#i swear there is a happy ending
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these two are so interesting to me
characters belong to @canisalbus
#clenches fists. im so sosososo normal about them. i think about them a normal amount (lying)#actually the 2nd image is based on some sort of anime couple pose template(?????) that i saw a while back and wanted to draw them in it#but i swear to god i CANNOT FUCKING FIND IT. i was literally knee deep in yuri and yaoi fanart for hours trying to find that god damn photo#but i dont even know who the characters were and pinterest just shows me bakugou and deku making out sloppy style whenever i try#so i gave up an tried drawing it from memory and cried the whole time. i hate anatomy.. but they look so happy so its fine#god whenever i see Lore or sweet little tidbits for these two i want to tear into something with my teeth and throw something /pos#i genuinely want to study these gay little renaissance dogs under a microscope#what fucks me up is the fact that we all know it ends horribly but u cant help loving them anyway.. they are so. incoherent hand gestures#my art#myart#others ocs#vasco#machete#vaschete#furry art#fur#anthro
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Steddie Amnesia Ficlet: 2/3
-> Part 1 | Part 3 | AO3
cw: more head trauma/concussed!Steve discussions.
Steve hears Eddie call after him, but he doesn’t stop—he can’t face it. Not right now, anyway. Not when his eyes are stinging and his heart is pounding in his ears, each pulse more painful than the last. His legs take him to the building he’s supposed to go into, fueled purely by muscle memory. Not brain memory, of course, because nothing up there works properly anymore, apparently.
The Brain Injury Recovery Center.
It’s where Eddie expects him to go. He’ll catch Steve if he goes in, or he’ll wait for Steve by the doors until he comes back out—both options involve facing Eddie after Steve had made a total idiot of himself. Both feel utterly mortifying.
So he ducks into the alleyway beside the familiar brick building instead, just to catch his breath. It takes Steve longer than the average bear to sort out his feelings now, after all. Jesus, who’s he kidding? Everything seems to take him longer.
Steve feels hot tears streak down his cheeks before he angrily scrubs a sleeve over them. Of course Eddie isn’t his boyfriend. Eddie’s funny and cool and he’s in a band and he lights up every damn room he walks into—and Steve… well, maybe Steve was something a few years ago when he was in high school, and maybe he was even something before his accident, but now…
There’s a sharp clapping noise that sounds like thunder. A door slamming, Steve’s brain sluggishly supplies. It’s followed by shouting.
“Steve? Steve!” Eddie calls from somewhere on the street.
Steve’s heart feels like it’s going to fall out of his ass. His face is probably still blotchy and wet, his breathing hasn’t evened out yet and his eyes are still leaking like a goddamn faucet. He’s pathetic.
Can’t let Eddie see him like this…
He ducks behind a metal garbage bin, careful not to let anything but the bottom of his sneakers touch the sticky looking surfaces around him. It stinks, like rot.
“Steve?” Eddie’s voice echoes off of the alleyway walls. Steve claps a hand around his mouth to muffle out any of the pathetic sounds that seem determined to escape from him. So much of his body just does whatever the hell it feels like now. Out of Steve’s control, like everything else.
For a few, tense seconds, there’s silence. Eddie’s listening for him, maybe. Steve shuts his eyes and waits him out.
It feels like an eternity before he hears Eddie’s hurried, retreating footsteps, continuing his shouting for Steve. He sounds almost as panicked as Steve feels. Almost.
Steve gives a noisy, wet sniff and does one final scrub of his face before getting to his feet. He starts walking.
As he goes deeper into the alleyway, he thinks back on all the things he’s been wrong about. The fact that Eddie had some of his band t-shirts mixed in with Steve’s clothes… well, that was because they were both guys who wore about the same size, and Eddie left his shit everywhere. It’s no wonder some of his stuff got mixed into their laundry. And the times Eddie’s driven him places? That’s just… what friends do, Steve supposes. And all those times Eddie made Steve laugh? Made him feel like the center of the universe? Well, that’s just… Eddie. He must make everyone feel that way. It’s like his super power. But it isn’t romantic… It doesn’t mean anything more than Eddie being a magnetic person.
Steve is just so stupid. Painfully so.
He blinks as the sun hits him. He must’ve reached the other side of the alleyway.
Steve cups a hand over his eyes and grimaces. His migraine wasn’t backing down. He sighs. Time to head back.
Steve turns back into the alleyway he’d emerged from, only he’s about halfway through when he realizes the color of the buildings on either side of him are wrong. They’re brown on one side, painted green on the other. That isn’t right…
His heart jackrabbits in his chest, but he keeps walking forward. Maybe he’ll recognize the street once he’s back on the other side.
But when he gets there, it’s as unfamiliar to him as the alleyway. Steve turns, looking up and down the road to see if he could spot Eddie, or his van, or the Center. But there’s nothing.
And when someone shoulder checks him, Steve supposes he was sort of asking for it, standing in the middle of the sidewalk like that. He apologizes, but it’s too late. The person’s already out of range to hear him.
It’s as if everyone else is on fast forward while Steve’s stuck on pause. The world keeps moving along while all he seems to be able to do is watch it go by.
Why would he ever think someone as dynamic and spirited as Eddie would hitch his horse onto Steve’s busted up, barely mobile cart?
Stupid, stupid, stupid…
He presses the heels of his hands to his eyes and wills himself not to start blubbering again like a goddamn baby. His life is already one big, painful lesson in humility as it is, he doesn’t need to wallow in it.
Steve keeps walking. Figures he’ll spot something, or someone familiar to him eventually. The pounding in his head’s eased off to a dull ache, at least. Maybe there was something to this exercise and fresh air thing the doctors were always going on about, after all…
The thing is though, Steve doesn’t spot anything familiar. Not even vaguely so, and it’s not until the streetlights turn on that he realizes he’d spent the majority of the day wandering around the streets like some lost dog that managed to slip his leash.
It’s cold too, and all he’s got on is jeans and a polo. It’s October, isn’t it? No wonder he’s got goosebumps all up and down his arms.
Then, he finally spots something familiar; a phone booth. Steve breathes a sigh of relief. He’d just call his parents. They’d come pick him up.
He gets the booth and lifts the receiver before he blanks. A quarter. He’d need that. Duh, Harrington. So he hangs up the phone and pats his pockets until he finds a wallet, but all that’s inside of it are a couple of crisp bills. He’d need to break one.
Steve turns, scans the street until he spots a well lit, invitingly warm looking diner. The joint looks so damn cozy that he forgets to make sure the street is clear before he steps out into the middle of it.
Tires screech, harmonizing with the horn that’s blasting at him—Steve flinches, reaching up to cover his head and braces for impact.
To his great relief, the hit never comes. Which, thank fuck. He can’t afford anymore accidents. As it is Robin’s threatened to make him wear a helmet full-time.
Steve doesn’t listen to whatever the person yells at him, he just hurries to get the hell out of his way of the other moving vehicles.
“Smooth, Harrington. Real smooth.” He mutters to himself as he catches his breath.
He pushes the door to the diner open with shaking hands, but it’s blissfully peaceful inside, and he can actually feel his insides unclench as he stands inside of it.
“Sit anywhere, hun, I’ll be right with you.” A woman’s voice tells him. Steve nods and slips into the nearest booth overlooking the street. Watches the cars go by. There’s even a couple of cop cars, sirens blaring, lights flashing. Steve wonders briefly what sort of emergency they’re rushing off to when the waitress comes to his table.
“What can I get you, handsome?” She asks, cheery and warm like the rest of the diner.
“Uh…” Steve frowns, taking a few seconds to process the question, “nothing. I’m just waiting for my parents to come pick me up.”
The waitress taps the side of the notepad. “Well you gotta order something, hun, or you can’t stay here.”
Steve wants to stay here. It’s warm and smells fucking amazing, like “pancakes?”
She waitress smirks. “Yeah, we got those. You want a stack?”
“Yeah, please.” Steve smiles back, laughing along with the waitress like he’s in whatever joke that’s currently so amusing to her. “I’m starving.”
“You want some coffee too, to help you sober up, maybe?”
“Oh, I’m not drunk.” He huffs out a little self deprecating laugh, “I wish. No, I—uh, my meds, they’re the kind that you can’t mix with alcohol. Coffee too. Bummer, right? Yeah… But, uh, it is what it is, I guess—so…”
He can feel it. The way his mind so often wanders. He’s lost his train. His track. He frowns, eyes drifting towards the street again, watching the headlights zip by.
“…so just the pancakes then?” The waitress asks, jolting his train back onto its rails. His attention snaps back onto her.
“Yeah, pancakes. Sure.” Steve flashes her what he hopes is a charming smile.
She returns his smile and leaves him be, and he lets himself relax. Props his head up on a fist and watches life go on for everyone else but him.
He gets his pancakes, and some juice too that he doesn’t remember ordering, but hey, that’s nothing new. And damn, the pancakes taste even better than they smell. He needs to remember the name of this place so he can come back with everyone. What did the doctors say? Repeat something in your head over and over until it sticks. Repetition. Repetition, repetition, repetition…
It’s around the time his fork hits an empty plate that one of the police cars stops in front of the diner window, lights on, but the sirens are off now.
Hopper steps out.
Huh. That’s weird. Steve wonders what sort of emergency he’s here for.
When Hopper enters through the glass doors, the bell hung over the entry way rings out pleasantly. An angel getting their wings.
His eyes land on Steve and the older man sighs, shoulders falling. Relief, Steve recognizes. Hopper pulls the radio from his belt and says something into it before stomping over.
Then it clicks.
Oh. Steve’s the emergency.
He feels his face heat up. The handful of other patrons scattered across the diner are all looking at him.
“There you are.” Hopper sighs, gruff and exasperated.
Steve sinks into his seat, just a little. “Shit. I fucked up, didn’t I?”
“Just a little.” Hopper chuckles dryly. He takes off his hat and slips into the booth across from Steve, apparently not in any sort of hurry now that he’s found the runaway dog.
Steve runs a hand through his hair, a nervous tic he’s developed. “Sorry.”
“Nah, don’t be sorry. Just strangle Munson for me when you see him next, will ya?” Hopper drops his hat onto the table and waves the waitress down. He orders a coke.
Munson. Eddie.
The memory of how he made a total and utter fool of himself comes rushing back, slamming down onto him like one of those cartoon anvils. Jesus, how did he forget that..?
Suddenly the pancakes aren’t sitting so good in his gut. Feels like he’s gonna ralph.
“Was he freaked out? Eddie, I mean.” Steve asks, cautiously approaching the question. Did Eddie say anything about why…?
“Yeah, him and Robin both. Then the kids found out too—don’t ask me how. I suspect the curly-haired one has an illegal transmitter.” Hopper leans back in the booth as the waitress drops off his coke. He takes the straw out and drinks it right from the glass. Steve waits for him to finish, doesn’t say a word.
When Hopper puts the glass down, Steve just sits and watches the way the drops of condensation run down the cup, distorting around the fingerprints Hopper’s left. “Anyway, they’re all out on their bikes looking for you too.”
Hopper smiles fondly, like it’s something charming and not… pathetic. “You got a lot of people that care about you, kid.
Steve swallows around the lump in his throat, and nods. Tries for a grin, but it’s weak. Probably wouldn’t fool anyone, much less a cop. “Yeah, I’m a real lucky guy.”
Hopper looks like he wants to say something else, but he just takes a breath and nods. Steve’s grateful he doesn’t argue. Doesn’t think he has the energy in him right now to fend off the ‘but look how far you’ve come!’ ‘Your speaking’s gotten so much better!’ ‘It could be a whole heck of a lot worse!’ comments.
“What do you say we get you home? Unless you want dessert? My treat.” Hopper offers with a grin.
“No, I just want to go to sleep,” he says, before remembering his manners, “thanks, though.”
“Alright then.” Hopper glances down at the cleared plate of pancakes and the half finished coke before sliding out of the booth, followed by Steve. He takes out wallet, but Steve beats him to it. He tosses down a few bills, hoping it’s enough. Hopper doesn’t comment, so it must be.
The drive back to his and Robin’s apartment is a solemn one, but it’s strangely peaceful. Hopper’s got the heat on full blast due to Steve’s lack of coat, and the motion of the vehicle along with the darkened sky leaves Steve feeling wrung out in a way he hasn’t felt in a long time.
In fact, when they finally arrive, Hopper’s gotta shake his shoulder to wake him up.
“We’re here.” He rumbles out in his gruff baritone.
Steve lifts his head from his folded arm and looks up at the modest building. He wonders how far they live from the pancake diner. If they could walk there, sometime, him and Robin and Eddie.
But then Steve realizes he never got the name of it. He feels his insides sink. Another thing lost to him.
“Thanks, Hop,” Steve gives Hopper a nod and what he’s sure is a tired smile. “I’ll, uh—I’ll try not to run off again.”
“Ah, don’t worry about it.” Hopper says, diplomatically. “Let me walk you in.”
Steve cringes at the idea. He’s grateful for Hop and all he’s done—especially the part about not making him feel like a complete dummy—but he just wants this all to be over and for things to revert back to how they were. And at this point he’s so close he can taste it.
Steve busies his hands by undoing his seat belt. “No, it’s okay, really—“
Hopper looks like he’s about to argue but Robin damn near crashes out through the building’s illuminated front doors. She makes a b-line for Steve, who’s just barely gotten out of the cruiser.
She wraps her arms around him and doesn’t let go. “Steve! Holy shit, you scared me so bad. I’ve been out of my mind!”
Steve’s arms are trapped at an awkward angle, but he reaches around her as best he can, arms like flippers. “I’m okay. Seriously. Look, not even a scratch.”
She doesn’t laugh. Just squeezes him harder. Truthfully, Steve doesn’t know if he’s okay, but it’s what everyone always seems to want to hear from him, so he says it often.
“I’ve already killed Eddie like three times.” Robin murmurs into Steve’s chest, before finally pulling away. Her eyes are bloodshot, her nose stuffy, like she’s been crying.
“It’s not his fault, Rob.” Steve’s brows pinch together as he frowns, “is he…”
But when Steve looks up towards their building, he can see Eddie standing in the doorframe, his dark silhouette illuminated by the entry way lights. He’s still as a statue, holding open the door for them, arm extended out into the cold autumn night. Steve’s insides squirm.
“You got him from here, Buckley?” Hopper calls from his cruiser and Robin ducks to meet his eye before giving him a thumbs up. She loops her arm around his waist and they start towards their place—towards Eddie.
Before they reach him, Steve keeps his voice down as he asks, “Can I just go to bed? I don’t—I can’t talk about it right now.”
“Okay.” She nods, “I get it.”
But she doesn’t, not really.
Steve avoids eye contact with Eddie when they finally reach the building, and before he can say anything, Robin interrupts. “He’s going straight to bed. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”
“Yeah, okay.” Eddie says in a small voice. He doesn’t argue. Doesn’t even follow them back up to their apartment. Maybe Eddie’s even relieved he doesn’t need to confront it tonight. Maybe they won’t ever confront it… maybe he’s hoping Steve’s brain will take care of everything and make him forget. Make it like it never happened. Part of Steve wishes—
No. He doesn’t wish that. His brain’s already functioning at half capacity, he doesn’t want to thank it for fucking up, even if it might make Steve’s life easier.
Whatever Eddie’s expression is, Steve doesn’t look back to find out. He keeps his eyes on his feet, focusing on putting one step ahead of the other.
When they finally arrive at Steve’s matchbox sized bedroom, he doesn’t even bother changing into pajamas, or even out of his jeans for that matter. He just falls into his bed, pulls a pillow over his head and wills himself to let go of the day and surrender to the sweet pull of blissful unconsciousness.
🫣 Oops, I made it worse. But I promise the Eddie and Steve confrontation is in the next part! 🙏 This is tagged angst with a happy ending for a reason.
Tag List: (message me to add or remove yourself.)
@morallyundefined @estrellami-1 @ollieolive @mugloversonly @wheneverfeasible @steddiefication @what-if-a-dragon @wrenisfangirling @yesdangerpls @flustratedcas @scarletyeager @snowstar2368 @starxlark @sofadofax @lawrencebshoggoth @stevesworldxx @jizzing-bastard-600and69 @bambibiest @queenie-ofthe-void @lilpomelito @bananahoneycomb @kaspurrcat @deadwhiterosesstuff @dame-zoom-a-lot @3vilpurpl3d0t @loudmariachibands @steddieislife
#Steddie#I swear I’ll fix it#🔨🪛🪚 look I have my tools right here#let me know if you want to be added to the tag list for part 3!#angst with a happy ending#Steddie amnesia fic#concussed Steve Harrington#tw head trauma#Steve Harrington centric#whew boy we’re in for a bit of a roller coaster#Eddie Munson#Steve Harrington#stranger things#stranger things fanfic#steddie fanfic#Eddie Munson is a sweetheart#he’s just a little guy#Eddie x Steve#Steve x Eddie#pre-Steddie#but they’re heading there I swear#I WILL make the boys smooch I swear#but anyway here it is!#I’ve literally never had a fic blow up the way this one did#thank you everyone#my writing#write Rae write
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Part 2
Part 1
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Eddie stands and follows Steve to the door as he’s pulling on his shoes. He wants to stop him, pull the shoe out of his hand and drag Steve back to the couch, but he doesn’t have any right. He’s not entirely sure Steve won’t push him away if he tries to touch him right now, anyways.
“You think I’m straight and I was convinced you were into me,” Steve leans against the door frame to pull his other shoe on. He mutters under his breath, “I should’ve never listened to Robin an-”
“Robin was in on this?” He interrupts that thought. It throws Eddie. They’re such a tight knit group, he doesn’t know how they were so far off track with him.
“We spent hours going through every stupid interaction we had. Thought we had it all figured out.” He huffs and walks back over to the coffee table to pick up his wallet and keys. “I guess we’re both idiots.”
“No, Steve,” he tries to reach out and grab Steve’s arm, but he moves too quickly and Eddie’s left grasping air, “you’re not.”
“It’s fine, I’m used to it, anyways.” Steve scrambles to pull his sweater back on, the cold just starting to seep into the night air outside.
“Can you just slow down for a second?” Eddie stops trying to catch Steve and plants himself in front of the door. “What do you mean, you’re used to it?”
“Are you going to trap me here?”
“Answer the question.”
“This part, Eddie,” he sighs and gestures between them like that means anything to Eddie. “Everyone I’ve ever confessed to or made a move on has had the same reaction.” He looks off to the side, unable to look Eddie in the eye. “I’m pretty sure I’m the problem. Good ole Steve Harrington, too stupid to notice no one is interested in him.”
“Steve, you’re not stupid.”
“Feels like it most of the time.” He pinches his nose again, still not looking at Eddie, more like through him, gaze pinned to somewhere in the middle of Eddie’s chest. “Can you please move? We can pretend like this never happened and I promise I won’t make any weird moves on you ever again. I’m still friends with Nancy and Robin after everything, I can do it with you, too.”
Eddie skips over the whole Robin part of that in his head because he doesn’t have the brain power to analyze anything beyond Steve’s feelings for him. He never saw this coming. No one, boy or girl or anything in between, has ever made a move on Eddie before. He’s the local freak. There’s no way he could have predicted the town’s golden boy hero would make the moves on him.
He takes in how disheveled Steve’s become in the last few minutes. How hastily he’s thrown on his sweater. The mess of Steve’s hair from the hand that’s run through it several times since he got up from the couch. Barely laced up shoes so he could get out the door faster. He’s normally so put together and this, the sight of him so frazzled, frightens Eddie.
They were fast friends after everything happened with Vecna, leaning on each other for support. Becoming inseparable with King Steve wasn’t something Eddie ever imagined, but it was so easy. Neither of them were what each other had built up in their heads from the rumor mill around Hawkins. Eddie’s never had a guy friend as close as Steve. Sure, he had Hellfire and Corroded Coffin, but Eddie’s always been a bit of a loner.
It was impossible to feel alone with Steve as a friend. He had a way of knowing when you needed support, always just there when Eddie felt alone or needed a physical presence when the weight of the upside down was dragging him down. There wasn’t a day in the past six months that Eddie didn’t see Steve, even if it was only in passing or a quick little jaunt down to Family Video, he’s a constant presence in Eddie’s life.
To lose that? Would be like losing a part of himself. Like losing a limb. Losing his home.
And he’s scared. He doesn’t want to let Steve walk out that door, the weight of losing him forever lingering in the air. But he can’t trap him here. That wouldn’t be fair to Steve.
He moves out of the way, taking a step towards Steve, but he sidesteps Eddie and reaches for the door.
“Steve-”
“Don’t worry about me, Eddie,” he doesn’t turn around, but hesitates halfway out the door. “I’ll be fine.”
With the soft click of the door closing, he’s gone.
And that should be the end of it. Closed book. Eddie doesn’t like Steve and Steve needs to move on. There’s not much Eddie can do about that.
But it haunts him.
If you didn’t know Steve, you wouldn’t realize that anything was wrong. He’s acting normal, smile on his face when he jokes with Robin, complaining about the kids being terrors, going to his job.
But there’s something in the set of his shoulders, in the way his smile droops when he thinks no one’s paying attention to him, in the way Robin protectively hovers around him when Eddie is nearby. It’s clearly a facade he’s putting on to get by.
And Eddie aches. There’s a pit in his stomach that opened up that day and it hasn’t closed. Steve avoids his touch and the chasm grows larger, dragging Eddie further into the darkness. Casual hangouts halted. No more divulging of nightmares or fears late at night. A piece of Eddie is with Steve and he’s bereft of comfort. Unsettled.
He lies awake replaying that kiss over and over in his head. Thinking about what Steve said after. There’s no comfort in the way he handled the situation. It feels like he miscalculated, like pushing Steve away was the wrong move and now his life will never be the same again.
Maybe it won’t. Maybe there’s no way for them to move forward and for him to not break Steve’s heart every day. Steve said he was an idiot, but Eddie’s positive he’s got it all backwards. Eddie’s the idiot.
And he can’t stop thinking about kissing Steve.
#stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie#katie writes#again I promise this will have a happy ending#feel free to yell at me#angst#the comfort is COMING I swear
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lost in the cherik brain rot as if i'm a 36-year-old man going thru a divorce myself.
Charles fresh from the divorce vs. starting to heal from it:
he looks so good with short hair and slightly scruffy facial hair. i wanted this for post-dofp charles.
#he grays prematurely a little bit from the stress but he has jean <3#i swear this divorce fic has a happy ending somehow#cherik au#aleks art#cherik#xmen#x men#charles xavier#jean grey#james mcavoy#x men days of future past#xmen days of future past#dofp#soccer au
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Dead on Main Soulmate AU [Part 1]
Everyone has a soulmate. They can be either romantic or platonic, and the intensity of the bond varies, but everyone has a soulmate.
According to every person that has met their soulmate, the feeling of finally finding your special someone is unmistakable.
But to help you along, everyone is also born with a tiny red heart tattooed on the inside of their wrist. The heart beats if you're close to your soulmate, and when you meet them the tattoo turns golden.
It is also known, that when your soulmate dies the heart fades to black, and won't ever beat again.
Now insert Danny and Jason into this scenario.
This turned sadder than I intended it to be :')
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Next part | Masterpost
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Danny has a heart on his wrist like everyone else, and he has all but confirmed that his soulmate doesn't live in Amity, which he's secretly very happy about.
The thing is, Danny dies when he's 14 years old. Sure he comes back to life afterwards, but the damage is done. He'd looked into it to make sure, there are cases of someone very briefly passing away before being resuscitated. In each of these cases, their soulmate's tattoo would fade to black, regardless if they had met or not.
Danny knows that his soulmate believes him to be dead, and there's nothing he can do about it. He doesn't know what will happen when they meet, will the heart shift or stay black? Any reports he could find online about the subject didn't delve into what happens beyond the heart fading.
As for Danny's own tattoo, it remains mostly unaffected by his death. There is a fascinating side-effect of the heart changing from red to green when he goes ghost, most probably because he stops relying on his heart, switching to his core, which runs on ectoplasm.
But that aside, Danny doesn't notice a difference. His heart is still it's regular old red colour whenever he's human.
There's nothing he can do about any of it until he actually meets his soulmate, so until then it's a waiting game.
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Jason was 13 years old when his soulmate died.
It had been a regular afternoon, he was hidden away in the manor's library with a big stack of books he was planning to plough through.
It happened as he was simply turning a page. The red heart on his wrist caught his eye, and he froze in terror.
It just turned to black.
It didn't fade like what people have described, oddly enough. Instead, it flickered back and forth between red and black, as if unsure where to settle, before it stopped and stayed firmly black.
Jason just sat there, refusing to take his eyes off his tattoo.
That was where Alfred found him hours later, after the sun had set and the natural light in the library consisted solely of the dim glow from the moon.
The butler had originally sought out the boy to inquire about his absence at dinner, but could tell at a glance that something was very wrong. He approached carefully.
"Master Jason? Is everything quite alright?"
Jason numbly turned his head up to look at Alfred. He looked at the man that was always there when he needed him, even when Jason was damn sure he didn't deserve it.
He looked into the kind eyes of the man that had become like a grandfather to him, and he finally stopped holding back.
He wept silently, allowing his eyes to let out the tears he had been holding back. The tears flowed down his face, and had anyone other than his grandfather Alfred been watching he would have been embarrassed by the pitiful sniffling sound he let out as he wiped at his tear-stained cheeks with the back of his hand.
He wordlessly held out his wrist, showing the now firmly pitch-black heart stamped there.
The moment Alfred laid eyes on the tattoo his heart clenched, the older man feeling a pain that was beyond words with the realization of what his grandson was going through this early in his life. He quickly reached out and held Jason in a tight embrace.
For the first time in many, many decades he felt incapable of fulfilling his job.
After all, how do you comfort a child that has just had their one special person, their other half, cruelly ripped away from them before they even got to lay eyes on each other?
"I'm so sorry my boy."
As much as he loathed it, the words were all Alfred had to offer.
He wanted to curse the world, for doing this to the poor boy. Yet all he found himself able to do was silently pray for a miracle, that this wouldn't be the boy's fate.
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Next part | Masterpost
#dpxdc#dp x dc crossover#dp x dc prompt#dp x dc au#dp x dc#dc x dp crossover#dc x dp prompt#dp x dc fanfic#jason todd#danny phantom#soulmate au#meanwhile danny: oooh my heart turns green now neat#im sorry#i swear these boys will get a happy ending
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Hullo. I am amongst the living.
This little idea kept nagging at me, so here we are: TFP where Op goes ✨FERAL✨
So y’know that whole shtick about “they had a secret relationship all along?” Well this is sort of like that, basically— yes, Megs and Op have had a secret relationship ever since the Orion arc. Megs kept in contact because he missed Optimus SO MUCH. And the war has been going on for so long. Also they can fix Cybertron together. But MOSTLY Megs missed Optimus.
Things go along, now they’re definitely considering peace time and even drafting a treaty to share with their respective factions.
But a little bump in the road comes in the form of someone that Megs DID NOT expect to see— MegaZarak. And instead of Zarak heavily injures Optimus or tortures him, like a previous idea I’ve had before— I’ve thought of something a little more heart wrenching. Shit goes down right when Prime and Megs are about to establish peace: Zarak beats out Megs from the title as leader of the Decepticons. He retreats, and escapes via ground ridge thanks to Optimus and the crew. Knockout, BreakDown, SW, and DreadWing follow after him, ever the loyal soldiers (and they also dont want to deal with Zarak). But Optimus gets nabbed just before he jumps through the ground bridge, and he’s now a prisoner to Zarak. So to fuck with Megs even more, Zarak uses the Botched Synthetic Energon to make Op go FERAL.
Like he’s a literal beast on a leash, fangs and all— and Megs, when staging a rescue operation, is torn because he doesnt want to hurt Op, but he has no choice because OP IS FERAL AND HE WILL LITERALLY GET HIS FACE RIPPED OFF. Optimus’ optics are the striking green just like when Ratchet messed around with it earlier on in the series. (Don’t do drugs kids)
He’s got Optimus pinned and he’s trying disparately to pierce through the feral veil that’s blinding the Prime. And there’s a small, tiny moment where Optimus calms down, and his optics flash blue. He tries to speak but his words are staticky and jumbled. Megs reaches out a soothing hand over Op’s face, but unfortunately the touching moment is short lived when Optimus’ optics flash green again, and he goes back to fighting like a rabid animal.
Megs has no choice to knock Optimus out and take him to the wreckage of the Harbinger where both bots and cons have established a new base since the one is Jasper got blown to bits. So Megs is looking through the cell door of the brig, watching as a feral Op is chained to a wall, snarling, growling, and trying to rid himself of his bindings. Ratchet establishes that it’ll probably take days, maybe WEEKS to flush the botched synthetic energon from Prime’s frame. Megs, ever the stubborn mech, refuses to give up on his Prime— so he sits, and waits, and assists where he can in order to bring his Prime back to himself.
So yeah, an idea where Optimus is pretty much having to be treated like a wild beast the whole time until they can get the botched synth energon out of him.
You’re welcome.
#rinpin#tfrinpin#megop#megatron#optimus prime#transformers#tranformers prime#feral Optimus#feral op#megazarak#yeah this one is just full of angst and i just had to draw it#also the prime bots are tricky to draw the first time around but#eh#it was fun anyway#but also Megs refusing to leave his husband#and most likely will rip Zarak’s head clean off his shoulders#there’s a happy ending I swear
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Looks like Minus One is finally meeting Santa Claus!
It's the Choo-Choo or the extinction of humanity. Choose wisely...
Kong did the right thing by giving him the Choo-Choo
All Godzillas love Choo-Choos!!!
Merry Christmas guys!🎄
#godzilla#godzilla minus one#godzilla x kong: the new empire#shin godzilla#godzilla ultima#godzilla earth#kong#santa claus#merry christmas#christmas#happy holidays#minus one may be baby#but he will kill AND destroy#and he won't even hesitate#even MV G is shooketh#at least it's a happy ending?#nobody got hurt#i swear#well... except for kong#he's appalled#but that's his problem right?#poor guy...#do not repost#my art
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My copium where they all survive and they are an iconic one eyed trio
Also some random sketches because 266-267 have been killing me emotionally thank you
#genuinely how the fuck do they go back to society after this???#for how Megumi would lose his eye#I saw some really cool fanart a while ago where he got some scarring post-possession due to Sukuna's weird face thingy#Forgot where it was but I thought it was so cool#and wouldn't it be fucking hilarious if they all have one eye at the end of this#Hell if you wanna cope you could throw Gojo in there too with the eye theories#This should not be funny but it is to me sorry#Gege just mutiliating peoples eyes for some reason#As it stands Yuji and Nobara are matching in canon since he supposedly can't use RCT anymore#Unless he fucking dies before they reunite#I swear to god gege#bro has been throwing too many death flags#Yuji feels like a ticking time bomb every chapter I keep thinking hes gonna die every week#Any way happy sunday yall#jjk#jjk spoilers#jjk 267#jjk267#my art#yuji itadori#megumi fushiguro#nobara kugisaki#jjk art
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Dropout newsletter this week:
Me:
#AABRIA IF ANYTHING HAPPENS TO THOSE STOATS I SWEAR TO GOD#so not ready for things to get even more fucked up (and we know they will)#i just want to watch this little weird and delightful family get closer#see jaysohn the karate boy and lila sneaking around to eavesdrop on adults#and tula being a tired but proud mum and showing her more mischievous side when with viola#and thorn - my newest beloved wifeguy#and ofc ava being the most badass grandma to ever grandma#is it too much?? i just want them to be silly and happy together#dimension 20#burrow's end
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i miss them
#lychee's trash art#the dragon prince#tdp#claudia tdp#tdp claudia#soren tdp#tdp soren#remember when wonderstorm was active on tumblr…#i swear they rebranded but i don't remember off the top of my headlmfao that's embarassing#anyway. my favs ever!! the most siblings!!!!#(please let them have a happy ending oh my god)#(i can't have another zuko & azula and watch it get resolved in excruciatingly subpar comics)#wait does anyone have that art of them dyeing each other's hair#it's kind of my favorite hc ever#tdp brainrot is real i've done nothing but scroll for two days since finishing s6#it's definitely not three am rn
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I need Cheng Xiaoshi’s death scene to be absolutely heartbreaking. I want Lu Guang to be inconsolable and crying as he holds Cxs in his arms begging him not to leave him. I want to see how miserable and devastated he is until the grief becomes too much to handle so he drops all of his own rules to dive back in time because he just cannot live in a world without Cxs.
#I’m sorry#I want them to have a happy ending I swear#but they need to suffer first 😊#link click#cheng xiaoshi#lu guang#shiguang
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🏳️⚧️ DOUBLE HEADCANON ATTACK!!! 🏳️⚧️
Family HCs are already fun on their own but with transness added on they're even better. It's actual comedy gold. Also I've always wanted to draw some kind of Meta Knight VS Galacta Knight type thing, but I can't take anything seriously like that. So you get This.
What This is, is a way too high effort shitpost. It took a combined 2 and a half? Days, though most of it was just sketching. I'm proud of it! Anything for the bit.
Textless version + unfinished doodle under the cut
#kirby#kirby series#galacta knight#galactabro#does he know? (he does not know)#meta knight#trans meta knight#trans mask even. is anyone there. whatever.#my art#my doodles#anyway. the extra doodle was originally gonna be part of the main drawing#specifically the bottom one. i think you can really tell by how much effort i put into it#But in the end it wasn't looking like i pictured it#i was also struggling trying to draw GK's lance in a way that didn't completely annoy me#so i gave up#i also gave up coloring it. sorry#i love colored lineart!#also i swear on my life i intended to shade this#i tried. thought about how it was almost 12 am. and decided against it#i do like how it looks unshaded though#i'm not very good at shading/lighting yet so it would've probably looked muddy#thank god for filters#i hope you guys like mk's wings those were also a source of eternal torment#i'm so happy with how they look though#also. obligatory baby orb. squish him and bake him into bread okay?
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In the end, Maglor spends more time asleep than awake.
He finishes the final note of the Noldolantë, recited as many times as it has verses, and collapses at last.
But Elven bodies are slow to fade, the High Elven Sons of Fëanaro slowest of all, and it takes thousands of years to so much as weaken. Ulmo takes pity on the Singer who’s haunted his shores longer than he’s had a home, and covers him in a sandy shelter until his fëa finally departs, yearning for the family lost long ago.
The Vala makes Kanafinwë’s tomb at the base of what was once Himring. He doesn’t know where the elf will go, but perhaps his empty hröa might find peace under the shade of his older brother’s fortress as it had so long ago. And perhaps his fëa, wherever it is, will get a measure of that peace too.
-
Fiery red hair and a laugh he thought he’d never hear again. Warm arms wrapping tightly around him.
“Outlived us all, huh little brother?”
Sometimes I think of Maglor going from being a prince of the Noldor with a large, comfortable house full of family, then ending up alone on a beach, no roof over his head, nothing to keep his safe and warm. The only comfort his memories when he sleeps.
#my eternal love of siblings and sibling dynamics#these two break my heart 🥲#a happier ending for once!#I swear most of my writing has a happy twist to it#silmarillion#Tolkien#silm#feanorians#maglor#makalaurë#kanafinwë#maedhros#maitimo#nelyafinwe#ulmo#himring#ITHOF Writes
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Part 3
Part 1 - Part 2
Eddie’s pretty sure he’s never thought about kissing another guy. He rarely thinks about kissing anybody. For the longest time, he was convinced that no one would ever want to kiss him, so he never saw the point in dwelling on it.
But maybe that was unusual. He might have mistaken his apathy for normalcy when really he’s the freak. The average person probably thinks about kissing an awful lot. He’s listened to Jeff talk about asking out Lacy from his calculus class and Gareth go on and on about how unfair it is that he can’t make out with his boyfriend behind the bleachers to know that the average high schooler is pretty horny.
Yet, Eddie’s childhood wasn’t littered with school yard crushes. There aren’t fond memories of girls that he imagined sneaking off with during lunch period or recess. There’s just…nothing. A part of that was his rocky childhood and jumping from his parents, to just his dad, to Wayne. But a lot of it was pure disinterest in the hottest girl in their grade growing breasts before all the other girls, or how tenth grade Mandy would make out with anyone with the right incentive.
He’s never thought about it long enough for anything to stick. He figured, one day, when he was old enough to escape Hawkins and all the small minded bigots who think he’s a devil worshiper, that he would find a girl that appreciated his specific eccentricities. That he’d settle down somewhere quiet, a little closer to the city than Hawkins, and find some blue collar job and start a family. That’s just what everyone does, right?
He knows that’s not true, though. That everyone doesn’t follow that path. He knows people like Gareth and Robin, and apparently Steve, don’t get to just walk into happily ever after. There’s no white picket fence in their future, and Eddie’s never had to confront that reality so head on before. He knows what it’s like to be different. To have a target on your back. But, it’s nothing like the ostracization of being gay.
Thinking about kissing Steve scares him. When he closes his eyes, it’s a looping replay of that day. Steve’s soft lips on his unmoving ones. Big hands cradling his face. He can perfectly recall the terror and confusion. It’s seeped into his bones now, because he’s realized something about himself and he doesn’t know what to do with the information.
He can do nothing. He can move forward and pretend that he doesn’t wake up panting, picturing Steve on top of him pressing him into the mattress with their faces attached. He doesn’t ever have to acknowledge that for the first time in twenty years of living, he’s having honest to god wet dreams that involve another person. And that person he’s envisioning is a guy. Everything can just be swept under the rug.
But he’s pretty sure it scares him more to know that he can’t. It’s eating away at him. Eddie feels trapped in his own skin. The truth is clawing its way to the surface, wanting to break free, even if Eddie’s shutting down as it tries to spill out. He knows it’s inevitable, that overflow. The dam breaking.
It takes an intervention to set everything in motion. Wayne’s been fussing over him for weeks. He’s been doing that worried parent thing that he thinks Eddie doesn’t know about, where he stands outside Eddie’s closed bedroom door like he wants to knock and say something, but doesn’t. He’s studying Eddie over their morning cereal like the little floating letters are going to spell out why Eddie’s been holed up in his room almost mute.
But the final straw is when Wayne comes home from work to Eddie painting figurines on the stairs of their new trailer while pretending that he’s not watching Steve help Max fold laundry next door. There’s this polite distance between them and Eddie that didn’t exist before, this wide expanse where before Eddie would’ve been sitting on the picnic table in front of Max’s trailer teasing both of them, or maybe helping if it was a low pain day.
Instead, he’s sat like a toddler in timeout, taking furtive peaks over the little paint brushes and praying that Max’s sharp intuition about situations like this is dulled by her literal lack of being able to see Eddie from over there. Steve can see him, though, and Eddie’s feigning that it doesn’t bother him. What a grave he’s dug for himself here.
“Boy, don’t you think this has gone on long enough?” Wayne sighs as he climbs out of his truck, this world-weary, too knowledgeable sigh that makes Eddie squirm.
“I don’t know what you mean, old man.” Better to just play ignorant. Even though Eddie’s pretty sure he can’t escape Wayne’s withering gaze. He hasn’t in over ten years, so he likely won’t be starting now.
Wayne just stares at him. A raised eyebrow and crossed arms that tell Eddie he means business. He’s not getting out of this.
Eddie’s jaw shifts and he looks down at the figure in his hands. “I don’t really know what to do, Wayne.”
“Move over,” Wayne says, settling down beside Eddie until they’re shoulder to shoulder, barely waiting for the little shuffle Eddie does to make room. He doesn’t say anything for a moment. Just stares across the yard in the same direction Eddie was moments before, a contemplative look on his face. “This about that boy?”
Eddie follows his gaze over to Steve. His silence goes on a little too long before he softly says, “yeah.”
Wayne hums, still looking at Steve. “You know, you always were a late bloomer.”
That grabs Eddie’s attention. He turns towards Wayne, who takes that as his cue to continue, and sets down the figure behind them.
“Nothing ever happened when I thought it would when you were a boy. Lizzy said you took forever to walk and talk. I kept waiting for you to come to me about the birds and the bees, but you didn’t. Not sure if that was a good thing to let go, but I knew you weren’t getting yourself into trouble. Probably wasn’t much I could offer you that public school wasn’t already teaching you.”
Eddie wonders briefly if he should’ve hidden the condoms in his room better, but maybe that’s what gave Wayne the confidence to leave Eddie to his business. Even if they were collecting dust before they became dust that day the trailer cracked open.
“You never brought anyone around.” He nods in the direction of Steve. “Not until him.”
The conversation with Steve is distantly replaying in his head. How he went over their every interaction with Robin and they came to this same conclusion. Maybe Eddie really is an idiot.
“It wasn’t intentional,” Eddie adds. “I didn’t know what I was doing.”
“I don’t think anyone knows what they’re doing, son. That’s part of life.” He pats Eddie on the back. “It’s ‘specially a part of being in love.”
Eddie’s not sure he’s willing to start that train of thought, yet. He’s grateful for the quiet, unspoken acceptance, but he’s not ready to think about labeling it something as profound as love. He flounders for a second before saying, “I think I’ve missed my chance there,” as he looks back over at Steve.
“Are you dead and I don’t know it?” He squeezes Eddie’s shoulder. “Seem pretty real to me.” He whacks Eddie’s head gently. “Ain’t nothing missed if you’re still alive to make things right.”
“Hey!” Eddie laughs, mock offended at the attack, rubbing the back of his head and leaning away from Wayne. “Isn’t it socially unacceptable to joke about someone that was legally dead for almost three minutes?”
“I think I get leeway as the one that kept you alive for ten years by myself.” Wayne wrangles him into a side hug, pulling him to his chest with an arm around his neck. “Just cause things are broken, doesn’t mean you can’t fix ‘em, son.”
#stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie#katie writes#look i'm trying to fix this and give everyone the happy ending i promised#i swear
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oh, sunny…
#art#digital art#drawing#digital drawing#cute art#omori#omori art#omori fanart#omori game#omori fandom#omori drawing#omori basil#rw basil#basil omori#basil fanart#basil#fanart omori#omori faraway#omori good ending#good ending?#it’ll get better Basil#i swear!!! one day basil will be happy u_u
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people are being SO NICE about this snippet (thanks for the motivation, guys!) so have another one if you want 🖤
It’s so wrong and Eddie hates himself for abusing Steve’s trust, for taking advantage of him while he’s clearly not in his right mind. But he’s too lost in the feeling, too mesmerised by the sight, too selfish to tell Steve to stop.
He doesn’t want him to stop, wants him to keep going, wants even more than he lets himself think out loud.
It’s cruel, and stupid, and so fucking dangerous because whatever this is, whatever they’re doing could be the ruin of everything.
“Steve,” Eddie pleads, needs him to put and end to it before it’s too late.
But maybe it already is because when have they gotten so close?
Steve’s half in his lap with one leg crossed over Eddie’s thighs. He’s got one hand at his back, palm beneath Eddie’s shirt, fingertips dipping just below his waistline and his face is suddenly so near Eddie can feel the shuddering exhale when he finally releases his thumb.
“Fuck, Eddie.”
His voice is strained, like it’s taking a lot to form words and it’s so weak. The only reason for Eddie to hear it above the background noise is how close Steve’s lips are to his ear, head dropped on Eddie’s shoulder where he's breathing hot against his neck. It makes his skin tingle, makes something coil in his middle.
“Steve, we have to-“
Stop, he still can’t bring himself to say. Instead, with what little willpower he’s got left, Eddie wraps an arm around Steve’s shoulder to pull him out of his hiding spot so he can look at him.
Steve is panting hard, like he’s been running, breath catching in his throat when he tries and fails to swallow down a whimper.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Eddie.”
edit: and now, because it's finished, you can read the whole fic here if you like
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