#it kinda have a little stranger things feel to it

[hyukascampfire]

U JUMPED UP N CLICKED YOUR HEELS WHEN I FOLLOWED, I JUMPED UP AND CLICKED MY HEELS WHEN I SAW THIS REBLOG. omg.

hehe. world building is my favorite part. especially since my fics lean toward fantasy,, i always try to make it all immersive and believable!!

literally was not aware there was even a plural for geas, i had to dance around it while writing. why didn’t i think to look that up…😓 ANYWAY YES taehyun is definitely gravitational right off the bat. for me, at least. he is stiff and cold, but i don’t think that he necessarily falls into the typical fantasy brooding mmc category. especially after part two, i think his character begins to develop those layers that makes him who he is. i can’t say that he’s not brooding or cold, but i think it comes from a different place. i absolutely agree that he really does embody cold. not going to lie, after working on his character for so long, he’s the first thing i associate with him.

AND YES yeonjun as warmth by sunlight is so correct. he’s not necessarily flames, but more like sunlight on your skin after being cold for so long. he’s so gentle with MC in a way that she hasn’t known,, i’d be the same girl. IM SO HAPPY TO SEE SOMEONE ROOTING FOR YEONJUN JUST A LITTLE BIT. not because i’m biased,, cause of course i have two hands,, BUT ITS JUST BEEN SO LONG. this nation is gripped by taehyun. he always destroys yeonjun in the polls 😭

W yeonjun, writing him came so easy. i still vividly remember the moment i wrote the introduction to his character. omg. he just had a personality that STICKJKJS with you. he is magnetic, and i lowkey feel whimsy even while writing him. he’s just so sensual and intimate on so many different levels. i’d probably give up my mf life for him too.

i also really do adore MC. she’s very multi-faceted. she’s not necessarily always strong or upright, but she has her own set of morals and honestly just wants so little. it kinda sucks that what she does finally allow herself to ask for puts her in the situations it does. i feel a great amount of sympathy for her. i also am a person that thinks that emotion and being in touch with it is strong in its own right, and i absolutely get MC for searching for it.

SLOW BURNNN that’s my shit. waiter, pls give me yearning and fleeting touch for a hundred thousand more words! im not stranger to a 5k pwp and i thoroughly enjoy writing those (yum.) but i truly do love the word ‘almost’, and letting characters ache for each other. mmm. i’m a hoe for jealousy, but with taehyun it is especially different. i just do not know how to put it into words except for 😻💦🤲

the people love beomgyu, that silly forest creature. i’ve grown so attached to his character as well. he really is holding up the found family end of this fic all on his own. his power 😭

thank you so much for giving me this beautiful rb to read and giggle over as well. i adore you so much NEXT PART NEXT PART 🍽️

𝓘N WHICH 〃 a life lived as a human among the fae is one hard-earned. the folk are built of indescribable beauty, and of debauchery and mischief. for some, a life lived subservient to the folk is just fine; but to those who dream of something more, they would spend their lives clawing and biting to make it happen.

you, looking for a way to escape a life as a faerie’s human servant, put a new foot forward thinking that any life could be better than that. but, when your first assignment as a king’s spy is alongside a brooding, icy faerie man, you begin to wonder what your place in this foreign world really could be.

wc ➳ 93.3k﹙ and counting! ﹚

genre high fantasy/faerie, smut, angst ˒ ˒

pairings faerie!taehyun x reader, faerie!yeonjun x reader

warnings violence, death, death of animals, smut (specific tags will be listed before each chapter), childhood trauma & mentions of abuse, jealousy, controlling & yandere relationship dynamics, unprotected sex, original characters but they only last for small amounts of time & act as story catalysts, fem! reader

˒ ˒ want a look into the world? here’s the pinterest board !! ༘⋆

﹙ 🪕﹚ playlists ⑊ yeonjun ˒ taehyun ˒ series

: ̗̀﹙❆﹚𝓅arts . : ↘︎

one ˒ two ˒ three ˒ four ˒ five ˒ ...🪶

© hyukascampfire please do not steal, plagiarize, or repost any of my works.

[koiiiji]

it's occasionally, cupcake

author's note ; awfully mediocre trope and ooc, and kinda lovesick Jason Todd. but we all like it sometimes right? 🥹

˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚

the city was wrapped in its usual blanket of gloom, a frozen, gray morning where every breath turned to mist. Gotham’s skyline disappeared into the low-hanging clouds, and the streets glistened with a thin layer of frost. it was the kind of morning that made leaving the warmth of your bed feel like a cruel punishment.

Jason was no stranger to mornings like this. Gotham’s chill had a way of seeping into your bones, a constant reminder of how harsh and cold this city was. as he pulled the door to his apartment shut, he heard the faint click of your door across the hall. turning, he saw you locking up, your scarf wrapped tightly around your neck, shielding your face from the bitter air. you offered him a small smile, one he returned with a nod.

“morning,” you said, your breath visible in the cold air.

“morning,” he replied, his voice a little rough from sleep. the two of you stepped into the hallway together, your footsteps echoing faintly on the tiles. Jason’s heart thudded just a little too fast — a reaction he’d never admit to anyone.

the elevator dinged as it arrived, and the two of you stepped inside. it was a small, creaky box that always seemed like it might give out at any moment. the silence between you was comfortable, but Jason couldn’t stop glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. you were scrolling through your phone, seemingly oblivious to his presence, but he was hyper-aware of yours.

“cold out there,” he said, breaking the silence.

you looked up and smiled again. “yeah. makes me wish i could call in sick.”

he grunted nervously. “Gotham doesn’t really do snow days, huh?”

the elevator doors slid open, and you stepped out. “have a good day, Jason” you said over your shoulder,smiling softly at him, as you headed toward the lobby doors.

“you too,” Jason called after you, watching as you disappeared into the gray morning. the warmth you left behind lingered, and he stood there for a moment longer, awkwardly scratching the back of his head and covering his face with his palms, emitting an exhausted moan, before heading right into the cold of the Gotham streets for his own day.

˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚

Jason’s mind wandered as he patrolled the city later that night. he couldn’t help but think about how you occupied his thoughts more and more. he remembered the first time he saw you move into the same building he lived in. your arms were full of boxes, and you were clearly struggling. honestly, he wasn't happy about new neighbors back then, and had offered to help just because he passing by and didn't want to seem rude. and he remembered the way you’d smiled at him — bright and genuine — had stuck with him ever since. over time, you’d settled into a quiet rhythm as neighbors, and Jason can't be more happy about quite neighbor! the last thing he needed is a loud next door neighbor who wouldn't let him sleep after rough night.

he remembered how sometimes, when the elevator in your shitty building was broken, he’d help you carry your groceries up the stairs without a word of complaint. he didn't want to be rude. right? no silly crushes. but each small interaction chipped away at the walls he’d built around himself, and though he’d never admit it, he started looking forward to those moments.

it wasn’t long before he gave up and realized he had a crush. well… Roy wouldnt stop making joking and taunting him. he hated the word crush actually — it sounded too juvenile. what the actual fuck 'crush' even means?

but he couldn’t deny the way his heart raced when you were near, or how he caught himself hoping for an excuse to talk more with you. yet, every time he thought about asking you out — even just for coffee — his courage failed him. what could someone like you see in someone like him? who he even was in everyday life? who he was aside the Red Hood? so, he settled for proximity, for stolen glances and brief conversations in the hallway.

˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚

the sound of gunfire snapped him back to reality. Jason’s jaw clenched as he pushed himself harder, his boots pounding against the icy roof surface. he and Roy had been tracking a gang member that had dare to managed to steal some of Jason’s weapons and percentage from the latest deal with a gang. it was more personal now, and Jason wasn’t going to let him get away.

he rounded a corner and went down into the alley just in time to see the thug veer off, darting toward the residential district.

Jason followed, but his adrenaline spiking when he saw you. you were crossing the street, bundled up against the cold, completely unaware of the chaos barreling toward you. before Jason could warn you, the thug slammed into you, knocking you and him to the ground. the thug quickly came to his senses and cursing under his breath, crawled up to you, pressing your back against his chest and pressing a knife to your throat.

“stay back!” the man shouted, his eyes wild as he tightly held your both hands behind you and pressed knife harder.

Jason froze, his chest tightening. the sight of the blade so close to your skin made his blood boil, but he forced himself to stay calm. he raised his hands slowly, his voice steady despite the storm raging inside him.

“let her go,” Red Hood said, his tone low and dangerous.

the thug laughed nervously. “stay back, or i —”

he didn’t get to finish. with one sharp movement, Red Hood pulled a pistol from behind his back and a bullet whistled right by your ear. blood splattered on your face with a thin red drops and the man fell dead behind you. you froze, not daring to move, the shock of having a knife held to your throat a second ago still raging in your blood.

“you okay?” Jason asked, his voice muffled by the helmet as he glanced back at you. you were sitting on the ground, wide-eyed but unharmed.

“y-yeah,” you stammered, your breath hitching as you tried to process what had just happened and who actually stood in front of you.

Red Hood glanced down on you, offering a gloved hand to help you up.

you took his hand, your fingers trembling slightly. “thank you… Red Hood, right?”

“that’s me,” he said, smirking under the helmet. “c’mon. let’s get you home,” trying to sound nonchalant, Jason let go of your hand.

the walk to your apartment was quiet, save for your occasional sniffles as the cold air stung your face. you still were processing what just happened and who accompany you on your way home.

Jason, in his turn, tried to keep his composure, but under the helmet, his face was burning. his heart pounded as he stole glances at you, praying you couldn’t hear how nervous he was.

when you reached your building, you turned to him, offering a nervous small smile despite the night’s events. “thank you… again. i-i don’t know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t shown up.”

Jason shrugged, trying to play it cool. “just doing my job.”

you hesitated, then added, unsure and ready to be shooted in same second “isn't you… a criminal…too?.. or s-something.”

Jason’s heart stuttered, but he forced a confident chuckle and said. “it's occasionally, cupcake”

with that, he turned and disappeared into the shadows, the cool night air doing little to soothe the heat on his face. under the helmet, Jason was grinning like a fool.

[shadowsandsunset]

Ok, ok, I know this is pedantic, but in Stranger Things fanfictions when Eddie is selling weed and they give absolutely outlandish prices, not just for the 80s but for today too, it makes me laugh and disengage with the narrative.

Below the cut is some information that will help you write about Eddie selling weed. I've been around stoner culture for over 20 years at this point so feel free to ask questions.

Eddie is NOT charging $25 for a joint in 1986. Eddie would not be charging more than a few dollars at most for a joint in 1986 since you could get an ounce for $100 or less back then. An ounce makes about 56 joints of about half gram size. Now blunts, on the other hand, would be a little more expensive as they contain more weed, and you could get about 28 blunts of about a gram each. There are 28.35g in an ounce but most stoners just say 28g to an ounce.

So, he'd charge $2-3 a joint, and $4-5 a blunt, depending on his own markup.

A joint is rolled in white rolling papers, kinda like the thin sheets of a bible or like those oil blotting papers for makeup. Job or Raw are popular brand options.

A blunt is rolled in brown cigarillo paper, sometimes mixed with tobacco but not always. Think Swisher Sweets or Dutch Masters or Zigzag...you can Google those if you need.

Weed, by itself, is usually sold by quarter or half or full ounces but can also be sold by the gram. Usually, it costs just a bit more to buy by the gram because it's more work for the dealer. So, Eddie would have to be somewhat good at math and doing math on the fly. He'd also have a scale to measure it out with.

Weed is sold in a variety of containers, but the most common is cheap sandwich baggies. The 100 for $1 ones. Usually twisted and tied with a knot. You can also find dealers who use shopping bags, jars, paper towels and more depending on what they have on hand. From what we see in the show, Eddie uses cheap sandwich bags.

Eddie also wouldn't be selling high quality weed. He's probably selling "mid" or mid-grade weed. He might on occasion sell dirt/ditch weed, which is lower quality usually with seeds and stems instead of just bud/flower. He would probably not have access to loud/high tier weed. However, Argyle would, being from California, which was at the time, and remains, a stoner's paradise.

Ok, I'm going to end this here but if you have any questions please ask! Accurate fanfiction scratches my ND brain.

[etclouie]

heart to heart

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 — summary; being fwb before he goes to jail, and it continues on after he gets out, but you have a heart to heart talk after visiting him (Oscar ‘Spooky’ Diaz x fem!reader)

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 — warnings; aftermath of sex, talk of being naked, typical ‘what are we?’ scenario kinda, friends with benefits relationship, uh that’s it i think

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 — word count; 1.2k

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 — a/n; i’m so in love with this man

misc masterlist | main masterlist like spooky? join my taglist !

since Oscar got out of jail, you’d been at his place a lot more. your arrangement taking a more serious turn than you had expected, but you weren’t entirely complaining.  

now, you were both laying in his bed. his arm around your waist to hold you tight against his side while your head lay on his shoulder, hand trailing across his chest absentmindedly. 

the remnants of your encounter still lingered in the air, bodies still sweat-slicked and warm. but the unresolved tension between you both lingered too, the unspoken words and the what ifs plaguing both of your thoughts. 

the steady beat of his heart was like a fleeting moment of peace, away from the troubles of everything— but Oscar couldn’t help but wonder how long it would last. 

the scent of your perfume lingered, filling his senses as he rested his chin on the top of your head. a soft sigh leaving him as your fingers traced across the crucifix around his neck, the gold pendant glimmering in the light. 

he couldn’t remember when you first started to toy with the chain, but he’d never stop you. it was almost ritualistic now, and he found it endearing. maybe it was the way you would look up at him when you did it, eyes soft, gentle and unburdened. a stark contrast to him. 

after a beat, your voice broke the silence, low and slightly hesitant. 

“you ever think about making things serious?”

you asked, almost absentmindedly as if the question had slipped out without you fully realising it. 

Oscar stiffened, his fingers twitching where they rested on your hip. he hadn’t expected you to go there, not now and especially not after everything. 

his mind raced, a thousand thoughts spinning all at once. 

serious? with you? with anyone?

he was no stranger to complicated relationships, hell he was the king of complicated. but something about you, the way you smiled at him like you understood the things he didn’t say, the way you made him feel lighter even on his darkest days — it made the idea of ‘serious’ seem less like a burden and more like a choice. 

but all of that didn’t mean he was ready to talk about it, not yet. 

his thumb brushed over your shoulder, a soft and casual movement that didn’t match the weight of the conversation. 

he kept his gaze trained on the ceiling, trying to collect himself. 

“serious, huh?”

he muttered, his voice gruff though there was no anger in it, just uncertainty. 

he never got angry with you, never let himself. you didn’t deserve to see him like that, even if this was only sex with a little extras. 

you nodded slowly, still playing with his crucifix. tilting the pendant and letting it catch in the light, before letting it lay against his chest again. 

“i know you’re not really all about that, but i like being around you Oscar. i like this”

you gestured between you both, the intimacy of your closeness and the silence that settled between you when words couldn’t express what you both meant. 

he let out a breath, trying to sound indifferent but it was hard to mask the edge of vulnerability in his voice. 

especially with the fact you called him Oscar, instead of Spooky. it was only you and his brother that called him Oscar, meaning he’d let you in more than he’d already thought.

“you don’t have to worry about that, we’re good. just.. keep it chil, yeah?”

your hand lay just below his chain, sighing and laying your head on his chest again. 

“i don’t know if i can keep it chill, Oscar. not when i feel like this”

absentmindedly, your fingers twisted the crucifix again. he let out another breath, pulling his gaze from the ceiling as you spoke again. voice softer this time. 

“i want more, not just.. what we’ve got”

Oscar swallowed, his chest tightening. the room felt smaller now, the air heavier. 

he should’ve been glad you were finally saying what he didn’t know how to ask for, but the fear of getting too close was a long standing habit. 

relationships were messy. and he didn’t have the kind of patience that came with putting in the work. 

but if he’d be damned, there was something in your tone that made him question everything he thought he knew. 

“more?”

he asked, voice hoarse as he balanced on the line of uncertainty on navigating the conversation. 

“what does that even mean to you? like.. what are you asking for exactly?”

you smiled, a soft and patient smile that made something inside him ache. 

he watched as you sat up, still as curled into his side as you’d allow. hand splayed across his chest, and just shy of covering his heart. 

“i don’t know,”

you admitted, sounding a little embarrassed before you continued. 

“i don’t need all of your attention all the time, or.. or a ring or anything, but maybe just the possibility of something real. something that isn’t just us messing around in the dark”

Oscar felt the knot in his chest tighten. real. he hated that word because it always felt like some sort of an invitation for disappointment, but damn it, he also knew that somewhere deep down a part of him was hungry for exactly that kind of honesty. 

starving for it even. 

he lifted his hand and pulled yours from his chest, holding it in his own while his thumb soothed across your knuckles. 

“you want serious, huh?”

he repeated, his voice a little quieter now, as if he was weighing the words before they left his mouth. 

“i ain’t perfect. i got a lot of baggage, and im not sure if i know how to be that guy.. you want me to be”

the last part came out quieter than the rest of it, embarrassed to have admitted the truth of what he felt deep down. 

you looked up at him, eyes soft but searching. lacing your fingers and running your thumb across his knuckles how he had just done with yours. 

“i don’t need you to be perfect, Osc. i just need you to be here”

there it was. 

that nickname you insisted on calling him. the one thing that had him crumbling quicker than your presence did, having to look away from you to keep the pink hue from painting his cheeks. 

his heart thudded in his chest and for the first time, he let the vulnerability show on his face. 

you were so damn sure of yourself and it made him question every he’d been telling himself about staying detached. 

he let out a long breath then turned his head to meet your gaze once more. his thumb brushed across your knuckles again, his grip tightening ever so slightly. 

“i don’t know what this is, ow what it’ll turn into. but i guess im willing to find out”

your smile deepened, and you leaned up to kiss him lightly on the cheek, as if to seal the unspoken promise between you both — before you caught his lips in an even softer kiss. 

for the first time in a long time, Oscar felt a glimmer of hope, a fleeting sense that maybe just maybe, real wasn’t so scary after all. 

reblogs are highly appreciated !

[aeferkssr]

♫ a night to remember - beabadoobee, laufey

soulmate au, slight royale au, kinda rushed, i got a stroke of inpriration and knew i had to get this out of me today or else it would of rotted in my drafts

the soft hum of conversation surrounds you and your friend, mualani, as you step into the cozy café. the scent of freshly brewed coffee and warm pastries wraps around you like a comforting hug. she has been telling you about this cafe for months now and now that finals are over, you finally have the time.

you order from the cashier — an iced matcha latte with cold foam and extra sweetner, you can't stand bitter things, and a croissant -- and settle into a small table by the window. as you wait for mualani to order hers, your vision gazes around the cozy atmosphere.

the menu written in chalk and accompanied by small seasonal drawings, the wooden chairs you were seated on and the soft jazz playing lowly on the speakers. the windchimes hung on the door outside that swayed and played a soft melody. you close your eyes to fully soak in the ambiance. opening your eyes when you felt the table shift under you, expecting it to be mualani.

and then, you notice him.

long hair tied up in a neat braid flows down his back, shaggy yet kept tufts of hair at the crown of his head. you can't make out the details of his outfit but he seems to be wearing a black band tee with loose fitting jeans. he looks down to his coffee that was just handed to him and he turns around.

you feel... awestruck. immediatly, your head rung with a plethora of questions: "who is that?" "what's he doing here?" and most confusingly, "why does he seem so.. familiar?"

said "familiar stranger" now stands in front of you, gesturing to the chair beside you.

"is this seat taken?" he asks. the round table had 4 chairs surrounding its circumference -- originally planned for you, mualani, and your bags -- so you nod and take your bag up. he places down his coffee and sits on the plush chair.

its a little awkward with a complete stranger sitting next to you, so you look to your phone, swiping between home screens to at least seem busy.

your bag falls from your lap as you shift in your seat. the both of you look down at the soft thud and reach down to pick it up, your hands slightly grazing each other. the both of your eyes meet, then the world starts to blur.

suddenly you've been taken into a grand ballroom, the moonlight illuminating the candle lit. ornate shades of gold and silver start to surround you as your enveloped fully. other couples sway and waltz around you to the live orchestra playing to the corner of the room.

you gaze down in front of you to the same person you had just locked eyes with prior, the stranger dons a suit of ivory and gold, a blazer perfectly draped over his shoulders, and an ebony tie to match with his shoes. his rich, golden hair styled out of his face.

he leans down to press a sincere kiss onto your gloved hand, never once breaking eye contact,

"what's a fine lady as yourself doing at this place?" he queries, his gentle hold on your hand never ceasing.

you hum "clearly you know not who you are talking to. this is the ball father has arranged for my hand."

his gave widens then softens within seconds, a small smile develops on his lips. his hand entangles with your own and he brings his other arm around your waist, bringing you closer to him.

"the, may i have the honour of dancing with you this evening?"

"certainly," you mumble under your breath. too lost in his enchanting titian eyes to notice your shift in location.

"great! so i'll see you tonight at 6?" he squeezes your palm, both his hands encompassing yours as he waits for a response.

you agree half-mindedly as he flashes you one last smile and exits the cafe, the windchimes ringing as he opens the door. you watch him as he walks further and further from you, feeling as if something is missing.

you look down to your palm, still warm (and a little clammy) from the previous interaction. you didn't have the time to process what the hell just happened before mualani hops to your side, yapping about gods knows what.

"helloooo?~ earth to besiteee?~" she says with a sing-song tone, that finally snaps you out of the clouded gaze at your hand.

"oh you're whipped, huh?" mualani teases as she lightly jabs your side, her eyebrows wiggling at the interaction you had with the handsome stranger.

"no way, 'lani. i literally just met the guy." you respond, walking back to the cafe counter to pick up your food.

your mind wonders again when your by yourself. that interaction you had with this stranger was so enchanting, like you could of sworn you've seen him before.

maybe in another lifetime, maybe.

© aeferkssr. don't copy, crosspost, translate my work without persmission.

[pooks]

okay, so i don't really advertise this because frankly, i do NOT agree with a fucking terf's ideas and therefore, she tainted a beloved book series she wrote and ultimately destroyed my childhood

but then i decided "fuck it, it's a fanfiction and she doesn't have any say in what i wrote or even make money of it"

also i made it gayer. so take that!

anyho, this is my HP/TMA 90s AU fanfiction that turned from a stand-alone story into a flippin series.

so imagine this; canon divergence happens in pre-OotP, Percy doesn't take Fudge's promotion offer (partly because that is sus, partly because web-related shenanigans) so he gets fired instead and what does our lovely ginger nerd find instead? the magnus institute.

so Elias takes a look at this boy and is like "yes, he will do nice for an Archivist" and hires him on the spot.

(and if case you're wondering, this is a TMA where it's set in the 1990s instead of the 2010s)

so we get an archive crew with four assistants and an archivist who has no idea what he's even doing, but he is determined and he needs to keep his wizard status as a secret

that's how this was created;

https://archiveofourown.org/series/3516304

ps. the second season-story is in progress. ;)

pps. i cannot stress this enough, but i DO NOT support the author in anyway and she can throw herself into the sun, for what i care. also i treat the characters better and i made it all better and gayer, because i can.

[manic-pixie-aquarius]

We moved on too quickly from the Rockie/Byler parallels

Still thinking about the fact that the conversation Byler has in the van where Mike is airing out his insecurities about his relationship with El exactly parallels the conversation Rockie have about Vickie's ex-boyfriend

Mike/Robin parallel: them looking completely dumbstruck saying "Cool." when things are indeed not "cool"

Mike/Vickie parallel: where Mike apologizes for his rant saying "sorry, it's so stupid given everything that's going on" and Vickie says "sorry, I'm rambling about my boyfriend when there are people out there suffering"

And of course, the scene where Mileven reunite and when they break apart Will is centered between them...mirroring the scene where Robin sees Vickie and her boyfriend at the supply store, and they kiss and when they break apart, she is visibly upset

(Sorry this is the only gif I could find including the part where Will is visible) Anyways peep the fact that Jonathan is also in this scene but not in view in this particular gif + Steve viewing this from an outsiders view with the knowledge that Robin is queer/has a crush on Vickie just like Jonathan knows Will is queer/has a crush on Mike

Extra proof of this: Steve n Jonathan witnessing Rockie n Byler conversations (of course Steve looks happy while Jonathan looks upset but like I am hoping and praying we get Jonathan witnessing happy mutual pining Byler next season🙏)

The parallels between Rockie and Byler are my favorite pieces of evidence when it comes to Byler being cannon...

[museumgiftshoperaser]

ok ok so... AU where Gareth is Steve’s younger brother??

Because Steve has ‘only child’ written all over him, but I think it would be fascinating if he had a sibling, especially a younger one.  Gareth is the black sheep of the family, likes the wrong sort of music, hangs out with the weird kids, plays that game all the news stations are saying is satanic. He’s three years younger than Steve, just a bit too much for them to ever be close, but really it’s their parents who drive a wedge between them. Steve’s their golden child. Good at sports, dating that Wheeler girl their parents love. He’s the poster boy for the all american teenager. In the eyes of their parents, Steve can do no wrong. Gareth stays out after his curfew? Grounded for two weeks. Steve throws a party when his parents are gone? Just don’t do it again, okay?  Needless to say the Harrington boys don’t really get along. Gareth is pissed that Steve gets away with everything. That their parents seem to actually like him, parade him around in front of their friends, keep his sports throphies on a shelf in the living room. When Gareth won a contest in middle school for a short story he wrote his parents didn’t even bat an eye. He keeps the little plaque he got for it in the bottom of his sock drawer, embarrased that he even cares. Within the walls of their house, Gareth doesn’t even get to be himself without feeling judged.  Steve on the other hand can’t help but envy his little brother. He’d never mention it of course, if anyone asks he can’t stand the little twerp. But it’s hard to miss that Gareth actually knows who he is. He has an opinion for himself and doesn’t seem to care how their parents feel about that. Steve can barely pick a shirt without worrying if their mother would approve. Gareth has friends who clearly care about him, a group of self proclaimed freaks who all clearly hate Steve. He has hobbies he actually likes and ideals he cares about.  So yeah... Steve’s kinda jealous sometimes.  Especially after Nancy breaks his heart. When he doesn’t get into college and his parents approval runs dry. When he can’t make it through a family dinner without questions about whatever happened to his potential. All the years of trying to impress their parents weren’t even worth it. And now the little brats he babysits have started high school and they won’t shut up about how cool his little brother is.

When both Steve’s status and his mental health start to slip, Gareth can’t help but feel a little bit bad. People don’t respect his older brother the way they used to and their parents no longer give a fuck about either of them. Good thing Gareth has years worth of experience being an outcast and a friend group that’s more than a little curious to find out whatever happened to the King of Hawkins High...

[msnihilist]

It is worth noting that I get a lot of anon hate, mostly insults and vague threats, but that's just the thing — I get anon hate.

By which I mean, no one gets anons about me. There's no call out post circulating about me.

There's nothing to say that I'm not very open about. Everyone who follows me and is friends with me is very much aware of what I write about and what kind of dynamics that I enjoy in fiction.

Anons don't tell other people that I'm a horrible person, they tell me that I'm a horrible person.

Because they know that I'm not. They just want me to hate myself.

[hubrishazard]

I'm overhearing some middle aged person in a coffee shop talking about the latest doctor who episode, and saying exactly the same thing we've all been saying 😭 they brought it up and I was like "oh here we go" and then they were like "I wish they hadn't said that stuff about the doctor not being able to understand due to being male presenting, that just reinforces the binary theyre trying to break out of" and "I wish Rose hadn't called out the doctor for assuming the meep's pronouns, the doctor should've just asked for the meep's pronouns without needing to be prompted to" and "I really agree with what they're trying to do, I just wish they'd handled it better" and then after complaining about it all they were like "idk... maybe some people do need to be hit upside the head with it". Like. I know this is just one stranger but it feels so heartening. They didn't see One (1) heavy handed episode and decide to be mad about the trans representation. Like maybe things really will be alright

[houseofwolvess]

ive been looking more into, like, the ghost (band) lore stuff because it's fun and all, but. WOW there's a lot of discourse over stupid shit. why are people so pressed about people nicknaming the ghouls

[skypiea]

I Have really been enjoying trigun stampede on It’s own merits but it is getting hard for me to keep from comparing it to the manga… seeing great elements from the manga I love incorporated but in a really rushed and Surface Level way is kinda a bummer

[horrorwebs]

fUUUUUUUIIICCCCCKCKCKKKCKCKCKCKCK

[the-bluestreak-cat]

I think it’s the seasonal darkness but this dental stuff feels like the last straw

[celestialmancer]

As much as I can take pride in how I can draw mouths well & how fun it is to do like unique stuff w that, I always am antsy that it'll end up getting me looked at weird for drawing them or get me weird unnecessary comments.........

[rafey-baby]

stepdad!rafe being gross about his stepdaughter…

c/w: stepcest, kinda angsty, slight somnophilia & some dubcon fingering, use of dad, 18+ mdni!

wc: 880

if u don’t like stuff like this pls scroll & read something else xx 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Her relationship with her stepdad has always been rather strange.  

But she’s never really minded, because it felt nice to have someone fill that hollow pit inside her, the one that’s always been there, haunting her ever since her father left when she was just a little girl. An itch she could never quite scratch.  

It didn’t help that her mother was never exactly present in her life either— always too busy with work or looking for solace from the bottom of a wine bottle or blaming her for everything wrong in her life.

She was sixteen when her mom brought Rafe home for the first time. And she never quite understood why he had married the woman in the first place— why he filed for divorce only after she’d moved out for uni, and not the moment he found out his wife wasn’t spending all those late nights in the office, but instead in the bed of a stranger.

However, she didn’t much care for his reasons because he’d always been more of a parent to her than the people who were supposed to. She always secretly wished he would’ve been her real dad— not just someone she assumed felt obligated to take her under his wing when he found out how horribly she’d been treated all her life.  

That’s why she never really paid too much attention to his lingering touches or the borderline controlling tendencies that always seemed to fizzle to the surface whenever she’d do something he deemed bad. She was just happy that she finally had someone who made her feel safe, protected. What more could she really ask for? 

It felt nice when someone cared. 

And now, even if she’s legally an adult and capable of making her own decisions, she prefers when Rafe makes them for her. After all, is it so wrong to just want to be taken care of?  

Because university was a lot. And the never-ending deadlines, assignments and all the late nights she spent trying to understand something she just couldn’t, had grown into this hurricane inside of her. It swallowed up everything that once made life beautiful and worth living; hiding them away from her, until she was crying to her phone nearly every night with her daddy on the other end, trying to calm her down, but to no avail.  

And she could only take it for so long until one day, she was knocking on the door of Rafe’s brand new house with tear-soaked eyes and a suitcase— his strong arms wrapped tightly around her the only thing able to placate her in months because with him, everything felt secure.  

And she liked spending time with him and living on the island, had even gotten a weekend job at a surf shop (despite his protests) because she wanted to do something useful, something other than loitering around the house that felt more like a spooky mansion whenever he was at work.  

The empty hallways and her spacious bedroom were especially unsettling at night when she’d had a bad dream— more often than not making her tiptoe over to Rafe’s bedroom with a pout, asking if she could sleep there instead. ‘Of course you can, sweetheart’ he’d always murmur; voice gravelly with sleep and already making space for her under the covers…

Then one night, as she’s peacefully snoozing off in his warm embrace, his fingertips slip past the waistband of her fleecy pajama bottoms— merely grazing at the smooth skin of her lower tummy, telling himself he’s just trying to do something with his hands so sleep could find him faster.

That’s until he notices she’s not wearing any panties, getting an insatiable urge to tuck his fingers between her soft thighs— already meeting a sticky mess there. After all, he only has so much self-control around the innocent little angel he swears was sent from heaven just for him to taint; to ruin.  

And it’s not like she seems to mind with the way she snuggles closer to him in her sweet slumber; the round of her ass pressing closer and closer against his crotch with every unconscious shift of her hips.  

Only when he begins mindlessly thumbing at her clit, does she stir— drowsy voice panicky when she mumbles out something inaudible.  

“Shh. S’just me, relax, yeah?” he hushes her, wet fingertips rubbing lazy circles over her weepy cunt when she whines— a complaint already blossoming on her tongue, something about him being gross, no doubt.  

“Is dad not makin’ you feel nice?” he coos, other hand dragging her closer with a grip on her thigh when she tries to pull away.  

“This is— you shouldn’t…” she stumbles over her words, trying to wriggle away from his overwhelming touch.   

“Shh, what do I always tell you, hm?” he clicks his tongue, his hold firm as he coaxes her to tell him what he wants to hear.  

Momentarily, she gets distracted from squirming around as she searches through her fuzzy brain before whispering out the answer. “…dad knows what’s best.” 

“There you go, that’s m’girl,” he breathes out, pressing a gentle kiss to the apple of her cheek as a reward— smiling against the skin when she lets out a muffled whimper, because his hands do feel nice.