#just to get the sick out of their community you know. getting real desperate

[dronningreid]

Between letters.

When reader has been acting weird lately, Reid thinks she's going to break up with him but she's actually terrified because she has to give him some life-changing news.

who? Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

category: angst/fluff

warnings: Reid is hopeless, reader is a little mean because she doesn't know how to deal with the stress of her secret. Both must work on their communication. English is not my first language (if i forget something let me know, this is my first time doing this)

word count: 2.6K

a/n: Hello! Thank you to everyone who took the time to read what i wrote with so much love. I have written books, stories, poems but never a fanfic and i must admit that i enjoyed this a lot. Well, without further ado i hope you enjoy this and let me know if you liked it.

It is said that we should wait for good things. But it is so difficult to wait for them when we find ourselves in such a deep abyss, where we believe that the only thing we need is that warm ray of joy to get us out of the pond, to save us from dying in agony.

Spencer needed that warm ray of joy after Maeve's death. He desperately needed to feel alive again, but he had to wait what seemed like an eternity for you to come into his life.

Yet every devastating event like that leaves wounds that bleed into scars, some take perhaps too long and as the blood pours out, it destroys hope.

That's what happened to Reid. Because the day Maeve died, his hopes of having a wife and children, of having a family, died with her…

You came along a couple of years later. You admit that winning Spencer over was something that took time, it was slow but it was worth every second.

You were also thankful that he wasn't like the other jerks you dated before, who thought you would die for them just because you were the one who made the first move.

And that was the difference between you and Spencer. You never let that get you down, you kept trying until you found the one. Who knew it would be someone with three PhDs? Your trusted tarot reader, duh. But you didn't believe it, the guy seemed too perfect to be real.

But there he was, spinning around in his swivel chair when you first walked into the BAU bullpen.

"Who is he?" you asked with a curiosity you hadn't experienced in years.

"Oh, that's Spencer. One of our resident geniuses." The sweet Penelope Garcia cleared up your doubts.

Spencer.

The name tasted so sweet on your lips, it sounded so right. That was the day you decided he would be for you.

Of course you needed some extra help. You were trying to win over someone who hadn't dated in a long time and was also a bit reserved. Luckily for you, Morgan's advice scared him off so you followed JJ's, although it also helped that he was definitely mhm curious? about you.

Well no, he actually thought you were a little crazy for staring at him so intently from a distance. And he thought you were weird, but he was too so it just made both fit together like puzzle pieces.

The relationship seemed to be going great, both loved each other and he couldn't imagine his life without you. But if Spencer Reid had learned something in his life, it was that happiness lasts much less time than pain.

You were acting a little weird around him lately, you were irritable and he definitely knew you were hiding something.

"I think she's going to break up with me." One day he decided to confess his feelings to Morgan, when they were alone in the conference room.

Morgan frowned and dropped the current case file onto the table. “You’re kidding, right?” But with no response, Morgan knew otherwise. "Reid. She loves you so much it makes me a little sick.”

Reid remained with his worried expression. "She's slow to respond to my texts, she avoids me, and there's definitely something she's not telling me.” He counted your recent actions on his fingers before crossing his arms.

Morgan raised an eyebrow. "Don't tell me you're profiling her."

Reid frowned. "What? Of course not." Yeah, that means of course yes.

Morgan shrugged. "Just talk to her or ask the girls, they should know something." This time he gave some good advice, not like the ones he used to give you.

Reid did as Morgan told him, but absolutely no one knew what was going on with you. Although everyone agreed that you were definitely hiding something.

You took a sip of coffee. "I watched that movie last night. People said it was really funny but I found it boring, although I admit the plot twist made me cry.” Yes, lately many things made you cry and it wasn't because of your moon in Pisces.

Anderson nodded. "Exactly! I couldn't even finish watching. I fell asleep."

“Anderson, would you excuse us for a minute?" Reid's appearance was a surprise, his insistence on talking to you wasn't.

"Of course, see you later." Then once Anderson left, Reid stood in front of you.

"What's wrong?" He got straight to the point, not like the previous times.

"Me? Nothing's wrong, I'm perfectly fine." But the drumming of your fingers on your coffee glass gave you away.

"Oh, of course." He crossed his arms, oh no, it seems his infinite patience turned out to be finite.

You immediately took a defensive stance. "Yes. I was perfectly fine before you came to interrupt my conversation with Anderson."

"About movies?" He didn't say it, but you knew he thought it was a nonsense, at least now that he was definitely irritated.

“Yes!" Your outburst earned you a few glances from the other agents. But both were too wrapped up in the tense conversation to deal with them.

"Sure, you have time to talk to other people about movies, but you don't even say a damn good morning to me.” You had to be careful what you said, you were in unfamiliar territory now, as Reid didn't usually swear.

"You're overreacting." Yeah... That probably wasn't the most brilliant thing you've ever said, but you were trying not to give away your secret, at least not yet.

“Overacting?” He was offended by your words. “You talk to everyone in the building except me. You used to spend as much time with me as possible, did I do something wrong?” A hint of fear and insecurity crept into his annoyed tone.

You shook your head. “Of course not.”

He put his hand on your shoulder. “Then tell me what’s wrong.” His tone was firm, but not harsh. Although it was obvious that he wasn't making a request of you.

"Spencer, I already told you that nothing is wrong with me." You emphasized the nothing.

He exhaled in frustration, he was 90% sure that this would work. "Fine! Then don't tell me anything." His patience had run out and he wasn't going to beg you anymore. It had been a week like this and he couldn't take it anymore, so he let go of your shoulder and walked away without even looking at you or giving you a sweet kiss on the cheek.

∗⋅✧⋅∗

Everything was dark, you reached for the light switch and then the spotlight illuminated your apartment. It was a less warm space without Spencer there.

You sighed before throwing your bag on the couch and closed the door.

You stood there for a couple of minutes staring at the lonely space. Well since you became Spencer Reid's girlfriend there weren't many lonely nights, mornings or afternoons.

You would definitely prefer him to be here right now, rambling or mumbling a foreign language movie to you. But for now you had to keep your secret, and that meant keeping Reid away.

The growl of your stomach snapped you out of your mind, so you headed straight for the fridge. But the smell of something made you nauseous, so you immediately ran to the bathroom to empty the contents of your stomach on the toilet.

Yes. You had to hurry to sweeten this horrible memory with a concerned Spencer who would hold your hair and rub your back while you threw up.

After dinner and take a warm shower, you were tired enough to do anything else, so you settled into bed to sleep. But your brain had other plans…

"You look... not very awake." Tara commented as soon as you dropped your coat on the back of your chair.

"I only slept three damn hours," you nearly growled before throwing yourself into the chair and running your hands over your face. You needed a liter of coffee.

Tara stopped typing on her computer and looked at you. "Is this something to do with your strange behavior the last week?" When she got no response, she said your name seriously.

You pulled your hands away from your face. “I…” you began to fiddle with the rings on your fingers, the burden of unspoken words beginning to weigh on your shoulders. "God, why does everyone suddenly care about my fucking life?" You opted for annoyance as the perfect disguise for your vulnerability.

"Hey. None of us want to bother you, but we care about your life because we are your friends and we love you." Tara used a serious tone, like a scolding, but there was genuine affection behind her words. "Besides, Reid is suffering because of your attitude."

A pang of guilt hit your chest. “I don’t want to hurt him.” You whispered.

“I know.” She walked over to your desk. “But you’re hurting him, even if you don’t mean to.”

You swallowed before looking up. "It's just that there's something..." You took a deep breath, this was harder than you thought. "Things are changing, things are definitely going to change if I say this, it's going to be real and I don't know how to feel about it. I need someone to tell me what to do, because I feel so lost."

Tara placed one of her hands over yours. "Well, if I'm going to help you, I need you to tell me what's wrong." Her voice was warm.

"I want Spencer to know first." But your half-hearted answer was enough for her to know.

"In that case you should tell him, because none of his PhDs include mind reading." She made a little joke that actually made you smile.

"Yeah, I know. He'll probably solve everything out like he always does." Then you looked straight at his empty desk, at the nameplate: Spencer Reid. "But I want to give him a surprise, something that will make him happy. I can't just walk up and say hey…” Then you forced yourself to close your mouth when you realized you were going to say more than necessary, although in reality Tara already had her suspicions.

"Okay, I'll help you." She sounded very determined and you really appreciated her help and that she wouldn't question you as much as the others.

∗⋅✧⋅∗

You spun around in your chair and then had an epiphany, but not like the Taylor Swift song. "Crossword!" Your excitement got you the looks of several agents in the bullpen, luckily one of them was Tara.

"With a secret message?"

"Yes. It's literally the best way." You said excitedly.

But in your mind everything was easier than it really was.

You ruffled your hair as you forced yourself to think more, giving you a splitting headache. "When did I think this would be a good idea? Doing a crossword puzzle for the average person is easy, but not for a genius with an IQ of 187." You dropped your head onto your desk.

"You need help."

"But who's as smart as Spencer?" You muttered defeated, still with your head hidden between your arms and the wood of the desk.

Someone ruffled your hair. “Mhm. Tesla? Einstein?”

You immediately raised your head, only to see the famous Derek Morgan. “They’re dead.” You snorted.

Morgan raised his hands in peace. "Hey, what's the bad mood, baby girl? I just answered your question." He let out one of his signature laughs.

You rolled your eyes. You wished you could turn off some damn switch that was responsible for making you so easily angry. God, WHY? You were starting to get desperate.

"Blake!" Another epiphany, you were really on top of it. You didn't even explain it to Tara, you just ran to the parking lot to get your phone which you had forgotten in the car.

Alex Blake was happy to help you put together a crossword puzzle for Spencer. Although she warned you that he once solved one in about five minutes.

Yeah, well, you were going to take the risk.

Once the crossword puzzle with the secret message was ready, you set out to find Reid.

As you were leaving Garcia's office he was getting out of the elevator, but he didn't even notice you. He continued on his way and god, why did he look so attractive?

"Spencer." You caught up to him as he walked up the stairs.

"Not now, I'm busy." He replied with a seriousness not typical of him.

"With what?" You frowned.

"I said I'm busy." I didn't even look at you as he continued walking to the conference room.

You called out to him, but he ignored you. “We need to talk.” You said seriously, raising your voice.

He stopped in his tracks immediately, freezing halfway. He had never experienced anything like this before, but he knew well what we need to talk meant.

He turned to look at you, with an expression that betrayed nothing of what he truly felt. "I said I'm busy, we'll talk later." That didn't convince you. “I have to do a geographic profile and you have to work on victimology like Hotch asked you to.”

The end was near? You were beginning to doubt and he was very sure, only that he would delay it as much as he could.

∗⋅✧⋅∗

You were about to give up, but you really needed him to know. So you resorted to plan B.

"Derek Morgan, my favorite person in the world." You appeared in front of him, with a big smile.

Morgan let out a light laugh. "Yeah sure, what can I do for you, gorgeous?"

"I think Spencer is upset with me."

"He definitely is." He said it without hesitation and it definitely didn't help the state of your aching heart.

"Okay..." You handed him the crossword puzzle. "Could you please give him this for me?"

He picked up the crossword puzzle. "If you think he's going to forgive you for avoiding him for a week just by giving him a crossword puzzle that he'll finish in two seconds, you might be right."

"Just give it to her, okay?"

"Of course. But in exchange for Penelope being the godmother.”

You immediately frowned, but you reacted a little late because Morgan had already left to deliver your order.

From your desk you watched everything. From how Morgan entered the conference room to give Spencer the crossword puzzle to how the bastard answered it in five minutes. When it took you like three hours to do.

But the best part was when he realized the secret message and ran out of the conference room.

But when he saw you, his quickened steps took on a much, much slower pace.

"Tell me what's true." His low tone sounded like a plea.

A slight smile appeared on your face. "Yeah. That's why I've been acting weird, you know I can't keep secre-"

Your words were cut off when his lips met yours. In a kiss so sweet and soft that it was enough to dispel every single one of your doubts.

A few seconds later, he pulled away from the kiss, leaving you wanting more.

He caressed your cheek with his thumb. "You didn't have to do a crossword puzzle to tell me you were pregnant."

"I wanted to surprise you." You whispered.

A smile that could light up this whole town formed on his lips. "I love you so much." He then kissed you warmly again.

🏷️ @floraisunwell

And so it was that the foundations that had crumbled with Maeve's death slowly re-emerged. They began to build themselves again with your arrival and now with this news, their foundations were stronger than ever, because at last he was going to have the family he had dreamed of for a tortuous time.

[genderqueerdykes]

I’ve been feeling really sad lately bc after this latest rise in anti transmasc sentiment I’ve had to unfollow some trans women I’ve been following for literal years bc they started reblogging and posting really nasty and very uncharitable things abt transmascs on my feed. And like. These are women whose voices I very much respected and listened to, and to hear them basically say they consider me an enemy who can’t be trusted bc I want to talk about my experiences, but all of our issues are really just splash damage from bigotry directed at them and talking abt my own experiences without acknowlefing that it’s not really meant for me is wrong. It’s like. So hurtful. And it makes me feel really hopeless about the future of the trans community.

How do I fight back against that hopelessness?

it really sucks and i'm sorry you're also being affected by this. i hear people talk about this every single day and i really don't like that this is just becoming a default in the trans community in general. it seems like the default mode of most online queers is hating transmascs and trans men as if that will somehow make cishet society accept them more. it's selfish behavior.

i'm an intersex trans woman and it's hard for me to interact with the online transfem and trans woman communities, because we're seeing a new experience in the form of transradfeminism, where trans women proudly adopt the anti-man ideals from rad feminism and spread it like it's the truth. it's a sad and painful thing to say, but these trans women are doing this because they believe rad fems and women who hate men are the only "Real" women and desperately want to be seen as "real" women. it stems from their personal dysphoria rooted in manhood, how they take out their own dysphoria in being seen as men on men and mascs. it comes from a place of pain, and it is misguided. instead of directing their hatred toward transmisogyny, they keep it inside the community. it's vile.

it's really sad but trans women and transfems are not immune to being indoctrinated by rad fems and terfs. applying those ideals to being trans isn't progressive. dictating who is and isn't trans is an act of policing. feeling as though one has the right to sit there and claim to know every trans experience, claiming to be the authority on transness... it's fascism.

i'm just plain tired of hearing people make fun of afab trans people and trans men and to talk about them like they're a blight on the community. im tired of people saying things like "do we really need more men?" i'm really sick and tired of chronically online people saying that trans men "aren't real trans people". this one really pisses me off. implying that trans womanhood and transfemininity are the only "real" ways to be trans is also identity policing. what is "unreal" about trans men? i'm tired of trans men being treated like they're unreliable. i'm tired of people wearing their misogyny on their sleeve to constantly treat trans men like they are not reliable narrators. i'm tired of people thinking somehow the instant you begin identifying as a man, you benefit from patriarchy.

i'm tired that people seriously think trans men and mascs can't coin terms for their own experiences. why the hell not? they happen, just because you don't see them personally doesn't mean they don't happen. i have met and lived with so many transmascs over the years, and we've all shared very similar stories about the discrimination we face. it's not spitting in the face of anyone to coin terms like transandrophobia and antimasculism. they happen just as often as transmisogyny does, and happily participating in it only increases trans violence

these talking points are old and it sucks to see more and more trans women get indoctrinated into literal rad feminism. hating trans men will not make dysphoria around being seen as a man go away. hating trans men does not dismantle the patriarchy. hating afab people isn't progressive, it's misogynistic. hating intersex trans men isn't progressive, it's transphobic -and- intersexist. trans men deserve so much better than this. trans men are trans. trans men are people. trans men are not evil by virtue of existing

i say try to do your best to connect with and appreciate the other trans men and mascs in your life. we have to stick together. if you have transfem friends who are on your side, make sure to be there for them, too. not every trans woman is like this fortunately, most trans women are very chill about trans manhood. this is a vocal minority of people who want to be fascists and want to control and police other trans people. transradfeminism isn't progressive, it's just as bad as regular rad feminism, if not worse, because now there's an even bigger focus on hating trans people.

hating other trans people will never get you ahead in cisheteronormative society. try to take care of yourself as best as you can. really relish trans joy when you experience it. take time to affirm your gender. know that manhood is a blessing. manhood is beautiful. it is varied, nuanced, and complex. it is a wonderful thing to experience. men are not evil. men are not bad. we should never remove the accountability from individuals.

hating trans men makes you transphobic. there's just no other way to it. whether or not you accept that it's called transandrophobia, it is still transphobia, and you really should care. the trans community isn't here for just 1 type of trans person. it's here for all of us. good luck, stay safe out there. be good to yourself

[the-oblivious-writer]

With Her I Die |17|

Past J.T to Eventual S.S x Female Reader

Chapter Seventeen: Delayed Motion Sickness

warnings: graphic depictions of cannibalism and discussion of consuming human flesh, severe psychological trauma and mental health issues , graphic descriptions of vomiting/illness, discussions of grief and death, brief mention of potential suicidal ideation, emotional distress, and existential horror.

note(s): tai: "so where the hell are we gonna get food?" lottie: "we're gonna dig up y/n's dead girlfriend!" y/n: "yeah, dumbass, we're gonna dig up- dig up y/n's dead girlfriend?!?!??"

taglist: @morganismspam23 @slutforabbyanderson @serendippindots

masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter

The world returns in fragments—voices filtering through darkness, the sting of cold against your face, hands gripping your shoulders. You register movement, being half-carried back toward the cabin, someone murmuring reassurances that don't penetrate the fog of horror enveloping your mind.

"Get her inside," Tai's voice cuts through the haze, authoritative even in crisis.

Your stomach lurches again as they maneuver you through the doorway. You twist violently in their grasp, desperate to avoid fouling the cabin floor.

"She's gonna be sick again," Mari warns, just as you double over.

Someone thrusts a bucket beneath your chin just in time, and you empty whatever's left in your stomach—bile mostly, burning your throat and bringing tears to your eyes. A hand holds your hair back; another rubs circles between your shoulder blades.

"It's okay," Travis murmurs from somewhere above you. "Get it all out."

When the heaving finally subsides, you're guided to your sleeping area, hands gently pressing you down onto your makeshift bed. A cup appears at your lips—water, blessed water to wash away the acrid taste. You sip gratefully, hands trembling too badly to hold the cup yourself.

Through tear-blurred vision, you make out faces hovering around you—concerned, wary, exchanging glances loaded with meaning you can't decipher. The cabin has gone unnaturally quiet, everyone waiting for whatever comes next.

"What happened?" Tai finally asks, her voice uncharacteristically gentle.

You open your mouth, but the words lodge in your throat. How do you articulate the horror unfolding in your mind? The memories bursting through barriers you didn't know you'd constructed?

"Jackie," you manage, the name barely a whisper.

Something passes between them—a look, a silent conversation flowing above your head. Confusion crawls through your fog of panic.

"She remembered," Lottie says from somewhere to your left, her voice strangely calm. "What we did."

You turn toward her voice, finding her perched on the edge of a nearby trunk, her expression serene despite the tension crackling through the room.

"What are you talking about?" you rasp, though part of you already knows—the part that's been drowning in repressed memories since you stepped outside.

No one speaks. The silence stretches, taut with unspoken truths.

"Someone fucking tell me," you demand, voice gaining strength born of desperation. "Tell me I didn't... that we didn't..."

"You really didn't know?" Natalie asks, incredulous. "This whole time?"

"Know what?" The words tear from your throat, edged with hysteria.

Another exchange of glances, another silent communication from which you're excluded. Then Van steps forward, crouching beside your bed.

"After Jackie died," she begins carefully, "things got pretty bad. Food was scarce, and we were all starving, and—"

"No." You shake your head violently, as if the physical motion can dispel the horror taking shape. "No, we buried her. We waited for the ground to thaw and we buried her."

Van's eyes are soft with pity. "We didn't bury her, Y/N."

Your name in her mouth somehow makes it worse—makes it real in a way nothing else has. You pull away, pressing yourself against the wall.

"You're lying," you insist, gaze darting from face to face, searching for someone to contradict her. "We wouldn't... I wouldn't..."

"It was your idea," Lottie says, the simple statement falling like a stone into still water.

Your breath catches. "What?"

"Not exactly," Tai interjects quickly, shooting Lottie a warning look. "It wasn't like that."

"Then what was it like?" The question emerges as a plea, begging for an explanation that could somehow make sense of the fragments surfacing in your mind.

Tai sighs, settling on the floor beside your bed. "We were starving. Really starving. The hunting had failed for days, and the last of our rations were gone. Jackie was... she was already gone. Her body was just—"

"Meat," you finish, the word tasting like poison.

Tai nods once, her expression grim. "It was about survival. We all agreed."

"Including me." It's not a question anymore.

"You were... different after Jackie died," Travis offers hesitantly. "Not really yourself."

"Different how?" Despite the dread pooling in your stomach, you need to know.

Travis looks to Tai, clearly uncomfortable with being the messenger. Tai meets your gaze steadily.

"You were obsessed with her body," she says bluntly. "You wouldn't let us move her at first. You'd sit with her for hours, talking to her like she was still there. You'd arrange her hair, fix her clothes."

The memory surfaces unbidden—Jackie's frost-stiffened fingers in yours, combing through her tangled hair with a makeshift brush, carefully braiding the strands while chattering about nothing, everything, as if she could still hear you.

"You'd dress her up," Mari adds softly. "Change her outfits. Put that lipstick we found in her bag on her."

Your stomach lurches again, but there's nothing left to expel. "Oh god."

"When we finally decided to... use her body," Tai continues carefully, "you were the one who volunteered to... prepare her."

The knife in your hand. Blood on snow. The weight of flesh being carved from bone. Your breath comes in short, painful gasps as the memories assault you.

"Stop," you plead, pressing your palms against your eyes as if you could physically block the images. "Please stop."

A hand touches your shoulder—Lottie, moved from her perch to kneel beside you. "The wilderness provides," she says softly. "Jackie provided. There's no shame in that."

You recoil from her touch, something primal and panicked clawing at your insides. "Don't. Don't fucking touch me."

Lottie withdraws her hand but remains close, her eyes locked on yours with that same unnerving intensity from the forest. "You didn't do anything wrong."

A bitter laugh escapes you. "I ate the woman I loved, but sure, no big deal, right?" The words hang in the silence, your declaration of love for Jackie spoken aloud for the first time. "Where's Shauna?"

The question seems to catch them off guard, heads turning to scan the cabin. Shauna is nowhere to be seen.

"She was just here," Van says, frowning. "She helped bring you in."

The realization dawns slowly, a new horror layering over the first. "She knew," you whisper. "She knew I didn't remember."

No one contradicts you. The silence is confirmation enough.

"Why didn't any of you tell me?" Your voice cracks on the question. "Why let me go on thinking—believing—"

"We thought you knew," Natalie interrupts, looking genuinely confused. "You were there. You participated. You ate the same meals as the rest of us."

"I don't remember!" The shout tears from your throat. "I don't remember any of it! The meals, the... preparation. None of it!"

"That's not possible," Tai says skeptically. "You were functional. You talked, you worked, you—"

"I don't remember the first few weeks after she died," you insist, desperation lending strength to your voice. "It's all... fragmented. Blurry. I thought it was grief, or shock, or..." You trail off, the implication of your words sinking in.

"Dissociation," Lottie supplies calmly. "Your mind protected you from what you couldn't handle."

"Until now," you finish bitterly. "Until I fucked you in the same shed where we..." You can't complete the sentence, nausea rising again at the connection your mind has made.

Lottie doesn't flinch at your crudeness. "The body remembers what the mind tries to forget."

"Jesus, Lottie, give it a rest with the fortune cookie wisdom," Natalie snaps, then turns to you. "Look, this is fucked up. The whole situation is fucked up. But none of us knew you'd blocked it out."

You shake your head, trying to reconcile their version of events with the gaping holes in your memory. "I thought we buried her," you repeat, softer now. "I had this... this mental image of us digging a grave when the ground thawed. Saying goodbye."

"We did have a ceremony," Van offers gently. "After. We said words for her, thanked her for... for helping us survive. It was Lottie's idea."

"A ritual," Lottie corrects. "To honor her sacrifice."

The door opens before you can respond, a gust of cold air preceding Shauna as she slips inside. Her eyes find you immediately, widening slightly at your conscious state. She looks different somehow—younger, vulnerable in a way you rarely see.

"Hey," she says awkwardly, hovering by the door. "You're awake."

"Where were you?" The question comes out sharper than intended.

Shauna shifts uncomfortably. "Just needed some air."

"Right," you reply, a bitter edge creeping into your voice. "Me too."

A tense silence falls. Tai stands, motioning to the others. "Let's give them a minute," she suggests, though it's clearly an order rather than a request.

One by one, they filter away to various corners of the cabin, providing the illusion of privacy in a space too small for secrets. Only Lottie lingers, her gaze flicking between you and Shauna with undisguised interest.

"Lottie," Tai says pointedly. "Come on."

With visible reluctance, Lottie rises, her fingertips brushing your arm as she leaves—a touch so brief you might have imagined it. Shauna watches the interaction, her expression tightening before she approaches, taking the spot Lottie vacated.

"You knew," you say without preamble, keeping your voice low enough that it won't carry to the others. "You knew I didn't remember."

Shauna doesn't deny it. "I suspected," she admits. "The way you talked about Jackie, about... after. It didn't line up."

"And you didn't think to mention it?" The hurt in your voice is unmistakable. "To say, 'Hey, by the way, we ate your dead girlfriend'?"

"Your relationship wasn't exactly public," Shauna replies automatically, then winces at her own tone. "Sorry. That wasn't... I didn't mean—"

"Whatever." You turn away, facing the wall. "Just go away."

"Y/N, please." Her hand lands on your shoulder, gentle but insistent. "I thought I was protecting you."

"Protecting me?" You twist back to face her, incredulous. "By letting me live in a fantasy world where my biggest crime was leaving her body in the snow?"

"You were broken after she died," Shauna says quietly. "You'd sit with her body for hours, talking to her, brushing her hair like she was a doll. You weren't eating, weren't sleeping. We were afraid you'd—" She stops, swallowing hard.

"Kill myself?" you finish for her.

Her eyes answer you, never leaving yours. "Then the food ran out. Everyone was getting desperate. Lottie suggested that Jackie... that her body could..."

"And I volunteered," you supply, the memory surfacing like something dead rising to the water's surface. "To cut her up."

Shauna flinches at your bluntness but doesn't contradict you. "You said it should be someone who loved her. That she'd want to help us survive."

A hysterical laugh bubbles up your throat. "That's rich. I'm sure she'd be thrilled to know we treated her like a fucking Sunday roast."

"It wasn't like that," Shauna insists, her voice dropping even lower. "It was... respectful. As much as it could be."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" The tears you've been fighting finally spill over, hot trails down cold cheeks. "That we said grace before tearing into her like a bunch of paganists?"

Shauna's hand finds yours, gripping it tightly despite your half-hearted attempt to pull away. "We thought you'd processed it."

"I forgot it," you correct bitterly. "Locked it away in some dark corner of my mind where I wouldn't have to look at it."

Shauna's thumb traces circles on your palm, the gesture achingly familiar. "Why tonight?"

You close your eyes, seeing again the congealed stew, feeling the texture on your tongue. "The food. Something about tonight's dinner just... connected."

Shauna is quiet for a long moment, her hand still holding yours. "The way you talked about Jackie... it was like you had this whole narrative in your head about what happened after she died. A story where we honored her properly, buried her, moved on naturally."

"And you just let me believe it." The hurt resurfaces, sharper now.

"At first, I wasn't sure," Shauna admits. "I thought maybe you were just... I don't know, coping differently. But then that fight we had yesterday, when you asked about the baby..." She trails off, shaking her head. "I realized you really didn't remember. But by then, you were already so angry with me, and then with Lottie, you were—"

You pull your hand from hers, a new memory surfacing. "The baby."

Shauna's expression shutters. 

"You still never told me what happened..." Your words hang between you, loaded with implications neither of you is ready to face.

"Please don't," Shauna whispers, echoing your own plea from earlier. "Please don't ask me that. I can't go through this conversation again. Not tonight. Not when you're already dealing with..." She gestures vaguely, encompassing the situation, your breakdown, everything.

The refusal should anger you—another secret, another piece of truth withheld. Instead, an odd calm settles over you, a numbness that's almost comforting in its completeness.

"Okay," you agree, surprising yourself as much as her. "Not tonight."

Relief flashes across her face, quickly followed by wariness, as if she doesn't quite trust your acquiescence. "Are you... how are you feeling?"

"How am I feeling?" You repeat the question with a hollow laugh. "I just found out I ate someone I loved. Processing that might take a minute."

Shauna winces but doesn't back down. "Do you need anything? Water? More blankets?"

The normalcy of the offer—its domestic banality in the face of your horrific revelation—strikes you as absurdly funny. A giggle escapes you, then another, building quickly into semi-hysterical laughter that you can't seem to control.

Shauna watches with growing alarm. "Y/N? Hey, it's okay. Just breathe."

"It's really not okay," you gasp between fits of laughter that are rapidly transforming into sobs. "It's so far from okay that okay isn't even visible from here."

Arms wrap around you suddenly—Shauna pulling you against her chest, holding you through the storm of emotions. You should push her away, maintain the anger that's been your shield since returning to the cabin. Instead, you collapse into her embrace, sobs wracking your body as the full weight of reality crashes down.

"I ate her," you choke out against Shauna's shoulder. "I ate Jackie."

"We all did," Shauna murmurs, her hands making soothing motions across your back. "We survived because of her."

The distinction feels meaningless in the face of your guilt, but you cling to Shauna anyway, desperate for any anchor in the storm of your fractured memories.

"I loved her," you whisper, the admission worn smooth with repetition in your mind but rarely spoken aloud.

"I know," Shauna says softly. "She knew too."

Something in her tone makes you pull back slightly, studying her face. "And I love you."

Her eyes meet yours, something vulnerable and raw in their depths. "You should get some rest."

The dismissal hangs between you, neither reciprocation nor rejection but something in between. 

"You're right..." you say, exhaustion suddenly washing over you. 

Shauna's hand finds yours again, squeezing gently. "Don't disappear again. Please."

The plea in her voice tugs at something in your chest. "I won't."

"Promise?"

"Promise." The word feels binding in a way few things have since the crash upended your world.

Shauna nods, seeming satisfied. She starts to rise, but your hand tightens on hers, keeping her in place.

"Stay?" The request slips out before you can reconsider it. "Just... I don't want to be alone with my thoughts right now."

She hesitates only briefly before settling back beside you. "I'll stay."

Across the cabin, you catch Lottie watching, her expression unreadable in the firelit shadows. She inclines her head slightly when your eyes meet—acknowledgment without challenge. Whatever existed between you in the forest, in the meat shed, feels distant now, overshadowed by the horrors unearthed from your own mind.

You lean against Shauna, allowing your eyes to close, hoping for the oblivion of sleep without dreams. The memories will still be there tomorrow, waiting to be examined, processed, somehow integrated into your understanding of yourself. For now, though, there's just the warmth of human contact, the steady rhythm of Shauna's breathing, and the fragile promise of not facing the darkness alone.

"You'll be okay," Shauna whispers, her lips brushing your hair. "We both will."

You don't answer, don't point out the hollowness of such assurances in the face of your collective trauma. Instead, you let yourself believe it, just for tonight—a comforting fiction to cling to while the truth settles its weight upon your shoulders.

Outside, the wind howls through bare trees, a sound too similar to human keening. Inside, wrapped in Shauna's arms, you finally surrender to exhaustion, sliding into darkness with Jackie's name on your lips and the taste of memory like ashes on your tongue and you can't help but feel a wave of deja vu wash over you. 

[sloanesallow]

Sebastian Sallow Headcanons

So I've seen some of my moots do one of these and decided it was my turn, even if nobody asked. 🤣

These are all ideas that are present in stories I’ve already published, or ones that are forthcoming in Void. A lot of this is word-vomit LOL. I’ve credited anyone that I’ve been inspired by, but otherwise, similar head-canons to other creators are coincidental.

Disclaimer: My opinions are mine. They might also be yours! They might also be somebody else’s. Or not. That’s the fun thing about fandom. We can all have our own thoughts! Disagree? Cool! Just don’t be mean about it. :)

Sebastian is left-handed.

Actually, ambidextrous. So while it’s probably an error in-game, if you take Sebastian with you to Hogsmeade, in the Three-Broomsticks he stands up to defend you with his wand in his left hand. I’ve just decided to run with it and think his left is more dominant than his right, but he can use both.

Sebastian is on the spectrum.

Because I am on the spectrum, it’s hard not to write this nerdy little boy as somebody who obsesses over data and information. Sebastian is a numbers guy. Counts stuff in his head; keeps lists. Obsessive about his note-taking and will throw away a page if he thinks his penmanship isn’t perfect enough. I put in a previous post that he’d be the type to stare at a jar of jelly beans and know how many are inside with one glance.

Sebastian is very intelligent but oh so stupid (affectionately)

For some reason, the only comparison I can think of right now is a weird combination of Abed and Troy from Community. You know the friend that seems to always be in weird, preventable situations and says the most out-of-pocket things but will turn around and quote Shakespeare. He probably is the smartest person in the room but isn’t humble about it. Sebastian is book-smart and thinks he’s street-smart (insert John Mullaney here) but his life experience is actually quite limited. Yes, his parents died (and he may have witnessed it to some degree), but I do think he might have been sheltered in some capacity. Which brings me to my next point:

Sebastian’s feelings are intense, and sometimes misguided

Sebastian would benefit from therapy, no joke. He likely wasn’t given the space to process his parent’s death, so it’s no wonder he SPIRALS when Anne gets sick. His desperation comes from a place of fear, but his inability to cope leads to some very unfortunate circumstances. And yes, Sebastian can be deceptive and manipulative, but I don’t think he acts this way on purpose, but because he doesn’t know any better. He acts first, thinks later, and this can lead to tension in his friendships (MC/Ominis). It’s also why so many authors write him as somewhat possessive when pairing him romantically with MC (or anyone, really). I tend to write him as being disinterested in romance (too busy) until it smacks him in the face and he chases that high obsessively. However, I think it takes a long time for Sebastian to recognize what real, healthy love is.

Sebastian would never be an Auror

I’ll die on this hill. Sebastian would probably not ever want to work for the Ministry, and distrusts authority, even as he ages and matures. Regardless if you think he acted in self-defense or not, he still killed his uncle with an unforgivable. That’s scary. And dangerous. A kid knowing and practicing Dark Magic? Even if he never does it again, he wouldn’t risk his life by flaunting himself in front of the Ministry. Also, Solomon was an Auror. Now, I’ll admit I have him working with the Ministry in some capacity in my fics (curse breaker), but for the most part, he is a free agent and does what he wants (in true Sebastian fashion).

Pocket cookies

Always has some kind of snack in his pockets for emergencies. I’ve had this come up several times now in my fics (see below) and it’s a running joke. I just love the idea of him pulling out a cookie to offer somebody in their time of need.

Other little things:

Triple Scorpio??? I did this on accident when making a birthday (November 8 1873) for him and CoStar said based on my made-up birth chart he was Scorpio Sun/Moon/Ascending which according to my astrology babes, is uhhhhh insane.  

Allergic to lavender???? Don’t ask.

He's just a silly, goofy guy, okay?

[thediaryofaurora]

General HCs

=Tim Wright/Masky=

- Twenty seven, only a little older than Brian.

- 6’0, buff dad bod.

- White with a small percentage of Native American.

- His childhood was ROUGH. His mom just dumped him off at a psyche ward whenever he started having hallucinations and rarely ever went to visit. He grew up completely isolated other than the other patients, never had any parental care or real friends. At around fifteen he burnt down the hospital and lived on the streets for a few years.

- After he was able to get into college he met Brian, and they immediately got along. Tim can’t communicate his feelings or even know what he’s feeling, but Brian can easily read people, is easy to talk to, and open minded, which is exactly what Tim needed. In all honesty, Brian’s the closest thing he’s ever had to a family.

- He is so desperate to feel any sliver of normality. Living at a strange, paranormal mansion, not remembering anything he does on missions, and not being able to have any normal social life makes him physically ill. Occasionally the proxies get a month or two off and that really the closest he ever gets to feeling normal, or even happy. Being able to watch TV in a normal house, go grocery shopping, get a part time job, do anything without worry or guilt, it’s the only good part about his life.

- Genuinely has a smoking issue, if you couldn’t tell. Goes through like two packs a DAY and has to buy them in bulk like a middle aged woman getting almonds at Costco.

- Has a little apartment a few miles away from the mansion with Brian. They were originally going to get separate ones close by, but Brian was too worried Tim would sieze out or have an episode to leave him alone.

- He gets sick SO easily. Not just from The Operator, he catches a cold at least every other month.

- Has an old, rusty pick up truck him and Brian drive around.

- Gets along surprisingly well with Natalie, sometimes they smoke together. It’s hard for him to understand her accent, but he doesn’t mind her company nonetheless. He finds her super interesting, and extremely intimidating — but he’d never mention that.

- Doesn’t necessarily mind Toby, but he does think he’s kind of an asshole. They get along on occasion, however he can be a jerk. To Tim he’s a snarky, reckless teenager, and to Toby Tim’s a nagging older brother who won’t ease up. When they have to work together Brian is usually alongside them, and his demeanor somewhat evens them out.

- Shockingly enough, he’s a morning person. Especially in the spring. Right before the sunrise when theres a light blue haze, dew on the leaves and buildings, and a cool breeze, it’s one of the rare times he feels peaceful.

- Almost exclusively eats microwaved meals. He can’t cook for shit and he doesn’t care enough to try.

- When him, Brian, and Toby are stationed away from the mansion they stop at hole in the wall diners. He always gets a black coffee and scrambled eggs, he likes to see if the places make them any different than the others.

- He listens to country music.

- Can’t really figure out any new technology. He’s not old or anything, he just has no means to. Still has an iPod and listens to CDs.

- More onto Masky now!!

- Unlike Hoodie, this guy does have malicious intent. Can and will attack anyone who possesses him off or gets in his way.

- EXTREMELY short temper. Won’t put up with Toby whatsoever and has beaten the shit out of him, no remorse.

- He is aware of what happens in Tim’s life, rather than how Tim doesn’t know what happens when Masky fronts. If something or someone slightly upset Tim, Masky is FUMING. Any slight emotion Tim feels, he feels ten times stronger — and more aggressively.

- Hoodie gets on his nerves, but they work well together. Masky is ruthless and doesn’t care what happens to who, while Hoodie is only aggressive by order.

- Masky prefers Kate over any proxy, even though him and Hoodie work together the most. She knows hot to shut up and get shit done, and he almost admires her for it. She’s fast, efficient, and not empathetic when it comes to victims. The only reason they’re not always paired together is because their killing styles don’t line up. She’s a hunter, while Masky is a brute that focuses on how he kills.

- He can front for extremely long, sometimes up to a few months, and when he fronts he does not sleep at all, which bites Tim in the ass.

- Extremely high pain tolerance. He can get stabbed and still be focused on getting the job done, he’ll deal with the pain after the fact.

================

[rowdyluv]

blurb Extension to: Finding out They’re Having A Baby

word count: 1.3k

As if telepathy was real Ellen knocked on the door and entered after announcing herself. “Now that emotions are out. Let’s go both of you, out here. We’re getting this settled, and Luke.” Ellen’s tone of voice started of soft and turned to one only mother ready to discipline has. “Your father and I raised you better than this. I thought you knew better than to raise your voice at your significant other. Even when angry you can keep a level tone of voice.” Luke’s face falls as he glances over at the love of his life. He knew yelling at her was wrong. He knew everything he said to her was wrong.

“Mom, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have talked to her like that.” Luke’s voice was sincere, but it was clear his heart was racing. Ellen was right, when was she wrong? Ellen and Jim did raise Luke better than he was acting at the moment and he was the one feeling sick now for it.

Rosey’s mother had stayed seated on the sofa waiting Ellen to bring them out, a concerned expression etched on her face. She had never seen her daughter this distressed and it was a side of Luke she had never encountered either. They sat down at the small table in Rosey’s dorm room’s common area, the silence echoing around them like a question left unanswered.

Ellen’s eyes bore into Luke’s, her words a gentle yet firm reprimand. “You need to learn to communicate without letting your anger control you. You’re not just hurting Rosey, you’re also damaging the trust between you two. She’s your partner, not someone to be talked down to or dismissed like that. You have to apologize to her, not just to me. Your actions in there were unacceptable and unnecessary. You two acted as adults, you bear the responsibility of adults.” She wasn’t condescending or rude to her youngest son when reprimanding him, but she made sure he knew that she was serious.

Luke nodded solemnly, understanding the gravity of his actions. His eyes reflected the storm of emotions brewing inside him: regret, anger at himself, and a desperate longing to take back his harsh words. He turned to Rosey, who sat with her arms folded tightly across her chest, her eyes downcast. The room felt as if it had shrunk, the weight of the silence pressing down on them like a heavy blanket.

"Rosey," he began, his voice quivering with sincerity. "I'm so sorry for what I said. I had no right to accuse you of joking about something so serious." He reached out a hand to her, but she didn't move to take it. The air was thick with unspoken words and the scent of her perfume, which usually brought him comfort, now seemed to taunt him with its sweetness. He got up off the couch moving to kneel in front of her, “I’m sorry I called you by your legal name..Rosey, honey please.”

Her eyes remained downcast, but he could see the slight tremble in her chin as she tried to hold back tears. He knew he had hurt her deeply, and the sight was like a knife twisting in his gut. The room was a canvas of shadows and soft light, painting a stark contrast to the turmoil inside him.

"Rosey, please," Luke's voice was a whisper, as if the weight of his apology could somehow break the delicate silence. "Look at me." He took a deep breath, bracing himself for her reaction. When she finally met his gaze, her eyes were brimming with unshed tears, and it was all Luke could do to keep his own emotions in check.

Ellen and Rosey's mother exchanged glances, both of them feeling the tension in the room. They had raised their children to communicate with respect and love, and this was a moment of truth for all of them. Luke's mother gave him a subtle nod, urging him to continue, to express the depth of his regret.

"I know you didn't mean to hurt me, Luke," Rosey's voice was barely audible, "but when you shouted like that, it felt like you didn't trust me." She paused, her eyes searching his face for any signs of understanding. "And calling me ‘y/n'... it's like you didn't even see me as the person I have always been to you."

Her words hung in the air, a gentle rebuke that resonated through Luke's entire being. He nodded, his throat feeling as if it had been sewn shut. He desperately wanted to explain, to make her see that his outburst was born from fear and shock, not from a lack of faith in her. But the knot in his throat only grew tighter, making it difficult to breathe, let alone speak. He swallowed hard, trying to dislodge the lump that had formed.

"I know," he croaked out, his voice hoarse with emotion. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you or make you feel like I didn't trust you." He took another deep breath, willing his voice to steady. "It just...it all came out wrong. I was scared, and I didn't know how to handle it." His eyes searched hers, seeking any glimmer of forgiveness or understanding.

Rosey reached out and brushed her hand through his curls, a gesture that was as tender as it was surprising. The touch was feather-light, but it sent a jolt of warmth through him, grounding him in a way that nothing else could. She didn't pull away from his gaze, and the warmth in her eyes grew, slowly thawing the ice that had constricted his throat. It was a silent apology of her own, an acknowledgment that she had contributed to the situation as well.

“Lukey, I’m scared too.. terrified really. But if I have you I think I’ll be just fine yeah?”

The moment the words left her lips, Luke felt the tightness in his chest ease just a bit. Her use of the nickname she had for him brought a ghost of a smile to his face, and he nodded, feeling some of the tension dissipate. He took her hand in his, the warmth of her skin calming the storm in his own.

He leaned in and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to the back of her hand, his eyes never leaving hers. "So, we're going to be parents, huh?" he whispered to himself, his voice a mix of wonder and fear. The reality of it all was sinking in, but the love he felt for her was unshakeable. He could feel the steady beat of her pulse under his lips, a rhythm that matched his own racing heart.

If Luke knew anything besides hockey, it was that his baby was going to have one hell of a mom. He had seen the way Rosey lit up around children, the gentle way she had with animals, and the fierce determination in her eyes when she set her mind to something. He knew she would be a natural, that she would love and protect their child with every fiber of her being. The thought filled him with a warmth that surpassed the guilt and anger that had consumed him moments ago.

“It may not be what we had planned, but there’s no one else in this world that I would ever, in any lifetime, want to be experiencing this with.” Luke assured Rosey.

Rosey giggled. “Silly boy, we don’t have a plan!”

“I know that I plan to marry you someday.” Luke’s tone was serious and she was shocked silent. “I don’t need to plan for anything else, you’re all I need.”

He gently pulled her into his arms, her eyes widened in surprise but she didn’t resist. He kissed her softly, feeling the tremble of her lips against his own, the sweetness of her breath mingling with his. It was a kiss filled with promise and love, a silent apology for his earlier behavior. He knew that words alone couldn’t erase the hurt, but he hoped that his actions would speak louder than any words could. “I love you, Ro, so so much.”

[bettysupremacy]

Steve-o

Summary: Steve thinks you’re very pretty, and desperately needs your number.

A/N: i love Steve. a lot.

The world stops for approximately 5 second when Steve Harrington first sees you. It’s heavy crashing infatuation that has Steve questioning, is love at first sight real?

He’s never been a believer in this sort of thing, you get to know them, you fall for them. At least, that’s how it was with Nancy. You can’t fall In love with a person you’ve never met, you don’t even know them. 

But that’s what Steve found so beautiful, the unknown. 

“Dude, why aren’t you walking?” Robin turns from where she stands, realizing Steve is no longer beside her.

“It’s her, Robs.” He breathes.

“It’s who?” 

“My soulmate, my pairing, my one true love.” He contradicts everything he believes in.

“Oh my god,” Robin groans annoyedly. “You cannot be serious right now, Steve.” 

He nods. “As a heart attack.” 

Papers scatter the Scoops Ahoy wheel table you sit at. They’re filled with words and colorful highlighter. Smart, he thinks, I know she’s smart.

“Get your ass over here and keep walking, we’re gonna be late.” He won’t budge. “God, please, Steve.”

“I need her number.” He shakes his head.

“You need one less late clock in.” 

Steve whines, breaking his eye sight on you for the first time. “Let me have this, Robs.” 

“I’ve let you have 3 late days, one more and Kieth said he’d fire your ass.” 

“Kieth says a lot of things.” He turns his head to her. “How do I ask? Name first? Number? Age?” 

“Well typically you introduce yours-“ 

“Fuck off, Robin, I know what I’m doing.” 

He takes a moment. Maybe he should’ve let Robin finish her advice, he’s never been this nervous to ask out a girl. 

“This level of melodramatic is a new low, Steve.” 

“Fuck off.” This pushes him to walk into Scoops. 

When he reaches the table, it’s an obvious realization that you’re studying. The papers are neat despite thrown around, and there’s a highlighter key next to your elbow. He feels guilty interrupting. 

Be normal! Repeats in his head like a mantra. God!

“Hi,” he starts, he feels like he could throw up. “I’m Steve.” 

You startle. “Hi, Steve.” 

He laughs nervously. Robin rolls her eyes so hard her head tilts back and her hands come up to cover her face exasperatedly. You smile. Steve doesn’t. 

He takes a look around the room awkwardly.  How could he ever stand these blue and red lights? “I used to work here yanno.” 

You nod. “You work in the video store now.”

“That I do.” He bounces in his new shoes, “Wait, have you been in?” 

“Yeah, I come every Saturday.” 

“No shit.” He breathes. You look taken aback, a little confused, a little offended.

“I mean! No shit, I would’ve remembered a face so pretty.”

“Good one, dingus.” 

“Take a walk.” He replies quickly. 

“Do you.. need something?” You ask carefully. His face crumples and something sick in your heart twists. “Not to be rude! I just- English 101 doesn’t finish itself.” 

“English 101! You go to Hawkins Community? I was gonna go, I just wanted a taste of hardworking minimum wage life first” his eyes widen, “not that what you’re doing isn’t hard work!” 

Can the world just cave in on him now? Shoot me.

“She asked a question, Steve-o” Robin puts in. Unhelpfully.

He glares at Robin. “I was wondering if I could get your number? It’s okay if not!” He adds quickly. “Just like- maybe we could go out sometime?” 

Your head spins, pretty boy comes and asks for your number? You can’t mess this up. 

“You like movies?” 

“Uhh duh,” Steve laughs. Robin doesn’t know how much more she can take of this. “Totally.” 

“You pick a movie,” You smile, “and come over Saturday. I’ve got a really big tv.” 

Now Steve may be nervous, but he wasn’t born yesterday. 

“Yeah!” He seems overeager. “Yeah,” he fixes. “I’ll pick out a movie.” 

“Okay.” You smile up at him.

He juts out his wrist. “You can write it.. here.” 

Your laugh cuts through his nerves like a sharp knife. “Yeah, okay.”

Pretty pink highlighter seeps into Steve’s unblemished wrist. He watches you write your number moonstricken. Your fingers press into his skin warmly and something turns in his tummy, you’re so pretty. 

“Well I’ll be seeing you..” He looks at his wrist, “Y/N.” 

“I’ll be seeing you, Steve-o” She takes from Robin. 

He laughs, turning to walk with Robin again. “Steve-o” he mouths. 

Robin is sure to have an aneurism. They were supposed to clock in 3 minutes ago. 

“You happy with yourself?” 

Steve grins, big and boyish. “Yeah, I am.” 

[threepandas]

Bad End: Happy Hunting! (1)

I should have known better. They told us. TRAINED US. Over and over, drilled into our heads! Don't assume! Don't PROJECT Human body language onto alien species! Think that just because they look similar, are ACTING similar, their brains are in any way WORKING similar!

Not every species pack bonds! Some of them are PREDATORS. Be CAREFUL!

I was an idiot. A fucking IDIOT!

I gasped for air. Ran. Ran and ran and RAN. Desperately trying to put distance between me and the hunters behind me. I could hear screams. Crashing. The sound of weapon fire. The air here wasn't RIGHT. Too high in oxygen? Too low? Some other trace element, slowly poisoning my lungs?

I didn't know. Scared! Oh god, I'm so scared!

I thought he was my friend!

Thought THEY were my friends! Stupid. So God damned stupid! You really will pack bond with ANYTHING, won't you?! They bare their teeth and you fucking thought it was a SMILE! No wonder I barely graduated. They never should have-!

A root catches my foot.

Crashing to the mulch of the forest floor. Scramble to get up. My ankle on fire. Hurts. Oh god it hurts! Ignore it. Go! Keep going! Gotta get OUT! Find a ship. Any ship! Radio for help!

All the trees look the same. Am I even going in a straight line? Deeper or across? Away from civilization? I don't know how to survive here! Can I even drink the water? No. Run! Just RUN! Nothing else!

I can't hear them.

Him.

I thought he was my friend.

My grades were shit. Worst of the Best, but ultimately good enough. Got to see the stars. The galaxy. Meet real life aliens. Was a glorified gofer for the Earthling Diplomat's Entourage. Galactic Council offered staff. Wasn't really an offer. We took um. Some of them were the "better" guards then the super military badasses we had brought.

Military badasses were pretty offended.

But I was a gofer. Not my circus, not my monkeys. Just here for the aliens, right? Yay getting to meet some, right? I couldn't even PRONOUNCE their species name. I was mortified. Tried my damnedest. They thought it was hilarious. My pronunciation was god awful. Was calling them the cutesy babified version of "office chair".

Met Wolfe. He seemed FRIENDLY. Kind. Considerate. He told jokes. Asked about my day. I started sharing. Hobbies and interests. Stories about home. Explained weird human behaviors. We were close. I... I thought we were close! Was it a lie? Was everything A LIE!?

When my rotation in space was coming to an end, I was SAD! Fucking HEARTBROKEN! That I might never see my friends again. Since communication between our two planets wasn't even stabilized yet. Might never be. I wanted to savor our time together. Treasure it!

But then things started to go wrong.

Random malfunctions, that delayed and delayed us. Lost communications that nearly caused interplanetary incidents. Took days and weeks to fix at a time. People went MISSING. We looked. Every time we LOOKED!

They're dead, aren't they? Oh god. Dozens of crew members DEAD.

Then the engine "broke". Conveniently just close enough for us to make an emergency landing on this planet! And oh, would you look at THAT! A sacred cultural festival!? They won't help us unless we join in.

It's a MARRIAGE HUNT.

Heavy emphasis on the HUNT part!

They weren't surprised. Not a single one. Every last one just turned too different people and... and...! Wolfe planned this. THEY planned this! We're gonna die. I trusted him and now I'm gonna DIE! Can't breathe! Branches whipping at my arms and hair and face, as I RUN. Down slopes. Across shallow rivers. Even as my limbs BURN. I... I HAVE TOO-!

A powerful wall of muscle slams into me.

I scream. Thrash, even as I fall. My arms are easily tucked and pinned against my side, as the body covering mine rolls with me down a slight incline. The smell of wet plant matter and upturned soil thick in the strange air. Dizzy. I feel sick. Oh god please no!

Heat and pressure pin me down. Arms like thick steel bands. Still, I struggle, like a cornered animal. I have too. They always tell you to FIGHT. Only chance and survival. The deep rumble of crooned reassurances in an alien dialect fill my ear. I can feel how DEEPLY he breathes me in, before each sentence. Like hes been holding back and finally no longer has too, is giddy with it. How his hands already spread possessively, eager to explore.

And he's strong. Oh god, he's so strong! Please please please! Let go. LET GO!

"Shhhhhh shh shh, is 'okay' now. I have you. You ran so hard! Did so well! My precious little human~ so brave. So strong. You did it! Now, no one can EVER seperate us! You don't have to worry anymore. No more tears~" Hunter, Warrior, oh god it was never a GRIN-! His teeth are so sharp. Pressed so close to my skin!

"I'll take care of EVERYTHING~"

I'm scared.

[skellycrows]

dpxdc fantasy au (dead tired)

of course the moment i start posting on here and planning a fic i get sick LMAO. gave me time to start actually watching Danny Phantom though, so i know a bit more about what I'm talking about, which is nice. also finally managed to do a draft design for Tim in this AU, which will get posted sometime soon-ish.

After a bunch (ten minutes) of research I decidedly gave up and have decided to make up my own rules for how Amity Kingdom is going to work structure wise- mainly because getting Tim a way into the court is frustrating if i follow EXACTLY how real royal courts work.

SO!!! In Amity kingdom, the court is all decided by the ruling monarch. That means that even if someone was in the court as say, a duke, for the former ruler (cough cough dark pariah), when the new ruler took the throne their position would not be guaranteed. Danny filling up his court with a mix of fae (ghost equivalent) and humans to advise him- in Amity, the fae generally mingle with the humans. think, lunch lady working in a kitchen of some sort and it being accepted, if just barely. its a fragile balance, getting the two worlds to get along, but due to so much exposure, Amity's citizens aren't impacted by the primal fear and spooky shit as much. because this isn't exactly like pre-established fae creatures, I'm making it up with a mix of myths, and i want them to be off-putting. Also, the human citizens have their own magics and alchemy created specifically to combat and deal with the fae (equivalent of Fenton tech) when necessary, and so... yeah, Danny has Fright Knight teaching the soldiers. Yeah, Ember is a court musician. Yeah, they're both still Different from the human characters.

Amity's throne is also won through right of conquest, and the same is true in the infinite lands- meaning when Dark Pariah ruled over both, whoever beat him would rule over both. This also really fucked with fae-human relationships in Amity, so Danny has his work cut out for him resolving everything, ruling essentially a kingdom and a whole dimension, and having... no training in the slightest. not to mention, a large part of the court had to be stripped of their titles due to plotting against him or just generally not supporting his rule.

So you can imagine how desperate the poor boy is for aid. He has his friends and he has council in the infinite realms that upholds a good deal of the stuff there, but you know what he doesn't have?

Humans that know how to deal with mfing POLITICS. Sam is helpful for activism and agriculture, Tucker is helpful with alchemy, Jazz is helpful with... most things, really, but even she doesn't know how to run a country!!! She's best with organizing humanitarian efforts and healthcare and communication, not the logistics! The only person he knows that has a good grasp on all that stuff is Vlad, and asking Vlad for help is like asking to be manipulated into furthering the bastards agenda. And currently that man's agenda is to steal Danny's throne. The only reason he retained his title (duke? archduke maybe? undecided) when Danny took his throne is that keeping the man there quells a chunk of the people that disapprove of Danny's rule.

Also, again, like him or not, the guy knows what he's doing.

So yeah, when Danny's out on a visit to the city and discovers an outsider boy fighting a group of bandits, of course Danny helps him. (Tim would have been so very fine alone, but the help is appreciated). Protecting people, at least, is something he knows how to do. And then, well, the guy's an OUTSIDER, he doesn't know anything about how to survive in Amity, of course Danny's gonna show him around a bit and teach him some of the rules of survival! And maybe he doesnt mention his title at first, because its nice being treated a bit more normally. (Tim is watching this uncannily beautiful man warily the whole time- because something seems Off about him, about the way he holds himself, about the way the citizens treat him.)

And maybe he lets slip a few things about how the current king is struggling to settle in, and the new boy has an oddly expansive knowledge bank of taxes and trade and handling political factions and disputes and-

Well, Danny feels a bit like he can breathe for the first time in months. Its not perfect advise, of course- Gotham doesn't have the same types of problems as Amity but Ancients! The boy catches on to everything so quickly, and he seems so well equipped, and Danny needs to get him to come to the palace with him. He'd make an excellent advisor-

But maybe he'll just start with offering him a place to stay as a guest.

Tim is both pleased and paranoid when he immediately gets an in with the actual KING because its so convenient for his goals, but things never go this well. Something's Going to give, at some point, but for now he has no choice but to play along. Maybe it'll work out easily after all.

[urhoneycombwitch]

not necessarily fitting to the horny ass you're looking for but I've been pondering about roommates!

like what do they do when they fight/how do they fight? I know we got a little bit in the Christmas van fic, but I'm wondering how would they go about it when in the apartment? because at least with neighbor Eddie, they have their own space, even if it's strained to have to not use the hallway at the same time but at least it's still space? but if roommates fight, is Eddie the type to take off in the van for a little while? is it heated or more cold shoulder? or what's the olive branch that they typically offer each other when the emotions aren't as high anymore? dinner? a movie? a joint?

and my second, more silly, pondering is: the apartment is neutral territory, but is there any area within the apartment that has been designated a no zone? like is reader the type to be like "not on the counters, we eat there!" or is every square inch free for all?

excellent question. i think in this case it depends on the level of infraction, yanno?

I think there was a lot of tension at first learning how to live together. R has a lot of control issues around objects/likes the space of their apartment to feel a certain way (clean) but struggled with how to broach the topic with a guy she didn't know very well at the time.

once R+Eddie bonded and became friends it was easier to be real with him. no more secret grudges, because that shit just doesn't work when you share a space.

Eddie gets the idea of hosting a Town Hall every Sunday where you can air your grievances- like, actually write shit down that pisses you off during the week and read it off as a declaration to Eddie (sat in the Armchair of Importance and wearing his Town Hall hat. it's an old brown fedora-style from being Freddy Kreuger many Halloweens ago. Eddie does not fuck around with ceremony)

since Eddie is A. a good listener, B. can take instruction well, and C. wants to please you (desperately), these meetings do wonders for the tension around cleaning up and sharing spaces.

the need for meetings kind of falls off after awhile once you both get into a rhythm, but there's always that option to fall back on. while i think the van fic is indeed their first big, real fight, there's definitely been some fights before that big one.

when you get mad, it's generally over smaller things that build up over time (i.e. housework building up as aforementioned), and while the ol' Town Hall takes care of most of it, there's still shit that falls through the cracks or leaves you annoyed or mad enough to freeze Eddie out.

you're not super subtle about it, either, because you generally want him to know you're mad so he can fix it. however subconscious. truly believe how most reader-oriented fights have gone is Eddie comes home, hears you banging around in the sink, and immediately knows he's got something to fess up to or apologize for. just based on the noise. perceptive to you like that. (obviously this is not a great way to communicate BUT i'm thinking of the before-times where they were both so sick in love and denial it was hard to work around!!)

there've been instances of your anger towards other people Eddie's partnered with before, but since that's pre-van fic, you generally managed to ignore that jealous streak and turn it into productivity. like being a little too eager to meet Eddie's new hookup, or being overly excited for him, just to shake the seething jealousy off its course. (see: bathroom fic)

i think when Eddie gets mad, he's more prone to distance himself. like u said, anon, he definitely takes his van for a spin or says he's going for a walk (which means smoking out on the corner rain or sleet be damned) he doesn't want to take his anger out on you, even if you kinda deserve it in the moment. his early years included a dad who yelled and Eddie hates that shit.

so he'll blow off some steam and leave you to simmer too so that by the time he's back he'll have a better attitude, snacks from PJ's, and a joint to share. he'll apologize with words or olive branches or both, whatever he feels you need or the situation calls for. and since you're never to proud to apologize, too, it usually smooths over after a day.

okay now on to neutral zones. this is so funny to think about because you're right, I don't see our dear obsessive compulsive reader being chill with bare asses on the breakfast island.

i think there are a few hard nos- against the fridge is one. yes Eddie tried it as a joke once and no you didn't find it funny.

shower is fine since it usually involves getting clean at the same time, and you have fucked in the bathroom before but it does take active redirection of your brain to try and forget the grimy location the whole time.

i think out of desperation, you'll be hard pressed to find a surface of the apartment that hasn't been fucked on. the icky feeling usually comes after the flood of hormones seep out and Eddie still buried inside you, panting, kissing at your bare shoulder on the comedown, and he sees your expression and is like "oh my god. you're thinking about how bad you want to clean the counters right now, aren't you."

and you're like "no! of course not! I'm thinking about the crazy good sex we just had. I'm good and everything is normal." but you also can't stop staring at the indeterminate wet mark on the counter beside your thigh...

and Eddie who is sweet to his core just sighs and chuckles and says some version of "You grab the paper towels and I'll grab the diluted bleach bottle <3"

(more of the roommates cbf here!)

[deadbydangit]

Hi! Welcome back :) Can I please request how Nurse, Plague, and Mastermind would act when they're desperate for attention/affection? I saw this prompt for some of the other killers and thought it was a great idea.

I believe I can. Please enjoy.

When they want your attention

Nurse, Plague, Mastermind

Nurse

Sally isn't a needy person.

Sure, she'll want affection.

But she's not clingy.

She knows when to give space, and she knows when to get close.

She's also very good at communication.

You always know when something's wrong.

So it's very rare when she acts up for attention.

And it's not really acting up.

Usually, she'll just ask you.

But there are times when she's feeling particularly sensitive and doesn't want to say that out loud.

Times when she's remembering her husband, his death, or her time working at the asylum.

Those were all particularly traumatic times for her.

During those times she's more likely to seclude herself than to come find you.

Romantic or platonic, Sally has a very mother-like personality.

She wants to be the one taking care of you, not the other way around.

Rather, she doesn't want to burden you with her problems.

Therefore, so isolate herself.

And she'll get very quiet.

Oftentimes, you'll see her staring out at the sky blankly.

Maybe even crying.

But she tries to hide that.

Although it's not a way of begging for attention, it's her way of saying she needs somebody.

Needs you.

First, make sure she knows you're there.

She's not someone you want to startle.

After, just bring her in for a tight hug.

No words need to be said.

Just you, holding her.

That's all she needs.

Plague

Adria is the complete opposite of clingy.

She actually prefers her space.

That's not to say she dislikes receiving affection.

But she's definitely not as touchy feely as some may be.

While she likes to be around you, she doesn't like you to be close to her.

She really doesn't want to get you sick.

And, occasionally, she'll vomit without warning.

And you really, really, don't want to get hit with that vomit.

When she's having a better health day, she's more likely to indulge you with some hugs.

Maybe a kiss on the head.

It's her way of protecting you.

When she has bad health days it's pretty obvious.

She'll be bedridden or stuck over a trash can of some sorts.

It's not exactly asking for attention.

But, it's certainly a time where she'll need more attention.

She prides herself on being able to take care of you, to look after you, to make sure you're safe.

Not being able to do so?

It makes her feel inadequate and pathetic.

If you ask her if she needs help she'll adamantly say no.

But she's really hoping you will anyways.

She doesn't like to ask you for help.

Again, it just makes her feel like she's failing as a partner and a protector.

Make sure she has access to water at all times, and make sure there's a trash can by her.

She couldn't ask for anything else, even if it's the bare minimum.

If you really want to make her happy though, start reading a book and sit beside her.

If you pick something out that you know she enjoys, she'll practically feel better right away.

Adris is particularly interested in poetry about nature and the ocean.

It may not be the ideal way of asking for attention, but you're all she needs.

Mastermind

Wesker says he's not a needy person.

Keyword being says.

He may act all cool and aloof.

But underneath his cold exterior?

A real softy.

Don't tell him that though.

He's as needy as they come.

But he's so subtle about it that it makes you think you're the needy one.

And he does that entirely on purpose.

He's trying to maintain his whole tough guy demeanor.

One of the most annoying things he does is hide your things.

But he's so quick about it that you merely think you misplace them.

That's all part of his plan.

You'll go crazy looking for it before finally asking him for help.

Why does he do this?

Because he knows you'll give him attention if he finds the item for you.

And he always does. That's because he's hiding it behind his back.

Other times, he'll pretend to be heavily invested in work. So much so that he forgets you around.

Only for you to go up and give him a hug.

He'll pretend to be annoyed, but he secretly overjoyed.

If none of that works, he'll simply just pick you up and take you away.

Where?

Anywhere he can safely be alone with you.

[coffeegnomee]

ugh sometimes watching Kab pov I get real sympathetic for how difficult it must be to be in her brain and just be so confused all the time and exhausted about masking her feelings to make other people trust her and her pain in wanting to be vulnerable and receive vulnerability and feel deep reciprocal love.

But then she says shit, really fucking mean and toxic shit towards mental health and healing and it triggers my own fight or flight and i become a ball of rage.

And like, I do get it. When you start your journey of mental health healing you often become the toxic one as you throw the shit people have said to you at everyone who also has similar mental health issues as you. (been there done that) Doing it to process your own rage at being told these things, or thinking, out of desperation, that if you can just get them to fix themselves quickly, you can fix yourself quickly. The bullied becomes the bully.

But then time passes and you realize this shit is hard to overcome. (or maybe it won't ever be overcome! and that's okay!) And you stop being toxic and you start being compassionate, to yourself and others. And eventually you start to heal and become confident in your own self worth and the validity of your emotions.

But before then it's the fucking worst place to watch someone be in. And that place is unfortunately where we are right now.

below is a short transcript of the convo this reflection is based off of. it can be triggering so like, don't feel obliged to read it.

11/10/24 kab vod: "I have no idea what's happening"

1:42:00 KAB: “what about how he makes me feel? Why is it so important what he feels and to accommodate everything he’s feeling? Why do i have to conceded to that???”

1:44:00 “I’m sick of having to accommodate to everyone else’s actions” 

realizing your masking is hurting you is one of the worst realizations (imo). bc the mask keeps you safe, but if you can't process or give worth to your real emotions, it's not serving you.

so she swaps from processing her own feeling to being angry at zam.

1:47:00 She gets he needs time and space, but “We don't have time for to try and sit and process your emotions properly. Do it after we deal with this fucking issue [...] sometimes you just need to toughen up” 

Fucking hell the trigger i just felt for just toughen up. 

1:48:00 “i need to know what he’s thinking so that we can work together. In a team!” 

what team!?!

“‘Does zam really hate communication more than he likes spawn and the server’ literally. Like pick your priorities dude.”

I’m going to fucking throw up. Because yes. Actually yes. Unfortunately and actually yes. He's gotten a lot better but like.

1:53:00 “I dunno. I wish he would care about himself as much as i care about him. Hard to see him like this [pause] maybe he does need more nurturing than i can give him bro ugh. I am just not- i am not good at that shit. I think it’s stupid [..] when you have a job to do [..] just shove your emotions away for a bit. And then you can process them later” 

I was going to say this is just eclipse, but I just realized that maybe it's just this is exactly the perception Zam had of Vi: that Vi just wanted him to move on when he couldn't. All his deepest fears of what Vi wanted from him are being personified into a new person. 

(also he is shoving his emotions away and that's why he's not processing it and giving you an answer for why he "doesn't know"????? but since he's not a perfect ball of joy and masking to you and because he is doing what you can't (shove emotions away) you are in rage)

1:54:00  “But it’s like, while there’s a life or death situation that literally determines the entire server we don't have time to be like, holding your hand, you know? Like, you're an adult” ughh fuck. being broken is inconvenient for others and age is seen as an invalidation to any of your real brokenness. If you're old you no longer have the right to be broken. Can we please change this narrative? thx

“If he cared enough he would actively try and do something to help himself in this situation” 

Interesting choice of words to say "he would try to help himself if he cared" complaining about others not "working" on themselves (and you can never know if someone is working on themselves bc you're not in their brain) helps nobody bc you can only control yourself.

“You just want to sit and feel bad about yourself” no that's what you're doing kab

“He got me to fucking open up to him and pour my heart out and is now turning his back on that entirely. That’s what i’m actually more upset about” 

oh the naive belief that because you pour your heart out to someone they must reciprocate. That is the risk you take when you are honest with someone about your feelings. They are at no obligation to reciprocate ever. Never ever. But that doesn't mean your feelings aren't true and it doesn't mean you shouldn't have done it. Love is a risk.

But also she feels she was forced into it. Forced to be vulnerable and she hates the vulnerability. She doesn't remember (or believe) that Zam promised to not use it against her. She isn't willing to give him the chance to not use it against her. He simply knows and that is a threat.

So love turns into spite. Instantly. And she doesn't want to talk to him anymore. And decides that she will just be fake to him.

oh girl. keeping the mask on doesn't help anything. 

“I’ve lost a lot of respect for him today. I’m done trying to impress him”

and so the mask returns. and healing stops.

[kirbyofthestars]

you just dont want to confront the truth that your friend is a classic whiny white who continues the time-honored white traditions of trying to make everyone else accommodate in backhanded ways, pretending that having bare minimum understanding of any issue that isnt of direc concern is something worth being praised for, and distracting others from real problems because there was a disliked opinion shared

this is a pattern that has been going on for years, and the fact that you repeatedly jump to her defense like some representative of marginalized groups any time she gets called out on this behavior is honestly sad. take it from someone whos known her since 2017: she doesnt change. she says she will and wants to be better. nothing ever comes of it. why do you think you don’t know about any of the friends she had back then? because they got fed up with the vague posting and lies and selfishness and cut her off. she is a total social parasite. you even know someone who already figured it out

as for PayPal, I currently lack the funds to make a donation because I just had to refill my own prescriptions and healthcare in the US is a sick joke. if you post it Ill save it and donate later when I get paid, assuming I dont lose my job to the orange man throwing another tantrum between now and then and deciding that asian restaurants are illegal I wont be able to send 50 all at once, but I can try to contribute a few dollar when I can and no Palestinian fundraisers in more desperate need are on my radar. oh, yeah, ever notice how she stopped supporting those once it was no longer big news? wonder why that happened

I’ll indulge you.

1. It is certainly a choice to admit you’ve been stalking and harassing someone you haven’t been in direct contact with for almost a decade because they were bad at communicating with you when they were literally a child.

2. Your whataboutism in bringing up anti-Indigenous racism as a complete nonsequitur to rag on someone you don’t like (“people have real problems to deal with”) is utterly deranged and bigoted in itself, as are your attempts to paint me as some kind of pick-me Indian solely because I think you’re a moron for doing that. Mu keitekewn ki’l.

3. I’m in genuine awe that you think you’re righteously calling someone out on their vicious toxicity and not a creepy serial stalker who’s been obsessed with lolcowing a mentally ill woman since she was a kid because she doesn’t like a Nintendo character.

4. Calling anyone an anti-sex puritan for being uncomfortable with people vocally and persistently sexually harassing her is so beyond the fucking pale that I barely have the words for it.

I gotta be honest, mate. It can’t be healthy to be this obsessive over a person you haven’t spoken to in so many years. Just block her for good and stop sending her messages on a near-daily basis.

[cap-ironman]

2024 Cap-Iron Man Exchange Gifts unveiled on Jan 5

It’s the final day of reveals! Each day we will be revealing gifts created by 2024 Cap-Iron Man Holiday Exchange and Community Gifts event participants. The gifts will remain anonymous until January 7, giving everyone a chance to enjoy the works and guess the identities of creators. (Remember, if you've got a work in the collection, please remain anonymous until after creator reveals!)

Here are today’s gifts!

★ Ambrosia Recovery for Cap Iron Man Community (Marvel's Avengers video game, 200 words)

After rescuing Steve from the Ambrosia, Tony warms Steve up with a nice bath.

★ And Everywhere I See Love for Cap Iron Man Community (MCU, 2000 words)

Even the most observant can miss what is before him day after day…

★ at least a foot of snow on the ground for Cap Iron Man Community (MCU, 470 Words)

Steve and Tony get snowed in at the ski resort. Time for a leisurely day off.

★ Dear Fellow Traveler for Cap Iron Man Community (Marvel, 12363 words)

For the prompt: Fellow Traveler AU

★ A Fluffy, Fuzzy Christmas for Cap Iron Man Community (Avengers: Earth's Mightiest Heroes, 500 words)

Steve's cursed with lycanthropy over the Christmas period. Tony, as ever, is there to (try to) support Steve.

★ For Real for gryvon (MCU, 5409 words)

It all starts with a note on the noticeboard of Steve's building on Monday. I’m desperate. I’ll do anything—yes, you read it right, ANYTHING—if you give me a place to stay for the next three weeks until the end of the semester. I’m on the verge of a breakthrough with my project and don’t have the time, funding, or the brain space required for finding a place and living off campus. If your name is not Tiberius fucking Stone, send me a text and I’ll respond as soon as I’m out of my current coding stint. Steve reads the note three times with wide eyes and he’s sure his mouth is hanging open as he reaches for the piece of paper and pulls it off the board.

★ The Forest Retreat] for Cap Iron Man Community (MCU, 700 words)

The Avengers have to go into hiding again, Tony is not happy...

★ Have been for years for Cap Iron Man Community (MCU, 529 words)

Steve and Tony wake up married. Now what?

★ I'll Take Care Of You for Cap Iron Man Community (Marvel Adventures: Avengers, 4638 words)

steve has a bad day. tony wants to make him feel better. what actually makes steve feel better is looking after tony. featuring: a microwave recipe, steve being uninvited from a trip to the movies, an iron man picture book, surprise batroc, gray sweatpants, and a lot of fluff.

★ Impossibility for Cap Iron Man Community (Marvel 6160, 2949 words)

Steve can't get sick so why it does he have hanahaki? He's not in love with anyone so no one needs to know that he's coughing up flowers.

★ Just Talk To Him!!! for Cap Iron Man Community (MCU, 200 words)

Bucky tries to get Steve to finally talk to that human he has a crush on.

★ Let It Snow for Cap Iron Man Community (MCU, 3459 words)

For the prompt: trapped in a snowstorm, forced proximity

★ Matchmaking Always Requires a PowerPoint Presentation for Teyan (MCU, 1505 words)

Clint Barton’s Guide to Being a matchmaker featuring Powerpoint presentations, broken coffee mugs, and (supposedly) oblivious teammates.

★ meet me halfway for Cap Iron Man Community (MCU, 3561 words)

Tony and Steve are forced to share a tent during an Avengers camping trip, much to Tony's chagrin. It brings back memories of the last time they shared a bed over a decade ago at Clint's farm that he'd very much like to forget—such as that almost kiss they never talked about.

★ My Teeth Will Only Cut Your Lips, My Dear for Cap Iron Man Community (616, 4500 words)

The wolf only wants to protect his mate. Naturally, that means hunting down the creature who took him away.

★ The Mystery of Professor Rogers' Holiday Joy for Cap Iron Man Community (MCU, 1216 words)

MJ and her friends are curious about their art Professor Steve Rogers and his strained relationship with Mister T.

★ Not Like This for watermelonwarehouse (MCU, 8277 words)

Steve and Tony are captured while the Avengers are hitting a Hydra base in the aftermath of the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D. The kidnappers try to coerce Tony into helping them recreate the Super Soldier Serum using Steve's blood, but when he refuses, they think of another way to destroy Steve and Tony, and with them the Avengers. The success of their plan is only threatened by the fact that Steve and Tony have been secretly in love with each other.

★ on that ship he had a cow for Cap Iron Man Community (MCU, 9909 words)

A mission monitoring a farm on a site where recurring alien abductions have been reported goes wrong, landing Steve and Tony aboard a very strange spaceship where everything is not as it seems. For one: Steve seems to be a humanoid cow, now, and Tony's the only farmer who knows how to properly milk the poor guy.

★ Rotgut for tinystark616 (616, 3002 words)

“I had the best of intentions and so little experience. I was just trying to make a difference, as best I could. And even today, looking back on it all, I don't know if it was the right choice.” —Tony Stark in Iron Man Vol. 3 #1

★ A Solid Welcome Home for Cap Iron Man Community (MCU, 400 words)

Tony comes home to Steve's Brooklyn apartment.

★ Shadow of Stark for Cap Iron Man Community (1872, 400 words)

Things have been difficult for Tony after the Sheriff's death. Particularly his relationship with the townspeople.

★ Slip That Past Me Again? for Cap Iron Man Community (MCU, 500 words)

Howard hears some upsetting information regarding his son's relationship and takes action to find out the truth.

★ 10 Signs Your Ship is Real for Cap Iron Man Community (Marvel's Avengers video game, 1127 words)

Kamala secretly ships stony, but of course she knows they're not really together...are they?

★ 21st Century Captain for Cap Iron Man Community (6160 Ults, 500 words)

Steve's just finished catching up on all that he'd missed of history. Tony rushes over to be by his side.

To check out all of this year’s gifts (so far!), head over to the 2024 Captain America/Iron Man Holiday Exchange AO3 Collection.

When your gift is revealed, please be sure to comment and thank your gifter!

If you’re the creator of a gift that’s now been revealed, you can reply to any comments and stay anonymous — AO3 will automatically show you as "Anonymous Author" until the creator reveals.

Finally, you may want to change the publication date of your work to today’s date so that it shows up at the top of AO3's feeds. AO3’s guide is available here and we have a more detailed version here.

Happy holidays, and we hope you enjoy all of the revealed works!

♥ Your 2024 Cap-Iron Man Holiday Exchange and Community Gifts mods

[shootingstarpilot]

Hi. I've kind of been struggling for a while with how and where exactly to say this but I'm going to start simple. Thank you. Thank you for writing shoulder the sky. Thank you for portraying Obi-wan checking out of himself with such compassion and showing how the people who love him react. I've been struggling with talking about depersonalization and derealization for years. My partner has been trying desperately to drag me back when I go away. My therapists never really knew what to say when I expressed fears of not being able to come back, of still not being real, of lingering expressions of the feeling, of limbs that are existing almost twice in their alien nature and familiarity, and I hope that your deep understanding is accidental or research based because I felt seen. I hope you don't also leave yourself and that these methods aren't from experience because it helped. The methods the clones use to bring Obi-wan back help. Thank you for writing the clones as Brothers. You didn't have to include their communal love, their sibling bullshit, or their fights but you did and it feels real and comforting. Thank you for Stitch. Thank you for Needle. Thank you for Helix. Thank you for your focus on the medics. They're all beautiful and comforting and I am equally invested in their story. This has been a lot. But thank you.

I've held onto this for over a month, and I really can't express how many times I've come back to reread it. Thank you so much for sharing all of this. Writing this has been incredibly cathartic, and I'm glad you could find some relief reading it. It's been nice to imagine, you know- what if the sickness and the struggle was for a good reason? What if it wasn't just the result of a shitty genetic lottery or the lingering effects of some pointless cruelty? What if you were sick, and it let you save the galaxy?

Anyway. Thank you for the incredibly kind message. May 2025 lead to getting better, and finding better tools to manage where we don't.

[allwormdiet]

Extermination 8.3

Oh fucking boy

This isn't a really revelatory passage, it's just like. Even more reinforcement that Leviathan is a fucking beast. More dead, more downed.

Taylor the fact that you even bothered to show up is above and beyond what should ever be asked of you, you are fifteen for fuck's sake, staking your life against the defeat of a hateful animate Splash Mountain is not your fucking purview! You should be playing Minecraft or something!

"Sorry I wasn't traumatized in a way that lets me save your life" Hello??

I can't imagine Taylor gets to feel like a part of most communities, honestly. Also I'm not sure that the cape community is any kind of monolith, so whether she "fits in" with them all is kind of moot.

Byyyye, Iron Falcon.

That's such a funny thing to ask somebody, honestly.

And then this is a crazy hardcore thing to ask somebody. This arc does a lot to establish that Skitter is just straight up on another level when it comes to comfort on the battlefield compared to even veteran capes, girl will nearly get pulped by Neptune's fucking wrath and then wonder why other people died while she's still conscious

Oh, Taylor. I'm so sorry, he only gets worse the more layers you get into him.

Also. Okay so Gregor the Snail felt like a pretty sympathetic perspective on how fatphobia stings people, but the life and death of Chubster in the realm of this story... kinda sucks. Like oh no, he's too heavy for Skitter to save him, have to leave him to drown I guess. I'm not saying it's an impossible circumstance, it just feels crass to have it in.

Hey Flechette, keep up the good work girl

The thing I keep coming back to with the Endbringers is that. Okay. These things have been causing horrific damage, mass death, and world-changing devastation for decades, and they've never been killed, and only one cape has ever meaningfully made the things fuck off in the history of ever. They are considered to be the most likely cause of extinction for humanity. Every time it seems like they're winning, even in the short-term, it's just the setup for another knockdown. It's giving them hope just so the despair hits deeper. What are the odds that's on purpose? What are the odds that everything the Endbringers suffer except Scion is just play-acting for them? Selling the capes' moves like it's a wrestling match, even as they don't feel a goddamn thing.

What if it's all just a sick game to an alien god?

This is so cool and so, so fucking dire.

God that's dark

Sacrifice play. Some desperate attempt to redeem himself in the public view maybe? A genuine belief that he can make this stick? I dunno. It doesn't matter, unfortunately.

What a way to sell the fucking outrageous devastation that this monster unleashes in the span of. What, an hour? Less?

Also hey what good is all the missiles and lasers and forcefields if Leviathan is just gonna pick the whole PHQ up and smash it onto the shoreline

So many goddamn downed, it's crazy. And y'know, knowing the rest of the arc we know Tattletale's still standing but of course Skitter is fucked up over losing Tattletale, that's the last person she's got who's willing to extend a hand towards her.

Most powers are dead useless here let's be real

Hey, good job Eidolon

Fucking brave of y'all to be shooting Bakuda bombs anywhere in the same ZIP code as someone you care about, but also god it would be so cool if this had actually worked. Just fucking lock Leviathan down in time out for a hundred years or so, buy that much time? Shame it fails.

Well. I'm not gonna miss the fucking Nazis, but rip in peace Dauntless, we hardly knew ye.

Triumvirate member tagged out. Alexandria was already down for the count, wasn't she? Or she at least stopped showing up at some point, so now it's just Eidolon repping the Big Three

although I guess if you asked Eidolon he'd call it "just Big Me"

First dead kid out of the lot, I think, if we don't count Falcon dying off the battlefield. Sorry, Shielder. I think Leviathan knew you were strong enough to keep being a problem. Gotta be fucking awful for Laserdream though, watching your brother die violently in front of you is. I actually can't imagine, thank fuck.

And then Sundancer down but not out. Honestly if anyone was gonna have decent odds of doing damage I'd have given it to The Fucking Sun, but that doesn't do much for defense does it.

Fucking outrageously brutal, god.

Man. I didn't even think about the fact that this thing is silent the entire time. No Godzilla roars or shit the entire time, nothing except for the rush of water.

Clockblocker keeps coming in clutch to save the day against citywide threats... Someone please for the love of god stop putting these children in the line of fire.

Also interesting that Taylor might be the only one here whose first response is to get him out of the water, for all that he's been her enemy.

Clever.

Taylor can be really harshly judgmental at times but I'm gonna be real I'm with her on this one, Trickster what the actual fuck is your problem. Like good job I guess but what the hell.

Y'know, the fucked up thing is that Armsmaster actually isn't wrong here, and his plan could've worked if he was, uhh. Genuine about it.

Does everybody's ability to give a speech go down the fucking toilet when an Endbringer is within half a mile of them? Is that what it is?

Current Thoughts

Wildbow really fucking knows how to put a battle together. Our POV character isn't actually fighting through 95% of this entire arc (and maybe shouldn't have been fighting in that 5% but we'll get there) but you feel just totally surrounded by the death and devastation that's raining down on all sides.

Unfortunately, I think it's about time for Armsmaster's big reveal on how to lose an arm and a shitload of credibility in record timing.