention to you than what your friend is doing.

He got sick a lot. You had to be careful about that. Too much food made him sick, his body wasn't used to it.

He also was having difficulty remembering you and where he was, the fact that he wasn't undergoing constant brainwashing made all the chemicals go haywire. It made his moods unpredictable. He had aggressive bouts, though he never harmed you badly, he would grab you if you got too close out of instinct and fear.

He often broke down and during these times it was a gamble whether or not he'd let you around him. He felt so pathetic and small and horrible, confused and unsure for the first time in decades. He was used to being mindless besides the orders barked at him. Simple, easy, all he had to do was listen.

But now, things were different. He was no longer being kept in a shitty cell or in an icebox. He wasn't tortured daily, he wasn't taken into rooms where agents were greedy with him. He wasn't hurt. And...it confused him even more.

You notice he sits strange when he does. He doesn't like to sit for long. He says it hurts. He prefers to stand. You don't understand until later, and you do your best to help ease his pain.

He didn't understand why you didn't hurt him. Why you didn't hit him. Sometimes he hit himself when he felt like he deserved it, each time he felt a pit in his stomach when he saw the disapproving look in your eye and listened to the scold that came after. You were gentle...but firm. He could not hurt himself. That made him bad. Disobedient. Disobedient soldiers are punished. It was a cruel cycle that ran in his mind. You had to be the one to stop it.

When he did speak, it was simple Russian phrases. Yes, no, he addressed you as handler, his responses were monotone and recited. He had been trained not to speak. That wasn't what he was supposed to do with his mou-

Enough. The memories are invading again.

You could tell when he zoned out into his episodes, his eyes became glossy and he seemed to become a zombie. You sat him down somewhere quiet and stayed with him. Sometimes he didn't want to be touched, sometimes he let you. But you had to be careful, you never wanted him to be uncomfortable or make things worse.

It was a tender thing. But it was something you were more than happy doing.

After a few weeks he seeks you out more often. He stays close by, he even sits close to you or tries to get your attention. He's still quiet, but he speaks more now. Even in english, which you find a relief. By you you've learned the short Russian phrases he spoke, but it was good he spoke english too.

He starts to hang closer to you, he stays out of his 'hiding spots' in your home and stays around you more often. He sits on the couch beside you, starting to seek you out. It's a positive sign he's growing more comfortable.

He doesn't like being alone for very long. If you have a job, it might be hard for him. You try to get one where you can work from home, otherwise he is very anxious and clingy when you come home from your shift.

The spare bedroom is his, but he often finds himself migrating to your bedroom through the night. He needs your presence, he needs to know he's not alone. The silence is deafening, and knowing your body is beside him is comforting when he sleeps.

Speaking of, he starts off on the floor. It's a little heartbreaking, he sees the bed as a test, an awkward thing he doesn't want to sleep in. So he starts on the floor, then you move the mattress off the bed to the floor, along with some pillows and blankets. That seemed to help condition him to an actual bed before he eventually sleeps in yours with you.

You know recovery and his healing is going to be a long, bumpy road, but you are just happy he sees you as protection and comfort, and his trust is slowly building with you.

Thanks for reading.

Dividers by @/strangergraphics | Images from Pinterest

[angeldreamsoffanfic]

“So how did you know?”

“Know what?”

“Y’know, how did you know.”

“Dingus, I’m gonna need you to spell it out for me here, the Russians did a number on how many of my braincells are actually working.”

“How did you know that you liked girls?”

Robin Buckley immediately pushed herself up so she was resting on her elbows, head tilted to catch Steve Harrington’s eyes in the low light of their hospital room.

They weren’t originally even going to go to the hospital, if Robin was being honest. They had just wanted to slip away back to their respective homes, but then Melissa and Richard Buckley caught wind that Robin was hurt. Then the both of them realized that Steve’s parents (if Robin has to use that term to describe them) had less than zero intention of sending anyone to pick up Steve.

Then EMS made the light suggestion of both of them probably needing to go to Hawkins General Hospital… and well, while Melissa and Richard did tend to lead toward more natural remedies… one couldn’t fix a concussion or a drugging with an unknown substance with essential oils and hope.

“Robbie? Did you OD over there?” Steve had himself up on his elbows, easily mimicking Robin. That’s the thing that makes the inside of Robin ache, that he’s so like her. She knows that she’s an only child, knows that, but sometimes Steve’ll just… do something and it makes her question it. Makes her wonder how she spent so long without him, without another brain and two legs and arms and so much hair. “Robbie?”

“No, I am still alive.” Robin slowly spoke, before she let out a soft sigh. “Why do you ask?”

“Like-” Steve huffed as he shook his head from side to side, before he used the one hand that was free from the pulse monitor and saline drip to card through his hair. It’s sleep ruffled, and if he uses product (Robin is sure he does), it’s for sure gone. Steve looks up though, and his eyes are so earnest that it causes something to hurt inside of Robin. “never mind just ignore- fuck - just ignore me.”

“I couldn’t ignore you if I tried, you idiot.” Robin let out a huff, and she winced as the PICC line in her arm shifted as tilted to be able to fully face Steve on her side. “But I just, dingus, this is out of left field for even you.”

“How so?”

“Did you even know that, that people like me even existed until a couple of hours ago?” Robin kept her voice soft, especially as Steve huffed out an indignant sounding sigh. Robin sighs though, and then she cards her own hand through her hair, and forges onward. “I think I’ve just… always known.”

“Always?”

“Yeah like-” Robin shrugged, a careful movement of her shoulders. “When I was like, eight? My uh, parents sent me to this camp thing- like summer camp kind of like what Dustin went to? But with, y’know, with the swimming and archery and dude I was fucking awful at it.” Steve let out a soft and watery laugh at Robin’s rambling, and that gave Robin enough power to continue. “But we uh, had these like songs we had to learn? And there was this uh, girl counselor there that had to teach me because you know, that was her job.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, and uh. She couldn’t have been older than I am now but man…” Robin let out a slow whistle, and allowed herself to fully melt into the hospital cot she’s laid up on. “All I could think was that I just wanted to be with her. Like not even kissing because I thought kissing was gross then, still do now kinda but anyway- I wanted to like, hold her hand and shit. Do the cheesy stuff I’d seen in the movies, y’know?”

Steve huffed out his own laugh, and he tilted his head to lean against his pillows instead of facing Robin. Robin watched though, quiet for once, as Steve swallowed once and then twice- before he cleared his throat.

“I knew it existed before you.”

“What?”

“It.”

“Dingus-”

“Girls liking girls.” Steve’s voice is barely above a whisper, even as Robin can hear him gulp in a lungful of air. “And boys liking boys.”

“You did?” Robin kept her voice quiet, gentle, as coaxing as she could- especially when she could see Steve’s throat bob. “Dingus?”

“I…” Steve doesn’t continue, and that’s enough.

Enough to Robin that she pushed herself up, and ignored the pain that ricocheted down her spine like needles. Ignored Steve’s hurried ‘what are-’, as she stumbled out of her hospital bed and right to Steve’s. She made sure to drag her IV pole and the monitor with her, situating it as best as she could next to Steve’s. Robin huffed quietly as the pain trickled down her spine, and she couldn’t help but smile as Steve curled his hand carefully around her wrist and tugged.

Robin got comfortable, let Steve fret over her as best as he could, his fingers only ever-so slightly trembling as he made sure that the line in her arm wasn’t kinked up. They were pressed close, side to side and hip to hip, and Robin tilted her head down until it was rested on Steve’s shoulder.

“Wanna keep going, Stevie?”

“No.”

“But?”

“I…” Steve huffed again, a small indignant noise that Robin mimicked.

They sat like that then, just the two of them for a moment, before Steve continued slowly.

“I’ve never, told anyone this- like I’ve told Tommy H. so much shit about me - but this is… Robin this is different.” Steve speaks in a hurried and stilted way, like he’s stringing together bits and pieces of sentences, and it shouldn’t work.

But it does because he’s Steve and she’s Robin.

And truthfully, Robin likes that. That they’re Steve and Robin. SteveandRobin. RobinandSteve. Likes that the two of them are so in tune that even her own mother didn’t want to separate them.

That had to mean something in the end, didn’t it?

“Tell me, whatever… whenever.” Robin murmured as she turned her head so she could press a soft kiss to Steve’s shoulder. The hospital gown is thin enough she can feel the heat of his skin from up under it, and that’s grounding. Grounding even as Steve drew in a shaky breath, audibly swallowing again. “Whenever you’re ready, I’m here.”

“I didn’t uh, notice Tammy in Ms. Click’s class or uh, you for a reason.” Steve slowly spoke, eyes wet, and Robin can hear his sniffle as he tried to reign his emotions back. “Ms. Click made him sit uh, right by her desk at the front of the room.”

And oh.

Oh.

If that doesn’t immediately settle something that just usually writhes around in Robin’s chest.

“Him?” Robin is gentle, gentler than she thinks she’s ever been.

“Uh, yeah… Eddie Munson?” Steve huffed out an almost dry laugh, the only thing that he does that ever remotely reminds her of his time as his high school “King Steve” persona. “He uh, got this bat tattoo right before that year’s Thanksgiving break and all I could do was just… gawk at him.”

“And then what?” Robin knew she was pushing, searching for information, but she can’t help it. Not when Steve is right next to her, hip to hip and thigh to thigh. Not when he’s like her. In all the ways that matter.

“I went home and screamed into my pillow.”

Robin immediately smacked Steve’s thigh with the knuckles of her left hand- grinning in triumph when Steve let out a squawk of laughter.

“Eddie Munson?”

“What about him?”

“He’s… he’s a total dud!”

“No he’s not!”

“He stepped in my mashed potatoes once! That is totally total dud material!”

“No way!”

“He wants to be like, like a metal singer!”

“He has a band! Dreams!”

“Do you even know if he can hold a tune?”

“Well, no-”

“Total. Dud.”

Robin grinned wide as Steve launched into a very quick defense about Eddie, and she decides then and there that Steve and her? They’ll be just fine.

Especially if she can get Eddie to come into Steve and her’s orbit just a bit, to see if the crush is still there.

Because while Robin may not have all of the gay knowledge in the world, there is one thing for a complete certainty that she knows.

The black hanky that Eddie kept in his pocket?

Well…

Robin chuffed to herself, before she tilted so she could lay on her side- nose tucked into the place where Steve’s neck and shoulder met.

Right before she falls asleep though, Robin does a very important thing on a mental whiteboard.

You Rule: 1

You Suck: 0

hope you all enjoyed! truthfully think this is one of my favorite things i have written. love platonic stobin. <3

[d34dg1rl5]

Saviour

Opening your eyes you take in your surroundings. You're in Ormond. Quickly you decide to look for a totem since you're running Inner Strength.

After some while of running sround you finally find a totem in the corner of the killer shack. But you weren't alone. Mikaela also just arrived at the shack and started to work on the totem, she probably runs a Boon perk.

"Uhm, Mikaela... Could I maybe have this totem? I have Inner Strength, I could-" She glances at you and grunts. "Why don't you go find another totem?" You tilt your head. She never has been so mean, but maybe she had a bad day. You nod. "Yeah true..." You sigh and decide to work on a gen for now, you're sure you'll find another totem somewhere else on the map.

Just as you work on the gen, Jake rushes towards your gen - he's injured. Quickly you get up and try to heal him, but he backs away. "Don't touch me, I don't need your help!" You raise an eyebrow. "But. You're injured?" He starts to work on the gen and continues to groan in pain. You decide to also continue working on the machine. "Jake, I really hate to bug you, but you really should-" "Shut the fuck up and leave me alone!"

Quietly you let go of the issue and shake your head. What's up with him? Did he also have a bad day? A bad trial? More than one bad trial? Well, you didn't want to push any further... The gen is repaired and Jake takes off, leaving you behind, confused and thinking.

After some time you see a totem behind some crates and you quickly destroy it, unlocking Inner Strength. Well, at least something positive!

After some while the killer had downed it's first victim - Jake. You didn't feel to bad... He didn't want to get healed after all! Soon after Jake got hooked another scream erupted from within Ormond. Mikaela also met her demise. She also got hooked. You didn't meet the fourth survivor yet. Let's just hope they didn't have a bad day aswell...

Just as you were thinking that you run into said survivor. It was David. With a thud you fell on your butt. "Oh David! I'm sorry, I didn't see you-" "Quit the bullshit! Everybody knows you're working with the killer!" Your eyes went wide. "What? What are you talking about? I never worked together with any killer!" How could he say that?? What did he mean by 'everyone'??

He pushed you out of the way and makes his way over to the hooked survivors. You look after him as you could feel hot tears starting to run down your cheeks. "What the fuck..."

You trot over the map. Mikaela and Jake had been saved a while ago but you had lost your fighting spirit for this trial already. And you didn't meet the killer yet.

Let's analyze this! You were friends with some of the nicer killers like Susie, Rin, Anna, Carmina, Trickster and even Danny.

Susie is a nice girl, always listening to you and talking to you about all kinds of stuff. Like the rest of the Legion she is always down for the weirdest shenanigans.

Anna is a big woman, her hugs are almost bone crushing yet she always takes care of you outside of the trials telling you different russian fairy tales.

Even though you were friends with Rin, she is more reserved than Susie or Anna. You love to style her hair and learn more about japanese culture. But most of the time she rather wants to be alone than have any company. In all honesty she is ashamed of how she looks. Poor girl...

Carmina is a nice company. Sometimes you chill in her realm, watching her feeding the crows and paint new pictures. One time she surprised you with a picture of you she drew. You liked it alot and she was happy, letting out a proud croak.

Trickster. A hard case. Yes, you were some kind of friends with him. He LOVES talking about himself, his incredible shows, his murders and everything involving him in general. This man is in love with himself and sometimes it's annoying as fuck but you stick around because you're the only survivor he still kind of tolerates.

And the last person - Danny. Infamously known as Ghostface. He is really something. A deadly and quiet stalker, always there when you need him. He also is narcissistic but not as much as Trickster. He likes to talk about the murders he commited when he wasn't in the entitys world. You couldn't see his face but everytime he talked about this topic you could swear he has a big ass smile plastered on his face. And to admit this you kind of have a weakness for the masked stalker.

Looking around you decide to go for the gen in Ormond. Someone has already started to work on it but the killer has destroyed it. Just as you sit down Mikaela comes running towards you and groans in pain. "Heal me!" You get up and look at her. "You could ask me nicely instead..." Not waiting for her answer you still start to patch her up as she backs away and pushes you back, running out of the house.

You gasp as you fall against a hard thing. Immediately an arm wraps around your neck. "Hey doll... What's up? Didn't see you all trial, it was about time, don't you say?" Danny. Of course. Why didn't you notice that sooner...

"Please hook me. I want this trial to be over." He huffs. "You're no fun." He removes his arm and puts a hand onto his hip, making him look a little bit like a Karen. "Hm... I'll get back to you."

After some time Danny downed Jake, Mikaela and David, having them laying on the floor. You were still working on the gen in Ormond, not able to concetrate. The gen had blown up many times even though you were REALLY trying to make it work. Maybe todays events just got to your head...

Danny comes back and grabs your arm. Without questioning him you follow and see your fellow survivors laying on the ground, whincing in pain losing a lot of blood. David looks up to you. "(Y/n)! Heal- I fucking knew it... You're working with the killer! I fucking knew it!!" Mikaela and Jake look at you with looks of disapproval, annoyance and hate. All mixed feelings, but not good ones.

Danny grins and kneels down in front of David. "Heh.. I'll be right back." He brings Jake to the hook and then Mikaela. They get sacrificed immediately. Like promised, Danny comes back. You were still standing there, not knowing what to do. You WANTED to heal David, but after him being an asshole and just treating you like shit you were starting to question things.

Danny chuckles and hands you his knife. "Now (Y/n)... Why don't you show David what you think about his mean mean behaviour earlier? I think he needs to be punished..." He puts his head on your shoulder. "C'mon... Make me proud..."

You look at Danny and grab the knife tightly in your hand kneeling down in front of David. "David...", you start. David huffs. "You're a fucking traitor... You're the reason we always lose when we're teamed up with you... Sometimes I wish you were fucking dead. Forever."

Those words hurt. Like someone plunging multiple needles in your heart. David was always a guy who loved to brag about his fights but he was there when needed in trials. But now. You despise him. You really do.

You look at the knife in your hand, knuckles white from gripping the knife so hard. David grins. "You're weak... I knew you-" Before the brit could finish his sentence you plunged the knife in his neck, making him bleed even more. He gurgles for a few seconds before closing his eyes. Now he was really dead. Not sacrificed and not mori'd... At least not by a killer.

You slowly get up and look at your now bloody hands. From behind you you could hear slow claps. Slow claps. Just like a villain in a superhero movie. You turn around.

"Damn... I really didn't think you would be able to do that... Yet you proofed me wrong. Interesting..." He smiled and takes the knife from you, cleaning it from Davids blood. Danny sighs. "Saw how they treated you earlier... I couldn't let that go 'unseen'." He sits down on one of the benches, manspreading. Quickly he pats his thigh. Not even knowing what you're doing you sit down on his thigh and let your head fall against his shoulder.

"I didn't even see you.." Danny nods. "Of course. I am Ghostface, I am a master at staying hidden." He sighs and puts his hand on your head soothingly caressing your hair.

"I didn't think survivors could be like this... Y'all are supposed to stick together when a killer is trying to. Well kill you." You sigh audibly. "I was confused and then I thought they were referring to my friendships with some of the killers including you... I didn't even know you were the killer until Mikaela pushed me into you."

"Yeah, what a move."

The wind is blowing and you shiver. Danny notices this and holds you closer to him. "Cold, are we?" He move his free hand to his mask and. Removes it?! You have never seen Danny without his mask and he looks really pretty... You look at him.

"You must trust me a lot to remove your mask..." He smiles a cheeky smile. "Think whatever you want about this. You should get the hatch as a little reward. For killing David and basically doing the dirty work for me." You just nod and get off his thigh. He grabs his mask but isn't putting it on just yet.

After a while of looking for the hatch you finally find it in the killer shack. "I'll see you around. If you want it or not."

With that he pushes you into the hatch grinning. Just before you get engulfed in the black fog, you see him putting his mask back on.

What will the others think?

[xclowniex]

I am very disappointed in the Try Guys and especially Zach for their livestream.

I want to preface this by saying that I have no issue with raising money for aid for Gaza. Gaza needs more aid. What i have issue with is Zach's speech he made at the start + a few other things.

He said "on a personal note, I am a jewish man, I wanna tell you crucially, it is not anti-Semitic to critize the actions of the Israeli government or to stand up for the Palestinian people i was raised learning the dangerous history of how othering and dehumanization can lead to persecution and genocide. Its not something I will allow and my identity to be weaponized to harm others and so today we stand proudly in solidarity with the people of Palestine"

Whilst i agree with half of his statement, it all still rubs me the wrong way.

I agree with the fact that genuine criticism of the Israeli government is not antisemitic and I also actively encourage genuine criticism. I myself have a lot of criticism about the current Israeli government.

The but about that half which rubs me the wrong way, is the failure to acknowledge that there are those which do not give genuine criticism and are genuinely antisemitic and hide their antisemitism behind the mask of critiquing the Israeli government. And its not like its a small amount of people do that or that those who participated in the live stream just were not antisemitic as they were.

Which also sucks as they said they were moderating the chat yet let multiple antisemitic comments stay up.

Another thing which I completely disagree with is Zach saying "Its not something I will allow and my identity to be weaponized to harm others"

I also do not like the whole "not in our name" or "I don't like my identity being weaponized to harm others" as like…. not all jews are Israeli and not all Israeli folk are jewish. Like there is a difference of nationality between Israeli jews and diaspora jews. Israel being at war is not weaponizing the jewish identity. You wouldn't say what Russia is doing is weaponizing the Russian identity for diaspora Russians, or what the Chinese Government is doing to the Uyghur people is weaponizing the Chinese identity for diaspora Chinese folk. Why is Israel's actions different?

Another issue I had is with the creators who are part of the creators for Palestine.

Hasan "antisemite" Piker is part of it. To sum his bad things up, he has called all jews white, got mad at and threw a tantrum at a trans person for telling him not to speak over trans people about trans issues, and is a rape apologist and said that rape is only dome by rich white men to rich white women so people don't need to worry about rape.

Not to mention Stanzi also was apart of it too. Stanzi made this tweet:

Which is very fucked. Imagine saying that those going through war and needing aid and help are just "yapping" and that they now must focus on Palestine instead of, ya know, not dying????

Overall i am very disappointed in the try guys and wish they did better with their live stream.

[m3talmunson]

Steve Harrington is incredibly smart. It's not his fault nobody believes him. Or, well, maybe it is.

Steve used to be his parents pride and joy, everyone knew that. When he was young, doing his piano lessons, his mother would show him off at their house parties.

"Look at my Steven!" She'd say, and all the other mothers around would parrot something like "What a sweet boy!" and he would just keep playing. That night his father would commend him for keeping the ladies occupied, that he'd grow up to be a real ladies' man, and how great it was that he kept the women out of the men's hair. He'd never said "I'm proud of you," or "I love you," but that was as close as he got.

And for a while, Steve LIVED for it. He'd come downstairs, see his mother in her good pearls, her party pearls, and know that he'd be good for them that day. Be needed for something.

And then it got old. So he learned cello. That kept them entertained for a while, until it didn't. Then he learned flute. That one kept them occupied a little longer, Mr. Harrington could stand the fact that it was a "girly" instrument because it kept Steve's mouth shut. He got too good at talking while he played the other instruments.

Then he tried guitar, and well all the instruments just stopped impressing them, because they stopped having house parties. Instead, they'd started going out to them. Started going out and not coming back, for weeks upon weeks at a time. Steve was determined to give them something to show off, something to praise.

He had always been quite book smart, but he started really putting the effort in. Steve gave it a year and a half of straight A+'s, until he realized that his parents would never care. So he tried a new approach, called 'skating along right above failing'. It didn't get their attention one bit.

Even when Steve came home beaten and torn, from the upside down or a fight, they weren't even there to ever notice.

And sure, people like Joyce or Hopper would notice, check in on him until the black eye went away. But after that, they had lives to live.

So no, the adults in Steve's life didn't really give him much attention at all.

Of course he didn't mind it all that much. Some small part of Steve just figured 'I deserve it,' and he rolled with the punches.

He found solace in his instruments, still. He learned more and more. Piano was his best, but once you had learned piano you could learn just about anything else with some dedication. His guitar he could whip out at a couple of his high school parties. In private, alone in his room with a girl, he could strike a few chords and they would just obsess over it. Got him the companionship he so desperately needed for a while.

Even so, he never showed Nancy. She made it clear to him that she loved watching him swim, loved his muscles. The more masculine parts of him. So he never brought it out. When she asked about the shiny grand piano in his living room, he'd just say his mom played. He stashed away his other instruments in a spare room, so she wouldn't see them.

That's not to say he didn't want to show her one day. He wanted to, but once you get called bullshit once, you're pretty much over the vulnerability.

So he continued to hide it, hide his smarts. He skated through until graduation, nursing the wounds in his body and mind all alone. Then he met Robin.

And he was just too scared to show her that part of himself. His instruments had become his little secret, and he just wasn't keen on sharing.

Not until after the events of Vecna. He had lost enough by then. He didn't lose any friends this time, but he was close. Max regained some of her eyesight, wearing thick glasses that Steve paid for. He'd never let Max's mother do it. Eddie got his new government-supplied trailer, and walked the long road to recovery. And near the end of that road, Steve threw one damn good party.

It was early August. Steve and Robin had already celebrated a year of being best friends (and being free of Russian torture), but Max was having a harder time, so they waited a little longer, until the Byers-Hopper group had settled in, but before school started. It was pretty much a "Hey Hawkins is (Relatively) Safe!" party. Everyone had mostly recovered from the events of spring break, the Byers-Hopper clan had finally put the finishing touches on their home in Hawkins, getting a nice big house that someone left behind in the "Great Escape From Hawkins of 1986". Eddie had finished high school, a little bit with the pity of teachers who were sorry that they thought he was a murderer, combined with the pity that he was nearly killed in the "earthquake", but who's counting? It was his year.

It was all of their years, finally over with this upside-down business. So Steve threw a party.

The adults had left, calling in their bedtime at 9. The kids and the older teens were sleeping over though. Steve had more than enough space, and of course, the moment Joyce Byers closed the front door with her last "Call me if you need anything!" they had to break out the good old party games.

The kids insisted on truth or dare, and they got a couple rounds in before Dustin decided to single our Steve for once.

"You haven't been called on much, it's my turn to fix that." Dustin said. Argyle was the only person who had chosen Steve so far, since he was on vacation from California for the summer, staying at the Byers place after helping them move in.

"Yeah yeah just spit it out kid," Steve retorted, taking the last swig of his first-and-only beer for the night, always playing it safe in case he had to drive one of the kids home unexpectedly.

"Truth or Dare?"

Steve contemplated for a moment. He picked dare earlier with Argyle and it had been pretty simple. A truth might make him spill some of the secrets he was content to keep in his brain. Within the kids group half of the truths so far had been about crushes. It left Will stammering earlier, and he wasn't about to let the same thing happen to himself. He could admit he had... new feelings when it came to romance that he'd rather not let out in THIS room. What's the worst that could happen if he chose dare anyways?

"Dare. Hit me with your best shot kid."

"Damnit, I had only thought of a truth! Give me a second." Dustin fumbled, turning to Lucas and trying to think of a good dare.

"All that talk..." Eddie whispered into Steve's ear.

That was a new habit the older teens had gotten into. Whispered secrets behind flexed hands, like a little kid's game of telephone. Something that made them feel like kids again. Though if we're being honest, it was mostly Steve and Eddie.

"I know, right?" Steve whispered back. Admittedly, something about the whispering made the hair on Steve's neck stand up on end. It made him feel like he and Eddie were the only people in the world.

He always had to come back to reality though.

"I dare you-" Dustin interrupted, " -to show us something you've never shown anyone before. Like a hidden talent or something."

Steve thought about it for a second. Maybe he could finally be vulnerable with the group. He had gone to hell and back with these people, multiple times. Surely he could play some piano.

So Steve got up, passing his empty bottle to Nance who eyed it with a raised brow and set it on the side table next to her. He stepped over the boys' sleeping bags, all of them sticking around in the living room that night so the girls could have the basement. Steve chose to ignore when Mike fussed, saying that he got stepped on.

He sat down at the piano bench and cracked his knuckles, looking down at the keys before snapping his head up and asking, "Any requests?"

"Wait Steve you can-" Nancy started, before Robin blurted out a song.

"Take Me Home Tonight!" Robin shouted. It had become their collective favorite song recently, both of them singing it every day on the drive home from work.

"Yeah, I can do that one. Be my backup Robs?"

"You don't have to ask twice!" She swung up from her place next to Nance, stepping over the sleeping bags the same way Steve had.

When she made herself a comfy spot on top of the piano, swinging her legs back and forth, Steve started the intro.

Steve thought it sounded a little dinky on classical piano with no synth. He winced to himself as he played the intro, looking up to Robin for comfort. He just saw her jaw drop, and her mischievous smile go wider. He didn't have to look at anyone else, Robin's nod for him to start singing was all he needed to look back down at the keys.

Steve had never been a confident singer, always putting on a bit of a show, carrying a tune -but never doing his best- so if someone said it was bad, he could say he wasn't trying. This time though, he gave it his all.

By the first chorus he was throwing his head back and closing his eyes, putting on a show for a different reason, smiling as wide as he could whilst singing.

He took some liberties: embellishing a little on piano, changing "Ronnie" to "Robbie" because, honestly, who wouldn't have. He got to her solo and, playing the supporting chords with his left hand, held out his right hand and his fake microphone to Robin, who took his arm in her hands and let out her most dramatic "Be my little baby," straight from the heart.

Playing the intro to the next part, Steve remembered that there were people in the room besides him and Robin. He looked around at the faces of his friends. Lucas and Max were bopping along on the floor, Will, El, and Erica had been dancing haphazardly in the corner the whole time, El dragging her brother up by the arm. Erica followed; she had recently taken an admiring to the bitchin' girl with superpowers, plus both El and Max enjoyed having another girl at sleepovers. Dustin's jaw was still on the floor, although Nancy was more subtle about her shock, her mouth hanging in a little "o" . Jonathan and Argyle were nodding their heads along to the bass chords, having just the time of their lives. It was Eddie's face that made Steve's heart jump. He was marveling at Steve, and anyone could tell. It was enough to make Steve sing the next verse directly to him. It became all too real all of a sudden, and he wouldn't change it for the world.

Soon after, the game was ditched, all the kids rattling off songs for Steve to play for them, so they could sing along. After some Loverboy, Blondie, Grease, and their more-than-fair share of ABBA, the kids tired themselves out. Will and El made a point to thank Steve for his playing, Lucas, Max, and Erica whooped and hollered after every song, and the rest of them showed their thanks in other ways, in hugs goodnight or simple looks, eye contacts worth a million words. Then all the older teens headed upstairs. Jonathan and Argyle headed to their room early, but Robin and Nancy stuck around in the Steve's bedroom, where he was sharing with Eddie.

"When were you going to tell us you were a musical GENIUS?" Eddie asked.

"I'm no genius, I just- My mom wanted something to show off at parties when I was younger, I started learning when I was seven so I could be their free entertainment."

"Thirteen years, Steve?" Nancy felt pretty awful not knowing about something so personal to him.

"Yeah, this is my first time showing someone who wasn't at those parties though. Well, on the piano at least."

"What do you mean 'on the piano?' Do you play other instruments dingus?"

"Well, a couple others! Cello, flute, guitar, french horn, and drums a little. I can carry a tune on harmonica, but I mainly picked it up to learn Piano Man. Thought it'd be kinda funny."

"You are magical Stevie, did you know that?"

Those words, Eddie's words, bounced around in Steve's head for the rest of the night. Magical. Him? Magical.

"Seeing as we know a girl with superpowers, I doubt that I'm the magical one." Steve brushed it off.

The girls took their leave a while later, leaving Steve and Eddie to stew in their awkward nature around eachother.

"I guess I can give up on being the only cool guitar player in the group." Eddie said, faking a heartbroken look.

"You can still be the only cool guitar player, I'm just a guitar player."

"Oh c'mon Stevie! You know these kids think you're the coolest person on the planet."

"I think you've got that one covered, I'm just their ever-so-giving host and chauffeur." Steve tried to make a joke out of it, gave his best self-pitying chuckle and everything. Eddie saw right through it. Saw the tears cloud the edge of Steve's vision before he blinked them away.

"Hey, hey, hey, hey," Eddie stopped Steve, "You're so much more than a ride home and a place to stay to them, okay? I mean it, they think you're the coolest person on the planet. And they're not the only ones who think it."

"Ha, like you think it."

"I do, Steve. I do think it."

"I mean, come on Eds! There's really no redeeming factor," Steve let the tears fall freely, moving off of his bed where Eddie sat, and gesturing to himself,"I have a nice car, a big house, and a shit personality. I'm not good in conversation, I don't know any of their nerd games. I'm no good at keeping them safe from anything that isn't an interdimensional monster. I'm just kind of here. I'm not smart, or nice, or even funny, or magical like you said. I'm just here."

"Steve," Eddie started, this look in his eyes, trying it's hardest to tell Steve everything he means to them, means to Eddie. But Steve just closed his eyes, bowed his head, like Eddie had some power over him.

Steve just stood there, head bowed, flexing and unflexing his fists.

"Come here." Eddie commanded, patting the bed next to him. And, just like the little kid who learned piano to entertain his mom, Steve listened.

Steve sat down and Eddie immediately scooted him closer, putting Steve's chin in both of his hands. Making Steve look him in the eye.

"You are so much more to those kids. And even if I'm wrong, you're so much more to me. You are smart, you are kind, you are generous, and loving, and you care for each and every one of us more than anything or anyone in the world could reasonably ask you to." Eddie wiped Steve's tears as they fell, but he never broke eye contact. "You've saved their LIVES Steve. Many of them wouldn't be here without you. I wouldn't be here without you. You carried me out of that hell hole, and you've been here for me since. If there's anyone in this world qualified to tell you how much you mean to them, I think it's me."

"You really believe all of that?"

"Every syllable of every word."

See, Steve Harrington is incredibly smart. It's not his fault nobody believes him.

Not even himself.

But maybe, for the first time, he was about to make a smart decision.

So he learned forward, into Eddie. Pressed his lips into Eddie's and didn't doubt that Eddie would kiss back. And when Eddie did, Steve's heart soared. He put all of his gratitude, all of his feelings into kissing Eddie.

After he finally pulled away, Eddie just had to bring some light into the situation. He wiped away one of Steve's tears, and said:

"I hope I don't have to see those pretty eyes cry for that to happen again."

"You don't-" Steve leaned in again.

And if Robin found them suspiciously close in the morning, it was nobody's business but her own.

[nikosaki]

Please may I request Yandere fyodor with a reader who’s in love with dazai. Thank you, have a nice day/night

Yandere fyodor with reader crushing over Dazai

Summary: Uh oh! Having fyodor as someone who is obesesed with you and then going for dazai? Tsk tsk what a foolish bird you are!

Genre: yandere, dark content

Warnings: dark themes, manipulation, bite marks, gaslighting,

a/n: reader has some nerve to even look at dazai if it’s yandere fyodor💀

Oh hell naw- 💀

You think having a yandere Russian man stalking you 24/7 is not enough so much that you went to crush over another crazy maniac

Well lets be clear first, let’s say reader is in the Rats in the house of the dead then it would cause more conflict especially between the two geniuses.

Fyodor already has a whole chess game prepared now he wants his doll to play with?

Fyodor knows what goes on your head you can tell too whenever his eyes narrow when your feeling nervous, excited or sad, he know everything

Perhaps it was his mistake of introducing dazai to you, his darling was just so curious!

But fyodor knows he know whenever your eyes had this small form of heart whenever he talked about him or showed his picture.

It became worse when you and dazai met the first time, oh golly-

I am pretty sure dazai already knew about how you love him and though at first he thought he could use you, you look like quite the peculiar person.

Having the demons doll wrapped around his finger is such a great way to provoke him

Dazai is a smooth charmer just like fyodor, he probably takes things further each time you two meet

One time he would say soothing words, another kissing the back of your hand, complimenting your work, and maybe at times leaving a trace of him on you intentionally.

Maybe even going far as leaving a mark on you though I doubt fyodor would allow that.

If anything fyodor got pretty angry when he found out you two even interacted! How dare his doll chase after another man

Foe now he will let you ran into the man you love but when he confronts you a bout it..I hope you will be both physically and mentally prepared.

Dont look at me like that! Fyodor is a sadist and he loves punishing you whether it’s mentally or sexually.

I do think he would lock you in a room for days with no sunlight rather than do physical punishment. What will you blame him on? Touching you?

You can’t really it’s your fault, why did you ran into his arms, do you not know who you belong to? Do you want to leave him? Is he not enough for you?

All sorts of manipulation tactics will be used against you and at the end you will become more submissive.

I am pretty sure if dazai by any chance falls in love with you it would be better for fyodor, why does he need to be angry? disturbing Dazai by any way makes his ego grow!

Two birds with one stone.

In the end you will be far too of a lifeless doll who learned its lesson from living in a dim cell for far too long. How many days has it been? You do not know but atleast fyodor didn’t abandon you.

A/N: not proud of it too much *sigh*

[inklore]

love lies

premise: the love you have for your fiancé is a farce that you’ve perfected for three years that has gone unnoticed by everyone, except her.

pairing: villanelle x (f)reader

word count: 1.7k

contents: cheating, fingering, choking, sort of knife play, getting off to the talks of blood and murder, dirty talk-ish, they’re both a bit unhinged but that’s ok.

note: this is an au obviously so take v’s character as you will and not as what’s canon ok, but cheers to my gay ass finally writing for her!

haunted hoedown day one.

The fake smile that you know has to be hurting the blonde’s face from being held for the entirety of the night makes something in your stomach curdle. 

Makes your nerves sit on edge at the agitation, the secrets, and the lies that the smiles hold. That the owner of it is hiding. She deserves applause for keeping up with the act. The nice neighbor. The befriending of the nice couple who just moved in next door, getting close to the soon to be wife who left all her friends and troubles behind to move to Paris with her fiancé. 

A move you agreed to. 

A move you imagined would bring you and your fiancé closer. Would change that pit in your stomach that has since become a gaping hole every time you planned for the wedding. Planned to spend your life next to this man you only seemed to love when he was suffering. 

When he was vulnerable. Brow pulled down in sadness. A cut done by a kitchen knife while he was cutting vegetables that you pushed down on harder than you needed to while cleaning it. When you accidentally put the wrong salve on it, just to watch him wince and squirm. 

That look in his eyes when you were on top of him and you wrapped your fist around his throat to watch that sheen in his eyes question if you were going to let go. The last hitch in his lungs before you cut the air flow off completely. 

“I just get really into it, I'm sorry.” You had told him when he asked about it after the first time, and who was he to take away from the pleasure of the woman he loved? 

His ignorance was bliss. 

But it was also tiring. Creating that gaping hole that the love he poured out to you ran through endlessly where it should have made you whole. Full. Better. 

And yet you agreed to wear the ring he saved up to get you. Followed him across the ocean. 

Your ignorance was a farce you didn’t know how to get out of. A farce that you’ve perfected for three years. That has gone unnoticed by everyone.

Except the blonde to your left. 

The blonde, who had almost lost her touch on pretending to care about whatever was coming out of your fiancé’s mouth the longer the night went on. The longer her eyes caught yours. The longer her knee had pressed into your inner thigh after leaning herself further against the table—giving a look of fake eagerness—the more she pushed her legs between your open ones. 

Your look of warning made her fake smile twitch into her real one—devilish, mischievous. 

But now both smiles are gone and the two of you are standing in your kitchen, and you’re thankful for the dishtowels in your hands that are keeping them busy with drying because you know her resistance is running thin. 

The patience she’s had all night that has threatened to come out in the possible slip of her false accent—the accent you only found to be fake when she cornered you in the entryway of your flat, her lips against yours, your name sounding better in her rigid Russian accent than her fake French one. 

Your hands had gone from being in her hair to pushing at her shoulders, removing her from your body not because of the lie but because you needed the excuse to stop this, where every part of your being was sighing in relief from finally giving into the tension. To finally being touched by someone you actually desired. 

You may not have loved your fiancé, but starting a torrid affair with your new neighbor didn’t seem like the right way to get out of your current situation—something you eventually learned was the exact opposite. 

“I’ll be your dirty little secret, if that’s what you’re into. If it makes this easier for you. We both know he’s not your type.”

And if there was an award for reading someone completely through to their core and being right, Villanelle would win, and you’d be the loser.

“He is a very annoying chewer.” She breaks the silence, “did you know this when you accepted his proposal?” Your silent raised brow is enough for her to put her hands up in defense. “It was just an observation.” She sighs, picking up another dish, “a very annoying observation.” 

Your mind scatters to scrounge up something that sets your nerves on edge about Villanelle. To what? Stick up for the man you don’t love? Or to try and prove to her that you actually do have feelings for the man who’s in the next room carrying on with his night happily, thinking he just had a great dinner with his soon to be wife and their hospitable neighbor who’s definitely not fucking his fiancé? 

But there’s nothing to prove to the woman who can read right through you. 

Who’s gotten off at the palms you’ve both wrapped around each other's throats. 

You can’t disguise yourself in front of the queen of them. 

It’s a losing game.

A game you’re not interested in playing, no matter how hard you try to convince yourself to. 

A game you should play. To resist this woman and the detrimental feelings she brings up. The feelings that fill the void inside of you with the toxic waste of your shared fucked-upness. 

Your eyes catch the glint of the knife in Villanelle’s hands. The way her fingers run along the blade to clean it. The tight grip she has on the handle. The confidence she has in knowing she’s not going to slip and cut herself—like she’s held worse in her hands and done worse with it. 

The sight—the thought—makes you swallow harder. Makes those dark feelings and thoughts light something deep in your stomach that has you aching. That has your eyes looking up through the doorway towards the room where you know your fiancé is. 

“I could do it, you know, quick, painless. He wouldn’t feel a thing.” Her accent is thicker when she’s whispering. When she’s this close, leaning into your side, breathing against the shell of your ear. 

Her words make your grip slip, the glass in your hand tumbling into the sink, making you jump; making your thighs press together, your lungs forget how to take in air as you envision the blood that would stain your rugs, that would stain Villanelle’s skin. 

“Everything okay in there?” 

His voice is like a cold shower to the heat burning through your nerves like wildfire. 

“Yes!” Villanelle pipes up in her fake French accent, “just a case of slippery fingers.” Her laugh is short and looks misplaced with the lack of smile on her face. With the fire that’s burning in her eyes when you look up at her, that glint of something you’ve yet to see but know is within her. That you know is within you. That has always been within you if you’d just dived deep enough to face the inevitable instead of letting her touch, kiss, fuck it out of you. 

He’s still talking, saying words your ears—and your mind—refuse to register as Villanelle grips your waist and pushes you against the counter. 

The knife still in her hand, the tip pressed to your breast bone, more distracting. More worth focusing on. Stealing all your attention and breath, even as she’s replying to him. As she’s keeping up with surade like her eyes aren’t burning through you. Like you can’t see how heavy she’s now breathing. How the sheen in her eyes is the complete opposite of someone who is weak, and it turns you on even more. 

“It's worse when I push it through slowly.” Her breath ghosts over your lips as she whispers, as she leans forward, the tip of the knife presses further into your skin, making your breath catch at the sting. “I would do it so he would have already bled out before he knew what had happened to him.” The edges of her mouth rise in a soft smirk, “or would you rather me show you? So you can understand how it feels and do it yourself. You would look so good doing it.” The arousal in her voice that leaks through in the rough kiss she presses to your mouth is just as intoxicating as her words. 

You don’t have time to mourn the loss of the blade at your chest when she moves it to press the two of you closer, to grip the sides of your neck to keep your lips on her mouth. To give her easier access to lick and bite into and against your open mouth, willing—needing—all she is giving to you. 

When her hand slips up your dress, your thighs spread to give her access to where the both of you need her to be. To the cotton of your underwear and past the elastic band, to that ache that has you wet and warm and throbbing against her palm and fingers. 

Her middle finger presses against your clit, your gasp concealed by her lips, your fingers digging into the side of her shirt. 

“God, you’re so wet.” Her finger leaves your clit, the heel of her palm flush against it as she pushes a finger inside of you. “Is this all for me or for wanting him dead?” She teases and smirks when you can’t answer because you know you’ll do it too loudly. 

When you both know the answer already. 

If the two of you were alone, if you weren’t trying to be quiet—to stop the inevitable of your fiancé finding out or worse happening to him—you’d want Villanelle to keep talking. To coax you to your orgasm with her teases and remarks. To drop down to her knees and bury her face between your thighs until you were begging her for more, and then begging her to stop when she gave you too much.

But you’re not alone, and there’s only so many gasps and pants she can swallow down. Can lick out of your mouth with her tongue, thanks to her skillful fingers. 

Thanks to the palm around your throat and the thumb pressing against your pulse point. 

“One day I will kill him, and you will be mine.” 

And as you come with her name breathed into her satisfied smirk, you believe her.

You want her to. 

You know she will.  

[shikariiin]

HIII HELLO I would like to apologize for disappearing a-lot for this past few weeks??? I had some issues going on and momentarily fell into depression where I went to the hospital for a while??? But uh urm yeah I'm okay now!!!

Going off number because in order to upload Henry's I need to explain the classes and how they work, but for the sake of continuity I decide to release James! With a new concept art format and him being a biological class, RAMBLES BELOW!

I made James as an imported engine from indonesia set to work for Sodor, It's more of my bias and I kinda see him with the ethnicity where I am from, his story might be close to home for me.

James is a vain, arrogant, petty and an absolute pissbaby cringefail of a man.

He's A biological class, meaning he is made like how humans are made (yes I will feature his baby photos in the future), he's only 2-3 younger than Henry and Gordon. This also means he have a family back at his country, a (late) father, a mother, and 2 Younger brothers, both of which have one year difference to each other.

He's the primary cook in Tidmouth's shed, his Top-notch culinary skills can be thanked by his father used to teach him cooking when he was little, after his father died he treated cooking as something personal to him, I think James would be the type of person to when they have something they like, they would grow personal to said things.

Batik is also one of those hobby he have, making new patterns for future projects or just something he does to bide time, during this he would be out of character-ly quiet. Though Keeping all of his original personality I would just add that when he likes someone he tends to be more gentle to them, and more caring (difficult with his high standard).

Never touch his coat. <- this is important

Old uniform! Yes I based it on indonesia's most common uniform leave me alone HAHA

When he first arrived he was getting used to new surroundings, also funfact, he's multilingual!

Language he have learned :

Indonesian, English, Chinese, Japanese, Korean, Russian, and Spanish !

He used to be a-lot slimmer, used to be a twink if you may, but now he's Sodor's most famous Himbo, why he bulk up is, by his own admission, to withstand whatever shenanigans he would get into, basically becoming his own human shield to any dumbfuckery he put himself in.

Also to my indonesian followers, yes I laughed my ass off when giving his last name, thank you for asking.

Lmao okay bye 🤭🏃‍♀️

[rodolfoparras]

I've been lurking for a bit, but I love your stuff. Any random ̶t̶h̶o̶t̶s thoughts? - 👾Anon (if that emoji isn't taken)

Thinking about how Price knows exactly how to make you jealous 18+

It’s not by flirting with a recruit because Price knows you wouldn’t feel threatened by someone who can’t even make eye contact with their superior. But then there’s someone who can do more than that: Nikolai or Nik as Price likes to call him.

Nikolai and Price who seem to be glued at the hip; with the Russian happily following Price to whatever mission he’s going to, and having his name somehow being brought up in every conversation, “oh Nik had been thinking of..” or “oh we should ask Nik” and even having Nik fly out a handful of times to see the older man

And just like so many times before Nik flies over for a visit, this time unannounced and whether it’s on purpose or not you don’t care but watching them interact so closely manages to make you jealous.

Before the two men have the time to register what’s happening you’re pulling Price away from Nik’s grasp, and into his office, muttering some excuse that you need help with something.

But instead of sorting through paperwork, you’re pulling off his clothes, before pushing him up against the door.

He grunts out in pain but doesn’t move away as your hands slide down to his ass, taking out the plug he usually keeps on him before prepping him with your spit slicked fingers.

"What?" Got nothing to say now?” you say, voice breathy and strained, taking note of how he looks absolutely wrecked with only your fingers inside him. “No ‘Nik this’ ‘Nik that huh?’ Should we call him over him? Show him how much of a whore you can be for me?”

“Please please-” he slurs out, forehead pressed against the wooden door as he bucks down onto your hand.

“What do you want, pretty hm?” You say fingers curling up and hitting the spot that has him wailing.

“Fuck me please! Please god-“ he cries out, blunt nails clawing at the wooden door while clenching down onto your fingers.

“You sure you don’t want Nik to help you with this hm?” You say teeth biting down his shoulder and watching the way his back arches at your rough touch.

“Ah fuck! No no, just you just you - please please-“ he tries to say only to be cut off by someone else.

“John?” You hear a baritone voice trickling through the door “Are you okay in there?” Nik. He must’ve heard the thudding sounds and mistook them for something else. Although you feel a twig of annoyance you can’t help but also feel a twig of excitement at the turn of events.

“Answer him” you say before you line your cockhead up with his entrance.

“Yes- ah!“Price cries out as you slide past his puckered hole, swiftly biting down on his hand to prevent any more noise from slipping through the door.

“Are you sure?” Nik says, concern still prominent in his voice.

It takes a moment for Price to respond, thoughts turning into static haze as your hips set a steady pace. “Mm sure sure- we’ll be right back Nik”

“Alright…” is all he says before the Russian walks away.

When the two of you return again, Price tries to look as put together as possible while you couldn’t care less. But Nikolai still takes notes of the mark on Price’s neck, the way he sounds out of breath trying to talk to him even how Price waddles over the chair next to him.

That day Nikolai learns not to come unannounced and maybe even not to visit as frequently as he does.

Spitball w/ me?

[tinkerleaf]

The Coffee Crime Cafe

Synopsis: Fyodor seems like such a kind man when you meet him at a cafe. Trusting him is so easy. Words: 1.6k Pairing: Fyodor x Reader Warnings: manipulation, weapons, crimes, etc. Genre: idk general? a/n: the idea I had for this one was so good but I hope it translates just as well.

-｡;+☆+;｡･ﾟ･｡;+★+;｡･ﾟ･｡;+☆+;｡｡;+☆+;｡

You were a foreign college student in Yokohama studying literature. It didn’t take you long to find out from the locals about some of the crazy things that conspired in the area. You knew better than to meddle in affairs you weren’t supposed to, but that rule didn’t help you avoid trouble.

Your footsteps echoed in the cozy cafe as you sat down and settled in a booth that would serve as your desk for the next few hours. The amount of work almost due on your dashboard was enough to make you sigh out of frustration.

“I should get started…”

As you rushed to collect your items, the man in front of you knelt to assist you. “Are you alright?” He asked in perfect English. It took you by surprise.

After a while, you managed to get a surprising amount of work done. You didn’t pay too much attention to the time, but you realized it might be best to save the rest for another day. You wanted to ensure you were back at your dorm before nightfall.

Quickly gathering your belongings, you headed towards the door of the cafe. Before you could pull the door open, someone on the other side pushed it, causing you to drop your things.

“Yeah! Sorry, I didn’t mean to run into you.”

A couple of days later, your workload began to pile up again. You decided to head back to the same cafe to continue where you left off. When you walked in, you noticed the same guy you ran into before was sitting at one of the tables by the window. You internally panicked.

“That’s quite alright,” he handed you one of your books. He had a thick Russian accent that made you melt inside. He smiled as he continued inside the cafe.

You left with your face flushed, speechless at the handsome man who ran into you like the start of some random Hallmark movie.

“Where do I sit? Has he noticed me yet? It’ll be weird if I sit too close, but the other seats are taken! “

You spotted a table a few spots down from where he was and made your way over to it without making any eye contact. Little did you know, he’d known you were there from the moment you walked in. He was sipping on what looked to be hot tea and looking over some papers in front of him.

After around thirty minutes, you realized you weren’t going to get anything done with such a handsome man within 15 feet of you. You wanted to take a little peek at him from above your laptop, so you shot him a quick glance. It turned out not to be so quick when you met his gaze. You immediately looked back down. You started to get anxious and decided to try and work on your assignments somewhere else.

As you get ready to leave, you hear his silky voice once again. “Leaving so soon?”

You give him a nervous smile, “Hm? Oh, yeah.”

“You know, if you need any help with your studies, I happen to be quite knowledgeable of all kinds of literature.”

You blanked for a second, “How did you know what I was studying?”

He gestures towards your books. “I’ve read those before.”

“Oh.”

“Why don’t you sit? I’d love to hear your opinions on them, and maybe even learn a little bit about yourself.”

You felt something rather sinister radiating from this man, but you couldn’t help the invisible force that was pushing you closer to him. After sitting across from him at the table, you introduced yourselves. His name was Fyodor, a name that slipped off your tongue in the best way.

The more time you spent with him that morning, the more comfortable you became with him. After all, he spoke your language, had a similar interest, helped you with your work, etc. You wondered if you were meant to meet him based on how convenient this was for you.

It was one o’clock when you parted ways, but you knew you would see him again next time. And so did he.

The next few times you saw him were the same. You sat with him and studied while he went on about his opinions on the books you were reading. Once you were finished, you’d go on about all sorts of topics. Sometimes he would offer to buy your coffee, which you only accepted once. After all, you didn’t want to seem too interested.

You nodded. “Sure! I can do that!”

One particular time, however, Fyodor asked you to do a simple favor for him.

“Do you mind returning this to the library downtown for me? I will not have time to take it back myself before it is due.” It was a classic you hadn’t read yet. “From my understanding, you travel that way often for class, is that correct?”

“Thank you, I promise I will make it worth your time.” He winked as he handed you the book, but before you could flip through the pages, he stopped you. “Don’t bother.”

You set it in your bag, “Is it not good?” It felt a little heavy.

“Terrible. It’s been a while since I’ve seen such atrocious writing.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you laugh.

You didn't realize at the time that even if you wanted to open it, you couldn't. It had been sealed shut.

A few hours after leaving the cafe, you dropped off the book at the library through the slot next to the entrance. It was thick and old, and it felt like carrying a brick in your bag. No wonder Fyodor didn’t bring it back himself.

You didn’t see Fyodor for almost a week, but you were checking in almost every day after the library incident. You finally caught him back in his usual place by the window. You get an uneasy feeling as if you’re being watched.

The next morning, you didn’t see Fyodor in his usual spot at the cafe. He had mentioned before that he was a busy man, so his absence wasn’t a shock to you.

What did surprise you, however, was the news headliner. Apparently, that same library you were at just the day before had been completely leveled by an explosion. You gaped at your phone, trying to find more information.

“There you are, I’ve been looking for you!”

“No, I did not. However, I think I have a clue.” He sips his tea.

He looks up at you with a calm smile, “Why, my apologies. My work was keeping me away.”

You sit down, “I need you to explain some things to me. Did you see what happened on the news?”

You blink at him. “Fyodor, that library exploded. The day after I went.”

He didn’t even flinch. “Then it must have worked.”

You freeze. “Huh? What worked??”

“My distraction.” He stands to leave, satisfied with the current situation. You weren’t ready to let him go so easily.

“Fyodor? What’s going on?” You followed him, but he didn’t answer.

He was focused on the man in a trench coat sitting nearby, seemingly waiting for him. The look on Fyodor's face didn’t ease your dread.

You didn’t understand much of what he said. You had no idea who he was, but he must have had something to do with the situation.

“Again, what is going on?!” You pleaded, begging for an answer to this confusing mess.

“It seems they found us out.” The smirk on Fyodor’s face made you want to vomit.

“Us?” Once everything clicked, you became livid. “You-you had me do your dirty work?”

The next few seconds went by in slow motion. An armed group of officers pointed their weapons at you, and you were panicking. You watched as Fyodor killed one of them with a single touch.

You knew you’d be sent to prison. There’s no doubt about that. What you didn’t know was Fyodor’s intentions with you, which you feared was much more terrifying.

That evening, you were taken to a holding cell until you could be tried for your “crimes”.

When you woke up the next morning, you were in a hotel room. At least, that’s what you thought it was. You were confused, but you couldn’t complain. At least you were out of jail.

You quickly moved away from the bed to the window. On the outside, there was nothing but the sky.

“Where the hell am I?”

There was a knock at the door. Looking through the peephole, you saw the mastermind himself. You wanted to ignore him and hide, but it didn’t feel like you had any choice but to let him in.

“My apologies for manipulating you into my plans. But I promise you, my intentions with you are only pure."

“Do you hear yourself right now? You set me up! You made me a criminal!”

A soft smile remains on his face, “That’s correct.”

You sighed, “Why? Why me?” You really thought you finally made a friend in this country.

“At first, it was because I needed someone to set off a distraction, and you just happened to be right in my path. You were so naive.” He lightly chuckles, “But now I think I’ve grown fond of you.” He motioned for you to walk with him into the hallway. You weren't exactly sure what to do with that statement. Was that supposed to be a good thing? This man was clearly insane, but at least you weren’t his enemy.

You followed closely behind him, taking note of the luxurious furnishings and decor that surrounded the establishment you were in. “So…what now? How do I get home?”

“You’re not going home. You’re wanted in the streets of Yokohama. It’s best if you stay here with me. After all, I told you I would make that little task of yours worth your time.”

A gut-wrenching feeling filled within you. “Where is ‘here’ exactly?”

He brought you to a balcony that overlooked a grand gambling establishment, with all sorts of machines and dealers. There were people scattered everywhere like ants. The enormous room before you was absolutely stunning.

“This is the Sky Casino.”