#i figure they started using them sometime in the middle of high school

[magicalgirlmascot]

Continuing to think about KNPS Inika bc I love them

Jaller is both student council president and on the boy's floor hockey team. Not captain, he doesn't have time for that. He has college applications to prepare for, and homework, and his part time job at Kini Nui's only grocery store, and keeping Takua out of trouble. Chronically single. Does not still have feelings for Hahli and no one can prove he does. Trying to unionize his workplace despite being 17. Wants to be a firefighter.

Hahli is assistant captain on the girl's lacrosse team (Macku is captain). She always feels like she's at the edge of her friend group and never really knows what to say. Often feels like she's behind with regards to trends and stuff because she gets crap internet out at the farm. Has dated a few different guys over the years. Does not still have feelings for Jaller and no one can prove she does. Has no idea what she wants to do after high school and is sick of people asking.

Kongu spends almost every lunch hour in the gym's weight room working out. He's not on any sports teams, he just likes working out and doesn't want to dedicate time to going to a gym after school. Will still throw hands for Tamaru without a second thought. Plays the clarinet in band class and wants to learn the drums. Gay and loud about it. Wants to be a pilot.

Hewkii is hands down the most popular kid in their grade. He's the guy who's on every sports team and gets along with everyone. Took drama as his obligatory arts credit in grade 9 and loved it so much he's taken it every year since. Joined at the hip with Macku. Likes going to escape rooms and axe throwing with friends or on dates. Wants to go away to university, but is worried about what that will mean for his relationship.

Nuparu is the star of shop class and has won awards at every science fair he's ever entered. Has like four friends who are all just as geeky as he is. They hang out under the stairs by the tech hall like it's their own little clubhouse. Built like a brick shithouse. On the school's tech crew for theater and other shows. Has been waffling between getting a degree in engineering or going straight into a trade after high school, and is stressed about the fact that he's going to have to make a decision about that soon.

Matoro keeps to himself, gets good grades, and tries to fly under the radar as much as possible. Took vocal music as an arts credit in grade 9 and loved it but refuses to take any other classes that involve getting onstage, no matter how much Hewkii begs him to try out for the school musical. Spends most of his time in the library with Kopeke, had a rough first year of school. Neither closeted nor out but a secret third thing (acts like everyone has always known he's gay and they're the weird ones for not remembering). Wants to be a sign language interpreter and a wildlife conservationist and also run away to live in the woods.

Takua has become the undisputed champion of hallway gossip. They know everything there is to know about everyone in the school, and if you ever need anything ever, they definitely know a guy. Still terrified of the dark. Goes to a lot of parties. In the anime club, GSA, and game club. Writes a lot of short stories and has put together a compilation zine to sell. Works part time for the same cleaning company as their mom. Wants to get a creative writing degree.

[bluesidez]

GymRat!Miguel Part 2

content warning: mentions of food because big boys gotta eat, there’s a ref photo for an outfit in here that is unfortunately NOT a plus-size girl 😞 (I couldn’t find a big girl wearing an outfit like that for the life of me, but let’s use our imagination), 18+ towards the end so MDNI!

word count: 1.7k (not very drabble-like, ik) kinda proofread

Prev | Next ✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮ Masterlist

GymRat!Miguel who wakes up when his 6 am alarm rings, eyes tired and bleary. His roommate is sound asleep, thank god, and Miguel is just staring at the ceiling for a good 10 minutes before he decides to move. He has an 8 am and he needs some type of breakfast before he heads to class.

GymRat!Miguel who uses the college cafeteria to his full advantage. He made sure that his dad’s money went to the highest meal plan. One free meal plan a day and a loaded campus card for everything else. He stacks his plate high with everything the cafeteria is offering today. Sausages, eggs, 2 bananas, a blueberry muffin, and a protein shake he brought from his room.

GymRat!Miguel who made friends with one of the cafeteria ladies, Ms. Beatrice, by the third week of school. She noticed how much he visited the cafeteria and always snuck him an extra treat from the kitchen when she saw him.

“I missed you last Tuesday!” she says, squeezing his shoulder when she walks up to his table. She slides a wrapped egg sandwich across the table. “I was saving some extra cookies for you, but you were nowhere to be found.”

Miguel thanks her, happy to have something light for later, “Ah, I was stuck in the library doing a group project. Sorry about that, Ms. Beatrice.”

“As long as you’re getting your education, I don’t mind,” she says, hands on her hips. “Don’t go out there skipping class now, ok?”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Miguel says, waving her goodbye. His mom would kill him if that ever happened. Not that he would tell her, she just had a sixth sense for his “fuck-ups.”

GymRat!Miguel who makes it to his class fifteen minutes early to arrange his part of his desk to his liking. Sometimes he feels so embarrassed when he needs to grab something in the middle of class, his ears hyperfocusing on every little noise he makes in quiet, crowded areas. He always makes sure to get out his laptop, a pen, a pencil, a highlighter, a notebook, some white-out, and a water jug. He prefers to be over-prepared.

GymRat!Miguel who’s feeling anxious when the sorority girls pass by his table, giggling and twirling their hair. They attempt to make conversation with him, speaking ill of the professor. He just nods along for the sake of being a gentleman. He thought the professor’s Millennial attempts at Gen Z jokes were kind of funny, albeit very 2010. He didn’t have the heart to tell them he actually enjoyed the lectures.

GymRat!Miguel who’s never been more excited for a lecture to start in his life. He didn’t know many more “wow”’s snd “that’s crazy”’s he had left in him. The noise of the ice hitting their plastic coffee cups as they struggled to get every drop out was starting to grate against his ears. He missed you and your sticker-covered water bottle. He looked over at his jug and smiled when he saw the ‘Game Over’ sticker you gifted him before the last lab. You noticed his joystick keychain and felt that his water bottle was empty.

GymRat!Miguel who declines the girls’ offer to join them on a morning jog after. He liked to work out in solitude and morning jogs with them would mean conversation. He would also have to be extra conscious about what he wore. No older lady walking her dog needed to spot him jogging with shorts that were too short for his own good and a tank top cut so deep that it was like string on his chest.

GymRat!Miguel who decides to head to the library in between class to kill time. He figured he can see if there are any science fiction he can check out to read in his free time. As he walks there, he opens Instagram to scroll. No, he has not been checking the app since this morning to see if you let him in, he’s not a freak. He stops walking when he checks his notifs to see that you accepted his follow request. He wastes no time to click your page again and is bombarded with tons of photos.

GymRat!Miguel who has to close the app immediately when he sees your first photo. It's a picture of you outside of a restaurant in a knitted two-piece. The top is open just a bit to see your chest and the long skirt is low enough to see a part of your stomach peeking through. Your smile is radiant and the caption is something about congratulating someone. You look delectable and Miguel can’t afford to run back to his dorm to let his mind wander over it right now.

GymRat!Miguel who gets another notification as he steps into his dorm room after his last class of the day and sees that you’ve liked and commented on his most recent post. It’s a mirror picture of him flexing his arm after his last work out. His shorts are riding high on his thighs and the curve of his ass is very noticeable. Gabriel had blew up his phone with voice memos of him cackling after he posted it.

“Looking good!! 🫣 Get those gains Miguel! 💪🏾”

Miguel runs a victory lap in his dorm room, thankful that his roommate wouldn’t be back until that night. He’s jumping and punching the air excitedly as if he were a boxer. If he wasn’t fearful of busting his ass, he’d do a backflip. Take that, Gabri.

GymRat!Miguel who decides to go back to your account, running on the hype of that one compliment from you. He stares at that first photo again, still mesmerized as if he didn’t see it earlier. He gives a like and starts typing.

“Wow…”

No, that’s corny.

“Loving the blue…”

Is he a frat guy?

“You look stunning”

Was that too much? He decides to add on a heart eyes emoji, afraid he might be coming on too strong.

GymRat!Miguel who goes a little further down your page. There’s a photo of you in a crochet cover up, your swimsuit peaking through the material. He groans as he slides to the next picture and the top of your cover up is off and it’s just a view of your back with your bikini string wrapped around it. Your lower half is in the water and if he can imagine it just enough, he can feel himself right behind you, taking in the view of your ass against him.

He’s hard. Again.

He decides to just let everything hang while he has the dorm to himself. His boxers are to his ankles as he sits on the bed, back against the wall. He keeps staring at your swimsuit pictures. Your breasts pushed together while you lean over the boat. Your hips swaying in a clip of you dancing with your friends. Your stomach on display as you lay in the sand, ready for him to squeeze.

He grit his teeth as he played the clips over and over again, his hand moving fast to bring him his relief. He closed his eyes and imagined he was there, watching you swaying before him. He would join you, grab your hips and let you guide him in the dance. He felt faint as he let go, voice shouting and white splattered across his shirt and fist.

He breathes fast, trying to calm down. He decides to like the photo dump and comment some aimless beach emojis under the post. It was the least he could do after using it to get off. How embarrassing.

GymRat!Miguel who jumps when his phone dings again. He was prepping to go to the gym when your response comes flying to his phone. His heart picks up when he sees you replied to his comment.

“That is so sweet of you to say! 🥺 Thank you 🥰”

He doesn’t know if you took it as a friendly gesture or a sign that he wanted you. Either way, he’s over the moon. There’s a pep in his step as he blasts Super Shy in his ears on the way to the gym. He had a new motivation to push harder in his sets.

GymRat!Miguel who tacks on 10 extra pounds during his arm workout. The guys in the gym are eyeing him in wonder and horror as he uses the 70lb weights for tricep extensions. He thinks of seeing you in lab later that week and decides to do some hip thrusts.

He can never be over-prepared.

GymRat!Miguel who decides to take a picture at the end of his work out to post on his story. He’s sweating, hair dripping towards the ends, his chest glistening. The angle is awkward as he moves the camera below him and flexes an arm for the picture. The story was meant for one girl and one girl only, so he didn’t really care how silly it looked to others.

GymRat!Miguel who almost fist pumps on the walk home when you like his story and leave a reply. He checks the private messages, grin on his face before he even reads what you have to say.

“Looks like you had a nice workout. I might have to join you next time and get some tips 🤔”

Miguel swiped the app up and texted Gabriel:

“Don’t ever question my game again”

"? Wtf are you talking about"

Miguel opened up his messages with you again and replied to text him whenever and he’d be happy to help.

GymRat!Miguel who winds down for the night, scrolling on his phone before he closes his eyes. Of course you posted a story and of course he pressed it within record speed.

It was a photo of you laying down all bundled up with a cute ‘good night’ gif moving across the bottom. You had on a spaghetti strap tank top and if your blanket wasn’t in the way, he’s sure he would see more than that.

You looked soft, adorable, kissable.

He liked the story and responded back a “good night” and closed his phone. He wanted you to visit him in his dreams once more.

dividers by: @gigittamic 🩵

a/n: tumblr mobile kept deleting full paragraphs of my draft. not happy about that because I kept losing my flow. 😒 it happened like THREE TIMES 😭

Thanks for reading! Like, comment, reblog, and tell me how you feel! 🩵

Wanna be added to the taglist for GymRat!Miguel? Comment and let me know. 🤗 (PLEASE HAVE YOUR AGE IN YOUR BIO. This series has been and will get even more NSFW!)

taglist: @ghost-lantern 🫶🏾🥺

[andvys]

I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 11

Warnings: none really, mentions of smoking and drinking, reader punching someone....

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!cheerleader!reader , Steve Harrington x Nancy Wheeler , slight Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summary: Steve watches you from afar, confused about your relationship with the metalhead.

Word count: 4.9k

A/N: @mysticmunson you're always my biggest help and inspiration, thank you, angel🤍

series masterlist

-

“Will you hold still?”

“I’m sorry!” 

“Why are you so shaky?”

“I-I don’t know.”

You drop the eyeshadow brush on the desk and put your hand on your hip, sighing as you look at Chrissy who looks more nervous than ever. She is still wearing a hoodie, the cheer uniform is hanging over the back of your chair. You have been trying to do her eye makeup for the past twenty minutes.

“Lay down.”

Her eyebrows shoot up, confusion takes over her face, “why?”

“Because I can’t work like this, you keep fidgeting – seriously, what’s up? You are never this nervous.” 

You and Chrissy always get ready together whenever there’s a basketball game. Usually she does her makeup herself but tonight she asked you to do it, she wanted something similar like you, just with more color.

She seemed happy and excited when she came over but now she seems like a nervous mess. Every time you move closer to her, she starts fidgeting, it’s not the first time you had noticed her doing that. You have noticed a lot in the past three months. 

Heather and Chrissy kept being secretive, oftentimes you would catch them whispering before they’d notice you in the room, they share glances that you don’t understand. They still make you feel left out. You confronted them a while back but neither of them gave you any answers to your questions, it upset you and it caused you to distance yourself from them a little. 

They had started to make you feel the way he made you feel. The constant lies, the whispers and them going behind your back had gotten to you. It triggered some feelings that you thought you had left in the past. 

They were upset when you stopped answering their phone calls and when you would cancel plans but you couldn’t be around them when they refused to talk about the very obvious issues they had with you. You would never drop the friendship, you would never leave them behind, they mean too much to you to just kick them out of your life but you needed some distance, for your sake. 

You made a new friend, Robin Buckley. Eddie introduced you to her back in January, they had been friends since middle school – back when he was still a theater kid. 

You instantly hit it off with her, she is nice and she is very different from Chrissy and Heather, which is why she didn’t feel comfortable hanging out with them yet. It’s a miracle that she gave you a chance considering that ‘popular’ people make her feel extremely anxious and uncomfortable – which you can understand now that you see things from a different perspective.

To most people, you are still the ‘the queen of Hawkins High’ but to some you are one of the freaks now. They glare at you, they whisper about you, they call you names and point their fingers at you, especially when they see you with Eddie, who feels guilty about the treatment you are getting from some of the people that used to be in your friend group when you were still with Steve. You don’t care though. 

You don’t care what other people think of you. 

But you do care what your friends think about you, your friends who still keep secrets. 

“Yeah Chrissy, why are you so nervous?” Eddie chuckles as he looks up from his magazine, glancing at the two of you. Wiggling his eyebrows at her. She glares at him and rolls her eyes, which only makes him chuckle again. 

Eddie knows why she is so nervous, it’s obvious why – well, it’s obvious to everyone but you. It didn’t take him long to figure it out. The subtle glares and the attitude he sometimes gets from the usually nice cheerleader isn’t because she doesn’t like him, it’s because she is jealous of him. Because she likes you. 

And she knows that he knows, she realized it after he started teasing her with small comments and the smug looks he would throw at her when he’d catch her checking you out. At first, she was scared. Scared that he would tell you something that she had been trying to hide for so long. Eddie promised not to tell though. 

Chrissy lies down, a small huff leaves her lips. You get on the bed and scoot closer to her, reaching for the eyeshadow brush, you dip it into the blue eyeshadow before you lean down. 

She is looking at you – staring at you. 

“Close your eyes,” you chuckle. 

“O-Oh right,” she whispers and closes her eyes. 

Eddie puts the magazine down, he leans back in his chair and puts his arm behind his head. He looks at you, you are already wearing your uniform, your hair and makeup is already done. He watches the way you bend down to get closer to Chrissy, your skirt rides up a little, exposing your spandex and more of your skin. He really really doesn’t want to look at you in that way but he can’t look away either. 

You are his friend and he really loves your friendship and how easy things are between the two of you but you are beautiful. 

And you are sexy. 

You suddenly turn around and glance at him, you catch him staring at you. Eddie’s eyes widen but he plays it cool, smirking at you. Your eyes flash with amusement, you raise your brows at him, a smirk tugs at your lips. 

“Stop staring, Munson.”

Eddie gives you a cocky grin, “I can’t look away from a beautiful sunset.”

You furrow your brows and a laugh escapes your lips, you shake your head at him, “what does that even mean, you dork?” 

You turn back around, still smiling. Chrissy snorts at his words. 

“Okay, tell any sane person to look away from two cheerleaders straddling,” he says. 

“Eddie!” Chrissy mumbles, opening her eyes to look at you with a disapproving frown. 

You grab one of your pillows and turn around, throwing it at him, “perv!” You laugh.

He catches it and presses it against his chest, he smirks at you, “can you do my eyeshadow too, sweetheart?” He jokes.

“Shut up,” you chuckle as you turn back around. You reach for your makeup bag and look for the glitter you bought when you went shopping with Robin, yesterday.

Chrissy leans on her elbows, she glances at Eddie who is checking you out again and then her eyes move back to you. She can see the shine in your eyes, the smile that you are trying to bite back, the flustered look on your face. 

It annoys her. 

Eddie is amazing and with him, you would actually be in good hands. He is a much better person than Steve ever was. He wouldn’t hurt you, especially not the way he did. Eddie makes you smile, he spends more time with you than Steve did, he buys you little presents that he surprises you with, all the time. He takes you out on dates that ‘clearly’ aren’t dates because you are just friends. Eddie comes to basketball games – he comes to basketball  games, just for you.

Eddie would be a good boyfriend, there is no doubt about that. She is not sure if you like each other or not but it seems like it. She should be happy for you and she should support it but the green eyed monster inside of her just refuses to let her be happy for you. 

“Are you excited for the party?”

Chrissy snaps out of her thoughts, she looks into your eyes again and nods. 

“Are you gonna wear the dress you bought?” 

She closes her eyes again when you lean back in with the brush. She feels your fingertips on her cheek when you tilt her face to the side. She takes in a shaky breath. 

“Should I?” 

You hum. 

“You look pretty in it.”

She smiles at your words, “I do?”

“Yes, you always do, Chris.”

She blushes and her smile grows bigger, “thank you,” she whispers. 

You smile down at her, “you’re welcome.”

After you finish her makeup, Chrissy takes her uniform and goes into your bathroom to get changed. You clean up the small mess and put away all the makeup and the brushes, you grab your favorite lipstick and walk over to the mirror, you can feel his eyes on you as you start applying the lipstick. A smile tugs at your lips, you glance at him through the mirror. He’s wearing the same smile as you. 

“What?” 

He shakes his head, scratching the back of his neck, “nothing.”

You furrow your brows, you smack your lips together and look at your reflection one more time before you turn around to face him. 

“Why are you smiling?” 

He shrugs and gets up from the chair, he grabs the green hair bow and walks towards you. 

“I like watching you get ready,” he says. 

“You do?” You smile. 

He nods, “mhmm.”

He stops in front of you and looks down at you as he holds up the green hair bow, “turn around.”

You turn around, facing the mirror again. He steps closer to you. You can smell his cologne, it’s a new one. It smells even better than the previous one he used. The smell of smoke always lingers around him though, nothing can hide the smell – not the cologne, not the aftershave, not his shampoo which surprisingly smells like apples, not the cinnamon from his favorite gum. 

Eddie’s hands are gentle, his brows are furrowed in concentration, he presses his lips together as he puts the bow in your hair. 

Something about this makes you giggle. Eddie being in your bedroom isn’t unusual but him helping you get ready for the game, putting a bow in your hair is very unusual. 

His eyes flash with amusement as he raises his head to look at your reflection in the mirror, “what’s so funny?”

You shrug and continue watching him, “just you helping me get ready for a laundry basket game.” 

He snorts. 

“I’m helping you get ready for your performance and I’m only going there for you, sweets.” 

Your heart warms at his words. 

“And then you’re also coming to the bonfire party with me.” 

“With you.” He nods. 

“Alright, I’m done,” he grins and flicks your ponytail before he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into a tight hug, leaning his chin on your shoulder, causing you to giggle again. 

You grab his forearms and lean back. 

“Do you hug all your friends that way?”

He chuckles and pulls you even closer, “nah only the special ones, babe,” he smirks and buries his face in your neck, breathing in the smell of your perfume and body wash. 

You giggle and tilt your head to the side, “how many special ones are there?” 

“Just one.”

You narrow your eyes as you turn to look at him, he smirks at you still. 

“You’re my very special one.” 

He isn’t joking about that, despite the teasing look on his face, he is saying the truth. You are special to Eddie. You haven’t been friends for that long, you started talking last summer, back in august but you have only gotten really close after your breakup with Steve. It feels like you have been friends for much longer than that though. The moment you first started hanging out, you instantly got attached to each other. Not a single day goes by when you don’t spend time together, he loves being with you and you love being with him. 

Things feel natural, easy and just good when you are with each other. 

You look into each other's eyes for a moment, not speaking, not moving, not doing anything. Sometimes that’s enough. 

A smile tugs at your lips as you look at him. His smile grows as well and before you know it, you both start laughing for no reason. 

Chrissy walks back into the room to see you in his embrace. She clenches her jaw and rolls her eyes in annoyance. She clears her throat. 

You and Eddie look away from each other, the smile still ever present on your faces. You don’t notice the jealousy or the bitterness on her face. He does. 

“Can we go?” 

You glance at Eddie who nods at you with a shrug. He is definitely not excited for the game, you told him that he doesn’t have to go but he claimed that he wants to go, for you.  

You smile at them both, “let’s go!”

-

Things between Steve and Billy were tense all night. You could tell from the moment they walked out into the gym, the glares they sent each other were more intense than usual, they wouldn’t pass on any opportunity to ‘accidentally’ bump into each other and not to mention Steve’s bleeding nose, he tried to hide it but he kept wiping his nose and you noticed the blood on the back of his hand. 

He looked angry and frustrated. You noticed it, right away. 

She didn’t. 

Despite the tension and the weird energy that surrounded one of the best players on the team, they still won against the opposing team and took another win home, which of course has to be celebrated.

Lovers Lake is filled with people, the bonfire party that had been planned for weeks is in full swing, loud music is sounding through the speakers, the smell of burning wood mixed with the smell of the crisp spring air brings you comfort. The cold months are over and the warm weather is finally approaching. 

The beer you have been drinking all night makes you feel a little tipsy but you feel calm and the stars in the sky make you smile as you lay on the grass with Eddie. He lights up a cigarette and blows the smoke up into the air. 

You turn your head and look around, a few people are sitting by the fire. You see Chrissy and Heather talking to a few girls from the cheer squad. You see Nancy sitting on a log with Jonathan, they are both laughing, leaning closer to each other, Steve is sitting on a different log, he is holding a red solo cup in his hand, he looks into the fire with a dull look on his face. 

You raise your brows, you look at the three of them. Odd. Shouldn’t he be the one next to her? Shouldn’t he be the one whispering to her? Shouldn’t he be the one making her laugh? 

“Do you think there’s more out there?” Eddie asks, pulling your attention away from him. 

“Hmm?” 

Eddie repeats his question and you turn back to look at him, he is pointing up at the sky, “like aliens and shit.”

You scoot closer to him, looking at the way he squints his eyes as he smokes. 

“Hmm, maybe,” you shrug, “I think there’s more than just aliens though.”

“Oh, do you?” He asks, turning to face you, “tell me more.”

“I think there’s other universes.”

He raises his brows, waiting for you to explain more. 

“I think there are different worlds, different versions of us – like, maybe there's a version of us fighting interdimensional monsters right now,” you joke, which he seems to love. 

His eyes light up at your words and he laughs. 

“Maybe we are slaying a dark wizard right now – what was his name again, Vecman? You know the one from your new campaign?” 

Eddie laughs loudly and he shakes his head, “it’s Vecna, sweetheart.” 

You roll your eyes and snort.

“Right, we are killing Vecna, right now.” 

“Are we normal humans or?”

“No, we have superpowers.”

“What kind of superpowers?” 

You put your finger on your chin and look up, “hmm… you got super strength, super speed,” you pause and look into his eyes, his skin looks pale beneath the moonlight, his eyes are dark. Your eyes widen, “you’re a vampire!” 

His jaw drops, his eyes widen, “I’m a vampire?” 

“Yes!”

“That means I had to die – wait! Did you bring me back from the dead? You know, since you’re a witch?”

"Absolutely,” you giggle. 

“That’s so sick, sweetheart.” 

“Right?” 

You both giggle as you stare at each other. His eyes fall to the chain around your neck, the one that he had put on you earlier tonight. He reaches his hand out and touches it. 

“Maybe we are both rockstars in a different world.” 

“Both of us?” You laugh, “I can see you being a rockstar but me?”

“Hush. You are helping me write songs and you can play guitar now – well a little, never as good as me but yeah,” he says, cockily. Smirking at you. 

You shake your head, snorting at his words. 

“Maybe you are my groupie.” 

“You wish!” You slap his shoulder, making him laugh again. 

“Okay okay, not a groupie – you are the lead singer and I’m the sexy guitarist.” 

“Mhmm.” 

You lie back again and look up at the stars, a grin takes over your face, “or maybe you are my groupie.”

“Oh absolutely, I’d totally be your groupie if you were a rockstar, y/n.”

You and Eddie are in your own little world, you always are. You don’t care about anything or anyone else when you are with each other. The rest of the world melts away when you spend time together. 

You don’t care about the people around you or the awful music that one of the jocks picked out, the prying eyes of the judging girls from the cheer squad. You just don’t care about anything. 

You don’t even notice the curious eyes of your ex boyfriend but Eddie does, after you get up to get a new drink. His eyes find a sulking Steve Harrington, who is still sitting by the fire. His girlfriend is long gone and so is her friend, Eddie doesn’t bother to look around for them. He keeps his eyes on Steve, watching the way his eyes follow you. Eddie wonders why he looks so miserable, because of Nancy and Jonathan or because of you? It seems to be the latter, he could be looking for her but instead he is watching you. 

A sigh falls from Eddie’s lips, how stupid can someone be? He wonders.

Suddenly, Steve straightens his back and his expression changes from miserable to curious and tense? He turns his head, looking right at him. Eddie raises his brows when he finds himself locking eyes with him. Steve looks confused, his eyes flicker back and forth between you and him. 

Eddie follows his gaze to see what confuses him so much. He is looking at you and at the guy who is shamelessly checking you out as you laugh at something he said to you.

Eddie snorts. Of course. If there is one thing that he got used to when going out with you then it’s you being hit on, every damn time. 

The guy is tall, probably taller than him. His shoulders are broad beneath the flannel, it’s clear that he’s some sort of athlete. He looks familiar but Eddie doesn’t recognize him. 

Curiously, Eddie watches the interaction from afar, sipping his beer. 

You are holding a drink in your hand, you have to crane your neck to look into his eyes. Eddie can see the smile on your face, you nod to whatever he is saying to you. He steps closer to you, pretending not to hear you properly, he leans closer and licks his lips when he looks down your shirt.

Eddie rolls his eyes, “douchebag.” 

The music is loud but he still hears the approaching footsteps, narrowing his eyes, he almost laughs in surprise when he sees Steve. Getting up, he dusts the grass off of his jeans and finishes his drink. 

Steve stops in front of him, when Eddie sees the look of disbelief on his face, he almost bursts out laughing. 

“I’m not selling tonight,” he mumbles. 

Steve shakes his head, furrowing his brows at his words, “I don’t wanna buy anything.”

“Oh, to what do I owe you the pleasure then, King Steve?” Eddie asks, mockingly. He expects Steve to look annoyed but he doesn’t, just very confused. 

“You’re not gonna do anything?” Steve asks. 

Eddie chuckles, his brows draw together and he tilts his head in question. 

“What do you mean?”

Steve raises his hand, pointing his finger at you and the guy who is now holding his hand out to you – you are writing something on his palm, presumably your number. 

Eddie rolls his eyes again. 

“This guy is flirting with her,” Steve mumbles.

“I’m not her keeper.” 

Now he looks even more confused, if he didn’t look so serious, Eddie would have laughed. But then he realizes why he looks at him so shocked. Steve must think that you and Eddie are dating and he doesn’t understand how he as your ‘boyfriend’ just lets you flirt with some other guy. 

Steve sighs, he turns around. Eddie watches the way he stares the guy down, a look of distaste appears on his face.

“That’s Ray, he used to be the captain of the basketball team. I always hated that guy.” Steve mumbles. 

That’s a lie. Steve used to look up to him, when he was a freshman in high school and he was new on the team, Ray had seemed like the coolest guy around, he was the most popular guy at school, the girls loved him, the boys wanted to be like him and so did Steve until he became popular too and he realized that he could be even better than him. Ray was just a popular guy but Steve Harrington became the King of the school. 

A title he used to be so proud of is just an embarrassing part of his past now. 

Steve is certain that you and Eddie are dating. He could just ask to be sure but he thinks that it’s too obvious. You are dating. But why are you flirting with the former captain of the basketball team? Why are you writing your number on his hand? Are you in an open relationship with Eddie? 

An open relationship is something you never approved of, you always made that very clear, not that Steve suggested something like this. Tommy always joked about it to Carol and you looked disgusted and always voiced your opinions on it. 

What happened? 

Did the hurt change you so much?

Ray walks away from you and you turn around, walking back to Eddie when someone else steps in front of you and both Eddie and Steve sigh in annoyance. 

Billy Hargrove. Always there to ruin the night. 

“Getting bored of the freak?” 

The smile on your face falls, a sour expression takes over and you tense up. You can’t stand Billy. Not only does he keep trying to get in your pants while he has a thing going on with your friend, he also keeps insulting Eddie and picking fights with Steve, which shouldn’t be any of your concerns but something tells you that Steve’s bleeding nose and the bruise on Billy’s jaw has got something to do with you. 

“Fuck off, Billy,” you mumble, trying to move past him. He doesn’t let you. He steps in front of you and chuckles. 

“Don’t be like that, baby.”

You scrunch your face up in disgust, “don’t call me that.”

His eyes move up and down, he looks at your exposed skin and you suddenly regret wearing a low cut shirt. 

“Ray Parker, huh?” He smirks, licking his lips, “going for the jocks again? The freak ain’t doing a good job at satisfying you? You know, you can just come to me instead of going for some retired team captain.”

“Jesus, shut up, Billy.”

Billy chuckles, his eyes twinkle with lust as he continues to stare at you, “when will you stop playing hard to get? We both know that you will end up under me at some point.” 

If you didn’t feel disgusted by him already, you would definitely be now. Anger rushes through you and you roll your eyes. 

“Keep dreaming, Hargrove.” 

"Oh, I will." 

You clench your jaw as you look into his blue eyes. You hate the cocky look on his face, the self assured expression that he always has. The smirk that he wears. God, you want to punch him. 

You go to walk past him and surprisingly, he lets you walk away this time but then he says something that makes your blood boil. 

“Yeah be a good girl and run back to the freak, no one else will fuck that loser.” 

You halt in your tracks and you clench your fists. You had always been protective over your friends but especially him. Eddie may be good at pretending that the bullying doesn’t get to him, he learned to ignore them or to throw some punchlines back but you are not going to stand by and watch how others degrade and belittle him. 

You turn back around and his smirk grows when he notices how angry you look. 

“I never thought you’d be into some trailer trash a–” 

You never punched someone before but you always wanted to know what it feels like to slam your fist into someone’s face, someone that you can’t stand. You didn’t think that it would hurt so bad but the look on his face and the bruise that he will wear later on, makes it all worth it. 

His head snaps to the side and he looks stunned for a moment. 

You hear the gasps around you, the chuckles from a few boys. 

A part of you expects him to hit you back, you are no stranger to his anger issues. The reaction you get isn’t one that you expected though. He furrows his brows and suddenly he bursts into laughter, his eyes flash with amusement and his pupils dilate even further. 

You want to punch him again. 

“Shit baby, I’m even more into you now,” he smirks. 

A groan of disgust falls from your lips and you turn around to leave before he can do or say anything else. 

Eddie and Steve stand there with stunned looks on their faces. Eddie looks impressed and proud, a smirk is tugging at his lips. 

Steve’s cheeks are flushed, his eyes are wide and his lips are parted in surprise. Out of all the things he expected to see tonight, this wasn’t one of them. The feeling that rushes through him is intense. 

You should have punched him a long time ago. 

“That’s kinda hot.”

Eddie snorts at Steve’s words. 

Yeah, it was hot. 

“Damn, sweetheart,” Eddie whistles, smirking as you walk back to him. He sees the way your eyes flash with confusion when you notice Steve next to him. “I didn’t know you had such a mean right hook.”

You roll your eyes, laughing. You don't even acknowledge him.

“He had that coming.” 

Eddie throws his arm around you, he pulls you into his chest and leans down to kiss your cheek sloppily, not caring that your ex boyfriend is staring. 

“That’s my girl.”

He wonders what Billy said to you to make you this mad. 

“You gonna hit me next, big girl?” Eddie jokes. 

You giggle, biting down on your lip, you look into Eddie’s amused eyes, completely dismissing his presence. You pull away from him, he looks at you curiously, eyeing the smugness in your eyes. Before he can react, you reach your arm behind him and slap his ass. 

Eddie’s jaw drops at the smack he received, he snorts at your action, squinting his eyes at you, he tries to give you a mean look which only makes you giggle again. You step back when you realize what he’s about to do. Just as he tries to swat your ass, you run off, giggling. 

Eddie doesn’t hesitate to run after you, trying to catch you. Your laughter is loud as you run away from him, pushing past the groups of people as you near the forest.

Steve's brows are still raised and his face is still stunned. 

Many emotions went through him today; anger, sadness, irritation, jealousy but mostly confusion.

He watches Eddie grabbing you from behind, he hears your squeal and he sees the way Eddie kisses your cheek, again.

He blinks and forces himself to look away, only now noticing how wrong it still feels to see you with him.

But it's not wrong, right?

It's not wrong because you aren't his anymore.

He let go of you because you had asked him to, because he loves her, because he wants to spend his life with her.

He still has love for you, he always will but you are a part of his past now, a past that keeps calling him. The past that keeps haunting him in his mind and in his dreams.

Sometimes when he can't sleep at night, he stares at the telephone on his nightstand and he wonders what it would be like to call you, to hear your voice again, to ask you how you are doing, to ask if you are happy with the life you are living now that you are strangers to each other.

Sometimes he wants to call but he never does. You won't pick up the phone. He is sure of that.

But, if you called, he would pick up the phone, anytime, without hesitation.

next chapter

-

tagging friends & mutuals

@mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @corrodedseraphine @corrodedcorpses @hellfire--cult @screammunson @taintedcigs @take-everything-you-can @sherrylyn628 @nemesis729 @xxhellfiregirlxx @trashmouth-richie @somethingvicked

[haikyu-mp4]

The Guess Monster legacy

Your son wants to play volleyball, like his stepdad Tendo, for my Parenting event<3

requested by @sharkissm. word count; 504 – gn!reader

There was only one week left until your son was going back to school when he announced:

“I want to play volleyball.”

He looked surprised when you and Satori gasped simultaneously and turned to him. Satori was already tearing up, thinking of the summer he had spent getting to know his stepson even more after moving in with you two.

Satori could be a lot, so he did his best to tone it down while your son got used to having an extra person in the household. Even if they got along well before the wedding, he didn’t want the kid to think he was trying too hard to be a father figure to him just because they lived together now.

However, he found one thing to bond over: Passing a volleyball in the yard. Obviously, a volleyball lay amongst the things Satori brought when he moved in, and it awakened a curiosity in the active young boy. Spending time together like this gave Satori the opportunity to teach him some technique, while also giving them time alone to talk.

You would typically be off doing something else when this happened, lending your two favourite people some guy time.

Halfway through the summer vacation, they got to the point where a cheap net was put up in the yard, and Satori started giving some pointers on blocking.

So now, as your son expressed that this shared time had indeed left its trace on him, Satori couldn’t contain himself when he abandoned the laundry he was folding with you to squeeze your son in a hug.

They immediately started researching places that offered training after school, which then led to seeing which middle school he should pick for next year. You’d watch them sit huddled together, Satori’s excitement equal to his stepson’s, and nothing could have made you happier.

Few parents would attend volleyball games, but you and Satori came to as many as possible. Sometimes, you had no choice but to stay late at work instead, but Tendo would be just as insistent on coming to watch his stepson.

Let’s just say there’s a new Guess Monster around and he’s wearing that same purple uniform, because you learnt a few years later that your dear husband started saving up the very same day your son told him he wanted to play volleyball, so that he would have the option of going to any school he wanted when the time came.

In his first high school game, someone on the team asked your son who that red-haired guy singing in the bleachers was. “That’s my stepdad. He was a starting player, and middle blocker for Ushijima when they went here. They’re best friends,” he answered with pride, and you had to hand Satori the napkins much earlier than expected to dry his tears.

His stepson isn’t embarrassed of him at all. That little weirdo on the court who sang teasing songs for his opponents was happy to be a Tendo, carrying on his stepdad’s legacy.

masterlist

for the requester: this was one of my favourite requests for this event, I hope I did it justice<3 thank you for participating!

[luxaofhesperides]

For the ghostlights drabbles: “Say my name” with a favor being called in?

Duke had saved Phantom years ago, back when he was just out of high school and working to take down a branch of the government that was kidnapping and experimenting on people, targeting magic users and metas. Phantom had been working on his own to take them down, and they met in the middle, trashing a lab and freeing as many people as they could.

They had managed to shoot his back, knocking him down and making him bleed a glowing green. Phantom couldn’t move, protecting two kids with his body, and Duke couldn’t reach them in time before they were taken away by another swarm of agents. 

He was able to go after them in time, free Phantom and the kids, and evacuated the victims before Phantom rained hell down on the facility.

At the end, standing in the background as they watched paramedics treat the victims and take them towards the nearest hospitals, Phantom had turned towards him and thanked him.

Or rather, he thanked the Signal and offered him a bracelet with a rounded orb of ice, glowing faintly in the dark. If you ever need me, he had said, Hold this, and call me name.

Phantom vanished once the last of the victims were transported to a safer location, and Duke hadn’t seen him since.

He’s kept up with news about Phantom as best he can, but from what he could tell, Phantom is based primarily in Amity Park, Illinois, and the town is fiercely protective of their hero. News rarely leaks out of there, and with them running on their own servers and independent internet, it was nearly impossible to get in from the outside. 

Phantom remained a curious and distant figure in Duke’s life. He holds onto the bracelet still, guarding it carefully and sometimes running his fingers over the ice that never melts.

But he doesn’t call in that favor. He’s never to.

At least, not until now.

Sucking in a breath, Duke prepares himself and holds the orb of ice in the palm of his hand. He’s in civies, unable to hide his identity for this, and closes his eyes. “Phantom,” he says.

For a moment, nothing happens. Duke blinks his eyes open and frowns, mind already forming new plans to contact Phantom. Then the ice goes bitingly cold, almost painful, and the temperature in the room drops dramatically. The ice lifts up from his hand, floating in the air, then cracks open.

White-blue light spills out of it, growing brighter as it seems to swallow up the room entirely. Duke hurries to back up, an arm thrown up to protect his eyes. His breath mists out before him and he shivers as the sound of ice cracking fills the room.

And then, just as suddenly as it started, the light disappears and the cold fades away like a bad dream. 

Slowly, Duke lowers his arm and looks up at Phantom, floating in the middle of his living room with a crown made of ice, engulfed in blue fire, hovers above his head. He looks older, more regal, holding his head high. 

He regards Duke carefully for a minute, then tilts his head and says, “Signal?”

“Yeah, it’s me. Man, I’m so glad you came.”

“You… need help with something? You’re calling in your favor now, right?”

Duke nods. He understands Phantom’s confusion; being in the hero business means that favors like these tend to be used only during the most hopeless of times, when the world is close to ending, when the chances of getting out of a situation alive is close to impossible. It’s exactly the kind of thing Duke was expecting to call Phantom in for.

Not the kid sleeping on his couch.

“You’re a ghost, yeah?”

Phantom blinks at him. “Ghost king, now. Why?”

“Well…” Duke rubs the back of his neck, nervously. “I didn’t really know who else to call, and I can’t do this on my own since I’m not a ghost. But this kid got attached to me and won’t leave, so now I’m taking care of her and I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“I don’t know why you think I have any experience with kids but—”

“She’s a ghost.”

Phantom stops short. “Ah. I see.” He floats down until his feet touch the floor, and then he’s standing like any other person. “Where…?”

Duke looks past Phantom’s shoulder, and Phantom turns to follow his gaze. Chelsea, the ghost girl, looks to be around nine years old and is fast asleep on the couch, curled up under Duke’s softest blanket.

“Signal,” Phantom says quietly, “What, exactly, is the favor you need from me?”

“You can say no,” Duke starts. “I get that this is a lot. But I need help raising her. And since you’re a ghost, I figured you could help me learn about the ghostly side of things. You don’t have to raise her with me or anything! Just… I would appreciate any help you’re willing to give me.”

Phantom doesn’t say no. He doesn’t say anything. He just stares down at Chelsea, an unreadable expression on his face. 

On the couch. Chelsea shifts in her sleep, brows furrowing as she makes a choked noise in the back of her throat.

Moving on autopilot after so many nights of this routine, Duke kneels next to the couch, fishing one of her hands from beneath the blanket. He gives it a few reassuring squeezes, keeping it a slow rhythm to pull her gently from her nightmare. She settles down in just a minute, brow smoothing out as she continues to sleep. 

The silence grows and Duke is all too aware that his heart is the only one beating. 

He doesn’t hear Phantom move. Doesn’t realize he’s right next to him until he sees Phantom’s hand reach out towards Chelsea. When Duke looks, Phantom is sitting on the floor next to Duke, looking at Chelsea with something soft and devastated in his eyes. His hand hovers about her head for a long moment, then slowly lowers to rest on her head. 

The touch looks gently, barely putting any pressure on her head, but it’s enough to make Chelsea’s eyes snap open, suddenly wide awake. She stares at Phantom with wide eyes, then sits up and looks between him and Duke.

“Who are you?” she asks in a small voice that makes Duke want to stand against the world to keep her safe. 

Phantom smiles. It’s casual and charming and makes him look like anyone else, as if he’s not a powerful king from a realm unreachable to humans. “Hi there,” he says, “I’m Danny. I’m a ghost like you. Signal called me and asked me to meet you.”

The Ghost King is good with kids. Who would have thought?

Chelsea looks at him for confirmation and only relaxes when he nods. “I’m Chelsea. What do you mean ghost? I’m not dead.”

Both he and Phantom tense, carefully keeping their expressions neutral. She hasn’t told him much at all, just that her parents were gone and forgot her and she got hurt, so she wanted to stay with ‘Mr. Signal’ because he’s a hero and heroes keep people safe and he was the only one who was Black like her. Duke hadn’t had the heart to say no, and began searching for her family, only to find that her parents had fled the state, and likely the country, after killing their only child through neglect and a dangerous environment. 

It was then that he realized that her powers were not because she was a meta, but because she was ghost.

It still hurts to realize how young she is, how much of her life had been stolen from her in an instant. Duke hadn’t been brave enough to broach the topic with her, instead choosing to let her grow comfortable in his presence, get them both settled into a routine now that he was her primary guardian. 

“I know it sounds scary,” Phantom says, “And you may not want to believe me, but it’s true. I’m sorry that you died so young, but that just means you get to hang out with me and other ghosts from now on!”

Chelsea crosses her arms over her chest and glares at him. “I am not dead,” she says.

“Cici, I’m sorry to say this, but you are,” Duke cuts in. “That’s why I called… Danny. You have new powers as a ghost, and he can help you get used to them.”

“I’m not dead!” she says again.

“Kid,” Phantom begins, but Chelsea shakes her head hard and hops off the couch.

“I’m not lying! Watch, I’ll prove it to you!” She closes her eyes and scrunches up her nose, concentrating. Her hands curl into tight fists by her sides, and the glow around her grows dim. Two faint, stuttering rings of light appear around her waist. They flicker and wobble in the air, as if weak and uncertain of their own existence, then split apart, one moving up towards her head while the other falls to her feet.

Beside him, Phantom sucks in a sharp breath, but Duke can’t turn to see what’s wrong when he’s trying to take in the sight of Chelsea suddenly full of vibrant color, looking more solid that he’s ever seen her, very much alive.

“See?” she says proudly, lifting her arms and doing a spin to show off her right she was. “I told you I’m not dead!”

“No, you’re not,” Phantom agrees, sounding shell-shocked. When Duke is finally able to look away from Chelsea to check on him, he looks awed. There’s the smallest smile on his face, just the slightest upturn of his lips, but it makes him look softer.

Duke turns his attention back to Chelsea before he can be caught staring. “Cici, can you come here for a second?”

She goes before he’s finished speaking, crossing the space between them in a single jump, then grins up at him. Her hair is a bit of a mess, the two buns he managed to get her hair into falling askew. He makes a note to visit the old aunties in the Narrows later to ask them to teach him how to do hair. For now, he holds out a hand and Chelsea drops an arm into it.

It seems to good to be true, having her be alive, but her pulse is steady and strong when he presses his thumb against the inside of her wrist. 

“Well,” he says, leaning back and letting go of her arm. “You certainly proved us wrong.”

Chelsea doesn’t have much time to look smug before PHantom quietly says, “You’re like me.”

“What?”

“You’re like me,” he tells Chelsea. “A halfa.”

She tilts her head to one side. “What’s that?”

“Someone who is half human and half ghost. Both dead and alive.”

Duke blinks, taking in the words, then turns to face Phantom so quickly he’s worried he might give himself whiplash. Halfa, he said. Like me, he said. 

And sure enough, two rings of light, bright and strong, appear around Phantom’s waist before splitting in half, moving over his entire body. 

Gone is the Ghost King, all powerful and adorned in dark clothing with a crown of ice above his head. In his place is a guy who looks to be Duke’s age, eyes a deep blue and his black hair messy, feet set solidly on the floor. He looks completely normal, completely human, and no longer an impossibility.

“You still up for learning how to use all your new powers?” Phantom asks.

Chelsea grins. “Yeah!” And then, with a quick flick of her eyes going from Phantom to Duke that he almost misses, very innocently asks, “Are you going to stay with us then?”

“I… don’t know?” Phantom looks to Duke for an answer.

Already, Duke can see this going two ways. The correct way forward, the normal one, has Phantom popping in every so often, taking Chelsea out for a few hours to work on training her and her powers. It’s easy and routine and they can keep their boundaries uncrossed and be professional. 

The other path is what Duke wants most that he shouldn’t impose onto the literal Ghost King. He could have Phantom living with them while he’s on Earth and out of Amity Park, having a place at the table, a section in the closet for his own clothes, a quietly domestic night together while Chelsea sleeps where they can get to know each other more, get to know each other outside of news reports and texts on a screen.

“You can stay with us if you want,” Duke offers, casually, “It might keep my apartment safe from her powers acting up on their own again.”

“Are you sure? I could always just fly in on the weekends or something.”

“I’d appreciate having you around. So you can help Cici.”

“If you don’t mind,” Phantom says, looking away. Like this, fully alive with a beating heart, it’s easy to see the blush steal away across his cheeks. 

“I don’t.”

“I don’t either!” Chelsea pops in, looking far too gleeful by their awkward conversation.

Duke can’t help but laugh, feeling lighter than he had in ages. The relief of knowing that Chelsea is alive, for the most part at least, eases the guilt of thinking he had been too late to save her, that there was no chance she could have made it out and had a future, makes him feel weak. All the exhaustion of the past few weeks hits him all at once and he wants nothing more than to collapse in bed and sleep for twelve hours.

“Alright, squirt,” he says, reaching out to pat her head. “It’s late. We can talk more in the morning, so go to bed. In your actual bed this time, not on the couch.”

Chelsea stands up taller, ready to argue, but Duke gives her a Look™ and she quickly shuts her mouth, nods, and drags her feet back to her room (the former guestroom he can never give any of the other Waynes ever again, once they find out about her). 

Sighing, Duke collapses onto the couch once he hears the door shut behind her. Phantom joins him after a few seconds, sitting tentatively on the edge of the couch. The cushion moves beneath his weight, another reminder of how solid and alive he is right not.

Duke wants to touch him, to reach out and feel for himself his pulse, the warmth of his body, his chest lifting with each breath. 

He doesn’t move. He stays where he is, hands carefully still, and tries to think past the dizzying thoughts of she’s still alive, I’m not too late, he’s still here, he’s alive.

“Rough week?” Phantom asks, voice purposefully light.

“Something like that.”

“You should get some sleep too.”

“I don’t think I can. Not after everything. My mind’s too loud right now.”

Phantom shifts closer to him, hesitant in a way that Duke has never seen before in him, and asks, “Want me to stay with you until you mind quiets down some?”

“Yeah. I’d like that. Thanks, Phantom.”

“You know, if I’m going to be around so often as Chelsea’s halfa mentor, then you might as well call me Danny.”

Truth be told, Duke didn’t think that was his real name. He’s glad to know it’s not. 

“Then call me Duke.”

“...Are you sure? You could still hide your identity from me.”

“Nah, I trust you. A name for a name, yeah?”

Danny smiles. “Duke,” he says, testing out the name, and it’s never sounded better than when it falls from Danny’s mouth.

“Danny,” Duke returns. He belatedly realizes that they’ve leaned towards each other, drawn together like gravity, stuck in each other’s orbit. It feels natural. It feels like this is where they’re meant to be.

Maybe he should be more cautious. They’ve only meant once before, after all. But he’s read all he could on Phantom and has seen how Amity Park loves him. He’s stressed and exhausted and trying to figure out how to look after a half-ghost child that’s already been dealt a bad hand in life. He should be keeping Phantom at a distance, watching over him carefully to ensure he isn’t a threat to Chelsea.

But Duke saw how he acted with Chelsea, so gentle and understanding and kind. That’s all he needed to see.

He may not know much about Danny, but he knows this: he is trustworthy.

Enough to entrust his identity to him.

Enough to entrust Chelsea to him.

It’s more than a favor; it’s a promise to walk this road together. 

There’s no one he’d rather do this with. 

“Thanks,” he says again, “For all of this. I know it’s a lot.”

Danny shrugs. “I don’t mind. Really. It’s nice to know there’s another halfa out there, no matter how she came to be one. Makes things feel less lonely.”

“Will you tell me more about halfas?”

“Later. Once you get some proper rest. We’ve got time, haven’t we?”

“We do,” Duke agrees, affection settling warm in his chest. “We’ve got plenty of time.”

Learning how to control her new powers won’t be easy for Chelsea. Learning how to take care of her won’t be easy. Learning how to do things together, as Duke and Danny rather than the Signal and Phantom, won’t be easy. But Duke knows with a certainty he feels in his bones that they’re going to be fine.

So long as they’ve got each other, they’ll be fine.

[fandomfucker]

Judgement Day x reader Where the reader is an absolute cuddle bug, but is afraid they might be too clingy. So Judgement Day assure them that they love how cuddly they are?

Word Count: 2,053

Reader's POV

Ever since I was a child, I was extremely touchy. I always felt the need to be not only emotionally close to all my friends and family but also physically close.

I would hug each of my friends at least twice a day, along with my teachers and parents and my usually unwilling siblings.

I was able to calm down a bit by the time I got to middle school, restraining myself from hugging just my family members and my friends who were used to it by now. High fives and wrapped arms around shoulders and waists became a norm for anyone interacting with me.

In high school, I had better learned to keep my hands to myself, only occasionally hugging my friends. But, my friend group was also a bunch of pretty touchy people so sitting next to each other with our legs touching, or laying down with our head in the lap of the other while they finger-brushed our hair was a norm for us within our friend group.

I had accepted long ago that my love language was touch but that it wasn't for everyone. One potential partner in high school even broke things off because of how touchy I am. They said it was suffocating and just 'way too much'.

Touchiness has never been an issue with my four wonderful partners now, though. Rhea, Dominik, Damian, and Finn all seemed to appreciate my touches and would even go out of their way to be closer to me sometimes.

And I love and appreciate them all for it.

My partners are all very aware of my need for touch. So, on days when I get home from work, both physically and mentally exhausted, they'll center me a a big group hug until I feel better.

When I wake up in the morning, Dominik smothers me in hugs and kisses, usually ending in hours-long cuddles until we're forced to move.

Damian often has me sit in his lap, no matter where we are. A party, backstage at a WWE show, or just hanging out in the living room of our house.

Whenever I had a particularly bad day Finn would shower me with affection, figuratively and literally. He would help me take a shower, giving me small kisses on my shoulders all the while, before giving my shoulders a massage in our bedroom.

Rhea was surprisingly the most touchy out of all my partners. She constantly had to have a hand on my waist, shoulder, arm, thigh, you name it she was touching it. She's very protective and always had to make sure that not only was she giving me what I needed, but also making sure everyone else knew I was hers as well.

The doubts didn't start until about six months into our five-way relationship when I had been at home on the couch scrolling through social media while the four of them were at Monday Night RAW.

My for you page had decided to randomly show me a video of someone who had compiled a bunch of videos and pictures of me with my partners. They had all zoomed in on my partners' faces whenever I specifically was touching them and not the other way around. The person who made the video was saying "Look at how uncomfortable the Judgment Day looks. Y/n needs to stop fucking touching them and leave them alone."

The video instilled a spark of fear in me as I read all the comments agreeing with the original poster and for the next three hours I went down a rabbit hole of TikTok videos through the search from the original video; "Y/n Y/l/n being clingy".

There were at least a hundred different TikTok videos talking about it, with tons of comments throughout. I found videos so long that they had to post them on YouTube in which what they said about me was even worse because guidelines are a bit more lax.

For those three hours until my partners got home, I watched all the mean videos, read all the mean comments, saw all the mean posts, tweets, edits, etc, and sobbed as I realized that my partners probably were just doing it all because I wanted to and that they actually just hated me.

A little after midnight I heard the garage door open and Rhea's truck as they pulled into the driveway. I threw my blanket off my lap and sprinted up the stairs to our master bath. I needed to make it look like I hadn't been crying the entire time so I threw myself into the shower, making the water as hot as possible.

3rd Person POV

The four members of the Judgment Day walked through the door, into the house doing their best to stay quiet as with all the lights off they figured their partner was probably already asleep.

Hearing a noise coming from the living room, Dominik curiously made his way towards the couch, beginning to move around blankets and pillows.

Y/n's phone fell out of a blanket and bounced onto the thick carpet floor, it's face glowing up at the ceiling as a TikTok video played on a loop.

Hearing the clunk from the phone hitting the floor, Dominik tossed the blanket he was holding back onto the couch before bending down to grab the phone.

Mention of The Judgment Day along with Y/n's name made Dominik pause, focusing on the video playing. 

"I mean, just look at their body language whenever Y/n touches them. They all always just look so uncomfortable."

Dominik watched in disbelief, as he beckoned the other Judgment Day members over to him. The group has always been pretty out about their relationship and some of them about their sexualities so haters were a norm but it was beginning to cross a line by hating their partner, who wasn't in the spotlight at all.

He beckoned the other three JD members over as the video began to play from the beginning again, holding the phone out for them all to watch.

They all watched the video in concern, Damian took the phone out of Dom's hands once it was over and began to backtrack, looking at what had previously been watched before that video.

There were several more videos about this particular topic at hand which the four of them scrolled through with growing disgust.

After several minutes of this, Rhea had a thought. "Where's Y/n?" She asked the group in a small panic.

They all looked at each other in concern before Rhea bolted up the stairs, yelling their partner's name, the boys quickly following suit.

Reader's POV

I was still in the shower about ten minutes after I had heard the garage door open and my partners come in when I began to hear Rhea screaming my name as four sets of footsteps thudded up the stairs, becoming louder as they got closer to the bathroom.

Banging soon began against the door as they all reached it. I heard each of my partners distressedly shouting my name, Rhea, however, being the loudest.

I turned the water off in a rush, wrapped my towel around myself, and got out of the shower. I fumbled with the lock, unlocking it before swinging the door open in a rush. I was met with the four panicky faces of my partners.

"What's going on, is everything okay?" I asked, genuinely confused.

Rhea rushed forward, pulling me into a tight hug. My face was squished into her chest (not that I'm complaining) and was squished even further when my other three partners came around to join the group hug.

"Guys?" I asked nervously, tilting my head up and resting my chin on Rhea's collarbone so that I could see all of their faces above me.

Finn spoke aloud for the group from my left, "Love, you left your phone open downstairs. We saw what you were looking at."

The blood would have drained from my face had it not all rushed there as the tears began to fall again.

I dropped my chin off of Rhea's chest and covered my face with my hands, the top of my head now resting against her chest instead. The four of them hugged me tighter in attempted comfort which only made me feel worse.

They hated me hugging them and just generally being all over them all the time and were now hugging me to make me feel better.

"I-I'm sorry. P-please don't be m-mad," I managed to get out through the massive sobs. I began trying to push away, out of the hug barricade they'd created around me but I wasn't able to turn around very well with how tight it was, and Rhea's way too strong to move when she doesn't want to be moved.

"We're not mad, Princesa," Damian spoke gently from behind me. That just made me cry even harder.

I was crying so hard that I was struggling to breathe. My four partners kept me close and I could feel someone stroking my hair before someone gripped my hips and turned my body to face them. 

I dropped my hands from my face to my partner's waist, realizing who it was.

Looking up, my wet, red-rimmed, eyes were met with Dominik's wide brown ones. "Hey, hey." He shushed me softly. "Those videos are fake, mi amore. Okay? We all love how touchy you are. We love your hugs and kisses and all your little touches. If we didn't we wouldn't reciprocate them."

My sobs turned to sniffles at his sweet words. He gave me a small smile as he brought a hand up to my cheek, wiping away any remaining tears from my face with his thumb. 

I closed my eyes in acceptance, another tear or two slipping out at the action which Dominik was quick to swipe away. "We mean it, Cariño," Damian spoke up again, now on my right. "We love you and your cuddliness," He reassured me, his lips kept close against my hair as he gently pried me away from Dominik and tucked me into him.

"Promise?" I questioned faintly. It was directed generally towards all four of them.

I felt Rhea's hands snake around my waist, gently swaying me towards her a bit, "We promise. We love you so much and nothing and nobody will ever change that." She gave my temple a lingering kiss, squeezing my waist before turning me towards Finn.

"Don't listen to those morons on social media, love. We're just constantly uncomfortable on camera, especially around you just because we're worried about you. There's a lot of people and a lot going on and it can get overwhelming so we're a bit on edge trying to protect ya'." He explained smoothly as he brushed a few stray hairs off of my forehead and back behind my ear.

With their protective natures, this explanation did make a lot of sense. I mean, one time Rhea actually almost fought a fan at the airport because of how close he was to me despite, me telling him to get away. I guess them being my own personal bodyguards would make them a bit tense.

"Come on, as much as I hate to say it, let's get some clothes on you and put you to bed," Rhea ordered, shoving the boys out of the way to lead me back into the bathroom. I giggled at her statement, flushing bright red as she winked at me before closing the door to the bathroom, leaving me alone again as I quickly dried off and threw on some of my partners' clothes I'd stolen.

Coming out of the bathroom I saw all four of my wonderful partners seated on the edges of our giant bed, waiting for me to get into the middle for cuddles.

I grinned and got a running start, jumping full force onto the bed. Dominik made an exaggerated 'oomph' sound as I landed, causing Damian to swat the back of his head.

Laughing at my partners' antics, I crawled under the covers before opening my arms, signaling that I was ready for the puppy pile of cuddles I was about to receive.

I made my own 'oomph' sound as Dominik flopped on top of my chest, grinning wickedly as he playfully glared at me before sticking his face into my neck.

With all four of my partners now lying on top of me or next to me to some degree, I'd never felt safer or more comfortable.

Drifting off to sleep I only had one more thought.

"I love you guys."

[jadeyarts]

Any Cass headcanons? And if not then backup ask any headcanons for the kid Peri/Foxglove godparent for?

yessss! i do have quite a few thoughts abt cass :]

cass's full name is cassidy annie mae mcbadbat. annie mae is a name bucky came up with when cass asks bucky what he would have named her if she had been a cis girl - but she didn't like it as a first name so she made it her middle name instead. bucky is extremely supportive of her transition - although sometimes he gets a little weepy when cass starts looking a bit more like her mom.

she first started having an inkling that she might be a girl in high school - when she realizes she misses using the emergency couple kit. though it takes her a while to realize that maybe she misses the girl part of being the girlfriend and at first thinks maybe she just misses having a boyfriend. she does figure it out in college though, and that's when she starts transitioning. i think she briefly dates aj but they realize that they're better as just friends cuz they want different things.

i also think aj is probably the one providing her with hrt because lets be honest, aj likes to have his thumb in every metaphorical scientific pie and it'd probably be SUPER easy to make E in his secret lab. lmao.

kind of still debating whether i'm still going with the musical artist idea for cass i had for my Other adult chester idea - it provides a pretty decent excuse for how she and remy could meet up as adults and get close enough to become a couple... cuz i have a soft spot for them... of course there's also the option that they just coincidentally run into each other and hit it off and then tabloids go crazy about cass being a "modern day cinderella" which would be really funny. giggles. okay. indecisive about that part!

i do have a draft for the godkid i made for spoopy godparents but i need to see if i can find the concept sketches first lol

[1427]

i love you (always forever) pt.1

Daryl Dixon x sister!OFC

Summary: In the winter of ‘95 Daddy died. Leaving Lady to finish up her senior year in high school, and Daryl to brood over when to sell the house. The summer of ‘96 is the first time Lady feels alive. Daryl wants to give her one last summer before she has to grow up for real.

He gave her anything she asked for that summer.

Setting: Doublewide on some lone property in the middle of the woods, Georgia. Summer 1996

Warnings: INCEST (like it's the whole thing), virgin!oc, drug use (a joint), underage drinking, TENSION, poorly written SMUT, masturbation (f), lite!somno, oral (m receiving), some leering (??); most of the smut will be in part two. 

Word Count: 6.1k

A/n: INCEST I'll say it again. if it's not your thing, or can’t ever be your thing, DON’T READ IT. 

I didn't write it. I simply lived it in my head and documented (I wrote it but it felt like I didn't have a choice). 

Lady, Daryl calls her Lay, Bug

She calls him Bub, Bubba

// part 2 //

MDNI 18+ 

Wind chimes. Soft like the breeze. The heat of the Georgia in June. Daddy died this past winter, and Lady’d never had a summer feel so much like a hug. Finally able to really breathe again. Like a little kid. Magic around every corner. She swore sometimes, when she looked out the window in the dead of night, that she could see the faeries dancing out back in the woods. For a few years they'd gone, but this year they were back again.

Just her and Daryl (and the deer, and the squirrels, and the mice, and obviously the mosquitos, and sometimes the faeries); Like it shoulda always been. Like it always kinda was. After Merle left and all. Got older, moved out. Daryl stayed, though. Past his 18th birthday, and a few more after that. Didn’t wanna leave Lady all by herself with their old man. Couldn’t. 

Now he couldn’t really leave her alone in the house, even though she’d turned 18 last fall. Doesn’t even cross his mind. 

Lady’s finally done with school for good unless she decides she wants to go to college. First one in the whole damn family and no one but Daryl was there to see it.  Daryl quit his job as soon as Daddy died. Even if Daddy didn't have a few dollars in his bank account he didn’t know about, Lady figures he would have anyway. 

Daryl thought about selling the house but… not yet. 

He knew he was putting a pause on his life for this summer with Lady, but his whole life had been on pause til now anyway. Knows that when it’s over, it’s all over. Her whole childhood, their whole upbringing. Their dad dyin’ was just the bow ontop to seal the deal. They’d both think of it as the end. For the rest of her life, Lay’ll know this is when she had to grow up for real. So Daryl wouldn’t sell the house until Lady had her last summer as a kid with nothin’ to worry about. 

The heat was starting to get unbearable. 

“Lay!” Daryl yells, standing above a bed she'd made up in the living room. Dad had always kept the one lone air conditioner in his room, in front of the tv, in front of the recliner, in front of the bed. Lady had the idea to hang sheets on the doors to the living room and make a bed on the floor big enough for both of them to sleep in. She forgot the pillows, though, and now she was nowhere to be found. 

Daryl put down the tools he’d been using to fix the a/c to the window, pushing past the pink floral sheet between the living room and the hall toward the bedrooms, “Lay!” He quickly paces the double wide but she’s no where. 

Left a towel on her bed though, so Daryl’s got a good guess where she went. Swimmin’. 

It’s about a half miles walk, so it’s pretty far to just up and leave like that without saying anything, but Lady did it all the time. Like the creek was her own personal bathtub. Daryl’s not annoyed, not really. But he walks the half mile like he is anyway. Why couldn’t she just let him know? Because then he wouldn’t have to make sure this is where she went. And he wouldn’t have to bring her the towel she forgot. 

Daryl walks down and sure enough Lady’s shoulder deep in the muddy creek water, her clothes and shoes all bundled up on the dirt a few feet in front of him. She’s faced away, and at first doesn’t hear him come up. 

Lady tried to sneak away without being noticed to have a private moment. Like momma taught her. You’re allowed to touch yourself like that, but you can’t do it around other people. Momma said as long as you can be in private, it’s alright. 

Lady didn’t mean to forget her towel, but she almost assumed Daryl would find her anyway. She’d been fast though, always was. Was easy with the hormones. 18 and learning all new kinds of feelings. Merle always called her a late bloomer. Not being interested in boys until recently. She thought about the boys at school, and their plush lips on the soft skin of her shoulder, the protection in their arm wrapped around her waist, the butterfly light kiss of their eyelashes on her stomach. 

It didn’t take much for Lady to feel somethin’. Not in this heat, not with the breeze of freedom prickling every inch of her skin. 

Daryl can’t tell what she’s doing. All he sees is her shoulders barely moving in the lake, her head above the water and facing away from him. “Lay!” 

Daryl’s voice cascades through the air a few seconds after Lady, with a barely there mew, has her orgasm. Lady’s kisses with pleasure are soft, new, wanting. Like a light peck instead of a deep kiss. A soft mist instead of a thunderstorm. Lady only knew sweetness, even in her private moments. 

She’s beaming from ear to ear as she turns around to face him, making sure to keep her body covered by the water, “Bubba, what? I’m just swimmin’.” She already knew he was ready to be annoyed with her by his tone. 

“Yeah, uh-huh,” he nods, and smirks. Despite being annoyed he’s casual, “Thinkin’ maybe ya forgot som’n?” He throws the towel down ontop of her clothes and goes to stand behind a tree while she gets out of the water. 

Lady was always doing this. And Daryl was always following her with whatever thing she’d forgotten, or didn’t know she was gonna need. Daryl was always there. 

Full name Lady-Rae Cheryl Dixon. See momma wanted the name to rhyme with the boys but always said if she had a girl she was gonna name her Lady. Really liked that movie when she was a kid, didn’t matter it wasn’t a girls name. Didn’t matter to her what anyone thought. She thought it was sweet. And Lady was sweet. Could get away with probably anything if she wanted to, but she never even tried. Besides running around the woods naked, she didn’t find herself in much trouble. Sweet as honey. 

Daryl wasn’t sure how that was gonna work out in the real world. If she would get eaten up, or if she’d outshine everyone around her. He didn’t like to think about it. She didn’t belong out there. Not yet. Right now she’s naked in the woods, covering herself up just to be polite; right where she’s meant to be. Who she’s supposed to be. 

They make the walk back, Lady’s teeth chattering but she never complains. Barefoot like she grew the forest herself. She knew every inch. Daryl shuffled behind her, knowing the trail just as well, but letting her be the force she was. Skipping and stopping and stepping on her favorite parts as she went. He watched. 

Her towel small, and frayed on the ends. See through in spots. He tries to look away. He knows he should. But he can’t manage to stop himself. the way her tiny ass bounced as she walked, it was too lewd for him to avert his eyes. Like maybe if it wasn’t jiggling so much he’d have been able to stare at his feet or off into the woods, or at her bare shoulder or something, anything, else. 

But it was, just… her tight skin moving the fat of her ass back into place over and over, snapping against the sheer fabric of the towel, moving that too. Daryl keeps himself from leaning back to see more, to peak through and see the light between her legs. Wouldn’t do that. He’s not trying to sexualize her. What her ass is doing is right there in front of him? He tells himself it’s not his fault he’s looking. He’s seen her naked anyway, it’s not even a big deal. 

Getting caught up in shit that doesn’t matter, that’s what Daryl was good at. Getting stuck up in his own head and hung up on looking just barely a little too long at his sister. Merle would say it was no big deal, Daryl just needed to relax. He was making it weird by thinkin’ about it. 

He manages to look away, and to forget all about it.

💕 

Lady always assumes Daryls looking. Why wouldn't he look? Didn't mean nothin’. Boys always looked, wasn't a big deal unless they made it one. Unless someone made private thoughts public, with a purpose. Who cares who's lookin’? Lady doesn't. Never did. Why would she? How could she?

With Daryl for a brother, Lady never even got the chance to know what a bad touch might be. Never even heard of it. Maybe that's why she was such a late bloomer. Never even knew what she had down there until last summer when she met a boy who had a truck and talked like her brothers and he touched her through her pants and she ignited. 

Never saw the guy again. 

Never wanted to. Never needed to. She was alive and on fire and everything around her burned brighter for it. 

She was finding it hard to get comfortable in the bed she’d made. Still too hot even with the air conditioner on full blast. Daryl was about 3 feet away, a whole heap of comforter between them. “Get up” Lady’s voice a playful smirk. 

Daryl had been trying to fall asleep but got stuck staring at the ceiling fan. Trying to watch a single blade in its rotation. He stands up like she’d asked and watches as Lady lays the comforter out on top of the rest of the blankets she’d piled up, “if we’re not gonna use it.” She explains. 

Lady’s still got her light blue baby blanket that goes almost everywhere with her. Just as tattered and falling apart as the towel. Daryl never sleeps with a blanket anyway. Usually just passes out in his clothes, on his bed. Now he’d do the same thing here, in the living room. Hum of the a/c, chatter of the TV, the heat from Lady’s body - Daryl didn’t think he’d be able to fall asleep anyway. 

Well maybe. He did have a joint stashed in with his cigarettes that he’d been saving for sometime this week. So when lady gets up to grab herself an ice cream cone from the fridge, Daryl yells, “Lay, grab ma pack’a smokes.” 

Lady’s halfway to the living room but she turns back and grabs them from the kitchen counter for him. “You’re really gonna smoke in the fort?” 

“Fort, huh?” He grunts then smiles at her as she tosses the pack at him. 

“Yeah?” She looks around, elbowing the sheet hung behind her, “What else would you call it?” 

“Th’ livin’ room.” He’s not looking at her when he answers. Eyes and fingers fixed on the pack, fidgeting with the hinged top for a bit before pulling the joint out and putting it in his mouth. 

Lady stops complaining when she sees it’s not a cigarette, and takes her seat back down on the pallet. Laying on her stomach, up on her elbows, facing Daryl. Her ice cream cone had already started melting, her tongue now on a race with the liquid dripping down her hand. 

Daryl just watches her struggle, until she finally gets a hold on it. “Y’good, there, Bug?” 

“Shut up.” And she shoves him a little. She’s got strawberry icecream all over her cheeks and chin and Daryl wishes he took pictures because at this moment he needed one. He needed her to remember forever who she is right now. 

“Y’wanna hit?” He asks her like he asks her every time he smokes a joint in front of her. Which is often. And every time she says no, because it’s always no. Never wanted to, never really saw the point. Things were beautiful enough. And it reminded her of Merle, and the bad things he got up to. 

Her mind slowly has been changing about it, with Merle gone for so long now. And Daryl being so chill about it when he was about it. A lot of the kids in high school had been doing worse and Lady found herself wanting to say yes when Daryl asked her. 

But when she does, Daryl doesn’t believe her, “No fuckin’ way, Bug. Yer buggin’.” 

“Bubba, no I’m not. I been thinkin’ about it.” 

“Oh, ya have? What’chya been thinkin’ ‘bout it?” 

“Just that I kinda wanna try.” She sways on her elbows, licking at her ice cream, “I’m gonna eventually, right? Why not now?” 

She’s trying to keep herself calm, but she was more relaxed than she’d usually be when she thought about sayin’ yes. Maybe that’s why she’d finally said it. She was finally able to. Lady thinks that means she must be ready, if she’s not afraid to say she wants to try it. 

She remembers this moment for the rest of her life. 

Makes her feel brave, like she’ll always know if she’s ready for some new scary experience or not. If she can ask, she’s ready. 

He thinks about it for a second, but he doesn’t see where she’s wrong. She probably was gonna try it eventually, why not now? She was safe here, he knew it. She knew it. So he says, “Alrigh’, fine. But yer prolly gon’ jus’ get tired,” and passes the joint to her. Thinking she'd take a tiny hit, probably not even inhale, and wimp out.

Lady takes it delicately in her fingertips and brings it to her lips. She’d tried cigarettes before (and didn’t like them), so the motion wasn’t completely foreign. But everything about it felt new and different. It burned. She almost didn’t feel it until she exhaled. A cloud of smoke billowing out and surrounding the both of them. 

Daryl laughs and mutters, “Shit, Bug,” while Lady’s face falls. That was way more than she thought was supposed to come out. Way more than her little lungs were expecting or could take. Her hand shoots out to Daryl for him to take her half eaten ice cream cone as she turns into a rabid dog. 

A wild beast on all fours hacking up half her lung and Daryl’s laughing so hard he’s crying, taking the ice cream and the joint back from her as she seizes. 

She’ll be okay. He knows she will. And she’ll sleep amazing and she’ll be safe like she always is. Somethin’ in the air felt different there now. With everyone else gone. Like nothing could touch them. 

So even though Lady’s about to be as high as a girl could ever be, neither of them are worried it won’t be a good time. 

Just them in their fort. Way too old to be playing little kid games and way too young to be playing house. 

💕

Lady’s vision was fuzzy. Glittering and dancing and hazy, rainbow bursts of fizzy glowing sparkles. 

Lady was secretly afraid she was on fire. She stared at the TV but wondered to herself if it was possible that her lungs were embers that were slowly consuming her chest cavity. She could breathe now, it had been nearly an hour since she hit that joint, but she was sure that she was literally burning alive from the inside out. 

“Dar, do you think you can be burning inside your lungs? Like on fire? Is that how people spontaneously combust?” 

Daryl’s eyebrows shoot up, she’d been quiet for a while and he had been pretty sure that she’d fallen asleep. He had to think about her question. If he wasn’t also stoned he probably would have been able to tell her the answer was obviously no. Instead he says, “Don’t think so.” Which doesn’t really make her feel better. “I ain’t ever hearda it.” That does. Daryl’s hearda everything. 

Their voices are soft, the tv’s the only light in the room. Daryl looks over at Lady. Her bare legs disappearing under an old pair of pajama shorts, she’s definitely not on fire. Not the way she means. 

“Think yer good, Bug.” He reassured her before asking, “Need som’thin’?” 

Lady, sweet as ever, asks, “Tuck me in?” 

Daryl rolls his eyes but sits up anyway. Crawling the two steps toward her. He takes what he can of the stretchy old fabric and wraps it around her body. It’s not big enough, it was never gonna be. Daryl cracks a smile, Lady’s been laughing at his attempt. He pushes his fingers with the fabric around her, she’s laying straight as an arrow, blanket stretched to its limit tight against her body. 

Daryl isn’t paying attention to his fingers as they tuck the fabric under her thighs, or how tight it’s pulling against Lady’s breasts. Lady does. She took one look at him after she hit that joint and she hasn’t been able to sit right since. 

It’s the air, it’s the heat. It’s the sun, maybe something in the water at the creek? Its the pot. It’s gotta be the pot. It’s somethin’ that Lady doesn’t understand. That sometimes just being in proximity is enough. 

She felt brave. She wanted to skirt that line. The line itself moving, and blurry, and hard to make-out. She wanted to be touched. And she wanted Daryl to touch her. Not too much, just a little. Just enough to make her heart race. Just enough to kiss her sleep with something that felt like magic. 

Her pulse is pounding in her ears and down her throat as she looks at him up above her. She feels her blood burn in her palms, slowly falling away from her sides as the tight fabric comes loose from around her. 

Daryl’s lost in the same moment, just caught staring down at her, in a haze himself. Stuck in his head, romanticizing every moment of Lady’s last summer.  

“Kiss goodnight?” 

The words come from between them. Lady’s voice had spoken them but she’s certain it didn’t come from her mouth. 

Doesn’t matter. They’re in the air and Lady and Daryl both pretend that she doesn’t mean it in any way other than what a sister might say to a brother. 

Daryl leans down and just barely brushes his lips over hers. Soft and sweet, like he was leaning down and smelling a flower. It’s so brief, and it’s so feather light it almost wasn’t there. Lady and Daryl both pretend it wasn’t. 

She closes her eyes and snuggles into her blanket, all bunched up in her arms. And Daryl moves back to his spot, trying not to think about what just happened. How it’s all different now. In two seconds everything was different. 

She initiated something new and Daryl already knew he was gonna do what he always did with Lady. Whatever she wanted. 

💕

The sun is just barely peaking through the windows when Lady opens her eyes. The tv still playing, she sits up and leans herself forward to turn it off. Turning around to observe Daryl. But she wasn’t expecting… this. 

He must have gotten up in the middle of the night and ripped his clothes off because he’s just laying there in his boxers and his wife beater. Head leaning back off the pillow, arms laying on either side of his body. The part that catches Lady completely off guard was between his legs. Hard and trying to push its way out of his boxers. Lady can see a hint of pink between the fabric. The hole in the front tenting out around his bulge. 

Lady tries not to look. Knows she shouldn’t. But it’s too lewd to look anywhere else. He moves briefly in his sleep, which only makes their situation worse. His erect member pushing its way completely out of the hole. Lady gawks, feeling something akin to a squeel in her throat. She’d never seen something so… she needed to touch it. 

She shuffles closer to him, her knees padding on the layers of blankets underneath them. Her small hand moving out in front of her, she can’t look away. 

Her fingertips meet the skin of his bare cock with something Lady is sure is electricity. It’s warmer than she’d imagined, and as she moves, her nails grazing on the skin as she lightly traces up and down, she realizes that his skin here is softer than she’d imagined too. 

After a while, she can’t help herself, and wraps her fingers around him. Slowly working her hand up and down, her fingers just barely putting any pressure against him. She wants to squeeze it, to feel how hard it really is, she wants to roll it between both her hands and put it in her mouth and she wants to get to know it better than she knows any part of herself - but she doesn’t wanna wake Daryl up. 

It wasn’t even her fingers that woke Daryl up. It was the pressure. Below his stomach, twisting deep inside and throbbing.

He keeps his eyes closed, tries to keep his breathing steady. Tries to get himself to speak up, say something, tell her to stop. At least let her know you're awake. But he can't move. 

With his eyes closed he can feel every light touch of Lady’s hand. The way she pushes her palm down when she gets to the base and pulls it off as she gets to the tip, the way she's moving in soft semi-circles, but not while she's going up and down. She's exploring. 

Daryl didn't want to stop her. 

He's so hard it hurts. He almost winces when she grips him tighter. She was only moving herself in a different position, Daryl realizes, because he feels her other hand on his cock now too. 

Lady holds him in one hand, bringing the other up she grazes her index and middle finger over the tip of his length. Gliding his pre-cum all over his head. Trying to see how far it would go, she's surprised it's as slick as it is. She wants to taste it. 

Daryl feels her fingers leave him, and hears the slick pop of her tongue as she moves her fingers between her lips. He has to stop himself from rutting his hips up into her hand, stop himself from pushing her head down onto him to feel her wet mouth. 

He doesn't have to make her do anything, though.

Daryl feels a soft veil of hair tickle his skin above the waistband of his boxers, and he realizes she's about to put her mouth on him. Her pretty pink lips were about to wrap around his cock head. Her tongue, that he'd watched lick up melting icecream only a few hours ago, was gonna be flat against the underneath of his dick. Lady. With all the sweetness inside of her, was about to suck him off. 

Lady can't help herself, doesn't want to. Never learned how. She’s not quite sure how to start what she wants to do but decided to put her lips together and kiss right underneath the tip. She doesn't pull away. Parting her lips and flicking her tongue out from between her teeth to taste more of whatever was coming out of him. 

She feels it twitch under her tongue, so she licks him again. Longer, this time, with more certainty. Moving her fingers out of the way, she licks him once all the way from the bottom to the top. 

Daryl didn't think about what was gonna happen when he came. What he should do. It happens so fast that he doesn't have time to warn her. The first shot goes right on her face. 

Daryl sits up in time for the second and third to be lost somewhere on the blankets or his boxers. 

“Shit, Lady. M’so. M’fuckin’ sorry.” 

“It's my fault.” She explains in a flat tone. She sits still while Daryl uses his shirt he was wearing last night to wipe off her face. He’s a mess. Red-eared and scared as a dog but Lady's smiling bigger than she has in her whole life. 

She ignores his apology, his frantic attitude. She was serene. Like she always was. “When did you wake up?” 

“I’unno.” Right at the beginning, really, but he can’t tell her that. Can’t tell himself that. 

She ignores him, she didn't really care. “So that’s what happens then? When a guy…” she mouthes the word ‘comes’ in an exaggerated way, looking in Daryl’s eyes the whole time. 

He lays back into the pillow, grabbing another one to pull over his face. He can’t believe she just asked him that. She can’t believe this just happened at she was being so casual about it.

Lady pulls the pillow out of his hands just as fast. “No, come on. Ya can’t just not tell me. Not now.” 

Daryl puts his arm over his face, only his mouth and his nose peeking out behind the crook of his elbow. She had a point, “Whad’ya wanna know?” 

“Everything. All of it.” 

“Whad’ya wanna know righ’now.” 

Lady tells herself that if she’s ready to know, she’ll be able to ask. “When I have an orgasm nothing comes out. But when guys do it, that’s what happens?” 

She bites on her lip and looks down at him, his eyes and most of his face still hidden behind his arm, laying back on the bed. He’d stay like this and answer her questions. Wouldn’t be able to do it if he was looking at her, “uh-huh”. It's more of a grunt than a word.  

Lady tries to figure out which question to ask next. She knows a lot of stuff. Boys like it when girls suck on it. Boys like it when girls let them put it inside them. Lady isn’t sure exactly how that works, but she knows what she has. And what they have, and she doesn’t need to ask where it would go. 

“Did you like it?” 

A long pause. A half sigh, a grunted response, “uh-huh.” 

“Do you want me to do it again? Can I.. can I do it again?”

“Na’righ’ now.” 

Those words hang there even after Lady gets up and Daryl gets up and they both go about their day. This promise of ‘maybe later’. Daryl has errands to run in town and Lady says she’s got laundry to do, but hes pretty sure she just likes staying at the house. 

“Need somethin’, Lay? Goin’ ta town!” He shouts inside the house from out of it, he’d been outside most of the day, mowin’ the lawn, finally cleaning up the old trampoline. Trying to tell himself that even if he'd tried to stop her, she wouldn't have let him. 

Lady appears in the doorway in a breath, “Where ya goin’ in town?” 

“Store.” He leans against the wood frame lining the area around the steps and lights a smoke. 

Lady leans back, swaying her body with both hands on either side of the door by the handles, “Hmmm, maybe we could get stuff for grillin’. And we’re out of ice cream.” 

Daryl nods, taking a drag, his eyes squinting against the sun, “Somethin’ else?” 

“More pot?” She squints back at him. 

He breathes out an almost laugh against the cigarette between his lips, “Yeah, alrigh’. Tha’s it?”

“Wine coolers?” 

Daryl actually laughs at that one, “What’re ya tryna prove, Bug?”

She stops swinging on the door, “Not provin’ nothin’. Daddy's dead. Let's live a little.” 

💕

So Daryl gets some girly somethin’ - what he assumes are wine coolers. They're in the refrigerated case at the distributor, and there's strawberries and an island on the cardboard carrier. And the bottle’s shaped stupid. Daryl’s sure he's gotten the right thing, or at least something she'd probably like. 

Daryl doesn't feel bad indulging her. Never did, and anyway he's surprised it's taken her this long to ask. As far as growin’ up in the sticks, Lady was a good girl. And so she wanted to smoke some pot and drink some wine coolers with her brother? 

So what she had all the curious burning of an explorer on their first expedition with every new thing that she tried, and so what if that new thing was Daryl's body and how it reacted to hers? 

Daryl doesn't feel bad indulging her. He reasons with himself his whole drive that it can't be that bad. Not if Lady wanted it. Lady never wanted anything bad ever. She never gossiped, or tattled, or cheated at board games. Lady never even tried to sneak sweets. She told Daryl once it was cuz she didn't want anyone else to get in trouble if someone noticed it was missin’. Nah, Daryl figures if Lady wants it, if she asks for it, it can't be somethin’ ugly. 

💕

Daryl's on his third beer before he's able to say it, “Lay. Wha’ we did this mornin’ -“ he’s tried to figure out how he feels about it, he’s still not sure he’s making the right choice, but he needs to decide something before she decides for them. “Ya didn’t do nothin’ wrong but - can’t go tellin’ people we did that.” 

Lady laughs, she’s on her second wine cooler of her whole life, and all of a sudden Daryl thinks she’s new to the planet earth. She was backwoods but she wasn’t that backwoods. She was, after all, a high school graduate. “You mean I can't tell Auntie Norma I made you…” She mouthes the word ‘come’ again in the same exaggerated way she had earlier before losing herself in a fit of giggles. 

Lady and Daryl had folded up their temporary bed and shoved it in the corner. She was currently leaned back on the far edge of the coach, head thrown in laughter. Her shoulders shaking, her hands gripping the bottle between her thighs. 

Daryl bites at his thumb, sitting in the armchair across the room from her, he was trying to be serious for a damn second and she was laughing at him. “Jus’ don’ really know whatya think yer doin’. If yer in your right mind ‘n all. An’ y’know we ain't supposed ta.”

He just needed to hear her say it, if she could say it - if she could ask for it, it couldn’t be bad. 

“Wasn't thinkin’, Dar. Was just doin’.” She doesn’t really have an answer for him. She's in her right mind, she knows people aren't supposed to do that kind of stuff with their family. But nothin’ ever felt wrong between her and Daryl.

Daryl downs the rest of the beer he's holding in one gulp. He puts his finger in the hole at the top and spins it absentmindedly on his knee, “Jus’ need ya t’know what yer doin’.. it ain't somethin’ people usually do, Bug.” 

Lady’s starting to get frustrated. She knew what he was getting at, but why'd he have to say it? “I know I'm not supposed to, Dar. It's like those times you and Merle let me watch scary movies when I was little and I had to tell Momma and Daddy we were watching lions on PBS instead.” 

Daryl reaches down and grabs another beer from the case next to the armchair. He just shakes his head. She's gotta know it ain't that simple. 

“Bubba, look at me.” 

Daryl looks over, curious what she needed the eye contact for, “W’sup, Lay?”

“It’s just you and me out here and as far as I can tell we didn’t hurt anyone.“ She finishes the rest of her drink in one gulp just like he had, “The woods are good at keepin’ secrets, Bub. You know that.” And she smiles, looking down before looking directly at him.

If they didn't know before they both knew now. It wasn't just going to be that one thing that happened between them. The stagnant ‘maybe later' coming back and sitting on their shoulders, in their laps, in every empty space of the room. 

‘Maybe’ turns to definitely. To obviously.

Daryl grunts, trying not to let a smile on the corners of his lips. He opens the bottle in his hand and takes a sip before bringing it back down to look at it. Pondering her words like they're written on the label. All he thought he'd needed to hear was that she knew it had to be a secret. That she knew she was committing a crime against god here with him. But now what?  

Lady almost can't take it, the cicadas buzzing from outside are so loud it's infesting her brain. She’d been sitting there for an hour trying to figure out how to ask him if she could touch him again. And now that he's brought it up, she can't think of anything else but the way he tasted, the way his thing pulsated and twitched underneath of her tongue. She wants to make him cum again. 

Daryl's drinking his beer, lost in thought, while Lady decides she should probably have another one too. She gets up and walks past him to the kitchen. 

“Where ya goin’?” He half shouts behind him, a little worried he'd hurt her feelings. Read something wrong. Said something wrong. 

Lady smiles to herself, Daryl worried all the time about everything and it always ended up being for nothing. “Just gettin’ another one. That okay with you, pop?” She teases. 

She reappears from behind the sheet holding another wine cooler. As she takes her seat back on the couch Daryl leans forward, elbows on his thighs, taking another sip of his drink, “Might wanna slow down on those, Bug.” He's smiling into the bottle. 

Lady sticks her tongue out at him, her eyebrows drawn down in mock anger, “What, afraid I'm gonna blow chunks instead of blow you?” She's been on the edge of it for so long it spills out of her mouth.

Daryl has no idea what the fuck to say to that but he laughs out loud. He genuinely guffaws. If it wasn't his little sister he'd be frozen in his fuckin’ chair. Churning a little at this realization - Cuz when she said it he wasn't uncomfortable. Wasn't afraid, or worried that he was gonna have to do something he might mess up. 

“Nah.” He answers her before his mind takes off on a tangent about how it's his sister and the proposition of her sucking his cock should make him uncomfortable. But it didn't. 

Cuz if she wants it, it can't be wrong. 

“Just keep drinkin’, Lay. If ya blow chunks yer the one stuck cleanin’ it up though.” 

“Let's smoke that pot.” 

“No.”

“Aw, c’mon. Why not, bub?”

“Cross-faded.”

“What's that?” 

“Pots different after y’drink. Jus’.. trus’me on this one.” He sips his beer, “‘nless yer really set on blowin’ chunks. Tha’s definitely a sure fire way.” 

Lady shakes her head, taking her drink from between her thighs again and sipping it before putting it back. 

She's gotta figure out how to ask soon or she was gonna drink herself to sleep. 

Daryl can see her workin’ something out in her head, “S’goin’ on, Lay?.” 

She’s staring at a spot on the ground and she doesn’t look up, “Thinkin’.” 

“‘bout wha’?”

“Your cock in my mouth.” 

Daryl chokes on the spit he was swallowing, “Christ.” He says as he coughs. He doesn't think he's ever heard her say that word. “Yer really serious, huh?” He asks again, this time because he truly can’t believe it. Why would she, the sweetest piece of Georgia pie, wanna put her pretty mouth on him? Even if he was her brother. Especially because he was her brother. 

She smiles and looks down at her fingers around the top of her bottle. Blushing beet red and nodding her head so aggressively her hair moves. 

He wants to let her but somethin’ about it doesn't feel right. Not because of who she was or who he was, or cuz it was wrong. “Shouldn't jus’ blow guys, Lay.” 

“Whaddya mean?” She picks at the label on her drink, not looking up at him. Nervous and excited and hanging on his every word. 

“People, uh - usually… do other stuff first.” He explains, not wanting to make her feel bad for what she'd already done, but wanting her to understand she can't just do that to other guys. 

Lady laughs, a sigh of relief escaping her as she brings the brim up to take another swig. There's a million things sitting between her teeth and her lips just waiting to be said. Instead, she just asks, “Do you wanna watch a movie?”

💕

pt. 2

A/n: This is coming out a whole lot sweeter than I thought it was going to be and I know in the end it's going to break my little heart. 

Anyway sorry, most of the smut will be in part 2 where I imagine going into detail about their first time (for a few different things) as well as how they are once they get more comfortable as they get deeper into the summer. 

Broken up into two parts because I can't fathom proofreading these 6,000 words one more time. 

(Next part will be up as fast as I can write it.)

[chaosduckies]

Silence In The City (1)

I hate school a lot for not letting my finish anything that I wanted to write and luckily I found the time to write today! So I give you an idea I’ve had on my mind for a good while, I’ve just never written it down! I will say these characters are some of my favorite because of the dynamic I have planned for them! Hope you enjoy!

Word count: 4.3k

CW: Violence, depictions of anxiousness and anxiety

1-

Everything was all wrong. The way the system works. How life works. How humans work. It was all just some twisted lie. Of course humankind had been ruthlessly attacked by these monsters at first. Huge and massive beings that rose from the sea, easily crumbling buildings and killing millions. It was terrible, taking ages to finally figure out a way to kill them. There was nothing to bring back the lives lost, everyone was broken apart, cities crumbled to dust as vegetation took over what was originally theirs. And soon, it repeated and repeated, until these monsters would finally restore their original home. Destroying countless cities along the coast, sometimes even working their way closer to the middle of the land. Though they were usually killed by then. 

I’ve never really been the type for fighting. Yet, I still find myself here. They had told us to go into our underground bunkers for safety but I couldn’t make it in time. The city was quiet except for the thundering footsteps coming from the monster. I just ran into a building, scared and alone. I had no idea where my parents were, but I had hoped that they were safe. Next thing I knew, the monster was after me. Crumbling down buildings in an attempt to take a life since there was no one else around. Or so I had thought. I was cornered and tired, the dust from all the rubble filling my lungs. I was about to be killed by the rubble falling on top of me. I had already given up, knowing that I wasn’t going to get out of this alive. When nothing had happened and there was a loud thud, I looked up, seeing an even bigger, more powerful being, standing over the monster. The monster struggled to get up while the one standing over leaned down, its eyes focusing on me. 

They only looked half like the monster that had just threatened my life, but yet, didn’t have the same malicious look in his eyes. Scales all along their body that stopped halfway up their fingers, neck, and chest. The most beautiful shade of purple eyes that I have ever seen, toned skin, tail with spikes all along their spine, even another pair of arms. And yet somehow, he acted even more human than he looked. He showed concern for a little while before scooping me up somehow, protecting me against any further danger. After all the loud growling and harsh noises were gone, only leaving the strange humanoid kaiju huffing for breath. They opened up their hands high up in the air,  eyes studying me with worry. As if they had been making sure I wasn’t injured. Of course I was still scared. I didn’t know what was going to happen to me. Or what this guy would do to me. He had looked more human anyways. 

Soon enough, I heard my parents' strained voices crying for me. Out of desperation to be reunited, I crawled over to the edge of their palm, reaching out to them with tears in my eyes. They had noticed the person who had saved me, obviously scared but they stayed, wanting me back. I looked back at the half-human half-kaiju, their eyes glaring down at my parents. He turned towards me, eyes going wide before slowly lowering his hand to the ground. I stumbled off, nearly falling face first but ran into the warm hug that was waiting for me. I glanced back at the monster who had looked away, having a troubled and dark expression before locking eyes with me. I started trembling, but otherwise put on the best nervous smile as my parents urged me to run away. Their eyes shot up before he crawled away, making sure not to crumble buildings. 

I hadn’t forgotten about that day. When people were allowed to come out, we all tried to go back to our homes, but most of them had been demolished. Including mine. We were placed in a camp until they could find a home for us to relocate to, but I just couldn’t stop thinking about that guy. Whether they had been a monster or human, they had saved me. Even protected me. And I still ran away without giving a thank you. I was terrified, sure, but that didn’t condone not thanking him. They practically saved the whole city and they wouldn’t ever get any recognition for it. Usually those huge monsters were killed by people who could handle the suits, I’ve never seen anything like what just happened ever. Not on tv at least. Why did they look so… surprised by me though? Like when I smiled at them, or when I was just scared out of my mind in the corner. I never found out the answer until today. 

The camp was full of people. We were just lucky that food was okay and that we were getting supplied everything we needed. Until a military team had arrived. They were searching for someone. Telling people to gather in an area so they could check our faces. When they came up to me, they had all started talking. This didn’t happen with any other person, which just worked up my nerves. Why were they here? To take me away? To punish me for not being able to make it to the bunker on time? I wasn’t made for war! Was it because of that human-monster hybrid? Was I not supposed to see them? What was going on? A million questions stirred in my mind, making me anxious and worried. I had feared that they would be taking me away from home, and kept hoping that it wasn’t the case. 

I stayed still, playing with my hands and looking down at the ground, waiting to be told what would happen next. I was scared. I always have been. There was no reason for me to, but the anxiety always made me feel this way. This wasn’t helping at all either. The military people came back, my parents gripping my shoulders and kept whispering that everything would be okay. I didn’t believe them this time. They walked up to me once again, “You’re being transferred under government care. Your objective is classified until arrival. Please follow us.” They had instructed, waiting for me to follow them. I jumped, looking back up at my parents with mortified faces. They were just as terrified as I was. I looked back at the guy who was just talking to me, “B-But my parents?” I scooted closer to them as they gripped my shoulder tighter. He had sighed, walking but up to me, “Only you. Sorry kid, you’re being called to duty, and if you ignore we have been ordered to take you forcefully.” 

My eyes shot open, my entire body pausing. I didn’t hear when my parents started arguing to let them come with me, but it just wasn’t allowed. My mom, with tears in her eyes, looked at me. I always hated when she cried, “It’ll be okay, alright Devon? Just please be careful.” I knew why she was saying it. They were going to take me away, and I don’t even get a say. My parents had argued for me but… I never fought for myself. Never was a fan of fighting. They had, however, allowed me to pack a few things. Or what I had left of my stuff. My parents watched me pack a few clothes, making sure I had everything. I looked back, seeing my dusty stuffed animal dog and grabbed it. I knew it was childish but I couldn’t go anywhere without him. I could just clean them off when I get to wherever I was going to. My mom made sure to grab my pills and placed them in my bag, “Don’t forget to take these.” She smiled sadly, trying not to cry. To be honest I was trying my hardest as well. I didn’t understand why I had to leave. They never gave me a reason, and I was anxious. Was it bad? The place they were taking me to? Was I in trouble? 

The thoughts never escaped my mind as I hugged my parents close, then started to follow the guy into a car. People had surrounded me, as if making sure I wouldn’t try anything. Of course I wouldn't. I already knew I wouldn’t win that battle. Not now or not ever. It was quiet on the way there. Sitting in a car for two hours, only listening to the people on the radio transmissions and getting stares from the people sitting next to me. I stayed quiet, afraid that if I said anything it would only make my situation worse. I was already away from my parents and I’ve lost my home, what more could they do to me besides kill me? I panicked at the idea as the car drove past a massive gate. There were several check-ins, and soon we were finally in. My heart wouldn’t stop beating as I stared at the huge base. I walked through several hallways, earning stares from a lot of people. Some older, some looking the same age as me. I knew what this place was. To train people to kill those monsters that terrorize cities. Was that what I was here for? I wouldn’t even last a single hour here. 

They took me up an elevator, leading me to another place where there was a lab. Holographic screens everywhere, people testing new weapons out. I flinched when someone had started barking orders. I gripped my backpack tighter, thoughts swirling in my mind. Could I just go back home with my parents? Can’t I just cry right now? It’s taken so much out of me just to stop myself. I didn’t want to show it to everyone else around me though. They would think I’m even more of a useless kid than they already do. I could already tell that. So what was I even doing here if they all thought that about me? 

The people started talking with one another before one of the scientists came up to me, the people who used to stand beside me to make sure I didn’t try to escape took a step to the side. The woman was tall and looked to be in her thirties. I jumped as her eyes pierced through me, seeming to stare deep into my soul as she studied my every move. My eyes nervously trailed down to the ground, nervously moving around my feet. I felt like a big underneath her stare. And it didn’t feel very good. 

“This is who the monster decided to save?” She sounded unimpressed as she wrote things down, circling around me. She lifted up one of my arms, shaking her head and sighing, “Too skinny, too weak, do you suffer from any illnesses?” She asked. I looked at her sadly, forcing my voice to work without cracking, “Anxiety disorder.” She raised her eyebrows, muttering something under her breath that I couldn’t hear. It made my anxiousness even worse.

But what did she mean by monster? Was it that guy that saved me? My eyes went wide at the thought. I was going to see him again? I felt terrified and scared, but at the same time happy? It was a strange mix of emotions as she had dragged me to a large metal door that seemed heavily protected. Automatic windows had opened, revealing a large room with only one inhabitant inside. My eyes widened as I played with my hands and shuffled my feet. There, only a few meters behind the glass, was the person that saved him. Trapped in a tiny metal box. Well, tiny to him, not so much for me. They looked to have been bothered in their sleep and slowly started opening their eyes, letting out a soft groan and never moving. Some part of me screamed to run, to hide and never look back, but the other part felt sympathy for him. Why was he locked up in here? Did he do something bad? It didn’t really seem like it. They looked so peaceful, as if nothing was wrong.

“You’re going to go in there. No escaping and we can’t guarantee that it won’t kill you.” She instructed, getting ready to throw me in there. He gripped my bag and continued to look out the window, my nerves only worsening. Kill me?... would he really do that? After being so gentle and protective? Was that why I was here? Just to meet him again? See how he’d react to seeing the one person he helped get out alive. “Get a peculiar reaction out of him like you did at the attack and we’ll see what we’ll do with you after…. If you’re still alive,” She grinned like she had expected it to happen, “Here’s a tablet containing the means of shocking it into submission if you feel threatened, here is also an ear microphone so we can speak to you through it.” She handed me a small tablet with a few buttons, but I eyed the button with the lightning bolt on it warily. Shock him? I could barely think about it without gagging.

I gulped, not knowing how he would react to me. Holding the tablet that I had an odd feeling he would recognize and hate me for it. I also hated the fact that she called him an “it” and a monster. If he was a monster then why’d he kill one? Why would he save me in the first place? Why make sure he wouldn’t topple over any buildings? I took a deep breath before I was shoved on the other side of the door. I yelped, landing face first onto the cold metal floor. I groaned quietly to myself, sitting up with my backpack still attached to me. I let out a sigh of relief, then made the mistake of looking up. My eyes were glued to the massive being in front of me, their entire face taking up my vision. I felt myself barely breathing, my body trembling, but I never ran away. 

I jumped when their eyes had opened, groggily searching around the room until they landed on me. I held in a breath, my eyes wide but not full of fear. This was the person that saved me. They wouldn’t kill me, right? It didn’t really sound logical at all. Though… that didn’t really explain why he was locked up in here. He didn’t really look like the type to do any true harm to someone

As soon as their eyes found me we held a silent staring contest until his own eyes grew wide as he picked up his head. Did he recognize me? He shook his head, laying back down on his arms. I looked around. Seeing that the room was cramped. Not for him at all but for the guy just laying on the ground seemed to be cramped. The ceiling looked too low for them to get on their legs, heck, it even looked too low for them to sit on their knees and sit up straight. I flinched when they slightly moved their head up a little more. I felt like a tiny bug under their gaze. I stared at one of their hands, the one I had been in just a few days prior and shuddered. Their claws were at least three times my own height. I briefly wondered just how small I am to him. How he saw me through his eyes. Just a bug? Another small insignificant creature? 

I gripped the tablet in my hands, listening to the microphone in my ear. They had kept saying to talk, to do something, but what was there to do? He was just sleeping, and I ruined it. I didn’t like the thought that they forced me to bother him. And the fact that he looked annoyed with me being in here too. I sucked in a shaky breath looking away and at the door, but I couldn’t help but turn back to the vibrant purple eyes glaring at me, no, the tablet. The collar around his neck seemed to be the shock collar basing it off of the marks around where it is on his neck, there were also some on his wrists. All four of them. I looked down at the tablet in hand, and back at him, still glaring at the object in my hand. It sent a chill down my spine as I did the exact opposite of what they kept telling me to on the microphone. I placed it down and kicked it away from me, along with the microphone. There was no reason for me to have either of them. I wasn’t going to pay attention to what they were going to say. None of this seemed right to me. 

Their eyes went wide at my action, looking between me and the tablet that must not have looked far to him, but it was for me. They seemed to be shocked as they raised their head up, and up, until entirely looming over me, holding themselves up with their crossed arms. I gulped, not realizing just how big they truly were. I backed away a little thinking, for only a brief moment, that it was a mistake to toss away the one thing that could have kept me alive. Though, if he really wanted me dead wouldn’t he have done so the other day? Instead of saving me he could’ve just let it happen. Instead he didn’t. And I still had yet to thank him! They lowered their head, as if trying to examine me more before looking away, disappointed. Though I did catch a bit of sadness hidden. I hadn’t noticed how much I was trembling. Or how much I had backed away, my back almost against the wall. I felt terrible for looking that way in front of him. What if that was why he was disappointed? Because everyone was scared of him and so am I? Of course I’m scared but at least I’m attempting to try something. I scrambled further up to see him looking completely away, almost turned to face the wall opposite of me. I kept taking steps closer despite the warnings given, and stood a few feet away from one of his hands. Big, scary, but I just grabbed the backpack on my shoulders and stood up on shaky legs. My breath was shaky, but I forced words to come out eventually, “Th-thank you. For saving m-me.” He slowly turned his head, his eyes searching to see if I was lying. I heard him scoff above me, the noise deep and irritated, “You’re a really good liar. How about you go back with your friends out there and treat me like some monster like they all do?” I covered my ears with my hands, their voice loud. Liar? Friends? Monster? Did he mean the scientists? Why did he think I was lying? Was he really a monster if he saved my life and practically everyone else’s by dealing with the real monster that day? Now there were even more questions than answers. 

I didn’t move. Even though I was terrified, trembling, and honestly thinking about just making a run for it, I still stayed. It was silent for what seemed like forever before they moved again, glaring at me, eyes piercing through my soul. “Go away.” He nearly growled, slamming a fist on the ground. I was airborne for a half a second, placing my hands out in front of me so I didn’t land on my face. Heart racing, breath shaky, tears forming in my eyes. Dead- Dead. I could’ve died. The thoughts wouldn’t leave as I stared at the fist only mere feet away. I looked back down, watching as my own tears hit the metal ground below. I could’ve been dead now. Why wasn’t I dead? Why was I alive right now? Wasn’t he going to kill me? My breathing quickened, my arms and legs becoming weak. I used a shaky hand to grab a fistful of my shirt against my chest, feeling how hard my heart was beating. How it seemed to ring through my ears with every thump. I closed my eyes, trying to get as much air into my lungs to calm myself down. My stomach throbbing. The anxiety eating at me. The constant thoughts of how I could’ve died. What I would look like. I just kept taking shaky breaths, slowly regaining my mind. I reached into my bag worriedly, grabbing a water bottle and my pills, dumping two out into my hand and downing them with water. I held my head, taking my last few deep breaths. My body was still trembling and my heart was still beating abnormally fast, but at least my mind wasn’t lost. 

Using the back of my hand, I wiped away the tears, sniffling and forcing myself to look up. Their other hands clawing at the metal, their eyes still piercing through me, holding me in place out of fear. Why was he so angry? Was it because he was trapped in here? Because they treat him like this? It didn’t take a whole lot to figure out how they take care of him. The collars, the tablet, the chains on his lower pair of arms. Who knows what else. But was he really that bad? I mean, of course I just had a near death experience, but after a second look I realized he was just trying to scare me. It would’ve worked. The people here were terrible. It didn’t matter if he was half kaiju half human, did it? It didn’t matter if he was probably taller than a skyscraper. Okay well that might invoke fear in literally everyone he meets but still. It didn’t really seem to me that he truly wanted to hurt anyone. A few days ago he struggled to avoid breaking anything that might wreck the city even more than it already was. He even held me to keep me safe. How was he being held in a prison like this when he’s saving billions of people? It just didn’t sit right with me. 

I gathered up whatever courage I had left in me, trying to forget about what had just happened, “I-I’m sorry that you’re i-in here.” My voice came out weak, quiet, almost like I was about to cry. Honestly, I was. Everything about this was telling me to run and get the heck out of here. That would be wrong. That would be proving their point that I think of them as a monster, wouldn’t it? 

Their eyes widened in shock, lowering their head even more, almost touching the floor. I flinched when they moved their fist, flattening their hand on the ground as if they were confused and interested. It was unnerving to have their full attention, but I stared right back, rubbing my arms to hide the fact that I was shaking. He lifted his head back up, contemplating. I had no idea what was happening, but for some reason their entire mood had seemed to shift. Why did they react that way when I said that I was sorry? They didn't seem mad anymore. Relief washed over me as he raised his hand up and covered up a mirror high above me. Was it actually a window? Were they watching us? I didn’t know. 

He sighed, studying me like he was earlier, trying to see if I was lying, “You’re hard to stay mad at,” His voice was a lot quieter, “Kieran. That’s my name.” He opened his mouth like he was about to say something else but shook his head, looking down at me. I sucked in a shaky breath. Kieran? “Devon.” I quietly said. He seemed to hear me before somehow. He removed his hand from the mirror, glaring at it for a few seconds like they had done some unspeakable crime. They actually did actually, keeping Kieran here in the first place. 

“You’re welcome for saving you by the way. Don’t expect me to do it again.” He told me, turning away. I couldn’t help but notice how he seemed to sound happier now. Like he was happy I was talking to him. I smiled, jumping when the door opened. I watched as several people walked it, three of them carrying a tablet and keeping a close eye on Kieran. The other people walked right towards me. I flinched, unable to fight back against the grip they had on my arms. I was forced to my feet and shoved through the door. I stole one more glance back at Kieran, meeting their sad eyes. Once the doors were closed, I let them push me around the long hallways. What did they mean they wouldn’t dave me again. Would they have to? I wouldn’t think so if I was going home after this. I did what they asked me to do, didn't I? Why did he look so sad when I left? 

Eventually they opened a door that led to a small room with only the necessities. A bed, bathroom, closet. They threw me in there, “People will come and get you in the morning. They asked that you rest for now.” They had ordered from me. What? Was I staying here for the night and going home? I sat on the bed, digging out my stuffed animal and laying down, sinking into the hard mattress. I sucked in a shaky breath and cried silently. Nothing could ever just be normal. 

——————

I’ve absolutely loved kaiju ever since I could remember and I’ve been wanting to write a story for it! To be honest I mostly wrote this for myself just to feed my delusions but also just to get out of my writer’s block and to save me from spiraling cause of school. But thank you for reading! This actually did get me out of a major writing slump (thank you school) so I will finally be able to finish answering asks and writing commissions. Thank you for being so patient!

Taglist: @da3dm, @dav8530

If you would like to be added to any of my writing please let me know!

[rubyredridinghood]

JJK Characters and Their Piercings/Tattoos

SFW✅ CONTENT!! 18+ blogs please dni ^^ TW: Mentions of needles, some spoilers, not proofread lol

SATORU GOJO

•Standard ear piercing but usually nothing extravagant

•Unironically has the cross dangly because he thought it would be funny but never wears it

•Mostly diamond studs or silver

•100% GOT A NOSE STUD IN HIGH SCHOOL

•He thought it would attract more attention from the ladies (as if he needed anymore) and of course it worked

•Also has his belly button pierced and I stand firm on that belief

•Likes to flaunt it on the beach and often keeps his shirts unbuttoned in unprofessional gatherings

•Often matches the nose stud and belly button ring and has drawers full of them

• Has a tattoo on his hip of a black beta fish (yeah🥲)

•Speaking of which, he has a small one on the back of his neck of a crescent moon

•He got matching ones with Geto right before *the incident* in high school to celebrate Suguru’s 18th, Geto has the sun

•Covers it with foundation all the time when he’s in public

•Has a tattoo on his upper arm of a doodle Megumi drew when he was little

•It was the first thing Megumi ever drew and showed him (It was literally just him and Tsumiki as stick figures) and he cried

•Has a pretty high pain tolerance so he mostly did well with the process, but the hip tattoo hurt like hell for him and they basically had to pin him to the table to keep him still

•Made Shoko come to his appointments for moral support

CHOSO

•Standard ear piercings

•Usually just sticks to silver or black studs because he’s afraid of being judged :< •With a little push he might wear small hoops occasionally

• Vertical labret piercing (middle of lip) only wears hoops

•Does not do well with needles (shockingly), so he cried the first time he got body mods done

•Got his ears pierced at Claire’s and held the teddy bear

•Has only one tattoo along his left forearm with the names of his brothers written out in kanji (including Yuji)

•Also cried during the tattooing process

•He’s just a pretty princess he can’t help it😞

•Has a rotation of like 5 different pairs of earrings and lip rings because he likes to keep things simple

•Really wants to get an eyebrow piercing but chickens out every time

SUGURU GETO

•Gauges (duh)

•Started stretching his ears in early high school after he got tired of normal earrings

•Used to sit in agony in class whenever it was time to move up the taper size

•Got his septum pierced but decided he didn’t like it a few months later

•After high school (betraying everyone lol), he started by getting industrials

•Tongue piercing came next, has all kinds of fun tongue rings for funsies

•Tongue was super puffy after getting it done, Mimiko and Nanako had to speak for him for a couple weeks while he expressed his throughs through grunts of frustration

•Has the universally headcannoned back tattoo of a dragon

•Has the sun tattoo on his nape to match Gojo’s moon

•Covers it with his hair obvi but sometimes looks at it in the mirror when he’s feeling lonely

•Left arm is a complete sleeve filled with various details such as red spider lilies, various geometric patterns, and names of his loved ones hidden throughout

•Simplistic patterns running up his fingers on both hands

•Did not budge during any of the procedures, however the intensity of many of his healing processes usually rendered him unable to do certain things, so he often required assistance afterwards, even while swearing up and down he didn’t (he almost fell down the stairs)

TOJI FUSHIGURO

•Definitely has the standard earlobe

•Used to have a nose stud but stopped wearing it

•Again nothing flashy but his wife and Tsumiki bought him hello kitty earrings and he will wear them proudly

•Has a simple tattoo down his neck of his wedding date in Roman numerals to Megumi’s momma (or you😘)

•Got it there because he tends to rub his neck when he’s stressed, so running his hands over the ink reminds him of his life’s blessings

•Also has Megumi’s and Tsumiki’s names behind both of his ears (screw canon can’t change my mind fr)

•Has one (1) on the knuckle of his wedding ring finger of a heart his wife drew

•Hides it under the ring because it embarrasses him to show other people but loves to look at it when he’s alone

•Pretends to be completely fine during his procedures but is gripping his wife’s hand for dear life and biting his lip until it bleeds

•She def laughs at him for it

•Hates needles with a passion and always dreads getting new ink done but it’s always worth it in the end

RYOMEN SUKUNA

•Canon tattoos lol

•Also canon that he has his ears pieced, but he definitely got everything possible done on both ears

•Has a ton of different earrings and chains that make his appearance more regal and scary

•Has his tongue split 100% •Had a super puffy face after that procedure, and Uraume had to had to hold back laughter while assisting him through his normal daily affairs

•Nobody could take him seriously for weeks

•But when it healed he was scary as all hell

•Bridge piercing 1000%

•Didn’t really react to his procedures, however if you look closely you might see him barely squint his eyes when the needle goes through

•Got permanent bracelets because he thought they looked cool

•Small gauges

•Doesn’t let anyone touch his tattoos or piercings unless he’s being bathed or with someone he loves (you pookie🥰)

•Partly because it’s lowk sensitive for him and he doesn’t like the feeling

•Forgets to take out his earrings when he sleeps and wakes up with weird marks all over the sides of his head

•Constantly losing earring backs

•Also drops earrings all the time because his hands are huge and steps on them with the needle side up

•Poor Sukuna

My first time posting detailed hcs! Hope you like it ^^

[thejagermeister]

because i will probably never have the time/energy to write a full fic about it: here are my thoughts on max, steph, friendship, and their mothers winning honey queen.

[content warnings for abuse and death]

the summer before fourth grade, max's mom competed in the honey queen pageant and won by a landslide. she was a lovely woman, adored by everyone she met. of course she won. what her family wasn't expecting was for her to run away with the prize money.

she was never seen again. max's dad, joseph, was always the stricter parent, always quicker to anger than his wife. but after she disappeared he got worse. and worse. over the course of the summer he went from verbally berating max for his mistakes to screaming at him over invented ones.

max saw school as a safe haven. but when he returned to it after that summer, he found himself wanting to hurt his peers. no, it wasn't a want. it was a need. every night his father abused him and every day he'd pass it on to a classmate. he relished in the control it gave.

at first he was scared his dad would get worse when he found out about the bullying, but joe encouraged it. told him "good, keep them in line. be the highest on the food chain, maxwell." eventually the district gave up trying to punish him.

in fourth grade, he mostly bullied the kids that were already outcasts, like pete, richie, and ruth. so he was still close with his best friend, steph.

the summer before fifth grade, steph's mom won the honey queen pageant. this was a total surprise, because she'd never expressed interest in competing before the contestants were announced. but she did great, and she won, and she ran away with the prize money just as max's mom did the year before.

max and steph were nearly inseparable for the rest of the summer. he stuck around to protect her— if his dad started abusing him after his mom ran off, what was stopping her dad from doing the same? she clung to him because she didn't know anyone else who shared the same trauma, who knew exactly what she was going through.

solomon didn't get worse like joe had. he was always pretty cold towards his daughter. in fact, he didn't seem to hold very much grief for his wife at all. he won his first mayoral election that fall.

steph never figured it out— how could she make the connection, when she doesn't know what goes on behind closed doors at the honey festival? she couldn't have known that solomon traded his wife for wealth and power. she couldn't have known that's why nibblinephim takes a special interest in her when she summons the lords in black, years down the line.

max and steph entered middle school, joined at the hip. but year after year they grew apart, as max descended further into the unrelenting bully he became in high school. steph started hanging out with other people. max joined the football team and made strategically chosen friends to keep his status.

sometimes they saw each other at parties. once, when they both were drunk enough to start spilling secrets, they sat outside and reminisced about their mothers.

in the timelines where max dies and becomes a vengeful ghost, steph mourns that he never got away from his awful home life. when he grabs her at the waylon place and says "get behind me, i'll protect you!" for a moment she's nine years old again, nestled into max's side while her father has a campaign meeting in the other room.

in the timelines where he doesn't die, she's the leader of the nerds' quest to "teach max how to be nice." she knows him better than anyone at school, after all. not many people remember the loud, distracted, but caring and protective kid that he used to be.

[caxsthetic]

WITH EACH FLAW — hirugami sachirou

In which Hirugami believed everyone around him was perfect. And he wanted nothing but to be like them. Especially when you were also one in his eyes.

Hirugami Sachirou always strived for perfection.

Ever since he saw the way his older brother got into prestigious schools, well-known to be the star athlete, beating even his upperclassmen — Sachirou believed he could do the same. He always adored volleyball. Seeing how those boys and girls his age were flying so high to either block the incoming ball, or spike through the opponent’s field.

It was always a mesmerising sight. Especially the tears in those eyes after a match. Whether their team wins or loses, each drop of it becomes a proof of their hard work.

He wanted to be a part of it so bad. To feel the euphoria, the fiery emotion of those who play volleyball passionately. It took him years to realise that maybe, he wasn’t cut out for it.

His calloused fingers subconsciously caressed his left knuckles. Covered with gauze as he once again, accidentally scraped the back of his hand to the stone walls he passed when he walked home from school. 

If Hoshiumi heard about it, oh he knew he was in for a scolding. That friend of his wasn’t really the quiet type of guy. But he could be like a little angry bird yapping about how he shouldn’t have done it. 

Sure Hoshiumi was calm and collected when he first saw the middle blocker do it for the first time back in the day. But when he found his friend did it again sometimes, he would grit his teeth and shout at him to take care of it.

It wasn’t like Hirugami was a man who liked to hurt himself. The act was more like some kind of punishment to himself. His subconscious mind did it. Whenever he felt like a failure that day. Probably from not being able to focus one hundred percent at practice or feeling god damn awful at some sparring match with another school.

Just like today. Stupidly, just like today, of all the time this week.

It was the time where you would visit him. The last time he saw you was three months ago. Before the start of Spring High-Nagano Prefecture Representative Playoffs. Now, Kamomedai has of course made it to the top 16, and will be participating in the Spring High National Tournament.

He wondered if you would be there too. Supporting your high school. Just like how you always did back when you wore the same uniform as his. 

“I will miss you.”

The day finally came. Hirugami thought he would be ready for this moment. “It’s weird to not be able to go to school with you, Sachi.” But as he hugged you tight, patting your head to ease your mind as you sob in his arms, he realised he wasn’t. 

“Hey now, it’s just a four hour ride between us.”

You had known him since diapers. Your house was basically side by side, spending every day together as both of your parents had been best friends since your family moved here. But now, you have to move again. Your father got a promotion and was assigned to Tokyo.

There was nothing you could do but follow them. Much to your dismay.

It was time for you to go. But your parents let you say goodbye to the Hirugami family. They knew how much you cherished your time here. Your childhood was a great one, filled with laughter and love from a lot of people. So for you to leave it behind, leaving Sachirou behind — it would need time for you to adjust to your new life.

The sun hadn’t even come out from its hiding place. No one could see the tears glossed in his chocolate orbs as he kept you there in his embrace. The sky was still dark. And none of you had the heart to let go of each other. “We will text each other, (Y/n). You don’t have to worry about anything.”

You nodded. He could feel it with the way your head was still snuggled deep on his chest. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He felt like his heart was so close to failing. Hirugami thought he would have time to be with you. He already made sure no boys ever get too close to you. His figure by your side was enough to intimidate them. But now, you would be a hundred miles apart.

It tortured him when he had to pull away. The footsteps of your parents reminding you and him that it was time to go. “I will see you later, (Y/n).”

There was no goodbye. He believed there wasn’t. Not when he could always take the train. Not when you could also do the same, visiting each other once in a while.

The two of you would make time.

Even though perhaps, it wouldn’t be much, but… he was glad the bond between you two never snapped. He just hoped that one day, it would be stronger. Even compared to now.

“Sachi~!” He flinched when he heard that familiar voice calling out his name. His hand immediately found its usual hiding spot – his pocket. “Hey, Sachi! Auntie said you have practice today, so I decided to check on it. Is it over?”

“Hey, (Y/n)! Yes, it’s done, actually.” There you were. Always a sight to see. His lips curled into a smile when you met him halfway. Jogging excitedly towards him once he looked at you. “Sorry.”

“Why in the world would you apologise?!” You hissed. Your banana coloured tracksuit made you look so bright under the evening sky. Then again, even if you wore all black, he would still think you were brighter than the stars up there. “I should have asked too before. I could tell my Coach that I needed to go to Nagano, he would have understood.”

You met his pace. Walking beside your childhood friend with the usual comforting atmosphere surrounding the two of you. “I am sorry too, for not being able to visit the last few months.”

“You shouldn’t have to apologise too.” He chuckled, seeing the pout that now formed on your face. “We were both in different school, different cities now. Both also teenagers who had too much on their plate. Busy with activities, right?”

Your eyes darted towards his figure. No longer on the road. Hirugami was afraid that you could see him through sometimes. Your eyes were calculating, always being able to read people’s mind with their behaviour and choice of words. But thankfully, you never poke him about it. Being mindful of his — issues.

“You’re right.” 

You kicked the pebbles on the street, probably hitting yourself in the head for not being able to make time to visit. It wasn’t like you were the only one. Hirugami was supposed to be the one who went to Tokyo this month, and yet he couldn’t with how stressful the sparring matches were these days. 

Even before you moved out of town, you often blamed yourself when things didn’t go how you wanted it to be. For example, in the first year of middle school. You helped your school volleyball’s team get footage of the opponent’s match. There was an option to send it, or you could pick it up.

You chose the former. But it never arrived even until the match ended.

It ended with a loss from their team, and he found you crying outside the gymnasium a few minutes after. You were not even the manager, just a girl whose best friend was a part of the volleyball team. Nothing else but that.

And yet you were so hard on yourself. Putting the blame on you, even when you weren’t the one in the field. 

In a way, Hirugami realised that the two of you were similar.

Not the same, but quite mirroring each other.

Always picking on one’s flaw, the mistake that was made. Even though it was probably not something to be considered as a mistake to begin with. 

The walk back home was always filled with silence. Most of the time it was. And the two of you never complained about it. The comfortable silence was one you always missed. Nagano wasn’t like Tokyo. The night wasn’t as bizarre and loud. It was peaceful here.

Just like all the time you spent with Hirugami. And oftentimes, you wondered if he knew how much of the effect that he had on your life.

“Do you want to buy something?” His voice was gentle as he pointed his hand towards the convenience store. “That one is new, and there’s a strawberry ice cream.”

“Oh, you would love that, wouldn't you?” You let out a chuckle, remembering how he used to eat that flavour every time you went out somewhere. “Sure, let’s go!”

You bought one strawberry ice cream in a cup, while he decided to go with the cone one. Unlike him, you couldn’t eat fast. You once bought the cone with him back in middle school, a chocolate flavoured one. It was all dripping down the road like some kind of blood on the pavement.

Whenever you walked past the garden near the suburb, you would be able to see it. Despite four years having passed ever since then, the remnants of such a tragic waste of an ice cream was still visible. “I can’t believe it.”

“Yeah, it’s never gone.” Hirugami knew what you meant by your exasperated sigh. You sat on the same bench from that time, and your eyes instantly went down to the tree across from you. “It’s cute, isn’t it? Only the two of us knew what the dots meant. Do you know that some kids said it was blood from scary killers that the murderer never found?”

“That thing exists?!”

“Uhuh! They believed it when their parents used it to scare them away. To make sure those kids didn’t roam around alone, you know?”

“Adults, I swear to God.”

Then another silence engulfed the two of you. You were often curious when the talkative Sachirou slowly lost its will to talk. After your parents had to move away to another town, you followed them. Despite still being in contact with your childhood friend, just like what he said, it wasn’t the same.

Not when you two, who used to spend every waking hour together, reduced to be mere friends who were one type away. You wouldn’t lie that sometimes, you missed that childhood of yours. But people come and go, indeed. You should have been grateful he never truly left.

Ever since you walked with him. Your eyes kept going to the hand that he kept inside his pocket. You wanted to ask. So many times you were curious why.

But if he didn’t want to talk about it, then, who were you to ask?

You were not that close anymore. Despite how every time you spent time with him felt like you never parted ways, you knew the bond between you two wasn’t as tight as before. It wasn’t as grandiose, getting thinner by each day that passed.

“How is your day in Tokyo?”

“Itachiyama is hella good indeed.” You whispered under your breath. Hissing a bit when the ice cream numbs your gums for a second there. “I watched the Volleyball team practise sometimes. Everyone is top notch. They came from private middle school, most of them are.”

“Anyone caught your eye?”

“There is this one guy…”

Hirugami was only trying to tease you. He didn’t expect that immediate answer. “Sakusa Kiyoomi. He’s a little bit weird, closed off and all.” He didn’t expect his heart to ache when you continued your words. “But I never saw someone as resilient as him at the court. His body’s also flexible, like a human thin metal.”

This was what he always feared ever since you moved to Tokyo. For you to find someone to admire, to spend your time with. Replacing the place that once belonged to him.

He shouldn’t have felt jealous when he saw you talking about someone else. Shouldn’t have been so upset when he never said anything regarding his feelings towards you. It was his fault for not making a move, always believing there would be a proper time for that.

Now though, for someone who could read the action that the opponent would take at the court, he couldn’t even read this predicament he had with you. He was unsure how the future would unravel. No longer he hoped things would bloom into something more between you and him.

“He sounds perfect.” He whispered, finishing the strawberry ice cream that started to drip down the pavement. “The perfect athlete, I knew him. Saw his profile in one of the magazines a few months ago.”

His voice was slightly laced with bitterness. If you notice it, he was glad you didn’t try to point it out.

Sakusa Kiyoomi. A man he never was. An athlete he could never be. He wondered what was going inside your mind when you talked about the man. There was this amusement visible on your face. He was curious, but he didn’t want to ask about it.

Hirugami was afraid that the answer — would only tear the last part of his confidence of having you.

“Perfect, huh?” You mused, your peripheral vision caught his slightly slouched figure. “I don’t think there’s ever a man who could be considered perfect. Humans were bound to have flaws.” Your friend was deep in his thoughts, probably one that ruined himself. 

“Flaws, I don’t like having too much of it.”

“I know.” You whispered, barely above a whisper because you never once wanted to reveal this part of you. “It’s instinct sometimes. We want to do our best when we do something, especially the one that we love.”

“Yeah, it’s awful if I can’t do things right.’

“Is it volleyball?” Hirugami was taken aback by your question. “Or is there something else that you are trying to say to me?” The way your eyes lingered on him this time as you scoot closer to him on this small bench. “Which flaw is running in your head this time, Sachi?”

Every one of them.

He wanted to say it out loud. He wanted to just tell you that he had this huge storm that never once ended. That threw him to the ground whenever he just spread his wings to fly. And maybe, that same storm was the reason why never said anything about his feelings harboured towards you.

Because how would he be supposed to love you when even he couldn’t love himself entirely? He couldn’t give everything, not when he too was unwhole.

He could only give you slivers of his heart. And for someone who cared for him with every fibre in their being, you didn’t deserve to receive just some specks of dust.

“It’s volleyball.” He lied again. “I made a mistake today. I calculate their movement wrong. My fingertips couldn’t reach the ball on time, and—”

“Just one.” In the middle of having his mind running hundred miles per hour, he didn’t realise that you took his left hand out of his pocket. “You only made one mistake, Sachi. It was nothing compared to all of your success in the match today, I am sure of that.”

He panicked inside. The way your fingertips gently traced his covered knuckles. It warmed him up inside, but, Please don’t ask. Don’t ask about it, please. Please. Please. He wasn’t ready if he had to answer what happened.

“But I—”

“You are still the Sachi I knew since I was a kid, despite all of the flaws and mistakes you have made along the way.” Your words became a lullaby. Allowing the creepy monster residing in his head to sleep for a while. “Aren’t I the same in your eyes? I made mistakes too, Sachi, I did things that I can’t even forgive myself sometimes, but I am still your childhood friend, right?”

“Of course.” He could answer it in a heartbeat. “You will always be my — friend.”

You peered at his face, smiling softly that if he couldn’t compose himself, the tip of his ears might redden. There were so many things running inside his head. Worry, anxiety, anger, everything were addressed to himself.

Only when he was around you that sometimes, that negativity slightly pushed under the rug. He hoped that one day, he could brace himself to let you in completely.

After he healed himself, maybe he would.

After he was ready to embrace the fact that perfection wasn’t something a human should ever strive for, he would.

His chocolate orbs locked with yours. You two always ignored the physical boundary in between you two. Snuggled with each other to find comfort. Your chin rested on his shoulder, and he couldn’t help but boop your nose with his forefinger, earning a small glee to tumble down from your lips.

Hirugami was honestly unsure of how the future would unfold between you and him. He knew he had to grow, to be a better person. Before he asks you out properly, you deserve the whole part of him first. 

But he didn’t have to be - perfect, now he knew that.

Because despite all of the flaws he had, you would never look at him less.

[theladycarpathia]

So @arisque has heard a LOT about my Buffy AU and while I haven't started a full fic yet, @hellcheerweek spooky prompts was the perfect chance for me to explore the universe a little bit.

Day 1 - Vampire

She’d said she was going to spend the night at Tina’s. 

This isn’t technically a lie. 

The music is so loud that Chrissy can’t hear anyone else unless they shout to her, can’t even hear herself think…which is the way she likes it. All she has to do is dance, lost in a sea of people, and get swept away by the beat. 

Tina’s parents had made the grave error of leaving town and not calling in Tina’s aunt to keep an eye on her. The invite had been extended to anyone willing to come out to Loch Nora on Friday night, which apparently is most of the school.

Chrissy hadn’t taken a whole lot of persuading. She’d made the cheerleading team, but even that hadn’t made her mom happy. Sometimes Chrissy thinks Laura would be happier if she could break Chrissy down into parts, lay out each segment on a table, and twist and carve it down to the daughter she really wants. Sometimes Chrissy thinks she seems to be trying anyway. 

“I’m going to get a drink!” she shouts, gesturing to the kitchen. No one really acknowledges her except for Tina who just nods in return. Carol and Tommy disappeared half an hour ago and Chrissy’s pretty certain that they’re continuing the grand tradition of having sex on other peoples’ beds. 

She pushes her way through the crowds of bodies, narrowly avoiding being elbowed in the head, and slips into the kitchen. The usual punch bowl is there, and she’s already figured out to avoid it. But she has the advantage of knowing where Tina’s family keep their spare sodas. 

She ducks out of the back door, grateful for the cool air. Inside her skin had grown hot and slightly tacky, even in her little dress. The garage door is locked, but Chrissy easily finds the key, hidden on top of the door frame. 

It’s still not completely quiet out here but at least she’s alone. The spare fridge hums quietly along the far wall, next to Mr Cline’s tools and hedge trimmer. Chrissy tugs open the door and grabs for a can of lemonade, the can blissfully cool. She’s drained almost half of it the second she’s cracked the tab.

From here she can still hear the music, and she wonders how the cops haven’t been called yet. But the Morrisons on the other side are elderly and might not notice the music so easily. And the local police usually let a party slide, unless they get numerous complaints. 

She should go back in. She should let Jason dance with her, because he’s made it clear that he’s impatient being kept at arm’s length. It was fine to be linked together in middle school, to have a partner for school dances but now it feels serious. She doesn’t want to be like her mom - marrying her high school boyfriend, because it’s the only option, and letting the cage she chose make her more bitter and miserable with every passing year. 

But when she emerges back outside, the September breeze lifting the curls around her shoulders, something catches her eye.

Chrissy stops. She just saw someone move inside the Morrisons’ front room. 

The Morrisons have lived next to Tina for years. Mrs Morrison bakes oatmeal cookies and always encourages Chrissy to have another. Mr Morrison used to let them come over to use his grandson’s trampoline, until they got too old. Chrissy knows that the figure - young, slim, dark-haired - isn’t either one of the Morrisons. 

It might be their son. But she’s met him, and he’s a man in his forties, with graying hair and wire-rimmed glasses. This isn’t him. 

Something uncomfortable churns in her belly. Maybe there’s another reason why the Morrisons haven’t reported the party to the police. 

She takes a look back at the house behind her. It’s filled with people and she should go get anyone of them to accompany her. Jason maybe, or Patrick. Even Tina would come with her, if she went back and asked. 

But she doesn’t go back and ask. She strides down Tina’s drive and hops across the Morrisons lawn. Their drive is empty, Mr Morrison’s prized corvette tucked away in the garage. There’s a Beemer further down the street, something expensive and new, and she wonders if it belongs to someone at the party, who didn’t want to risk their car getting scratched. 

The house is dark when she reaches the front door, which worries her further still. Surely they can’t be asleep with the noise next door? Maybe their hearing is that bad, or Mr Morrison misplaced his hearing aid again. 

But she knocks on the door anyway, pounding loudly to be heard. 

“Mr Morrison?” she calls. She feels slightly sick - she’s either about to disturb an old couple or there’s something seriously wrong here. “Mrs Morrison? It’s Chrissy Cunningham. I’m a friend of Tina’s?”

But there’s no answer. She peers around to look in the front windows and it occurs to her now that all of the curtains are open. She looks up to be sure and every single one is wide open. 

Why would they leave all of their curtains open? Every other house on the street, save Tina’s, has them closed. And every other house has some form of lights on, a lamp, a porch-light, something. 

Unless someone didn’t want to risk being seen under bright lights. Like the person that Chrissy saw inside the house. 

Chrissy takes a shaky step back, her legs suddenly threatening to give way. The feeling in her body is now screaming at her, telling her that every part of this is wrong. She needs to go back to Tina’s house to use the phone. 

But before she can, there’s a sharp pain in her head, like someone has dug their fingers deep into her scalp. She shrieks and stumbles, her ankle giving way beneath her so that she lands on the grass. But none of that matters, because what she sees in front of her eyes isn’t the clouded night sky, or the quiet mausoleum of the Morrisons house. 

And when it ebbs away she’s left panting, lying on her back on the front lawn. And for a second she wonders if she’s going mad, because she saw, crystal clear, two people breaking into the Morrisons’ back door. It was like she’d been there - she heard the lock break, just audible underneath the sound of the wind chimes. She saw one of them move around, quietly turning off lights. She saw both of them slipping upstairs, barely making a sound on the steps. 

Chrissy pushes herself up on one elbow, even though this makes her head scream in agony. It’s almost tempting to lie back down, let her limbs sink into the coolness of the grass, but unless she’s crazy, someone really did break in. 

If she’d had any of the punch, she might be more willing to believe she was seeing things. But she is painfully sober and has no such luxury. 

She stumbles to her feet, wobbling on shaking legs. She doesn’t know how she saw it or why, just that it has a cost. She’s in no shape to help anyone but she has to try. 

“Mr Morrison!” she shouts, and pounds her open palm on the door. She knows she’s not going to get an answer but she doesn’t know what else to do. 

The dark shape that appears in the window next to her doesn’t even really look human.His face is twisted, with hard ridges across his nose and forehead, mouth slightly too wide like it was made to fit extra teeth. His eyes are the worst, gleaming bright yellow, like something from one of her brother’s video games. 

Chrissy freezes - she can’t help it. Perhaps for the first time she understands what it’s like to be prey, fixed on the spot under the gaze of something hungry. She’s made a mistake by catching his attention. 

Then he vanishes from the window and Chrissy jerks, as though she’s been released from a spell. She only has a second before panic sets in - he saw her. He saw her face. Even if she runs back to the party, it’s not like she can go anywhere. No one is in a fit state to drive her home. 

But the door opens and the face she sees there isn’t the one she expects. 

“Get in!” the school librarian hisses at her, holding out a hand urgently. Chrissy doesn’t move because something about this man has always given her the creeps. She avoids the school library as much as possible, preferring the large public one in town. Something about the dark stacks, the unusual leather-bound books he keeps behind the counter, even the dusty old suits he wears, all make her hair stand on end. And now he’s here, in the darkened doorway of her friends’ neighbors, at the same time as someone - something - terrifying.

“Hurry up!” he snaps and Chrissy moves forward, perhaps against her better judgment, into the stillness of the house. 

Or maybe not that still. 

The front room is still occupied by that man but a young woman has now joined him. Chrissy only has a moment to stare before Mr Bauman pulls her back, tucking her behind the banister of the stairs. There are two other figures there too, young and lanky, but they don’t hold her attention as much as the fight in the front room. 

She knows this girl. They go to school together. She’s wearing combat boots, a sturdy jacket, and she ducks and dodges as the man tries to hit her. She’s fast on her feet, avoiding every swipe of his long, jagged nails. He tries to lunge for her, and misses, and she takes the opportunity to lash out. Her arm strikes, deadly and precise, driving a thick stake into the center of his chest. Chrissy stifles a shriek but his face only shows brief surprise before he fades into dust. 

“Good shot,” Mr Bauman comments, as the girl brushes dust off her arm. She only looks vaguely annoyed, as though men turning to pieces of ash flaking gently on the Morrisons’ carpet is an everyday occurrence. “Even with the unexpected…interruptions.”

All too late, Chrissy realizes that he’s looking at her. 

“They’re all too cocky,” the girl complains, nudging at the pile of dust with her toe. “Do we need to clean this up?”

“Is that part of our job now?” one of the boys asks, and when he moves out of the darkness behind the banister, Chrissy gets a better look at his face. She knows him too - it’s Jonathan Byers, from the school paper. “Cleaning up afterwards?”

“No, it is not,” Mr Bauman says, tensely. “We’ll let Hopper know…I’ll leave a message with the usual code. The better question is, why is a cheerleader here?”

“There’s a party next door,” another voice says, the final occupant. Chrissy doesn’t ask why two boys and a grown man were hiding behind the stairs, while a fifteen year old girl fights. They’re all carrying the same weapons, a heavy stake, sharpened to a point, except for the boy in front of her, who has a bat hanging from his fingers. It takes her a second to realize that her eyes aren’t tricking her, but the odd shape of the wood is from dozens of nails being driven into the end. “Tina’s thing.”

As if this night couldn’t get any weirder - Steve Harrington, King Steve, is staring at her like she doesn’t belong here. 

“What just happened?” Chrissy asks and is a little surprised at how faint her voice sounds. Maybe the strange visions took that too. The four all look at each other and in that moment, Chrissy realizes a few things. That none of this is unusual for them, and that despite their various differences, they’re here working together. 

“That,” the girl says, pointing down at the floor. “Was a vampire. We’ve been tracking him for a while. We were pretty sure that someone was working Loch Nora. Too many break ins lately. So I staked him.”

“Robin!” Mr Bauman says, looking put out. And a vague memory pushes itself to the front of Chrissy’s head. The Hawkins High band, in fresh green outfits and white gloves, a sea of faces…or perhaps not. Because the girl staring back at Chrissy, her gaze cool, is one of those people that she’s seen out of the corner of her eye on so many mornings. 

“She just saw it,” Robin protests. “It’s not like we can hide it!”

“A little discretion might be advised,” Mr Bauman continues, looking tired. Chrissy kind of can’t blame him. She’s been involved in this mess for five minutes and she’s already exhausted. “It’ll do us no good if your position as the Slayer is revealed to the world by the school paper!”

“Chrissy’s okay,” Steve offers, thumping his bat against one of the mahogany side tables. “She won’t tell.”

“And we wouldn’t publish that anyway!” Jonathan says indignantly. Chrissy doesn’t stop to ask for any further detail - what is a Slayer anyway? - because she’s busy looking around. The rest of the house is quiet, no creaking of footsteps overhead. 

“Where’s the other one?” she asks and is met by four very startled faces. 

“What other one?” Steve asks, tilting his head.

“The other one,” Chrissy says and wraps her arms around herself. They’re all dressed sensibly, thick material prepared for the warmth and any oncoming attacks but she’s wearing a little black dress that brushes her thighs. “I saw…” she trails off, because she didn’t really see, did she? She never went around the back of the house. 

Mr Bauman is looking at her with a strange expression. “And where exactly,” he inquires carefully. “Did you see that?”

“I don’t know,” Chrissy says weakly. “I was at the party and I noticed it was all dark over here. I knocked on the door and there was no answer.”

“Did you see two people?” Mr Bauman pushes. Chrissy licks her lips. She’s going to sound crazy…but what if she’s not? What if there really are two and there’s another vampire roaming free? There’s a party of kids next door, all too high on music and alcohol to be anything other than easy pickings.

“I saw two people come in the back door,” she says hesitantly. “They turned off all the lights and went upstairs…I can’t explain how I saw it but I swear, I-” Mr Bauman holds up a hand. There’s something oddly delighted about his face and she’s not sure she likes the satisfaction there. 

“How interesting,” he says and moves across to her. “I thought your eyes looked a little bloodshot but I just thought that was from the party…does your head hurt? Eyes feel sensitive? Do you feel weak and disoriented?”

“What the fuck, Murray?” Steve asks, stalking across to where Murray is peering into Chrissy’s eyes. “Can we not dissect her?” But Murray has already taken a step back, looking triumphant. 

“She’s a seer,” he says and Robin guffaws. 

“She can’t be,” she says, looking back at Chrissy in disbelief. “She’s a cheerleader. I thought you said true seers are really rare…”

“Is it so hard to believe in Hawkins?” Mr Bauman asks, tucking his stake into his pocket. “She has all the signs. I don’t believe she went around the back of the house - chances are we would have seen her as we came in that way ourselves. And I doubt she was here much longer than a few minutes or the vampire would have found her sooner. So how did she see two vampires? And she has all the symptoms. It’s not an easy thing, receiving a vision. Excruciatingly painful, I’ve heard…and you definitely saw more than one?”

“There’s two,” Chrissy says, looking around at each skeptical face. She’s worried that they won’t believe her but they also just staked a vampire, so she finds that a touch unfair. “I saw two.” Ha! Like I said!

“I fucking told you,” Steve says, sounding disgruntled. He sweeps his hair back from his face, a motion Chrissy must have seen hundreds of times. Normally he does it carefully, aimed at whatever girl has taken his fancy, but this is brisk, efficient. 

“Well, sorr-ee,” Robin snaps back tensely. “I wasn’t expecting vampires to get a taste for rich people.”

“They’re vampires!” Steve says back incredulously, throwing out his arms. “They’re not picky!”

“Alright, children,” Mr Bauman snaps, effectively cutting off the argument. “That’s enough. We have bigger problems afoot here.”

Something about his tone is unsettling. She’s not sure what he’s doing here, like he’s leading three teenagers into battle. She gathers that Robin is something special, but the rest of the dynamics she hasn’t quite worked out yet. The loner, the misfit, and the jock, all here under the lead of the school librarian. 

“I think she’s right,” Mr Bauman says, gesturing to Chrissy with the end of his stake. “It doesn't make sense otherwise. There would have been noise, some screaming. It wouldn’t be possible unless there were two.”

“Two for what?” Chrissy asks suspiciously and the room goes very quiet. Jonathan will no longer meet her eyes. Even Steve looks uncomfortable, an unhappy twist to his mouth. She takes off up the stairs before any of them can stop her, adrenaline pushing her legs to move faster than they ever have done before. 

The terrible feeling earlier now made sense. 

The Morrisons had gone to bed. They’re lying silently, side by side, Mr Morrison in pinstripes, Mrs Morrison in a flowered nightdress. They’re on their backs, faces still and peaceful like they hadn’t even known that they had died. 

It was only the neat holes pierced in their necks, each one wearing a matching pair, blood beginning to dry and crust on their skin that gave away the truth. 

The only consolation is that the music will ensure no one else hears her scream.

[explorationsoftheid]

Autism: A Senior Perspective

Recently there was a post on here where someone was saying how everyone automatically hates us because of our autism. How they may act nice to our face, but trash talk us once we’re out of earshot. How everyone will abuse, even kill us, because they can’t stand our autism. I replied that they were just wrong about that. That everyone doesn’t automatically hate us.

The more I thought about it though, the more I saw this was an opportunity for those of us who are older and are autistic, to share our perspectives, our experiences. I think it might help those who are young to know what we went through, how we coped, how our lives have turned out. Most importantly that it can get better.

I’ll start:

I’m 62 years old. Looking back with what I know now it’s clear that I was definitely autistic as a child. Today, my teachers would have pressed to get me tested, but in the 1970s, well autism wasn’t on anyones radar. I doubt my parents would have gone along with that anyway. They were the, “Straighten up and do what you’re supposed to”, and “Boys don’t cry” attitude so common of their generation. I had significant trouble with social interactions, I stuttered, and fought like hell to not melt down in loud and overwhelming situations. Public school was unfortunately full of those. I liked procedure and process, there was a right way and a wrong way to do things and I would get upset if someone broke ‘the rules’. I would obsess over particular subjects. Actually I drove some of my teachers nuts. They would give me a writing assignment and I would turn in a top quality report, but I would have somehow twisted what they wanted into what I wanted to write about.

High School was very confusing. People started dating and going to dances, and all that. I kept asking, only half as a joke if I had missed a class or something because it was all so strange to me. I went off to University and really did well there. My grades weren’t good, (I had to work well over full time to afford to stay in school) but I loved academia. The order, the quiet of the library, being able to study a subject that I was totally onto because I had chosen it as my major. The people I worked with, at all of my jobs, grew to understand my ‘quirks’ and were fine with them. I only wish I hadn’t had to work so much. My middling grades meant that by the time I graduated, I was mentally exhausted, and didn’t qualify for Grad School.

So, I got a job and had to move across the country. There I met someone who I have spent the succeeding 36 years with. They understand me, accept that sometimes I’m a bit odd. Sometimes I react badly to things. Sometimes I just have to say no, and they roll with that.

So I’m now approaching retirement. In the last few years I finally figured out that autism was the reason for all the trouble I’ve had over the years. I’m not lazy, or dumb, or anything like that, I’m autistic. I’m neurodivergent, and that’s the way it is. The worst time frankly was in my childhood and my teens. Since then I’ve learned how to deal with the world. I’ve found people who like me for me, people I don’t have to mask or put on an act around. I’ve found other autistic people and am not the only one anymore. I figured out what jobs suited my talents, and limitations (Retail? No! Computer Wizard or someone who makes things work in the background? Yes!) I’m approaching retirement and honestly things are going pretty well now.

So fellow Autistic Seniors, (That is to say anyone that thinks of themselves as older than most), what was your experience living your life as an autistic person? How have things turned out for you? What advice would you give to children or teens that are struggling to cope?

[dumb-teambucciarati-headcanons]

Education headcanons:

Although some of these are canon

Giorno: is still in highschool, but stopped showing up for class when he joined passione. He still makes a point to always be learning, but only focuses on subjects he is interested in. He knows lots of information about the biological world, but has no idea what certain historical figures have done, unless they were particularly interesting to him. Also he sucks at spelling words correctly. In elementary school he wrote a research report on different types of bugs and accidentally released a bunch of bugs into the school and that apparently bothered some of the teachers and other students.

Bruno: he has like half of a middle school education, and his grades were never super high because he would spend time helping his dad with work instead of completing his homework. Up until his parents divorce, then his dad wanted him to focus more on school. But that stopped after his dads incident, and he started providing for him and his dad and protecting him. He asked Fugo to teach him some math, and Fugo reluctantly agreed. But Fugo will go out of his way to try to avoid having to tutor the man because Bruno has a rough time understanding simple concepts and it makes Fugo want to resort to violence. But Fugo respects Bruno and doesn’t want to snap at him because he knows he isn’t trying to piss him off, Bruno’s just dumb as fuck sometimes.

Abbacchio: has a highschool education and went to the police academy. He also has a few basic college courses under his belt. He had a “have to learn in order to get the job I want” mentality towards school, opposed to being super interested in it. He failed PE in middle school and was bullied for it so badly that he started working out everyday so that would never happen again. Also I kinda think he has a photographic memory, which his stand reflects well. He went to a Catholic highschool and his parents were upset that he hadn’t met a nice catholic girl by the time he graduated highschool.

Mista: has a highschool education and wasn’t really interested in getting any degrees, kinda just wanted to fuck around in his young adult years. Math made him cry, and not because he didn’t understand it, he was actually good at math. But the number 4 would haunt his papers. Asked a lot of questions during class. were they ever relevant? No. Did he ask them? Yes. “Hey teach, so gravity. Like what if instead of the earth having a gravitational pull some rando named, uh, Seth did. But ONLY Seth, and everyone was constantly being pulled towards Seth and if you jumped you’d land back on Seth. How would we survive as a species if that were the case?”

Narancia: elementary school dropout. Gets distracted super easily. Would rather do anything but school, however he is very sensitive about having not even finished elementary school. He will pep talk himself into wanting to learn math and things, and then he will start again and will remember why he hates school. But it’s worse when he actually goes to school and sees eight year olds that understand things better than him. opposed to Fugo tutoring him and only having to feel stupid in front of the smartest person he has ever met, like everyone else feels stupid around Fugo too so.

Fugo: you know, the gifted child that went to university super early. Smartest one in the group. He was the kid that would use his pencils entirely until they were sharpened into tiny little things you could barely hold. Also he bites his pens and pencils. He thinks the pencils are more flavorful. Oh and erasers, those tasted good too. The other kids never wanted to play with him because of his short temper, but that didn’t matter because his parents told him that only stupid kids use recess time to play. Classrooms were super overstimulating for him, with that stupid LED lighting that made him feel like he needed to blink his eyes a hundred times. And then doing that would make him feel dizzy and irritable. Like the lights were the worst amount of bright and the worst shade of the color white, and if one of the bulbs flickered he would feel like throwing up. His parents thought he had been drinking once after being in a classroom for too long, but no it was the lights.

Trish: she isn’t stupid, but she was definitely the type to get others to do her homework for her. Is in the middle of highschool. she would spend all of study hour planning elaborate schemes to skip class with her and her friends. Wanted to go to college but wasn’t sure how she was going to pay for it, her new plan involves passione money. That or she is going to become famous, if Bruno and co. would actually let her live instead of saying things like “it’s too dangerous with other mafia members knowing your name”.

[hennyjwrites]

Peaches and Cream: Chapter 1

Sighing as you pull into the school parking lot you resent your parents for bringing you back to Derry after summer break. You had missed the first month of school so technically this was your first day back. You looked in your mirror and smiled at your new look. Over summer break you changed for the better of yourself. You dabbled in makeup, worked out, got a few piercings, and ate good. You were practically glowing.

Your hair was done with your natural kinks, slightly covering your eyes in a stylish way. Before it was either a mess of a bun, or down in a poofy straight style. The lipgloss you had on gave your plump lips the shine that they needed which brought attention to your white teeth. You traded out your overly baggy outfits, for slightly tighter ones which showed your figure. You look good and you know it.

You made sure to grab your backpack which was filled with your art supply before you stepped out of the car. Your pace was slow as you walked through the double doors. Walking with your head held high, you ignored the looks from some students as they recognized you in your new state. When you made it to your locker you caught the eye of Victor Criss.

He was always your friend even though the rest of the gang didn’t pay you any attention. He always helped you with homework and projects and vice versa. You had never taken him for the bully type until you witnessed him roughing a few kids up with the rest of his little group of friends. You never understood how he got wrapped around Henry’s finger but that wasn’t your business.

Victor excused himself from the group heading towards you. You waited patiently as you opened your locker.

“Hey y/n.” He grinned, excited to see one of his closest friends. He liked that you gave him that sense of niceness that he needed after being a part of the Bowers gang for so long.

You shrugged your jacket off and threw it in the locker before shutting it. “Hey Victor!” You pulled him into a quick hug and he returned it awkwardly.

He quickly looked at you, licking his lips slightly. “You look good, what happened to ya?” He asks. Most would’ve taken offense to the question but you knew what he meant.

“Left town for a few weeks. While I was gone I reinvented myself.” You looked around and saw some of the guys who used to avoid you now staring at you. The hallways were full of kids, and they were obviously avoiding certain people. “And obviously a few people like it:'' you joked.

Before Victor could reply Henry Bowers called his name. “Bring your ass on Vic, you can talk to the whore some other time.” He smirked at you and you could tell he didn’t recognize you. Henry and his little sidekick Patrick practically terrorized you in middle school. Always pulling your curls, knocking you over, just being assholes. Their torture died down slightly when you became friends with Victor. You always assumed he told them to knock it off but you were never completely sure. Vic started inviting you to hang with them sometimes afterwards.

Vic turns back to look at you. “I gotta go, I’ll catch you at lunch alright?” He mostly tells you. You shrug your shoulders as he makes it through the swarm of kids back to Bowers. Before you turned away you caught Patrick’s glance at you. He smirked at you creepily before turning his attention back to the gang. Not knowing why, but a slight shiver ran down your body when he looked at you. You walked to your first class as the bell rang, as everyone scurried out of the hallway.

-

Walking in the cafeteria, you looked around slightly trying to find a good seat. It was noisy from everyone talking about their summer break but it was bearable. You were about to go sit with your old friend Greta but your arm was grabbed. Ready to push whoever it was off, you roughly turned around until you came face to face Vic.

“Come sit at our table Y/N the gang won’t mind.” He told you, guiding you towards their table. You walked side by side until you finally reached the seats. The two open seats were either sitting between Reggie and Henry or Victor and Patrick. “Cmon sit.” Victor beckoned you. You decided against sitting near Henry and plopped down in between Victor and Patrick. “Guys this is Y/N. '' Victor introduced.

“Hey.”

“Oh Y/N, I ‘member you.” Reggie said smiling. He has a sandwich in his hands which you were sure his momma made for him. “You helped my mama with her garden a few summers ago. You saved me a lot of work with whatever you did.” He informed you.

You smiled at him, showing off your pretty teeth. “Your mama was the sweetest woman Reggie, she still sends my family her special cookies to this day.” You smile.

He returned the smile gently before returning his attention back to his lunch. You were tapped on your shoulder. Who was brave enough to actually walk up to the Bowers table. When you turned around you were met with Jaxon Lane's sweeter than pie smile. He was one of the cutest boys you ever met and one of your long time friends. “Hey Jaxon!” You greeted smiling ear to ear.

Jaxon pulled you up into a hug which you gladly returned. “Long time no see, you look great.” Unknown to you your ass was directly in Patrick’s face. It was so round and looked so soft. Patrick was practically drooling and Henry saw the look in his eye and smirked. “Like what you're seeing Pat? Like having her ass in your face?”

“Fuck. What’s there not to like?” Patrick geowled. Your curves were poking out making your body fill in your clothes. You were one of the good things he created. You smiled slightly at Patrick’s words, not expecting him to compliment you. Patrick turned and looked at Jaxon and smiled creepily. Both him and Henry stared at him for a second. Jaxons face dropped, already preparing for the lunatic to lunge at him. “Scram.” Is all Patrick said before Jaxon turned on his heel and walked away to avoid a beating.

You sat back down in your seat and looked between Patrick and Henry. “You guys are assholes.” You muttered, stealing one of victors chips. Patrick was shamelessly staring at your boobs. Your body was enough to have him practically hypnotized. Now he just wondered what it felt like. Pat dropped his hand on your thigh and you turned to look at him. He smirked at your reaction.

“What Patrick?” You ask, looking across from you at Henry who was close to laughing. Belch and Victor were having their own conversation. He didn’t say anything but he rubbed your thigh feeling how soft you were.

“Quit drooling over the bitch Pats she still looks like the trash she was in grade school.” Henry muttered, eyeing some freshmen to find later. Henry didn’t hate you, he just didn’t find the appeal of you. Or so you thought.

You rolled your eyes. “Everyone else thinks differently, Henry.” You inform him. Patrick leaned into you and sniffed your hair. It kind of creeped you out. “You smell good. You smell like peaches.” He told you. “Makes me wonder, do you taste as good as you smell?” He asks moving his hands closer to the inside of your thigh. You stiffened slightly, grabbing the victor's attention.

He shook his head. “Pat I’m warning you, she isn’t as easy as she looks.” He says, shaking his head. You looked at him confused. How the fuck would he know that? “Tried to fuck her a few times and the girl wouldn’t even spread her legs.” Your mouth dropped. You thought he was your friend. He and everyone else at the table laughed.

Henry laughed at the thought. “Oh I see. You're too bitchy to give it up? Hear that hockstetter, she’s still fresh.” He smirked at the thought of Patrick getting his hands on you. Of course he knows how Patrick is with every girl he’s been with. Henry might not know the details but he took notice of how the girls in this town changed after dealing with Patrick. Maybe if he fucked you up in the head you would get knocked off that high horse you were already on.

If you were lighter you were sure your face would be redder than a tomato right now. Patrick laughed along with everyone else before he leaned down. “Mhm I heard, she's just waiting for someone to make her a woman. You're gonna let me make you one?” He laughed although he was deadly serious. His hand went between your legs and grabbed you. You stood up quickly, slapping him in the process. Even though everyone else was scared of him you refused to be one of those bitches who let him do what he wants.

“I wouldn’t let you fuck me if you were the richest man on earth Patrick. If you touch me like that again, I’ll break your fucking fingers.” You hissed, grabbing your backpack and walking out the cafeteria. Patrick’s face stung in pleasure as he watched you walk out. He smiled and bit his lip as your ass moved with every swag of your hips.

-

You had spent the rest of the day in the library examining art books to help with your technique. When the bell rang you quickly made your way out the building.

You shook your head as you saw the gang torturing some freshman. You decided against defending them and continued walking to your car. Patrick saw you and excused himself from the gang's activities. He called after you but it fell upon deaf ears as you continued walking at a faster pace. Patrick’s long legs gave him an advantage because he was behind you in seconds. He bit his lip as he brought his hand down, slapping and gripping your ass. Fuck it was so soft and his whole hand still didn’t cover it all.

You froze in your steps and turned to see Patrick who was staring at you with lust in his eyes. His pupils were wide as he looked. “Fuck your ass is soft. You smell and feel like a fresh peach.” He told you.

“Thanks but don’t touch me like that.” You muttered, continuing to walk. Patrick trailed behind you as you walked to your car. You unlocked your doors and hopped in thinking you were leaving Patrick behind. He went to the other side and got in the passenger seat. “What’re you doing?” You asked, throwing your stuff in the backseat. You weren’t nervous or anything, just confused.

“I can’t sit in my girlfriend's car now, peaches?” He teased, letting his arm fall in the armrest. You grimaced at the nickname and started the car.

“Girlfriend?” You questioned turning your body toward him.

He smiled and nodded his head. “You're my girlfriend now, peaches.” He informed you. When you stare at him his smile drops. “Is that a problem?” He growled, hand already twitching. Not gonna lie it scared you how he could just switch like that’s

You pulled off out the parking lot. “Nah not a problem, just stop calling me peaches.” You muttered, hating the name.