#in all honesty; I think it gives her a sense of ‘normality’

[fishpea]

is fuckface's face a mask or is that all natural swirls

you’re not gonna believe this….

[fiendishfables]

Hello! Can I plz request Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) x reader where he meets the reader and is attracted to her but after he sees her transform into a beautiful Light Fury dragon (How To Train Your Dragon) he's like: they have to be mine.

pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Female! Lightfury Shifter! Reader

summary: ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴇᴛ ꜱᴛᴜᴄᴋ ɪɴ ʜᴇʟʟ ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ᴇxᴛᴇʀᴍɪɴᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴅᴀʏ; ᴡʜᴇɴ ʟᴜᴄɪꜰᴇʀ ᴄᴏᴍᴇꜱ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇʟᴘ ʜɪꜱ ᴅᴀᴜɢʜᴛᴇʀ ʀᴇʙᴜɪʟᴅ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀᴍᴀɢᴇꜱ ꜱᴜꜰꜰᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴅᴜᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴀᴅᴀᴍ ᴀɴᴅ ʜɪꜱ ɢᴏᴏɴꜱ, ʜᴇ ʀᴇᴄᴏɢɴɪᴢᴇꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʜɪꜱ ᴅᴀʏꜱ ɪɴ ʜᴇᴀᴠᴇɴ. ʜᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴋɴᴏᴡꜱ ᴏɴᴇ ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀʙɪʟɪᴛʏ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴜʀɴ ɪɴᴛᴏ ꜱᴜᴄʜ ᴀ ᴍᴀɢɴɪꜰɪᴄᴇɴᴛ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ…

warnings: cursing, slight angst, fluff, Lucifer + reader are secretly in love and are complete dorks about it

words: 6k+

a/n: I saw this request and immediately got to work; I love HTTYD, so I hope you enjoy its inclusion in this fanfic. I was thinking about adding 1-2 more parts to this; just let me know in the replies if you guys even want a second part to this; wanna give y'all what you want. Thanks again, anon, for requesting this! ^_____^

A Dragon's Vow

(Part 1?)

Lucifer had been standing in the lobby of the Hazbin Hotel, speaking with his daughter, Charlie, when he first met you. He had come by the morning after extermination to check on her, as well as the other residents of her hotel (for whom he didn't particularly care for, in all honesty; especially not that Alastor fellow).

They had been speaking about renovations to the hotel after the events that took place prior and during the extermination. The hotel had suffered many damages to both its interior and exterior; damages that normally would take one a while to fix if they weren't in Hell. He promised Charlie his help with fixing whatever needed fixing.

And that's when he first saw you.

Everyone was gathered in the hotel lobby, residents and all. His eyes had begun scanning around all the potential bodies that would be helping with the reconstruction of his daughter's life-long dream of a project, when he had spotted a head of pure white hair in the group's mass. He squinted his eyes, as he couldn't remember seeing such a color that stood out as much as it did, but when he saw your face it was all over for him.

You were absolutely stunning.

Your hair had to have been a result of your transformation into the afterlife. He had never known any being to have such a pure color for hair while still being alive. At least, not naturally.

Your body, from what he could see, appeared to be dusted with white glitter markings, highlighting your already beautiful skin. The light coming through the broken windows of the hotel seemed to gravitate towards your figure, as if sensing the need to accentuate how unique your presence actually was.

In Lucifer's mind, it was almost like looking straight at an angel.

Only was he shaken from his thoughts when he finally noticed the pair of snapping fingers that had been in-front of his face for who knows how long. They belonged to his daughter.

"Dad!" Charlie exclaimed, continuing the snap of her fingers in-front of his eyes until he finally gathered his bearings with a blink, turning to look at her.

"Huh- oh, did you need something dear?" He asked, blinking his eyes slowly, like a toad who'd been sitting on a log all day without interaction. Charlie gave a sigh and put her hands together as she then tried again to reach her father with words.

"I said," She began, a smile creeping its way up onto her face, "Dad, I would like you to meet our newest resident to the Hotel! Her name is Y/N! And, Y/N, this is my dad, Lucifer!"

Then, "I just wanted to introduce you both since we will all be spending lots of time together, trying to rebuild the hotel! I want everyone to get along!"

It was just then that he had realized that you were now also standing in-front of him, alongside his daughter. Your beautifully colored eyes were pinning him under their gaze. Your sparkling skin looked even more enticing up close. It really made him wonder what sort of hybrid you must've been to be able to adorn such a naturally beautiful look. Your eyes had looked at Charlie with such a softness, before turning their now piercing daggers onto him.

Wait...did his daughter say...Y/N?

That had to be a coincidence, he was sure. Such a familiar name, it was just making him think of those he used to know.

Yet, the leap of his heart in his ribcage didn't fail to go unnoticed.

He wasn't given much time to delve deeper into his confused thoughts, because he was already being pushed slightly closer towards you, as a means to encourage him to introduce himself instead of just standing there like an oaf, he assumed was Charlie's idea behind it all.

A goofy grin overtook his face as he took a step forward on his own accord, without any help from his daughter. He was going to nail this 'introduction'. Or so he thought.

As he began the simple motion of extending his arm for a polite handshake, he was surprised to see that, once he re-opened his eyes after a blink, you were no longer standing in-front of him.

Rather, in your place now stood a white, glittery colored dragon, lips pulled back in a snarl, baring your teeth, snout wrinkling with the motion.

Lucifer hardly had any time to react, let alone back up, before you let out an earth-rumbling roar; the sound caused him to instinctively reach a hand up to steady his top hat atop his head, to make sure it wasn't blown off by the force of your bellowing sound. He shut his eyes against the harsh gust of wind that suddenly swept past his face following the noise; the complaints and confused murmurs of the other hotel residents were barely audible as he was the one experiencing this head-on. More to the face than head, but same thing for him.

Once the whirlwind of noise had stopped, he opened his eyes just in time to see you turn tail and flee, going up the main stairs and off to one side of the staircase, disappearing deeper into the hotel. No one went after you. He supposed from that reaction he got just from trying to shake your hand, that was what you most preferred.

In that moment, he realized that Charlie was once again trying to tell him something, but his eyes were still trained on the last spot you'd been.

"Heh...sorry, Dad." Charlie said, rubbing the back of her neck with her big, awkward smile that he knew so well; she got it from him. "I-I forgot to mention that she's still a bit skittish. She was pretty banged up when we first found her during extermination. I've noticed that she doesn't seem to want to be touched or even remotely looked at for too long, for that matter. I shouldn't have pushed her or you, I'm so sor-"

"Charlie, it's fine." Lucifer assured, finally turning his body towards his daughter as they talked, leaning on his cane nonchalantly. "New sinners always need time to warm up to things down here! I can...always say 'hi' later." He assured, giving her a big grin of his own.

His eyes found themselves instinctually looking back over at the stairs and railing, then down the dark hallway where you had disappeared deeper into the hotel. A soft glimmer lit his eyes.

So it was true. He had thought you looked a little familiar...maybe a bit too familiar when he first laid eyes on you. The white hair might have been what threw him off to start, but there was no mistaking it now. The Lightfury form was a dead giveaway for anyone who knew you personally.

It was you.

Y/N. His acquaintance; the person who had tried to help him rebel against God, prior to his falling. Always he had wondered what had happened to you, being his helper in his schemes, after he fell. What had God done to you? Were you punished as well? He had never known and still didn't, for that matter.

At the time he had hoped, even though it was selfish to wish and he knew it, that you too, would be cast from the clouds and bound to join him in the afterlife down in the various cities of Hell.

What he had gathered from your sudden appearance here, at his daughter's Hotel, told him that you were most likely still living in Heaven, and probably against your will. Whether you were still an angel or not, he didn't know.

All he knew was that you weren't where you were supposed to be.

But he was determined to find out why you were here, and how on Earth you were still managing to be as beautiful as the last day he laid eyes on you.

Whilst everyone else was out helping with fixing hotel damages, Lucifer had snuck back into the hotel; he was searching for you, to put it plainly. You had caught his interest earlier, and he just wanted to apologize to you for being so forward and making you uncomfortable enough to scurry away like you had. He was also terrified that he had already made a horrible impression on such a beautiful woman, which whom used to work right alongside him back when they both spent their days in Heaven. He had lost you once; he couldn't afford for that to happen again, especially not when he could help it.

He practically skipped up the stairs two at a time to the second floor of the hotel, as that was where he had watched you disappear an hour or so ago. He assumed that meant your room was somewhere nearby.

It surely didn't take him too long to find your room. The side of the door exposed to the hallway had some unique-looking, luminescent vines hanging down from the top of it; some tiny glowing crystal shards were embedded into the wood of the doorframe.

Lucifer stood outside that door for a good five minutes. He swallowed many times, as if trying to physically push the nerves back into his body.

What was he supposed to say? What should he do? How should he act? Would you even let him near you? Did you remember him at all? Did you...hate him?

He remembered receiving some pretty angry sounding letters from you when he fell from Heaven. Claiming to him about how the angels, as your side of the punishment, had started using you for tests to try and better understand your hybrid anatomy; forcing you into executing angels who refused to follow the rules with your plasma blasts. He had then sent a letter back, asking why they didn't cast you out like they did him. You told him it was because the angels deemed you 'too valuable' to just be thrown down into 'that wasteland', as they put it.

Lucifer shook his head. He was still stalling. You were just on the other side of this door, someone who he used to call his partner in crime; his friend. He sighed, straightened his outfit whilst taking a deep breath, then knocked a total of three times.

He waited patiently, tapping his foot outside the door silently, mentally willing for you to open the door and possibly (hopefully) greet him with open arms.

But like all the other things pertaining to your complicated relationship status, he knew that was amongst the many things that was very unlikely.

He raised his fist to knock again but there was no need. The door opened a crack. He stiffened in surprise, moving his head to peer into the small crack the sudden opening provided. A soft glow could be seen within the room but besides that, the interior was shrouded in darkness. Although you yourself had not physically come to the door to let him in, he took this as an invitation rather than a deterrent. Stepping inside, wincing at the small creak of the door on its hinges, he shut it behind him without so much as a sound.

Lucifer looked around, taking in the interior design of your room. The half shrouded in blacks and greys looked like any of the other hotel rooms. It held a fancy, well-kept king sized bed; a nicely crafted wooden desk with a chair, a small carpet under it additionally to avoid scratching the floors; a large dresser; a decent sized standing mirror beside the bed; a small nightstand on either side of said bed.

The other half of your room was a totally different story completely.

And he had to admit, it was pretty amazing.

The second half was an expanse of forest-like figures. It held high rocks that seemed to stretch to the endless ceiling of the room, while the original half of your room had a short-stopped ceiling just high enough for five-star comfort. Said rocks held many various colored crystals on them, each which glowed a slightly different color than its neighbor, each bearing that welcoming yet cautioning signal to any beholder.

The wooden floor gave way to a grassy texture; the grass was glowing lightly, looking more like an expansive patch of algae rather than everyday grass. He could tell it was most likely very soft though, as it swayed lightly, subtly, as if a draft were coming through from somewhere not visible to the naked eye. There was even a little pond in the distance he could see!

As he thought to himself more and more, he realized that he did know what this stuff was. Landscape one would see in The Hidden World. In your Heaven days, the both of you would sit around for hours and swap stories with one another, going all the way back to the times when you were alive and what life was like for you. You always spoke to him about The Hidden World; the homeland and birthplace of all the dragons of your kind. From what you had told him about it, he had deemed it pretty amazing in his mind. He remembered you speaking about the glowing necessities, the luminescent markings on dragons, the crystals you sometimes liked to collect, and the overall peaceful atmosphere. He was able to get a general image in his mind of all the things pertaining to the homeland that you mentioned; looking at this area of your room now, he told himself it was probably safe to assume that this whole area was a resemblance of where you come from. He felt as if he could almost puff his chest out in pride for remembering something so important to you. Of course, he had to stay humble now if he wanted any chance of getting you to talk with him once again; maybe not like old times, but a greeting would be nice, surely.

You had said that The Hidden World was truly a place that you felt peace for the first time in your life whilst you were alive. Then you had proceeded to tell him after that, that he now provided that same feeling for you. That sense of safety. Security. Belonging.

As he made his way across the normal part of the room to get to the additional beauty, that's when he noticed you there. You were, hanging from a bare tree by the tail, it looked like. Your beautiful, white wings were wrapped around yourself except for a tiny crack in their merging.

And in this crack between your wings, was a thin-slitted pupiled eye staring straight at him.

The sight caused him to freeze in his tracks, with one foot now in the glowing, algae-like grass. He gave a nervous smile your way, which only caused you to narrow said eye further and uncurl your wings. Like the most skilled acrobatic, he watched as you unfurled your long, slender dragon body; walking along the branch, you then jumped down to the grass below.

Your eyes were still slits as you approached him now, slowly, cautiously. Almost as if he were the prey and you the predator. Honestly, that's how Lucifer felt right now.

But then, instead of pouncing, you just stopped and stared at him. Your long, elegant tail lashed slowly, barley touching the grass as it swayed freely, yet with a controlled fashion. Eyes still narrowed, you let out a snort of annoyance, rolling your eyes, before tossing your head in an irritated gesture and finally coming to sit on the grass, still a ways away from him.

"...You're ruining my grass..." You huffed, narrowed eyes taking him in, raking over him as if you could pick him up and toss him out of your proximity with just a gaze.

He blinked at your dragon form, confused. Then he looked down, seeing how one of his shoes was sunken slightly into the delicate, glowing grass. He gave a sheepish smile, quickly removing his foot and placing it back on the hardwood, rubbing his neck with a nervous chuckle. Although he knew there was a human soul beneath the dragon you were currently transformed into, he also knew that you could probably reach him in a faster time than he could scream. So, he wanted to try and keep you happy, especially if it meant you would keep talking to him, even if in a condescending tone. And especially since he didn't know your current feelings towards him.

"Sorry, I-"

"Save it. I don't want to hear your excuses, Lucifer. Don't you think you've given enough of those already these past hundred years?"

He looked up at you, eyes shining with a little bit of hurt. That might be the first time you had ever used his full name since he first met you. He was so used to you calling him Luci.

Lucifer just...didn't sound right. Not coming from you.

"I-"

"Then, you come in here and trample my grass; the same grass of my homeland; the grass my ancestors before me walked on!"

"I-its just grass, darling-"

Your head snapped in his direction quite violently due to the nickname and his response. Your body stood up on its own accord and began slowly stalking over to him.

"Just...grass? Just GRASS?! I was born on said grass-"

You continued walking towards him, pupils back to those dangerous slits that signaled your current emotional state; upset and angry. You kept rambling to him about the grass and its importance to your true home. You got so close to him to the point that he had to start taking steps backward, until there was no room left to do so. He was at the door to your room, back pressed roughly to it as your dragon form prowled closer to him, flat snout right in-front of his face; he could practically feel the hot air being emitted from your nostrils. By this time, you were nearing the end of your rant.

"and at the end of the day-" You let out a hiss, baring your teeth. "...it really is just grass."

Your face relaxed almost immediately. Your wrinkled snout became smooth again, the luminescent glows from the vines on the door making it sparkle lightly. Your bared teeth dropped their snarl, turning your dragon lips into a sly smirk. You turned tail and lazily sauntered back to the grassy expanse of glowing vegetation. Doing a few circles in one spot you then decided to lay down on your side, eyes never leaving his. Almost as if you were taunting him to draw nearer.

"I- oh. Wait, what? W-What-"

Lucifer sighed and awkwardly leaned on his cane, rubbing his temples. He knew you to be intimidating back then but holy shit, now? Now thinking about it, he never really had experienced your fury head on before. He hoped he never had to.

Seemingly sensing his hesitation, you sighed.

"Oh for fucks sake, Lucifer. I was kidding. You of all people should know how dramatic I like to be."

Seeing as he still didn't move a muscle, as if wanting to respect your personal space and not get any closer if you really didn't want him to, your cylinder-shaped ears flattened against your head, an almost worried look overtaking your features.

As if he didn't believe you were real.

"Am I really that scary?"

As soon as that question left your lips, he was by your side. Having teleported, it made you jump a little when he so suddenly appeared by your side on the grass, sitting cross-legged.

You let your muscles relax once again, letting out a silent breath. You offered him a toothy, cute dragon smile. He gave you his big, signature grin right back.

"No, no, no. You're one of the most beautiful dragons I have ever seen! Absolutely no one can compare to your beauty, light one!"

With the way he spoke, as if he was presenting a speech, it made you let out a huff and a snort, which was also the dragon equivalent of a laugh in most cases. It also made your heart thump rapidly in your chest, hearing him use the nickname he often used for you back when you both resided above the clouds together.

Light one.

You figured it was only fair to change back into your human body, since it had been so long since you had seen one another in person, that he deserved to talk with you face-to-face and not to the face of a dragon, no matter how much he claimed you were beautiful both ways.

In a span of seconds, there was no longer a large dragon sitting beside Lucifer in the grass, but rather another individual, just as himself. Your legs were crossed just as his were, mimicking his body language. The two of you sat in silence for a long while, although throughout it all you could feel his eyes on you. With how quick he was to reassure you of your beauty, you knew he must be dying to ask you a bunch of questions; catch up on all that you had missed of one another's life since his falling and sparse letters in between.

You sighed and folded your hands in your lap, looking at your soft, glitter-dusted skin. It was hard to think of things to say when you really need not say anything at all. The silence, for you at least, said all that words could not and so much more beyond that limitation.

"Look, Luci, I-"

A sudden force knocked you onto your side, arms wrapping around you in the span of a second, squeezing you tightly. You yelped in surprise, although it was quite obvious the only person it could be.

"Oh my goodness, it really is you!" Lucifer exclaimed happily, eyes shut tight as he buried his face into your neck as your hug proceeded. "I knew it! Oh, I knew it as soon as you transformed back in the lobby- when you called me Luci just now. Oh my gosh, it really is you!"

He sounded exactly like a little kid might on Christmas, just getting their first train set, with many more to come after that within the following years. Alongside that excitement usually followed laughter, and oh was that universal sound flowing in the room at this moment.

You were both hugging and laughing to your hearts content after you had gotten over the initial shock of him bowling you over. For a little man, he surely had strength, that was for certain. Yet you knew best that he was not to be underestimated.

"Shit- yes, yes, it's me, I promise! I know the looks a bit new, but its me!" You said, trying to speak coherently through his own rambling and excitement of having finally found his friend after so long. The person who had been by his side through all his rights and wrongs whilst in Heaven. His wingwoman. His ride or die.

The person whom he had loved since first glance, but was too much of a coward to ever admit it. He always knew you deserved better.

"I-I'm sorry, I just...I can't believe you're really here! After...after all this time. Oh, Y/N...how I've missed you..."

Lucifers voice had dropped to a whisper at this point. You had to strain your ears to hear him, but made sure you did. You always heard him, whether he thought so or not.

"I've missed you too, Luci...really. I'm so sorry we got separated. I should've fought harder for your safety, I should've tried harder to convince the council, I-"

A finger found its way to your lips, shushing you with one, quick motion.

"Stop. Just...stop." Lucifer said, brows furrowed, a sad look overtaking his features as he sighed, eyes closed. "It was my fault for even convincing you to help me in the first place. I should've just kept you out of it."

He sniffled softly, turning his body away from yours a bit, not wanting you to see how emotional he was getting. He could still remember the way you cried his name as you got a front-row seat to watching him fall, courtesy of Adam.

Adam. That son of a bitch. He could only imagine the cruel and unusual punishments the sadistic man had thrown at you in return for helping the Devil himself (although he hadn't had that role back then just yet).

"What have they done to you...you know, since I left? They knew we had a good connection. I can only imagine the things they did to you as a result of helping me. I know you said they refuse to kill you or cast you out..." He muttered, now having his knees up to his chest, his chin resting on top of them.

You frowned, mainly in pity for him, watching him seem to curl up into himself like this. You had been thinking about all the ways the separation had been hurting you all these years, but now you had come to realize that you hadn't done much thinking about how it was affecting Lucifer. You figured that, since his fall, he had been doing just dandy down in Hell with his wife, Lilith. God, you hated that woman, or at least you had when they had decided to cast Lilith down into Hell with Lucifer instead of you. Many nights you had cried yourself to sleep, wishing so desperately that you could be down in this wasteland with him, comforting him about the recent events. You knew Lilith most likely wasn't doing it, and even if she was, you knew you could do better. He was your truest friend. You knew him both inside and out. Better than anyone.

"Its not of importance what they did and still do to me, Luci-"

"Yes it is! It's very important!" He burst out, making you raise an eyebrow. "It was supposed to be my job to protect you from any harm that came our way, remember? Remember what I said? I-I promised to always protect you from danger, to keep you safe, and I couldn't even do that without messing up!"

He threw his hands up, exasperated, using a gloved hand to cover his eyes and rub them. You gave him a soft, sad smile, one you were not sure if he saw, but knew he could sense. He was being way too hard on himself, you knew.

You had made the choice to help him, and wouldn't change a thing about that decision.

"Lucifer..." You spoke lightly, as if speaking to a scared animal. In a way, you were. "None of what happened to me is your fault. None of what is still happening to me is your fault. If someone has to take the fault, it should be me. I knew what I was potentially getting myself into when I agreed to help you. Those possible consequences never mattered to me."

You had to look away from him for a split second, some tears falling from your eyes as you blinked, then onto the lush grass beneath both your bodies. A deep breath inflated your chest before you allowed yourself to continue talking.

"All that ever mattered to me..." You began again, voice shaky as you maintained your composure, "...was the fact that I was getting to help my closest friend. The first person in Heaven who welcomed me, took me in with open wings. The first person to ever hug me. The first person to show me how unique and special I was, as well as my abilities and hybrid form. The first person who...didn't look at me like I was some sort of monster, due to the fact that I could transform into a dragon."

This seemed to shock him, for he raised his head to stare at you once again, cheeks lightly tear stained.

"People thought you a monster?" He asked, eyes wide and confused. "Why? H-How-"

You shrugged and picked at the grass beneath you with a finger.

"People tend to be scared of the things they don't understand, Luci. Things they've never seen before, such as a hybrid like myself. Even angels get scared sometimes, believe it or not."

Lucifer was at a loss for words. The angels had seen you as a monster when you first appeared at their gates? Someone as beautiful, majestic, and powerful as you? He truly couldn't believe that. He made a silent promise to himself in that very moment to give Adam a little extra punch for treating you like that upon your first visit to Heaven. You had never told him, either. Or, at least you hadn't had the time to before he fell.

"Apparently." Lucifer grumbled, whilst rolling his eyes. "Damn idiots never know what the hell they're talking about..."

At this, you raised both your eyebrows, and couldn't help the small giggle that left your lips at his protective nature. After all of this time not seeing one another, he was still as protective over you as the first day you met. It was refreshing to see that some things really never did change when it came to the King of Hell. Since the day he became so.

He perked up as you began to giggle, a shot of red flashing across his features from embarrassment. Then, despite himself, he too began to chuckle.

The steady rhythm of his heart made itself well known in his ears as the two of you continued to laugh together, just like old times in the clouds.

Although when you were together it felt like no time had passed at all, you both were aware that that was far from the truth.

You had some catching up to do.

The hellish sun beat down on the Hazbin Hotel. All the other residents, including Charlie, were outside helping to rebuild and design a new look for the previously destroyed hotel.

You and Lucifer had finally come out from your room after chatting it up for what had to have been over an hour. It was nice, now knowing the truth behind some of the things that had happened to him, and you were sure he felt the same about the things pertaining to you. He had promised you he would deliver quite the ruthless punch to Adam's groin when he saw him next, due to the things he had put you through after his falling. This had made you roll your eyes, but the idea wasn't dismissed. You'd allow it. Maybe even a couple times. Especially if it meant you got to see Lucifer happy.

Now, both of you were currently outside with everyone else, helping to rebuild the structure of his daughters hotel. You were in the form of your Lightfury, whilst Lucifer was standing proudly on your back as you flew laps around the perimeter of the hotel, giving him range to shoot blasts of magic, where building parts would then materialize before ones eyes.

You craned your neck around to look at the little man on your back, who was already looking down at you, smiling like the dork you knew him to be. This was almost like the perfect moment, especially after the deep conversation you both had back in the hotel room-

"DAD! No riding my residents, please! I'm glad you're making friends though! Proud of you! I just don't think we have the insurance to cover an injury yet!"

Charlie's voice cut through the atmosphere like a knife, causing both of you to startle and look down at her. She had a finger pointed up at you both, an adoring smile on her face; following it were the rest of the residents eyes. You both were now the spotlight of attention.

Your smooth-skinned dragon face had a bit of a red tint to it now because of the princess's words, and you didn't even have to look at Lucifer to be able to say that he looked the same. His daughter didn't even know how deep the history went between you both; she didn't even know you two knew one another prior to this. Nor did she really need to know. It could be you and Lucifers little secret. Something just for the two of you.

You snorted at her words, managing to screw your face into an extremely unamused expression quick enough to hide the blush, making sure to keep flapping your wings so you wouldn't falter in your hovering.

"Dear, you may just find yourself jealous because I have a dragon and you lack one! You see this beauty? Extraordinary! Such a great species too, infact-"

You managed to look even more annoyed than you felt, as Lucifer continued to take it upon himself to deliver a little speech on your back whilst you were just hovering there, explaining his good fortune to have found a friend in you once again and now being able to get free rides. But, no one seemed to tell him that you were the one steering this ship.

In the span of a millisecond, you had tipped your body to the side, sending him sliding off your back and plummeting towards the ground, following with him yelping in both surprise and momentary fear. You snorted in amusement and instantly tucked your wings and went into a dive, following right after him.

The wind whistled past your sensitive ears as you were now falling right beside him. You looked at him with your wide, cat-like eyes, a curious coo escaping your throat as he just smirked at you, putting his hands behind his head as you both fell through the air, as if in some sort of movie. You then narrowed your sharp eyes and struck him playfully in the chest with a paw, sending him spinning off balance and crashing into some nearby bushes.

Quick to steady yourself, you quickly turned around midair and swooped just low enough to snag Charlie from off the ground, holding her in your arms, before letting her climb onto your back and sitting comfortably. Her smile was wide and cheerful, making you laugh as you shot back up into the air.

"Woo-hoo!" Charlie hollered, holding onto your neck by wrapping both her arms around its thick expanse as you warbled in response, showing off your toothy dragon grin as you flapped your wings vigorously, taking both you and the daughter of Hell off into the surrounding city.

Lucifer sat up in the mas of bushes, spitting out some leaves and rubbing the side of his head. He could've used his wings to slow his fall but he figured if it made you smile, he would get a little banged up. He still had that same grin plastered to his face.

He couldn't even be annoyed as he picked off thorns from his suit and top hat, watching with a soft sparkle in his eyes as his two favorite girls flew away together into the sunset.

Upon Charlie finding and helping you on extermination day, which had been only yesterday, you had now become an official resident of the Hotel. You kept telling yourself it was temporary until you were able to go back up to Heaven, but the more time you spent under the clouds and the feet of those still alive and walking, the more you came to realize that this place felt more like a home than the one you came from originally.

Lucifer had promised to wait for you in Hell after he fell, even for all eternity if that's how long it took for your pure soul to deserve damnation.

In return, you had promised never to truly leave him. To never abandon. To never relinquish your connection. And you would hold that promise, through and through.

It was your vow.

[theloneotaku158]

As of Batman: The Brave and the Bold #12, local precious-gremlin-who-I-would-die-for, Maps Mizoguchi, is now officially(?) the sixth Robin. Or at the very least, she's now "in" on The Secret™.

If this isn’t a set up for her taking up the Robin mantle officially then I genuinely don’t know what is.

As one of the twelve Gotham Academy enjoyers in existence, I am having the extremely normal reaction of "FUCKING FINALLY! LET'S FUCKING GOOOOO--!"

In all honesty, I'd be lying if I said I hadn't seen this coming from miles away. Like, Maps has appeared in a number of seemingly random cameo roles recently, including Batgirls (2021), and even technically as Robin in the backup issues of Batman (2016) #119-121, and in a short story in Batman Black & White. And most of those got collected in a standalone titled "Maps of Mystery", which specifically gathered all her appearances as Robin (and the Gotham Academy Belle Reve story).

And then, of course, her recent time-travelling Future-Trunks-esque appearance in Birds of Prey (2023), as the tech-based Meridian, from a potential future timeline where she apparently makes it as a superhero using gadgets she apparently designed, proving that she's hero material.

That's not something you do for a character for no reason. That's the sort of thing you do when you want to keep a character in the conscience of your readers for whatever reason, because you have bigger plans for them.

Also interesting to consider that, in the "Mother's Day" story where this took place, Alfred is standing right there and not lying down six feet under wood, dirt and a stone slab, and that Bruce is in the old Batcave under the manor so he still has Money™. So we must assume this was some nebulous time in the past (after GA: Second Semester(?), but before City of Bane)... which I won't bother to analyse the exact timeframe of because DC doesn't care about the post-Flashpoint / New 52 / Rebirth / Prime Earth / idfk / Dawn of DC timeline, so neither should I.

But I think it's really funny that this presumably means Maps has known The Secret™ for a long time relative to present-day comics, but always acted like she didn't.

But if all her appearances are in chronological order, that means Bruce is only the fourth Bat whose identity she discovered.

Like, she discovered Cass' identity almost by accident on a trip to the zoo, Damian showed off his grapple gun and gave her an actual Batarang during the three hours he was enrolled in the school (as if she wouldn't immediately put two-and-two together even back then), and she even found out Terry fucking McGuinness would become Batman in a future via a time-travelling grandfather clock.

No I did not make that last part up. Read Gotham Academy istg.

Did Cass know that Maps had been acting as a Robin when she met her, both at the zoo in Batgirls and her future version in Birds of Prey?

Does Damian know the one (1) friend(?) he made in Gotham Academy is potentially in the running for his job?

Is Bruce himself aware that she knows as much about their identities as she currently does?

How is DC going to retcon this so it all makes sense in the barely-functioning canon of the modern DC universe?

I'm digressing. Where was I going with this?

Point is, she's destined to become a Robin, and I'm glad DC finally pulled their fingers out their asses and capitalised on that destiny.

Let's just hope it doesn't take another year for them to follow up on this plotline again.

Bonus: Jason Todd, after learning of Bruce taking yet another happy kid under his wing as yet another Robin, giving her some advice:

[ebodebo]

Chasing The Mask

—red hood is on the hunt for the director and his accomplice, blueprint, gotham's most notourious art theives.

—red hood x art thief "blueprint!" reader

—2.5k+

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A heavy dew settles over the city, along with a light fall of freezing rain. It would almost be calming if you didn't know it was Gotham. One of the most crime-ridden cities in the world. Full of crooks and villains alike. 

Among the haze of rain and sleet, a vigilante sits perched on the top of one of the city's most renowned museums, The Metropolitan. The Red Hood, so he calls himself. While most nights he goes out into the night by himself, to his dismay, tonight he is accompanied by his heroine brother, Nightwing.

The Metropolitan is filled with some of the most exquisite pieces of art made by some highly famed artists, from Van Gogh to Basquiet. It is home to a most priceless collection, indeed. 

Of course, with such valuable pieces, the museum has been the target of numerous theft attempts, and tonight is no exception. 

"You didn't have to come," Red Hood snarkily says as he leans against the red brick encasing the rooftop exit door. 

"Just trynna' help out." The honesty in his voice makes Red Hood roll his eyes. He doesn't necessarily hate Nightwing but he thinks he's too smug for his own good. An entitled, know-it-all. But they are brothers, after all. So, there is a sense of undeniable care there. 

"I've got it taken care of." Red Hood counters, crossing his arms. His tone is almost defensive. Does Nightwing believe he can't catch a simple art thief? Like he's some kind of amateur?

"Is that right?" Nightwing questions, crossing his arms, too.

"Yes." Defensive, again. 

"Because, last time I checked, The Director and Blueprint are still running around Gotham." Nightwing accused. 

"Way to state the obvious, Dick." Red Hood enunciated his name. Dick was used to Hood using his name as a homonym, often. 

"I'm waiting." Hood finally answered his question after the insult. Nightwing let out a light laugh. "For what exactly?" He pushes, uncrossing his arms and walking over to the brick wall Hood was leaning on. 

"An opportunity," Hood stated as if it was the simplest thing in the world. "Jesus Christ, Jason." Nightwing pulled his hand up to wipe across his face, which was covered by a simple black domino mask. 

"This is exactly why I didn't want you to come, Dick." Hood sighed deeply. "Talk too much." He finished, uncrossing his arms.

"Sorry, I have-" Nightwing started, but Hood quickly interrupted.

"Wait, shut up," Hood stated, putting his pointer finger in the air.

"You're really starting to piss me off." Nightwing exhales, anger simmering off his body. 

"Dick, I'm serious," Hood says, turning his head to look around the roof. "You hear that?" He questions.

"Hear wha-?"

"Boys." Hood and Nightwing quickly turn to see Blueprint emerging behind the bricked rooftop door they were leaning on. 

"Blueprint," they simultaneously say. "What are you two doing here?" you ask, tilting your head. Nightwing is quick to respond. "We could ask you the same thing."

"A woman never reveals her secrets." You chirp, pointing your finger at both of them. You walk closer to them, smiling. "It's actually good to see you both." 

"Wish we could say the same." Hood finally speaks. His words are gruff and gray. You rapidly turn your head towards him. It felt weird seeing him like this. Not even thirty minutes ago, you were lying in the sanctity of his warm, cozy bed in a post-orgasmic haze. It wasn't like you and him were dating, but you shared a specific intimacy that wasn't common to either of you. 

Normally, you wouldn’t give boys like him the time of day. But, what can you say? He’s a great lay.

You did like him, sure, but this was strictly business. There should be no feelings involved in business.

"Blue?" Hood questioned, tilting his head to the side in confusion.

You shake your head, absolving you of your thoughts. "Would love to stay and chat, boys, but I have some paintings to tend to." Thanks to The Director, you swivel on your heel to head toward the rooftop exit door that's been propped open. 

"That won't be happening today," Nightwing spoke, pulling out his slick-black Escrima Sticks. 

You let out a smug laugh. "And I suppose you two are going to stop me?" You crossed your arms over your chest, tilting your head. 

"That's the plan," Hood said, pulling out his weaponry, which was tucked nicely in his jacket. 

You gave a nice, wide smile before pressing the button on the small metal capsule of a lead-lined smoke grenade that had been concealed in your hand, throwing it in front of them, unleashing a cloud of smoke that covered your being as you made your getaway.

"Bye-bye, batboys." You yelled to them as you sprinted to the ajar exit door and entered the museum's stairwell.

"Fuck." Hood says through coughs as the smoke forces its way deep into his lungs. Even with smoke filling his lungs, he's still quick to spring into action, following you inside the museum, with Nightwing following hot on his trail, coughing as well.

You flew down the steps. Skipping three, even four, steps at of time. When you turned around after you got inside, they weren't even behind you, still coughing and heaving on the smoke. It was a damn shame Jason was so tall because once you scaled the second staircase, you turned to see Jason beginning the second one. Your eyes widened under your mask at how swift he was. You turned and continued sprinting as fast as your legs could go.

You could faintly hear Hood and Nightwing yell at you to stop, but you pursued down the flights downstairs, reaching the last set of stairs. 

You scrambled up as Hood came unexpectedly close and almost grabbed your arm, but you managed to escape his grasp, holding the handle of the main door and slipping inside, slamming it in his face. You breathed a sigh of relief as your legs carried you over to where The Director AKA your dad was standing, holding an authentic Da Vinci portrait. 

"Nice job, Blue." Your dad remarked, referring to the diversion you created with the bats so he could slyly take the precious art without them interfering. Though slamming the door did make an excellent barrier, you had forgotten to arm the system back, so Hood and Nightwing forcefully pushed the door open. 

"You didn't arm the door system back?" Your dad hissed, looking down at you.

"I-shit." You cursed, turning to see Hood and Nightwing standing only a few feet from where you and your dad stood. 

"You really think you're going to get away with this?" Nightwing cockily questions, stretching his arms down with his sticks in each hand. 

The Director let out a deep, guttural laugh, causing you to spin your head to face him. "Don't you see? I already have," he declared, showing the painting in his hand.

"We could still take you out." Hood points out, his eyes on The Director, as his hand slides to reach for a gadget on his signature utility belt. Though, he couldn't feel anything. Did he seriously forget to bring it?

"How are you going to do that, Hood?" The Director challenged. "Don't have that shiny belt on, do you?" He questioned, gesturing to his waist.

Hood glanced at Nightwing. "You forgot your belt?" Nightwing questioned, disbelief coating his voice.

"I could have sworn-" Hood says before shaking the rest of the sentence off. "Whatever. I don't need it." He assures, assuming a fighting position.

It was honestly true. Hood was an incredible fighter. Watching him fight was astonishing. He could move his body in ways you didn't even know were humanly possible. But, you did not want to fight him. You just wanted to appease your father by helping obtain the painting, so you could all get the hell out of there.

"Get them." Your father demanded, looking down at you. You hesitated, looking up at your father. "Did you hear me? Get them." His words came out harsher than the first, showing his agitation. 

"Come on, Blue, we won't go that hard on you." Hood snarkily remarked, and you reached for his belt wrapped around your waist. You felt a weird sense of guilt as you covertly pulled out a Batarang.

"You just gonna stand there or-" Hood starts but is interrupted by the Batarang swinging right near the side of his head. 

"I actually think I'd like to play, Red." You mischievously say, running towards Nightwing, catching him a little off guard, and extending your leg to kick him in the stomach, pushing him back, as he holds his stomach.

"Come on, Red. I won't bite." You say, making your way over to him while Nightwing is still down. You let out a powerful punch, but he's quick to move his head to the side, dodging it. 

"Actually, I think you might." He says, grabbing your extended arm and twisting it so your body turns in the other direction. 

Nightwing makes his way up. "Well, that was easier than expected." He said, wiping his hands together.

"Because I did all of the work." Hood chimed, still with your arm twisted behind your back. Their banter made for a good distraction so that you could reach into the utility belt Jason mistakenly left at your house and grabbed a stun gun. 

You turned quickly, letting go of contact with him, as Hood talked, and pressed the tazer to his forearm. Although clothed, the powerful current still hit his skin, making him drop to the floor, convulsing.

"Wanna have some fun, Grayson?" You sarcastically ask as you step closer to him. He swings his sticks in front of him in a criss-crossed pattern. 

You take his silence as an answer. "I knew you were always the boring one." You sigh, holding up the stun gun.

"That's a bat-belt." Nightwing states casually, looking over at Hood, whose body is hunched over on the ground, still convulsing. 

"Aren't you just a genius? You sneered, carefully watching him. 

"How the hell did you get bat-belt?" Nightwing gruffly questions, eyeing your hand with the stun gun. You narrow your eyes at him. "Like I said before, a woman never reveals her secrets." You quickly move towards him, though he's not so off guard. Not like Hood was. 

However, unlike a taser, a stun gun does not shoot any projectiles, and it has to be held against a body or skin to do any damage. Nightwing was standing a few feet from you so the stun gun would do you no good. 

But, you don't even get a chance to use it because he's quick to knock the stun gun out of your hand and uses his stick to hit across the museum, a ways from any of you. 

"Ah, I get it," Nightwing says, letting his sticks rest on his side. You tilt your head to the side. "Get what?" You shouldn't be indulging him. You should be kicking his ass, but with Hood down, Nightwing wasn't going to be so much work. Plus, in between fighting them, your dad had slipped away, leaving you to do the damage control. 

"You got it from Jason, right? Well, stole." He dragged out the last word. 

"It's not really stealing if he leaves it in my apartment. Is it?" You retort smugly.

"Of course he did." As he finishes his sentence, you realize you two have been talking for a while. Well, in hindsight, in normal conversation, no, but this is supposed to be a fight, not a catch-up. Wait, I haven't heard Hood? Upon this epiphany, you turn to see an empty spot where Hood laid.

"Where-where did he go?" You stutter, deciphering when he could have left and how you didn't hear him.

"Oh, Jason?" Nightwing starts. "He left a while ago—once you turned around, actually." He coolly says this, sliding his sticks back on through the straps on the back of his suit.

This was a diversion, and you were stupid enough to fall for it. Shit, your dad is going to be so pis-

"Got em'," You hear Hood's voice echo off the walls as he walks in with your father, ropes tied around his hands and ankles, painting in hand. He handed him off to Nightwing as he placed the art back in its place.

You and Hood watched as Nightwing dragged him through the exit door you all came in through.

"So, heard you stole from me?" Hood tuts, shifting closer to you. 

"Like I said to your brother, it's not stealing if you leave it in my apartment." You retaliate, your throat drying as he moves closer.

"It's still mine." He's now standing right in front of you. You feel flustered at the proximity but cannot let it show. He would never let you live it down. 

"And I want it back," he casually says, his hands ghosting over your waist, housing the belt in question.

You look straight up at him. "Take it then." You swear you could hear him inhale deeply at your suggestive words, but you don't ask. 

His hands wander to the belt, hanging a little low on you. You swear he holds his fingers on the front part just to tease you, and if that was the goal, fuck, did he succeed. But you wouldn't tell him that. His ego is already huge. His fingers leave the front portion of the belt and continue dragging slowly along the sides until he reaches the back to unclasp it, and pull it off of you.

Once he steps back, you release a breath you didn't even know you were holding. "I would leave now." He suggests, wrapping the belt around his own waist. "You know, before the police get here."

"Okay." You felt like he had just put you under a spell. You are willingly agreeing with him. He can sense this, too, and smirks under his mask at your cooperation. 

"Night, Blue." He says as he turns to the rooftop top exit door, pushing it slightly.

"Goodnight, Red." You say, releasing a sigh of relief once he steps outside the door.

"Oh my God." You say to yourself. "That was-" You pause, taking a deep breath. "Do I like Red Hood?" You question, thinking. "No. Definitely not. It was nothing." You lie to yourself. You had only ever slept with the guy, so it just had to be the undeniable sexual tension between you two. That’s all. Right?

You thank God when you push open the rooftop door that Hood isn't hovering behind the door, listening to you essentially try to deny, and fail, expressing your feelings for him.

It is so nice for Hood that stairwells offer a safe place during storms, but they also offer space for a secret spot, just like the one Hood implemented into the walls of The Metropoliton some years ago.

He used to hide from criminals chasing him through the museum, which happened quite frequently, but now he was using it to simply make sure you left okay. But who knew it would double as a way to hear about your secret love confession? Certainly not him. 

reblogs & comments are encouraged!

[joons]

okay no wait, I'm so curious your thoughts on the elvis mythology! I'm trying to think of an example haha. anyway, thank you for that food for thought. your takes on elvis are so interesting and kind of a different perspective than I normally see

Thank you! That means a lot because I do love going into his psychology and thinking about how he thought about things. And I love being able to engage with Elvis stuff from all different angles!

I can think of a few - like there will be people who were close to him who make such absolute statements about him: he refused to wear blue jeans, he hated eating fish, he loved eating peanut butter/banana/bacon sandwiches, he was afraid of germs, he wouldn't sleep with women who were mothers. But not all of those are true for him 100% of the time, or they seem to be big outliers where no one else has reported anything like that. And as you read more, you can see moments where he behaves differently than these big eccentricities that people pin on him, and you have to think about why that might be. You pick up little clues that you can put together to figure out what he meant. Did he have an almost pathological dislike of blue jeans because they reminded him of his childhood poverty, or did he just tell one of his band members that because he had made a brusque joke about the guy wearing blue jeans in front of a bunch of people and wanted to find a way to apologize without apologizing? Was he covering up behavior he was ashamed of, or was he revealing the real shame that drove him to look his best and make sure his entourage looked their best too? Did he actually have an aversion to women after they had given birth (unlikely, since he had relationships with several mothers), or did he want to give Priscilla a reason for avoiding her that she couldn't work around, knowing that she always went overboard trying to change herself to get his attention and getting rid of things she thought were coming between them (his spiritual books/Larry Geller/etc.)? Was this just one of a long line of excuses he made for not truly being in love with her and not wanting to try anymore? Did he actually eat the same sandwich every day, or did he just make a big deal about it one time because it was Lisa's birthday and he wanted to fly her somewhere special? And the other stuff he did eat every day, did he do it because it was one of the few things in his life he had control over, and could extract comfort from, or did he do it because, as he told Larry, he wanted to make himself sick of it so that it would no longer be a temptation? And how much of these conversations are either hearsay or someone putting words in his mouth to absolve themselves of something that bothered them?

The long and short of it is that people have sometimes reported things he said or did without any surrounding context, or it gets stripped away when it's reported elsewhere, and we are left with these moments that don't make sense or tell us anything about him unless we see how he dealt with them throughout his life, around different people, and see him as a whole person and not the Elvis Image that he tended to embrace when it suited him and resent when it hurt him. A really great moment that I think shows how Elvis tended to approach things is reported by Steve Binder, where he said Parker was telling Elvis absolutely not to do something, and Steve felt like Elvis just kind of shut down and mumbled "yes" until Parker left, and then Elvis' eyes flashed and he turned to Steve and said, "Fuck him," and did what he wanted to do. He was a people pleaser! A huge one! He valued loyalty above honesty. He was willing to lie to people he cared about if he felt that it would avoid a confrontation, and sometimes that tipped into a selfish "I want to do things my way," and sometimes that tipped into a selfless "I want them to have everything I can give them." And he waffled between those extremes because of his own low self-esteem and loneliness. I'm! Screaming! About this! At all times! He is an unreliable narrator, he's such a bubble of emotions that pops with the slightly scratch, he's so complex that you are not sure if he wants the bubble to be an opaque shield or a transparent boundary that you can slip through. He was testing people all the time to know if he could trust them with his heart without expecting him to be the Elvis Image, telling them things that were an invitation and a challenge and an insult and a declaration of love all at once, and so much of the problem we deal with now is that people are still completely uninterested in these depths. I???? Love him??? And the things he can help us learn about ourselves??? Just by trying to see him as he really was????

I don't know, I just get very overwhelmed!!!!

[milevenstancyendgame]

Mike's Pep Talks & Sense Of Justice

So one thing I really love about Mike is that he always tries to act when he sees one of his friends suffering or injustice going on. It's an astute feeling of what's right and wrong, plus trying to give to others what he didn't receive himself from his parents (reassurance, praise, emotional availability, honesty, etc).

I think the first example we got of this, was in s1 when we first see the boys being bullied in school. The bullies specifically targeted Dustin here and directly after they leave, Mike tells him that he thinks his different anatomy (cleidocranial dysplasia) is like a superpower, that it makes him cool, like Mr Fantastic.

There's a nice reference to this at the other end of the seasons, when Will tells Mike in s4 that he makes him/El feel like they're better for being different.

In a similar vein, Mike tries to see the good in Will getting insight into the Mind-flayer's perception/feelings, calling him a super-spy.

He also is adamant about Lucas, Dustin, and Will being equally his best friends, reassuring Dustin (who wasn't even upset, but just assumed Lucas was Mike's best friend; and he visibly brightens up afterwards).

In s1, he also defends El when Lucas says she's a weirdo and not a superhero ("The X-men are weirdos!"). He tells her several times that she's a/his superhero when she doubts herself, and reassures her about her appearance.

He also tells the others several times not to exploit El's powers and to respect her boundaries ("Stop it, you're freaking her out! She's just scared and cold.", "She's not a dog.", "Stop it, you're scaring her!", "You're treating her like a machine, when she's not a machine.").

After the police questions the boys at school, Mike tells his family at dinner that he wants to go out and help search for Will, saying that they should be doing something. His mother forbids it, Nancy makes a condescending remark about Will, and his father patronises him, making Mike exclaim in righteous anger: "I'm the only one who's normal here! I'm the only one who cares about Will!"

There's a parallel to this in s2, after they escaped from the lab and gather at the Byers' house. Everyone is in a state of shock and feeling hopeless/like there's nothing they can or should do, but Mike talks about how Bob founded the AV Club and that they need to avenge him (because it's the right thing to do).

Of course jumping from the cliff in order to save Dustin from getting maimed is another example of him just finding it unbearable to see his friends suffer. The way he tries to protect El over the course of all seasons is another example (too many to list them all, but random ones are letting her stay at his house, although he knows it gets him into danger; trying to protect her from Brenner and the demogorgon, trying to keep her from over-using her powers in s3, saving her from Billy, etc).

These are all instances I can think of atm, though I'm sure there are more.

[waywardxwords]

The Fix - Part 8

Summary: Everyone has a past, but yours seemed to haunt you. You've tried to move forward with a normal life, but the day comes when that's not possible anymore. When Sheriff Beau Arlen enters your life, you're certain he is going to judge you just like everyone else in town does. But something about Beau is different.

Warnings: Slight language, discussion about drugs/drug dealing, slight angst, fluff-ish

Word Count: ~2.7k

Beau’s foot pressed down on the accelerator of his truck until it had touched the floorboard. He tried to get a handle on his emotions, but he wasn’t used to feeling this way and he hated it. He had always been able to use his adrenaline as fuel in his line of work, but this felt different. All he could think about was Matt Donahue’s words—“We’re going to offer him a plea.” 

In all honesty, he should’ve seen it from a mile away. As a Sheriff and someone who worked with prosecutors on a daily basis, a plea deal made sense. The FBI weren’t interested in some small town drug dealer. They wanted the big guys. But he was too close to this case, and it felt dangerous. 

The tires of his truck squealed as he pulled into the parking lot in front of the office. His feet carried him to the front of the building as he tried to slow his breathing. 

The glass door swung open with more force than he had anticipated as he barged into the lobby. Justin Markham, the district attorney, stood there as if he were awaiting Beau’s arrival. Next to him was Matt Donahue, the agent Beau was getting increasingly annoyed with seeing in his town. 

“Beau,” Justin started carefully as he read the frustration and anger across his face. “I need you to just hear us out.”

“Hear you out?” Beau bit back as he planted his feet just in front of them. “You call me, tellin’ me you’re offerin’ Jackson Lyle a plea deal. Jackson Lyle, the man who has been dealin’ heroin, cocaine and meth in this town for the last four years. The man who kidnapped his child, shot one of my deputies and then held me and the child’s mother at gunpoint?!” He couldn’t control the volume or tone of his voice any longer. 

“I know you’re disappointed,” Justin spoke while Matt remained silent. “There’s a reason–”

“There’s absolutely no reason for us to explain this to you,” Matt sneered as he cut Justin off. “This one’s above your pay grade, Sheriff.”

“It’d be in your best interest not to speak, agent,” Beau snapped back. He turned back to Justin. “How do you expect me to keep the people of this town safe when you’re just gonna let this piece of shit back out on the street? What’s the deal, anyway? Is he even gonna see the inside of a cell?”

The DA took a breath and glanced at the agent. Matt seemed to give up and waved, as if saying he didn’t care and to just fill Beau in at this point. 

“Let’s go to your office, alright?” Justin placed a hand on Beau’s shoulder as the three men walked in and closed the door behind them. “The judge is ready to sign a restraining order for the victims today. There’s no question on that, it’ll be very clearly stated to Jackson that he’s not allowed anywhere near them or their property. He’s already agreed to it verbally.”

“Oh, yeah, that sounds great. Let’s trust the abusive drug dealer who doesn’t give a shit about anyone but himself,” he said sarcastically. “Fan-fuckin’-tastic work, guys.” 

“Sheriff,” Matt said firmly. “We have an opportunity to get to the root of the opioid crisis in Big Sky. We can take out the source, and that starts with information we get from Jackson Lyle.” 

“I’m not an idiot, I hear you,” Beau snapped back. “I’m tryin’ to figure out how I’m gonna tell the mother that just got her daughter back and has been afraid of this man for all these years that he’s gonna walk.” 

“It’ll take some time,” Justin tried to assure him. “The restraining order will be firmly in place, and the FBI still has a lot of information they need to get out of him. He will remain in custody until everything checks out. We’re talking a month, minimum. It could be six months, for all we know.” 

Beau sighed and rubbed a hand down his mouth as he processed. “Alright,” he finally conceded, more so because he knew there was absolutely nothing he could do to change the outcome. He shuffled in his pocket as he felt the device vibrate against his thigh. 

“The FBI has promised they will keep you in the loop along the way,” Justin looked at Matt pointedly—as if he was reminding him of the expectations. 

“I sure as hell hope so,” Beau’s voice trailed a bit as he saw Cassie’s ID on his phone—he had received a text message. He scrolled to open it. 

Cassie Dewell Hey, can you send me their home address? 

Beau quickly wrote back. 

I don’t have it on hand. It’s off of Arbor Road just off of Main. Why?

“I, uh, I gotta get going. I’ll say thank you for keeping me up to speed, but I’m still not happy,” Beau grumbled as he nodded at both the agent and DA. 

“I’ll call you later,” Justin shook his hand before Beau headed back for the front door. He stepped into his truck and pulled his cowboy hat from his head, placing it in the passenger seat before he put the key in the ignition. His phone vibrated once more. 

Cassie Dewell They left a note that they headed there to grab a few things and to meet them there. 

Beau felt like he could scream. He knew there wasn’t any immediate danger after talking to Justin and Matt, but he also knew he had asked one thing of you—to stay put and just wait for Cassie to get there. 

“Dammit,” he couldn’t help but curse as he squeezed the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white.

The tires crunched upon the gravel. He barely waited for his truck to stop before he shifted into park and threw open the door. 

“Hey,” you said, a bit confused as you approached from the front door. You had heard the familiar sound of his truck pull up and decided to greet him from there. “You okay? I thought Cassie was coming. What did they say?”

Beau slammed his door shut. “Was there any confusion about what I asked you to do before I left? Was I clear, or do you just not care that I’m trying my absolute damnedest to keep you safe?” His words nipped, much like the cool Montana air. 

“I just wanted to come back to get some fresh clothes and bring Bailey back to the comfort of our home for a few minutes,” you tried to explain with your eyes widened. He was mad; pissed, even. But you didn’t feel like it was fair. “Jackson’s locked up, right? Even with a potential deal, there’s no way they’d let him out right now.”

Beau knew you were right, but the fear just wouldn’t dissipate. “But if there are people lookin’ for him, where do you think they’re gonna go when they find out he’s locked up, huh? Where would they go when they realize that he’s probably gonna strike a deal for ratting them out? Who would they go after to get to him?” His eyes hadn’t faltered from yours as he took focused steps towards the stairs leading up to your porch. He stopped just before the first one.

You, too, knew there was truth behind Beau’s words. “So you’re going to stand out here and yell at me?!” You couldn’t help the rise to your voice. After what you went through with Jackson, you had sworn you’d never let a man control you like that again. Even though Beau was being rational, you couldn’t allow yourself to accept it. “You’re going to argue with me because I just wanted some normalcy again?”

“I’m arguin’ with you because I’m trying to fix this,” he sounded exasperated, though unphased by your tone. “I’m tryin’ to keep you safe.”

“Oh, don’t you worry, Sheriff,” your tone was snarky. “I don’t need you to fix a damn thing. There isn’t anything broken that needs fixing.” You muttered, frustration burned your eyes in the form of angry tears. It was a lie. You felt completely broken most of the time, but your frustration had gotten the best of you and you didn’t feel like admitting it. Beau knew anyway. 

“You know what,” Beau grumbled as he shook his head. He sucked on his teeth for a second before he returned his gaze to you. “You’re right, darlin’. You don’t need fixing. But this situation you're in? It makes me crazy. You don’t deserve it—an ounce of it,” his words were purposeful as he stood planted just in front of the first step of your porch. “And over the last few days, I’ve gotten to a point where I care…I care a lot. So I’d be damned if I put you in a situation where you’re not safe. Because when you’re not safe, I can’t even think straight.”

The air between you was tense, and you weren’t sure what to say for a moment. Beau’s chest rose and fell with each heavy breath he took. The air he blew out created small clouds, a clear indication of how hard he was breathing and how cold the air was. 

“I’m sorry that you were scared,” you tried to dissect his words. “I’m sorry that I didn’t listen. I’m not used to this…” you paused as you tried to think about how you wanted to explain the situation. “I’m not used to having someone look out for me. I look out for myself.”

“You’re gonna have to let that go, darlin’,” Beau was still frustrated, but his tone had softened. His feet moved slowly as he climbed the first stair. “I am standin’ here, telling you I want this.” His voice was low as he took another step. “I want the hard times, the good times; I’ll take on all the crazy…” with one more step, he was level with you now. He stood there unwavering, and you found it hard to hold his eye contact under the weight of his words. “And if that’s what you want, too? Even better. But I need you to meet me halfway, sweetheart.” His voice was just above a whisper now. 

Frustrated tears had pooled in your eyes again, but this time it was something deeper. Your life was complicated—it had been complicated—for a very long time. You hadn’t thought of sharing your life with anyone but Bailey for as long as you could remember. But here Beau stood, telling you he wanted all of it. 

“How am I supposed to meet you halfway when you won’t open up to me? I barely know anything about you, Beau. You can’t take your walls down, so how am I supposed to meet you in the middle?” You folded your arms across your chest and stood your ground. 

Beau broke eye contact and a hot breath escaped his lips. “You’re right, darlin’,” he said softly. His tongue darted out over his lips. “You wanna know my story? I left Houston because I screwed up.” He lifted his head to find your eyes again. “There was a case I was investigatin’ and it went south. I was followin’ the wrong trail, and a deputy got killed because of it. I panicked, and I wasn’t gonna take this job because of it. But I had to be close to my daughter and I didn’t know anything other than law enforcement. Nine times outta ten, I feel like an imposter in this job. But I promised myself I’d never make another mistake again. I’ve spent the last three years trying to fix it—all of it. Trying to fix myself, and tryin’ my damnedest not to screw anything up.”

He paused, and your heart sank in your chest a little. You felt overwhelming sympathy for him and what he had been through. “You can’t blame yourself, Beau.”

He chuckled almost sarcastically. “Oh, I can and I do, sweetheart,” he sighed. “But that’s besides the point. We all have stuff. And you’re right, I need to open up more if I’m askin’ you to meet me in the middle. I’m willin’ to do that…I’m willing to try.” 

“I want to try, too, Beau,” you breathed out, Beau’s smile hidden for only a moment as your breath fogged in front of you. “I can’t promise we won’t have more moments of me not listening or pushing back on you…”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way, darlin’,” he drawled, just before he captured your lips with his. 

Cassie had arrived shortly after and agreed to hang out with you and Bailey. Beau had said he had one more stop to make, and while you didn’t know where he was headed, you didn’t push back or ask any questions. 

Beau had called in a favor, one he wasn’t sure would be granted. But for the first time since this whole ordeal started, the FBI had come through. 

He pulled open the heavy metal door and prepared himself to go through the metal detector. 

“I’m meeting Matt Donahue with the FBI,” Beau said to guard just past the security entrance after he showed his Sheriff’s badge. The man led Beau through a code-locked door that closed shut with a loud bang. 

Matt stood there in his suit with his hands in his pockets. “I’m breaking a lot of rules letting you do this,” Matt grumbled as he glanced at the watch on his wrist. 

“Yeah, well,” Beau cleared his throat. “I helped catch him, didn’t I? He’s been creating mayhem in my town, I think you can give me five minutes.” Matt rolled his eyes but started down the long hallway. Beau followed. 

There was another guarded door with a code lock. Matt nodded at the guard there, who unlocked the door and opened it for them to walk through. 

Beau glanced around at the barred cells. Chatter and yells from the prisoners echoed off of the walls. Matt stopped in front of a cell. 

“Ah, if it isn’t the pretty boy sheriff,” Jackson Lyle sneered from where he sat on his cot. He had bandages around his shoulder and upper torso. Seeing that brought Beau a little bit of joy. 

“At least one of us looks good,” Beau snided back. He glanced at Matt with a pointed look. 

“Five minutes,” Matt repeated before he retreated back down the hallway, as promised. Beau turned his attention back to the cell. 

“Ooh, what’s the pretty sheriff got to tell me, hmm? You hear I’m getting a deal? I’ll be out of here in no time,” he seemed so proud of himself. 

“Yeah, about that,” Beau glanced down but then locked eyes with the man on the other side of the bars. “As we both know, you’ll have two restraining orders against you the second you step foot outside this prison. But I also want you to know, I’ll be watchin’. Every step you take, you’ll have eyes on you as long as you stay in Big Sky.”

“You say that now, but just you wait and see. My ex-wife can be a real bitch. You’ll get tired of her shit the same way I did,” he sneered. “She’s a broken woman. She won’t let anybody try to fix her.”

“Here’s the difference,” Beau was firm in his words and made sure he held his composure. “I’m gonna go in there and pick up the pieces that you broke. And she and I, together–we’ll fix it ourselves. While you’re only interested in getting your fix, I’m prepared to put in the work and be what she and Bailey need. You’ll never see them again, Jackson. And if you do, you’ll end up with a bullet between your eyes. I’ll put it there myself.”

A/N: And there we have it, folks! Part 8! Did we love it? Hate it? Surprised by our least favorite FBI agent's slight change of heart (or that he has a heart at all?).

It pains me to say, but this will be the last full chapter for The Fix! I'll post the Epilogue on Wednesday that will bring things full circle. I've struggled with if I wanted to carry this further (and while I think there are opportunities for additional development, I also sort of feel like I'd be drawing it all out if I kept going). All of that to say: I do think there may be a one shot or two (or more, I mean--who knows?) in the future. I really loved branching out and pushing myself to write Beau Arlen, and I truly enjoyed writing the reader & Bailey in this series, as well.

While it's not quite the end just yet, I can't forget to say THANK YOU! I have gotten so much love on this series, and I truly appreciate it.

See you on Wednesday :)

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Tag List: @jackles010378 @ladysparkles78 @zepskies @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @djs8891 @globetrotter28 @deans-baby-momma @k-slla @agentorange9595 @dragonfly92 @nancymcl @springsteeen @perpetualabsurdity @deanwinchestersgirl87 @mimi-luvzyu @jesllianaquilesrolonsworld @ultimatecin73 @spnfamily-j2 @impalaspixie @daughterofcain-67 @lacilou @jasminewinter140 @yvonneeeee @stoneyggirl2 @rizlowwritessortof @marimarvelfan @jc-winchester @taylortot @siampie1990 @thewritersaddictions @raisinggray @tabsluvsu @rachiem4-blog @leigh70 @nyotamalfoy @ades106 @akshi8278

[merwgue]

Okay, but can we talk about how Nesta is so autistic-coded and the Inner Circle is just... completely missing the memo? COMMING FROM AN AUTISTIC PERSON🥳

Look, I’m not saying Sarah J. Maas intended to write Nesta as autistic, but come on. You’ve got a character who struggles with social interactions, needs her own space to recharge, has intense, specific interests (ahem, reading), and who’s constantly being misunderstood by the people around her. If that doesn’t scream autistic-coded, I don’t know what does.

1. Social Interactions? Nope.

Nesta’s social skills (or lack thereof) are a big flag. She’s always being criticized for not fitting in, not behaving “the right way,” or not being all warm and fuzzy with everyone. Sound familiar? People on the autism spectrum often get labeled as “cold” or “aloof” when in reality, they just don’t vibe with the social expectations around them. And what do the Inner Circle do? They constantly expect her to be like them instead of trying to understand her on her terms.

Feyre’s over here like, “Nesta, why are you so difficult?” And Nesta’s probably thinking, “I literally just need some space from all you over-hugging, over-talking, too-much-energy people.” But instead of giving her the tools to communicate or cope better, they just drag her to a cabin in the woods. Sure, lock her up. That'll definitely fix everything.

2. Sensory Overload, Anyone?

Nesta’s reactions to stress and overstimulation are spot-on. The whole time she’s in the Night Court, it’s just noise, noise, noise. Between Feyre’s incessant meddling, Cassian’s loud warrior energy, and Rhysand being... well, Rhysand, it’s like Nesta’s surrounded by sensory overload. So what does she do? She shuts down. Classic move when the world is too much.

But does anyone ask, “Hey, maybe this isn't about her being rude, maybe she’s just overwhelmed?” Nope. Instead, it’s more like, “Nesta’s broken, let’s force her to train and socialize until she magically becomes like us!” Not how it works, guys. Not at all.

3. Obsessions Aren’t Just a “Phase”

Nesta’s love of reading could be seen as a deep special interest, which is a common autistic trait. And yet, what does the Inner Circle do? They act like it’s some sort of escape or avoidance mechanism rather than a source of comfort and grounding for her. Of course she’s going to retreat into books! They make sense, they don’t demand anything from her, and they’re not trying to change her every two seconds.

4. Bluntness? It’s Called Honesty.

Nesta’s “rudeness” is really just brutal honesty. She doesn’t sugarcoat things. And why should she? In her mind, it’s more logical to say things as they are. But the Inner Circle constantly misinterprets this as hostility or coldness. Why? Because they’re all about emotional theatrics, and they just don’t get someone who communicates in a more direct, matter-of-fact way.

5. Let’s Talk About the Whole “Locking Her Up” Thing

So, Rhysand’s big idea for dealing with Nesta is basically to isolate her in a house she doesn’t want to be in and force her to follow his "recovery" plan. Yeah, because forcing someone who is already struggling to conform to your idea of healing works so well. The whole thing feels like they’re punishing Nesta for not fitting their mold. It’s like, “Nesta, you’re not behaving the way we want you to, so we’re going to fix you.” Cue the eye roll.

What They Should’ve Done Instead:

Instead of forcing Nesta to be like them, maybe — just maybe — the Inner Circle should’ve, oh I don’t know, accepted her for who she is? Maybe they could’ve recognized that she doesn’t process the world the same way and that’s okay. Give her the space she needs, stop trying to mold her into their version of “normal,” and for the love of everything, stop treating her like she’s broken just because she’s different.

Maybe Nesta just needs some sensory breaks, a quiet space, and people who actually listen to what she needs. Instead, she gets dragged through the mud, labeled as a problem, and forced into a version of recovery that only works for everyone else.

So yeah, the Inner Circle missed the memo — and that memo was: Nesta’s not the problem; their complete lack of understanding is.

Ty @fenrysmoonbeamswife for the idea!!! I loved your posts pookster

[theamityelf]

Okay at this point am just gonna start calling myself chai anon if you don't mind because it seems like am here to stay with the ideas (ahoge makoto, sharing makoto between students)

Okay soooooo i was thinking about class 77 reaction to their minis after leaving the simulation

And this is perhaps in an au where they all live? Or maybe if like canon only makoto,kyoko,aoi, byakuya, yashiro,toko live

BUUUUT basically they leave the simulation and are like :O

Because HEY their minis that they had to take care of are now not minis,just normal people

But despite that I think perchance habits are still hard to break whether it be kazuichi looking out for chihiro or mahiru making sure hifumi doesn't do anything you get my point

But I just wanna see when nagito sees big makoto or when the class does they'd be like '... nothing changed' because they're right, makoto is still the same clumsy guy that gets lost repeatedly and that sometimes the class has to look for him albeit not as much,so maybe like nagito would also keep up the habits he built on petting him or the class would sometimes pull at his ahoge if makoto insists on working when he should get some sleep

Ahhhh now am imagining it with the au of makoto being fuyuhiko's mini but an all honesty am all out of brain juice currently because am studying for an exam when I got stuck with the idea

This is a threat,you will see me again with more ideas :)

Chai anon-

(I look forward to it! 😁)

Mini Classmates AUs Masterlist

You know, from a rehabilitating-the-Remnants standpoint (in this AU), I'm sure the idea behind the mini kouhais was to give the Remnants an opportunity to care about someone who depended on them and couldn't do much/anything for them in return.

Like, the Neo World Program was meant to be a scenario where they were experiencing communal love for their classmates as a collective, friend love for those they specifically connected with, and selfless love for the kouhai they were taking care of.

But they definitely missed the mark on that last point, because the takeaway for a lot of them definitely ended up being, "Some of my mental health is now staked on the fact that this person depends on me and I get to take care of them and project feelings onto them and keep them close."

That possessiveness we talked about is going to be propping up a lot of the weight for their sense of self, once the foundations of who they are get shaken by remembering what they've done.

And when the feeling of ownership they had over their kouhais is challenged by them being people-sized, I don't think all of the Remnants are going to be willing to let go. A lot of them are going to want to act out some version of that relationship on the full-sized kouhais.

And after everything they've done, there's a lot they can justify now. After all, if cuddling with their kouhais keeps them from relapsing into despair and committing bigger atrocities, then they should do everything in their power to make sure they can cuddle with their kouhais, right?

(Basically, A Panel of Hope Experts, but for everyone.)

The matter of whether or not the whole 78th class is alive becomes huge, in this case.

If not, one imagines the Neo World Program was supposed to have a whole process for letting the proxies for the people who died say goodbye and go away and just generally break things to the Remnants gently and give them time to grieve before the full brunt of the apocalypse hits him.

Instead, the killing game happened, and there was presumably no time to adjust to their kouhais actually being dead before the Remnants woke up with a deluge of traumatic memories and had no one to make a little sleep space for or carry to the dining hall or anything.

They just have these six. And Aoi doesn't need Akane to cut up her food anymore. Makoto still falls a lot, but he doesn't need them to help him up. Toko doesn't need to be protected from Gundham's hamsters, Byakuya doesn't need to be helped up to the sink basin, they can take care of themselves.

But a lot of the Remnants really want to act like they can't.

And those whose kouhais died find themselves very attached to whichever survivor was closest to them. Hiyoko is even more attached to Aoi than Akane is; Ibuki again joins Nagito in smothering Makoto; Mikan is obsessed with the fact that Yasuhiro was one of the last ones to genuinely try to connect with Taka.

(Kazuichi is mostly just bitter about everything.)

If the 78th class is alive, then that's a bit better for everyone. Kazuichi would definitely be less bitter if Chihiro was alive to care about. But Taka should be worried, because Mikan will be the clingiest she's ever been. And Fuyuhiko definitely won't like being shorter than Mondo again.

In this situation, pretty much everyone can just fixate on their specific kouhai, instead of having to collectively share.

Chiaki wasn't really human, so Celeste doesn't have a senpai. Just imagining Mikan eagerly volunteering to take her in. It's as if she's just adopted two black-haired, red-eyed orphans.

Either way, we end up in a situation where, first of all, some of the Remnants will be very quick to make their kouhais need them.

(The Makoto ahoge hack, definitely. He'll be trying to get work done, and one of them just starts brushing his hair, and he's like, "I know what you're doing. It's not gonna work." But he's asleep in minutes, and they get to carry him to bed or let him sleep across their lap. And I'm sure at least some of the other Remnants have found similar things that make their kouhais sleepy or vulnerable.)

And second of all, if Hajime/Izuru thinks it will benefit his friends' recovery, he will make sure the kouhais need their senpais. Maybe he'll lightly poison them so they'll be sick for a while.

(Maybe he omits Kyoko from whatever he does, just out of personal loyalty. She was his mini, after all. She can observe from the sidelines alongside him. He'll make sure she doesn't interfere.)

[steddieunderdogfics]

This week’s writer spotlight feature is:  steddieasitgoes! @steddieasitgoes has 27 works posted to AO3 in the Stranger Things fandom and 23 of them are in the Steddie tag!

Our anonymous nominator recommends the following works by @steddieasitgoes:

Signed, Sealed, Delivered (I'm Yours)

for a fortnight there, we were forever

honey i'm still free (take a chance on me)

You Were All Yellow

Eat Your Heart Out, Big Boy

"Her fics are SO FUN. I have enjoyed every single one that I've read IMMENSELY and am always talking about them to my friends after I've read them <3" -- anonymous

Below the cut, @steddieasitgoes answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

Was I supposed to watch Eddie throw Steve his vest – the quintessential 80s romcom moment – and be totally normal about it? But in all honesty, there’s just something about them that compels me. When you dig deep into their personalities and arcs, they’re really two sides of the same coin and there’s so many ways for that to manifest in fic.hen

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

I had to consult my ao3 bookmarks for this one and “getting together” tops my list, which really isn’t a traditional trope but I absolutely adore that mutual pining, idiots in love sort of thing that happens in those fics. Bonus points for slow burns!

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

Idiots in love for sure. Again, not a typical trope but I’m pretty sure it’s tagged on just about every fic I’ve written. It’s just so easy to slot them into those roles and banter their way into a love confession. The show is so life and death all the time, that I like letting them be goofy boys.

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

This is like asking me to choose if I’m more of a Steve girl or an Eddie girl – impossible! But if I had to narrow it down to a top few, I’d say: the most remarkable thing by greatunironic, rounding third, sliding home by througheden, better by you, better than me by palmviolet, and is your light on? By Adure

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

Outside of fic I’m a huge fan of enemies/rivals to lovers so I think that would be fun to explore between Steddie. There’s a hint of it in Signed, Sealed, Delivered but I think their hatred fizzles out really quickly and I definitely want to play with something where that takes longer to happen.

What is your writing process like?

It sort of depends on the project, but typically I get a kernel of an idea. Somethings that’s a setting, sometime it’s a bit of dialogue, sometimes it’s just ✨ vibes ✨ Then I’ll add it to my jumbled mess of a notes app on my phone and keep adding to it as I get ideas. When I wrote my first fic (Can’t Fight This Feeling Anymore) I had no outline whatsoever. I just knew I had this one scene in mind and kept writing and building the world until I felt the moment made sense to happen. Nowadays, I’m a bit more organized when it comes to longer fics. I’ll usually do a bare bones outline with the major beats I want to hit outlined. This gives me enough structure to not feel lost, but also lets the characters breath one the page and make their own choices. Every fic, but the one I’m working on now for the steddie big bang, I’ve written chronologically which helps me because I can see the progression of the relationship dynamics in real time.  For one shots, it’s somewhat similar. I start with a kernel of an idea and a general plot in my head and just write and hope for the best lol

Do you have any writing quirks?

I think I use the same sentence structure a lot which drives me nuts, but I can’t always help it. Motif-wise I don’t think I have a unifying theme amongst all my fics, but I can almost guarantee that there will be some kind of third act break up. Happily ever afters are always going to be in my fics, but I like to make them work for it. Also they do a lot of gazing at each other and things in my fics. So much gazing!

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

Generally, I like posting when something is completely finished. But I get antsy and have been known to start posting when the fic is 85% done and then procrastinate on writing the end until my deadline is looming.

Which fic are you most proud of?

I’m proud of all of them for different reasons, but I was really blown away with Can’t Fight This Feeling Anymore. I hadn’t written fic in years and had never written a third-person mlm story before. At the time it was also the longest thing I had ever written. It definitely made me fall back in love with fictional prose writing and the steddie community as a whole.

How did you get the idea for Signed, Sealed, Delivered (I'm Yours)?

It was actually inspired by a ficlet I had written earlier that year and decided to use as inspiration for the full length fic. I was driving around and I kept seeing mail trucks everywhere and I remember getting an image of Steve in those short khaki shorts, carrying a satchel full of mail. And then I remember thinking “I wonder what Eddie would think” and the worms took over. I will say, expanding it into a full fic did take some time though because the ficlet was just vibes

When writing Signed, Sealed, Delivered (I'm Yours), what was something you didn’t expect?

How long it ended up being lol I think it came in double what I had predicted it to be. I also didn’t expect to write it in the way I did. All my other fics are very traditional in that each chapter is a day or a couple days and it follows a clear timeline. With Signed I really went for a vignette, slice of life sort of storytelling which was a bit difficult initially but I think it paid off in the end.

What inspired honey i'm still free (take a chance on me)?

That one was written for a valentine’s discord server so it was based on the prompt steddiealltheway on Tumblr had submitted. It took me a minute to work out the plot, but I liked the idea of Robin getting to be the wingwoman for Steve.

What was your favorite part to write from for a fortnight there, we were forever?

There was a metaness to that one that was so fun to write. You have Eddie falling in love with Supernatural, a show that was known for making questionable decisions in the end and talking about how fanfic saves the day and that’s exactly what I’ve spent the last two years doing for him lol I love the idea of Eddie being a fandom kid like all of us, and dragging and unknowing Steve into it with him.

How do/did you feel writing Eat Your Heart Out, Big Boy?

At the time I think I just wanted to write something fun and silly because I was deep into Signed, Sealed, Delivered at the time and was feeling bad about not sharing anything. It was like a palette cleanser.

What was the most difficult part of writing You Were All Yellow?

Definitely deciding which yellow objects I was going to use and figuring out how to string them together in a clear narrative arc. It was a puzzle of sorts that took a lot of patience to figure out. It was also a bit reverse-engineered where the objects dictated what the story would be. I think it would have been easier if I had the story first and then found things that fit that narrative.

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

I struggle with writing poetically, so I was really proud of this line from Duck, Dodge, Don’t Fall In Love: “He feels like an astronomer falling in love with stars for the first time in the untouchable night sky. Because that’s what Steve is, right? A dazzling force that Eddie can steal glances at but never touch, never reach.” But also any and all smut scenes I’ve written. That was an incredible challenge at first and I literally wrote the first make out scene ever under the covers of my bed lol

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

I’m planning to participate in this year’s Steddie Week with some (hopefully) short one shots. And then I have my big bang fic When The Buzzer Sounds that will come out later this year. Other than that we’ll see. My notes are overflowing with ideas it’s all about finding the time and the right one.

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?

As I write this I’m not sure who nominated me, but I want to say thank you to them! It’s so wild to me that people resonate with the silly stories my brain comes up with and I’ll never take that for granted. There’s so many creative steddie fic writers out there and I’m so happy to be one of them. We really blew up overnight and it’s been so fun watching everyone grow together. And I want to thank all the mods behind this blog for helping share writers hardwork!

Thank you to our author, @steddieasitgoes, and our anonymous nominator! See more of steddieasitgoes's works featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

[skmhlml]

Hello!

I think the guy from stay out of the house is so cute! I love your fanfic that you made of him😭😫 so I was wondering if you could make a fanfic of like when you meet his mother or like just a little moment when he talks to us or just stares at us honesty I’ll take him what ever he does 😏

I got chu bbg, let me take care of you🍵

🔪 Okay, so you’re barely holding it together after being dragged into his creepy big ass house, getting ringing wars from the loud alarms and almost bleeding out because of the best traps for ‘your own safety’, and now you meet his mom…

🔪 His mom is giving off major “old horror movie villain” vibes. you feel her watching your every move, but you can’t tell if she hates you or if she’s weirdly proud her son brought someone home. “Oh, finally, a guest,” she’d say, with the creepiest smile.

🔪 There’s this awkward, suffocating tension in the air—his mom asks you questions like, “Do you like blood?” and “Are you a good cook?” (Ma’am, I’m a hostage not a house wife)

🔪 Imagine being in a dimly lit, dingy room, with the Butcher sitting across from you. He’s not saying a word, just staring at you. it’s not normal staring. it’s that intense, unsettling, you’re mine look. (freaky ah.)

🔪 You’d think it’s creepy (and, well, it is), but you can’t help but feel like he’s silently worshipping you, like his mind is filled with all the ways he’s going to keep you safe. His way of safe is terrifying…

🔪 Sometimes, when you catch him staring, you’ll nervously ask, “What are you thinking about?” and he won’t answer. The same weird, possessive look will remain on his face, but his breathing may become heavier, as if your presence overwhelms him.

🔪 You’d also catch him standing outside the door sometimes, just waiting. Not knocking or trying to come in. Just standing there. And the thought of him doing it for hours? Yeah, you kinda get chills, but at the same time, you wonder if he’s standing guard or just… obsessed.

🔪 You catch him watching you while you sleep. Not just from across the room, standing over your bed, so close you can feel his breath on your skin. He’ll stay like that for hours without blinking. Sometimes, he might whisper something low and unintelligible, like a twisted mantra only he understands.

🔪 Sometimes, he’ll just snatch your wrist. Not forcefully, but firmly, as if he’s reminding you that he’s right there. It’s his way of saying “Don’t forget about me” without having to say a word.

🔪 when you’re sitting together in this painful silence, he’ll reach out and touch your hair, just sort of running his fingers through it. It’s weirdly gentle like he’s afraid to hurt you.

🔪 If you even think of escaping, he knows. You don’t know how, but he always senses it. The first time you tried, he didn’t say a word—just caught you mid-act, his grip on your arm so tense it hurt. He hauled you back, hurled you into the dim room, in the human-sized cage, and locked the door. For days, you weren’t sure if he was going to let you eat or if you were going to make it out alive. But you did.

🔪 When he catches you hesitating or staring too long at the door, he’ll remind you what happens to those who leave him. He doesn’t have to say anything; a quick glance at his knife collection or the blood-stained rags in the corner does the talking for him.

[yo-yo-yeonkai]

MY EVERYTHING, MY ETERNITY - CHOI YEONJUN - SFW

Yeonjun x fem!reader

Genre: Fluff

Warning list: not proof read, established relationship, a bit suggestive for a sentence or two, very much so in love, pet names (princess, loverboy, Junnie)

Word count: 976 ~ a short little baby

Summary: a tired and lonely Yeonjun comes home to his cute girlfriend muttering his name, and decides he simply can’t go to sleep without talking with her first. Maybe she won’t mind being woken up?

Even as your chest rose and fell with each breath you took in your sleep, your boyfriend didn't stray far from your side. Cute little mumbles were falling from your mouth as you slept and he just so happened to hear them, so he wasn't going to let you off the hook for keeping him up with how adorable you are. He'd intended to go to sleep the second he saw you fast asleep in your bed, but the sounds just wouldn't let him. You'd grasped his attention, unintentionally.

Even as you mumbled he ran his thumb along your wet lip, thinking about how he'd move to kiss them. He knew you wouldn't mind, but he'd much rather hear your sleepy mumbles right now. Gentle chants of his name fell from your lips, and even in your dreams, he seemed to be making you feel good. He had to be proud he could bring your dreams into reality.

As he kissed you, you slowly began to stir. He had expected this and continued to play with your lips. You had always been a heavy sleeper, completely unaffected by any noise in the room. But for some reason, the touch of his lips was enough to rouse you instantly. It was as though you could sense that he wanted your attention. It felt like a fairy tale, and he was determined to be your prince charming. And so, he tried to play the role to perfection.

You hummed, your eyes fluttering open to meet Yeonjun's gaze. It seemed to be the evening, and the only way you could see his face was from the lit lamp on his bedside table. You moved closer to him and wrapped your arms around him, cuddling into his chest, thinking that's what he wanted and then he'd let you go back to sleep. In all honesty, he didn't know what he wanted other than you. He wanted to hear you, see you, touch you, he wanted it all. He'd selfishly woken you up because he felt lonely and wanted to at least say goodnight, seeing as he couldn't earlier. That's what happened when he had long days in the studio...

Yeonjun hated not being able to hug you when you drifted to sleep, hated not being able to ask you how your day was, he just longed to be a normal couple sometimes. No, he wanted more than that, he wanted to be your prince.

"Heya sexy man~" you jokingly mumble in your soft sleepy voice. He hums and wraps his arms around you kissing your forehead a few times before speaking back to you. "Sorry, I woke you princess. I just wanted to check how your day was..." he explains, feeling a blush crawl up his face at the thought of how babyish he must seem right now. You didn't mind though, you loved when he woke you to check how you'd spent your day without him. It gives you a chance to see him before you have to wake up and say goodbye and start the cycle again the next morning.

"I don't mind, Junnie," you reassure your boyfriend. ''My day was good, I was actually productive for once. It was plant watering day so I really enjoyed that." You speak, an innocent twinkle in your barely opened eyes as you gaze up at your boyfriend. He smiles at your cuteness and kisses your lips before speaking "I'm glad you had a nice day. I'm assuming you spent some time singing to the plants again?" He teases, remembering how he'd caught you a few months ago. You blush and tell him "It's not the same when you don't join me. The plants grow better when you sing so brilliantly to them. Try serenading them as you pass by please~" you suggest, making Yeonjun nod in understanding. He didn't know if it truly had benefits, but Taehyun had read an article once that said it had some benefits, so Yeonjun was more than happy to do as you pleased and try it anyway.

When he first caught you singing to a plant, he was convinced that you were a princess straight out of a movie. It seemed as though you possessed the power to communicate with plants and help them thrive. Your track record with plants was impressive - you had never killed one or even caused harm to one and they all flourished in your presence. Your beauty left him in awe that day, and he swore he'd marry you one day.

You then asked him "How was your day, Loverboy?" He chuckled and rubbed soothing patterns on your back "It was okay... same old same old today. Just more rehearsals... I really wanted to hang out with you when I got home, so I was a bit sad to see you were asleep, but I can't blame you, it was 1 am...". You nod and reach to kiss him quickly "Well I'm awake now, so we can chat! What's the time now?" you inquired, trying to peek over his shoulder to see the time. He checked his phone and replied, "It is 3:30 ish, sorry I woke you up..." he murmurs. You shake your head at him and cup his cheeks "Hey, look at me Yeonjun, and listen. I. Don't. Mind. You. Waking. Me. Up. Especially if you are feeling sad!" You reassure him for the 100th time. He nodded and kissed you, a soft smile on his lips as he pulled away.

"Alright, princess, let's get some rest. You've made me feel much better," he says, switching off his lamp and snuggling closer to you. You let out a soft laugh and settle into a cosy position. "Goodnight, my everything," you whisper, as you start to drift off to sleep, hearing him reply with "Goodnight, my eternity"

[graciegoeskrazy]

Instead of living in your head

ross Macdonald + daughter!r

warnings: angst, lil bit of yelling, crying, r has dyslexia, uncle matty lolz, r is 11, tall ross with lil y/n oh my hearttttttt, barely proof read, idk what else

a/n: told ya i’d get this done tnt! Thank you tot he anon who requested this i ran right to the computer after getting the request.

“Why must the parent-teacher conference be tonight? And why are you so stubborn about going to all of them? You already know I’m doing fine in school.” You groaned from the back seat.

Ross kept his eyes on the road, not giving into your antics, as cute as they might be. “Oh, how terrible. God forbid I care for my daughter and help her during her school years.”

You smiled. “You really don’t have to go, you see my grades, they’re good.” You told him you just wanted to spend a quiet night with your father, which wasn’t a lie technically, but there was a bigger part that you didn’t want to tell your father.

You knew you were struggling. You knew this ‘issue’ was getting worse. For years, you were able to get by in school. Your grade wasn’t the best compared to your other stellar grades, but you kept it up. Until now. It wasn’t that you weren’t trying. If anything you were trying your hardest. It’s just as time went on and you got older, the harder it got. But you were determined to continue on as if nothing was wrong.

“I’ll only be gone for a few hours. Plus you don’t have to go with me, you get to stay with your uncle.” You smiled only a little bit. You figured that there could be a chance the topic won’t come up.

In complete honesty, Ross forgot this parent teacher conference was happening, which led him to texting Matty last minute.

ross | What are you doing tonight?

matty | getting drunk and crunk and making love to my wife

ross | Do you think you could add watching y/n for a few hours somewhere in between all that?

matty | oh for sure

matty | of course she calls upon her favorite uncle in her time of need

ross | George was unavailable…

matty | ffs

ross | Be there at 5.

The front door opened with a whirl as soon as you stepped out of the car door. Matty stepped out with his arms opened wide. You ran to him. “Uncle Matty!”

He scooped you up and lifted you in his arms. “Hey, angel! There’s my favorite niece!”

You looked at him with a pointed look. “I’m your only niece.”

His smile never faltered, “Which means you’re my favorite!”

Ross walked up by this time. “Thanks for doing this last minute. I should only be a couple of hours.”

“No worries. Say bye to your father.” Matty said, then gentured to you.

“Bye Daddy.” You said hugging his legs.

He kissed your head. “Bye, my love. Be good for your uncle.”

“Always.” You said with a smirk. Making both men smile.

—-------

Ross truly thought he had nothing to worry about. You were a well rounded girl all things considered. And not a single teacher had a complaint in the past. Sure, he was completely biased, but you were a great student. Not every kid can be perfect, but he was convinced you were the closest any girl could get. But again - he’s biased.

Someone had called his name from a hallway that was filled to the brim with anxious parents. They led him into a classroom. He was met with a woman, y/n’s teacher he heard about, standing over a table organizing files and papers. She was younger than he expected, but seemed nicer than the other teachers you’ve had, gentler.

“Mr. Macdonald! Please, come have a seat.”

She introduced herself, told her about the class, what they learned, etc. It all seemed very normal yet, there was still something that didn’t make sense.

“As I’m sure you’ve noticed, the grades she brings home are phenomenal.” He nodded, a small smile gracing his face. “It’s no surprise to me or any other teachers here that you have a very bright child. She’s the first to raise her hand, the first to help others, she has every quality of a great leader.”

He kept nodding, obviously agreeing but too shy to verbally admit it. Too proud to admit you were smarter than he ever was at this age.

Suddenly she took a pause. She read over her notes. When she looked back up her eyes wandered, looking anywhere else but Ross. “I have noticed a few grades have been dropping in the reading area?”

His head tilted. “Really?”

“Well, her last few grades have I’ve noticed have been getting lower and lower. Now her overall grade, although lower than the rest, I’m confident we can bring it back up to where it was.” She shifted, and Ross took notice. “When preparing for this meeting I discussed this pattern with our principal, and she thinks it’s possible that y/n has Dyslexia or another learning disability.”

Ross didn’t expect it.

“We have many resources right here in our school. If you want to get her officially tested we can help with that. That’s what we’re here for.”

He finally regained his thoughts, “To be honest, I haven’t even noticed. In her quiz grades? The ones she brings home?”

She let out a soft, sad sigh. “Yes. At first we thought it was some form of test anxiety? But, it’s mainly happening in the reading subject.”

Ross felt a tightness in his chest, the weight of guilt settling in as the teacher's words lingered in the air. He replayed the moments when y/n had shrugged off his questions about school, offering vague reassurances that everything was fine. He had wanted to believe her, and in his busyness, he’d let himself. But now, hearing this, it became clear—she hadn’t been fine at all. She had been drowning in silence, hiding the truth about her grades, her struggles, and maybe even her feelings. He hadn’t seen the signs. The late nights, the way she’d avoid reading out loud, her tendency to brush off doing her homework with a fleeting excuse, but then catching her doing it in silence in the confines of her room. It all added up now, and the realization hit him hard.

He felt a deep pang of regret, mixed with anger—anger at himself for not seeing it sooner, anger at the school for not catching it earlier. Dyslexia. It was a word he wasn’t familiar with in a personal way, but he knew enough to understand that you must have been feeling overwhelmed. He couldn’t help but imagine the frustration she must’ve experienced in class, surrounded by kids who seemed to grasp what was on the page while she struggled to make sense of it. It pained him to think of y/n, his only child. someone so bright and full of potential, being weighed down by something out of her control. 

His mind raced with questions. How long had she been struggling like this? Why hadn’t she come to him? And how was he going to help her now? He realized this wasn’t just about grades; this was about understanding her on a deeper level, about being the kind of father who didn’t miss the subtle cries for help. He nodded to the teacher, forcing himself to stay composed, but inside, he felt a swirl of emotions. This was just one layer of what you had been dealing with on her own. 

—-------

You ran out the door to your dad’s car, but not before giving Matty a big hug and telling him bye.

You greeted your dad with a kiss to the cheek, like you always did, as you got in the car. “Matty got me Mcdonalds.” You said, tone cheeky.

“Nice. What’d you buy me?” He said, only for a second forgetting the news he just learned.

You gave him a look. “Funny.” He smiled and you continued. “How’d it go?”

He shrugged, “Went alright.”

You mentally sighed, maybe they didn’t talk about it after all?

When you got home you told your dad you were going to shower. He nodded and let you be. It was getting late for you after all. He thought to himself as he watched you walk up the stairs. How am I going to ask her? He hadn’t a clue how he was going to address this.

—-------

He heard the water running from the bathroom that was connected to your room. Once he slowly and quietly opened the door, he made his way to your desk.

Compared to other kids your age, your room was pretty tidy for an 11 year old - another point that Ross made when bragging to others about how great you were. The bottom side drawer of your desk was filled with old test papers and worksheets that you brought home. You had always kept them in there, but not before proudly showing them off to your dad first.

It wasn’t the most organized, but the marking in red at the top of certain pages led him to the ones he needed. The first couple of papers weren’t awful, but definitely concerning knowing your usual grades. The more pages he picked up the lower the number at the top of the page. They were littered with correction marks and notes in red ink. His heart sank knowing the truth. The truth was you lied to him. He tried to stop himself from getting too angry but admittedly it was hard. You told him everything, and he was proud of that fact. He knew that as you got older there might be a day where you held some secrets to yourself, but never did he think it would happen now or at this age.

To entranced in the papers and the grades staring back at him, he didn’t notice the water stop or you walking out of the bathroom, towel in hand drying your hair, dressed in your pj shorts and one of your dad’s old t-shirts that, although large on your small frame, always seemed to look just right. “What are you doing?” You said, your voice small, curious. That curiosity only grew when you noticed the pile of papers on the desk and the ones you never wanted your father to see lying in his hands. “Why are you going through my stuff?” You said, stepping forward, only a hint of anger seeping through.

He looked at the papers in his hand, then back at you. “What’s this?” He asked.

You crossed your arms. “Answer my question first.”

He just continued. “Why haven’t you shown me any of your English class grades?”

“So that’s not answering my question actually.”

God, she can be like her mother sometimes. “y/n Macdonald, answer me.” He said, sternly. A sight you can’t recall the last time you saw.

You immediately got shy, shrinking in on yourself once you heard your fathers tone. “...I have-”

“No, you have not.” He said. He took a few steps forward. “I’ve never seen these papers or grades in my life. Why didn’t you show me? You show me everything like this.”

Your stomach flips as he holds up the stack of wrinkled papers, his face twisted with a mix of confusion and hurt. The sight of them makes your heart race faster. You never meant for him to find those, but here they are, crumpled in his hands.

“I don’t know,” you mumble, eyes darting down to the floor as your hands start picking at the edge of your shirt. “I forgot.”

“Forgot?” Ross’s voice sharpens, and you hear the disbelief clear in his words. He kneels down so he’s closer to your height, his face stern but not unkind. “These grades, y/n…why would you keep these from me?” His voice softens toward the end, almost like he’s afraid of the answer.

You stay silent, fighting the tears that sting behind your eyes. You’re not sure how to explain it, how to make him understand why the sight of those red marks on the papers made your chest feel heavy, why handing them over felt like admitting you were broken in some way. “I didn’t want you to be mad,” you whisper, feeling small under the weight of it all.

He lets out a slow breath, running a hand through his hair. “I’m not mad. I just—” He stops himself, and when he speaks again, his voice is quieter. “I’m not mad, Y/N. I’m just… sad that you felt like you couldn’t tell me. That you thought you had to hide this.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, wishing you could disappear, wishing you could take it all back. “I didn’t want you to think I was dumb,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

Ross’s face softens at your words, and he gets down on one knee on the floor in front of you, his eyes searching yours. “You’re not dumb,” he says, shaking his head. “You’re so smart, Y/N. Way smarter than I was at your age. You just… you need a little extra help with this, that’s all. And that’s okay.”

He grabbed the sides of your arms, shifting the tone of the conversation as he spoke.

“Baby, do you know what Dyslexia is?”

You slowly lifted your head to meet his eyes. Softly shaking your head and letting out a meak “No.”

He swallowed and moved some of the pieces stuck to your face from crying away and behind your ear. “It’s a learning disorder that people have. All kinds of people, kids, adults. It could be anyone.”

He saw your eyes look up at him with curiosity. “Is it bad?”

“No, no. No, It’s not bad. Not at all.” He took your hands in his, “It just means some people need more help than others. Sometimes they need to be taught in a different way.” You looked down again, “Honey, some of your teachers at school think you have Dyslexia. They think that’s why you’re getting these grades.” You were trying so hard to keep the tears at bay. “Do things sometimes look different than what the other kids are saying they see? Or are you slow at reading? Are things like that getting harder?” He tried to search your eyes for something. A feeling or an answer, but all he was met with were tears.

His words make something crack inside you, and before you can stop it, the tears are spilling down your cheeks. You’re not sure if it’s from the relief or the guilt or the sheer exhaustion of trying to hide everything for so long, but you can’t hold it in anymore. Ross reaches out, pulling you into a hug, and for a moment, you let yourself sink into it, into the warmth and safety of his arms.

“I’m sorry,” you manage through your sobs, clutching his shirt.

“I know, kiddo,” he murmurs into your hair, holding you tighter.  “Why didn’t you tell me this was happening?”

You continued to sob, “I didn’t want you to get mad at my grades. I didn’t understand what was happening. I just thought I was dumb and if I kept trying it would get better, but it didn’t.” You said, pulling away slightly.

“Y/n.” He said, semi-sternly. “You should never be afraid to tell me something. I could’ve helped you-”

“How?!” You said, anger seeping through, knowing that the truth was he wouldn’t know how to help you.

He sighed, “I-...i don’t know.”

“Exactly.”

“We would’ve figured it out, we would’ve gotten the help sooner.” He took your head in his hands, “I’m not angry about your grades, baby. I’m angry you lied.”

You shrugged through your sniffles. “Can you blame me?”

He gave you a weak somber smile, “No. I can’t.” You fell into his arms again, cries continuing to wet his shirt but settling down with the comfort of your Dad. “But you don’t ever have to be scared to tell me. No matter what. We’ll figure this out together, okay?” 

You nod against his chest, the weight of the secret you’ve been carrying finally starting to lift. 

You were still angry—not at your father, of course—but at the situation, at how unfair it all felt. You'd spent so long believing you were just slower than everyone else, that something about you was fundamentally wrong, and now, suddenly, you had a name for it. However it didn’t erase the years of frustration or the moments when you felt completely lost, watching your classmates breeze through what felt impossible to you. But at least it was something—a reason. You weren’t broken, and knowing that eased a small part of the heaviness in your chest. 

Still, the anger lingered, mixing with relief in a confusing knot of emotions. Maybe you could get the help you needed and not have to hide behind excuses or crumpled papers anymore. And maybe, for the first time in what felt like forever, you could let yourself believe that it wasn’t your fault. You weren’t alone in this, and though the road ahead looked uncertain, at least you weren’t walking it by yourself.

You glanced up at your dad, who was still holding you close, and a small, tired smile tugged at your lips. Whatever came next, he was ready to help you through it all, and you were ready to face it together.

[aihoshiino]

chapter 136 thoughts

before i get into the sad stuff i need to say that ai eating ice cream with her head empty no thoughts expression blasted ten hundred million billion tons of dopamine directly into my brain. thank you.

This chapter is interesting for a lot of reasons but I will say up front that I'm really glad the story is taking the time to humanize Nino and to flesh out the absolute mess that are her feelings towards Ai. I was really excited when she entered the story because I had always wanted to know more about the 45510 narrator (which this chapter basically unambiguously confirms even more strongly than before — we get the 45510 drop again!) but I was worried after meeting the real Nino that she would be painted as a black and white villain. Through Kana's empathy for her and the movie's portrayal of her though, we get to see her as just a normal person.

Because like… I'm gonna be honest, I feel so deeply sorry for Nino! Like, Jesus Christ, don't forget that she was anywhere between twelve and sixteen when all this was happening. She was just a kid being brainpoisoned by the entertainment industry and held to impossible standards. She had no power and the few things she felt she had any control over were being ripped out of her grasp. Is it any wonder she reached a breaking point?

Not just that but… man, B-Komachi gen 1 just seemed like it was an utterly dogshit experience for everybody but especially anyone who wasn't Ai. Both Nino and Kyun have said it explicitly: they did not feel like valued members of the group. Saitou pushed and favoured Ai to the extent that everyone else in B-Komachi felt like backup dancers who were just there to make Ai shine brighter. We see this pattern repeated in B-Komachi gen 2, as well! I've already talked about how in a very real sense, the group only exists for Ruby's sake and Kana and Memcho really are just there as her accessories but Miyako herself is favouring and pushing Ruby for work to the extent that even Ichigo points out that she needs to give the other girls more jobs. No wonder Kana empathizes with Nino so deeply.

Something else really interesting about this chapter is getting to see what dealing with Ai is like from someone else's POV. Understand that I'm saying this as the Internet's Foremost Ai Wife Guy but oh my god!!! I think this is the first time we've gotten a really good understanding for how deeply, deeply frustrating Ai really must have been to deal with as a person only allowed to see the perfect 'Ai of B-Komachi' mask. Nino is all but breaking down in front of someone she considers a friend, begging her for the slightest bit of honesty and authenticity, for Ai to just show that she cares about Nino in the least… and Ai just gives her a bunch of blithe, noncommittal answers. Even knowing Ai as well as I do, I could almost feel a ghost of Nino's desperation and frustration pass over me as I read that exchange.

With that in mind, Nino's outburst at the end of the scene here doesn't feel like pure nastiness - it feels like desperation. It feels like her lashing out with the worst possible thing she can think to say because if she hurts Ai, if Ai actually shows that Nino's words reach her at all, if Ai's human enough for Nino to hurt then…

But, well. We already know how this all turned out. Even so, like Kana said… Ai's smile is suffocating.

Speaking of Kana, this was a damn good chapter for her. A lot of people seem to have interpreted her as getting 'lost' in the role of Nino but going by this chapter's portrayal, Kana seems to have a much healthier distance from her than Ruby does to Ai right now (BUT WE'LL GET TO THAT….), being literally portrayed as viewing the scene as if from a distance. I do think her empathizing with Nino is allowing her to examine and get out some of the hurt and resentment that's been bubbling away since Black Hoshigan Ruby but things are being so infinitely more complicated by everything else going on around this split.

Speaking of which… whoooooooof, Ruby. Her levelling up her understanding of Ai was uh, not quite as good for her as I'd previously thought. It's important to note that this is pretty clearly Ruby's feelings that she is projecting onto Ai: in 45510, Ai herself explicitly says that she never hated the B-Komachi girls and Ruby blurting this out here feels like a very pointed contrast to that. It's pretty clear to me that we're coming back around to something established during the preproduction phase: that this material is quite literally triggering for Ruby and it's damaging for her to be engaging with it.

… which is why it's so, so scummy for Gotanda to be pushing this. I'm holding back on really going into what I'm thinking of Gotanda right now because I want to see if/how the manga addresses this but I'll just say that I'm coming away from this part of the story feeling much more sour about him than I think I'm intended to. It's possible that this is just because I'm fresh off hearing Jeanette McCurdy's horrific account of how damaging this kind of acting was to her as a child but… I find it really hard to like and get behind a director who is purposely letting his actors endure intense psychological suffering for the sake of His Vision lol

After all, like… for all that he talks about wanting to film 'the true Ai', this Ruby freakout is not that! That's Ruby, snapping under the strain of the pressure put on her. Even if you want to argue Ai felt similar strain… is her restraint and her grace and patience in not giving out under it not also 'real'? Why does authenticity necessitate turning Ai's ugly feelings into a spectacle? Why does Gotanda think he has the right to make calls on what is 'authentic' here?

I'd say "who died and made him king" but that's the point, isn't it? Ai died. She's not here anymore to make calls about her identity and the people who are here and who are in a position to do so aren't actually doing it with care and consideration or proper respect for her memory. This movie has been touched by so many people who have their own agendas, who did not know anything about Ai and quite frankly have no right to be making calls about who she really was and what she really felt. 15 Year Lie is an utterly ghoulish production and nobody is coming out of it clean.

[ash5monster01]

Getaway Camp : Eight

Pairing: Charlie Dalton x OC!FemReader

Warnings: 18+, mentions of abuse, neglect, mentions of infertility, alcohol use, language, foreplay, sexual innuendos, physical attraction, illusions of smut.

Summary: After spending a day with Ezra, Charlie finds himself in an unlikely place with Valerie but it turns out to be one of the best nights of his life.

word count: 3.1k

Masterlist

Seven ���→ Nine

June 30th 1961

It’s a cool morning, colder than normal, more than likely considering the storm from the night before. Charlie didn’t even make it a step out his cabin before pulling on a sweatshirt. His rowers had gotten good enough he had started to join them and for the first time in his life he actually looked forward to sport than viewing it as a chore. Best part was he got to see Valerie on her lifeguard post every time he passed the dock. It was the best way to spend his mornings. Nothing could make his day better. Other than when he was actually with her.

“Gosh, you haven’t lost that dopey grin once since that girl kissed you” Ezra says from his easy chair. Since it was a chillier day, Charlie somehow found himself in the man’s cabin, helping build a puzzle to pass the time.

“Sorry Ezra, just been a long time since I was happy about something” Charlie tells him earnestly and the older man gives him a sad smile, feeling awful for the hectic life he already had lived. So young and so hurt by the world already.

"Well it's good at your age to be happy about a girl, it's healthy even. Sounds like you got a good one too" Ezra points out as he places another puzzle piece where it belongs. Charlie smiles and nods, already counting down the minutes until she finished her shift and he could snuggle up in his cabin with her. Especially on this cool and rainy day. Yet he wouldn't be surprised if she had some sort of party in mind, enough kisses from her pouty lips and big sad eyes, and he would cave.

"I did, actually surprised I got so lucky" Charlie says, a soft blush on his cheeks. Sixteen year old Charlie viewed woman as objects, something to obtain, and now it was so different. He appreciated Valerie, adored her even. If he ever dared disrespect her he's not sure he could live with himself.

“I’m not, good young men like you always deserve a kind young woman by their side” Ezra tells him with an earnest look, an honesty and strength behind his words.

“I’m not that good” Charlie mutters and Ezra snorts.

“Is anyone boy? We just do our best, it’s the ones who learn from their mistakes that make them good” he says with the point of his finger and Charlie thinks of his father. The man he should be free from and yet there was still that part of him that worked diligently to make him proud and still came up short.

Ezra sees the forlorn look on the boys face, the crease in his brow as he struggles with his emotions. He didn’t know much about the boy, just that he had a hard home life and had been kicked out of school. It wasn’t hard to tell he battled something so much deeper and that was a hard thing to do on your own. So he dared a change of topic. “You hear from your folks at all?”

Charlie flashes a look of surprise, not expecting the question. It takes a few moments for his brain to catch up with what he had just asked. “Just my Mom, I called the day I got here and a few more times after that. I figure I won’t ever hear from my Father again”

“You will, even if it’s something you don’t want to hear. He’s hard on you because he cares, you know that right?” Charlie feels immediately defensive, almost angry this man in front of him is defending his father’s actions. The man who had emotionally abused him his entire life, gave him a sense of worthlessness he still couldn’t shake.

“If he cared he’d call” Charlie sneers, slamming a puzzle piece into place and feeling an anger boil inside him that he hadn’t had in a long time.

“Look, I don’t know him personally, but if I had to guess he’s probably afraid to call in fear of rejection” Charlie scoffs at the notion, damn right amused by the suggestion. His father, king of stocks, afraid.

“Afraid of me, rejecting him? All he’s ever done is reject me. Ship me off to boarding schools, forget me on Holidays, refuse to comfort me when my best friend died. He don’t give a shit that he hasn’t heard from me” Ezra freezes at his words, not knowing all of this. Not knowing the boy probably lost the one person who loved him as he was.

“If I were to guess he probably didn’t know how to face all of that, face you. Angry fathers were once forgotten young men too” Charlie sighs with the shake of his head, dropping his eye line to salmon colored carpet in the living room.

“Yeah well, me and my Dad may never agree and I’ve accepted that. No use fighting for something I finally got to leave behind" Charlie mutters and Ezra takes his defiance as a suggestion to leave it alone for now. After all he never had a chance to be a father but he couldn't gurantee he wouldn't of screwed up just like Charlie's father did. Maybe not as bad and in a world where he did have kids, he hoped that didn't deem him a bad one.

"I just hope you don't come to regret that decision" Ezra says before taking a sip from his cup of coffee and picking up a fresh puzzle piece to hopefully find a place for. Much like Charlie just looking for somewhre to belong, a stray piece to a puzzle, hoping he might fit in the world. Charlie stays silent, reeling in his words and trying to fight the anger he feels. Especially the anger towards the older man who clearly just had good intentions. He wanted more control of his emotions especially since they were the very thing that turned his life upside down when Neil had died. The very thing that led him to hit Cameron with all his might.

“Hey what do you say to me meeting this girl sometime though, I’m sick and tired of watching you blush over her. Might as well make her dinner?” Ezra says after a while and Charlie can’t help the smile that cracks across his face.

“Yeah okay, I’ll see if she wants to do dinner” Charlie agrees and Ezra gives a wide smile, hand reaching to clap over his shoulder before focusing his attention back on the puzzle in front of him. This one much easier to figure out than Charlie.

When Charlie makes the trek back to staff camp the heavy clouds begin to drizzle rain. When he’s safe in his cabin it’s finally coming down, dampening the entire camp, and justifying the drop in temperature from the day. Andy is no where to be found, probably in Alice’s cabin and already drinking for the night. A party lifestyle Charlie never thought he’d struggle to keep up with. Either way he hoped Valerie wouldn’t drag him to some campfire he had to get soaked at.

“Ah that came from no where!” the girls squeals, barreling through his cabin door and dripping water. Charlie laughs from his bed, until he spots the denim dress on her form. She so beautiful he’s sure he’ll never get used to it.

“Oh Val, you don’t seriously want to hang out in the rain tonight do you?” he asks and she rolls her eyes, pushing the wet hair away from her face before sliding off her sandals.

“Not exactly” she says, sauntering towards him slowly and making sure he had a perfect view of the cleavage she had on display. It would come in her favor for what she was about to say next.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks as she plops beside him, leaning forward with a mischievous smile. Taking her time as she presses a soft and sweet kiss against his lips.

“What do you say to going to the Hideout tonight?” she asks and Charlie’s so lost in the taste of her it takes him a moment to process. When the question finally hits him his eyes widen, hands reaching to squeeze at her waist.

“And why would you want to do that? You said the Hideout was for lonely people looking for a dance and someone to take home” Charlie says and Valerie giggles, leaning against him.

“Yes but other campers can still go too. Besides I only want to dance with you tonight and take you home. Plus I’m all dolled up, would be a waste if I didn’t get to show it off” Charlie blushes at her suggestion, the image of keeping her in this cabin tonight entirely too taunting.

“Fine but you really should only be showing off for me” Charlie fake pouts and Valerie kisses it away, making the boy roll his eyes. He gives a soft squeeze to her waist, indicating for her to stand which she complies. On his way up he lands a soft smack to her butt before walking to the tall dresser in search of a different shirt.

“Wear that sexy black one again” Valerie coos, snaking her arms around his waist from behind as he digs through the drawer. Charlie snorts but finds the T-shirt anyway. Who would he be to say no to her?

“You gonna take it off this time?” Charlie asks, mostly teasing and Valerie breaks away from him, smirking as he changes the shirt.

“Guess you’ll have to wait and see Ace” she winks and the boy laughs before reaching for the liquor bottle on the desk. Andy must’ve taken the other one so Charlie settles for a long swig before passing it to the gorgeous girl.

“The only way I’ll survive this is with a buzz so drink up V” he tells her and Valerie furrows her eyebrows as she swigs the bottle anyway. Charlie’s tolerance had become much better since the first day of camp.

“Plan on forgetting it all?” she asks, hoping the boy actually looked forward to spending the night with her and not wiping it away with an excessive amount of alcohol and no recollection of her tomorrow.

“Absolutely not, any moment with you I want to remember forever. This is more for the sting of embarrassment I feel every time I see Nate trying to flirt with other women and Chrissy cry about it” Valerie snorts, loving him even more for this answer. How he had picked up on everything so quickly she didn’t understand but she appreciated having someone other than Levi to finally share this all with.

“Fair, now let’s go I want to dance!” she cheers, tucking the liquor bottle under her arm and hand reaching out for his own. Charlie just laughs as he takes it and allows the girl to drag him out of the cabin. The closer they get to the Hideout the easier it is to hear the loud music from inside. Flickers and pink and blue lights flash outside the gaps of the cabin. The outside itself was already intimidating enough but when Valerie has already started to shake her hips, and her hand squeezes his own, he follows her inside without question.

“No shit, Valerie in the Hideout” Nate greets them loudly over the music the second they come through the door. Valerie rolls her eyes and tugs Charlie a bit closer.

“I wanted to dance” she tells her friend, looking for any excuse because the last time she had been in the Hideout she made a decision she regretted immediately. The fact it all turned out okay would never not shock her. Now no mistakes could be made, she could dirty dance with her camp boyfriend and pretend the big question wasn’t looming overhead. The desire to know what would happen to them once camp was over.

“Isn’t that always the excuse?” Nate leans down and asks and based on the way Valerie’s jaw clenches Charlie knows Nate just struck a nerve. Suddenly her hand tightens against his own and starts to drag him towards the center of the dance floor.

“Bye Nate” she mutters, hazel eyes fading into a dark brown. Charlie glances between to two but decides it’s better not to ask. When they reach the center of the crowd Valerie is quick to weave her hand around Charlie’s neck and take another sip from the liquor bottle she had smuggled in.

“You okay?” Charlie asks and Valerie gives a curt nod, moving to set the bottle upon a table nearby before weaving her other hand around him.

“Yes now let’s dance, I wanna see what kind of moves you got Dalton” she says, that same teasing smile finally back on her face and Charlie laughs, his hands settling on her waist.

“I have to warn you, I’m not much of a dancer. Going to an all boys school didn’t provide many dancing opportunities” he tells her and Valerie giggles, the image of a younger Charlie having to dance with another boy amusing her to no end.

“Even if you had, it wouldn’t have been this kind of dancing” she says, head tipping to the crowd and Charlie finally glances around the room. Recognizing the faces of some staff and others not so much, huddled close to their partners, bodies flush together. Charlie can’t help the way his ears tint pink, suddenly feeling like he’s accidentally seen an intimate moment between two other people.

“You’re right, Nolan would’ve never let this fly” and even though Valerie doesn’t know who Nolan is she can only assume it’s someone from his school that had left a strong enough impression. One strict enough that it was his first thought.

“Well what do you say, few more drinks and some dancing?” and even if Charlie isn’t sure the kind of dancing she’s referring to is much like the dirty one he was seeing now, he agrees anyway just for the chance it might be.

As the night progresses and the drinks flow, Charlie comes to find that Valerie isn’t shy on the dance floor at all. He had to count to ten, and try to remember the Presidents in order, just to avoid a hard on at least six times so far. Yet her once wild and damp hair was now wild and curly, soft against his neck while her body was flush against his. She smelled like strawberries and was so warm, it was hard not to imagine her different ways. When she turns and presses her ass straight against his crotch, he’s sure he’s done for.

“You need to relax” Valerie tells him, guiding his hands to her stomach and rib cage. Charlie tries to loosen up, but now with him holding her steady she grinds herself softly back into him, and no amount of presidents or numbers could get him to calm down. Not even the image of Nolan in his underwear.

“I can’t, in fact you might have to walk in front of me on the way out of here” Charlie whispers into her ear and Valerie smiles wide, continuing her movements, knowing exactly what she was doing.

“I don’t mind” Valerie whispers back, voice heavy with lust, and Charlie knows she can feel exactly what’s happening to him right now. Yet instead of shying away Valerie grinds her ass against his length, enjoying to way he stiffens behind her. If there was a version of both heaven and hell, this would be it.

“I should’ve known” Charlie says, a soft growl into her neck and suddenly Valerie feels like a weak mess. Not expecting the possessiveness from him. The way his large hands grasp her body and pull her back into him, how he softly and slowly grinds his hard on against her. She can’t help how her thighs clench together, trying to hide how badly she needs him too. Trying to distract herself she settles into the music, finding a rhythm with his hips, hands lifting behind her and sliding into his hair as his lips find her neck in a hot kiss.

For the first time all night the pair are on the same page, drunk off of each other and the liquor flowing through their veins. There’s no worries about the future or the past. It’s just the two of them, falling in love, and coming to understand one another’s bodies. So when Valerie turns to face him, Charlie pulls her close, mostly to hide his situation, and press his lips against her own. Charlie shamelessly kisses the girl, tongue curling against her own, and memorizing the taste of her. She pulls gently at his hair and suddenly regrets even coming here tonight with the fire so strong between them. They should be alone.

“God where have you been all my life” Charlie breathlessly chuckles when her lips find his neck and she smiles against his skin, knowing she felt the exact same way.

“Waiting for the right moment” is the only response she gives and Charlie smiles, arms coiling around her waist and holding her close in a tight hug.

“What do you say to eating dinner some time with a favorite camper of mine, he’s dying to meet you?” Charlie finds the courage to ask and Valerie giggles, knowing this is quite possibly a version of Charlie wanting her to meet his parents. Show off the girl to someone special, make it more serious.

“I’d be happy too, just give me a day and time” she tells him and Charlie kisses her again, a happiness swelling in his chest that he hadn’t felt in a very long time. The old him climbing the surface and feeling safe again. Charlie couldn’t help but hope this would never change, that the bubble would never burst, and he could stay in this moment forever. Comfortable and happy with someone all over again. It was scary, undoubtedly, but it was also familiar. Like coming home after a long time and knowing that for one moment everything would be okay.

For Charlie he never really had a home and until this moment he never realized for him, home had always been the people he loved. He hadn’t been home ever since Neil died and he got kicked out school. Yet at this very moment, tucked in Valerie’s arms and dancing without a care in a world, he was home again and it didn’t feel as empty. This time, it felt like no matter what happened he would turn out okay. He wasn’t broken, at least not anymore.

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[gayofthefae]

Thinking about pacing and how it's why I became a Byler.

If Mike and El were endgame, the pacing of season 4 would be....weird.

Normally conflict and confrontation is climactic, ESPECIALLY simultaneous conflict that "all crashes down on you". That's built up separately as A and B plots that intersect, this point of intersection being Mike.

Which is why I was so surprised when Will and Mike fought and had to pause it and go, "wait, what's happening?" Before that point I was worried that the season conflict was veering towards pitting Will and El against each other over Mike based on the tension at the rink - I naturally assumed that it was setting up the season arc with the current events that would continue until a 3rd act payoff, but it wasn't.

Will calls Mike out immediately and El calls him out the next day. Leaving the rest of the season empty. It's why Mike's final speech doesn't work. The plot was not maintained. It was a setup and payoff much like the painting, which I forgot about by the time he pulled it out might I add. We do not follow either Mike nor El's point of views on this plot, with only one even ACKNOWLEDGING it.

It doesn't. Make. Sense. At least not for my original prediction. Which is why I paused it, and thought:

If Will is calling Mike out now that means he won't ignore him for the rest of the season. Then what will the central conflict be? Will has said what he needs to say. Mike clearly has not, though, so this is more of a setup for him, but a setup for what? Will has nowhere to go from here because he has already reached the peak of this arc, demonstrating the vulnerability self-assuredness required for this honestly AND there is nothing for him as a person to follow this up with. The ball is in Mike's court to apologize. So the ball is in Mike's court for this plotline, this scene is an inciting incident for Mike, but for what? In this scene, he contrasts Will's honesty by being closed off and defensive, so his arc is to truth, but what truth? What secret would be threatened by Will's accusations of- OHHHHHHHHHHH

Will got too close, Mike got defensive, and his season arc is gaining the courage and vulnerability to explain himself. Got it. (We're not done)

2 episodes later: he apologizes and explains with vulnerability - WHAT? Okay, but he still hasn't told him how he feels so they're just pacing it differently, we mentally adjust. He is building up to telling him no longer with the stakes of his relationship to Will but rather the urgency of owing El an explanation/decision by the time he sees her again, one which he would likely tell Will first. The stakes are the commitment and pain he causes the longer he stalls. He needs to confess by the time he sees her again. Yes. He seems to be slowly working it out, coming back to the "why" repeatedly, and Will is giving him coded words - not enough to be a confession from Will and he has already demonstrated his honesty (the van scene is really just an inciting incident for the Jonathan coming out scene as far as Will's plot goes) - that he's reacting to and are perfect to be the tipping point for his motivation. And he's looking between El and Will with a strange expression. And he's......(I kinda just sat confused for a while until I got to the end and realized it was supposed to be a cliffhanger for the first time and also that there was a season 5, at which point I sat further before understanding that this was a multi-season arc because season 4 had themes of subverted happy endings into tragedy)

I had to adjust it with little tweaks throughout but only ever in pacing, never in event. But if I got it 2 hours into a 13 hour season, I'm sure they'll catch up in the next 8.