#i've had a long day so if this doesn't make sense........ neither did half of last year's

[chaos-in-deepspace]

LADS Xavier: Galaxy Hands | SFW

Look at me. LOOK AT ME. I dun wanna hear nufin about bad typos in this one. I just got my nails done yesterday and they're so long in comparison to how they normally are. I am learning how to type all over again and ya...this was written in fifteen minutes.

Pairings Xavier x Reader Warnings None Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+.

Blog Information | Masterlist

Xavier

```You had decided, for once, to treat yourself. To paint your nails despite knowing that while working tomorrow they would probably get ruined in some way. You knew your job wasn't exactly one where you could have fancy nails, so you felt it simple. Instead of going somewhere, you opted to just do it yourself.

Xavier hadn't questioned it when you showed up to his home with a small box in hand, nor did he ask why you were setting things up in his living room. Instead he just sat and watched as you got out the polishes and began working on your hands.

He was snacking, enjoying some pocky while watching you from the couch. The way you were sat on the floor, relaxed, and just focused on the task. It was relaxing for you, the small motions, waiting for it to dry between coats, and then finishing it. It had taken a good half hour, and the entire time the apartment was basked in silence.

When you finally looked at them, you smiled. It was simple, a black undercoat with a holographic purple and blue on top of it. The way the top coat made it shine had you staring at them for a little longer than you normally would.

Then you felt a hand taking your own and you looked to see Xavier. He was staring at the design on your hand with a gentle look in those beautiful blue eyes of his, "It looks like a starry sky." he finally said, breaking the silence that had been there since you had first come over.

"I know, I wasn't expecting it. This is the first time I tried this polish." You admitted. You had expected it to look nice, but you hadn't expected to have a literal galaxy on your nails when you had finished them.

You blushed when Xavier brought your hand up to his mouth, pressing a gentle kiss onto the knuckles of your hand. Your nails were, at this point, mainly dry, but he was still being so delicate with them that it surprised you.

"I like them." He finally said, "Why don't you paint your nails for often? You're pretty good at it." he noted as he looked them over. It was like he was transfixed on your hands at the moment and you let out a nervous chuckle.

"I mean, they'll just be ruined tomorrow while I'm at work. Doesn't make sense to do them every day." you pointed out and he nodded.

"Aren't there ways to make them last longer?" his finger were gently playing with your hand as he looked at you. "I know I've seen Tara with her nails done a few times." what he really meant was how he had seen Tara shoving her hands in your face before to gush about her nails, but that was neither here nor there.

"I mean I guess if I got them done professionally with a gel or something they'd last longer." You murmured.

"Then how about on your next day off you do that?" Xavier suggested, "It's clear you like your nails like this."

"I feel like you're enjoying them more." you pointed out, taking your hand away from his to gently bop his nose with one finger. He gave you an amused smile as he took your hand back and placed it on his cheek.

"I do. We can go together if you'd like." he said and you gave him a questioning glance.

"Oh, and are you going to get your nails done as well?" You pinched his cheek and he gave you a soft smile.

"Perhaps. Would it make you happy if I did?"

You took a moment to think about it. Xavier did have pretty hands, and his nail bed was long. Even if he kept his nails short, there was a lot you could do with them. "Ya, I think it would. I'll ask Tara where she goes tomorrow and make an appointment for us." you said as you leaned down. You pressede a quick kiss to his nose and he looked at you with a pout.

"You missed…" he muttered, and before you could ask what he meant, his lips were pressing against your own. You hummed into it, savoring the feeling of his mouth on yours as he pulled away, "There, that's better." he said, then quickly kissed your cheek. He went to grab your hand again, staring at the color for a moment more, "Now…how about we get some dinner."```

[aneverydaysimp]

Hear me out. This could work with either Satan (Obey me) or Lucifer (obey me). But I think Lucifer since he's so prideful

So like University Au type thing where both Lucifer and MC are book-smart and tries to kill each other just so they could reach number one. Oh the jealousy they hold for each other that they'll never admit. The troubles they put each other through just so the other can tumble.

But lucifer thinks he's a genius with coming up with thr idea of dating her just to distract her. Obviously it doesn't work after a while because he ended up falling for her.❤️HEHE

Oh, the fake dating turned real trope. Ohhh, gotta love it! >:)) I hope it's alright I wrote this out as headcanons, because that's the way I interpreted this idea. My apologies if you preferred a one-shot! Perhaps if it gets popular enough and I have enough inspiration, I'll make a mini fanfic out of it, continuing where I left off~!

Apologies if this is a little ooc for our prideful boy! It's been a long time since I've written anything for him <33 hope you enjoy!

pairing: Lucifer x prideful!MC

pronouns for MC used as you/your, "MC" used as name

tw: mentions of a broken bone, obvious manipulation to a sense, but it's very mild, reader is implied to be shorter than Lucifer, but that's expected considering he's tall af, not proofread cause I'm busy :))

Lucifer's Distraction

You two despise each other wholeheartedly. Everyone knows it from the freshmen to the professors to the birds relaxing by the window. Of course, nobody understand the hatred between you two like, well, you two.

Of course, neither of you would never admit it outloud... or well, even to yourselves. No, no, you both just had academic differences, that's all! Nothing more, nothing less (denial ain't just a river in Egypt)

Everytime Lucifer thought he was there on top, doing the best on an exam or project, you were right there to remind him that he wasn't truly the best, and vis versa.

Finally, you both had had enough. What started as little, annoying pranks to make each other late for class quickly escalated to so much more. At one point, you had even broken a bone from one of his little schemes that included moving a wet floor sign and you slipping. Maybe he went a little fair with that one, but he wasn't sorry. Still, you got back up. Seems Lucifer would have to step up his game. And that's he did.

One night, he laid tossing and turning in bed, unable to rest easy, you there, plauging his mind. Your annoying voice piping up before his, your handwriting on your projects that always seemed to out do his-- ugh, it was beyond annoying. What could he do to get rid of you once and for all? Something to finally top you? Something that would finally make you just drop your--

And then it hit him. Just like that, at the snap of his fingers. What if he seduced you? Know thy enemy, and all that. He almost shot up right then and there. It was wrong, so very wrong, he knew that. But it was too good to pass up.

And so, the next day, after school, some studying for an upcoming exam, and a quick chat on the phone with Asmodeus, here he was, outside of your dorm, late at night, red roses in hand, with a little apology note-- which he meant nothing that it said-- attached to it. He gave the door a light knock, quickly sitting down the flowers and the note before scurrying off, trying to get around the corner before you walked out, if you did. It was late, so he wouldn't be shocked if you were asleep.

Well, as luck would have it, you decided to order a pizza a half hour earlier, and your delivery turns out to have arrived around the same time as Lucifer tried to turn the corner, and well... he crashed into your delivery man, ruining your pizza and his nice new, white shirt with pizza sauce. Karma's a bitch, ain't it?

And you? You opened your door just in time to witness the entire thing. Man, were you confused. Your rival and pizza man bumping into each other. Huh. You were confused, definitely, but more so disappointed your pizza was ruined. Though it did make you grin to see the disgusted look on Lucifer's face as the pizza sauce stained his shirt as the delivery man apoglized profusely.

Only then did you notice the roses and the note. Obviously, you weren't quite as focused on them at the moment, considering your dinner had just been ruined by your totally-not-rival. Hesitantly, you called out to the raventte, catching his attention. "You alright?"

"No." He replied stiffly, sending a glare towards the poor pizza man, who began to apologize to you, mentioning something along the lines of a free pizza next time you ordered. You were hopeful about that, thinking you could just order another, possibly get some extra toppings you like and all that... and then he said their kitchens were closed for the night. You were the last order. Shit. So now your dinner was ruined, you had an empty stomach, and you had loads of studying to do. And on top of that, your rival is standing right here, likely revelling in your misery.

Wrong. He saw this as an opportunity. Sure, his shirt was ruined, but he could easily buy another, just like he was going to buy you dinner tonight.

After the pizza man had been dismissed, and it was just the two of you standing there (awkwardly), you both began to speak at the same time.

"Would you--?" "Would you--?" Pause. "...You go first." He hummed after a moment, arms crossed over his chest. "...Right." You sigh, already regretting speaking in the first place. "Would you like to borrow a shirt? A friend left a shirt here the other night. May fit you." It definitely wouldn't, at least not very well, but considering it was your pizza that ruined his shirt, you felt inclined to at least ask so he didn't have to walk back to his own dorm covered in pizza sauce. You'd just buy your friend a new shirt. He definitely wouldn't mind.

"I'd... actually appreciate that. Thank you." He moved to pick up the roses he had gotten for you. "May I come in? I guess I can give you these first hand now." Your eyes widened. Oh. So it was him who'd gotten them and not some crazy coincidence. They were... pretty, you'd give him that.

You don't say anything, moving to the side to allow him in. You mumble something along the lines of finding that shirt for him before walking towards your dresser, looking for it. "You wanted to ask me something, too."

He hums. "Yes, I did. Considering I messed up your dinner plans, would you like me to make up for it?" You shot around to look at him, a suspicious look in your eyes.

"Plan to break my wrist again?" "...That was an accident." He replies hesitantly. "Sure." You scoff, turning back to the dresser. "What do you think the roses are for? They're an apology." Okay, you had no response to that. "...Fine." You hesitantly agree to his previous question, knowing you needed to eat so you could focus on studying. You can practically feel his eyes in the back of your head, that annoying smirk on his face. "Dick..." You mumble beneath your breath. "What was that?" "...Nothing!"

You turn around to throw the shirt at him, which he skillfully catches. "Thank you." He hums, sitting it aside, moving to undo the buttons of his shirt. You, flushed red by how outwardly he started to do so, quickly spin around, covering your face. Andddd you feel that smirk again. Fucking annoying.

After he's changed, the two of you head out. This late at night, there's only a few restaurants opened. You two head to a local diner, ordering some food. You were a little weird about this all, you had to admit, suspicious as to why he's suddenly being so... well, nice.

You two didn't talk at all aside from ordering, and you stubbornly fighting with him about paying. Unfortunately, he was more stubborn, insisting he payed. You finally huffed, saying something along the lines of "your money, not mine" before going quiet, beginning to eat your food. You didn't say a damn thing to him, or even look at him. But, oh, he was looking at you. His eyes never moved. It was awkward-- no, intimidating as hell.

"Do you mind?" You finally scoffed, eyes meeting his charcoal ones for a brief moment, quickly looking away. "I don't. You're actually not that sore on the eyes." He backhandedly comments to you, earning another scoff. "Is that all you're good for? Scoffs?" He scoffs himself, taking a bite of his own food. Oh, you can feel your eye twitching in annoyance.

However, you take a deep breath, relaxing yourself. "No..." You reply calmly. "Hm." He simply hums, which you copy, earning a raised eyebrow from him. His eyes, however, finally fell from you to your plate, emptied in a matter of minutes. It reminds him of Beel, how quickly you ate that, and he smiles briefly.

"What?" You asked, confused by the small change in attitude. "Oh, nothing." He replies, and it's your turn to raise an eyebrow. He sighs, seeing that look. "How quickly you ate. It reminds me a bit of one of my brothers." He shrugs. "Are you still hungry?" Hesitantly, you nod. "Well, go ahead. Order more." He doesn't seem bothered. "Since you're offering..." You mumble, asking the server for another menu, deciding to get something different.

After that, things feel less tense. As you're waiting for your next plate of food, the two of you slowly began to talk a little. Nothing more than idle conversation, something to make things less awkward. And it was just that, less awkward. Surprisingly, the two of you had more in common than your prideful attitudes, and that quickly sparked another conversation, even as you acquired your food. You asked about his brother-- which turned out to be brothers-- and he began to speak of each of them.

It was strange, seeing how different he was when he spoke of each of them. Though he seemed to carry an easily annoyed older brother tone and expression as he discussed them, you could see pride-- a different pride than he usually carried-- behind his eyes as he spoke.

"Do you have any sisters?" You suddenly asked curiously, and his expression seemed to fall in that moment, sorrow flashing through his eyes momentarily. "Yes." He replied quietly and plainly, moving right on the with the subject, proceeding to ask you of your family instead. You didn't push the subject. You two may despise each other-- again, you wouldn't admit as to why-- but you knew when to drop something. You still did have some form of basic respect after all.

Eventually, this time came to an end, and your stomach was full, and you were happy, ready to spend some time studying. You wished you could've been studying as you ate-- hence why you ordered the pizza-- but you actually... nevermind.

After he'd walked you home, you thanked Lucifer, and he thanked you as well, promising to return the shirt. You bid each other goodnight, and then you closed the door. For you, it was a nice night. For him, it was a good first step in his plan.

Over the next week, the two of you continued your usual antics, working up ideas to make each other late to class. However, you noticed Lucifer's seemed rather... well, lackluster, to put it simply. You'd give the man this, when he wanted to, he could usually come up with something good that would easily make you late. As of recent, though, they just seemed... lazy. Hell, you two were even chatting in class some, copying each other's notes-- well, you more so than him. As much as you hated to admit it, you got a little worried, and almost missed his rather cruel distractions.

Little to your knowledge, this was part of his plan. Well, him being easier on you. Not you showing up to his door one night.

When he opened the door and saw you there, he could only offer a confused look at your concerned one. "Yes?" He asked, hair wet and matted to his forehead, his shirt only half buttoned up. It was enough to make your face go red, quickly tearing your eyes from his partially exposed chest.

You completely forgot what you were going to say. Brain.EXE has stopped working.

"MC." He hums, catching your attention again. "Uh... I was just checking on you." You blurted out, accidentally being more forward than you wanted. His eyes widened slightly. "Oh. Why is that?" "No reason." Now it was his turn to scoff. "No reason? You're saying you walked halfway across campus for no reason?" "...Yes."

There's a silence between the two of you. It's awkward. Really awkward. "So, uh... you look like you're getting ready for something." You finally speak, noticing the nice shirt. "No." He replies bluntly, your smile falling. "Oh..." You look down, feeling embarrassed. You hear a low chuckle from him, looking back up, eyebrows furrowed upon noticing the amused look on his face. This fucking liar... "You're such a dick." You scoff. "A dick you walked halfway across campus for." Your face burns red again, and you turn to leave, but he stops you, grabbing your wrist and turning you back towards him.

He doesn't say anything for a moment, just looking down at you, flush against his chest. "...Yes?" You finally ask, swallowing thickly. "Would you like to accompany me tonight?" He asked, calm as could be. You're quiet for a minute, just looking at him. "Where are you going?" He shrugs. "Dinner."

And so, you go to dinner. Thankfully, you'd been wearing something decent enough to go to the place he had selected. On the drive there, he tells you his brothers are going to be there. Apparently they have this meet up sort of deal every few months or so, considering they all don't have time to meet up together very often, all of them spread out different places.

Lucifer, of course, was at college, was heir to their estate, and an assistant to a CEO by the name of Diavolo. Mammon and Asmodeus were both away on modeling tours a lot. Leviathan was a famous gamer and voice actor who traveled to conventions a lot to meet fans. Satan was traveling the world and writing a book about all sorts of different cats, Beelzebub was a famous chef and owned a couple restaurant chains, traveling often to keep an eye on them, and Belphie often traveled with him.

You had to admit, you felt a little out of place at dinner, and for a bit there, the brothers definitely seemed a little confused. One asked if you were Lucifer's lover-- *cough* Asmo *cough*-- and when you were confirmed not to, immediately tried to ask you out.

Of course, Lucifer shut that notion down quick. A little too quick for you not to notice.

Aside from that little stunt from the fifth born, things were rather relaxed. Everyone just talked, and relaxed, and soon enough, you fit right in.

During dinner, when everyone was quieter and eating, you noticed Lucifer staring at you. He appeared perplexed. However, the second you noticed he looked away.

To you, you simply shrugged it off. To him... his nice, simple plan started to fall apart. Distract you. Distract you... no, you were distracting him. And strangely enough, he didn't mind.

Once dinner was over, you said goodbye to the brothers, and he took you back to the dorm, just like last week. He bid you farewell just like last time, and turned to leave, but it was your turn to stop him this time. "Yes--?" He began to speak, but was cut off as he felt your lips press to his cheek.

"Goodnight, Lucifer. I'll see you tomorrow, hopefully." You said with a gentle smile before closing the door, a soft blush on your face.

Lucifer could only stand there, staring at the door for a minute. Eventually, he brought his hand to his face, pressing it against where you kissed him. It was confirmed. His nice, simple plan had fallen apart. You were his distraction now.

[rose-tinted-kalopsia]

Holy shit!!! Holy shit holy shit holy shit!!!

Holy fuck!!! Your Kieran Don't Let Me Love You fic!!! Aaaaaaaaah!!! It's so good!!! It so so intoxicatingly delicious!! I'm apologizing in advance for what a wall of text this probably will be and purely consist of me yapping

I spent like easily 2??? 3??? 2 and a half??? Hours just to read the whole thing. It's just so incredibly overwhelming in the best way possible! The way you describe the actions. The descriptions. The emotions. The thoughts!!! I actually took multiple a few minutes break during the time reading it, because it felt like my soul was enveloped in the narrative and I needed to breathe for a second!!

I've been thirsting over the twins this whole day, and Luke is actually the more favorable one for me but gosh your fic turned me into a new woman, NOW I TRULY LOVE THEM BOTH EQUALLY. KIERAN!!! Can't possibly agree more that the premise was fitting to Kieran like it was meant to be. You did an incredible job.

Being the quiet of the two, I really felt the amount of conversations were minimal- but meaningful, every single one of them. It fits him so much, I love the flow of conversations you wrote between the two. You have such a refined way of writing!! It's the ultimate mix of both poetic but easy to swallow for the common folk, it's wonderful harmony.

The pet names were everything. Every single one of them!! But personally, there's just something about being called angel by this guy who wears devil horns as his daily outfit that stirs me up so much. S i g h. I'm whipped.

The sexual tension on the flashback of the first time???? HOOOOO BOY LORD HAVE MERCY. I WOULD NEVER NOT SUCCUMB TO THAT. Such a tease. Delicious tease. I'm in tears. Good tears. I just love how all the boys here definitely can effortlessly carry us around and definitely always make us look up with their tall height. I love how the mention of Sylus visibly stirs some kind of reaction to him and how quick but desperate the whole thing was. That commending voice??? Sign me the fuck up. Please. Pretty please. I'm a putty at this point

Rules are the best. Because rules are meant to be broken. That delicious conflicting feeling of doing something should not be done!! You describe it perfectly and beautifully.

I really love how you imagine him being the closer of the two to Sylus, and it just makes sense so much in my brain?? Like, that's why he's so unaware of most outside things, since he was satisfied to just dedicate and stayed loyal to the boss.

Okay now this part is completely my delusion from your fic, and you might skip this if you don't like the thoughts of someone expanding the premise by themselves which I'll completely respect, but I imagined that- at least Luke had noticed before that fated day. Being twins and seemingly inseparable since little, I don't think there's any way either of them could keep a complete secret to each other. The other will notice. So! My personal delusion for this bit is, that Luke had noticed for a while. How Kieran gazes at her was always a second too long, the little things and gestures he believes his brother usually doesn't do for a single girl, and how sometimes his brother was just a little too immersed with whatever he was thinking, and how it felt different than any time before. But he kept quiet about it, obviously. Since Kieran wants to hide it, and Kieran might've got the feeling his brother had already realized from who knows when as well. But out of respect for each other, neither of them ever brought that up. Buuuuuut, Luke noticed the feelings and affection has grown, unbearably big. So he decided to finally confront Kieran about it, maybe saying a piece or two of his thoughts about it. Warning him, or something. And that's what spurs Kieran desperation and conflict that day. He had been mulling it over ever since his brother actually says something verbally to him about it, and at that point he must've tried to deny how fucked he is by then.

Aaaaaaand I also imagined depending whether both Sylus or only Luke have known, Luke would back them up about that day. Coming up with excuses and such, naturally. Either that, or both Sylus and Luke agrees that 'it took them long enough' (s i g h this'll be delicious angst as well depending if Sylus and Luke actually also have feelings for her) with or without this part of my delusion though, I loved the fic as a whole so so so much!

Okay, back to the actual fic. Let me just say i have a thing about good girl and it ascended me to heavens. Your Kieran has driven me crazy-- The depictions of how different he was acting that day was so good!!! And I really loved the repeating narratives, like Quiet, obedient, dutiful Kieran or Don't let me love you or There's no going back. Each one of them are so lovingly beautiful!!

His pleas! The urgency in his voice!! In his action!! The desperation!! Aaah you wrote all of them so well, I actually kept scrolling back up and rereading the lines and description while still reading it because it's just so so so good. And let's not forget the domineering overpowering attitude.... I'm melting...

I really love the switch between the frantic desperation of the first part to the soft loving gentle need after we finally saw Kieran's face. And may I mention I think the fact you're able to describe him and all his emotions and expression so well while deliberately opting out any actual description of his visual is???? Such?? A genius?? Move?? His action, his touch, his face, his expression, I can imagine it all clearly thanks to your amazing writing, and yet I can freely imagine the actual face according to my own imagination! I think that was such a skillful bit.

I really love the moment of vulnerability between the two, how both of them had each of their own time where they finally broke down in tears. Aaaaah such a good narrative.

AND THE PART WHERE HE CALLED OUR NAME???? AAAAAAAAH DELICIOUS!! BEAUTIFUL!!! BRAVO!!!! I love it so much!! I always favor 2nd person pov fics where there never was actual dialogue calling out the name with Y/N- not that there's anything wrong with it other than my preference, but description of it always appeal me more. So thank you for feeding me in that aspect! Aaah! I'm in love!

The bits of how slow the walls slowly crumble, how even after meeting eye to eye he tried so hard to restrain himself, I love it so much. It felt necessary and shows just how much thin the ice they were threading were. I'm s o l d.

The cockiness of his tease on the Miss Hunter shenanigans??? And yet followed suit with his genuine apology afterward??? Have I said I'm melting?? Because ugh it's such a good pacing.

When all restraints finally let loose and the fervent intense adoration came back into action!! It's so beautiful!! And gosh the confession. The confession. Couldn't have worded it any better... I like that he was the one to confess first and how we broke down from him, as it was always ambiguous more on our side than him- because he had always been able to see us through, but he always put on a mask- literally and figuratively. And I think it's just so so so beautiful.

I loved the ending line!!! As well as the little ramble you wrote afterward <3 can't agree more!! I'm definitely interested to read luke x kieran recommendation you linked at the end... But for now I've got things to do so I'll keep it for now!

Phew, it's really a lot of text. TLDR, I'm in love with your Kieran fic thank you so much I love your writing style so much. Thank you!

AHHH ANONIE 😭😭😭😭😭 i have reread this so many times bc this is so so so so incredibly sweet i'm so floored 🥺 and so honired 🥺 that you could have this much thoughts on something ive written... aaahh my heart's fluttering fr, anonie you've made me so happy 😭 esp knowing that you were able to picture kieran's face without the descriptors? that was super challenging to me but i'm sososososososo happy it came across well 😭🤍

FUN FACT i actually had part of this draft cut out! an entire scene where reader runs into luke while looking for kieran, and then subsequently realizes that luke knows ... so he's like, the push that gets both of them to realize they're not just fuck buddies (a la "we're just friends..." "sure, and friends do that" vibes) HAJDKAKFJA IT WAS A WHOLE THING. THE FIC REALLY COULD'VE BEEN LONGER. but i decided 7k words was enough 😭🤲

but overall i agree with you!!!! i was def biased towards luke at first, but writing this totally had me leaning more towards kieran <3 desperation and conflic with internal emotions or othereise co flict between duty and emotions is my FAVORITE to write, and kieran's character is SO fun to play with, esp with him being the younger of the two! he's surprisingly complex and i loved getting into the intricacies, i'm so glad that was conveyed hehe 🥰 you might be interested in the little analysis i had on kieran's character here !!! <3

THANK YOU again anonie 🥺 i wish i had the words to actually say how grateful i am for this because it's just so incredibly sweet 😭 know that i'm cradling you in my arms!!!

[dearweirdme]

https://www.tumblr.com/dearweirdme/740407316667662336/hi-rain-i-saw-you-say-something-about-jkkrs?source=share

you obvious haven't been in the taekook community for a long time or you haven't branched out outside of tumblr much because if you had you'd know that taekookers are (much like jkkrs) more tae biased than they are jk biased. like the whole story tkkrs built is about tae being the only victim in the whole vminkook shipping situation, jungkook the unfaithful man, and jimin being the "other woman" who seduces him and jungkook sometimes falling into his traps or sometimes he's forced by the company to play along. it depends on the situation and how it affected taekook/tkkrs.

and this isn't saying that jkkrs are better, i'm not defending either sides because i belong to neither as im not a shipper to begin with, i have just been in this fandom long enough to see how this whole shippers situation has started and played out to this day. and the one major thing i've noticed that both sides of shippers have in common is that they both care about the non-jungkook half of their ship more, and jungkook is mostly treated like a prop from both sides. for jkkrs, he's the "supportive boyfriend" who's only worth mentioning when they want to hype up jimin and make him look superior, and for tkkrs he's your typical 19-20th century husband who has a "job wife (jimin)" who's a potential homewrecker if she succeeds in seducing the husband, and whom the "real wife (tae)" gets jealous of and the couple are her victims.

so yeah, both sides don't really gaf about jungkook much outside of using him to either prop up their fave or victimize him. jungkook stans mostly aren't shippers and they're either ot7 armys who see both hyungs as jk's closest friends, or they're solos who have no tolerance for either one of the two and drag both the entire time. which is why vmk solos are always fighting with each other and why jjks in particular are always caught in the middle of ship wars, because they're the only ones who actually defend jungkook from the crossfire.

Alright anon, get of your condescending high horse, I'm sure it was possible to send me an ask that was more conversational. I could very well be wrong, and I believe I did state that I was talking from my point of view, most of my followers are perfectly able to understand that for what it is.

What are we taking as as a measuring point for fandom behavior then if you're so against my Tumblr point of view? Twitter? TO me that's like basing your opionon on food by going to MacDonalds. Sure you'll get some nice stuff there, it's fast, it's simple, it has something for everyone... but does it give you the whole food experience? Probably not. You'll not likely be able to remember much about the food you tasted there except for that it was good (or bad). (Not wanting to trash Twitter completely, I know there's good stuff on there and I'm definitely exagerating to make a point 😁). Twitter is designed to be fast and short and by that design it makes it more difficult do go into deep discussions. Twitter is great for pushing content and activating fandom, not so great for estimating how fandom shenanigans work, because your view of it will be heavily biased by the loudest voices.. not the most sane ones.

Tiktok's algorithm wil make sure you get no-where. Instagram does not give you a sense of volume and is more about images than about discussion.

Tumblr is ofcourse small in comparison, so we don't get a sense of volume. But it does allow room for discussion. It's also real easy to go back to former posts because it works as an archive a bit. So please don't treat Tumblr as though it doesn't count in forming an opinion.

So sure I might be off, but you might be as well.

[katyspersonal]

Send us your Edgar headcanons!!!

@ anon, I am so sorry. When you've sent this ask one eternity ago I started to reply and then got interrupted by mom and then forgot ;-; I can't be trusted with this stuff sometimes I swear.

🔎 I like the idea about him infiltrating Yahar'gul for spyoning, however my "official" timeline and headcanons are different! (is "official headcanon" even a thing? xD) I have him go into Byrgenwerth with Yurie/Julie and Fauxsefka and make his way into Nightmare of Mensis under pretense of being a wayward Byrgenwerth scholar! I've had posts covering this thing in more details as it draws upon some cut content and obscure implications from Mico's dialogoe in Japanese original, but in summary, I think that Lecture Hall used to be accessible from the part of Byrgenwerth in "real" world and it only got locked when Micolash had Rom block the Arcane Lake! Why he blocked the way in the end? Well.... because slowly, Edgar started to warm up to Micolash and find a kindred spirit in him, realizing that Choir was never a right place for him and fellow choirlings never "really" understood him. So he ended up confessing having been spying on him and playing part in figuring out how to ruin his Nightmare.

(Here are the posts about what's the deal with the Arcane Lake if you need them: ( x ) ( x ) !)

🔎 I think he avoided wearing Blindfold Cap back in Choir, and now that he "joined" School of Mensis he doesn't wear a cage intentionally as well! Choir's Blindfold symbolises entrusting your way and what you are allowed to see to the 'Stars', whereas Mensis Cage missing only one bar at the eyes level symbolizes being allowed to see the cosmic horrors how they are but also repressing free will and personality to not (literally) die from horror at these visions. Neither really appealed to Edgar as he is an individualists and prefers to preserve both the autonomy of his research and autonomy of how he will "take" his discoveries. It is a risky strategy but he is a strong-willed and strong-minded man, besides he got a lot of Sedatives! This attitude made him similar to Laurence which is something I've realized only late in writing him, but now I am using it as an excuse for what attracted Micolash to him.

🔎 Edgar infiltrated at 'warm' season:

🔎 He originally was a teacher in one of the schools under Healing Church's influence! I assume Healing Church hired the foreigners abundantly that's hinted by how Brador's clothes (stated to be foreign) copy male Black Church clothes and foreign set of Paleblood Hunter copies male White Church clothes. But Edgar started to notice that whenever after the nights of the hunt any of his pupils became orphans, soon nice people in white robes from higher echelons would take them and these orphans would never be seen again :/ He was nosy enough to try and figure what was going on, but thanks to his intelligence and actor skills he managed to convince the Choir to let him work for them rather than getting thrown into a jail for people that learned too much. It was painful to manage being around people experimenting on children... at first. He was able to stomach the idea that after how much cosmic horrors were unleashed the world was as good as ending and orphaned children objectively had much higher chance to call upon Great Ones of higher rank than Choir's half-human ally Ebrietas and receive their wisdom and blessing.

🔎 He is really physically fit, actually! The guy can throw a very good punch. Not just because he uses Ludwig's Holy Blade, but there are also stats indicating he is stronger than frikin ALFRED and I can't forget this detail for even one day:

🔎 For as long as Edgar remembered he was unintentionally rude, very rarely emoting and when he did it was very strong and explosive, appearing as though he was not interested in feelings and lives of others, not running his mouth in vain (save for his special interests) and of course he would not do things that made no sense for him. His first attempt at dating ended up pretty toxic as his girlfriend not only could not quite accept him and expected him to magically "warm up" in relationship, but also kept emotionally manipulating him into abiding by her demands. Like I said, he would not do shit for others, no matter how simple, if it made no logical sense in his eyes, so seeing how she never could have her way with him without going through proving her point to him rationally, she resorted to the worst kind of behavior - guilt-tripping and threatening. He was only a teenager back then and that unfortunate relationship made him falsely conclude that maybe women were just like that, so he searched a guy to date later. The very first guy that shown interest in him, who was also..... well, older let's call it that. But that guy walked his own dark path, did crimes and tried to pull Edgar into all that using Edgar's extraordinary intelligence and sense of alienation from society, and eventually absconded.

🔎 He also had a best friend that his parents tended to treat more like their son than Edgar himself. A friend who also claimed credit over blueprints of Edgar's inventions that he left behind when he departed to seek Yharnam unable to help his curiousity over what THE heck that town was doing (the world travelled). Some people were sad that Edgar left, like teachers, library workers, various people he's been helping with voluntary work. He also once protected a couple from getting robbed - like I said, the guy is STRONG. But yeah, he was a good man, and for many people, he just had a bad luck of choosing the wrong kind as close ones.

🔎 Pearl Slug item suggests that the Augurs might be all different colors! At Choir, Edgar enjoyed sorting the unhatched eggs of the slugs by the color when he had a free minute x) Another funny habit is to pretentiously fumble with an abacus when he is sharing some numbers. He would also get very antsy if someone took HIS Choir Bell, even if they were all the same and not branded and interchangeable. He actually always gets extremely protective over 'his' things in terms where they are all interchangeable and there is no ownership per say.. Once he uses something, it is now HIS and he feels nearly spiritual attachement to it. When he abandoned his Choir tools to display to Micolash that he DID stick by his side from now own, he was especially reluctant to give away his Call Beyond simply because Micolash would keep it instead of just letting it flee. To this day Edgar is slightly uneasy with it, as if Micolash owns a part of his 'soul' by it.. and at the same time, he finds strangely erotic enjoyment in the fact.

🔎 It is really hard to make him laugh, but he does have sense of humor! He just 'laughs internally' most of the time.

🔎 Remember how I said he was brave and disobedient to authority to a fault, and it was his intelligence that had Choir decide he was worth this stress and too precious to just get rid of? This guaranteed he heard all about Laurence from his new friends. People that knew Laurence well joked that they could've been "twins" and would get along. It was not the first in his life when he felt like he knew people he never met better than people in his own life.

🔎 He can get overly affectionate at someone saying a lot of smart things (that they genuinely comprehend, of course) or passionately sharing something they know a lot about. If he is close with someone and they are doing this, he will reach the point of shiny eyes and willing to suffocate them in a hug :') When Micolash is being very nerdy, Edgar might start smooching him uncontrollably. Like... yeah, normal flirting will make Edgar a bit shy at most, you charm him by opening your soul to him by infodumping!

🔎 Edgar strongly prefers to 'stay in shape'. That's why he'd go fight some beasts willingly even when they were not a direct treat to him and it was predominantly "dirty job" for Black Church hunters escort, that's why he carries people in his arms when there is a reason (so yes, do not confuse it with him being overly gentlemen-ish x) ). In the Nightmare, he might as much as pick a friendly fight with the residents, like fencing with one of the Shadows for example xD He sometimes also likes testing himself by being around Winter Lanterns.. That usually doesn't end well and Micolash has to save him. Yes, MICOLASH has to save someone from going insane. I swear all kind of wild shit happens with these two fjhfdhfsd

______________

Thank you for an ask!! Again, sorry I forgot about it.. You've sent it when I had a bad day and seeing it in my inbox did cheer me up, though! I always like to talk about Edgar, he is genuinely one of my favs! (With headcanons posts though I tend to default to 'story and loredigging' aspects so narrowing headcanons asks to concrete topics like relationships, habits, etc is always acceptable and even welcomed! Helps me to focus and cover more things rather than my default settings)

[marley-manson]

hahaha yes.jpg i was hoping you'd rb that writing ask game i am v curious about 💝💋🍭🌿 and may be back with others if i see no one asks them

Oh nice, tyvm! Glad I decided to reblog after all lol

💝 what is a fic that got a different response than you were expecting?

hmmm, I'm a litte surprised that my Hawkeye/Frank fic got a lot of positive comments, but as a smaller pair it does kinda make sense since people looking through the ship tag are more likely to find it and be excited about a new fic.

Also in general any comments about someone being emotionally affected by what I write is a little surprising (and really awesome), because I'm pretty emotionally detached from my own writing, and I tend to aim for subtle indications of emotion over big statements and idk if it works most of the time lol, so if I make someone feel some kind of way it feels like a real success.

💋when you leave comments on a fic, do you want to hear back from the writer?

I actually don't care either way, whatever the author does is fine with me. If I leave a long involved comment I might look forward to a response, but if I don't get one I'll forget about it in a day or two anyway lol, and it's nbd.

🍭why did you start writing?

Like way back when I was a kid I just had ideas I wanted to express somehow, and I was no good at drawing lol so it had to be writing. I usually only wrote summaries and outlines of stuff at first, then I started writing scenes and failed attempts at fic that never got anywhere bc I'd run out of steam after half a scene, then longer scenes, and now I'm finally writing full fics. And I still write because I have ideas/opinions/hot takes that I want to express and sometimes meta just doesn't cut it.

There's also a 'be the change you want to see' mentality lol, I only feel inspired to write if no one else is writing [concept]. One nice thing about being really picky about characterization is that the motivation to write remains pretty constant, because the more specific I am about what I want to see, the less likely it is that someone else has already written it.

🌿how does creating make you feel?

I enjoy it! If I didn't enjoy it I wouldn't do it lol, I have v little willpower to push myself through something I don't want to or have to do. I do find it most enjoyable when writing from Hawkeye's pov right now - like I genuinely really enjoy describing things from Hawkeye's pov, the comparisons he makes, the way he phrases stuff, it's super fun to emulate and I always get a little kick when I write something that feels genuinely funny or witty lol. If I'm writing "my own" prose (or BJ's pov lol) then I find that the act of putting words together feels more like work and I have to get enjoyment from just creating what I want to see.

I'm actually unofficially planning to polish up and finish a Berserk wip I've had in my docs for like 5 years for a fandom event, and I'm wondering if I'll have fun or find it a chore lol, since I'm not at the height of my Berserk obsession and neither character has an intrinsically fun voice to write in.

[waveridden]

FIC: i want so bad to feel steady

This is why he knew that Max didn’t die when he disappeared. (Neoscum/Alice Isn’t Dead AU, Tech/Dak, 1.7k)

(With all my love to Tam, who suggested an Alice Isn’t Dead AU a while ago.)

AUcember || read on ao3 || title lyric

#

“So,” Dak says, “where are you from?”

The guy in the passenger seat doesn’t really say anything, which is kind of par for the course. He’s barely said a word since Dak picked him up on the side of the road. But he does shift in his seat where he’s looking out the window, which Dak takes as a sign that he can keep going.

“Me, I’m from Chicago.” He drops his right hand and leans back to rest his elbow on the center console. “Big city! All the people, all the things happening. Thought I was gonna have a life there. Thought I was gonna do okay.”

Passenger Seat, who still hasn’t given Dak a name, curls in a little on himself. He seems like a nice guy, all considered. Sweet, round face. Nice beard. Old hoodie. Beat up sneakers, the kind that look like they’ve been worn pretty much every day since the guy bought him. He smells like… something weird, something specific, and his hair is covered in oil.

There are also tears streaked down his cheeks. Dak didn’t ask about that.

“I tried,” he continues, because hell, if he’s got someone there, he might as well talk. “I really did, you know? But you can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make him… settle down. That’s the thing about settling down, is it doesn’t just happen. It’s a choice you gotta make every day, to be settled in, and I got tired of making the choice. And so I went back to the road!” He lifts his hand, wiggles his fingers towards the magic emptiness of California. “Where I always belonged.”

The guy doesn’t respond, and Dak lets his hand drop to the wheel. “I got lucky, though. A lot of people never find anything or anyone they love the way I love this road. I’ve seen some great things out here. Some horrible things, but some great things.”

And then, a miracle: the guy says something. It’s muffled because his mouth is against his elbow which is against the window, but Dak can hear him answer.

“Gotta speak up, buddy,” Dak says cheerfully, adjusting the brim of his cap. “We’re all about open communication here! And by open I mean the kind of thing you can understand easily, all things considered.”

The guy props his chin on top of his elbow, still facing the window. “I said, mostly horrible things.”

Dak glances at him. He sees the bruises on the guy’s arms now, the way one of his hands is resting on his fanny pack like he’s protecting something. The reflection of his eyes in the mirror, not like he’s just staring out the window but like he’s watching.

“Oh,” Dak says quietly. “You mean the thistle men.”

  #

  People tend to assume that Dak is stupid.

Which, okay, it’s not like they’re wrong, by some ways of measuring smartness. Dak can’t do math much harder than figuring out how much gas he needs to get. He can read, but it’s not easy, because he gets letters and words backwards more than he gets them right.

But he can drive. He can drive faster than most truckers, and he’s done this job for a long, long time. He knows how to get shipments where they’re going.

He’s also good with people, which nobody ever seems to expect. They think he doesn’t pay attention, but really, he just knows what’s worth paying attention to. Someone’s favorite food or favorite color is nice to know, sure, but it’s nicer to know when a friendly hand on the shoulder is going to be that missing piece to helping them relax. It’s nicer to know that someone really needs one less thing to worry about, so that he can offer them leftover food or a ride home from work or things. He’s not good at social rules, but he’s good at reading people.

This is why he knew that Max didn’t die when he disappeared.

Granted, it’s not like Dak saw the kid that often. He got a job straight out of high school, saving up for his sister’s medical bills and for college and for whatever the hell else he wanted. Dak had some money set aside, too, because he always had a soft spot for those kids. Especially Max.

And then Max had vanished one day. At first people thought he ran away, but Dak knew he wouldn’t. That kid wouldn’t leave his sister for anything less than the most important thing in the world, anything less than her absolute safety. But he’d also known that Max hadn’t died.

His family ushered him to support group after support group, and after a while Dak stopped saying he knew Max was still alive. The kid was eighteen, he was young and it was tragic and whatever the hell else people wanted him to think, but sometimes people disappear and die. Sometimes people die.

The part that Dak won’t tell strangers in the passenger seat of his truck just yet is: settling down is a choice, but chasing after the ghost of your sister’s kid when you see his face on a national news segment is a choice, too. And hell, it’s hardly a choice to make.

  #

  The passenger calls himself Tech Wizard, which Dak’s not about to question because it’s hardly the weirdest name he’s ever heard. He’s also from Chicago, and he doesn’t want to talk about it. And the thistle men killed his parents when he was four years old.

(“I didn’t call them thistle men,” Tech says, after Dak explains what exactly a thistle man is. They’re men, sort of, but they’re… wrong. They eat people, for one thing. They walk kind of like marionettes with a stick up their ass and half the strings cut, for another. And they smell weird, which Dak hopes he’ll never remember again, because he never wants to be that fucking close to them.

“What did you call them?” Dak asks, curious despite himself.

Tech shrugged. “Nightmares, mostly.”)

He’s trying to get out of California. Which is a coincidence, because Dak is trying to get out of California. Specifically, he’s trying to drive his shipment to Kentucky, and if they take the right route that takes them through Colorado. Through where Tech says his parents died.

They stop for the night in northern Nevada, somewhere in the desert where nobody is going to bother them. Dak takes them to a truck stop and Tech doesn’t complain, just rubs a little more of the oil into his hair as he sets up shop in the back of Xanadu.

“What’s with the oil?” Dak asks by way of conversation, because he’s no expert but he’s pretty sure you’re supposed to keep your hair from getting oily.

“Heather oil.” Tech holds up a little bottle of it. “Keeps the thistle men away. Don’t know why, but I always carry some on me. My nana taught me to.”

“Your nana?”

“And it works.”

Dak nods. “You got enough to share?” He holds out a hand, palm up.

Tech taps a couple of drops out of the bottle into Dak’s hand. “What I’m doing is overkill,” he says, a little sheepishly. “That’s enough that if you slap them it’ll sting.”

“If I slap someone, I want it to sting.” Dak winks, and Tech inexplicably blushes. “So now you’re, what, roaming the country looking for thistle men to sting with your hair?”

“Not really,” Tech says, although he doesn’t sound upset by how grossly Dak has misestimated what his life is all about. “I just got tired of being one place. But I couldn’t do this without trying to… to… protect myself.”

He’s lying, at least a little bit. But it doesn’t sound like he’s lying about any of the important parts, so Dak lets it go. “What are you going to do if you find them?”

Tech goes still. He’s sitting on Dak’s futon, wearing a pair of Dak’s sweatpants that are too short on him, wearing the same hoodie that he was wearing when Dak found him. He doesn’t look vulnerable but he looks like he belongs, and like he doesn’t know what to do when he feels like he belongs.

“I don’t know,” Tech says at last. “But I’m gonna make it fucking hurt.”

Dak barks out a laugh at that and sinks down onto the futon next to him. “You and me both, my dude,” he says, and Tech half-smiles at that. “Let me fucking tell you, I’m ready to give those thistle men some hell when we find ‘em.”

“You’re looking for them?”

“Not them.”

“Someone?”

“My sister’s kid,” Dak says, and hell, he wasn’t expecting to bring this up, but he’ll see it through. “Max.”

“He’s missing?”

“Disappeared about five years ago.”

“And you think you’re gonna find him?”

“I think-” Dak exhales, as measured as he can make it. “I gotta try, you know?”

“It’s a choice,” Tech says softly. When Dak turns, he’s looking at him like he understands. Like he, more than any other person in Dak’s whole life, understands why Dak uprooted his life and his relationship to try and find a ghost of Max in the wind. “And you made your choice.”

Tech doesn’t look too surprised when Dak reaches a hand out and hooks it behind his neck, but he still breathes in sharply before Dak’s lips meet his. He smells like heather, so much that it’s overwhelming. He also tastes not like heather but like essential oil, and it’s kind of gross, honestly. But his mouth is slick and warm against Dak’s, and his lips part into a sigh as Dak kisses him.

“That was a choice, too,” Dak says, more or less mumbling against Tech’s mouth. “Thought we could use it.”

“You thought right,” Tech says, and then he’s kissing Dak again. Because even if the rest of the world is open and terrifying and full of thistle men and things Dak can’t understand, they can still have this. They can have heather oil and each other, a shield against the danger.

[r0-boat]

So like, Imagine.

Emmet is ranting to the substitute hero.

"Honestly, Months of scheming all for some Nobody to waltz through the door."

"Wow harsh."

"Ah well, even with your sub optimal brain activity you'll make a verrry good meal for my Joltiks."

"Wa-wait a minute I didn't Ask to cock block you. Ya know! I've got my own nemesis who's probably really confused why (Reader Hero Name) is crashing our work date instead of me...crashing my own work date. You get the idea!"

"I am Emmet and I am confused. You did not Choose this assignment?"

"Nope, I'm supposed to be down town watching a terribly adapted book flick. I mean, stopping my nemesis from destroying a movie theater...playing the terribly adapted book flick. We'd throw some one liners, throw some debris, Accidentally destroy those awful movie files in the process. Then sit in the wreckage and eat some popcorn together."

"But instead I'm Here being insulted by, you, because one of our company supervisor's doesn't believe Hero Nemesis relationships should be encouraged. So neither of us is having a good day."

"I see...and what is the Name of this supervisor?"

"..."

A few minutes later after the Substitute hero is untied.

"Okay so this is the Supervisor's name and image on the company website. Asshole doesn't even set Foot in the office half the time. Just constantly telling us 'lowly workers' where to go otherwise we get our asses chewed. Last week he said if he catches us taking 'too long with our villian interactions' we could suffer a pay dock. Can you believe that shit?"

"How awful." Ingo agrees as he buzzes around readying their transport.

"Verrry unprofessional. But please continue." Emmet prompts taking notes.

"Oh that's the Tip of the iceberg, there's also a gag order on heroes communicating with their nemesis on the clock otherwise it's Major disciplinary action. Like how does that make sense!? How are heroes supposed to go Meet their villains in battle if we can't communicate!? Also his car looks like this...and..."

Meanwhile at the Movie Theater. The Hero Reader is consoling the Substitute Hero's Villan.

"Like, we planned this date for Months. I know Pookie said work was really cracking down, but I never expected they'd pull This!" CRASH! "IT'S SO NOT FAAAAAAAIR!"

You patted the now monstrous form of the villain on the shoulder as they sobbed. Slow day at the movie theater meant minimum evacuations and without your own villains your heart really wasn't in it for battle.

"There there, I know the feeling you're going through. My day as a hero just isn't complete until I've heard my villains' monolog at least once."

"WELL WAIT NO LONGER MY DARRRLING!"

The hero reader swivels to see the twins and the substitute hero standing in the entrance to the movie theater with snacks from the concession stand.

"Boys!?"

"POOKIE!!!"

"Hi babe! OOF!" You were too stunned to laugh as your coworker was engulfed in a twirling hug by their nemesis. "I'm So sorry babe. I wanted to tell you what happened but-"

"Shh," The other villian assured, now back in their more humanoid appearance. "I know you didn't mean to hurt my feelings Pookie, I'm just happy you found a way to be here."

"Well, I can't take full credit for that idea." You coworker gestured to your own villains. "Now, let's go tear that movie to shreds!"

"YEEEES!"

The two ran further into the complex with a STOMP STOMP STOMP STOMP to find the flick that had apparently offended them so.

You were still a little bewildered but smiled after them. Two peas in a pod it seemed.

"What's on your mind, dearest?" Emmet cooed, draping his arms over your shoulders and pressing his lips to your temple.

You leaned into the warmth. "That was a sweet thing you two did." You commented. "Giving up your own plan so those two could have their date I mean."

"Technically it was a mutual exchange." Ingo supplied coming to your side and taking your hand so he could bring it to his lips for a kiss.

"Indeed, coming here led us to you. We would not have done so otherwise." Emmet assured, with almost complete confidence.

"True, but you could've goaded my coworkers villian into coming to You. But instead you did the opposite." You felt Emmet tense. "Gotcha, you big softie."

"I am Emmet and I am Not Soft."

"Okay but you are though."

"I am Not!"

"Are."

"NOT!"

"Are~"

"No-Mmph! Mmm...mmm..." His protest was cut off by him melting into your affection.

You smiled against Emmet's lips as you broke the kiss. Then you whispered "are~"

Emmet blushed and grumbled, but didn't release you from the hold he had on your back. Ingo even let out a small chuckle before taking his turn for some of your affection.

"Mmm," Ingo's lips parted from yours only briefly before he went back for more. You'd all missed this.

"But don't worry. That's why I adore you both so much. My nemeses." You cooed happily. "Now Ingo could you step back a moment dear?"

"Hm? Of course." He did so. "But may I ask wh-?"

You wrapped your arms around one of Emmet's and fuckin TOSSED his ass, (but landed him gently) over your shoulder onto the movie theater carpet.

He was stunned for a moment, before a huge grin broke across his face even as he lay flat out on the floor. "You are going to regret that Hero!"

You felt warmth pool in your cheeks and body. "We'll just have to see about that. Villians!" You hopped back, feeling your power course through your veins as your twins readied their offense.

"En garde Boys!

And so on that day a new loophole was discovered regarding heroes and nemesi double dates, the public loves a good collaboration after all.

Well, there was One person who wasn't thrilled about the outcome. But as one person might say "They had barely enough brain activity to satisfy a Joltik, so who cares what they think?"

Can you imagine a giant monster of a villain just sitting in a tiny seat being consulted by the hero and the just hand them a small tissue. The huge monster thanks them politely and takes the tiny tissue with their sharp claws.

Also thank you so much for this Beaker! this describes exactly the kind of tone this Au would have.

Also also, I would like to imagine the Board is confused and very concerned when all of their Heroes just started banging their villains, and they don't know what to do. Obviously, they couldn't fire all their workers, so they basically just said no work PDA...lol.

Emmet had "no talk, me angry" energy and I love it.

[eldritch-spouse]

What if Breg's s/o is insecure about some part of thier body? How does he remedy that?

I just want someone to tell me that it's okay to have small boobs I'm sorry

[Eyy, welcome to small tiddie city, population me and you anon! I've never had a problem with my chest, I hope whoever made you feel that way eats gravel.]

(Minors dni) This got NSFW sorry...

Breg doesn't understand.

He just doesn't.

The monster has grappled with insecurity numerous times in the past, and to this day, he still body checks excessively in what amounts to a toxic subconscious habit brought on by the constant evaluation of his physique at the facility. He didn't think humans and other monsters out there did this, primarily because Breg had no idea about the heavily damaging pressures society inflicts upon the populous.

His view of the outside world is forever tainted to be overly positive and simplistic, because he idolized it ever since he learned that there was more to the world than fluorescent blinding lights, white ceramic tiles, restraints, syringes and pumps. Everything out there had to be better, right?

Well, Breg's not so sure of it now, when he finally realizes why his mate hides her breasts from him.

The breeder thought, in his infinite lack of common sense, that he just wasn't meant to see that part of you. That it somehow was something some humans thought was offensive. Breg was curious, and confused, especially because he had already seen and touched your breasts at night. There isn't anything wrong with them that Breg can tell, they feel really nice and warm.

Breasts on their own are a mystery to the breeder, females of his kind have no such chest adornments, and neither does Breg feature nipples. The fact saddens him, those button-like protrusions seem sensitive and he bets they'd be fun to play it. It took Breg a long while until he grasped that there exists a certain social stigma attached to human women with smaller chest-appendages- Which you subsequently felt in your day to day life.

That just doesn't make sense.

Why would people make a fuss about small breasts when the results are the same? They still do everything breasts are supposed to do, they're just compact. He's heard somewhere humans produce milk, you can still do that, right? Heavens he has to try that someday... R-Regardless. Breg thinks you're supremely attractive with your current breast size, in fact, he'd go as far as to say that a smaller chest makes you look a little more like those of his kind. Not that he minds your differences, it's just a little comforting to think about the similarities between the two of you sometimes.

There you are again, getting dressed for the day while he makes breakfast- Breg's getting better at it. His stellar mood at being able to not ruin bacon quickly plummets when he spots you looking intensely at the full-body mirror near your wardrobe. There's deep disdain in your eyes, a stone-cold sneer the breeder shivers at- He can't imagine you giving that look to anyone else, much less yourself. Shaky hands grab the undersides of your luscious tits, pushing them up and together in front of your reflection. Breg almost forgets himself, content to watch you play with your boobs half-naked like the hopeless creep he's always been. Really, he's itching to touch you already, he can't fathom how you don't love your squishy little body. You're a bundle of beauty, raw allure, and Breg has never been so horrendously in love in his entire life. A sullen sigh jolts him back to your complexion, watery eyes attempting to blink away a sea of sadness that is inexplicable to him.

Okay, that's enough now...

The monster grumbles, setting the plate he had ready down on the hall table and barging inside the bedroom. Although you yelp in shock, there's no time for you to try and immediately shove a shirt on, because Breg rips it out of your grasp and pushes you back-first onto the mirror. The first thing you do is cover your breasts protectively, much to his distaste.

" Breg! I- What are you-? Don't look! "

Oh, he's not looking, he's admiring.

Breg doesn't speak, words are far from his specialty- Just squats to the floor and shoves his entire face on your soft tummy, massive hands holding you firmly in place by the waist as he start peppering long, fevered kisses up your abdomen. He wishes he could force you to love your body the same way he insatiably craves it. His mate flushes and looks away, offering resistance when he gently tries to pry persistent palms away.

The breeder growls at you, a sound that, albeit heavily muted (for you alone), still makes you freeze in place- Seldom are the times you recall getting such an aggressive reaction from him. The jarring sound is replaced by a soothing croon the moment you hesitantly expose yourself to the breeder. The shame on your face kills him inside a little. Breg hums, immediately darting to mouth at your chest. He kisses and sucks at the skin there hard enough to force breathy vocalizations out of you, the size difference allowing his fat blue tongue to circle each mound, dangerous teeth harmlessly framing the delicate protrusions and leaving trails of drool on your perfect tits.

Breg licks his teeth, taking the time to study your now flustered, beet red expression, before flipping you around and dragging you into his front. There's still some doubt in your eyes, as if you don't believe the breeder could enjoy your boobs, even though he just disgracefully rolled them on his tongue with endless joy. The monster allows his already twitching cocks to brush your skin.

" I don't care how small they are. " He starts, speech surprisingly even. A lurid, open-mouthed grin stares back at you from the mirror. The male grinds against you. " How much do you bet I can still make them bounce? "

The way you clench your thighs together has Breg nearly foaming. You're not leaving that bedroom until you're too fucked out to think about the size of your tits. That's a promise.

[cowandcalf]

Thanks again @mayberrycryptid for tagging me! I love that @trickster-archangel created such a great ask! Thank you so much!

I gave that topic a lot of thought and I just want to let you in on my POV. I go with the two separate worlds that are the mind of a civilian and the mind of a SEAL and I'm convinced neither of the guys would ever say 'I love you' in a manipulative way. They really mean it when they say it.

In 7.01 Danny is worried out of his mind for Steve and fears the worst. He has hoped that this terrible accident and the GW to the liver would bring Steve to his senses about how to treat his body with much more care. Instead of saying "I'm so worried about you. I don't want to lose you and when you keep being so reckless, I fear burying you before we have a chance of enjoying life outside Five-0 because I love you" … instead of saying that Danny rants at Steve and tries to make him guilt-ridden by accusing him of being ungrateful. Danny is passive-aggressive, we've experienced this before (the stakeout episode.) And Steve wants to calm Danny but instead of saying "Look, Danny, I'm a SEAL and my body is just another tool. I will never change. I don't want to change because that's who I am. I need to prove myself every day because I'm wired like this. That's who I am. My oath comes first, always. I don't mind dying to protect others. I know it's difficult to understand my world and how it works but as long as I can walk, I'll fight. I don't do rest-ups and stuff like that. It's not how my mind works. It's not what I want" … instead of saying that, he says that he loves Danny and that his love for him has nothing to do with how he treats his body.  

(And just for the 'proving always something' stuff: McRaven explains why every SEAL no matter how far he'd come has to prove himself every day of his life. He had a horrible parachute accident and almost got torn in half. When he was able to walk again he mingled with his men on the daily PT course and dragged himself through it, his body not quite fit yet from the accident. One sailor came up to him and said 'Why are you doing this? You don't have to prove anything anymore' and McRaven (Admiral) explains with vehemence why this sailor was wrong. Because every SEAL must prove himself every day of his entire life. Always. No slack. Never. Ever. Not one second. So, there you go and it makes more sense to what Steve is dealing with and why he doesn't want to take a break not even for the people he loves because it's who he is!)

Neither Danny nor Steve express what they really feel and mean. In the end, (7.01) Steve only agrees to take a few days off because he isn't doing well. He always rubs his fist against his heart. He knows that his body needs to rest but he only does it because he needs to, not because Danny has asked him to. He never rests. That's not what SEALs do. And in 10.22 he just can't live the way he did not even for Danny he can stay. He needs to go away. And in both moments his 'I love yous' are meant in the most honest way. From my POV.

Some information to understand SEALs better:

I guess, one needs to understand a SEAL's mind to make sense of what they do to their body. I only can refer to all the articles and books I read, to the podcasts I've been listening to held by former Navy SEALs where they exchange life experiences as a SEAL. I will add all the links to those great podcasts at the bottom of my little meta so you can hear and read for yourself. Resting and taking care of injuries isn't really on the top of their list.

SEALs are a special breed, and they treat their body differently. It's a tool that is used until it breaks and even broken, they use it until they collapse only to recover as fast as possible to jump right back into the game. It's what they do. It's how they are wired. They aren't successful because they treat their body carefully and respectfully, or living healthily. They are successful because they stress the physical laws to the max and even further. And they are trained to do that in every second of every day as long as they live. I don't speak for all of course, and my horizon is limited but what I learned so far fits Steve's behavior.

Just an example of what aspirants in BUD/S need to endure and want to endure because it's voluntary and they could ring the bell anytime, but they have a goal, and no matter what they rather die than give up. They deal with concussions, broken bones, dangerous infections, and near-drownings, many of them suffer from SIPE (Swimming induced pulmonary edema) from surf torture and they just keep going. After BUD/S, especially Hell Week their body is wrecked.

There was this article I posted once: Death in Navy SEAL Training Exposes a Culture of Brutality, Cheating, and Drugs

And here you can listen to the podcast with Jocko Willink and Rich Diviney talking about attributes, drug abuse in BUD/S, and why training must be hell and only hell among so many great other things.

And here you can listen to the podcast with Jocko Willink and Admiral McRaven talking about life in the Navy, being a SEAL, and all the missions they experienced. Wisdom of the Bullfrog. A fantastic podcast I highly recommand.

And as for Danny - he learns to speak his mind and express his deep worries later on in the season when Steve got hit with a portion of radioactivity from the dirty bomb. There he finally could just tell Steve how much he is worried and there Steve admits that he is worried too but he needs to keep going.

It's a completely idiotic thought brought on by my insomnia, but last night I suddenly realised that Steve’s 'I love you' at the end of 10x22, before leaving Danny (thus doing something he knows will hurt and/or disappoint Danny), has absolutely the same meaning, tone, and purpose, as Steve's 'I love you' in 7x01, when Danny is trying (and failing) to make him reason and not throw his life away. It's basically the only method Steve's devised to stop Danny and offer some sort of justification for the shit he's about to pull, despite knowing he's doing something wrong.

Ok I swear in my mind it made sense, but after today and with only a few hours sleep I'm not logical anymore!

ok so! here is my take on it but I would love to have others chime in cuz this fandom has the bestest metas and thinkee thoughts.

sneakily tags: @cowandcalf @stephmcx @ellena-asg @teruel-a-witch

Steve is a SEAL and SEALs get a ton of training. He's also a mess, thanks to shitty parenting, trauma of his mom's death and Freddy's death and his dad's death, and a whole lot of PTSD, on top of a pretty rough re-entry into civilian life.

I think Steve honestly means it when he says it both times, but he is still being emotionally manipulative. He is taking the counseling and doing what he is trained to do--use the tools he has been given to achieve the end goal.

What's really awful, but heartbreakingly accurate, is we're also seeing in both scenes how Steve can so easily fall into Doris' pattern of emotionally manipulating her family.

Thats the problem with abuse and trauma. People are so comfortable with these patterns that form such a huge part of their lives that it's seductively easy to repeat those patterns, even when they fighting tooth and nail not to.

This is also why so many stories about survivors make me do a hard eye roll. Being a survivor is not about suddenly being magically all better. Being a survivor is stepping into the shower and realizing that something you did at work last month was super shitty--and then feeling super guilty it took a full month for you to even grab a clue.

So yeah, you'e right but I believe Steve's not consciously aware of what he is doing. And I have always read Danny's expressions when Steve says it as Danny going into 'dad' mode.

Kids will often go through a 'I love you' phase where they try to wriggle out of consequences and Danny really seems to be like, Uh huh. I didn't buy it when Grace did it when she was three and I am not buying it now. But if you really want to act like a toddler, Steven, I'll humor you and say 'I love you' back.

cuz lets be honest, Danny humors Steve a lot😂😂😂

[egg-father-writes]

hoping ur still open for iswm requests!! if so any sort of x reader hcs involving gunther or celci would be so awesome I’ve seen next to nothing for either of those two and im literally dying to hold their hands

I've realized all of the things in my ask-box have been un-touched since May, again so sorry about that, but anyways I decided to go with both!! I love them sm ty anon

Characters: Gunther & Celci & GN!captain!reader

short summery: Gunther & Celci x GN!Captain!reader HCs

warnings: some cursing, slightly spicy + not proof-read + also, this is on the longer side of things, i went nuts

my requests are open <3

Celci

It was a little bit of a surprise to find out that you liked each-other

Mainly due to the fact that neither of you were very showy with your feelings

You wanted to make moves, you wanted to do so a lot, but you could never tell if it was the right time or how Celci would react

Celci was kind of the same, but she just hated the idea of making you un-comfy, especially because you're the captain. How could she make the work environment tense all because she tried flirting and you weren't into it?

You were the one to finally break the barrier between you two, you simply couldn't take your mind being a mess anymore

It happened in cryo, you and Celci were alone and you just spat your confession out

Celci was quiet for a while, she was stunned

you almost left, starting off with an apology before sharply turning around before Celci stopped you and returned her feelings

Celci is a little bit of an overthinker when it comes to romantic relationships.

After you two get together she tells you she never made a move because she was afraid of saying the wrong thing, and it would go down-hill quick

you assured her that even if you didn't feel the same that you wouldn't of turned it into something negative

after you two get together you love popping into Cryo during random times of the day to spend whatever time you can with Celci, you'll even bring her snacks and from time to time you'll have lunch dates in the room

half most of the time she has to give you her jacket so you don't freeze

you are quite literally the only person she'll lend her jacket to

lots of small and quick kisses!!

kiss the top of her head or her temples and her face will be pink the rest of the day. She loves it

she isn't really one for pda, but she doesn't hate it, it's just a bit overwhelming

she still likes holding-hands though, but only linking pinky fingers or linking arms as you two walk

if you two are sitting next to each-other expect a head on your shoulder/arm/head whatever makes sense for your height

her skin is constantly cold and she always forgets that, so do you, it always makes you jump when you get a cold hand on your face

she doesn't have any pet names for you, unless you count captain as one. It's not that she doesn't love you enough, because she would literally do anything for you, it's just that she doesn't feel the need to use them

But you do call her snowflake, she hates and loves it

Gunther

Again, it was a surprise that you liked each-other

but this time it was because neither of you could tell if the other were serious about the words you shared

to put it bluntly, Gunthers a flirt

as long as he knows the other person is okay with it he doesn't really hold back, that went for you as well, he doesn't care all too much that you're the Captain in that regard

when he did start flirting with you, once you figured out how to speak through being flustered, you could whip up your own special words to shoot right back at him

the moment he knew he had fallen for you was the first time you had flirted back, he wasn't expecting it, you had actually left him speechless

"You know Captain, if you need help with anything, and I mean anything, you can press my name on that little ole' tablet of yours and call me over" - "Does that mean you wouldn't mind helping me unwind after a stressful day? I've seen how good you are with your hands" - "..." - "...Gunther?"

His thoughts were nothing but "holy shit" - "Did the Captain just say that??" - "Am I hearing things??"

you two went back and forth for a few weeks after that, but it all came to a boil when things started to get physical

you were the one that stopped things, Gunther got immediately worried, he started to ask if it was too much, if he touched somewhere you didn't want to be touched and he started to apologize. Making someone upset was the last thing he wanted to do

But he felt a lot better when you said you needed to make things a bit more clear, he understood everyone has their boundaries... and then he was speechless again when you spoke about your feelings

he was quick to make it clear that he felt the same, as he didn't want you to think he was just purely flirting

"Captain, no offence but why do you think I was giving you much more attention than everyone else? You don't think it's just because your the Captain do you?"

Simply put, everyone knew you were together after that night.

His arm being draped around you whenever you were around and the marks left on your neck made that clear enough

Plus everyone knew it was real when you were able to steal his glasses and wear them without a threat of being shot

loves PDA, is down for it if you are. He wants to show you off

he isn't showing off the fact that he's with "The captain" he wants to show off the fact that he's with you

both of you have and use pet names for each-other

The usual set of names he has for you are "Darling/Angel/Love/Gunpowder" and of course "Captain"

You have a few you love to call him "Sharp-shooter/Muscles/Tough-Guy" one nick-name that he kind of hates but lets you call him is "Gunny"

Once, a crew member called him "Gunny" to tease him and almost instantly got his knee taken out if you weren't there to stop it

[msfbgraves]

Knights and Pawns

Don LaRusso loves his boy.

Terry sees it in the way the youngster's eyes keep darting back to him, during the ceremony, toasts, dance –the omega almost melts into his embrace – knows from the size of the dowry, the venue, the tenderness of the whispered words before young Daniel joined Terry at the altar.

He didn't want this for him.

Terry knows enough not to take it personally.

Anthony LaRusso probably wanted his son packed off somewhere safe and gated and warm, be it States or Europe, far from the blood money that would have paid for this security. Terry respects that.

It makes it all the sweeter.

LaRusso's name is well earned. He doesn't kill lightly, but when he does, it's never clean. Which is why, had this escalated in a full blown war, many of Terry's men would have died; Terry's not stupid enough to think that he somehow couldn't have met the wrong end of LaRusso's blade himself. But much of Don LaRusso's power lies in his decades long reputation as a peacekeeper. Full on warfare would have cost him much of his support, and even if he won – and probably far more important to the man – it would have cost him his children. Much of his strategy relied on the fact that few would have been crazy enough to risk it, but fuck, Terry likes risk, and so do his people, and the LaRusso Alphas are cut from the same cloth. It takes an Alpha with more to lose to consider this alternative.

And isn't the boy lovely.

There's more who have tried to send him omegas in an effort to defang him. He's returned them fucked out and he himself always ready to tackle business more feral than before. What makes him dangerous, and he knows this better than anyone, is his ability to store the madness until the opportune moment. Hone it, until it shoots lasers out of his eyes.

They say he is part Fae.

So no, he's not about to ravish the boy as he presses a kiss upon his now ringed hand. He enjoys too much how his nipples peak through the white and silver tinged sheer fabric of his shirt, how he can see the faintest outline of the chain on his belly, the jewels dripping to adorn his waist, his hips, his buttocks, the coy nest of hair over his well formed cock, for he is suprisingly well endowed in indeed every sense. Nothing else but a bit of gloss on those lips, the tiniest bit of liner on those demurely lowered eyes.

“Come here my sweet, let me warm you.”

He lifts his head a fraction. “Why do we have to do it today?”

Terry smiles. “Because I want to.”

He bites his lip. “But we have a whole honeymoon.”

Terry laughs. “Come here, little fawn, I don't like asking things twice. Neither did your father.”

He pulls back in response.

“Sit by me,” Terry says, and puts a little sharpness in his voice. “You have all day, and I've held you too, and I don't deserve this.”

He looks at him. “We did nothing to you.”

Terry blinks. The boy takes heart. “We did nothing, and still you threatened to kill us.”

Terry lifts his head. “Is that what I did?”

That pout is adorable. “Yes!”

“Sweetheart.” And now he simply pulls him into his lap, locks him in an arm grip when he struggles. “Sit still or I can't talk to you.”

The boy is more cuddly than he realises, a simple stroke along his thigh and he instinctively nuzzles in closer. “Now there's a good boy,” Terry murmurs. “And I think you're not half as angry with me as you are with him.”

He looks at him, but doesn't speak. “Danny boy,” Terry says warmly. “Is this the first of his promises he didn't get to keep?”

He sees him think. “Yeah. I guess.”

“Then you've been a very lucky boy, haven't you?”

He looks down. “He said I'd get to pick,” he says. “He said they'd get to take me places, and -”

“You wanted a bit more spoiling, did you?” he tickles his side.

“I wanted to be asked!”

“My, my, my,” Terry says. “He loves you very much.” He kisses his cheek. “You lucky thing.”

“Why couldn't you have left well enough alone?”

He pulls him tighter, so it's just this side of uncomfortable. “Daniel Silver,” he says. “We have promised to honor each other today, in the sight of God and the Holy Virgin. I saw it, I was there.”

He looks down. “Sorry.”

“Thank you. And the reason why I have chosen to expand my territory is the same reason why your father has chosen to expand his. To take care of our people.”

“You couldn't do that without my Pop?” he says, a little awe in his voice.

“He couldn't do that without me,” Terry says, again, a little sharply. “Maybe for a few years. But he saw the writing on the wall. Many of the other families don't, not yet, and with your Pop's help, that mistake will cost them.”

“So my puppies,” he says softly. “Will you train them? For the business?”

“If it's in their blood.” He takes his chin. “Look at me, Daniel. I will always take care of our family.”

Daniel looks away. “That's what Pop says. And then he does this.” His eyes fill with tears. “Treats me like a pawn.”

“If he has, he's brought you right to the other side of the board,” Terry whispers. He puts a hand on the boy's crotch. “And you know what happens to pawns there?”

The boy shakes his head, still tearful.

“They turn into queens,” Terry says. “And I will make you my queen, Danny boy, if you'll let me.”

It's the first time the boy looks at him with genuine interest.

Terry moves to stand up, then sits the boy back down on the bed, before kneeling down and taking his right hand.

“Will you be my queen, Danny, love?”

“Yes,” the boy says, a twinkle in his eye. “Yes, good Sir.”

“Then come here!” Terry grins, and sweeps him up once more.

When he puts him on the bed, the boy is laughing still.

[wanderlustphatty]

Boxers:: FWxFem!Reader

Summary: Fred and Lee opt for a night in with the reader, and choose some interesting attire.

Warnings: Implied steaminess, kisses. Mostly humorous.

Word count: 1584

Notes: I have no clue why I even did this. It started as a joke, but I could actually see this happening with Fred and Lee lol. I hope you all like it! Hopefully it gives you some serotonin.

Masterlist

"Fred, put your pants on!"

"No."

"Pants time!"

"No."

"Pants party!"

"NoOo."

A sigh escapes her lips as she stares at her husband gaming in his boxers and a t-shirt on the couch. Normally she wouldn't be this adamant, but Lee would be by soon and the three of them were supposed to go out to eat. After all, this whole plan was concocted by them and not her. So why not get dressed? It was normal for the stubborn twin to be fashionably late, but that never stopped her from trying to get him more organized. 

"Lee will be here shortly, love. You need pants," she tried to reason with him. Instead she's met with a smirk and a quick glance. "He's seen me naked before you. Boxers won't bother him." To this she rolls her eyes and turns to walk back into the kitchen. Again, defeat. What would make him budge?

Before she can finish her thought, there's a knock at the door and her husband chimes in telling whoever was outside to come in. Luckily it was Lee and not some stranger. Mentally she makes a note to keep the door locked just in case.

He pauses at the door for a moment, acknowledging that his friend still wasn't fully clothed, and then casually asks "So uh, we still going out tonight, or staying in?" His eyes dart to her and back to the lanky ginger. Yet again Fred answers, this time with his nose curled up slightly. "I was hoping the missus would let us have a relaxing night at home." 

She looks over at him, her gaze searing for a moment before being talked down to an exasperated agreement. "Fine," she says with the slight shake of her head and a small smile tugging at the edge of her lips. It wasn't like it was a date or anything, because he would never pass that up. "I'll order pizza, unless you two want something else." The both of them answer in near unison saying that's fine, and she turns to grab her phone. 

By the time she turns back around, she catches Lee discarding his pants at the door, just like he did his shoes, and heading on into the living room. He and Fred both are laughing as he picks up the second controller and makes himself at home. Neither of the two paused to think that hanging out in their underwear might seem a bit odd. Is this what they did in Gryffindor tower?

Apparently her stares and the lack of talking on the phone made her husband look up. "Everything ok, babe?" Lee turns around to look at you as well, but they both seem fairly oblivious to the awkwardness of the scene. Finally she manages to ask "You two comfortable?" Confusion knits across their brows before it finally dawns on them and they both burst into laughter again. "You got a few husbands when you married me, love. Lee's one of them. If you hurry up and order the pizza, you can run upstairs and put some boxers on too. It'll be a boxers party then." He winks and crimson dusts her cheeks. Again, both guys laugh.

Instead of replying, she simply turns to walk back in the kitchen. She grew up with all the boys, so it wasn't uncommon to see a shirtless George, have Lee stay a few days, and watch Ron wear the same shirt for two days. For some reason though, this was the first time any of his friends had shucked down to their boxers in her presence. In a way she felt honored because of how comfortable Lee felt, but at the same time, underwear is pretty intimate. 

With a sigh she shoves the awkwardness out of her mind and dials the number. Moments later she hangs up the phone, dinner on its way, and reluctantly walks up the steps to her shared bedroom. Fred's eyes watched her as she ascended to the next floor, a mischievous smile playing across his lips. Deep down he knew he could get her to do anything he wanted, including participating in a "boxers party", as he put it. Just as he watched her, she watched him as if to convey he owed her in some way for pushing her boundaries with his friends. As his smile spread and realization started to register within his brain, the controller in his hands vibrated, signaling a defeat of sorts. He quickly turns to Lee and both of them let out amused and defeated groans, but agreed to continue the game.

In her room she found a pair of boxers she had normally reserved for pajamas and slipped them on over her panties. She wasn't brave enough to wear them like the boys did, so the thin layer of fabric beneath them gave her a sense of protection and security. Her third husband by marriage had no business seeing any of her unmentionables if the underwear was less than conservative. As she gives herself another look in the mirror to make sure she looks good, she hears Lee cheer and Fred let out a loud, yet amused "NO", meaning Lee had won that round. 

Deciding not to drag her feet anymore, she heads back down the steps, catching her husband's eye as she rounded the bottom step to go into the living room. Brown eyes analyzed her figure from toe to head and his eyebrows peaked. His lower lip pulls between his teeth, making her blush slightly. Even when she's wearing pajamas, he was able to make her feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. Quickly she motions to the TV screen to remind him to focus, and just in time too - it was time for his character to jump. After successfully clearing that obstacle, he winks at her and nudges his head at the place next to him on the couch. Before she can make it there, though, the food arrives and she retrieves that before coming to take her place.

Both guys pause their game to eat and chitchat. Conversation was always easy with Lee, and there was never a dull moment when he was around either of the twins. No matter the situation, he was always happy to be there with his friends. Stuffy restaurants would never be either of their scenes, and she admits that part of her expected one of the guys to flake on going out. Truth be told, she was happy to be in comfortable clothes as well. 

As she half listens to the conversation about the Chudley Cannons, her thoughts and her bite of pizza are interrupted by a long finger trailing up the side of her thigh. Her eyes dart up to Fred and she's greeted with a mischievous smile. The finger trails back down and she feels the breath hitch in her chest. He absolutely had plans to make up for staying in. Quickly she looks at the other couch to see Lee more focused on where he's going to bite next on his slice of pizza, thankfully. She turns back to Fred and smiles before mouthing "behave". A pout forms on his lips and his brows knit in fake sadness before he mouths back "where's the fun in that?" This man.

"Do you think Egypt'll actually make it to the Quidditch World Cup this year?" Lee's question interrupts their moment, but the clever ginger doesn't miss a beat. "Y'kidding me? It's going to come down to Romania and Argentina. Egypt has played alright so far, but they nearly lost it to Chad, of all teams." Immediately the two are engrossed in a discussion about various teams, but the long finger that traced her thigh was replaced by a hand that pulled one of her legs up to his lap. His hands gently work at the muscles in her calf and gradually start to make their way farther toward her center. 

"What do you think, babe?" Her attention snaps up, meets her husband's, and she tries to speak, but her voice comes out hoarse and she has to clear it. His eyes seem to twinkle, knowing even that small gesture was enough to occupy her thoughts. "Excuse me. Sorry about that. I, uh, personally I'm thinking we'll see Transylvania and Scotland." Their gazes hold for a moment while Lee begins to explain why Scotland or Transylvania would be a better choice than Argentina. So it's not too obvious, though, the twin looks back at his friend and nods in agreement. 

Their night consisted of video games, quidditch talk, and a brief moment of dating advice for their friend. As always, their hang out session was fun, and Fred politely tried to get his friend to stay the night because they had lost track of time and it was after midnight before he started preparing for his departure. He declined as he hopped to pull on his pants, giving the excuse of having to work in the morning, and left when he got his shoes on. No sooner than the redhead latched the door, though, she knew it was on.

Quickly he turns and gives her a delicious grin before picking her up. Instinctually she wraps her legs around his waist and giggles. Hungry lips trail kisses from her jaw down and he nearly growls in her ear. "I've been waiting to do this all night." Chills scatter her skin and he carries her upstairs.

Masterlist

[bookofmirth]

ok so this might come off as a bit rambly so please bear with me lol

i've noticed that the acotar fandom has this incessant need to be right when it comes to canon and it really sucks out the funness of fandom. shipping is supposed to be fun but when it comes to this fandom, it's almost like a competition to see who will be more right when the books come out. engaging with theories/predictions about characters and the plot is supposed to be exciting but when it comes to this fandom, some of the theories/predictions are problematic at worst and nonsensical at best. like how can you say with your full chest that you're so confident about where the series is heading in the future because of this or that theory when you're stuck in the past and refuse to see what all of the text is telling you in the present. it doesn't make sense. the selective reading is so strong that it has me looking sideways sometimes lol

i guess my question is why do you think the fandom is so divided when it comes to ships right now? i've seen people say this wasn't the case for feysand and nessian, so what's the difference here?

Oh boy Brielle, I have some thoughts on this. It's complex.

To be clear, I am not saying that this applies to literally every single person who ships a certain way. This is a commentary on the fandom as a whole, and there are always exceptions.

This got really, really long, so I'm putting it under the cut.

I think that one of the main draws of this series, and of sjm's writing in general, is her ships. I think that people get very, very attached to their ships.

I also think that sjm does NOT fully think through some of the choices that she makes when writing. See: the way that she takes from all these different cultures and mashes them together, which could be seen as disrespectful of their origin. She has retconned things, like Mor being queer and Lucien being Helion's son. I think that she thoroughly thinks about some of the aspects of her books, like Rhys's reaction to sleeping with Feyre for the first time, but then really half-asses other aspects of her books, like Mor coming out.

Then, we have your good old misogyny and homophobia - people in the fandom don't like Mor because she hurt the poor bat boy's feelings when she didn't sleep with him, and they don't have a mating bond, but she's never really told Azriel "no", and so every single moment of pain that Azriel has felt in 500 years is Morrigan's fault. And Mor's experience as a closeted queer woman who feels unsafe around the people she should trust the most is completely disregarded by the fandom.

Finally, I think that a combination of these factors has created the monster we know as e*riel, and that the fandom is perpetuating its own mythology.

What all of this comes down to, and the real reason I think that the fandom is behaving this way right now, is that e*riel is dead. It's never happened, it's not going to happen, but because we don't have the clear closure we got with moriel (where people would be accused of homophobia for continuing to ship it), people are still trying to figure out any possible way for e*riel to become canon, though every single sign points to it being a non-issue.

This weird thing where people have to be "right" all the time, and the way that "right" = "canon" is a relatively new development. It's as if everyone in this fandom forgot that they are in fact in a fandom, which inherently diverges from canon.

However, I think that the need to cling to canon is because the alternative would be to admit defeat and say "well, even if it doesn't happen I will still ship e*riel, it's fine, I will live with that." But they don't want to do that. In response, they look at canon so hard that they are reading the white space between the letters to create their theories, which as you noted as largely nonsensical and often fail to take into account who the characters are as individuals, how they are connected to other characters, and why it would or wouldn't be appropriate for them to be involved in various plots.

People could say, as eluciens having been saying since day one, "I really ship this thing but I can see that it might not become canon". But they don't say that. They literally refuse to see any other possibility than e*riel becoming canon.

You pointed out that people are stuck in the past - absolutely. The number of reimaginings I have seen of scenes where either Azriel or Elain has literally zero to do with the scene, but people try to shove one or both of them in there. And this from books ago. People are stuck on the Truthteller scene, and refuse to acknowledge that neither of them have acted on their feelings, whatever those might be, for years. And they ignore the fact that once Elain and Az do act, it goes horribly wrong.

Here are the facts as of right now:

ACOSF is the most recent book. In that book, sans extra chapter, those two had no interaction other than looking at one another.

If we include his POV, then he said it was wrong, we got confirmation that nothing has ever happened between them, she returned his necklace. Elain was aroused, but that does not mean she was ready to even have sex. "Yes" to a kiss is not "yes" to every single sexual act Az can think of. They parted on awkward, bad terms after a scene in which it seemed like they were about to start something. Yikes. Unlike Wings and Embers, they did not end that chapter still thinking of one another. After they part ways, the omniscient narrator does not mention Elain, or Az thinking about Elain, again.

His POV occurs months before the end of the book. They do not interact after that.

Elain has a mate she has not rejected, nor accepted.

So anyway, your question was why are people like this. lol. I think the fandom created a monster, and that monster is clinging to life. It can't accept the idea of morphing into a non-canon ship, though it never was canon in the first place. It had just convinced itself that it was.

There are other aspects to this, that have to do with gwynriel and elucien.

Gwynriel is a new ship, it's almost guaranteed to happen, people are super excited to ship it and give Gwyn all their love. I'm sure they would rather create content for that ship than argue about whether or not it's going to be canon, but they are in constant defense mode. Some people honestly didn't like e*riel before because they don't like Elain, or because they don't like Azriel, and those are valid reasons for not liking it. Why people ship gwynriel doesn't matter. The tone of the discussion is, unfortunately, being shaped elsewhere, which I will mention below.

Elucien is an old ship, older than e*riel. I can speak from this perspective - personally, I have been holding my tongue for 4.5 years. I have been letting people live, and just talking about the things I like. Then when acosf came out, it was like I could finally say all the things I had been thinking about Azriel, because I now had proof that the things I thought about his character (and because of that, about e*riel) now had solid canon foundation. This is 4.5 years of me holding in a lot of shit and finally being able to say it. Sometimes yes, I might take joy in having been right.

I think that a few people are clinging to canon, and that sets the tone for the discourse in the fandom. Someone says "according to page whatever, blah blah blah" and people feel the need to respond, and then it turns into and "I'm right" contest instead of... a fandom... A lot of us like debating. To me, it's fun. But when Person A starts a conversation that's about canon and it actually ignores canon, it's hard to let that conversation go by and just keep creating whatever we want to create. Instead, we respond, and so the tone of the conversation is shaped by what Person A decided to say.

I also think that there is a lack of distinction between theories (what will happen in the future) and meta (analysis of what we have now).

There is also a lack of "I" statements. Opinions are being stated as fact.

idk if there is a way to make it better, other than to just go back to ignoring one another. This whole situation makes me want to throw out every single canon ship I like and create exclusively non-canon content, just for spite. Except I really like doing meta, and so I don't want to. I guess for my point, I'll just keep doing meta, keep creating different content, and keep reminding people that they aren't here to continue perpetuating canon, but to play with it.

[peterrparrkerr]

Gaslighting - read on ao3

Tagging: @snowstark @someonepostedart @thegreenmetblue @sinditia @just-things-things @andacheesyoneliner @lokitonypeter @bluestarker @lilcoffeecup @useless-fanfictions-for-mcu @tnpt

Peter isn't spiderman in this fic, but Tony is Ironman.

*-*

"Tony?" Peter calls, walking down the stairs and into the lab.

"Yes, baby?" Tony answers, lifting his head up from his project to smile at the boy.

"Dinner's ready," he said softly. "I tried to call you earlier but you must've been busy."

Tony steps away from the work bench and pulls Peter towards the stairs again when he saw the curious glint in the boy's eyes.

"I was, I'm sorry, baby. What are we having?"

Peter's Bambi brown eyes flicker up to Tony's, the question momentarily side tracking him from voicing his questions on what Tony was working on.

Peter wouldn't approve, Tony knew. Best to keep him out of it for as long as possible.

"Uh, chicken alfredo, with broccoli and garlic bread," Peter said, leaning into Tony as they both took the stairs up to the main floor.

"Sounds wonderful," Tony smirked, pressing a kiss to Peter's temple before sitting him, then himself at the already set table.

*-*

"What are you working on?" Peter asked, padding over on bare feet. A yawn pulls his mouth open as he rubs at his half lidded eyes.

"Nothing important, baby," Tony hums, closing the lid on the small sample.

"If it wasn't important you'd be in bed with me," Peter pouted. Tony chuckles and steps over to him, making sure -again- that Peter won't get too close.

"You're right," Tony nodded, wrapping his arms around the younger man and kissing his pouty lips. "Lets go to bed, hmm?"

Peter nods sleepily and allows Tony to walk him back up the stairs.

He waits until Peter's fast asleep before returning to the lab. Hes so close to finishing, he can get it done tonight if he focuses.

*-*

"Tony, please, harder," Peter cries, back arching, exposing his neck. Tony snaps his hips in harder, giving the boy just what he's wanted.

Ever since the test, Tony's gotten more energy. He's gotten stronger. Its made their sex all the better.

His next round of shots is in a day. He can feel his whole body changing on a molecular level.

He's more connected with the endo-sym than he ever thought possible.

Peter cums on a wail, and Tony's not far behind, burying himself to the hilt as he fills Peter up.

The two lay beside each other, panting and sweaty.

"What happened to your eyes?" Peter asked softly, turning his head to look at Tony.

"What do you mean, baby?"

"They, flashed," Peter tried, stilted with an effort to find the right word. "I swear for a second they turned blue."

Tony lets out a huff of laughter, turning his head to look back at the boy.

"Must've been a trick of the light," he mused, pulling Peter close, even as the younger scowled in confusion.

"Are you sure?" He asked, lithe form pressed against Tony's more athletic build. If Tony wanted to, he was sure he'd be able to snap the boy in half with his bare hands.

Instead, he nuzzled against Peter's jaw, kissing his skin.

"I've never seen the light do that before."

"Theres nothing wrong with my eyes, baby."

*-*

"What is that?" Peter asked, eyes wide. Tony glances up, inwardly cursing. He didnt realize the boy had made his way down into the lab.

"Its something new," Tony said, deciding it best not to avoid it any longer. The boy was already getting too curious. If Tony didn't give him something, Peter would either leave, or find out for himself.

Tony reaches for Peter and the boy walks into his hold, letting Tony pull him in close and wrap his arms around him.

"Its called endo-sym," Tony hummed. "Its an armor."

"For the ironman?" Peter asked, brown eyes shining with the shifting reflective silver.

Its in a small chamber, vacuum sealed shut so it doesn't get out. Tony's got a problem linking with it still, and doesn't want so many months of hard work going down the drain if the thing decides to leave.

"For something better," Tony said softly. Peter frowned and glanced up at him, pouting slightly.

"What is it?" He asked. "What does it do?"

The endo-sym jumps at the rim of the chamber before falling back down like the waves of a storm. Angry and restless.

"It works like the nanotech from my last suit," Tony lied. "This is just- a smoother version."

"It looks alive," Peter said softly, leaning closer to see through the clear lid. The endo-sym jumped up, sensing a human close by, and Peter jumped back, right into Tony's chest.

"Its not," Tony lied. Peter doesn't look like he believes him, but Tony's not worried about it. He just needs the boy ignorant for a little while longer.

*-*

Tony's expecting the boy to freak out. Expecting it and already ready to explain. The endo-sym is nearly finished. The last injection of Extremis taken the night before, and Tony's eyes are bright blue.

Theres no hiding them from the boy. He wakes up first and makes his way down to the kitchen, making coffee and heating up some leftovers for breakfast.

Peter pads into the room a short time after Tony's second cup of coffee, wearing his tshirt and nothing else, curls a mess on top of his head.

"Good morning," Tony hummed. Peter's too sleepy to pick up on the change as he accepts Tony's coffee.

He barely looks at Tony as he brings the half mug of coffee to his lips and takes a sip.

Tony leans against the counter, waiting for the inevitable. It happens when Peter lowers his mug and finally looks up at him.

He gasped, eyes widening and promptly dropped the mug of coffee.

Neither of them were fast enough to catch it and it shatters on the tile floor, spilling the still hot coffee over his bare feet.

"Tony!" He exclaims. Tony steps towards the boy, glass cracking under his shoes, and he quickly lifts Peter off his feet by his underarms.

"Stay here," Tony orders after setting the boy onto the counter.

"Tony, your eyes are blue!" Peter exclaimed, as Tony crouched down to pick up the glass from the floor.

"They're contacts," Tony hummed, dropping a handful into the trash can before picking up the smaller pieces.

"Those aren't contacts," Peter scoffed. "How did this happen- what caused it-"

"Stay," Tony ordered, glaring up at the boy when Peter moved to jump down again.

The blue eyes really must be shocking, because Peter stills, eyes still wide and breath hitching.

"Tony, please," he says softly, tears beginning to well in those pretty brown eyes. "You have to tell me."

Tony doesn't say anything, just dumps another palmful of glass into the trash before standing and grabbing the paper towel.

"Please," Peter continued, voice wavering. "You've been lying to me for months. You- you're hiding things from me and- and I can't-"

A wet sob cuts Peter off, and Tony looks up from soaking up the coffee spill to see the boy with his hands over his eyes, scrubbing away the flow of tears as he tries to calm himself down.

Tony sighs and stands up, stepping between Peter's knees and grabbing his chin.

He tilts it up, forcing Peter to uncover his face, which is growing splotchy with his tears. His breath hitches on his inhales, and Tony leans in to kiss him softly on pouty lips.

"Do you trust me, baby?" Tony asked, making sure Peter looks him in the eyes.

The boy sniffles and nods, lower lip trembling and body sagging towards the older.

"Then trust that me keeping things from you does not lessen my love for you," Tony said.

"But-"

"No buts," Tony interrupted, wiping the tears from the boy's cheeks. "You don't need to know everything I do, sweetheart. You'll know when I want you to know."

And with that, he crouches down again and continues to soak up the last of the coffee spill.

Above him, Peter continues to cry, face hidden in his arms to muffle the tears and sniffles. He doesn't move though, which is all Tony cares about.

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

COSMIC - S3:E4; Chapter Four, The Sauna Test - [Pt. 1]

A Will Byers x Reader Series

𝘔𝘪𝘬𝘦, 𝘓𝘶𝘤𝘢𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘞𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘪𝘵 𝘌𝘭, 𝘔𝘢𝘹 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘠/𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘔𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘍𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘦𝘳'𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘙𝘰𝘣𝘪𝘯, 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘋𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘓𝘺𝘯𝘹.

📝: Thank you guys so much for being patient, I really didn't expect an update till after I had finished moving but your excitement and comments from this preview alone inspired me and I found moments here and there it got me on a roll so thank youu!!

⚠️: anxiety attack, kidnapping and nightmare sequence featuring the following; strangulation, kidnapping, possible claustrophobia triggers(??)/imprisonment [skip markers for all, one for anxiety the second for kidnapping and dream sequence] and finally, not a warning but I feel like I need to make this not so depressing but SO MUCH GAY FLUFF YALL 🌈🌈🌈

||𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐕||

Another bolt of lightning flashed across the sky, and a sudden bright light filled the bathroom.

After leaving Heather's house, the three of us had decided to crash at Max's. Neither of us really wanted to be alone after everything happened today, so one quick call to my mom and a note at the cabin and here we are.

I stood before the bathroom mirror with slightly sunken eyes and the tap running on cold as I brushed my teeth mindlessly. The clothes Max had found that would fit me felt snug and warm, just out of the dryer and they smelled like her. It was a welcome change to my drenched clothes now in the wash.

The thunder was mostly muted from inside but not altogether, and I could hear the muffled voices of Max and El from down the hall as I brush my teeth. I try to focus on the gentle pitter-patter of rain on Max's roof and the calm lull it brought to the atmosphere but it was of little help. I could still hear Billy's voice clear as day,

"What a pleasure it is to meet you El. And of course, who could possibly forget..."

《•••》

I watched as Billy slowly wrenched his head towards mine, his hollow gaze falling over me.

•••

I step out onto the porch, slipping the hood back over my head when I feel it again.

•••

She winced as she whipped around to face him, his sunken, darkened eyes widening as they pierced her own.

•••

The sound of my name on his tongue made my skin crawl, his voice all the way in the back of his throat.

《•••》

You

[■■■■■■■■Anxiety Trigger■■■■■■■■]

Another clap of thunder explodes in the distance and I drop my toothbrush, gripping the edge of the counter. Swallowing deep gulps of air, I try to remember the breathing technique Joyce told me about.

Breath in for four.

I draw in a slow deep breaths, letting my eyes flutter closed.

Hold for seven.

As I count the seconds, I follow her instructions and try to focus on my other senses to ground me. I first notice the water running in the sink and the pitter-patter of rain on the roof. The smell of coconut from the hand soap. And even the warm feel of the clothes from the dryer.

Breath out for eight.

I release the built-up air in my lungs in a steady puff but I don't feel my grip on the counter loosen any. The chill is still in my bones, and I can still feel his eyes on me.

Breath in.

The cold, hollowness in his eyes.

Hold.

The blood all over this very bathroom, and El's frightened cries on the floors of the locker room.

I double over the counter, releasing the air tightening my lungs before I can even get to five. I sigh, steadying my breathing and regaining any I had lost as I stare nose-first into the running water disappearing down the drain. I feel hot tears stinging my eyes as the panic builds and I curse under my breath.

I haven't had an attack in so long.

[■■■■■■■■Over■■■■■■■■]

Sighing again, I cup my palms under the water and splash it over my face, fighting a wince when the hot water burns my face.

I wipe away the beads of water dripping over my cheeks and brow, feeling as the air turns it instantly to cool and that's when I frown.

Wait.

Quickly, I swipe the excess water off my eyes and look down at the tap.

It was all the way on cold, as it was when I first turned it on.

I look back at my hands, noting their usual s/c shade. No hint of light or heat in sight. I look back in the mirror, searching my eyes and lips for hints of my usual strain but I find nothing.

My eyes drop back to the running tap, my face written with confusion and head cocked as I watch steam pour out from the stream of running water. I test the metal spout pouring out water and sure enough, the metal is already warming confirming my suspicions.

A sudden familiar voice spoke out from the other side of the closed door, but it wasn't enough to pry my frown away from the running water.

"Y/n?"

It was Max.

"You alright in there?"

My heart was still beating sporadically and my skin was flushing familiarly but I tried to remind myself where I was. That I was safe. And clearly, the Mayfields needed to have their plumbing checked since their heating was flipped.

The thought was enough to expel a sharp breath of relief, and I seemed to snap back to reality. Mostly.

I switched off the water, the cold water tap squeaking as I did so. Quiet returned to the room, and I shook out my hands in the sink and cleared my throat.

"Yeah, I'll be right out," I say, wincing at the waver in my voice.

I picked up the dropped toothbrush and shook out the droplets, finally deciding to tuck it away on the counter where I could deal with it later. Thankfully, it hadn't actually been mine but a spare they had among a pack of unopened toothbrushes.

I look back at my reflection, drying the remaining water off my face with a towel, and sigh.

Clearly, it had been a stressful night and things were starting to get to me. That's all. I don't know what's up with Billy, but something's definitely wrong. I know I'm not wrong either if El can feel it too.

Breath in.

I double-check the counter, checking I have everything. The image pushes itself into my head again, and I wince but I don't stop my breathing exercise.

Hold.

"And of course, who could forget..."

Y/n counted each painful second as she held the air captive in her lungs, trying with everything in her to focus on her breathing over the hollow voice of Billy Hargrove echoing in her mind. As she did so, she turned and made her way for the bathroom door, unknowingly leaving behind the still undrained ice bath that was now beginning to boil.

"You."

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"Which one?" Max asks with an adorable grin.

"I don't know," El mumbled weakly with a shrug. She peered up at me as I returned to my spot in between them on the floor. "What do you think?"

I settle myself under Max's comforter and into her rainbow sheets on our makeshift nest on the floor. As I readjusted myself on the pillow, I shrugged half-heartedly, not really trying my best to act totally present.

Max sits up, growing serious, and grabs both our gazes.

"Hey," she says, her voice soft. "there's nothing to worry about anymore, okay?"

The fake smile fell off my face and my eyes fell to my hands. They were wringing together in my lap. El's eyes flickered to me, her face dropping a little as if she recognized my state and spoke up.

"It doesn't make sense,"

"What doesn't make sense?" Max asks.

"What does?" I say under my breath, wringing my hands tighter.

"Heather," El continued. "The blood. The ice."

"Heather had a fever, so she took a cold bath, but she's better now. That has to be it," Max says, sounding almost as if she's trying to convince herself as well. "I don't know where that blood came from, but... we saw her."

She looks between me and El, trying to look as reassuring as possible.

"We all saw her. She's totally fine."

El didn't seem to buy it any more than I did.

"What about Billy?"

"What about him?"

"He seemed... wrong." She says and I nod.

Max gave a weak chuckle. "Wrong is kind of like his default. But it's nice to know he's not a murder, because that would've totally sucked."

I finally break my silence with an involuntary scoff. My next words come tumbling out without me thinking.

"Yeah, especially on top of everything else,"

Max replicates my scoff and I look at her almost desperately.

"Okay, but you get what I'm saying, right? I've met him and he does not act like that Max," my voice lowers a bit from its almost defensive pitch. "I don't think I need to remind you what he did to Lucas, or you, or how he treats me. I may not know him like you, but he's never that polite, even to people he likes, and I know you know it too,"

Max just stares for half a moment, not saying or doing anything but biting her lip. Finally, she sighs at her lap, pensively.

"I get what you're saying," she says, looking between El and me again. "Both of you. He was being totally weird, I'll give you that. I just really think we need to be careful about this." She shrugs. "For all we know, he was probably trying to impress the Holloways."

She makes suggestive eyes with a disgusted, uncomfortable laugh as she elbowed me. "Maybe he really wants to get closer to Heather,"

I laugh, making a face.

"Oh, barf,"

A small smile finds its way onto El's lips and she reluctantly joins into our laughter with a frown. "What?"

"You don't want to know," I chuckle, burying myself further under the sheets.

El seemed satisfied enough with my answer and followed my lead. She shivered a little on my right, as Max got settled back in on my left. I looked over at El when I felt her shifting around. She was snuggling closer, and her arms wrapped around my left like a koala bear, her eyes threatening to close. I watched her with a small flutter in my stomach as she nuzzled her head into my shoulder and gave a content sigh. "Warm," I heard her mumble.

I didn't dare move, other than grinning down at her and tucking my head on hers as we both looked over at Max and the pile of comics she had.

Not letting go of my arm, El sat her head up a little and pointed to the only cover with Wonder Woman on it with a curious look in her eye.

"Who... is that?"

Max and I both perk up as she grabs the comic.

"See, this is why you can't just hang out with Mike all the time." She explains. "This is Wonder Woman. A.K.A. Princess Diana,"

The three of us simultaneously lean back against our propped-up pillows on the wall, snuggling into one another. I take hold of the comic for Max, turning to page one as Max and I begin pointing out different pictures on the page.

"She's from Paradise Island, which is, like, this hidden island there are only women Amazon warriors."

El smiles and I point to her lasso of truth.

"Yeah, and she's devoted to bringing good to the world, like most superheroes. She even has this lasso - which is kind of a long rope tied in a circle - that helps her fight crime, and it can even make people tell the truth..."

"It's super cool," Max jumps in.

That flutter grows as I watch El point out different things on the page with a smile that only grew the more she learned. Or the more Max would light up with another Wonder Woman fact. And minute by minute, as the night crept on just like this, the more I forgot about the horrifying questions of today and more on my best friends beside me.

I was safe.

For now.

[■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■]

When Tom Holloway awoke, he immediately knew something was wrong.

His hands were bound behind his back, some sort of cloth was wrapped around his head and stuffed in his mouth as a gag and he felt nauseous. Never mind the fact his head was throbbing and bleeding, and he was somewhere dark, cold, and unknown.

That's when he remembered.

Heather.

The girls in his living room had just left, his wife Janet was acting strange and... she was drugged. And it had been his Heather. His little baby Heather and that boy.

He had to get out, he had to find them. He had to get to his family.

He fights with a grunt against the restraints around his wrists. He winces as the rope stings his burns his skin and as he squirms he gets a better feel for what he's tied to. It's some sort of pipe.

And yet he's so focused on his escape and finding his family, he doesn't realize his wife is by his side.

Her muffled, horrified shrieks as she comes to.

"Tom!"

He lets out a sob when he sees her, in his voice a jumbled mixture of relief and sorrow. She looked no better than he felt, and steady tears streaked down her cheeks with mascara.

A pair of footsteps grab their attention to two figures approaching from the shadows. The very same people to have brought them here.

Heather and Billy.

Tom lets out another involuntary whimper as his daughter approaches him, a blank faraway look in her eyes.

"Hi, Daddy,"

He watches tearfully as she kneels down to his height, and removes the bounds from his mouth.

"Heather..." he gasps, swallowing fearful tears and the lump in his throat. He throws one cautious glare over her shoulder at the young man before softening again at his daughter. "Sweetie... whatever this is, whatever he's got you into, you don't have to do this. You can stop this."

"There is no stopping it, Daddy," she says in an unusually cold voice. "You'll see."

With the ghost of a smile, she cups his tear-stained cheek and he cries again.

"No," he silently begs.

But she's already on her feet, returning to Billy's side as he approaches Janet as Heather had Tom.

Her whimpers grow more frantic as he reaches for her, and before she knows it she's wriggling free from the cloth gag he removes from her mouth. She wastes no time in crying out to her baby girl.

"Heather, please! Heather!"

The words died out into a fearful whisper when Billy's finger pushes against her lips, silencing her. She feels her whole body tremoring as he leans in close, his voice that same gravely tone he let slip earlier that night.

"Try not to move."

They fear the worst only to watch confused as he rises to his feet and retreats up the steps with their daughter.

"No," Janet mumbles tearfully after them. "No!"

"Heather!" Tom cries, fighting hard against the restraints no matter how hard they hurt. "Heather!"

Something in the dark abyss of shadows stole their attention. Something Tom almost misses at first It was a most unusual sound. Something low and otherworldly... almost like a growl reverberating off of tin.

They watched with widened, bloodshot eyes as they try to make out the great beast emerging from the shadows.

"Jesus Christ,"

It's all Tom can bring himself to say, his voice in a trembling whisper.

What marched out from the shadows on its six, wobbling legs was something else entirely. A monster, he was not sure he was seeing. A demon he was not ready to face. A horror, he could not possibly fathom.

The Mind Flayer.

He had evolved past his shadowy form, yet he always lurked in darkness. He was darkness. His features remained spider-like, six long legs as tall as the ceiling it was now scraping, branching out into smaller tendrils like one grotesque, haunched tree.

But the worst part of all - the sickening detail that revealed itself as it grew closer.

The Mind Flayer was made entirely out of flesh and bone.

Tom's cries for help were stolen right out of his mouth when he felt the first touch of the monster.

Tom couldn't register much through all the fear. He felt the cold, slimy grasp swallow up his face just as surely as beard his wife's horrified shrieks. He tried to scream, tried to breathe but any and every effort in doing so brought with it more icy sludge entering his system from the source. It was like swallowing sand as he drowned, gasping in large gulps of seawater that slowly filled his lungs.

Only worse. Tom was alive to feel it. To live through it, to breath through it.

All Tom Holloway could do was peer up at the snarling monster from his one uncovered eye as he feels the icy darkness envelop him completely.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"What on earth are you doing here?" He asks. "Is something wrong?"

"We just... wanted to make sure everything was okay," Max stammered, just as confused as her friends.

A look of concern flashed over Billy's face as he inched closer. "Okay? Why wouldn't it be okay?"

"You know damn well why," I grumble, my gut lurching at my sudden bravery but Billy doesn't seem to notice.

In fact, no one did. I look at Max and El, but they haven't even flinched, neither have the man or the woman sitting in the dining room.

I looked to my left at El expectantly, as if I know she's going to speak. As if I've lived this moment before.

I'm relieved to see she doesn't seem to buy into Billy's act either.

"Where is she?" El all but growls.

I shifted on my feet, barely noticing the familiar tug of those words in the back of my head. But what would Billy say?

His eyes snap to El, and she could have sworn she almost saw that mask break.

"I'm sorry," he said slowly. "Where is who?"

"Well, they're a little burnt, I'm sorry,"

All eyes turn to the chipper young girl striding in with a tray of cookies in her hands and a lingering smile on her face.

"Heather," I gasp, feeling a wave of relief and fear all at once.

The only troubling thing about her was the crisp cinnamon cookies in her hands. She had trailed off upon noticing the three young visitors.

"Heather!" Billy smiles, welcoming her as if she was an old friend.

I just felt like I'm seeing a ghost.

"This is my sister, Maxine," Billy chirps, turning back to the three confused girls. "And I'm sorry," he says to El, with an almost edge to his voice. "I did not quite catch your name."

I inch closer to her, my shoulder wedging over hers in a protective stance but that felt useless.

With a determined look in her eyes, she matches his steely gaze.

"El."

I grimace as Billy forces a smile. It was chilling. Truly haunting. But he was still angry, I could tell.

In fact, he was livid. Why was he so livid? What had El done?

"El." He hums. "What a pleasure it is to meet you El. And of course, who could possibly forget..."

His eyes lurched to mine and I felt my stomach drop, maybe as fast as the temperature in the whole house. Like I was plunged into ice.

I wanted to move, I tried to run but I couldn't. My legs were rooted to the spot like they were when it really happened.

And then...

His voice was a growl that grew in the back of his throat, his lips curling back in a snarl as he bared his teeth.

"You."

His hand was around my throat and my feet left the ground. I tried crying for help but my voice was gone, leaving me no choice but to claw at Billy's arms as I fought for breath. My legs were finally moving again, kicking and squirming as I tried to reach him or even the ground but they never did, no matter how close.

I had to fight to look at El and Max but they were gone, as were the Holloways. Fading away like smoke.

"Let me go!" I somehow cry. "Let me go, now!"

He blinks at me, his face a clean slate. Nothing in his features, he's almost like a projection.

My feet return to the floor and tears flood my cheeks. But I'm not free, not any more than he had listened.

He started off down the hall, where we first came from, my throat still in his grip. I was dragging along the floor, my feet kicking and shoes grabbing the wood linoleum for traction but the hall just kept getting longer.

I was crying heavily, pleading with him to let me go. I tried and tried with all my might to hurt him, but no matter what I threw at him he just kept dragging me down the hall.

He took a left and I watched behind us, still fighting as the walls gradually changed from olive-green to grey.

I sent another long, hot burst of air up at him but he didn't flinch.

The grey paint turned to white.

I clawed and scraped and melted his skin, or at least I tried to but his grip never loosened.

The white painted walls turned to a white brick.

I got more frantic, kicking and even harder and screaming at the top of my lungs, embracing the hurt. The walls shook and cracked but Billy kept walking, dragging me along.

The white brick turned to white tile as we made another turn.

"No! No! NO!"

Billy looked down at me for the first time since he grabbed me. There was a haunted, almost painted-on smile on his face as he peered down. The large fluorescent lights above our heads tinged a sickly green, hurting my eyes almost as bad as the pad of my feet trying to grip the linoleum floors.

"But you belong here."

"NO! LET ME GO! LET ME GO!"

I continue to wail and kick and scream, even as we come to a slow. He yanks me to my feet, and I hear a dreadful click of a lock that makes me shudder.

"No," I sob. "I can't. I don't... I don't want to be here,"

Billy looks deep into my eyes, feeling like a whole other person entirely. A third person, more specifically.

Not only that, he sounds horrifically familiar.

He pushes something over my shoulder and I hear the creak of a door. And before I can protest, my body is thrown into an all brick white room as the voice continues I believe to be Billy but I realize is an all too familiar doctor.

"You don't mean that, my dearest Nine," I hear his withering voice echoing all around me as I catch my breath on all fours where I had fallen. "I know you don't want to upset your Papa,"

Tears fall from my cheeks, my rage and fear building as I prepare to throw everything I have at him. No matter what it costs.

With heaving breaths I push myself off the cold tile floors and turn to the door I was just thrown through. But all I'm met with is the same white walls. There's no door, no way out. And no one else around.

I'm all alone.

It's then I remember, I've been here before. I'm brought here often. Somewhere in the back of my head I finally register this is a nightmare but I'm too deep inside to pull myself out. Instead, in a plight of anger, I throw my fists in the wall repeatedly as I cry out in anguish until I have no breath left.

My eyes snap to my arm when I feel an excruciating pain concentrated onto my left inner wrist. I choke on another sob as I stare at the three black numbers tattooed into my skin.

𝟶𝟶𝟿

Growing more frantic, I pace the walls as my tears return, running my hands along the wall for any sort of false door or hatch until my nerve ending in my hands are shot and numb.

I collapse into the corner, hugging my chest and the white, spotted lab gown over my body.

Everything's building in me, heat sizzling off my shoulders and melting the wall and for a moment I think I found my way out. I can melt the walls, break them down but I try and try and-

[■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■]

||𝟑𝐑𝐃 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐎𝐕||

"Y/N!"

The girl shot awake, kicking off the sheets that clung to her sweating skin, and gulped down desperate breaths of air. Max and El jumped when she did, but it Y/n moments to realize they were sitting opposite her. Farther away.

Realizing what had happened, she doubled over and threw her face in her hands with an exasperated sigh.

"Shit..." she mumbles, rubbing at the sleepiness in her eyes. "Guys, I'm sorry. I should have warned you. I've been having really bad nightmares lately and... guys?"

Y/n had to really look to see them, more specifically the looks on their faces. Hardly any light was streaming in through the windows, the sky a light and bright cobalt. But it was enough to barely accentuate the worried frown on El's face and the painful wince Max wore as she clutched her forearm and the thin layer of sweat coating their skin.

"What-? What happened?" She croaked, looking to Max. "Are you okay?"

Max shot you a quick, forced smile as she still clutched her arm.

"I'm fine, but... are you?"

Her stomach dropped and turned all at once, her mouth falling into a gasp as she brought her hands in towards herself and away from her friends.

"Did I... did I do that to you?"

She shook her head quickly, trying to examine her arm in the dark and that's when Y/n barely makes it out: a spot on her paled skin was almost the size of a coaster; dark and festering.

"Oh, my god, I didn't mean- I am so sorry, I-" Y/n's mouth remained open but the words kept getting stuck in her throat.

Finally, she jumped to her feet and kicked off the sheets still sticking to her legs, and made her way to the door.

"Oh, my god. Oh, my god. Oh, my god. Oh, my god. Oh, my god. Oh, my god. Oh, my god. Oh, my god. Oh, my god,"

El and Max watched as she began speedwalking out into the hall and heading for the linen closet, her voice trailing off with her in a familiar Henderson fashion. They knew they would be unable to stop her, especially in this condition.

Instead, they looked to one another, silently sharing their worry at what had just transpired.

El had stirred from the sudden and intense heat that took over Max's room, her plastic water bottle now nearly half empty and filled with condensation. And Max had awoken not from the heat but the sudden, subtle tremors shaking the house and the small glow that was peaking through her eyelids.

When she had cracked her eyes open, she had seen Y/n on the neighboring pillow, a pained look on her tinted face. Hints of her veins were cropping up on the edge of her lips and she had then felt the light kicks of her friend. She had pulled herself up, rubbing at her eyes and that's when she noticed how much she had been sweating.

The room was still in a steady rumble and El was already awake.

"What's going on?" El had whispered from across their friend.

"I don't know, I think..." Max peered down at Y/n with a pitiful look. "I think she's having a nightmare. I think she's mentioned those lately."

"What do we do?"

Max shrugged, jumping slightly when the rumble had grown loud enough for concern.

"Well, we gotta wake her," Max had said, anxiously.

Y/n's kicking had returned and soft whimpers were escaping her lips and Max felt something tug on her heart.

She reached forward, only for a hand to grab around her forearm.

Max looked down at El's hand then at El with a confused frown.

"What?"

El shoots an unsure look between her and Y/n, her face written with unease.

"Try another way," she whispers.

"I'm not sure what else to do," Max says with a shrug. "Do you?"

El frowned again, finally shaking her head in defeat. Whimpering cries grew louder and they looked to Y/n who was freely crying. And looking less than compliant, and against her better judgment, El let's go.

Max wasn't naive. She knew the likely dangers of waking her friend but she didn't want her to suffer. So instead, she bunched up the blankets over her hand and began to softly shake her.

"Y/n..."

No response. She just continued to cry, and Max had continued to shake the more she grew worried. Before she knew it, Y/n had thrown herself on her back, her hands grabbing for Max's.

Y/n kept tossing, speaking in a clear voice. "Let me go."

Max felt the intense flare of heat in her arm and she yanked it back, scrambling backward as she hissed an impressive string of curses. El had jumped, looking desperately to Max as they both felt the air grow increasingly hotter.

She watched wide-eyed as she clutched her arm, and it hadn't been until El intervened they finally got her awake.

El returned her eyes to the lesion on Max's arm and her face grows soft.

"Really okay?"

Max nodded. "Yeah. I'll be fine."

On cue, Y/n had returned from the hall with a wet washcloth, aloe vera, and a thin bandage.

"Again, Max, I am so so sorry,"

"It's fine, really. I know you didn't do it on purpose," she winced again when it stings. "Can't say it feels great, though,"

"Here,"

Y/n flipped on the light on Max's bedside and returned to her friends' side with the supplies.

"I hadn't realized how bad it's been getting lately," Y/n explains as she begins tending to Max. "My dreams I mean, and all this,"

She looks between El and Max with a weak wince before giving Max a warning look. The redhead nods and Y/n places the washcloth onto the wound and Max hisses. It was barely colder than room temperature but that helped.

"Sorry, sorry, I know," Y/n says. Thinking twice, she hands it off to Max with a guilty smile. "Probably better you hold onto that,"

Max nodded and took the washcloth in hand as Y/n prepared the aloe vera.

"What happened?" El asked suddenly.

Y/n looked curiously at El before she realized she was asking about her dream. Her stomach dropped again, and she fought the urge to touch her throat.

"Just some freaky, memories and... well, not memories I guess. It's hard to explain."

"You can tell us," El said, touching her arm as she remembered the words Y/n had spoken to her so long ago that she had always cherished. "If you need anything... at all... we're here."

A grateful smile broke out on her face as she looked at her best friends. "Thank you."

Returning to the twist cap, she pours out a quarter-size drop of the green sludge and Max peels back the washcloth, reluctantly.

"Don't worry, I'm all cooled down," Y/n laughed. Max nodded and handed out her arm and Y/n got to work as she talked. "It really is hard to explain," she sighs. "It was last night, with Billy... but it wasn't. He was after me, and he... he hurt me. And the next thing I knew I was being dragged back."

"Back where?" The two girls both ask.

Y/n pours another drop on her fingers and continues to spread rub gentle circles into Max's skin as she looks between her friends. She bites her lip, almost afraid to bring it up in front of El.

"...at the lab." El subtly stiffens. "Which I know is impossible cause I've never been there. But it felt so real. To be honest, I've been having dreams like these - of there - a lot lately."

"That's awful,"

"I'm sorry,"

Y/n shrugs, grabbing for the ace bandage and thin square of gauze. She delicately places it over the wound and she grimaces when she gets a better long-term what she had done. It was dark red and puffy, and Y/n hoped her makeshift treatment would work.

"Not really much I can do," she says, Max holding one end of the strip as Y/n began to wrap. "I just try to remind myself I made it out."

Securing the bandage, she instinctually places a hand over the cloth, securing her work, and smiles. She turns to El, a new seriousness in her eyes and Y/n takes El's hand in her own, giving it a quick squeeze.

"We both did,"

El's smile returns and she feels a warmth spread through her and into her chest. A comforting one, much unlike the heat still lingering in the room.

At the thought, El looks at Max curiously.

"Do your windows open?"

"Yeah," she frowns. "Why?"

El flicks her head and a soft click goes off behind them, followed by the suction of air leaving the room suddenly. Y/n and Max yank their gaze to the window to see it peeled open, letting in a cool breeze through the half-shut blinds.

She swipes at her nose, and the room falls silent as the three meet eyes and a grin breaks out on all three as they begin to laugh.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

First Nations: "Invest in Native Communities"

A Aide Variety of Links and Info on Multiple Native Owned Businesses to Support

Navajo Water Project

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

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