#just floating the idea around nothing is planned or concrete!!

[emchant3d]

Hi friends would anyone perhaps be interested in participating in a steddie bang based off of Shakespeare's works 👀

[gemissleeping]

Velveteen|Theodore Nott

"He knew that they were only toys, and would never turn into anything else."

Theodore Nott x Reader

Summary: As the last surviving witch with ties to an ancient form of magic, Dumbledore has you tracking down horcrux hotspots.

Length: 2.2k

Notes: Angst mostly, some fluff. Blood, swearing, smoking. Percy Weasley hate (valid). This is just a little something I had the urge to write. May or may not continue as a series at this stage.

Fuck trees, fuck trolls, and fuck that smug little Weasley auror from the Ministry. He was a rat in y/n's eyes. A scheming, conniving rodent of a man. How he had even tracked her out there was beyond her. She'd made sure to take all of the precautions Snape had given her.

She'd apparated out with Professor Dumbledore. A good fifty kilometres from the point of interest too, might she add. Fifty kilometres she'd had to trek over two days to remain undetected. On foot. All for nothing in the end thanks to Percy.

Bootlicker.

There was no worse feeling than a failed task. Especially when it was one of her most important to date. The map was atrocious really, they clearly had no idea what they were looking for. Just that y/n should be able to sense it. Sniff it out as though she were some kind of blood hound.

Percy she had sensed. Thankfully she had gotten out before he'd seen her face, or the sea cave entrance she'd been eyeing on the cliffs below. She'd have to go back now. Which was absolutely wonderful and definitely did not make her want to tear her hair out.

Merlin, she thought she might hit the next Weasley she came across just for looking like him if she didn't calm down soon. Not Ginny of course, Ginny was lovely. Ronald was fair game though. Fred she would also be impartial to.

To top things off, y/n now found herself fleeing from the edge of the Forbidden Forest towards the castle. She'd missed the welcome dinner, which was a shame. But in all honesty, may have been a small mercy at this point. At least this way most of the students would be asleep, and she could get into the castle undetected.

It wasn't Dumbledore's fault that the end location of the Portkey had seemingly been inhabited by a troll since he had selected it. But how hard was it to check up on, really? Especially knowing she was wandless and unable to cast any regular spells. She'd blasted it to bits, of course. Not before it had gotten one good shot at her though, flinging her into the nearest pine tree.

It was just rather inconsiderate she thought.

The dizziness was setting in as she entered the castle via the Viaduct Bridge, snaking her way down to the dungeons. Making sure to grip every railing or wall available to her. Merlin was on her side that night, not one Professor crossed her path while she had floated through the dim halls. Once the concrete snake had appeared, revealing the door, she almost fell over with relief

The stairs felt so horrifically long, but finally she reached the dim, candle-lit depths of the Slytherin common room. Keeling forward for a moment, y/n placed her hands on her knees as she tried to calm her breathing. Her left palm came away bloodied. There was a tear in her stockings, and a huge gash across her knee.

y/n groaned, making her way around the corner to the couches her friends had claimed in third year. She couldn't wait to fall into one, maybe never wake if she had her way. And she did fall, only into Theodore Nott's eyeline. He looked as though he'd been waiting there for hours from the sweltering anger on his face. She took a deep breath, knowing she was about to get her ass handed to her for a second time that night.

"Nice of you to notify me of your delay."

"Does it look as though I planned on it?" y/n mumbled, sinking into the green velvet couch across from him. She sighed as her tension eased for the first time in days. Head lolling against the couch's back. Her hands shielding her eyes as a headache set in. While Theodore sat deathly still, awaiting further explanation with a burdened gaze. Something told y/n the burden was her.

"Mind if I borrow your wand?" y/n groaned from behind her palms.

There was only silence for a moment, before she heard him shift across from her. When she lifted her head his wand was resting on the table between them. He was pissed, beyond apprehension. But he had softened at her shattered appearance, the blood on her knee. Which she had now unknowingly painted on her cheek.

"Thank you," y/n sighed in relief, half expecting to have to fight for it. She worked quickly, sealing up the gash and cleansing the blood, pine needles, and dirt from her skin. Finishing by stitching her stockings together again. When she finally glanced back up, Theodore was frowning. His eyes sweeping her body up and down as she finished her work. He looked up from the closing threads of her stockings as they meshed around her knee, one eyebrow raised.

"Have something you'd like to say?" y/n grumbled, holding his wand out for him to take. He wasn't a fan of that question, or her attitude. His expression soured once again, all past concern pushed away. y/n brushed more pine needles off of her skirt, too tired and sore to care. She was spent, so completely crushed from the past two days. The knowledge that she had no choice but to continue until she succeeded wasn't helping.

"Have you always behaved like this, or do you just enjoying making me worry insufferably?" Theo leaned forward, and took the wand from her outstretched hand. His fingertips gently brushing her grazed knuckles.

"It's nice to see you too, Teddy," y/n laughed tiredly, shedding more pine needles as she picked them from her stockings. If she shut her eyes now, she worried they were so heavy she might fall asleep sitting up.

"Where have you been? I searched the whole train up and down for you. You missed the Sorting Ceremony," Theo hissed.

"It's a good thing we already know what house I'm in then, isn't it?"

"That's not funny y/n." He scolded, the concern in his voice thinly veiled by the frown he was wearing. She had no idea what it had been like for him, these past few hours especially.

"I need a cigarette before we get into it," y/n sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose. Everything was aching, she would find solace in a smoke or two. He didn't move. "Please?"

"It's late."

"You're awake," she countered, a hopeful look on her face that he knew he wouldn't be able to dissapoint.

"Because of you," he grumbled, running his hands through his messy curls.

"I'll take that as a yes, be right back," and she was off, disappearing into the dormitories.

"Do as you please, you always do," Theodore huffed under his breath.

He needed one too if he was honest. He felt as though he'd aged a few decades from the fear he'd been wearing all evening while he fretted over her disappearance.

She reappeared a minute or so later, the heavy overcoat he'd brought her for her birthday last year hanging off of her shoulders. The pair took their usual route until they found themselves at the top of the hill just outside the grounds, overlooking Hagrid's hut. y/n stood, overlooking the moonlit valley beneath them. The peace quickly disintegrating into swearing as the wind prevented her from sparking up. Theo had been hanging behind slightly, still not having forgiven her. But upon hearing the quiet curses falling from her lips, he couldn't help but walk over.

"You shield, I'll light it," he instructed, y/n doing as she was told and holding the sides of her coat up.

He closed the open space with his chest in two gentle steps. His thumb running over the flint of the lighter as the wind went quiet and y/n's face grew warm. He brought it to her lips, unable to keep himself from looking as he lit the cigarette between them. She took a relieved drag as the flame took. Theo got out his own cigarette, leaning down to press its tip to hers. He inhaled, spreading the flame between them. The grass was dewey beneath them as they smoked. Theo looked over to y/n, trailing over her body just to make sure.

"You've got pine needles in your hair, by the way," Theo murmured as he took another drag. His eyes flickering from hers, to the ground as he tapped his cigarette.

"Oh for fuck's sake," y/n heaved, tilting her head back in exasperation. She began ripping the hair ties from her two braids and brushing her fingers through them to shake the needles loose. Balancing her cigarette between her lips as she did.

"Still there," Theo mused, studying her with an amused expression as her frustration grew.

She passed him her cigarette wordlessly, which he took. She'd have rather not set herself alight on top of everything today. Then tipped her head forward, carelessly dragging her fingertips through it to rid herself of them. Once she was done, she flung her hair back. Raising an eyebrow in Theo's direction. He only gave her a saccharine smile as he took a drag from her cigarette, keeping it lit.

"Still?" y/n asked in disbelief, taking her cigarette from his lips and placing it between her own.

"Come here, sit," He shook his head, as though she was the most useless creature he'd ever seen. Theo walked over to the steps nearby, sitting on the top one. She followed suit, tucking her coat beneath her and taking a seat two steps down. She dipped her head back, leaning on her elbows. Her head resting between his knees. Theo couldn't help but admire the way her hair fell, even in its current mess.

Pressing the nub of his cigarette into the grass after one final drag, Theo brushed his hands off. His fingers quickly lacing through her hair in gentle streams as he dragged out the remaining pine needles. Christ there were a lot of them. He ran his fingers through it again, carefully to ensure he didn't snag anything. He did it again, and again. The pine needles were long gone. But her breathing had grown steady, and her shoulders relaxed. And that mattered far more to him than some pine needles.

"All clear?" She whispered sleepily, her head falling all the way back to meet his eyes.

"All clear," Theo echoed, the dried blood beneath her eye making him wince. "You missed this though," he reached out, pressing his thumb to his tongue and running it under her eye to brush the blood away.

"Ew," y/n gasped, but if she was honest, she was too tired to care. She swatted his hand away gently. Taking another drag from her cigarette which had been resting beneath her knuckles.

"Need I remind you that you once sneezed in my mouth?" Theo chimed, knowing it was his trump card, and likely would be for eternity.

"That was literally in First Year and it was an accident," she mumbled.

"Still stands." He shrugged.

"You loved it, don't lie." That got a smile out of him, however unwillingly.

"You're foul. Now tell me why you came in several hours late, looking like a troll dragged you through a bush backwards."

y/n's eyes widened slightly at his statement, choking on the dregs of her cigarette in disbelief. His smile vanished, eyes flickering between her own as he gauged her reaction. His jaw clenched as she sat up swiftly.

"Tell me you're joking."

"I think it's bedtime," y/n breathed, going to push herself up and off of the steps. But Theo's hand found her wrist like a vice, pulling her back down before she had a chance. He leant forward as she stumbled closer to him from the force. She just managed to catch herself from falling straight into him.

"I don't think so. What was that?" He said lowly, staring into her eyes. She was eternally fucked now. He could always tell when she lied, and he never tolerated it.

"Just leave it Theo, please," she pleaded, not having the energy.

"I left it all Summer. All of your disappearances, all of your little quests. You promised me it would be done by the end of the Summer. I have it in fucking writing, so don't tell me to leave it. What is going on?" He seethed, and y/n found herself unable to meet his eyes.

"Teddy, you know I can't-"

"God I'm so sick of hearing that." He laughed, a cruel sound, not his usual light-hearted teasing. "The Professors have you off, running around like some toy soldier, but you're not allowed to tell me what for. Then they're not even there to help you when things go wrong?"

"It's-"

"Despicable is what it is."

"Would you listen to me?"

"I would, but it's not like you'd be able to tell me anything, is it?"

The words left y/n silent, because they were true. She wished so terribly that they weren't. That she hadn't done it.

"I've always told you everything, y/n. I don't understand why-"

"I made the unbreakable vow."

The words rushed out of her as though she were going to be sick. The silence that followed her confession only made it more probable. Theo's features had darkened as her confession sunk in. He let go of her wrist, his hand wound into a fist as he looked out at the treeline of the forbidden forest. He stayed that way for a few moments as y/n stood before him, silently begging him to say something.

"Dumbledore," he breathed out finally, his voice straining with the effort of evenness, "you made the unbreakable vow, with Dumbledore?"

"I had to Theo, it was too important. They can't take any risks. Not until everything is done. I wanted to tell you, more than anything. I still want to-"

"Do you suppose he's ever made Potter make one?" Theo turned to her, looking as though he was about to set them both alight.

Her explanations fell dead on her tongue. They both knew he hadn't. Both knew what Dumbledore was scared of when it came to her.

"I didn't think so either," Theo conceded to her silence, his voice turning hollow. y/n felt something within her crack at the truth of his words. He was wrong, or at least she wanted him to be.

"It's different."

"I'm not sure it is," Theo countered, and he knew he was right in saying it.

Because it wasn't any different. The difference was trust. They were using her up and once they were done they would spit her out, or worse. He wasn't going to be able to sleep easily now.

"You should get to bed, I'll see you at practice tomorrow," he huffed, staring out to the forest again.

y/n stood there for a moment, hoping she could think of something to make it better. But as Theo lit another cigarette, the only thing she felt was tired.

[pointyfruit]

Skeledca design ref! Spooky guys!

I haven't come up with a story for them but I have a silly idea: They were Spirit Halloween animatronics out of order. (Fazbear Entertainment supplies robots to Spirit Halloween in this universe/owns Spirit Halloween/is Spirit Halloween)

Y/N is tasked with fixing them something something didn't go to plan something something now they follow y/n around. This story works best with the normal versions in the top right. [idk how robotics could pull off a robot that is constantly on fire]

Otherwize, they're just creatures. Other wordly, ghostly creatures that can semi-float around and do all sorts of tricks. Oorr maybe they're spirits that only appear on Halloween. Maybe they're spirits that can appear at any time and have nothing to do with Halloween. Maybe the dcas just decided to dress up for Halloween. Maybe they're bald.

Who knows. They're like concepts so their story isn't concrete.

[trashmouth-richie]

ᴴᴱᴬᵀᴱᴰ

MODERN! EDDIE x FEM! READER

MODERN! KING! STEVE x FEM READER

CHAPTER 2: DOUBLE DOSED

summary: taking the back roads to Indianapolis was Eddie’s idea. the day trip there was Steve’s. But when Wayne’s borrowed truck grinds to a halt on the hottest day in September, the tension and the boys’ tempers aren’t the only thing to rise.

warnings: 18+ smut, alcohol use, drug use, drug mention, kinda sadboy! Eddie, king Steve being king Steve, modern times so things such as google and Snapchat are mentioned. no use of y/n, reader has a nickname, pet name usage.

The blazing swell of the late September sun had been pelting down on you all day. Stuffed right between your best friend Eddie and his best friend Steve, the humid Midwest air trickled through the open windows in a hazy wave of oven door heat. 

  Between Steve’s hair-brained idea of driving to Indianapolis for tickets to the annual Irvington Halloween Festival and Eddie’s even more ridiculous idea of taking Wayne’s single cab truck, without A/C to make the 4 hour round trip drive— it was no surprise when the clunking metal of the brown ‘86 Chevy spluttered to a grinding stop alongside the highway. 

  100 miles from Hawkins, and nothing but pent up anger boiling at the surface to keep you all company.

  “Oh this is just great Munson,” Steve groaned, swinging open his door and slamming it shut with a metallic bang. A ring of sweat set deep in the Hawkins athletic shirt he was wearing, a heavy hand pushing his hair from his face, “dude, let’s take the truck!” he mocks the long haired metal head, “fuckin’ told you this would happen!” 

  The boys weren’t exactly getting along for the entirety of this trip. Eddie and you had made plans to decorate your apartment tonight for Halloween, a month too early just like you did every year, a night full of themed snacks and cheesy 80s horror movies, the perfect opportunity to finally make his move. 

  But when Steve showed up at the light blue trailer looking for his wingman to help him score at Hargrove’s party— he was less than impressed to find you peeking around Eddie’s outstretched arm holding open the door, a shit-eating grin on your face. Even more pissed when Eddie told him that you would be tagging along. A roll of his eyes and a scoff on his lips as he pounded down the concrete steps. 

  Steve wasn’t your favorite and you definitely weren’t his. He didn’t get the appeal.. Always too loud, too annoying, acting like one of the boys when clearly you were just too insecure to have any friends that were girls. 

  As he stomped through the dead grass he told himself it had nothing to do with the fact that you turned him down freshman year, never mind that it was six years ago and Steve had plenty of girls added to his belt, his snap score and drawer full of stolen panties proved it. Never mind that his bruised ego from that night at a bonfire in the woods pushed him into his King Steve era. He flicked a cigarette into the dirt, muttering under his breath. 

  “Fuck off, Harrington.” Eddie gripes as he shoves the gear shift into neutral, he lowers down to his left and pulls the hood jack towards him. “It’ll be an easy fix.” He says to you, his breath fanning your sweaty cheek as he shoves open the door and jumps out, boots crunching along the gravel as he pushes the hood open. 

  To be fair, Wayne’s truck had about a 50/50 chance of making the trek to Indianapolis, but Eddie had wanted to take it for a few reasons, and not one of them was for a trip down memory lane like he had told Steve. 

  The first reason he wanted to drive the truck opposed to Steve’s BMW, was lol was because it was a stick shift. An opportunity to let him float the gears and have his veins pop out that he knew was a panty wetter for most girls, he had only hoped you fit into that category. 

  The second reason was simple: there was no air conditioning, meaning the small tank top you were wearing would undoubtedly become very hot, and maybe… just maybe you would think of taking it off to cool down. 

  And finally the third reason mimicked the first… you would be sitting bitch in the middle, and with each shift between gears, his arm would be sliding around the soft plains of your luscious thighs. The same thighs that were bare besides a high waisted pair of cut off shorts that had his mind flipping the perv meter to dangerous levels when you hopped off your bike this morning.

  Greeting him with the same smile that cooked his brain to mush for years. 

  Only today— you were starting to flirt back with him, pushing your ass out and bending at the waist just to untie your shoes. Even though in the history of forever, you had never once taken off your worn converse in the Munson trailer. You also were wearing a tank top, accentuating your curves, and Eddie was ready to chew a hole in the makeshift drywall of his trailer when you bounced up the steps to greet him. 

  Usually you hid your body with a baggy shirt and a pair of jeans, your fuck-off attitude is what earned you the right to have Eddie as a friend in the first place. 

  Tonight he was going to push the limits, share a joint with you when the yellow harvest sun dipped low into the indigo trees, kiss your ear with chapped lips while he held you when the movie had a jump scare… he had a plan. And Steve ‘cockblock’ Harrington was being the worst wingman of all time. 

  Sliding out of Eddie’s door, the Navajo rug blanket snags against the cracked leather of the worn seat. The back of your knees were sticky and shiny with sweat, same as your cleavage, not a single stitch of wind to be found along the gravel road— unless you counted Steve’s annoyed huffs.

—

  Steve bitched and moaned the entire time Eddie was bent over the truck. Investigating what had gone wrong, “aren’t you supposed to be some sorta mechanic?” He grumbled, pushing his hair from his forehead, slotting his hands back into place around the Levi’s on his athletic hips, “swear to God if you make me miss this party, and what Lily has been teasing me with on snap,” his eyes roll into the back of his head at the thought of it, almost letting out a desperate whine.. “I’ll shoot you dead Munson.” 

  “Take it easy Stevie,” Eddie grunted, his jaw tensed and an irritated tone on his lips. His brows turned inward in concentration as he twisted a wrench with strong grease covered hands from behind the hood, “just need’t..  fuck.” Dark smoke started billowing out around him.

  His foul mouth spewed a string of words that barely made any sense, ending his fit with a slam of the hood and his wrench thrown into the ditch. 

  You walk pointed nails across his sweat covered bare back easing his bruised ego with a sickly sweet voice, “it’s okay,” you preen, pushing your chest into his side  when he wiggles from your tickling fingers, his dark eyes swirling into calm and the huff from his breath lost in his throat, “I’ll just call AAA.” 

  AAA did not service in your area, and according to google— the nearest gas station was twenty miles away, a podunk hole in the wall that sold newspapers for a quarter and had 1 star reviews. 

  “Fuck,” Eddie shouted, kicking the tires and hiding the burn of ache traveling up his leg, “the hell are we gonna do now?” 

  “Guess we’re fucking stranded! Great idea Munson, gonna die by the inbred hands of the family from The Hills Have Eyes, but god we just had to take this piece of shit!.” Steve spit as he flopped back into the bed of the truck. 

  Eddie pointed a greased finger into Steve’s chest, “you,” he said prodding with emphasize, “were the one who didn’t want to buy them online, oh God Eddie let’s just get out of Hawkins for the day, make Lily sweat a little bit, make her think I have a bitch in Indy..” 

  “Fuck off,” Steve said shoving Eddie’s hand away, sitting up, casting a stank eye in your direction, voice laced in venom, “at least my dick is getting w—”

  A pack of cards hits Steve right in the chest, hard and knocking the insult from his lungs. 

  It was your idea.

  The slick pack of cards in the glove box with paisley red design on the front was sure to lend some relief and make time pass between now and when Robin would be on the way, driving Steve’s BMW with white knuckles and the radio off no doubt. You had texted her when the boys were arguing, explaining the situation and promising her a small white baggy from Eddie’s stash when you got back. 

  “great idea,” Steve accuses, “s’ gonna take at least 2 hours to get here,” his hands fly in the air in defeat as he yells, “she’s failed her drivers test four fuckin’ times because she drives like my grandma, and that old bag has been dead for years!” 

  “Cool it, you didn’t have any other ideas besides whining Steve,” Eddie defends, fingers wrapped around the neck of a foggy glass bottle filled with amber liquor, he hands it to you in a slick move of his wrist bending and presenting both a blunt and the bottle like a flower blooming in his open palm, “might as well relax a little s Sswhile we wait, make it worth our while.” 

  The liquor went down with a burn, hotter than the pinked shoulders of Eddie’s sunburnt skin. And the small band of splotchy salmon across Steve’s nose. 

  Eddie wrestled a dusty moth bitten blanket from behind the seat, and spread it on the bed of the truck. Before you could push your ass up onto the tailgate, he had wrapped his hands tight along your hips and hoisted you up. A grip so tight he didn’t want to let go, your body feeling just right in his palms, and you were feeling it too. 

  As the liquor bottle got lighter and lighter, the tension eased, Steve was actually laughing at Eddie’s jokes and wasn’t rolling his eyes as much when he had to give you a card or when Eddie praised you for winning again. 

  When Steve threw his cards on the blanket and twisted his arms in a pout at losing another round of Go Fish, it was his idea to play another game. 

  “It’s real easy,” he explained around a puff of smoke as he shuffled the cards back into the pack with his large tanned hands, a single bead of sweat sloping down from his temple and curling around his chin. “You hold up five fingers, and if you’ve never done what one of us says, you keep a finger up, but if you have… you put a finger down and take a sh—- hey dickhead!” 

  Eddie’s lips turn sinister around the glass bottle as rogue drops of Crown dribble from his chin. “Ooops,” he says coyly, eyes bigger than Betty Boop’s and already feeling the combined high and drunken stupor take over his body, “were you needing this?” 

  Dragging a hand down his face, Steve sighs, “yeah it’s kinda the whole point of the game, fucker,” 

  “Hey…” Eddie whines, “be nice Stephanie.” 

  With another ten minutes of arguing about Eddie being a jackass and Steve being crabby in hot weather, you all agree to play the game, the loser has to finish the bottle and strip off an item of clothing. 

  “Okay so let’s start this easy,” Steve explained, “never have I ever been arrested.”

  Eddie puts a finger down and scowls, “good one Harrington,” he adjusts his legs and leans back against the frame of the truck, “just because you got away doesn’t mean your ass wasn’t just as guilty as mine.” 

  “Shoulda ran faster,” 

  The boys make annoyed faces at each other and it’s Eddie’s turn, “never have I ever… nope I’ve done that… never have I.. shit.. okay pass! I gotta think.” 

  “Your turn,” he says, passing you the bottle of almost empty liquor.

  “Okay, Uhh..” you hold the bottle with both hands and gently peel back the label with your fingernail, rubbing the sticky residue between your fingers, you rack your brain for something that would get them both, “never have I ever… peed standing up.” 

  The boys roll their eyes, and each put a finger down, “cheap shot,” Steve whines, and glowers when you stick your tongue out at him. 

  “Oh I got one!” Eddie says rubbing his hands together, splaying a wicked grin on his face, “never have I ever, socked Billy Hargrove in the face.”

  You push Eddie’s shoulder and slap his chest playfully, as he laughs like a hyena, “he deserved it!” 

  Steve chokes on his inhale of the passed blunt, “that was you?!” 

  “Fuck yeah it was!” Eddie says proudly, “that’s why she’s banned from the pool.” 

  Laughing at the now funny memory of Billy slapping your ass as you walked by him in your swimsuit. 

  The way Eddie’s fist felt in your hands as you shoved it down, the rage in his eyes as he was ready to beat the bricks off of Billy. 

  The sick twist of his mustache when it formed a grin knowing that Eddie was on his last strike with Hopper and couldn’t defend you. 

  And the satisfying crack of his molars splintering in his gum line when you knocked your fist into his jaw.

  The pain and swollen fingers were worth it. 

  “And I’d do it again,” you say lowering a finger and taking a swig from the bottle, the burn of the liquor barely there now. 

  Steve laughs, a new sense of almost admiration, as he looks at you with his hair in his face, grabbing the joint from Eddie’s fingers and holding it firm between his teeth, “my turn,” he says clearing his throat, “uh..never have I ever… kissed Eddie.” 

  You and Eddie look at eachother and giggle awkwardly around the cloud of dense smoke, but your fingers never budge. 

  “Seriously?” Steve says incredulously, looking from you to Eddie and back to Eddie and then you again, “can’t lie in this game, dude.” 

  Eddie had come close to kissing you on a few occasions. Once in high school at Steve’s party after winning the beer pong tournament, he looked at you the way someone would a lover, wetting his lips and looking at your mouth, but in the end he gave you a bone crushing hug and twirled you around the room. 

  Another time during the 4th of July fireworks last year when you had both smoked two bowls from the pretty pipe he gifted you earlier that year on your birthday.

  The air was warm, just like today, and you leaned your back into his front as you laid lazily on the roof of his van. He was singing a song you were too high to comprehend and when you turned your head into his shoulder and looked up at him. 

  His fingers wrapped around a lock of your hair and you hummed in approval. Snuggling further into him. And the next thing you knew it was nearly dawn and you had fallen asleep. 

  It just never seemed like the right time. 

  “So who’s turn is it?” Eddie said clearing his throat. 

  “Oh n-n-n-n-n-n-no!” Steve said leaning further into the circle, clearly interested to know what’s going on, “we aren’t just gonna skate past this.”

  “Drop it, Steve,” Eddie said all too fast, his boots stretching out to kick at his thigh. 

  The bottle in your hands is suddenly heavy and you set it down with a clunk on the bed of the truck. And you pick hastily at your nails, avoiding two sets of brown eyes. 

  “Fuck it,” Steve says, tongue dancing around his mouth trying to stop a smirk, “I dare you to kiss her.” 

  You're certain your heart stops beating. 

  “Jesus Christ,” Eddie sighs. Running his hand on the back of his neck, his open cut off flannel shirt showing off his tattooed chest. 

  “Y-you don’t have to Eddie, it’s okay…” you say trying to brush the tension off, not noticing the way his hands are fiddling with the ends of his shirt and how his eyes haven’t left you, “but I dare you to.” 

  It could have been the combined high. It could have been the fact that you hadn’t taken your eyes off of Eddie since you parked your bike against his trailer this morning. 

  He was always good looking, in that goofy best friend kind of way. And although your friendship was never normal, Eddie’s hands always searing through your skin like grill marks on a hotdog, it never crossed the boundary into something more. And you’d be lying if you weren’t curious about how his lips would taste. 

  That was all the convincing Eddie needed before he pushed himself up in a fluid motion, balancing on his knees, and leaning back with a second guess, but it’s you who leans up on your knees too, meeting him halfway.  

  His dark curls swing around your face as he gets impossibly closer. “You sure?” he asks, working a finger under the tip of your chin. 

  And your surprised when your nod is followed by soft lips, slipping against yours. 

  He tasted like the liquor you’ve been drinking and matches. Musky, and woodsy. Your tongue swipes against his bottom lip and catches into the corner of his mouth, the brine of sweat on your tongue has you whining into his mouth and he swallows your noises with glee. 

  He shudders when you pull him closer, fingers hooked into the fabric of his shirt. His eager hands holding your face, lips smacking against yours, and for the first time today, it’s not the heat that has your panties wet. 

  Kissing Eddie is like finding money in your jeans after they go through the dryer. It’s easy, and slow, and so fucking good. 

  Seconds, minutes, days? go by before Steve clears his throat and mutters an ahem! 

  Eddie finished the kiss by nudging is nose down the apple of your cheeks and kissing behind your ear. 

  “Fuck…” is all Steve can muster and you bite your lip and sit back down, lips still buzzing with Eddie’s spit still on them. 

  Eddie is smiling and looking at you, eyes drunk on lust. 

  “I— uh, yeah, it’s my turn I guess, ” straightening your back and crossing your legs in a pretzel, you know damn well you’d get at least one finger down from Steve. “Never have I ever… kissed Nancy Wheeler.”

  Steve rolls his eyes and puts a finger down, and when a long finger covered in grease despite the many wipes against denim jeans  also disappears into a fist… a sloppy grin lines Eddie’s mouth as Steve looks like he might throw up. 

  “Are you fuckin’ serious man?” 

  Eddie explains to a butthurt Steve, “let me explain, fuck— it was like a hundred years ago, after junior year, she kissed me!” 

  It was true. 

  Nancy went to Eddie to buy some “forget-‘ems” (Eddie’s coined word for ecstasy) after Jonathan left her for the pretty long haired new boy from California. She was scared and didn’t want to be alone while she took the white pill. Drug use being foreign to her entirely. 

  Eddie? She had asked kindly, unsure about herself for the first time. Take it with me? 

  His long curls bounced as he nodded his head, taking one of the pills from her dainty hands and placing it between his teeth. Tipping his head back with a quick jerk and a rough swallow, hoping it looked cool, he looked into her blue eyes and gave her a grin. 

  It was strange, having the preppy Nancy Wheeler in his trailer with her proper fitting cardigan and light wash skinny jeans. 

  He could tell she was uncomfortable, the normal glow of her skin was lost behind shallow cheeks and dark rimmed eyes, pressed tight with setting powder to try and hide it. 

  maybe she should have had a smaller dose, being that her small frame had never dealt with drugs before. And right when Eddie’s high took over, Nancy Wheeler had started to feel it too.

  She ran around the trailer giggling and feeling the rough edges of the peeling wallpaper. She did flips on Eddie’s bed and spilled cereal all over the kitchen, laughing with dark wide pupil filled eyes. Completely rolling. 

  The high lasted longer than Eddie had thought it would, and she started to cry when thinking about her mom, crying harder when she asked Eddie about his. Forgetting she was gone. 

  She took it a step further by kissing Eddie square on the mouth, wet cheeks and harsh lips pressed to his before he could pull away. And immediately after, Nancy threw up all over his lap. 

  Ending the high and the four hour sudden friendship they had gained. 

  Eddie had told you the story one night when he got too drunk, making you swear to secrecy the next morning that you’d never tell a soul, and you hadn’t. Keeping the pinky promise with your friend all the way to your grave— if he hadn’t just spilled it all to Steve. 

  “See,” you say to try to smooth things over, voice calm and cool through your own high, “no harm no foul, Stevieee,” you chirped, hiding a small giggle behind bit lips. 

  “Really?” Steve spit, flustered and a bit bold trying to mask his hurt with venom. Tongue pressing deep into his cheek and his dark eyes locked on your own, hands tapping onto his bent knees, “then maybe we should even the score, huh?”

  Eddie blows a ring of smoke into the air, following its lazy descent into the dense humid sky. “You wanna kiss Chrissy?” He looks at you with a quizzical expression, laughing at your stunned face, not understanding what Steve is getting at, “be my fucking guest, dude.” 

  “No,” Steve says firmly, not breaking eye contact with you, dark knives of fury peel back each layer of skin, “her.” 

  Eddie says your name in disbelief, and you’re stunned to your core, realizing the air was suddenly much stickier and hotter than before. 

  He sits up straight and leans over the discarded card game, pointing at Steve, eyes narrowed in on him, “you don’t even like her.” 

  “Sure I do,” Steve lies, sniffing loudly, his wicked eyes glance towards Eddie and he licks his lips when he turns his head back to you, eyeing you up and down, as he leans back on his palms, “don’t I, Taffy?” 

  Eddie’s nickname he had given you when you were kids for love of the cavity inducing candy, felt wrong falling from Steve’s mouth, especially in the grim sentiment it was said in. 

  Of course he was referring to the way he had approached you at that party at the lake all those years ago. 

  You could still smell his Acqua Di Gio cologne, the way the sun highlighted his hair that summer, the freckles on the bridge of his nose, the warm beer on his breath. 

  You make a face in disgust towards him, “I’m not kissing you, Harrington.” Crossing your arms in finality as if your words held enough power to command an entire kingdom. 

  Eddie shoves Steve’s shoulder, “what the fuck man,” mixed pleasure of pain and concern painting his face, “don’t be weird.”

  Steve knew how much Eddie liked you, having spent many nights on the roof of his practically abandoned home listening to Eddie through FaceTime over analyzing how to make his move. 

  “‘m not,” he says with a shrug, long fingers tapping against the metal of the truck bed behind him, legs stretched out so the tops of his air forces skim your bent knees, eyeing what he wanted, you. 

  “just trying to get even,” Steve said nonchalantly. 

  “She’s not gonna kiss you,” Eddie said, shaking his head and throwing his hands around, hurt lacing his voice, “give it up.” 

  Steve wiggled the toe of his sneaker against your knee, shooting you a wink, “not until she does.”

  It’s not as if the question hadn’t crossed your mind. It had more times than you’d like to admit. What would it be like to kiss Steve Harrington? 

  “Dude! She doesn’t wanna do it. Fucking leave her alone.” Eddie’s voice was loud and on the cusp of breaking as he pleaded with his friend.

  What would have happened if you fell for his charm instead of turning him down? He was definitely sweet back then, taking your hand in his and guiding you along the rough terrain of the woods. 

  “Let her speak for herself!” 

  Eddie’s eyes fall to yours in desperation, his heart aching for you to tell Steve off, “c’mon, tell him, Taffy.” 

  Pressing your eyes shut tight you can feel Eddie’s hand on your knee, rubbing soft circles in an attempt to remind you that he’s there. 

  “One.”

  “What?”

“What!”

  “Just one kiss, then you need to shut up, got it?” 

  “Taff, you don’t have to do this, we can— we can just get home and I’ll pay him or something.” He’s desperate, willing to do whatever it took to not have this happen. 

  “It’s okay, Eddie, what’s one stupid kiss gonna hurt?” 

  You don’t hear the way he groans and throws himself back against the side of the truck, pinching the corner of his eyes between his fingers trying to ignore Steve’s low chuckle and smirk planted on his face. 

  “C’mon then,” Steve presses, man spreading his legs and patting his lap, “get over here.” 

  You roll your eyes and push yourself up again, “cocky aren’t ya?” 

  “all confidence babe,” he says back, licking his lips, and you roll your eyes again before kneeling in front of him. 

  Eddie groans and kicks at Steve’s leg again. 

  “Sorry dude, just bro code,” he said to Eddie, “and you,” he says addressing you with a nod, “ready?” 

  “Yeah, whatever.” 

  He doesn’t move like Eddie, he’s grabby and rough, taking what he wants and not waiting for cues. He bullies his way into your mouth with his tongue, colliding yours with his and massaging it wildly. It wasn’t bad, just completely different than how you were just kissed by Eddie. When his teeth bite the flesh of your lip you yelp in surprise.

  You turn your head and Steve’s lips trail down your neck, hungry hands grab at your waist and pull you into his lap. Your eyes are closed but his are open, looking at his friend and moving his hand in a wave to beckon him over. 

  A second set of hands is on your shoulders and you feel Eddie’s lips against your neck. 

  “This okay baby?” 

  His breath is hot and stuttering as you reach up and fist your fingers in his hair, your answer muffled by Steve’s mouth. 

  You moan their names, and it drives Eddie wild. 

  Eddie’s hands lower the strap of your tank top scraping your skin with the blunt of his nails. He groans when he sees the absence of a bra strap, diving into your warm skin with a lapping tongue, thrashing slow against your skin, working a strawberry shaped bruise into your skin.

  Steve’s hands are already working to pop the button on your jeans, and you whine when you feel his hard cock beneath your leg. 

  “So fuckin’ pretty,” Eddie breathes as you crane your neck to meet his lips, desperate for your lips to connect with his sgain. 

  His hands fumble on your tank top straps and he groans when his fingers skim over the swell of your tits, you twist his hair in your fingers when his rough hands pinch at your nipples.

  Steve takes his shirt off and tosses it carelessly, his skin is warm on your bare chest as he licks at your exposed neck and earns another moan from you, causing you to whine into Eddie’s mouth and move your hips against his cock. 

  You’re all a tangle of bare chests and sweat coated skin. The boys are barely giving you any time to breathe between open mouth kisses and lazy tongues before the other one commands your attention. 

  “oh, fuck,” Steve whimpers when he works your shorts down, his large fingers find their way into the wet folds of your pussy, “no panties?” 

  Eddie pulls his mouth from yours to let out a desperate groan as your hands unzip his jeans, “shit, all day and no bra or panties,” his hands caress your cheeks and his thumb slips into your mouth open, which you close around him and moan, “you’re a bad girl, huh?” 

  “With the tightest little pussy, fuck,” Steve groans as he pushes a finger into your slick walls. 

  “Mm’mm” you answer them both at once, grabbing needy at Eddie’s cock through his boxer briefs as it flips into your hand, heavy and leaking a pearl of cum from the slit. 

  Noises of all kinds flood the bed of the truck. 

  Wet sloshing from you gushing over Steve’s fingers, him coaxing an orgasm from you as quick as he could, determined to hear your pretty mouth hum. 

Eddie almost in tears as your mouth devours his length  and the head of his cock slides into your throat. 

  The velvet skin of Eddie’s heavy cock slides in and out of your mouth at a slow speed, a small patch of hair rubs on your nose as you take him deeper.

  He’s muttering incoherently and Steve is egging you on. His lips wrapped around your nipples and teeth nipping harshly. 

  “Jesus Jesus sweetheart, Taff— I’m gonna, don’t want to shit shit shit,” you open your mouth and he slides out on accident as you cum all over Steve’s fingers. Sloppy and wet as he rubs at your clit like a DJ. 

  “Thas’it,” he encourages, “so fucking wet, pretty little pussy, yeah, you like this? The two of us giving you what you want huh?” 

  “Yes, Jesus Christ yes!” you’re a blabbing mess, as your high peaks and Eddie spins you away from Steve.

  Steve’s jeans are soaked from you and he’s pitching a tent big enough to host a family reunion. 

  “My turn baby,” Eddie says kissing you sloppy on your lips, “been wantin’ to taste this sweet pussy for years.”

  He helps you lay down on the blanket, making a makeshift pillow with the discarded clothes from the three of you. 

  You’re covered in sweat and more than likely sunburnt in places no one ever should be, but you could care less. Being worshiped by Steve and Eddie had you feeling like the sexiest woman alive, and nothing could compare to the separate high that alone was giving you. 

  Eddie nudges his nose in the crook where your thighs meet, tongue lapping up the pleasure leftover from Steve. “What’d’ya think Stevie boy? Wanna bet I can make her cry?” 

  Steve’s busying himself with unthreading his legs from his jeans, his cock in his hand as he strokes it up and down at the sight of you spread out and naked for them. 

  “You’re on, Munson.”

  Eddie’s tongue was tantalizing. Demon-like against your puffy clit and going further into your pussy than any tongue has before, including Robin’s. 

  His nose pushes up against your clit as he goes deeper, swirling his wicked tongue and slurping your folds into his mouth. 

  You’re buzzing all over. Vibrating from the intense pleasure. Moaning and yanking Eddie’s hair between your fingers as he moves and licks and darts his tongue. 

  Pretty whimpers elicit your body and are swallowed by Steve’s lips, as he hungrily works his tongue into your mouth. The swirling and twirling is all too much.  Their tongues work like hands on a clock and your second orgasm arrives quick fast and in a hurry. The tears spill from your eyes as your writhe and moan beneath them, clawing every inch of their skin. 

  Eddie cleans you up with his tongue holding your hips in place as you shake and try to wiggle away from him. Too sensitive as you lay practically lifeless on the bed of the truck. 

  “Told you,” Eddie says as he sits up, with a sheen of your arousal all over his face. Smiling wide. “I’m just that good.” 

  Steve sits up and tucks his cock back into his boxers, pushing his hair back from his sweat slicked face, “yeah yeah, whatever…” he says, looking out towards the blue sky and the wavering, heat wave horizon, a stupid grin on his lips, “better get dressed sweet girl.” 

  “Thought we were just getting started,” you whine as Eddie kisses his way up your body, laying on his back next to you, his finger threaded with yours. 

  Steve chuckles and points a long finger to the road, “it’ll have to be another time, princess, our ride is almost here.” 

I have a part two partly written .. lemme know what you would think of that?

CHAPTER 2: DOUBLE DOSED

[chevelleneech]

What would kill Oshamir for me

is having Qimir be fully grown, on Brendok 16 years ago, trying to abduct one or both of the twins.

Sorry not sorry, but I do not like the idea of them being etl nor anything at all romantically, if he decided when they were children, to groom them into being his evil companion. That’s not fun. Enemies to lovers is a trope set in fictional stories, meant to be unrealistic but at the very least sexy and bad for you, yet worth it. Knowing Qimir was laying in wait to abduct two children, yet failed and only got one, then met the other one as an adult and still tries to seduce her, is not it for me.

The only way it’ll still work, in my opinion, is if Qimir is not as old as his “it was a long time ago” answer implies. If he was between 10 and 18 (still older, but not to a creepy degree for the context I’m making up, lol) and wasn’t the one with the plan to abduct the girls. If his Master wanted them and he was dragged along to help or scout, then sure.

However, I do not see how Leslye’s opinion of them being etl without the manipulation and based on Qimir actually being honest without seeking redemption, works if he was on Brendok at all, even less if he as an active participant in the fire. You can’t make him responsible or partially for killing Osha’s family and have him be an adult who knew her as a child, then claim Qimir isn’t abusive and his feelings for Osha are rooted in vulnerability. That would be a total lie, and unless she lied to hide the true plot… it just doesn’t work.

As well, making the first, lead Black and Asian pairing in a franchise as popular as Star Wars, under a trope as juicy as etl, really just be groomer and victim, would be so wildly racist.

Anyway, this post is a result of fandom theories I’ve seen floating around, nothing concrete. But I really hope Qimir wasn’t there as an active player, because I really want to keep Oshamir enjoyable in canon.

[fazgoo-connoiseur-1987]

ooh

so

I want to ask

could I know your version of events?

like, who died when, does Micheal go to the pizzeria’s to find his father or help his father, you know, stuff like that.

please :>

ok ok ok. long post incoming.

1977- This is when Fredbear's opens. I've been floating the idea around that Bill and Henry set up other buisnesses prior to this but nothing concrete yet. Henry is already divorced by now and Bill's marriage is on thin ice.

1980- This is when Bill gets caught in a springlock accident and his worldview is changed forever. Also his wife leaves him (he gets the kids on the weekends). And they open Freddy's cus business is going so well.

1983- Mike accidentally kills his brother early in the year (CC doesn't possess anything he gets to go hang out in fnaf world) and starts living with his dad full-time cus he feels bad about it. Bill murders Charlie in october and it sends Henry on a 3-month-long depression spiral. Fredbear's closes.

1985- Year where William murders 5 kids in the span of a week. Henry burries the bodies for him out in he desert but they don't coordinate this or talk about it ever. Freddy's is shut down.

1986- William tries to set up Circus Baby's and he asks Henry to build the robots for him. He does but he also succeeds in taking his own life with Baby. William injects him with some remant and ghosts him HARD. Then Elizabeth dies and William and Mike go into hiding.

1987- The location with the Toy animatronics opens. Henry is trying to keep Bill away from him at this point so Mike gets a job there (at his dad's behest) and tampers with their facial recognition. William ALSO gets a job under a fake name and murders another 5 kids to stick in the funtimes. Jeremy gets lobotomised.

1988-1993- This is Bill and Mike's father-son bonding road trip. They're going from state to state hiding from the feds and working odd jobs. They become really really close here (mostly cus they're isolated from literally everyone else).

1994- Henry opens another Freddy's and Bill physically cannot stay away. He gets a maintanence job under another fake name and Mike starts working nights. He's tasked with scraping some remnant off the animatronics (which he does). The location closes and Bill goes there to try and disasemble them and he dies in the rabbit costume. Henry locks him in a room and boards it up. This is also when Ralph dies rip Ralph.

2000- It takes Mike a couple years to work up the nerve to go into the Sister Location Bunker but he does and then he experiences Sister Location. His insides get removed and Ennard puppets him around for about a week. He just kinda locks himself in his house after that.

2001-2022- Henry feels really directionless without having a Freddy's to run so he goes to stay with his sister and Bill's ex-wife (Maggie). He probably builds some weapons for the government. Mike seeks him out and grills him for answers around 2017. Afer that Henry starts working on the 'find everyone and set us all on fire' plan.

2023- Henry gets a job at the opening Faz Frights and him and William both have a really disorienting week. Henry sets the bulding on fire and loses an arm escaping Springtrap. He comendeers the old Fredbear's building to do Pizza Sim in and hires Mike. Then he sets everyone on fire. William goes to hell (angry 10 year old edition), Henry gets to fish, and everyone else goes to fnaf world to hang out with CC.

[zswagcentral]

A non-chronological list of rumored future Zendaya projects that I've heard floating around

Ronnie Spector Biopic: She was fully signed on to this, and pre-production had began I think. However, there have been no updates since Ronnie Spector's death in 2022. I've heard rumors that it's been shelved, but nothing official.

On one hand, I believe this would be a good vessel for a potential Oscar nom for Z. On the other hand, musician biopics are very hit or miss, and if they're not great , they're usually abysmal. She would need a REALLY strong creative team involved with this. Furthermore, there are so many biopics in the works for the next couple years (Bruce Springsteen, Janis Joplin, Dione Warwick, another Michael Jackson one, etc. etc.), it might actually be pretty difficult to stand out even with a good one.

Cleopatra: Denis Villanueve has all but confirmed he will be working on a Cleopatra film, and a different adapted sci-fi film after Dune. Apparently there was a leak that showed Zendaya was signed on to play Cleopatra... as well as the random AI trailer on YouTube that got a bunch of attention for some reason.

Look, I am beyond hyped at the idea of Denis making Z the lead in his next movie. I think she's earned it; and I love that he has that level of faith in her. HOWEVER, for obvs reasons this is terrible casting (if you use your frustration at this potential casting to be anti-black anywhere in my mentions, you're getting blocked).

My hope is that maybe it's just unfounded rumors (I mean, nothing about the potential movie has been confirmed other than that Denis is making it. Remember how she was rumored to be the female lead in Megalopolis?), or perhaps he wants her to lead in a different project of his, or worse comes to worse, maybe she'll be cast as Arsinoe (Cleopatra's equally interesting, entirely underrated, half sister who was highly suspected to be biracial). Obvs the ideal is for Hollywood to cast ACTUAL Egyptian actors... but reality is, the lead actors will most likely be American and bankable with mass appeal.

9 to 5: Apparently Jennifer Anniston is looking to make a remake of the 80s comedy of the same name, starring Z, Ariana Grande and Sydney Sweeney.

On one hand, I think a big budget comedy would also be great for her. She has real comedy chops that she hasn't really gotten to show post-disney (most likely, she'd play Lily Tomlin's character). And while we're all sick of remakes, I think the OG film is far removed enough from the target audience of this remake, that it could actually work.

Downside, Hollywood comedies are usually hit or miss for me lately, and I think Jennifer Anniston's idea of comedy is really outdated compared to what is considered funny now (if you look at the script of the OG movie, there is ALOT that would need to be updated).

Also, there really isn't anything concrete about this project. Just a rumor that JA wants to make it. I don't believe any of the named actresses have shown any interest yet.

______________________________________________________________

Anyway, lmk if I missed any. If there are any rumors/speculations you've heard with projects she might be tied to...

I understand her schedule will be absolutely packed this year with filming/promo for Euphoria, the drama, spiderman, the odyssey, Dune Messiah (jfc, when will they even get time to plan this wedding? lol), but once she's completely free of Euphoria/S*m L*vinson I'm genuinely excited to see what her filmography will look like beyond long-running shows and franchises 🙏

[frozenjokes]

Do you have any fics/ideas planned at all?

I’m super excited to see what you come up with this year!

I have a couple ideas floating around, but nothing new that’s concrete yet! Here’s a couple things I’d really love to do in 2025 though!

Mumbomaid with be finished!! Hopefully January or February sometime unless I take a small break. I may also write an offshoot or two if I’m missing the characters but the main fic will be Done

In my brain lives a continuation of the cubscarian hotguy au where the three stooges attempt to rescue renbob from doc’s mansion thing where there’s all sorts of fun moments and antics mostly revolving around Scar. I think he and Doc could have a really sweet father/son esc relationship where they kinda support each other and most importantly Doc could help Scar get away from his government labor by providing the advanced prosthetics he needs to live as well as keeping him in a state of less chronic pain and illness. To the higher ups Scar serves, he is a Very Dangerous thing not to have of their side, so he’s kept on a tight leash and sheltered to hell, but with the introduction of cub and grian into scar’s life, that’s changing. Also had a silly idea where Scar is still deathly afraid of the fae and generally being around too much nature (definitely not a fear planted in him by the people who need to control him and keep him in the city) so when the three of them are bringing renbob To Nature And Freedom scar is like uhhhhh guys. guys. where are we going. is the Central Park not good enough. GUYS????? don’t make him touch grass please he can’t handle it.

I have been sitting on a comedically toxic grumbo thing for ages where they like put on a thinly veiled facade of a very happy in love couple but are constantly fighting and drugging and fucking with each other to the point of complete absurdity and Skizz is Mumbo’s roommate who thinks they are just so sweet and the ideal of romance… gosh I wish I had what they had! he has no idea that they’ve roofied each other’s drinks while looking each other in the eyes and that’s why they’re both passed out on the couch. Stupid shit. I just haven’t figured out how I want to go about doing this.

[faunrose-thorne]

Project Update!

Here we are, my first project update!

This week has mostly consisted of writing out story notes and drawing concept art of the inn's exterior while listening to Anja Kotar's song Tuscany on repeat. Also, trying to decipher the riddle of the Queen Anne house. It just amazes me that they can make asymmetry look so good, but trying to design one myself has been more of a challenge than it probably should be. Still, I'm determined because I love the idea of a sweet Queen Anne home all grown over with pink roses being haunted (I absolutely love me some contrast!).

The one thing I would like to improve on this new week is my focus. I would like to be able to write out some concrete goals and then achieve them, instead of just kind of floating around from one thing to another. If I could actually see that I was making progress on something, then I most likely wouldn't feel so discouraged. Also, recent events have motivated me to get back to my French lessons, so it would really help if I could plan out my days better to make time for everything I want to do (honestly, at this point of my life I don't know why this is still such a struggle for me…).

I'll do another update next Sunday. Right now, I'm going to watch a random movie I found called Lèvres de Sang. I know nothing about it except that it's a 1975 vampire movie, so yeah, I have no idea what I'm getting into, but that's part of the fun!

[runawaymun]

22 for the writer ask game!!

22.   Care to share any future WIP ideas you have lined up?

Thank you! I have so many WIP ideas tbh it's kind of embarrassing haha. I am most excited about my Celrond arranged marriage AU (which I think I have talked about ad nauseum at this point) but it's just SO juicy and fun! Idiots in love. Thinking it's unrequited but it's not. They hate each other they love each other they're so dumb your honor.

I want to do more Elrondir as well. I miss them. I have a couple of longfics planned for them. One's a modern coffeeshop AU (I know I know haha). And the other one is still definitely AU but it's the Celrondir OT3 AU (in which Cel and Elrond are both a little bit in love with Lindir - though on Cel's part it doesn't really have a romance aspect, and Lindir is in love with both of them, and in the usual fashion no one says anything for far too long).

This is not Tolkien related but I have a lot of Baizhu&Qiqi fics for Genshin Impact floating around my head. Nothing concrete, but I really love them and I want to write for them. Those father-daughter feels, man. There is also something percolating about Baizhu and Qiqi leaving Bubu Pharmacy in Gui's capable hands for a while and going with the traveler to search for immortality for Baizhu. I have nothing beyond that idea-wise. It's just kind of there, but that would be a whole ass Project haha. I just really want to help him.

Writer ask game

[paragonrising]

@jbbarnes liked this for a starter.

Why was it always Earth that weird shit happened to?

Carol floated some distance away from New York City, staring at a… well, it looked alarmingly close to a blackhole. It’d consumed most of the city, and had a drifting debris field circling it. The sliver of comfort she clung to, was that it couldn’t possibly be an actual blackhole. If it was, then Earth would have been destroyed by the time she’d arrived.

That being said, she didn’t know what it was. Maybe a wormhole, but who the hell had opened it and why had it ate New York?

When she dove down to the teams monitoring it – she wasn’t surprised to see different teams clamouring to try and figure out what was going on. S.W.O.R.D was present, as was S.A.B.R.E, NASA… every acronym organisation Carol could think of was here. 

She instinctively headed for S.A.B.R.E.

“There’s a signal coming from it,” a researcher explained, trying his best not to fidget with his tie, glancing at Carol. “We can’t decipher what it says, whatever’s being sent comes out this end completely garbled.”

“Can you at least tell if it’s alien?” She asked.

“No,” he shook his head, “human, alien, AI… whatever it is, it’s too corrupted by the time we receive it for us to properly get anything.” He snapped a finger as if he recalled something, “it sounds like it’s following a pattern though.”

She frowned.

“So, what’s the plan?”

The plan was terrible, not that Carol got a say in it. She was supposed to fly close to the event horizon and hope that her suit’s gear could relay a clearer signal back to S.A.B.R.E command. If not that, then at least pick up something more helpful herself, and return with it. The general consensus was that her powers should protect her from whatever terrible effect the portal could unleash.

Key word: should. That didn’t exactly inspire confidence.

Because there were a few things in the universe Carol decidedly did not mess with. Blackholes were one of them, in fact they were at the top of the damn list. And this thing, while not exactly functioning like a true blackhole, certainly looked the part.

She flew closer, fighting against the sinking feeling in her gut. She passed by pieces of a broken skyscraper, gliding through the debris as if it were an asteroid belt.

Her first hint that something was about to go wrong, was seeing wisps of her energy begin to trail towards the darkness.

“Huh,” Carol frowned, holding up her hand, watching the traces fly towards the blackhole. “That’s not good.”

Her second hint was the stomach-churning sensation of two sources of gravity fighting over her.

The third hint–well, it wasn’t so much as a hint as the realisation that she’d been being pulled closer this entire time, only now had it become obvious. The black horizon she was being dragged to was getting alarmingly large, with nothing inside of it and no light escaping it. Carol tried to fly away and escape, but she couldn’t—and now she was noticing she was getting pulled in faster.

“Oh, shit—”

Carol gasped, eyes snapping open to stare at a sky that was a bright void of white. Her body was sore, and she couldn’t quite remember what happened after she tried to escape the wormhole’s pull. She sat up, finding that she’d landed on a floating piece of sidewalk.

“What the hell…” she murmured, looking around.

The world around her was a whitescape save for chunks of what could only be the remnants of New York City. Pieces of all sizes floating, bouncing off one another and then drifting apart. 

Carol stood, frowning as her ears buzzed from the stark silence of this place. She was thankful when it faded, but what she heard in place of it made her hesitate.

Music.

With no real idea where she should go, she followed the sound, jumping from her little island of concrete to one that looked like a section of an apartment complex. She slipped through a window and landed in an obliterated living room, the couch was sort of just spinning in the air, while a record player floated near to what remained of a wall.

That’s when she saw another person. Someone who looked familiar, but she couldn’t quite place him. He was taller than she was, dark hair, looked a little tired. 

“Hi,” she greeted, “did you... put the music on?”

[mirthmave]

Joker Death HeadCannon

So I've had this floating around my head for a while and decided to flesh it out a bit. This all came about from a Twitter question asking who is going to be the one to finally kill the Joker for good.

For me it comes down to Harley Quinn, Jason Todd and Barbara Gordon. All three have very dark ties to the Joker - Harley with domestic abuse, Jason with his murder and Barbara with him disabling her and sexually assaulting her.

Side note: I'm aware of Duke having ties with the Joker as well, but at the moment I'm having trouble trying to get him into this head cannon, so I've left him out for the moment.

We all know that Jason has it in him to kill the Joker, however, in Under the Red Hood he wanted Bruce to do it so prove that man loved him. That whole story brings in the idea of Red Hood being ready to kill the Joker however Jason Todd wasn't in the place to do so. Jason needed to get into the same mind set at Red Hood and then the Joker would be gone. For the sake of this head cannon, Jason is finally in the place where he's ready to end the clown.

Harley Quinn has done a good job separating herself from the Joker, so I think in order for her to become involved he's going to have done something to Ivy or something along those lines for her to cross that threshold.

For Barbara, I think she has been waiting for someone to take the step towards this and while probably not physically taking part in it, she is going to help keep the evidence factor down for those involved.

Now why all three start working together isn't all that important. Maybe they hear of the Joker having escaped and finally had enough or maybe they got wind of Joker planning something big. Regardless of the reason, the three of them work together. Barbara removes all evidence of Harley and Jason on the ground while Harley and Jason work together to get the Joker. They do it in such a way that he just disappears. No one sees them and any video evidence is non-existent. He just vanishes.

He's then transported somewhere outside of the Gotham city, but still close enough that Jason could be called on to help if need be. Harley and Jason work together to get their frustrations out on the Joker (I won't be too explicit) but when it comes to the final kill shot, Harley is the one that does it. It was decided in a game of rock paper scissors. Victor kills the Joker, Looser chooses where to put his body.

Once the Joker is dead, the two than transport the Joker's body to a place that it is never found.

It doesn't take long for the Gotham PD to work out the Joker is missing and Batman even picks up on the chatter. The Batfam (with Jason and Barbara's help) start searching and eventually find the location of where the Joker is killed. There is enough evidence to confirm that the Joker is dead but nothing to show where his body is or who did the killing. It was like he was just transported there, killed and his body disappeared as did the killer's evidence.

Everyone, but Batman give up on the case. It's the Joker, no one is particularly unhappy the man is dead but Batman needs to know who did it. He begins searching and after a particular hard night of dead ends Alfred comes to him and throws some logic at him. Nothing good is going to come from him finding who killed the Joker? If he does, what is going to happen when the person is arrested? Will people still look at him the same as his sympathizing with a person who has done horrible things? Is he willing to deal with what will happen if he knows the people who did it? Its enough for Bruce to drop it.

And for those wondering, Alfred knows. He always knows. He later invited Jason, Harley and Barbara over for celebratory scones (with jam and cream) and tea.

Over the years, Bruce gets hints as to who did it. He also develops his own suspicions but nothing is concrete enough for him to do anything. Plus he promised Alfred that he would drop it.

Years later, Bruce is on his death bed. Jason arrives to say his goodbyes and when they're alone they start talking about their relationship and the cases they worked on. Bruce says that he feels good knowing that he's going to die having solved all but one of his cases, with the Joker death case being the one that he never got answers for. Bruce even laughs and says that he even suspected that Jason killed the joker but stops when he sees that Jason isn't laughing. Its then that Jason tells him everything (with the permission of Harley and Barbara). Bruce isn't going to be able to do anything and who is going to believe the ramblings of a dying billionaire after all.

When he's done, there is silence and Bruce asks one final question. Where is the Joker's body? They had left enough evidence to suggest death, where is the body?

Jason just smiles and tells Bruce that there is another reason why they chose to stay as close as they did to Gotham. While it would have been easy to leave the city and do it all, there was always going to be a chance that Joker's body would be found. They needed a place that no one would look. And Jason knew of a vacant grave since he had told EVERYONE that he was to be cremated when he dies next.

The night that the Joker died, Harley and Jason drove to the cemetery where Jason's grave still lay and put the Joker in the empty plot. After all, who would think of looking for the Joker in the grave of Bruce Wayne's adopted son?

Final note: If anyone else knows that Jason, Harley and Barbara are involved in the Joker's death before this point, no one says anything. Duke does give Jason a little head nod afterwards so Jason is aware that Duke knows something, but they never actually discuss it.

[potetosaradas]

OHOHOHOHOHOH TUMBLR USER ALLEYCATT722 >:))))))))))

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ASKING!!!!!!!!! (idk why i cant tag u..?) BUT ANYWAY, HEHEHE, ALLOW ME TO EXPLAIN WHY PRECANON PRICKCEST IN PARTICULAR ROTS MY BRAIN LIKE NOTHING ELSE HEHEHEHEHE (its like ive been waiting for this question my entire life) and WHY I CAN NEVER GET ENOUGH OF IT!!!!!!!!!!! NEVER EVER EVER!!!!!!! nYEHEHEHEHEHE (rubbing my hands like a nasty fuckin fly >:))

there are so many reasons why i have obsessed daily for over a year and a half over this particular moment in time between THEY.

FIRST OF ALL, we have canon statements from Rick AND Prime that may have hinted at something more between them than what has been shown to us on screen. Which leads me to believe that they were AT LEAST partners or friends (maybe even fucking im js) but at the VERY LEAST there was something between them in precanon that has not been explored on screen.

Given what Rick Prime's final words were:

“Listen, Rick to Rick, he’s got the weapon plans. Buddy, nip this in the bud. He’s 14. What’s gonna happen the next time he gets mad at grandpa? Let’s do this then. You’re welcome, by the way. I made you. I showed you infinity. And what did you do with it? Hang out with my grandson, raise echoes of my daughter? What’s your life without me?[…] Admit it. You would've been me! I just walked into your garage before you walked into mine! But eventually... you did! YOU LIVED IN MY HOUSE!”

I particularly like to focus on this part: " I made you. I showed you infinity. "

Precanon prickcest allows for SO MANY little brain rot moments that MAY HAVE VERY WELL BEEN CANON!! For example: going on adventures together, making inventions-- generally fucking around doing dumb shit together (refer to the Jerricky episode from s7 lmao) and of COURSE we definitely cannot forget the ice cream..... (if that wasnt proof they were fuckin idk what to tell u sksksksk)

listen, theyre both Ricks. They're both bound to feel strongly and hold onto a grudge but holding onto a grudge for FORTY FUCKIN YEARS IS SOMETHING ELSE ENTIRELY!!! ive said this before and ill say it again BUT U DONT GET TO HATE SOMEONE THAT BAD WITHOUT LOVING THEM JUST AS HARD BEFOREHAND!!! YES im definitely sure Prime killing Rick's family was the straw that broke the camel's back, but i definitely think that there was something else that happened between them that started causing issues in their alignment with each other. What that misunderstanding/argument was about, I have no idea-- i have a few floating ideas but nothing concrete.

Second of all, Rick's character has been undeniably shaped by Prime's influence on him. A lot of his driving motivations stem from his tangled connection with his alternate self-- and not just ANY alternate self- THE ONLY OTHER RICK TO INVENT PORTAL TRAVEL. There isn't much we know about Young Rick-- but we know for certain that hes going to become a tired, jaded, bitter old man who has doggedly chased after the man who changed his life for FORTY+ YEARS. But i like to think that Rick C137 wasn't bitter and jaded his entire life. Precanon prickcest allows me to speculate on Young Rick as a character (total mystery given how much we know about him) and what he was like. Piecing him backwards from canon material and speculating what happened between him and Prime is so much fun.

SECOND REASON WHY I LOVE PRECANON PRICKCEST. The ANGST i get from prickcest in general is phenomenal... but the angst ONLY BECOMES BETTER (like a mature cheese or wine lol) when you speculate on the Good Times (precanon prickcest) if you've ever been wronged by your best friend, you know that shit sticks with you FOREVER. If you've been wronged by your best friend AND lover? Well...... thats something worth rotting over for 40+ years, dont u think LMAO

Precanon vibes are IMMACULATE (i personally love to focus on moments when Diane wasnt even in the picture and it was just them going out doing space boy shit) but when you add Diane to the mix, things become infinitely complicated. THE ANGST AND GUILT FROM CHEATING!!!!! I am almost 100% convinced that Rick was cheating on Diane with Prime. But for me, it's not about the cheating so much as what Diane and Prime mean to Rick.

Rick was presented with two choices: become a trad husband with a picket fence house and a sweet family to match OR to continue cultivating the scientist in himself, exploring all of the universe (and more!! when you consider the multiverse!) we know that Rick didn't have a happy marriage and he looks down on the concept openly. I WONDER WHY I WONDER WHY I WONDER WHY!!!!!!!!!! :)))))) anyway, in the end, it didn't matter. He lost both Diane and Prime.

THIRDLY-- I am ABSOLUTELY a sucker for dynamics like: best friends, partner in crime, friendly(?) rivals and old married couple and the infamous friends to lovers to enemies vibes and precanon prickcest naturally allows me to explore those dynamics, EVEN WITHOUT having to create a canon-divergent AU with Diane dying, u know? ITS ALL THERE, it just needs to be speculated about hehehe which i do. a lot. especially in my fics KJSADHFKJSAH :'DDD

prickcest is not a super fluffy ship when you think about it and i am a fucking slut for fluff... but u know what!!!! PRECANON PRICKCEST ABSOLUTELY ALLOWS FOR FLUFFY MOMENTS BETWEEN THEY AND I EAT IT UP LIKE A SEAGULL ON HOT CHIPS!!!!!! EVERY DAMN TIME!!!!

anyway basically, I love precanon prickcest bc what is it like to fall so deeply in love with your best friend (who is yourself from an alternate dimension??????? this already brings up so many delicious self questioning/self exploring moments lmaooo) ONLY to be betrayed so horrifically, it rots you for 40 years??????? IDK IDK. IM JUST SAYING.

This rant is mostly from a Young Rick perspective, but GOD THINKING ABOUT PRECANON PRICKCEST FROM PRIME'S PERSPECTIVE IS REALLY WHAT GETS ME GOING IM NGL

…. Maybe got a new prickcest fic in the works KSKSKSK

[redrobin-detective]

In a Heartbeat

It was friday night and Superboy, Conner Kent, was stuck in Smallville. Having a real name, a place to crash and people who gave a crap about him was pretty great but the restrictions sometimes felt like a noose around his neck. He’d had next to free reign in Cadmus as their golden project and even in Hawaii he could go flying off to the beaches or jungles at a moment's notice. But Ma, Superman’s mom not his, insisted that a good night's sleep and some peace would help with his restlessness. He groaned and lifted himself off the bed and floated lazily above it.

He was half flipping through a comic book Bart had borrowed him, only half paying attention because he was so bored he could hardly think straight. Plus it was almost offensive now that he was sort of a superhero himself now? It was weird and required too much introspection so he just didn’t think and glossed over the brightly colored pages. Kon was tapping his left finger absentmindedly against his stomach. A soft, steady beat in the back of his head that he also didn’t like thinking too hard about. Didn’t stop him from drawing comfort from it though.

Kon was almost to the end of the comic and had finally sorted out what the characters were talking about when that reliable rhythm he’d come to rely on became suddenly, painfully erratic. He startled, dropping his comic book onto the bed and cocked his head to the side as he held his breath, putting everything he had on his super ears. This happened occasionally, it was nothing to worry about. It was fine, everything was fine.

For a few terrifying moments, that beat stopped but Kon wasn’t in any state to think about it. He’d already burst through his bedroom window, shattering the glass and the frame as he sped as fast as his stolen powers could take him. The parts of him not focusing on going faster, faster, faster were locked on the sound of that beat picking up again, unsteady and irregular. He had no idea what was happening all he knew was that he was going to find out.

XxX

“Eh uh Freddy?” Nick ‘the Bolt’ Bolton asked his partner in crime and also love because it's the 21st century and love is love. “We sure that was a good idea?” He was leaning over the side of the Gotham Life building, clenching and unclenching his fists nervously. It sure was a long way down with nothing but hard concrete waiting on the bottom. 

“Relax, Bolt,” Freddy soothed, tucking the taser back into his back belt pocket. “The kid’s a bit frazzled but he’s a Bat. He’ll be grappling away any second now and flying off to daddy bats right now so, come on ya big lug, we gotta skedaddle with our score before they come back.”

“I don’t know, Freddy,” Bolt muttered as he watched Robin continue to drop like a stone, his bright outfit growing smaller by the second as he got closer to the ground. “He’s not moving or nothing.”

Freddy had been prepared for Batman should he show up for their heist. The fact that the newest Robin had arrived instead had messed up their plan. They’d fought, the kid hit tough he had to admit, until Bolt had been able to grab him. He’d held the kid, just a little guy no bigger than his youngest cousin who’d just started high school, while Freddy had used his taser on him. His ears are still ringing from how loudly the boy had screamed. But the device had been wired for a man at least twice his age and weight. When Bolt had let go of the kid, he’d staggered like an old drunk until he tipped over the side of the building. And now he was watching the kid drop with no signs of slowing or stopping himself.

“Then we’ve done the underworld a favor,” Freddy said with a little whistle as he joined Bolt at the edge of the building and watched the probably knocked out Robin continue to fall. “We’re gonna have some serious street cred if word gets around we offed a Bat. Remember that guy, Sid the Squid I think his name was? The one who almost took out the Bat? That’ll be us, baby. Now come on, I don’t wanna be around when Batsy finds out his bird fell outta the nest.”

“He’s just a little boy, I didn’t want to hurt him,” Bolt frowned sadly before following after Freddy. There wasn’t much anyone could do at this point. If Batman were nearby, he’d have swooped in long ago. There was nothing or no one who could help Robin now. Bolt had done a lot of things in his life he wasn’t proud of but he’s pretty sure killin’ a kid, even accidentally, who was only trying to help people would be the top of that list. “Sorry Robin.”

“Hey,” Freddy said, stopping suddenly and causing Bolt to run into him. “You hear that, Bolt?”

“Hear what, Freddy?” Bolt stuck a finger in his ear, “my head’s still ringing from- from you know.” Actually, now that Fred mentioned it there was some sorta high pitched whining in the air. He’d thought it’d been Robbie’s screams but the sound was only getting louder, like a plane approaching only a hundred times faster.

“I don’t like this, get your keister in gear!” Freddy said suddenly, bolting for the door to get them away from the scene of their crime. A loud boom crackled in the air, like thunder only right next to them. There was a blur, one Bolt barely saw in between blinks but you couldn’t miss the roaring sound or how all the windows on the surrounding buildings shattered. Freddy was taking the stairs down two at a time but Bolt was curious, he had to know. He ran back to the side of the building and looked down, bracing himself for what he was gonna see. 

“Oh my god,” he said to himself as he took in the sight below before running after his lover for the stairs. 

XxX

Clark’s phone was ringing. He blinked sleepily at the clock. Clark’s phone was ringing at 2:49 in the morning.

“If someone isn’t dead, I’ll kill them myself,” Lois grumbled next to him, covering her head with a pillow. Clark fumbled for the device and answered it with trepidation. Lois had probably been joking but calls at just shy of 3 am rarely had good news.

“Hello?” He questioned.

“Superman,” Clark sat up straight. Bruce sounded rough, his voice raw and aching like he’d packed all of his suffering into his words. He also called Clark’s personal phone, not his separate JLA number. An easy mistake anyone could make, anyone but Batman. Something was wrong. Really wrong. “You’re needed in Gotham.”

“I’ll be there in less than a minute,” Clark said in a rush as he threw off his blankets and threw on his costume. Lois was sleepily blinking at him as she turned on the bedside light. Desperate for courage, he kissed her deeply. “I have to go.”

“I’ll put on coffee,” she said, slipping out of bed. “I’ll be here if you need me.” Clark was out of their apartment and in downtown Gotham moments later. He’s not sure what he expected, mass destruction and mayhem considering how destroyed Bruce had sounded on the phone. 

He was floating over an ordinary street, there were two police cars parked next to a tall building, the cops aggressively hauling out two handcuffed criminals. There was a ridiculous amount of broken glass everywhere, covering the streets, obviously from all of the broken windows on most of the block. What the hell had happened here?

“Superman,” he turned to Bruce’s voice, still as shaky and barely held together as he’d sounded earlier. The first thing he noticed was that B was over a block away from the presumed crime scene, not sneaking around on the edges as usual. The second was that Batman didn’t have his cape on. Clark isn’t sure how much he buys Bruce’s theory on criminals being superstitious and cowardly but he certainly looked so much more like an ordinary, vulnerable man without the dark, heavy cape. He sped forward and grabbed his friend by the shoulders.

“What happened?” 

“Robin,” Bruce said slowly, his throat constricting as he struggled to get the words out. “I was on the other side of town, near the Bowery. Robin was supposed to head back to base. It was late and he had school in the morning. He came across an attempted robbery on his way,” Bruce was practically shaking under Clark’s grip. Oh god.

It’s been only a few years since Jason had passed and Clark knew the scars that boy’s death left on Bruce’s heart ran deep. He’d been so thankful to Tim for stepping in when none of them had been able to, for saving Bruce’s life when he’d been at his lowest. Such a bright, brilliant boy. Batman wouldn’t recover from losing another partner, another son.

“They caught him off guard, tazed him into unconsciousness then tossed him off the side of the Gotham Life Building,” Batman growled. “It’s 102 stories tall.” 

“Bruce…” he murmured quietly. His friend took a long, deep breath and then forced himself to relax. He looked at something over his shoulder.

“Superboy caught him less than 2 feet from hitting the pavement at terminal velocity,” Clark stopped and took in the words Bruce just told him. He peeked over Bruce’s shoulder and saw Kon and Tim huddled under Batman’s cape, shivering and looking very scared and very young. The hands he’d set on Bruce’s shoulders in an attempt to offer comfort were instead used to steady himself.

For a few terrible moments, he thought he’d lost another nephew and his best friend in the process. 

“H-how, how could he have possibly-”

“Apparently,” Bruce enunciated sharply. In the background, Clark saw Kon drop his head deeper into the cape. “Your boy has memorized the sound of my boy’s heartbeat and listens to it sometimes. When Robin’s heart temporarily stopped from the tazing, Superboy raced over at supersonic speed, which shattered all the glass windows on the block. He used his telekinetic powers to grab ahold of Robin so the speed didn’t injure him. The sudden stop woke Robin and he hit the emergency alarm, alerting me to what had happened.” 

“Oh,” Clark said softly, looking over again at Tim and Kon with new eyes. He still felt kind of awkward around his clone, not really sure what to do with a teenager made of his stolen DNA. But he did know it took time and love to keep another person's sound in your head. Knew it like he knew Ma was pacing the farmhouse anxiously over Conner’s sudden disappearance and Lois was tapping her coffee cup on the counter as she awaited news. 

He didn’t know much about clones but he did know about Love. And maybe Conner did too. Maybe they did have something in common besides their powers after all. 

“You want me to take Kon home?” He asked quietly. 

“No, Superboy will be staying the night with us. My attempts to extradite the two of them have been so far unsuccessful,” Bruce said with the first hints of some emotion other than exhaustion and barely controlled fear. He sounded fond in the most exasperated way possible. “I wanted to update you on the situation so you can pass the word along to your mother about Superboy’s whereabouts. If she could call him out of school for the day, I’ll ensure he’s returned safely sometime later today after the boys have slept and recovered a bit.”

“Right, can do,” he said, finally allowing himself to relax since he first woke up to his phone ringing. “You know, you could have just called Ma yourself.”

“I learn from my partners as much as they learn from me,” Bruce reached up and gripped onto Clark’s wrist so tightly it would have bruised a normal human. As relieving as it was that Tim was alive and well, it had still been far too close a call for the Dark Knight. Poor boy was going to be absolutely drowned in Bruce’s paranoid fussing for the next week at least. “Robin has his Kryptonian here so it’s only natural that I called in mine.”

“Of course Bruce, anytime,” he smiled. “Kon,” he called over and watched the boy lift his head warily. “Good work, kid. Get some sleep and take care of your friend. I’ll cover for you back home though from what I hear Ma muttering about now, you did a real number on the window during your exit.”

“I’ll be paying for it,” Bruce interrupted, turning again to look at the boys. “It will be fixed by the time Superboy returns home. Money, a window, some things aren’t so easily replaceable.” 

“I know better than to fight you on that,” Clark chuckled. “I’ll let you get the boys taken care of. Keep me up to date about when we can expect Kon back home.”

“Of course,” Bruce nodded. “And in return,” he added, much softer. “I expect you to have a talk with your boy about privacy and how to properly court a young man like my son.” Kon started wheezing under the cape and Tim leaned closer to him, asking what B had just said. 

Clark snorted, he remembered being young and in love once. Kon sure had his work cut out for him. But if the kid was willing to fly halfway across the country out of fear for his friend, then Batman wasn’t going to be a problem. In fact, Bruce was probably secretly delighted to have Kon’s ears trained on Tim’s heartbeat. Love had a way of bringing the most unlikely of people together and that’s what kept the world interesting. 

[reilliane]

Devilry ✤ Scaramouche

D e v i l r y 

A/N: This was my first piece for Scaramouche of course I had to insert the fandango meme- 

Italicized text depicts a character’s thoughts~

✤ she/her

Words: 2.1k

≿————-　❈　————-≾

Who would've thought that after living under the sky that transcended over the years of old and new, it's nothing but a hoax? He wouldn't have known if he hadn't arrived to witness what the large chunk of meteorite wished to tell whoever touched it. 

Certainly, it was befuddling—and he's more than befuddled, to say the least.

Being assigned to research about the sudden crashing of those azure chunks from the firmament didn't pique him much, until now. There are still too few ideas -though concrete- to align the dots and conceive a conclusion, but knowing a small segment of the truth still took the Fatui one step closer to fulfilling the Tsaritsa's plan. 

That is more than enough, unlike that poor traveller.

The young Harbinger scoffs to himself, his arms folded as he leaned on the stone walls of the ruins' remnants scattered all over the lands of wind. 

It's a rather fortuitous feat that he wasn't visited by the Anemo Archon when he's heard of the eventful deal—aka the Geo Archon himself coming to reproach a Harbinger—over at Liyue, but he surmises there's a reason why Mondstadt's Archon is dubbed Freedom.

He thought he would've fought one.

Maybe their Archon is just absent, or just really lazy.

If not for the Millelith or that mage, he would've gotten himself a battle.

"My lord, the other troops have covered up the rest of the meteorite by the peaks of Liyue, they're about to return," said the same female soldier who reports to him personally, and he breathes out with a peeved tone accompanying his response. 

It's obvious to note that he's still a bit bitter over not having to take the Honorary Knight down himself.

After receiving her next orders, the soldier moves to inform the rest under his command, but halts upon remembering something.

Her reluctance to leave only spikes up the gnawing irritation of the dark-haired male, his deep hues of indigo starting to narrow as he turns—but he's already fed with some different kind of report.

"Mistress Fiore, she—"

It happened before the woman could continue.

A gust of wind from nowhere blew by, it was strong that he heard its whistle. Any stronger and it just might be poignant enough to slice through his skin.

Then came a voice he dreaded and loathed to hear.

"I see a little silhouetto of a man~"

You gotta be kidding me.

Reopening his eyes after closing them to avoid getting dust in his optics, a spike of annoyance immediately flared inside as he stomachs in the sight of another Fatui standing—or well, in this case, floating—in front of him. The mask over her face hovered just a few inches away from his face and he instantly steps back, pushing the figure away with a minuscule zip of electricity that was only laughed at.

The female soldier has already silenced herself at the appearance, and the Electro-user could care less.

"Scaramo—"

"And what are you doing here?" he abruptly cuts her off with distaste, making sure to put emphasis on his tone.

The masked newcomer playfully twists in the air, her feet barely touching the ground as anemo helped her stay afloat, petals of various flowers flying all around her like some sort of aura as she giggled.

"I brought them here, of course," his troops were sent hurling from somewhere and onto the grass, landing roughly on their knees and backs, 

"You ought to commend them for being so obedient to your words." he rolls his eyes at this, his hands moving to rest on his hips as the soldiers on his feet hurried to kneel properly. 

He doesn't miss how the girl bent over to appraise if she's been a bit rough (considering she threw them from the air) in her usage of her Vision, but stood back up when she sees that all is fine and dandy.

Scaramouche scoffs.

"Why? That is the exact reason why you were kicked out of the Eleven, if I must remind you." his scorn is evident, that is obvious, but the ex-Harbinger could care less.

In fact, she only twirled back into the air, allowing the numerous nameless flowers to pluck off the earth to swirl around her being.

"For being spirited unlike the rest of you? Sure, believe what you want, but I abdicated my place willingly," she says with indifference, bouncing up and around the wind whilst humming. Much to the fervid exasperation brewing from the other end of the conversation.

"I took your role as the Sixth because you were too soft, pretty pathetic, don't you think?" Scaramouche taunts with a conniving laugh, his shoulders quaking at the sight of her tensing up, "That battle between us settled the ends, the winner gets rewarded."

The wind around them picks up speed and his smirk grows.

Good, just a little more push and he's set to show her a piece of his mind—

"My, Balladear,"

He choked.

The onlooking soldiers coughed.

"You look kind of cute without your hat, no?"

What—

Immediately, his smirk drops and his hands flew up to his hair, expecting to feel the material of his hat—but there was nothing but the soft texture of his smooth hair. His expression hardens as he hears the mocking laugh resonating with a clear purpose in the breeze, ringing like chimes of a godawful bell from Mondstadt's cathedral.

He glances down at the soldiers and finds them instantaneously snapping their gazes back down—and the fury in him sparks up.

"Who gave you the permission to look, you nitwits?" he sneers.

A bunch of apologies came after another laugh and he hisses back at the floating girl, his scoff-like laughter having a tint of derisiveness.

"It appears that you're bitter over your petty loss," he laughs, "And you stoop into annoying me, is that it?"

The girl—Mistress Fiore, as called by the soldiers—shrugs playfully, the mask that hid half her face and her eyes crinkling up as she smiles.

"I dunno, but your hat is over there!"

Following the direction where her finger is pointing, he cusses inwardly when he notes it to be stuck in the middle of the branches of a towering tree. He can see the translucent fabric attached to it billowing in the winds, almost like its calling out for him to retrieve. 

Scaramouche lifts his chin and stares back at the female with a glower, one that was only answered by another giggle.

She knew that domineering look.

"The almighty Sixth Harbinger is ordering someone to come and take his hat for him? From a mere tree?!" she gasps dramatically, turning upside down as she continues, "Hasten, everyone! Let us all join forces to take down nature's prime beast!"

"Pfft—"

Scaramouche swivels around the second he hears someone stifling in their amusement, and he is far from being amused. If anything, they should be wary of him now that he's been provoked too much. But again, that is already a given when the Mistress comes in to crash his party.

There's just always some kind of heat—be it of irritation or mockery—between them.

More often than not, the Eleventh Harbinger would join—so thank the false stars that the child isn't here right now.

"What's the matter, afraid of heights?"

The Electro-user glares at the still-floating girl, zips of violet beginning to line his arms, but she only ever laughed again.

"Oh~ Thunderbolts and lightning, very, very frightening!" she hums, her pearly whites showing when he ceases to execute his attack and turns to address his soldiers.

Ordering them to scamper away upon command and per adherence to the mission he had assigned them just at the site, the small party of four hurries to do his bidding, knowing it's best to follow and not ask anything else lest his fury befalls unto them. 

Afterwards, he scoffs at the girl and makes his way towards the tree, not wasting a single breath in scaling up its bark.

Scaramouche is one second away from zipping her with his lightning as she floated up beside him with a thoughtful hum.

"Mm, never thought you'd be one to climb.."

"Where the hell are you even looking at?!" he snaps.

Another laugh.

"The back of your head of course! You look even tinier without your large hat!"

The Harbinger whisks out said item from the branches and hopped off, placing it back on its rightful position atop his head and flying out a curse towards the female. Her reaction is always the same; waning out her bemusement as she allows the wind to keep her afloat, still keeping the stupid grin on her face and taking delight in making a fool out of him.

What a demon, she is.

He snorts.

Two can play at that game.

"You are as childish as you were," Balladeer mentions, flamboyance lacing his tone as he adjusted the hat on his head, the lines of electric violet starting to decorate and form a kind of aura around him. "No wonder you lost to me."

He was suspended in midair before he could even take another step further away from the devil, and he sucks in his gasp when he's turned upside down, his hands flying to clutch his hat lest it falls. The gales are stronger than ever, and he didn't know such force could be emitted from a mere Vision holder. It was almost exciting that he had begun to release searing crackles of electricity from all around him.

But that, too, was nullified when the girl taps his nose, a layer of frost brushing over his being and he twitches—the taste of superconduct icing and searing him from within.

His eyes widen briefly.

Cryo? He never—

"And you're as ignorant as ever," the girl whispers and he swore he saw a spark of a [c] glow pulsing behind her mask, "Might I remind you that I only ever used my Vision, when you on the other hand, used your Delusion, as well." 

The gales started turning icy as her tone lowers, sapping away his electro and actually starting to amplify the sizzling sensation of superconduct.

His violet eyes widen as she leans further down, her gale slamming his back harshly unto the ground in retrospect to their battle in the Tsaritsa's palace. Only now, he wasn't met with the rockhard texture of marble, but the embrace of earth.

The sun is stymied only by the looming figure of the ex-Harbinger who hovered over with her anemo continuing to press and restrain him.

"I opted to dilly dally 'round under the order of the Third, but I can easily take my spot back, Scaramouche."

She then brings him back up to stand, his rare look of surprise coming from being stupefied a little too much to handle. It was a miracle she didn't threw in another fit of laughter at his gaping face. Oh, how it feels nice to win an argument.

Tipping her head, she advances forward, her hand yanking down his hat and forcing him to look down.

"If anything! You'd be the softer one out of us,"

He's already shaking, oh, he's mad.

"And the funnier! I gotta go now, but before that, I want to say one thing I heard from you!"

Balladeer slaps her hand away, the contact allowing him to strike her with a small bolt that had her jumping for a quick second. Though she was quick to recover from it.

"Get away from my sight already." he demands, and the ex-Harbinger plops a hand onto his head, ignoring his growl.

She then sends another gust of wind to catch him off-guard, laughing still as she disappears with a perfect imitation of,

"See 'ya sucker!"

The Electro-user immediately stands ground, his electro already in the process of accumulating its critical state. Just a mere command and direction and off it would've blasted away the head of that devil, but she had already vanished into thin air. She left no obvious traces of her presence but the shredded petals that were plucked from the flowers in her wind, aside from that, nothing else.

"Tch."

He'll get her next time.

What's there to be afraid of Anemo and Cryo?

The Harbinger passes by a small hillock, planning to take the road back to Liyue and hunt that demon along the way, but stops when he sees a flicker of violet robe.

Needing not to use his voice, the eavesdropping figure reveals themselves—and he would've punished them right then and there if it's not his personal soldier.

"And why have you lagged behind?" he asks with a scowl, making sure to bare his electro.

The woman bows her head.

"Oh.. it's just that, my lord.."

How odd. Why does she sound unsure?

".. Mistress Fiore has taken your hat again."

WHAT—

Scaramouche dreadfully raises his hands to his hair and—

That sly little—

His outraged voice rings out in the empty prairies.

"[NAME]!!"

If one listened closely, they would hear the chime-like simper amidst the wind—and the mumblings of an angry midget Harbinger.

≿————-　❈　————-≾

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　To the Scrying Glass　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

[kiki-shortsnout]

Hey Kiki, who's ya doing? May I ask 7, 10, 11, 12, 27, 29 and 30 from Ao3 Wrapped? I know, that these are too many, but, pardon me, I couldn't help :D. Also, wish ya a great holidays ahead..🎄

Hi there! I’m doing well thank you! 🤗 Sorry for the time it took to respond! I’m trying to get a “small” Christmas fic written for Christmas Eve which is running away from me!🤣🤣

7: If you use song lyrics, which artist’s songs did you pull from the most?

I don't use song lyrics in my stories I'm afraid, I listen to a lot of music, but I don't think I've ever included lyrics.... apart from that one-time Tony was singing to Stephen in Love, Dreams and Coffee Machines.

10: What work was the quickest to write?

Good question! @magicaltear asked this too and you can find the answer here!

11: What work took you the longest to write?

Betwixt. That took me six months to write, but there was probably about a month of planning and plotting before I sat down to write and edit it.

12: How many WIP’s do you have in your docs for next year?

Currently only one. It’s a 50k IronStrange story that I’m hoping to have done by January (Real life and work permitting) I have a few ideas floating around for stories, but nothing concrete yet.

27: What do you listen to while writing?

I listen to a lot of Indie and K-pop music while I’m writing, occasionally some soundtracks from Anime and the games I’ve been playing (Persona 4 at the moment). When I’m editing it tends to be what I class as background music, instrumental and relaxing pieces to not distract me.

29: Favourite line/passage you wrote this year?

Ooo tricky question… it’s a toss-up between: All of us, we’re irreplaceable, unique, there isn’t anyone else like Stephen, and while I might have fallen in love again with someone else, I just…haven’t. From Without You. The other is: Tony Stark might have been breathtaking, but he was a poisoned chalice. From Betwixt, those are the two that stick out the most for me.

30: Biggest surprise while writing this year?

This one is easy, Fandral’s character in Betwixt. He was originally meant to make a play for Tony and serve no other purpose than to make Loki jealous, to be the stereotypical hot-headed Alpha who doesn’t say no. As I wrote the story an unlikely friendship bloomed between him and Tony and I changed his story arc into more of a supportive, while flirty friend, which I wasn’t expecting!

Thank you so much for the ask and please don’t apologise for the amount asked, honestly, I love interactions so thank you so much for asking! Take care and Happy Holidays!🎁  🎁