#kinda wanna write a whole fic for this???

[dollgxtz]

One like and I’ll write a mini fic with the whole “cat curse” thing but with US as the cat 🫣.

With smut ofc DUH. In fact, I kinda want to do this with all 4 boys.

I just know Sylus would be so excited if we had a tail to pull🤭. I mean cmon, his kitten is now a real kitten. He’s gonna wanna tease us to the point that we’re practically mewling for him.

Zayne would probably cater to our every need and care for us like you would a real cat. Especially if we got “needy” 😌.

Rafayel would probably tease us about becoming the thing he hates the most and playfully ignore us, but after some “convincing” (wink wink) he changes his mind on cats.

Xavier would definitely get morbidly curious and tease our weak spots, seeing which spots gets us the most riled up.

[ccazimi]

possible idea for a new sukuna x reader fic

in lieu of neglecting my longfic....

i have some ideas swirling around as concepts for new sukuna/f!reader fics, and i kinda wanna mess around with ideas of reincarnation, reader having a soul tie with sukuna, and a psychological story where the reader slowly falls into insanity (based on TDS album NIN bc i love them and that album as much as i love sukuna mwah)

so i was like how do i lowkey just combine all these elements into one story and now im thinking of a plot where essentially the story begins with the reader as a normal woman during the heian era with latent cursed energy. she's done dirty by sukuna somehow (he kills her) and in her moment of death a lifetime's worth of cursed energy manifests as a soul tie.

the woman reincarnates in the present day world, unaware at first of this whole past life ordeal and the soul tie. eventually some weird connection awakens and essentially when the woman she sleeps she wakes up in true form sukuna's body during the heian era (using him as a vessel), and eventually when sukuna sleeps he can wake up in the woman's body in the modern day. essentially they are connected despite the time gap and can use each other as vessels whenever they sleep. i intend the woman to slowly fall into some kind of insanity over the course of the story, or at least spiral downwards.

[inkedinfusions]

the imagery for that whole paragraph is STUNNING! I can imagine it so perfectly in my mind with the way you describe it. Istg the way you describe things is pure art in and of itself

!!!Thank you!! I find that I really like writing descriptive scenes. That is also why I struggled a little with the dialogue in the beginning, because up until the key, all the short stories I've written have no dialogue at all. I love love love describing spaces, feelings, and the character's metal state. I think they can be used by the reader to better insert themselves in the scene.

I love that you added this in cause I’m betting a lot of people might’ve been questioning if it was Zeke too

Yes! Its a logical conclusion on a surface level, but we must not forget that the Scouts had absolutely no idea that the Volunteers were a thing, and much less that they worked under Zeke. Also, it would be impossible to send anything to the island prior to Yelena's ship, as there were no other shipments to the island from anyone else, and Paradis does not have any radio technology yet.

same Reader saaaame! I can imagine it so perfectly in my head too the little smile he gave us 🤭 got me giggling and shit

Meeeee!! My sister is used to my bs so she didn't question me when I started giggling in front of my computer lmaoo

so I’m guessing then based off that line that I was right to have guessed last chapter that it is due to his future memories that he knows Readers name. That’s so interesting and I’m curious to see Eren potentially tell Reader all about that and just see what he knows

Ding ding ding! You were right on the money. I like the idea that, just as aot is a timeloop of sorts, fics are timeloops too. So I incorporated than into the key. My reasoning is: if Y/n is going to be an important part of the story, and future!Eren sends key memories to his younger self, then why would she not appear in the memories? Kinda spoilery but not really because its an Eren fic, he knows (being the Attack Titan) how the government or military would react to a random girl, much younger than any of the Volunteers, arriving to the island, and then becoming close to The scout squad. So in order to ensure her safety he ■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■ (<- you can probably guess but I'm keeping it hidden for my own enjoyment lol)

AHHHHHHHH THE TAPESTRY LINE AGAIN!? it’s so gooooddd!!! I’m so happy you used that metaphor again! I love especially that you used it for this line here “…a loose thread will ultimately be pulled by an unknown force, sending you tumbling down once again.” It’s just such a good metaphor and I love the way you’ve been using it

Tapestry metaphor! Tapestry metaphor! Tapestry metaphor! Metaphors and anaphoras my true loves.

girl I don’t know why you were scared about writing the scouts wrong! I love the way you wrote Hange. I thought you captured her more�� eccentric and dramatic (idk what other words to use) personality really well and I also loved how you wrote Levi’s distrust of the volunteers

Aughhhh thank you! I always get nervous when writing new characters but they always end up writing themselves. Levi is def not trusting the Volunteers, but does he trust Y/n? probably not guess you'll have to wait and see.

oooo that’s interesting. I’m excited to see what they wanna do with Reader

:DDDDDDD

Anyway, thanks for writing out your thoughts! I always look forward to reading what you thought about the chapter, as well as any theories you have for me. Thank you for reading!

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐞𝐲 | eren jaeger chapter 8

⊱𖣂⊰ | In which you fall into a fictional world with the key to Pandora's box.

⊱𖣂⊰ | masterlist

⊰– prev   next–⊱

𝟎𝟖 | 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

chapter word count: 3.3 k

content warnings: blanket warnings

a/n: So we are doing this again, where I say that I'm too busy and the next chapter will take a while and then I turn my back and upload on schedule. Anyway. I hope ya'll enjoyed last chapter's cliffhanger!

Thanks for reading!

𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 are taken aback is a gross understatement; you’re utterly stunned. Your eyes widen a fraction, and for a millisecond the air, the ocean, and your heart all still. 

Never in your dreams –well, maybe some of them– would you have thought that your name would come out of his mouth seconds after meeting you. There are no introductions to serve as prelude to his words, no past interactions to serve as crutch for rationalization. 

The gleaming moonlight is suddenly much more brilliant, bathing you both in silver rays. Your hair sways in the salty ocean breeze, and so does his, matching yours in a gentle rhythm. The wind is much calmer than the storm that heralded your arrival, air strangely warmer despite the environment that would suggest otherwise. 

Your name in his lips is not a question, but rather an answer. 

He, somehow, knows who you are, as his tone does not ask if that is your name, but instead states it with the certainty only someone familiar with another can. It is strange, how his eyes speak of understanding, how his stance speaks of kinship.

You are frozen in place for what seems like eternity, but is likely just a couple of seconds. Hange’s enthusiastic voice is lost in the pulse of the sea’s waves, in the drum of your heart, in the whisper of breath of your unasked questions. 

How? Is the first one your mind asks.

Zeke, you reply, before discarding the idea. It is neither logically sound nor something coherent with the instructions and warnings you were given. The Scouts never knew about the Volunteers before they set foot on the island, never considered such an organization's existence in the first place, and much less one that Zeke led. 

Invariably, you know him. 

Unexpectedly, he knows you. 

“What?” you instead ask out loud, when you notice that he is searching your response for confirmation.  

You hesitate with your question, not unlike when you first asked Yelena who she was. It is terrifying how, just when you feel you have a grasp on what is happening, the rug is pulled from your feet and you are left dazed and confused on the floor. 

It makes you think that when you reweave a new carpet from your loom, when you believe you can see the whole picture it depicts, a loose thread will ultimately be pulled by an unknown force, sending you tumbling down once again. 

You are a bit embarrassed of yourself when he gives you a small smile and your stomach flutters just as your cheeks heat up. Maybe this is a dream you think, and it's not the first time that you are hesitant to accept reality, but it is the first occasion that you don't compare it to a nightmare. 

“Don’t pretend like you dont know me,” he says, further baffling you. “We both know way too much for that.”

“We do?” you ask, before correcting your tone. “We do.”

Eren tilts his head slightly, transferring his weight from one foot to another. “Yeah.”

You’ve noticed that there is a lot of space for silence in your life. Whether it contains unsaid secrets, unasked questions, or unresolved doubts, it always lingers behind you, never broken, never explained. 

And yet now, even with the uncertainty with which you approach the newborn conversation, there is implied solidarity in his words, in his actions. Eren didn’t try to pretend he was ignorant of you for the sake of having aces under his sleeve, nor did he attempt to trade that tidbit of information for another. 

Instead he came down the hill –because you are certain he was given explicit orders to not approach the ship’s crew– and talked to you, making it known that you had a connection. One that may only be just brought forth, but that came to life months before your first meeting, when he received his medal and his memories and his burden, and when you watched his story and his rage and his salvation.

You hear a whistle in the distance, and you whip your head towards its source, the sand and rock shore where the two Volunteers and two Scouts remain. You glance at them, too far away to distinguish their faces, their number, but knowing anyways who it is that stands there. Or maybe not, but you couldn't bear to think that your information was now obsolete. 

“I have to go,” you confess as if it is a great sin. 

Eren, who also turned his eyes to the shrill whistle, looks at you again. You swear his eyes soften, and gleam with something akin to… beholding? As quickly as these thoughts enter your mind you dismiss them, because, even if he could claim to know you through his future memories, it doesn’t excuse what you think you see. And so, you conclude it must be a trick of the light and of your perceived closeness to him through his story. 

He nods, not moving from his place between the dunes. You swallow, also not wanting to withdraw, but then you blink and the spell is broken on your end. The sand once again crunches underfoot, but then you stop when he calls your name again in a soft voice that is carried your way by the salty breeze. And so you cast your eyes upon him again, humming questioningly.

“Tell them your name,” is what Eren says after a moment. “They don't know,” he continues, infusing the word with weight, “but they learned.”

And it should be painfully awkward, how blunt questions and half finished answers are being thrown about, but there is no discomfort in the exchange. You know, and he knows, and you hadn’t realized how refreshing it was to just be, not relieved from the burdens but breathing in spite of them. You wonder if he has come to the same realization. 

“I will,” you say. “Thank you.”

“I’ll find you later,” he says. 

“Yeah,” you answer, almost tripping over your words. “Okay.”

You dont think to ask why until much later, when your feet have already taken you to the other side of the pier, sand crunching rhythmically under your robotic footsteps. Why he would tell you, and why now, and why in that way. But the more you delve into it, the more obvious it becomes. 

Eren knows what is supposed to happen (giant footsteps and crunching bones and the spray of blood and–) and is, in his eyes, powerless to do anything but follow the path already established by his future self, who is likewise chained by the same revelations. Perhaps you are as well, if the haunted look in his eyes is any indication of the unstoppable future that will be realized in a little more than three years. 

Still, everyone seeks salvation, even those who sacrifice themselves in order to save others. You and him are no exception. 

You will save him from his preordained fate, determined by his past, by his future. He will save you from your uncertain destiny, shrouded in mystery and paradoxes. 

Maybe you don't need to reweave a new tapestry just yet; maybe it's enough to only untangle the yarn. 

Hange Zoë is no less enthusiastic than the character you used to watch on Tv. Levi Ackerman is no less distrustful than the man you read manga about. They haven’t greeted you yet, as you’ve only just arrived to stand behind Yelena, next to Onyankopon. 

He glances at you when you arrive, silently asking with his eyes what held you back. You shake your head almost imperceptibly, imploring that neither he nor Yelena press the issue. 

“Is that her?” Hange chirps, curiously referring to you. 

You almost want to look behind you, to see if there's anyone else they might have been talking about, but you know there is no one else in your vicinity, and you're the only one who has approached recently enough to warrant the question. 

“She is the last one.” Yelena says. “Please excuse her tardiness.”

“Oh! Well, in that case it's so nice to meet–” 

“Four eyes,” Levi interrupts. “Now's not the time for chit-chat.” He turns to glance at you, before returning to look at Yelena, the de facto leader. “Expect the ship to be searched while we escort you three to our base.”

“I would expect nothing less,” is what Yelena responds. “Your caution is commentable.”

“Sure,” Levi says dryly, not an ounce of belief in his voice, signaling unnamed Scouts to march onto the ship and its crew. “Get walking.”

You all file in, walking amongst the dunes and rocks, with Yelena at the helm of your little group. You feel eyes on you, but when you turn to look no one in your direct vicinity is watching. Instead, you trip when going up some slippery rocks, too preoccupied with searching for nonexistent eyes, but fortunately Onyankopon catches you, grabbing your arm to prevent your fall. 

The rifle slung over his shoulder rattles with the commotion, and you feel how the others turn to look at you, before registering both your actions as non threatening. 

“Careful there, kid,” Onyankopon says. 

“Thanks,” you say breathlessly, heart still reeling from your near slip. “Sorry for the, uh, tardiness.”

“It's all good,” he reassures you, although you know your notoriety for being late is only growing. 

You also know –well, maybe not know, but you are smart enough to deduce– that Onyankopon does want to ask you about your reasons for not heading directly to the pier after the Volunteer in charge of letting you out of your small cabin reported to his post. 

But he won’t pose the question right now, where there is a great chance of being overheard, and where exchanging secrets would only cause more suspicion from the Scouts. 

There is no idle chatter as you make your way to the multiple tents that make up the Scout’s base, scattered around an open field in an orderly fashion. Small yellow dots light up the entrance flaps of each green structure, and there are multiple barrels strewn around. 

You once again feel eyes on you, only this time you are aware of who those eyes belong to. It is a given that the other soldiers would be apprehensive about the Volunteers sudden appearance, but you notice how their attention lingers a tad too long on you. 

You force yourself not to squirm under the weight of their curiosity, of their judgment. Yelena and Onyankopon get noticed as well, but it is you that garners the most attention. Because, well, adults are what they expected Marley to send, but a teenager? Even if you are older than some of the recruits and Marley didn’t actually send you, it was still something they didn’t account for. 

So it is strange, even to you, who was made aware of this prematurely, how you are included in the small group with the proclaimed leaders of the Volunteer faction. Yeah, you can see why all eyes are primarily on you. 

Hange reaches a tent that seems larger than all of the others, and enters through the flap, and the rest of you follow, flanked by Levi. They grab at the knob of the hanging lantern and the space is coated with light. On the inside there is a table and red chairs, two on one side, two on the other. Hange brings a third one from a corner, raising the total to five.

“Sit, sit!” they usher you, taking their place on the other side of the table. 

“Weapons on the table,” Levi says, less enthusiastically. 

You don't have any weapons to turn in, so you walk towards the chair on the far right and sit, fiddling with your thumbs before you remember to quash the anxieties bubbling inside of you. There is a strong sense of deja vu when you reach for one of the teacups gingerly placed on the table, noting with some sourness how bitter tea always seems to follow you in interrogations and introductions. 

You disassociate for a moment, choosing to retreat into your thoughts, rewinding your earlier interaction with Eren over and over again, not unlike what you used to do with his older brother. 

What sets it apart is the intention with which you are dissecting it, turning his words upside down to squeeze more of that refreshing understanding (You know, and he knows, and you hadn’t realized how refreshing it was to just be—) out. 

There is silence again, but this time it is filled with tension. You blink, unsettled by the lack of discussion between the two Volunteers and the two Scouts, only to find the later ones looking at you expectantly, Levi’s expression disguised with more finesse than Hange’s.

“…Sorry, what?” you ask. 

“Your name,” Hange clarifies. “I asked for your name.”

“Oh,” you say. “It’s Y/n.”

There is something almost imperceptible in the way Hange fiddles with Yelena’s gun, a recognition in both their and Levi’s eyes that you might’ve missed were it not for Eren’s insistence in presenting yourself with your name. 

You risk a glance at Yelena but her eyes are on you, not them, as are Onyankopon’s, so you let yourself breathe, halfway convinced they didn’t notice.

Hange does not miss a beat. “It’s nice to meet you Miss Y/n!” they say, drowning out your protests of Just Y/n please— and placing the gun back on the table, next to the rifle.

You nod, hesitant. “It’s nice to meet you too, uh, …?” You trail off, not remembering if they already introduced themselves or not.

“Hange Zoë, at your service!” They say, nudging Levi when he doesn’t say anything.

“Levi Ackerman.” And if you notice the distinct lack of add on like Hange’s introduction, well, that is to be expected.

Yelena takes the opportunity to steer the conversation away from pointless (to you) introductions and unimportant (to her) dialogue.

“So, about our proposal…”

She launches onto the plan you rehearsed and memorized with Zeke, drilled into your mind enough times as to prevent any slip ups of the scheme only him, Yelena, and you know.

It’s not different at all from the one presented in the series, and although you now have it branded deep in your mind, back home you had to watch several videos and read several posts in order to understand. 

The beauty of Attack On Titan was in the convoluted yet intriguing plot and themes, yet sometimes you needed outside help to comprehend half of the stuff that was going on. The fact that each character has their own motivations and their own secrets on top of the changing allegiances do nothing to help.

Still, hours and hours spent scraping the wiki and watching compilations finally pay off, and you’re confident in your ability to not only remember each plan, but also the people involved and the moments in which their loyalties shifted.

The motions are well rehearsed; Zeke will contact the nation of Hizuru, and Hizuru will contact the outside world, advocating for Paradis, as well as provide the blueprints necessary to help advance the island’s technology.

The plan would take around fifty years to reach completion, the amount of time that is estimated as enough to take to bring Paradis to a similar level technology wise to the rest of modern society. There would be a small-scale Rumbling to show off the island’s power, acting as a deterrent for nations with wishes to invade. 

Hange takes the gun again, pointing it directly at their face. It is unloaded, but it still unnerves you. You weren’t a gun savvy by any means, but the first thing you had been taught by Zeke when going over gun safety was to never ever point the gun at yourself, not even when it had the safety on, not even when it was unloaded. 

Yelena lists off the numbers of personnel in the army, counting all the divisions; the infantry, the navy, and aerial forces. Despite Hange’s and Levi’s best attempts, it is evident how frazzled they are by the revelation. 

One million foot soldiers, three fleets of twenty one battle ships each, new technologies and aerial weapons. Those are the new enemies that they must now fight against, a stark contrast to the mindless but brutal titans they are used to dealing with. 

“If Marley had such capabilities the whole time, why haven’t they attacked in over a year?” asks Hange. 

“There are two main reasons,” Yelena begins. “One; the Pure Titans. Even with the latest weapons available to Marley, they would hinder a land assault. Quite ironic that the very thing that is used to confine Eldians to the island also protects it from outside forces.” 

“Yeah, well, ain’t that funny,” Levi says. 

Yelena sips her tea. “Still, I’m impressed.”

“Impressed?” Hange asks.

Yelena doesn’t answer, choosing instead to take a sip from her cup. She looks at her right, directly at you, as if she wanted you to answer in her place. And you can't and won't ever be able to read her mind, but you’re pretty sure you can guess what she is playing at. 

“It's almost dawn,” you point out. “And we are sitting in a tent drinking tea. There is no commotion outside, no one hurrying to their fighting posts. There are also no protective structures around the base, suggesting that you have exterminated almost if not all titans on the island.”

It's clear they weren't expecting you to speak. Even if Eren told them something, the most logical approach to your presence in the tent was as a buffer, something for the Scouts to pick at, to find weakness in. Yelena is helping you overcome that, because, even if it would be easier to infiltrate them if you are deemed as non-threatening, the trust that would be placed upon you should you be assessed as capable makes them want to take the gamble. 

“And the second reason?” Hange asks. 

“Currently, Marley is at war with multiple nations,” Yelena says. “The loss of the Colossal and Female titan, as well as the defeat of their Warrior unit has given many of their enemies the chance to unite and retaliate against Marley.”

“If you guys are secret agents who infiltrated Marley, I’m guessing you came from conquered nations?” Hange asks. 

Yelena’s and Onyankopon’s faces harden– one fake, one true. 

“Oh, I’m right?!,” they exclaim after. “I bet you’ve got some pretty big backers to go up against Marley then.”

“Not quite,” Yelena says, and after a moment she clarifies. “Onyankopon and I are from conquered nations, but Y/n is Eldian.” There is only one truth in her whole statement, a new record. “We were powerless, forced to play soldiers for the nation that took our homes, but Y/n was deemed a devil the moment she was born.”

The fake backstory you're using makes you a little uncomfortable, but it sure was convenient. They wanted to paint you as smart, but not too intelligent as to outsmart Paradis. Dependable, but not a pushover. Eldian, just like them, facing obstacles even when outside the walls. 

You tune out Yelena praising Zeke for organizing the Anti-Marleyan Volunteers, calling him a god amongst mortals. You hoped that small, subtle discomfort showed in your face, so the two members of the Scouts present would notice that you weren't lost in reverence for Zeke. 

“We are the Anti- Marleyan Volunteers,” she finishes. “Our goal: To free the Eldian people.”

Levi and Hange share glances, no doubt discussing the answer they would give. 

“We would like assurance of your allegiances,” Levi says. “You will not be able to contact Eren, or any of the others for that matter, but we want the girl to come with us.”

taglist: @dressycobra7 @xngelsau @bloodchapell @i-think-im-adorable13 @luna4mnoon @yuuuumii @kermittears @binluvsu

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[awearywritersworld]

tonight i'm thinking about rich and lonely nanami x private chef reader???? random, i know, but i swear i've got something here.

as soon as he hires you, he tells you to buy enough ingredients to make a portion for yourself each meal, no matter how lavish it is.

and he's not like the other men you've worked for. he gives you your space. he doesn't hover. he isn't weird.

but even so, he's so complimentary of the food you make for him. it kind of makes your knees wobbly whenever he takes a bite of his dinner, because his eyes squeeze shut and he groans out, "this is delectable."

at some point, you begin to join him for meals. you're still in your apron, your hair clinging to your forehead after spending hours in the hot kitchen. flour and grease stains are splattered across your frame.

he doesn't mind though. actually, he thinks you look even more appetizing than the food you prepare for him each evening.

"have dinner with me tonight?" he asks somewhat shyly. "let's go out to a nice restaurant.. you can have the night off."

[transmasccofee]

Aww yea rescue scene

[alien-slushie]

I'm sorry, but is anyone else flabbergasted that, as far as Deruth knows, his "drunk" 18 year old son randomly brought home and man one night and just kinda...kept him?

Like, Deruth, honey, why did you not question that?

Like, I get it: "it's a story and blah blah blah it doesn't matter in story or in the plot!", but realistically if my child brought home a random man while hammered I would be very concerned.

[trashedanatomy]

Spinaraki week day six: Crossover

My Yu-Gi-Oh propaganda

Tomura summons Shuichi as Gagagigo!

[mouthfullofmunson]

So obsessed with the thought of fake dating Eddie…

I feel like it would be him in his own delusional mind who would bring it up

Maybe him and Y/n don’t know each other that well, but they still know each other nonetheless

It takes Eddie a long time to convince her to actually do it, with him coming to the conclusion that it would actually benefit the both of them! How so? Because she can start working on her “bag girl reputation”, not that she had any sort of big image to maintain in Hawkins

So she agrees to it

She goes over to his trailer and he draws up some big pro and cons list to further convince her to actually go through with whole charade

“And, you’ll get a front row seat to all of corroded coffins gigs, so that’s a plus… right?”

Of course with how many ways this could go wrong (or make y/n look like a fool) she decides to lay some ground rules

Eddie has already make himself look like an absolute idiot by lying to his band mates for months about some secret girlfriend who is the “perfect girl for him” and how they are “so in love”

And now that they are going on some “band bonding trip” in a cabin for a whole week, which has some how turned into them all bringing their partners??

And with much much pressure from all of the guys, Eddie finally agreed to bring his girlfriend on the trip

So then he had to scramble around and find a girl that matches his description of the so called girlfriend… and lucky Y/n is the perfect match (maybe that was planned all along but Eddie will never admit it!)

Before they know it they are off, Eddie hauling all of them up to the cabin in his van

Him and Y/n lay down some ground rules first, trying to make it realistic and look like a real couple without crossing boundaries

(A couple days before the trip they try to get to know each other as well as they can so they are fully comfortable around each other for a week)

They decided they would ease in, holding hands, hugs, and cheek kisses are always okay, but it might take a while to actually kiss

And as much as Eddie ran his mouth about his fake girlfriend there is no way they could get away with not being affectionate

So the drive up they really milked the whole holding hands thing since it is one of the things that aren’t off limits

They threw in a couple hugs when they stopped for gas, and Eddie pressed a kiss to her head once when he was pumping gas, but other than that they didn’t try to push it

Once they get to the cabin both Eddie and Y/n b-line for their bedroom, obviously the guys thinking for a complete different reason but it was actually because Eddie is exhausted from driving and Y/n is exhausted from having to keep up with so many lies

It’s definitely awkward sharing a bed, but Y/n and Eddie find a way to deal with it without making too much of a fuss

Once they are both well rested and ready to join the group again I can see them starting a bonfire and sitting around to chat once the sun has gone down

One of them brings up how nice it’s going to be to get a “two week break”

Both Eddie and Y/n are instantly confused

Two weeks?

“Two weeks? Two weeks?!” Y/n almost shouts

“But it’s only supposed to be a week, right? We rented in for one week. As in seven days?”

“No, it’s rented for two weeks, fourteen days, half a month”

Y/n yanks Eddie to the side and after a very frustrating back and forth they come to the conclusion that they can deal with it, it’s only one more week

The first week is smooth, they got by well and they were both actually really comfortable around each other

Unfortunately, the other guys were very affectionate with their partners, way too much pda and Eddie knew it was just to prove a point

But hand holding only went so far so they finally had to suck it up and throw in a kiss or two

Which was awkward but by the start of week two it was feeling more natural

And before they knew it they actually had no problem acting like a couple

Now it was natural for Y/n to plop in Eddie’s lap, eddies hand now gravitates toward Y/n’s, kisses are much more natural

But that was kind of weird… right?

Y/n hardly even really knew of Eddie until 3 weeks ago and a week ago she could hardly even hold his hand

And now she was willingly wrapping herself around him and letting him press kisses to her face and she likes it??

And a couple days before they plan to leave maybe a kiss was taken a little too far

So the tension was so thick between them all day you could cut it with a knife

Once they finally get alone time once everyone goes back in their rooms and Eddie and Y/n are finally alone

They wait a few minutes before pouncing on each other like wild animals

I could see them being either super sweet and it being romantic or them being absolutely filthy and fucking like bunnies all night

OKAYYY I really wanna kind of make this into a full fic if anyone is interested in that? I’ve been working on this the past couple days and I’m really excited to post it for you guys even though you’ve all probably forgotten about me since I was inactive for basically 4+ months

Let me know your thoughts!

:)

[megabuild]

thinking about aro etho earlier got me thinking about a funny little song and dance near the end of s9 that goes like this: gem has been slowly getting closer to etho and has started to develop a little crush on him but plans not to do anything about it because he's in a relationship with bdubs > cleo takes note of this, gem complains about her stupid ass crush > cleo points out that actually while he is in a relationship with bdubs it's not necessarily exclusive (speaking through experience) > gem decides to get more bold, begins flirting with etho more outright > etho is oblivious > etho has always been oblivious > gem does not get over her crush but decides he must not be interested and lays back about it > s10 begins > joel smallishbeans arrives > joel smallish fucking beans arrives > joel flirts with etho > etho remains obliviousing > gem fuming > gem and joel begin a rivalry over which of them is entitled to etho's lack of affection > gem and joel are reprimanded for starting a fist fight after meeting outside the permit office > etho has been happily married since season 7

[mechazushi]

Kafka Hibino

Kafka Hibino.... with visible salt and pepper side burns.

Kafka Hibino.... wearing glasses and has salt and pepper side burns.

Kafka HIbino.... in that black turtleneck and a dark brown leather jacket and also wearing glasses and has salt and pepper side burns.

Kafka Hibino.... wearing that outfit and is an Animal Biology Professor in an College Au.

Kafka Hibino..... asking out Hoshina who is an Advanced Mathematics Professor working at the same college, to have an after-work drink with him.

Slightly DRUNK Kafka Hibino... becoming very forward with an also slightly drunk Hoshina

Slightly Drunk Hoshina... immediately matching Kafka's freak tenfold and Kafka is very much fine with this.

[marzipanladyart]

apathy

[piningpercussionist]

transfem scott getting lots of support from ramona and kim in the early 2000's when shit's very taboo but they all 3 have a fire forged bond and lord if they aren't going to make sure they're all as happy as they can be because they've come this far and I dunno it just makes me happy all three of them

YES YES YES

It makes me very happy as well,,

Like I've said before. General Trans Scott enthusiast here- I love the idea of their little support network *violent coughing* I (we?) mean polycule *violent coughing* so fucking much.

Ramona I think has a bit of a more gentle hand with reassuring Scott with gender issues, but sometimes she just can't help herself from some pointed banter or teasing- how could you with someone so dense? (Said w affection)

And then Kim I think is more blunt. But like, in a good way mostly, you know? The kinda blunt that makes you snap to attention and go "Oh. Yeah that was silly of me." And if Ramona's started some sort of banter? Kim is SO piling on. Maybe sometimes she's a bit TOO blunt with it- but it's only because she's so firm in her support. She wants Scott to Get It Together- and be happier for it. So if some ribbing now and again is in order, then goddamnit she will do so! Anything to crack that shell.

And ohhh can you imagine how they would react to some transphobic bullshit?? Unholy terror would be driven into the offender before they walk off with an absurd amount of coins between them. I can feel it in my bones. Scott doesn't even have to lift a finger (if the transphobe is even noticed/processed at all, bc I honestly can see Scott just. Not realizing someone's being transphobic.) Kim giving someone a lashing with her tongue as distraction and then Ramona coming in with the hammer- BAM! Free Money! Paying literally with your life for your transphobia. A Better And Just World.

And of course (transfem Scott more specifically, here,) the way Scott would start to flourish under their support... cagey and maybe a little (perhaps a lot-) resistant to start- but Kim's blunt affirmations and no nonsense attitude for bullshit (which is what Scott insisting on "being cis" would be, c'mon now,) and Ramona's also low bullshit tolerance but less Stabby (bc I won't lie, that's probably how Kim's comments would feel,) assurances? Ough... My Heart... Be Still-

I would Kill for them, Your Honor-

(Ran out of tags so putting this in the body of the post- I am SO tired someone pls sound off if this isn't as coherent as I am hoping this is. I WAS trying to nap and get the extra sleep I desperately needed but the writing bug... it Bit Me.... only a little but enough to stop that process-)

[umemiyan]

trigger warning: dark content, incest, virginity loss, possessiveness, sukuna being a megalomaniac, this feels so very game of thrones of me i’m so sorry

if sukuna has daughters, he’s going to be the first one to take them; not necessarily for his own sick and twisted pleasure, but as an act of pure dominance, marking his territory in every way imaginable. he’ll stretch their unused holes and show them that nothing will ever replace the ultimate authority of their father; nothing else will ever fill them so wholly, command their deepest respect, and protect them as fiercely as he can. it’s as much of a reminder for the girls as it is for anyone who dares to pursue them. many may try to prove themselves and halfway succeed, but nobody can truly replace the first, most important person in the girls’ lives: their father, the all-powerful king.

and in the end, no suitor is worthy enough for his children, so perhaps he will simply keep them all to himself rather than marry them off. the thought of a pathetic weakling putting their hands on his offspring is revolting—insulting—so sukuna refuses to entertain the idea any further. after all, there is no better place for a daughter than next to her father who rules all, including her mind, body, and soul.

[quirkle2]

who wants zombie au writing. don't answer that ur getting it anyway (1.6k words)

His shoes knock against the old flooring of the house, wood creaking under rubber soles that slide over the woodgrain. He drags them a bit, lifts his limbs up no more than he strictly has to, and they lead him to the nearest sittable surface.

The couch is old and dusty and has likely gone untouched for months, much like everything else nowadays, so he watches the thin cloud of dust billow off the cushions largely with disinterest. He collapses into the fabric heavily, feels the whole thing scoot back an inch and hit the wall behind him. The sound echoes, carried by lifeless rooms, while he unceremoniously drops his backpack to the floor by his feet.

The breath he lets out is slow and methodical and born of pent up muscles, aimed at the ceiling where he rests his neck against the back of the couch and relaxes every limb one by one. It’s a process he forces himself through, if only to rid the constant ache beneath his skin.

Slow, sweeping footsteps meander around the room in front of him, and Ritsu angles his gaze down from his craned back position to look at his brother. He wanders, like he so often does—seemingly aimless, but there’s something procedural about it that he’s convinced he just hasn’t figured out yet.

Shigeo’s empty eyes crawl along the hearth of the fireplace, explosions of ash sprayed out across the red brick. His head tilts up to trace his attention around the angular lines of the television, hung on the wall and screen grey with dust. He flits back and forth between the roundness of the bricked mantle and the sharp edges of the screen, like he’s taking notes.

Shigeo paws the television. Four lines of muck are cleared. The zombie blinks, paws at it again with dusty, curious fingers. Ritsu watches him make a mess of the television screen in silence, blinking tiredly.

He almost closes his eyes, but he fights against the urge and moves his fingers down his lap to reach for his bag. His middle hooks around the loop at the top and he lugs it up and into his lap, where he unzips it and peers into the shadowy contents.

Ritsu fishes out the water bottles. He finds the one with the messy R scribbled along the cap in sharpie and takes a big swig of it. It’s warm going down, constantly insulated in a bag of old, sweaty clothes. He feels like he can taste the odor in it, but it clears the grain in his throat from stomping all over dirt roads today, so he’s still grateful.

He holds out the one labeled S to Shigeo. “Thirsty?”

Shigeo looks at him from where he’s crouched down to the floor now, inspecting the soot along the hearth. Unfortunately, he sees handprints in the black already, and when his brother reaches a hand out to take it, his palm is covered in soot.

He lets him have his fun and settles his own bottle back in the mess of tangled clothes and rolls of bandages. Ritsu rakes his fingers through their stock with no real purpose—he knows exactly what’s in here, and none of it is useful.

They’d been searching all day; Ritsu doesn’t really know how far they’d walked, but it had to be a lot of miles. In and out of stores, up and down empty houses, weaving between warehouses—they didn’t really stop for a break. Not when Ritsu can hear Shigeo’s stomach from here and he himself has shaking hands. They can’t afford a break.

Nothing, though. Not a single goddamn thing worth taking. A settlement must have come through here long ago and swept the highway. They’re in the countryside, where houses are spaced out acres from each other and there’s entire cow pastures between properties. And yet every house they’d seen and entered provided nothing.

Ritsu stares into the negative space in his bag where there should be supplies. His stomach cramps and if he smells another whiff of that godawful sweaty, bloody sweatshirt he still carries, he’s going to throw up bile.

He leans away from the open pouch, eyes wandering to his brother who draws… something into the soot of the hearth. His water bottle sits on the floor, abandoned and still unscrewed. Ritsu leans forward with great effort and a grunt, leaning over his bag to grab at the top of it.

It takes him two tries to get Shigeo’s attention, and one more for an answer on where the cap is. It’s then placed in his palm, covered in soot and also saliva. Ritsu swallows down the nausea that rolls up his throat and wipes it off with his frankly already disgusting sleeve, and screws it back on.

He leans back again, succumbing to the urge to let his eyes rest, and he listens to the very subtle swipe of his brother’s hands across brick. There’s birds outside, chirping, and even though it’s still very much a common occurrence, Ritsu cannot help but feel nostalgic about it.

If he ignores the awful hum of silence, and the distinct lack of an electric thrum throughout the walls, and the fact that this is a stranger’s couch and not his, he can almost imagine normalcy. He can almost say this feels like those quiet moments after school, when he settles on the couch and scrolls through his phone in a house that only holds him and his brother because their parents simply aren’t home yet.

He can almost hear the creak of wood from Shigeo walking around his room upstairs. He can almost tap his fingers on the couch cushions to the pattern of his brother making his way down the steps. He can almost hear the fridge opening, and the sound of milk being poured into glass.

Almost. But Ritsu listens to sharp silence instead, and he tries not to think too hard.

He drifts for a while, feels himself truly sink into the couch and let the cushions claim him, and he thinks about nothings because if he doesn’t, then he’ll lose it. He carefully sifts through the nothingness of his mind, through the passing thoughts that have no bearing, and he focuses on that, on the lack of substance. His head is too full of things that have too much substance.

He misses boredom. He tells himself he misses boredom—the complete insubstantiality of it—because if he lets himself think of what he really misses, it’ll drive him insane.

The cushions move, and Ritsu peels his eyes open and lets himself get pulled from liminal mindspace. The cotton in his head recedes, and he blinks, and then he’s swiveling his head to look at his brother who sits in the cushion right next to him.

His hands and the cuffs of his hoodie are smothered in black. Shigeo sits hunched, gaze still wandering even when there’s not much decoration in this house to look at. He studies the off-white walls, the chips in the paint, the holes drilled in where there maybe used to be photos hung.

Ritsu gazes at him quietly, chest instinctively rising and falling to match his brother’s rhythm. He watches the expansion there, under his hoodie, in the subtlety of the folds and the way they warp over the movement. It’s slightly quicker than what he’s used to, but Ritsu knows his brother’s heart rate is much slower. He’s felt it before. He’s listened to it before, with his ear against a chest.

Ritsu’s attention moves to his eyes, and the heavy bags underneath them, and the paleness of his pupils and the ghostlight of him underneath that. He stares into them, looks for stray, familiar thoughts that might enter his head. Looks for old memories that might shine through in the form of recognition when he sees furniture layouts, and candy wrappers, and ads for soda.

Ritsu looks for it all the time, that glint of familiarity. And he finds it, sometimes. And really, he thinks that’s keeping him going more than food ever will.

Shigeo turns his head, and looks at him. Sometimes, when his brother looks at him, there’s not much there. No substance, no anything. And Ritsu finds it a bit evil that he craves silence in his own head, and yet noise in Shigeo’s, and often times it is the other way around.

His brother looks at him now, though, with that comforting recognition. That growth of the pupils, that softening of the hard edges of his face where unknown stressors have gotten to him. Ritsu wonders what zombies get stressed out. He figures it’s the same deal with humans, considering they’re largely alike.

Ritsu wonders if Shigeo knows he’s sick. He wishes he could ask him. He wishes for a lot of things. Silence in his own head is one of them.

Ritsu swivels his head away and stares at the ceiling, if only to force the thoughts to pause. He studies the popcorn ridges above them, traces the peaks with his gaze. It calms him, gives him something to focus on. He looks for patterns in the shadows they make.

Shigeo shifts next to him. And then he shimmies down, settles into the cushions, and plops his head right down on Ritsu’s shoulder.

Static roars in his mind and his heart stammers. Ritsu swallows the lump in his throat but that just makes it bigger, so he clamps his mouth shut and breathes carefully through his nose.

The tears cut through the grime on his face. He plops his own head down against his brother’s, and lives in the noise.

[omg-i-think-i-like-you]

"Love your tuches," Eddie said when Steve got up to get a soda from the fridge.

"Gosh, that tuches of yours," Eddie whispered when Steve sat on top of his lap.

"The most beautiful tuches on earth," Eddie declared when Steve left his trailer to go to work.

It's been happening for a while, Eddie using this unfamiliar word to compliment him, he thinks? Steve was wondering about it during his solo shift on Saturday afternoon. Robin was away with her family and the store was empty and quiet.

"Hello to the greatest tuches owner in Hawkins!" Eddie announced, walking loudly into Family Video.

"Hi, Eddie," Steve smiled. Eddie leaned across the front desk to plant a quick peck on Steve's lips, and then pulled himself over it and landed between Steve's arms, stumbling a little.

"How are you hanging, abandoned by your other half?" Eddie asked, sat on the staff's chair and started swaying from left to right.

"She didn't abandon me," Steve stopped Eddie's repetitive motion and placed himself between his legs, "and I'm fine, thanks." He pushed Eddie's hair behind his ear and stroked his cheek softly.

"Of course you are, now that I'm here," Eddie said with a teasing smile, Steve rolled his eyes and squeezed Eddie's cheeks, and then kissed him on his nose. Eddie moved his face up to meet Steve's lips when the doorbell rang. Steve immediately pulled back and turned towards the door. It was Dustin.

"Steve, Eddie! Great to see you both," he greeted and leaned on the counter. Steve and Eddie both rolled their eyes, and Steve sat back in Eddie's lap.

"What do you want, Henderson?" Steve asked impatiently, his hands crossed on his chest.

"I have to rent a movie," he said, his eyes wide and begging.

"Okay..? That's the point of this store. What movie do you want?" Steve got up and went out from behind the desk towards Dustin, whose eyes lit up. Steve knew that look.

"No." He said firmly.

"Please?" Dustin put his hands together and started going down, Eddie chuckled.

"You two are adorable," he said and grabbed his jacket, "but I'm not staying for this fight, tell me who won, Stevie." He kissed Steve on the cheek on his way out and disappeared into his van.

Dustin was on his knees now. "Please??" Steve shook his head, and Dustin stood up again. "Steve, come on! you know Suzie is coming and I promised her we'll watch a movie!"

Steve blew air out of his nose, and started tapping his foot, "Yes, I know she's coming, you can take any other movie! I legally can't rent you anything from that section. Choose something else."

"But Steve! I told her my friends work at the video store and can give me any movie I want!" He stomped his feet, "Robin would've let me." He crossed his arms, upset.

"No she wouldn't?? Robin is a lot more strict than me," Steve threw his hands, "Have you ever spoken to her?? She's like a police offic- Wait." Steve stopped and fixed his hair, trying to think. "Robin isn't here... Aha!" He exclaimed, and ran back behind the counter, "I have an idea, but you have to keep it between us two, Dustin, do you promise??"

Dustin giggled and put his hand on his chest, "I swear, no one will know of this encounter."

Steve rolled his eyes again, only pretending not to like Dustin's endearing dramatisation of mundane situations, something that always reminds him of his boyfriend.

"Listen, I'm gonna make a deal with you," Steve opened, leaning towards Dustin and lowering his voice, "I will let you rent any movie you want, only!" He emphasized, "If you never tell Robin," he counted on his fingers, "and if you help me solve a mystery."

Dustin's smile grew, "Deal! already promised I won't tell anyone, and you know I love mysteries," he clapped and ran behind the counter before Steve could stop him, "what are we solving?"

"Okay," Steve put his palms together and pointed towards Dustin, who placed himself comfortably on the chair, "So Eddie's been using that word recently, and I have to figure out what it means," He said, and started pacing around.

"Okay? what's the word?" Dustin asked, curious.

"That's the thing, I've been trying to pronounce it but I can't make that sound... I think he uses it as a compliment? maybe it's from your fantasy game?" He wondered out loud, avoiding Dustin's question.

"Steve, if you don't tell me the word I won't be able to answer all your great questions," Dustin said and received a warning look for Steve, causing him to raise his hands, like proving his innocence.

Steve pinched his nose bridge, "I think it's like... too... toohes?" He eventually said, and sighed in frustration, "That's not what it sounds like!" He stomped.

Dustin started laughing, "Say that again!" Steve just looked at him, his eyes burning, and he stopped laughing at once. "Never heard it in my life," Dustin said, shrugging, "Definitely not from DnD, or anything I know Eddie's interested in. maybe it's from a song?"

"No..." Steve shook his head, "I heard his metal enough and I never heard that word before he randomly started using it..." Steve buried his face in his hands, "So you have no idea?" He peeked through his fingers.

"Nope," Dustin said and jumped off the chair, "Now give me that movie."

Steve stood there, defeated, while Dustin picked his movie. He rented it on his own name and Dustin had to rip it out of Steve's hands. He almost fell when he succeeded pulling it.

"Why aren't you asking Robin?" Dustin asked then, hugging the VHS like his life depended on it, "She always brags about how her ears are geniuses or something, I bet she'd know."

Steve looked at him, and almost jumped across the counter to strangle him. "Go away! before I take that tape and burn it." He couldn't believe he didn't think of it himself. He watched Dustin shove the tape in his bag, run out of the store onto his bike, and disappear into the sunset.

---

"Robin!" Steve barged into the Buckley's house approximately 24 hours after Dustin left Family Video. Robin was spread on the couch and stared at the TV, letting the game show run while she was dozing off after a nice and heavy lunch. She jumped when she heard Steve, her heart pounding.

"Steve?! what the fuck, you scared me," she stood up with her hand on her chest.

"Sorry, listen, I really need your ears- I mean help," Steve smiled and walked closer to her, robin's curiosity was awakened.

"My ears, you say?" She raised an eyebrow, "What is this about?"

Steve gestured with his head towards the stairs and started walking upstairs, Robin behind him, "What is this about, dingus??"

Steve entered Robin's bedroom and crashed on the bed, Robin stood above him, "What's wrong with you today? you're acting weird."

"Robbie," Steve raised himself, resting on his elbows, "it's Eddie..." He opened, releasing a sigh. Robin sat next to him.

"What happened?" she asked softly, "Did you fight?"

"What??" Steve chuckled, "Of course not! You'd know if we did. We're madly in love, don't worry," he said with dreamy eyes and Robin pretended to barf, Steve flicked her calf. "It's just... He's been saying that word, I think it's a compliment, and I'm trying to find out what it means, and Henderson," he said through clenched teeth, "after being absolutely no help, suggested I'd ask you, since you have genius ears, or something." He smiled sweetly and Robin giggled.

"I'm flattered, even though you didn't come straight to me," she hit his shoulder, "and I'd love to help, but why don't you just ask him?"

Steve gasped dramatically, "and give him the upper hand?? Absolutely not. I will figure it out. He can't win here."

robin squinted at him, "You do realise it's ridiculous, right?"

"Don't care," Steve sealed his lips and looked away, with a hurt ego and too much pride.

"Gosh, fine!" Robin swallowed another giggle, "I'll help you, what's that word?"

Steve sat up, placing himself in front of robin and held her knees, "Okay, it's definitely in a different language, I can't fully pronounce it but I'll try, okay? And don't laugh," he raised a warning finger, "it's like, toohes? toohhes?" He tried to emphasize the middle sound, Robin had to try really hard not to laugh, "The H sound sounds more like-" He then proceeded to make a sound like he was violently clearing his throat and Robin lost it, bursting into uncontrollable laughter and ran away from Steve's flying hands.

"Please! you need to hear yourself!", she squealed and copied him, making throat-cleaning sounds back at him, Steve pouted.

"You promised you'll help!" He threw a pillow at her and she dodged it, and then sat back next to him, calming down.

"I will, you diva," she smiled, "that terrible sound," she opened and Steve huffed, "sounds like something European, like Dutch, or German," she said, her mind running, "yeah, maybe even Russian?" she asked and they both had chills running down both of their spines, "Do you know if Eddie speaks any of those languages?" She asked and Steve shook his head, "Nope, not that he told me... This is so frustrating!" He dropped his head on her shoulder and sighed, she caressed his head, running her fingers through his hair, "Hey, we'll figure it out," She laid her cheek on his head, "Why don't you ask Wayne? He'd probably know if Eddie speaks more languages."

Steve looked up, a smile growing on his face, "Oh, Robbie," he planted a wet kiss on her cheek, "You really are a genius."

Robin smiled back and wiped her cheek, "I know. Wanna drink something?" She stood up, "Also, you really didn't think of it yourself?"

Steve shot himself off the bed and started chasing her downstairs, his hands stretched forward, but she was too fast, running away in rolling laughter.

---

Steve knocked on the trailer's door three times, and then heard heavy steps coming towards him. Wayne opened, and his eyes seemed confused.

"Steve? good to see you, son," He smiled, "Eddie isn't here, he's with his band."

"Oh, I know," Steve smiled back, "I wanted to talk to you, actually, may I?" He pointed inside the trailer.

"Sure, come in," Wayne moved and let Steve walk into the trailer, "Beer?" Steve nodded and sat on the small couch, Wayne sat next to him a few seconds later with two opened, cold beers in his hands, and gave one to Steve.

"So, what did you want to talk about?" Wayne asked and sipped from his beer, and Steve did the same, postponing the, in his opinion, silly question.

"Well," he finally opened, "Does Eddie speak... another language?" He asked carefully.

Wayne lowered his beer bottle, "Why are you asking?"

"Um, he's been saying a word recently, and after some investigation I found out it's probably in a European language, but I can't tell which one..." He fixed his hair nervously and took another sip of his beer.

"Look," Wayne smiled, "I can assure you he isn't fluent in any language other than English, but the boy sure has a wild imagination and a lot of curiosity, so he knows several words in several languages," He released a short laugh, "What's the word he says?"

Steve blushed, "Please don't make me say it," he said, his voice low, "I can't pronounce it... It has that sound in the middle," and did the throat-cleaning sound again, this time softly and quietly. Wayne laughed again.

"Oh, yeah, I know what you're talking about," He put his hand on Steve's shoulder, "You know that Eddie's mother was Jewish, right?"

Steve's eyebrows jumped up, "No, I didn't actually," He placed his beer on the small table.

"Yeah," Wayne smiled, "She was, and there were many Yiddish words she used when Eddie was little, I guess some stuck with him. I hear him going around making those unfamiliar noises, it's Yiddish."

Steve's tapped his fingers on his knees, "Yiddish, you say?" His eyes scanned the room, "and you know the meaning of that word?" He asked carefully.

"Probably not, son," He took off his hand and put his beer next to Steve's, "Eddie never agreed to translate the words to me, I think it's funny to him that he has a secret language he can use behind my back," He chuckled, "I let go of it pretty quickly, it's probably all curse words."

"Well, I hope this one isn't," Steve's smile was bitter, "I truly think it's a compliment, I just don't know what kind of compliment," He laughed shortly and got up, "Thank you, Wayne." He shook his hand and walked towards the trailer's door.

"Sure son, anytime," He smiled and followed Steve, "What are you gonna do now?"

Steve stood in front of the open door, "Don't know," he shrugged, "find a Yiddish-English dictionary?"

Wayne barked in laughter, "Doubt you'll find that in the Hawkins public library," He stopped for a second, thinking, "You know Joyce Byers?"

Steve froze in place, "Yeah..?"

"She's Jewish too, I bet she'll know," He said with certainty.

"She is??" Steve ran his fingers through his hair, "How didn't I know that? How do you know that?"

Wayne smiled softly, "Was with her in school, she was Joyce Horowitz. Trust me, she has the answer for you."

Steve nodded and shook Wayne's hand again, "Thank you!" he ran to his car, "Thank you!" He waved through the window as he drove off, leaving Wayne shaking his head in a soft laugh.

"Really couldn't think of anyone more fitting for Ed," He said to himself and backed into the trailer, shutting the door behind him.

---

Steve knocked quickly on the Byers' door the next morning, Jonathan opened.

"Steve?" He looked behind him, "What are you doing here?"

"Hi, Jonathan," he smiled politely, "Great to see you. Is your mom home?"

Jonathan was a lot more confused now, "Yeah, she is... Mom!" He yelled into the house and let Steve in, closing the door behind him.

"Jonathan, I can hear perfectly without you yelling," She entered the kitchen, "Steve! Hi sweetheart!" she hugged him tightly and took a step back, examining his face, "You look good." She determined, "Do you want something to eat? drink?" He didn't have time to answer and she pulled a cake out of the oven. It smelled like cinnamon. Before he noticed he had a piece in his hand. "Are you here to visit Jonathan?"

Steve shook his head while taking a bite, "This is so good, Joyce, wow," He took another one, "I'm actually here to see you," he said with his mouth full.

"Oh, okay," she smiled, "do you need anything?"

Steve nodded and finished his cake, "This is amazing, what is that?" He pointed at the cake.

"It's my Bubbe's cinnamon cake, felt like making it," she shrugged, "Glad you like it, dear," she smiled again, "So, what do you need?"

Steve sat on one of the kitchen chairs and sighed, looking around to make sure they were alone, Joyce noticed his distress and sat next to him, putting a hand on his leg, "Hey, it's okay, whatever it is, you know you can talk to me," Her eyes were warm and Steve felt like he might cry.

"Um," he opened, "Do you... Do you speak Yiddish?" He managed to ask, his voice quiet and unsure, Joyce's smile grew.

"Can't say I speak," she air-quoted the word, "But I do know a few words. Why are you asking?"

"Well," he laughed softly, relieved to have found the person who might know the answer, "Eddie's been saying that word, and I was going around trying to figure out what it means, and Wayne told me it's in Yiddish. He didn't know what it means, but he told me you might..." His eyes were hopeful and Joyce was beaming.

"Aw, sweet Wayne, I bet he remembers me as Horowitz a lot more than Byers," She reminisced, "He's probably right, what's the word?"

Steve's tongue froze. He knew this is it, this is the moment he'll get the answer, the secret is about to be revealed, he just needs to pronounce it right. He just has to say it correctly and Joyce will unveil the truth, so why can't his mouth move?

"I..." he stuttered, "I can't pronounce it..."

Joyce rubbed his hand, "It's okay, sweetheart, say it, I'll understand. It's America, not Poland, I don't expect you to get all the sounds right." She smiled warmly and Steve calmed down.

"It's... it's like, tuhhes?" He said, really trying to express the sound right, and Joyce started laughing so hard, Steve wanted the ground to open up and swallow him alive.

"Oh, Steve!" she wiped her tears, "In what way was he using it?"

"I don't even know!" He threw his hands, blush covering his cheeks, "I couldn't find any context." He said, frustrated, "What does it mean?"

Joyce's eyes sparkled, "Well, the word is tuches, right? Is that the way he says it?" Steve nodded frantically, finally hearing the word from someone who wasn't Eddie was refreshing and surprising.

"Tuches, Steve, is the Yiddish word for," she hid the side of her mouth and lowered her voice, "Ass."

Steve sat there quietly, his eyes as wide as plates, running in his head all the times Eddie said the word and blush was climbing up his neck, cheeks and earlobes again.

"What??!" he eventually succeeded saying, "You wanna tell me that Eddie has been talking about my butt this whole time??"

Joyce nodded, "And I think he enjoyed it, how often has he been using it?"

"Oh, a lot." Steve assured and got up quickly. "Too much." He walked fast towards the door, "Thank you, Joyce! for everything!"

"Sure! come over more dear!" She shouted after him and smiled to herself.

"Mom? What was that about?" Jonathan entered the kitchen and took a piece of cake.

"Oh, nothing." She waved her hands, "Did you know Eddie Munson is Jewish? We should invite him over for Shabbos."

---

Steve has been spending the past week mastering the impossible sound. He's been saying it over and over again to himself, driving Robin nuts during their shifts. It was entertaining, sure, and she was glad he solved his mystery, but it was annoyingly endless. He did stop immediately every time Eddie walked in, and didn't react every time Eddie came up with a new sentence to weave in his tuches. He was waiting for the perfect opportunity, and it was just about to come.

It was a hot day, and Steve and Eddie were chilling inside the house. Steve lay on the couch and Eddie was right on top of him, planting small pecks all over Steve's face.

"Hey," Steve said after Eddie broke away from his lips, "Wanna get in the pool?"

Eddie raised himself and looked at Steve, "I don't have a swimsuit here."

"It's fine," Steve started to get up, Eddie slowly slipping off, "We'll swim in our boxers."

Eddie shrugged and let himself spill on the floor, and then got up in a jump and started stripping down, throwing his clothes at the amused Steve who was still sitting on the couch.

"The last to jump is a rotten egg!" Eddie shouted while running outside, Steve heard a big splash and laughed to himself, took off his clothes and joined Eddie in the pool.

"Hi Stevie," Eddie clung onto him and kissed him wetly, his hair was dragged down and he looked like a wet poodle, Steve laughed.

"Hi Eddie, love your hair," he smiled with a teasing look, Eddie pushed him away, dove into the pool and swam right underneath Steve, kicking him on his way up, and then flicked his hair and sprayed water all over.

"How about now?" He did a little toss and fell back into the water, Steve shook his head and pulled Eddie up.

"You're lucky I'm a trained lifeguard," He said, holding him tight.

"I sure am, I would've drowned if you weren't here," He smiled sweetly and kissed Steve again.

"You really would've, maybe you should get a time-out," Steve said with a serious voice, "You've been swimming very dangerously, go get us some sodas." He ordered and Eddie chuckled and pulled himself out of the pool, "Yes Sir!" He saluted.

Steve watched him walking away, dripping water, and then shouted, "Nice tuches, you got there!"

Eddie froze in place, small puddles forming around him, he turned around slowly. "What did you just say..?"

Steve got out of the pool and sat on the edge, his body twisted towards Eddie, who still hasn't moved, "I said you have a nice tuches, you disagree?"

"I- what??! You know what this word means??" he now rushed towards Steve and stood over him, hiding him from the sun, "For how long??"

Steve stood up now, "Uh, a week or so," He smiled and held Eddie's buttcheeks, pulling him closer, "I like that word, tuches," He kissed Eddie's nose, "Practiced the sound a lot for you."

Eddie was speechless, breathless, he let Steve hold him there until he succeeded saying, "How..?"

Steve's smile was cheeky, "Well, some investigations, talked to your uncle, but Joyce was the one who gave it away, did you know she's Jewish?" Eddie shook his head, "Yeah, didn't know either, Wayne told me. I also didn't know you are," Eddie raised an eyebrow, "Not that it matters, just nice to know some more things about you." He smiled and pulled Eddie even closer, into a hug.

"If you were so curious what it means," Eddie broke the hug after a few seconds, "Why didn't you just ask me?" Steve's look revealed everything, "Don't tell me you were too proud to admit you don't know!" Eddie laughed and squeezed Steve's cheeks, kissing him shortly on his lips. "I'm glad you know now, and just so you know, I always meant it in the best way possible. I love your juicy tuches." he grabbed Steve's ass with his free hand and Steve giggled.

"Do you know any more cool words in Yiddish?" Steve asked curiously, and Eddie's eyes lit.

"Oh sweetheart, we're gonna have fun today," Eddie said confidently and jumped back into the pool, leaving Steve confused all over again.

[atlasdoe]

i've been watching bojack horsemen for the first time and i have the urge to write a snape centric fic inspired by the show