#like i feel so much pride whenever someone asks me what inspired them and i can't really point to anything

[barklikeagod]

hands behind my back thinking about my ocs

[featherandferns]

fascinating new thing : where are they now?

jj maybank x shy!kook!reader | see these inbox messages for points of inspiration: 1 2 3

word count: 2k.

read fascinating new thing | Thank you so so much for 1000 followers!!! Since starting this blog in May of 2023, I have written so many characters and storylines. I get so many lovely anon messages telling me about their favourite universes and wondering what happens next after my fics have ended. So, I thought to celebrate 1000 followers, I’d indulge. Here’s the (current) where are they now for all of my fics so far…

It’s times like these - standing on an obnoxiously over-sized stage, staring out at more people than you can count who have been screaming your name and your lyrics for the past two hours - when your life feels particularly surreal. You wonder if you’ll ever get used to the feeling of hearing your songs on the radio, or seeing someone break down in tears in the front row of your gig, or scrolling through Twitter and Instagram to find fan-edits galore. Maybe it would be the same as the anxiety, which shrunk just the smallest amount with every show.

Despite your crippling social skills, you never feared the stage. It was the only place where you felt truly comfortable in yourself. You were sure that it helped having Pansy by your side, even now. Whenever you feel yourself slipping away, you’d grapple at the microphone with one hand as if it were a buoy and you were floating helplessly in the middle of the sea, and then you’d look to Pansy. Her wildness from youth hasn't disappeared despite the years and fame. She grins at you just the same as always. Celebrates every concert and every milestone with the same fever that she did when you first played at the Wreck. 

As you neared your twenty-second birthday, you had three official albums released into the world. The latest had made the Billboard charts. Whilst the lyrics flourished, and the production improved, and the vocality developed, one thing stayed the same: JJ was almost always at the forefront of your mind. 

The fans were almost as obsessed with JJ as you. You were gobsmacked the first time you saw some ‘stalker pics’ of the two of you on a date. Whenever he’d make it to one of your shows (which he always tried to do), the fans would have eagle vision and try to spot him. Gauge his reactions and document his pride. And, boy, was he proud. He showed you off like a diamond ring; boasted about you at work and at the surf break. Brought you up in any and all conversations (at least according to the Pogues). One video in particular went viral. Some paparazzi guy had caught him in the street when he was running errands in Kildare. It still felt bizarre to have paparazzi chasing you and your loved ones down. They asked him what he thought of the songs on your latest album. In the video, JJ pushed his sunglasses up onto his head, smirking. They’re all about me, man: what’s not to like about it.  

After seeing the overwhelming positive reaction to you and your boyfriend, you’d started to acknowledge him openly at shows. It wasn’t that you hadn’t taken notice of him before. He was always there - calming you down before and grounding you after - and you always sought him out. Couldn’t settle until you knew where he was. But now, instead of a fleeting glance and a shy smile, you would point him out. Slyly giving a nod to him when announcing the next song: this one’s about a certain someone - you know who you are. The fans ate it up but more importantly, JJ loved it. 

And whilst having thousands of random strangers screaming your songs at you was an insurmountable feeling that you couldn’t ever place into words, it would never top the experience of singing your songs to JJ. He heard them first. Every single one. 

“Come on then,” JJ says, flopping beside you on the sofa. Despite all the money you’d garnered, the two of you stayed in the Cut on Kildare. You always preferred it over Figure Eight. “Let’s hear it.”

“It’s not done yet,” you tell him as you tune your acoustic guitar. 

JJ stuffs another one of your home baked cookies into his mouth with a roll of his eyes. “Like I’d care.”

You smile bashfully at that. You sometimes wondered if JJ was as happy for you as he seemed to be. The fame and money and attention on you hadn’t changed you - at least you didn’t think it had - but it had changed the world around you. That was out of your control. What people said about you, about him, about your relationship and your life together - you didn’t have any control over that. Your schedule became busy with studio sessions and meetings and practice and touring. Hell, there were already musings of doing a tour in Europe next year. You imagined it to be a lot for JJ; would be enough to build resentment in Mother Teresa. But he begged to hear your songs. Tagged along to rehearsals and snuck into the studio. Made it to as many concerts as his job allowed. 

Besides, it wasn’t like JJ was without fame. Himself and the Pogues had found El Do-freaking-rado whilst you and The Wallflowers had been gaining traction. Now he had his dream surf shop which kept him occupied. The financial stability that your combined enterprises allowed meant life was easy to enjoy. And enjoy it, you did. 

You take a tentative strum of the guitar strings, clearing your throat and mind. Glancing down to watch your fingers take placement for the first chord, you begin to play the melody. You could feel JJ’s gaze on you, steady and unwavering, and despite your long-standing relationship, it still made you feel as giddy as the first night at The Wreck. 

“We could leave the Christmas lights up ‘til January…”

You begin to sing. Hesitant at first (as if you’d never played for him before), then confident as the song went on. The lyrics which were still in the scaffolding stages were replaced with half-formed words in melodic hums. You could see JJ’s foot tapping along to the beat in your peripheral vision and it made you smile, serene and sweet, safe in the bubble the two of you had created in the two bedroomed house by the marsh. 

“Can I go where you go? Can we always be this close? Forever and ever. Take me out and take me home.”

Looking up at him, you find his smile mirrors yours. The emotion in his eyes is saved only for you. You get his wildness, his mood swings, his recklessness, his devotion and his love. You get all of him. 

“You’re my, my, my, my…Lover.”

JJ chuckles at that, clearly flustered. Again, after all these years, you can’t believe you of all people have that effect on him. You continue the song, giggling as you trip over a chord, lost in his gaze, heart thrumming happily. He plays into some lyrics, twisting the amorous moment into the most magical of lights. 

“You’ll save all your dirtiest jokes me for me.” 

JJ smiles proudly, crossing his heart as if making a promise. You manage the next line out through your laughter. 

“And at every table, I’ll save you a seat. Lover…”

You conclude the song with a final, definitive strum. JJ erupts into applause, whooping and hollering like he was at a Red Sox game or something. You laugh, bashful, and unhook your guitar from around you. 

“Best damn song you’ve ever written!”

“You say that about all the songs,” you reply, brushing off his compliment. Yes, it seems JJ’s so-called lifelong venture of getting you to accept a compliment was still underway. 

“That going on the new album?” JJ asks. He leans forward to the coffee table, passing your half-full glass of wine to you. 

You nod. “We’re working on the track-list now, actually.”

“You gonna sneak that song in there about Kiara and Pansy?”

“I think Pansy would kill me if I didn’t,” you reply back, making JJ laugh. He nods, making a face of ‘yeah, you’re probably right there’ and sips his beer.

Pansy and Kie hooking up didn’t catch anyone by surprise. It was sweet seeing them so loved up. So, you broke your tradition of writing songs purely about JJ for her. In fact, you’d been branching out more and more, writing about other people and other things. Mike and his now ex-girlfriend, and the world’s messiest break-up, were the basis to one of your best selling tracks: We Are Never Getting Back Together. The sudden rise to fame and all the prying eyes and ears that came with it was inspiration to another from the same album: Nothing New. And now Kie and Pansy, with It’s Nice to Have a Friend.  

Carefully leaning your guitar against the sofa, you place your wine down and shuffle to cuddle into JJ’s hold. His fingers leisurely stroke your hairline, teasing at your hair. No matter the money, he wore the same cologne. He’d tried fancier but after you admitted that it didn’t smell like him somehow, he went back to the old, cheap stuff. 

“I’m real proud of you, y’know?” 

“I know,” you mumble, smiling into his t-shirt. 

“And I’m always gonna be here for you, right? Through the good and the bad?”

“Yeah, I know,” you reply, a little worried as to where this was coming from. 

JJ takes in a breath. It sounds almost anxious and tense. Then, he’s shuffling around, digging for something in his back pocket, and you’re left with no choice but to move off him. Sitting back on your haunches, you watch him with furrowed brows. They knit tighter when he lowers himself onto the wooden floorboards. And then all of a sudden, in the cosy, lamp-lit living room of your shared home, you watch the literal man of your childhood dreams reveal a black velvet box. 

He swallows thickly. His fingers shake as he struggles to open the box. Looking up at you, anxiety swimming in his eyes (which were the inspiration to countless songs), JJ gives a mousy smile. He breathes out your name like reading an ancient, honourable scripture. Tears brim your eyes. A hand lifts to your gaping mouth. 

“I have been in love with you from the minute I saw you singing at The Wreck, back when we were sixteen. For whatever God damn reason, you gave me - a broke-ass idiot from the Cut with about two-dollars to my name and a pretty bad reputation - a chance. And you changed my life forever. Honestly, I don’t know what my life would feel like without you. I hope I never do, really, cause you’re everything I’ve ever wanted.  I mean, when you find a girl who writes songs about you, you kinda have to stick around, right?” 

You give a soggy laugh, sniffling and barely nodding. 

JJ grins, chuckling through his nerves. 

“So, I guess…Will you marry me?”

Tongue-tied like always, you struggle to find the words. No, not words. One word. One very important word. So, you nod frantically. And finally, it comes. 

“Yes,” you choke. “Yes! Yes!”

You’re worried you sound a little pushy, tentatively tagging on, “please.”

JJ barks out a laugh. He wipes at his eyes, mumbling about how he wasn’t going to be a sap, and takes the ring from its cushion. You hold out a quivering hand and let him slot it on. 

“Sorry. ‘M kinda clammy,” you mumble. 

JJ sniffs and laughs and nods. “S’fine, baby.”

You admire the ring in all its glory. Despite his El-Dorado success, the ring isn’t over the top. It’s exactly what you dreamed it to be. Beautiful in its simplicity. Understated and classy. You launch yourself at JJ. He catches you with a laugh, somehow keeping his balance, and embraces you like you might float away. God, you feel like you could. Everything in life is so perfect. Your band, your fame, your talent and your partner: it’s just perfect. 

Pressing your lips to his, you can't keep the joyful tears from falling. JJ cradles your face when you break apart, staring deeply into your eyes in a way that would have fifteen-year-old you crippled and crying on the floor. 

“I’ll marry you, JJ Maybank.”

[hippielittlemetalhead]

Never Took The Time (To Forget) part 5: Man Of The Hour

Life is mildly less sucky with depression being more managed (also the mood boost from Renaissance Faires 😁) and my weekends being free again for me to travel to see my person. Still full of dumpster fires but I want to scream about it less. Also, been in feels very similar to the ones that inspired this whole endeavor so... enjoy?

Anywho, here's part 5! Enjoy, my little nerdlings. As always, feel free to yell at/with me in the comments, tags, reblogs and/or ask box. If you see any mistakes feel free to message me about them. 😬👌

Part 1: Hop Fucks Up, Part 2: Pride and Prejudices (Joyce Edition), Part 3: One of Us, Part 4.1: With A Capital P, Part 4.2: Robin's Boy

Steve Harrington was an odd duck. That's what his grandmother always used to say. She would pat his already proudly coiffed hair as he hung off the arm of her rocking chair and tell him as much whenever his parents took him to visit. He would beam at her with his big (reportedly pinchable by every aunt and grandmother in the family) cheeks and quack at her before cracking up at himself like he told the funniest joke and she would let him laugh until he rolled himself off her armchair to the plush carpeted floor. She would laugh and reach way over the arm of her chair to poke his stomach or cheek or nose, sometimes just his little forehead, before leveraging herself up out of her chair and taking herself to the kitchen to boot his mother out of it. Steve Harrington was a certified 'odd duck'.

Steve isn't sure, as he sits in that old rocking chair he had stolen liberated from his parent's house when he moved into his new apartment, when he became whatever he is now. He slowly rocks himself back and forth, the chair creaking a little as his weight shifts. The kids and other teens are chattering on the walkie but it's nothing too pressing, just nonsense and junk food emergencies, Mike cursing out Hop. His ribs hurt and his nose is sore but it doesn't feel like anything is broken. It sucks he knows what broken feels like. It sucks that Robin is kind of mad at him for getting hurt enough Owens pulled rank and had him dropped off at home and assigned someone to be the Party's chauffer for the rest of the day. It sucks that all the kids have their own plans tonight, leaving him to try and find ways to keep himself distracted without their usual insanity. A lot of things just kind of suck these days.

He feels himself smiling and picks up the walkie to confirm that he was alive and resting like ordered when he hears Dustin bickering with Robin about invading his apartment to check on him. That doesn't suck he supposes. He knows Robin and the kids care and he knows that eventually the soldier tasked with driving his hellions around is going to be bullied into driving them to see him, other plans be damned and the thought makes him smile.

The smile drops when he hears what sounds like a soft knock at his door. It's too sharp to be Widow Bea two doors over who leans on her walker and kicks the bottom of his door with her soft leather slippers that belonged to her late husband when she needs him to fix a cabinet or mix batter for whatever pastry she was making that week. And it's not the distinct pattern of Clara Damon from down the hall who will come and tap at his door to ask if he has an extra cup of sugar or spoonful of flour as she bats her eyes at him simpering about how she's making cookies or a pie or a casserole of some kind and inviting him to dinner with her and her folks to have some. He's always got an empty pantry and a surplus of plans when Clara Damon comes knocking. He and Widow Bea have standing poker nights with the other older ladies who all meet at the recreation building.

(It used to be the Harrington house. But his parents decided to sell to prove a point when they up and kicked him out and Owens needed a place to set up a promised recreation space and the gym was already a relief supplies warehouse.)

But the knock at his door isn't either of those. It could be someone else in the building. Could be one of his neighbors who have started to associate Steve Harrington with fighting mutated wild dogs caused by government experiments gone wrong and hauling around kids who seemed to cheat death and holding I.O.Us signed by the U.S army instead of the absent Harrington socialites who are known for swanning into town, flaunting their wealth and making themselves scarce again. The ones who he can sometimes hear whispering about him as he makes his way down the street or through Melvald's.

The knocking comes again, louder this time and firmer. It could be a lot of things and he doesn't want to deal with any of them.

Steve sighs, it could be important. He gets up to answer the door, breathing slow and shallow and letting himself lean on walls as he makes his way to the door. A third round of knocking and he's starting to get tired of it. He takes a slightly painful breathe to call out to whoever is trying to knock down his door to calm themselves down when, "Hey kid, Harrington, you in there?" That stops him a foot from his door.

His ribs hurt and his nose is sore and his leg is throbbing where a demodog got a lucky swipe on the meat of his thigh. But nothing is broken. His leg will be fine in a day or two. He hates that he knows what broken feels like. He hates that he knows what infected feels like. He hates that he knows the stone in his stomach and the clenching vice around his lungs has nothing to do with his injuries. His ribs scream at him when he pulls himself as tall and straight backed as he can, shifting himself so his weight is on his good leg and he can (hopefully) use the hallway wall and doorframe to support himself long enough to talk to Hopper and send him on his way.

He opens the door with a smile and feels himself falter a little when he sees Hopper standing there in a big tan canvas jacket and baseball cap and he's reminded of the times the older man would show up on his parent's doorstep with the same look on his face asking questions Steve didn't always know how to answer.

"Hey, Hopper." His voice is light and smile wide and loose and he just needs to keep this up. "What brings you to my neck of the woods?"

"Heard you got a bit banged up on a patrol?"

Steve shrugs. It takes more than he'd like to hide the pain that causes. "Just a couple bumps and bruises, nothing I can't walk off after a decent night's sleep. Owens is just paranoid these days, ya know."

"Owens huh?"

"Uh, yeah? That's who told you right? Cause I took a couple hits?" Hopper doesn't say anything, just looks at him with something that Steve might have once thought was concern about his potential injuries. He doesn't know why today of all days Hop decided to show up cause he got knocked around a little more than planned but it doesn't bode well when something in his face shifts and he lets out a tired sigh. "Oh, but don't worry!" That came out louder than he intended. "I'm totally fine. Like I said, I just need to walk it off and I'll be back out there in no time. You don't gotta worry about a thing, I've got it handled. Like I said, Owens is just overreacting. Nancy can cover for me tomorrow and then I'll be right back on the roster I promise. You and Mrs. Byers don't have to worry about a thi-"

"Steve. Shut up." He feels his jaw snap shut, the edge of his tongue and inside of his cheek getting caught in his teeth. "I didn't hear it from Owens. The kids told me. Owens knows you're hurt?"

"Uh, ye-yes sir. He's the one who sent me home. Gave the kids a detail to transport them and keep them protected while I'm out of commision. One officer to drive them around and they're being tailed by at least 3 others in case anything happens."

"Four soldiers just to replace you?"

"Oh they're not in that much danger! I'm perfectly capable of watching them usually, its just that Owen's guys are still kinda green even this deep in. Most of them just can't wrap their heads around the whole 'other dimension stuck in 1983' side of things." Hop's eyebrows shoot up under the bill of his cap. "But again, it's fine! I always take point whenever we go into a new sector and those guys are good as backup at least."

"But you're hurt." His eyebrows have come back down but now they're furrowed like he's confused or upset.

"Just a little!" He is not making things better. "I swear Hopper, you guys don't have to worry about a thing. I've got it handled, you don't have to-"

"Jesus fucking Christ, Harrington! Just shut up!" Steve flinches back, stepping further into his doorway as Hopper yells. The older man sighs, a big hand coming up to pinch at the bridge of his nose. He tries not to think of the times Robin and the kids have made fun of him for doing the same, calling it one of his 'dad poses'. "Look, I didn't come to try and give you shit about getting knocked around a little being stupid and playing soldier. I came to- I was going to ask." He sighs and his shoulders slump a little forward and his eyes are focused on the toes of Steve's (very comfortable) bat slippers that had been a gift from Wayne once the kids had told him Steve had been the one to drag Eddie out of the Upside Down. "Did you want to come over for dinner?"

Steve doesn't think he heard him right. "What?"

"Joyce is making some sort of spaghetti casserole-"

"Isn't that just baked spaghetti?"

"And we wanted to have you over. We haven't talked much since I came back. I'd like to change that."

"What?"

"You, dinner, at our place? With me and Joyce and the kids? I think Jonathan is bringing Nancy." Steve flinches and Hop silently curses himself bringing up the ex who cheated on him and the guy she cheated with.

"Why?"

"Uuh... Talking?"

Ah, he had it now. "What did the kids do? Just, lay it on me man, and I'll take care of it. Did they say something? I can have them over tomorrow and talk to them. Was it Mike, it was probably Mike, I'll get him to apologize, just-"

"Goddamn it Harrington I just wanted to ask you over for some dumbass spaghetti casserole thing and a decent conversation. Maybe watch a football game cause no one else in that house seems to enjoy a good game."

Steve isn't sure what's happening. "You want me to come to dinner. To talk?"

Hop sighs again. "Yes, kid. Just. Dinner and talking."

"Uh huh. Right. I'm just- I just need a minute." He tries not to slam the door in the man's face but he's definitely trying to be as fast as possible. He's not sure what the hell is going on but it has to be something because Hopper wouldn't just invite him over. And Joyce Byers definitely wouldn't want him in her house for something as simple as a talk and to watch football. It takes him longer than he'd like to reach the walkie on the little side table by his grandmother's rocking chair. His ribs are screaming at him and his elbow smarts from banging it on the corner as he turned into the sitting room.

"I need some sort of backup at my apartment. Like now please?!" He waits a second before pressing the speaker button again, "Over."

The walkie crackles and he hears an assortment of concerned chatter. "Steve?" Dustin's voice breaks through the general din. "What's the problem? Over."

"I- I'm not sure how to classify it? I've Got Hop at my front door but I think there's something wrong with him? Or something is trying to trick me it's him? Oh shit did I get Vecna'd??"

"Steve," Nancy snaps, shutting up most of the chatter and giving his rising panic something to focus on. "Why do you think it's not Hopper? Or that he's not in control of himself?"

"He- He invited me to the cottage for dinner?"

"What?"

"Yeah just dinner and talking? And that- that's weird right?"

Nancy sighs and Steve hears Hop say something from outside his apartment. He's running out of time. "Why is that so weird Steve?"

"Cause he doesn't like me. And Joyce really doesn't like me." He feels like that's obvious. "They don't like me and they're busy with other stuff. They wouldn't willingly ask me over for dinner and football or some shit so something has to be up."

"Seriously kid?"

He doesn't scream as he drops the walkie-talkie, spinning around to face the voice behind him.

"You're calling an emergency cause I invited you to dinner?"

Again, he feels like this is obvious. "Yes. I don't know what happened but we're going to fix it Hop, I promise. Or, like, if you're something controlling Hop or wearing his face or some shit I will figure it out and I will find the most painful way to kill you."

Hop runs a hand down his face again, he's going to have so many wrinkles after this. "Fucking Christ, kid. Is it so crazy that we wanted to try and get to know you? Make sure you're fed and taking care of yourself since apparently Owens isn't making sure you're alright?!"

What the fuck?

"Yes!" That seems to make Hop take a step back. "I tried for years to try and get the slightest acknowledgement from you! I've spent the last year taking care of the kids and monitoring the gates and fighting Powell and Owens every time they decide to try something stupid and almost get their men killed cause I realized you never meant it!" God he can hear his voice breaking and feel the tears starting to roll down his face. "You never meant it. But you meant it for El and Will and fuck, even Jonathan. And they deserved that. They needed you and you couldn't be there if you and Joyce were fighting with Owens and-" He can't hold back the sob that rips out from deep in his chest. "And I don't- I can't- I just-"

"Hey, hey kid. I need you to breath for me. Okay? Can you just let it out in one push and take a deep breathe in."

There's a large, warm hand rubbing up and down his back. His running nose is throbbing, his sore ribs are probably cracked now from how tightly he's folded in on himself and his injured leg feels wet like he pulled the stitches when he dropped to his knees on the threadbare rug. There's a deep rumbling voice talking to him, telling him how to breathe and asking him to sit up, let go of the walkie he can hear crackling as people call his name and ask Hopper what's going on. It's all just too much.

Why?

"What was that, kid?" Oh. He didn't mean to say that out loud.

"Why?"

"I fucked up. I'm trying this thing called owning up to my mistakes." Steve lets out a wet laugh that turns into a pained groan when it shakes his ribs. "Come on, let's get you up here." He tries not to cry out when Hop lifts him up from under his armpits, pulling at his ribs, but he knows he lets out a sharp whimper. "You fuck up your ribs?"

"What do you think?"

"Yeah, dumb question." Hop chuckles self-deprecatingly. "Look, let's get your ribs wrapped and we'll get you down to the hospital to get checked out an-"

"No. No hospital. Can't do 'em."

"Kid you need to get looked at and maybe some pain meds and antibiotics while you heal up."

"No fucking drugs." Steve practically growls, his teeth clenched and eyes burning as he stares up at Hop. "I'll take your fucking antibiotics but I can take a couple of ibuprofen and call it a day."

"A couple of- What the fuck, kid? You can barely walk and you're telling me you're not in serious pain?"

"I've had worse."

"Bullshit." The kid winces and the look on his face closes off. "Stop trying to be a hero and just admit you need help." Steve rolls his eyes.

"I'm fine, Hop. I've walked off worse."

"Again, I call bullshit."

"You know how thorough our Russian friends could be."

"What?"

Steve shrugs, an angry grimace on his face. "Once you live through Russian military questioning and hiking through Upside Down Hawkins, most everything after that's a piece of cake."

"Jesus Christ-"

"I don't think saying his name is gonna make him listen to ya now."

"Ya ain't cute, kid."

Steve gives him the same smile he always did whenever Hop crashed one of his 'King Steve' parties. "I'm adorable." He chuckles at himself and Hop finds himself laughing along at the kid's attitude. "What do you want, Hopper?" Steve's voice is quiet. It wavers in a way that tells him the kid is sad and hesitant and tired and Hopper can feel something niggling at the back of his mind. "You come over out of the blue asking me to dinner with your family like that's something we do. What the fuck man? What are you trying to do?"

"Like I said kid: I realized fucked up. Bad. And I'm trying to fix it."

"That's it?"

"Yeah. Yeah it is."

Steve leans back, the rocking chair leaning farther back than Hop feels comfortable with considering the kid's injuries but he manages to not rock back so far he falls. "Alright then. So what do you need?"

Hop can't follow this kid at all and he's not sure when that happened. If it's always been like that. "What are you talking about kid? You're the one that's all beat up." His mind goes back to swollen eyes and bruised knuckles covered in a rainbow of haphazardly placed bandages being fussed over by a group of dirty but uninjured kids. Bloody sailor uniforms rounding up rowdy kids without a mark on them despite obvious injuries and a slight limp and what might be bruised ribs. Bandages being removed to expose red raised around a strong neck that looks like someone took barbed wire to it and bulky bandages poking out from beneath stolen shirts. "What are you talking about what I need?"

Steve lolls his head to look at Hopper. For the first time all evening his eyes are trained on the older man unflinching and not anxiously darting away. His smile is more a resigned grimace. "What do you need to get Robin -and I'm guessing the kids- off your back?"

"It's not just because of them."

"But it is because of them."

"I want to make this right."

"It's not yours to fix, Hop. I've made peace with that. Thought I'd made that clear to the rest of them."

"I thought the kids didn't know."

"Not about you being my emergency contact and like, in charge of making big medical decisions if they couldn't get a hold of my parents. But that you'd stop by the house to make sure I hadn't like drowned washing my hair after I took a beating. That I put more stock in that than I should have."

"You were right to put stock in that stuff Steve. Fuck, if I knew anyone else in that situation I'd assume they'd basically adopted you. It makes sense."

Steve shrugs, wincing less this time. "That's life, can't fix it now."

"Will you let me try?"

"I mean. I'm giving you a get-out-of-jail-free card here man."

"And I'm not taking it."

"Well. It's there, whenever you decide to take it."

"Thanks but no thanks, kid."

"Hey, your choice Hop. Ever get tired of the boardwalk just say the word and it's yours. Do not pass 'Go!'. Do not collect $200."

"Monopoly, really?"

"My head may have gotten a knock too. Not a concussion but I'm a little... swimmy."

"Swimmy?"

"Uhm-hmm"

Hop chuckles, "You're an odd duck, kid, you know that? An odd, pain in my ass, duck."

Steve feels his face splitting in a wide smile that pulls at a small cut on his lip and lets his head fall back, his body finally starting to come down from the adrenaline rush that has been this entire interaction.

"Quack quack."

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[goodwitchhour]

hey omg i saw you were writing for stephen nedoroscik and i need some imagines pookie!!!!

a shot of espresso •°. *࿐ stephen nedoroscik

requested: yes / no

summary: when asked about his relationship status during an interview, Stephen becomes eager to talk all about you

cw: fluff! a lil teeny tiny bit angsty at the start & I mean teeny tiny. stephen makes 2 sex jokes to reader bc it’s funny & I’m a firm believer that he makes them.

word count: 975

notes: yes I did take inspiration from andrew garfield.. what about it?! thank you guys for your requests!!! I promise I’m getting through them!!!! I love yall and as always, I’m in no way trying to disrespect Stephen or his relationship, this is purely fictional fun!!

fem!reader x stephen nedoroscik ♡

Stephen has always been a loud and proud boyfriend.

He’s never shied away from talking about you to his friends and family, gushing over how much he loves you and what a truly awesome person he thinks you are. Whether it's a casual get-together or a family reunion, his affection and admiration for you are always at the forefront.

Yet, as you lean against a plain wall in one of the many crammed rooms in the Olympic village, filled with a TV crew and cameras and boom mics, there’s a waver of confidence in you as you sit on the sidelines, watching Stephen take part in one of the many interviews of the day. You hear the interviewer ask him about his relationship status, and your heart skips a beat.

For a second, just a second, a thought crosses your mind. What if he doesn’t bring you up? What if he ignores the question or tries to change the subject? You understand that this is the brightest the spotlight has ever been on Stephen, and that he is entitled to as much privacy as he can get. But, and trying not to sound too narcissistic, he’s always loved talking about you. It's one of the things you adore about him, his unabashed pride and love for you.

So yeah, for a second, there’s a moment of doubt about whether he’ll divert into some other topic, trying to keep the conversation about the thing they’re all actually there for. Your mind races through the possible scenarios, each one a bit more anxiety-inducing than the last. But then, like how it often happens, that big smile of his that always melts your heart pops up, and he looks over at you for a second, catching your eye. His eyes twinkle with that familiar warmth and reassurance, and your worries immediately begin to dissipate.

“I’m uh, taken, actually,” he speaks, looking back to the interviewer in front of him. “I’ve been with my girlfriend for a while now.”

“Oh, how sweet!” The woman gushes, a half-genuine smile sweeping across her face. “And is she supportive of your career? I mean, I’m assuming she’s come to support you at the Olympics, right?!”

Stephen giggles lightly, which makes you smile, and he nods. “Oh yeah, she’s super supportive! I’ve got my own little cheerleader over here,” he laughs for a second. “No, I mean I don’t think I would’ve bounced back in a lot of the ways I have without her.”

The interviewer cocks her head slightly, and you can tell immediately that she’s going to take a jab at that. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean she’s so enthusiastic about what I do and is so energetic that it’s kinda hard to sulk around and feel sorry for myself when I mess up because she’s just ready to help me try again. It’s like I’m taking a shot of espresso whenever she’s around.” He laughs once more, this time looking over at you which immediately makes your cheeks heat up.

You feel a nudge then and you break eye contact, glancing to your right to see Brody looking at you with the cliché ‘ooooh, someone's got a crush’ look. Rolling your eyes gently, yet still smiling, you turn your attention back to your boyfriend. The moment is fully pure, filled with such genuine affection, that you can't help but feel a swell of pride in your chest.

Thankfully the interview doesn’t last much longer, because as hard as you tried to pay attention to the remaining couple of minutes, your mind was in a constant rewind mode, replaying what your boyfriend said over and over. You don’t actually notice that it’s over until you notice Brody shuffling away from you and you look up to see Stephen walking over. His stride is confident, his eyes locked onto yours, and your heart flutters in anticipation.

Your smile brightens more as he reaches you, his hand immediately finding your waist and pulling you close into him. His smile matches yours and you just stand for a second, smiling like idiots as you stare at each other. The world around you fades away, leaving just the two of you in your own perfect bubble. You then stretch up a tad, moving to push his glasses back up his nose and you lean in closer.

“A shot of espresso, huh?” You say quietly, eyebrows rising slightly. Your voice is soft, filled with a mixture of amusement and affection.

He laughs, looking away for a second before plastering a serious expression on his face. “Yeah, you fill me with energy and make me feel ready for the day and, y’know,” he pauses for a split second before lowering his voice. “I love drinking you—”

“Stephen Nedoroscik, behave,” You whisper sternly, but as a satisfied grin works its way onto his face, you can’t help but laugh just a little. “You better pray to God that those microphones are off now.”

“I said it quietly,” he says with an innocent shrug, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

You roll your eyes. “A shot of espresso,” you say again, shaking your head. The phrase now holding a special significance, a private joke between the two of you.

“Mm, I mean if your energy in bed is anything to go off of—”

“Steve!”

He laughs again, this time taking your hand as he begins to lead you out of the room. Slinging an arm over your shoulder, he turns his head and presses a soft kiss to your temple. “Seriously though, you’re the best. I love you.”

You smile, leaning into his side, feeling the warmth of his body against yours and you words are simple, but they carry the weight of all the love and affection you feel for him “I love you more, champ.”

[yesbutmakeitgay]

A Picture Cannot Contain The Way It Feels

GIF by kevinfeiges

Valkyrie x Reader

Summary: King Valkyrie discovers social media, much to your dismay.

Light angst with a happy ending, Queen!R.

Word count: 2k

Beta'd by the wonderful @cordeliasdarling

A/N: May or may not have been inspired by real life events…

Masterlist | AO3

Valkyrie has been spending a lot of time with Kamala. A lot. She's got a smartphone and a verified account on every social media available. She doesn't quite understand what Kamala does with the small screen, but she knows that whenever she turns it on, she receives messages from her fans all over the universe.

You've had the privilege of witnessing The King's journey with technology, a perk of working with her everyday.

The King is away on a business trip while you stay in New Asgard holding down the fort as the reigning Queen, she’s been away for months and still has a few more weeks before she returns.

You miss her. You miss how she always makes you breakfast in the morning, you miss her playing with her swords in your shared office when she gets bored of working, you miss having silent conversations with your eyes as you sit through endless meetings together.

Sure, you have a marriage of convenience, crafted to unite the strongest aspects of your parents' Kingdom with the recently established Kingdom of New Asgard, but in your time of knowing Val, you've grown to really like her. You're more than just King and Queen, you are coworkers and friends.

The King spends a lot of time away from home, often traveling to different galaxies for diplomatic reasons, you never ask where she's going or what she's doing, you only ask that she tells you when she's coming back.

You're in your office, pretending to work as you scroll through your phone, when a notification catches your attention. The King has just posted an Instagram story, you weren't aware she knew how to do that. You immediately tap your screen to reveal a picture of Valkyrie with some guy. They're sitting next to each other. Very close.

You don't recognize his face nor do you recognize anything around them, despite priding yourself in knowing every nation your Kingdom has a relationship with.

You enter the guy's profile to investigate further and find that they have more pictures together with lots of sweet captions. Valkyrie has liked every single one of them.

A feeling starts to bubble inside you, jealousy, perhaps? It can't be, Valkyrie and you are just friends, friends who live together, work together, and sleep in the same bed. Friends who wish they could hold the other one's hand in the privacy of their home, or kiss them goodnight even when no one's watching.

Without further questioning, you call for an emergency meeting with the council and they all hurriedly arrive at your office.

"Thank you all for coming on such short notice, a sensitive matter has been brought to my attention," you pull your phone out to show the picture in The King's instagram story, "I need to know who this man is." They all give you a puzzled look.

After a while of them staring at your screen, one of them speaks, "Apologies, Your Majesty, but did you summon us for an emergency meeting over a social media post?"

You don't lose your composure, "I did, now if anyone can please tell me?" They all shake their heads to signify their ignorance.

"He is not of any relevance to the political interests of the Kingdom, so, if you'll excuse us, we all have work to do." They stand up and leave.

Despite the head of the council being harsh on you, you are certain they would have told you if they recognized the man.

That night before you go to bed, you try to contact Valkyrie, but, as it often happens when she's away, you are unable to reach her. You lay down starring at the image on your phone, the bed feels so cold and vast without her in it.

After many failed attempts at contacting The King over several days, you decide to call someone you know will pick up.

"Can I borrow Kamala's phone?" you speak immediately after the call gets through.

"We’re in the Magellanic, are you gonna come get it?" Carol isn’t phased by you lack of manners, in fact, she finds it amusing coming from a Queen.

"I would if I could," you sigh.

"Why do you want her phone?"

"I can't get a hold of Val, I have a feeling if Kamala called her, she would answer."

Now Carol is concerned, "Is something wrong?"

You think about it for a moment and subtly try to steer the conversation, "Did you ever catch feelings for Yan?"

She's taken aback by your question, "Um, no, I’m a lesbian," it takes her a second to realize, "wait, do you have feelings for Val?" she gasps.

You panic, "No, course not, you have feelings for Val!" you stammer in a weak attempt to retaliate.

"Uh-uh, I already went through that, and it didn't work out." A teasing smirk grows on her face.

Your whole body deflates, "Whatever, it doesn't matter, she has a boyfriend."

"Val? A boyfriend?" She crosses her arms, unconvinced.

"Or a husband or something."

"How do you know that?" Carol is extremely skeptical about this, she knows Val better than to think she'd date a man. You show her the picture from Valkyrie's story which makes her frown, "Who is he?"

"You don't know?" You are shocked, you were really hoping Carol, of all people, would know him, "So she didn't even tell her best friend?"

She looks at you with betraying eyes, "You know I’m not her best friend."

The meaning of her words takes a second to settle into you, your features change completely once it does, "Please no," you beg, but you know there is no other way.

You're gonna have to talk to The God of Thunder.

Carol leaves you to it, and you decide to promptly call the former King, before your brain can back out.

He picks up quickly, looking very cheerful and genuinely thrilled to see you, "Hey, long time no talk!"

You're a bit apprehensive, it's not that you don't like him, you just don't really click with each other, though he doesn’t seem to mind, "Yeah, sorry about that, I've been busy running that Kingdom you abandoned," you joke.

"Ah, yes, how's that going?"

"It's going well," you clear your throat, "I wanted to ask you something," you get to the point as swiftly as possible showing him the picture, "do you know who this is?"

He smiles, "Yeah, that's Aksel!"

You raise your eyebrows in surprise at him actually giving you a useful answer, "Aksel whom?"

"He's a cool dude." You weakly nod at the less useful answer.

"How do you know Aksel?"

"He's Valkyrie's friend."

"Just a friend?" you pry, trying to get Thor to understand what you’re really asking.

"Well, no, they're very close, they hug and kiss, you know, best friends!"

"They—what!" Thor is still smiling cluelessly, a million thoughts run through your head, "How come the council doesn't know who he is?"

"Oh, yeah, she keeps him from them, she’s just a private person," he shrugs.

You realize that's all you're gonna get from Thor, so you say your goodbyes, "Okay, thank you, bye." You hang up and slump in your chair realizing the worst case scenario is real, your wife has another partner, one that she actually likes.

After that day, your attitude shifts completely, you become quiet and reserved, bleak. You don’t throw any sarcastic remarks as you’re made to sit through hour long meetings with you advisors, you don’t make a single scene when your parents come to visit. Your daily routine consists of staying in your office all day and locking yourself in your room at night, if anyone has noticed this change, they haven’t mentioned it, at least not to you.

It's the middle of the night and you are sound asleep, your sadness making it so easy to sink into the pillows way before your bedtime.

You feel the faint trace of lips leave a kiss on your cheek followed by a familiar scent, but when you wake up in the morning, the bed is empty, filling you with disappointment.

It takes you longer than usual to get ready for the day. As you exit your room and enter the kitchen, an unbothered Val greets you, offering you breakfast.

You're startled by her presence after having convinced yourself that what you felt last night was just a dream, your whole body stiffens, "You're back?"

"It was an emergency."

You look around, puzzled, "Everything's fine here."

"Yeah, you're not worked up at all," she snarks, placing your food on the table and turning to you again.

"I’m worked up because you didn't tell me you were coming back early."

"Marv called," she admits with a sigh.

"And you picked up?" Your voice becomes angry.

"…From Kamala's phone," you roll your eyes, "what's the matter, love?" Her tone is so soft you could melt into it, but you try your best to resist.

"Who's Aksel?" you ask through gritted teeth.

"Pardon?"

"The guy from the picture you posted."

She immediately identifies the problem and decides she's gonna let you drag it out for as long as possible for her own entertainment, "He’s an old friend of mine."

You don't want to tip toe around it, "He's not just a friend, you hug him and kiss him."

"Who told you that?" An amused grin grows on her face.

"Thor."

She chuckles, "You should know better than to ask Thor for anything at all."

"Did he lie to me?"

She looks at the ceiling as she thinks, biting the inside of her cheek, "No, but I’m sure if I went around kissing Aksel the way you're thinking, his boyfriend would be very upset."

"Oh," your face goes beet red, "then how come the council doesn't know about him?"

"He's just a friend, I visit him whenever I’m in the vicinity, it's not a big deal."

You’re still agitated, "You’ve liked every single one of his posts!"

"I think he did that himself," she gently places her hands on your shoulders, "I didn't think you cared enough about him to drag everyone we know into this."

You're ashamed, to say the least, "I’m sorry, I overreacted."

"All I want to know is, why?" Her voice remains velvety soft as she lets her arms fall back to her sides.

You look to the ground, unable to even attempt to make eye contact, "I think I have feelings for you."

There is a moment of silence, you brace yourself, waiting for her to blow up at you.

"We lead a Kingdom together, I sure hope you have some feelings for me," she asserts, making you look at her again, "do you think there aren't enough rooms in this palace?" she takes a step towards you, "We work together because we want to, we eat together because we want to, we sleep together because we want to, I thought that was clear from the beginning."

You are perplexed by her words, "But I thought—"

"Everyone knows we married for convenience, nobody is expecting us to sleep in the same bed. You always had the choice to live in your own room, but you never did, I assumed we were on the same page."

You think back to the day you moved in after the wedding, "It just seemed like the most natural thing to be by your side from day one, It felt right," you whisper, "I guess we were on the same page, I just didn't know it."

Val takes your hands in hers, "Come here, my Queen, I think we may have taken things a little too slow."

Later that day, Valkyrie makes her first actual Instagram post. It's a selfie of the both of you, she's placing a kiss on your cheek, and you're scrunching up your nose in surprise. The caption reads, "I love you, my feisty Queen ❤️."

Tessa Thompson's instagram has me going feral on the daily.

[i-can-read-to-him]

The Wesper Fic Club's Author Spotlight is a post series that aims to feature two to three fic authors a month, randomly selected from a pool of names put forth on our server. The authors are then asked to answer three interview questions, select up to five of their fics for us to feature, and finally, recommend three fics by others in the fandom.

(Note: Our spotlighted fics are not limited to Wesper, though they tend to be a central pairing in most of our authors' featured works.)

This week, we are putting a spotlight on Jazzy's writing!

Socials: @jazzythursday (Tumblr) | Jazzythursday (AO3)

❀

Part One: Author Interview

Q: What do you consider your strengths as a writer?

A: I love writing dialogue, and I take a lot of pride in being able to create scenes where there are authentic conversations happening. For me that goes hand in hand with good characterisation, which I try really hard to stay true to. Nailing a character’s voice, their gestures, the way they think and overall spirit and being able to make it come through on the page is probably the thing that I’m always trying the hardest to do, and I’m really proud when I’m able to pull it off. I also would like to think I’m good at incorporating metaphor and poetic imagery into my writing. 

Q: Who is your favourite character? What do you love about them?

A: It’s not really a secret that my favourite character is Wylan. I started watching SAB already knowing that I’d love him from spoilers I saw online, but I really couldn’t have predicted how much he’d come to mean to me.  I tend to fixate on characters I see myself in, that I can relate to and also find aspirational, and so much of Wylan’s character speaks to me in that way. He’s anxious and scared most of the time, unsure of where he fits in or how to act, which is honestly how I feel most of the time too. One of my favourite things that I think sometimes gets overlooked about him is his bravery. To me, Wylan is the embodiment of the phrase “do it scared”. Even with everything he struggles with, he always tries, and that’s something I’ve been trying to take with me in my own life. I think of him a lot when I’m trying to hype myself up for things I don’t feel equipped for. I also really love Wylan’s kindness—the way he refuses to let his experiences make him cruel or stop seeing how much beauty there is in the world. He sees so much in his environment and the people around him. He has so much compassion, and even though it makes him vulnerable, I think there’s so much strength in him choosing to often lead with it instead of hiding it away. 

Q: Have you had a chance to interact with the SAB cast? Tell us about your experience(s). 

A: I have had too many experiences with them to properly articulate. I was able to go to multiple conventions this year where the cast were guests, as well as see Next to Normal in London and meet Jack at stagedoor. Meeting Jack is always surreal. They really are such a lovely human. The one moment that sticks out to me the most is when I got soc and ck signed at Into The Fold. I remember I’d gotten to meet him briefly before that but not been able to talk much because of nerves, so I had planned and written down this whole Thing I wanted to say about how much he inspires me as a performer and as someone who is studying musical theatre. He was really kind about it, and seemed genuinely excited to talk about theatre for a bit. Then at the end after he’d signed the books I blanked out mentally and said something like “ah—words, yes, those are— those are a thing… and I can use them… correctly… :)” and he was just nodding supportively (and I think trying not to laugh) saying “Mhm. Yeah, they are :)”  At MagicCon a few weeks ago I managed to give him a blue butterfly as well (not a real one. I have fake plastic sparkly ones on clips) which I’ve been wanting to do since Into The Fold. I started carrying them around with me as part of my Wylan cosplay, and have recently started keeping one on me whenever I feel like I need some extra luck. I don’t know if they really are lucky or not, but they feel lucky to me. 

Q: What are some recurring themes you’ve noticed in your writing? 

A: I place a lot of weight on feelings over plot, so a lot of my fics centre on an emotional journey of some kind, i.e: a character feeling displaced, and then more secure by the end; a character experiencing something awful, and having to deal with carrying on in the aftermath—Coping and trauma both come up a lot, because I find that fascinating and cathartic to write. It’s one of the things I wonder about the most: How does this character cope with their trauma? How do they feel about it and what makes their days easier? What makes them harder? Who do they lean on for support? Wesper calls to me as a ship so much because a major function of their relationship is how they help and support each other without judgement. Nurodivergence also comes up a lot. There’s a section I go back to a lot in Every Day, Just a Little or a Little Bit that goes into detail about Jesper’s adhd and how Wylan both relates and doesn’t relate to it through his own experience with dyslexia and autism. 

Q: What is one of your favourite scenes from the source material (book or show)?

A: I love all the wesper scenes in the book, so that’s just too hard to even begin to narrow down. As for the show, I looooove the wesper scene at the end of episode 4. It’s so beautifully well done. They have a very honest conversation, which is rare to see in this type of media. Wylan talks to Jesper candidly about the reasons why he left and how he felt, and Jesper sees that honestly and gives it back to him by sharing his own feelings. They’re both so vulnerable with each other and not used to that kind of honesty, and they treat that with more gentleness than I usually expect from shows—and I love that that’s the catalyst for their kiss.  I genuinely believe it’s one of the best scenes I’ve ever seen. From an acting perspective, Kit and Jack are perfect, and the music and cinematography just adds so much romance and significance that it really stands out as a Big Moment™. On the soundtrack, the song that plays under the scene is called The Night We Met, and it does a really great job of heightening the emotions in it. In the beginning, Wylan and Jesper are feeling each other out, not quite sure of where they stand, and so the score starts with only singular notes on the harp. The more the conversation progresses, closer they get to each other, the more music we hear. I don’t know if it’s strings or wind instruments (I can’t tell by ear), but the chords are held out, which creates this feeling of waiting and suspense—you want the song to go somewhere, to relieve that tension, and it does. Violin gets added slowly at first, soft with hope as they approach understanding, and then only once Wylan and Jesper kiss do we hear the music really take off. The tempo, the energy, it all swells with excitement. It really just takes my breath away, honestly. The violin is sometimes considered the closest instrument to the human voice, which feels very poignant for the instrument that takes over in this moment. They aren't talking anymore, but they are still communicating—physically, with their eyes and with their bodies, the kissing is a conversation—it reminds me of how in musical theatre it’s said that the songs start when the character’s emotions are too big for simply speaking them, and so they sing. That’s what the violin is doing at the end of the scene, it’s singing for them in a moment where emotions are too big for words.  I didn’t mean to write that much for this question, but there it is. 😅 I also love their scene the next morning because it’s soft and domestic, but I’ll leave it at that for now, otherwise this would be a 10 page essay about all of their scenes in the books and the show instead of an author spotlight.

❀

Part Two: Selected Works

Everyday, Just a Little or a Little Bit

Teen | 42.8K | Post-Season/Series 02, Character Study, Van Eck Reveal, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse

Wylan keeps waiting for it all to go wrong. Ever since that first night, after they beat Pekka Rollins, ever since the night after that, when it wasn’t over. Every morning since, when it still wasn’t. Happiness isn’t reliable. Peace is not permanent. People do not stay. This is what Wylan knows; it’s the only proven hypothesis he has any reason to trust. And every day, he wonders how long he has left before everything good that’s happened over the last month is inevitably whisked away. Or: the scenic route to the Van Eck reveal. Wylan Van Eck, in the months following the Crow’s return to Ketterdam. Struggling with his past, relearning love in its many forms, and worrying an awful lot about how to keep it.

Cutting Loses

Teen And Up | 1.2K | Canon Compliant, Missing Scene, Light Angst, Pre-Season/Series 02

Wylan is no stranger to one night stands. He can’t say he gets around very frequently, but enough to know the general plot of how they're supposed to go. Flirt, drink, fuck, leave. The order isn’t necessarily set in stone, but the list ends the same every time. He doesn’t even remember falling asleep, really.

No Right Way for the Blue or Black Days

Teen And Up | 4K | Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Jesper Fahey's Gambling Addiction, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse

Wylan wakes up alone. He knows, immediately, that something is wrong. The only disturbance of the covers has been made by himself; the other side of the bed is untouched, except for where his hand had landed on Jesper's pillow during the night. The rest is left unruffled and empty. He hadn’t come back. Jesper has a run in with some debt collectors after a solo job, and comes back to the Slat bruised, bloody, embarrassed and, despite all insistence to the contrary, not fine. Neither of them take it well.

I Need to Leave (Please Stay)

Teen And Up | 1.6K | Wylan Van Eck-centric, Pre-Canon, First Meetings, Getting Together, Light Angst, Self-Esteem Issues, exploration of trauma

People leave, it is a theory proven time and time again. Tried and tested and true. People leave, so Wylan always, always leaves first. It’s the better way, the only way, to keep on with whatever semblance of life he’s living. In which Wylan struggles through his first year in the Barrel, and tests a theory which garners surprising results.

Heart Of The Country

Teen And Up | 24.1K | Slice of Life, Character Study, Post-Book 2: Crooked Kingdom

It’s a funny thought: the house beside the old jurda farm as home. It isn’t, really. It hasn’t been for a long, long time. Home became, at some point, his room above the Crow Club, where he could hear Kaz pacing around his office at night above him and the rowdy, boisterous noise from the club below. Home became his and Wylan’s shared room at the Slat. The one with the paint chipped walls and the leaky pipes and the brassy, artless key Wylan still wears around his neck, long after they’ve moved out. And after, slowly but surely, it became the Van Eck mansion; all the towered ceilings and too many rooms of it. But the farm will always be home to him too, he supposes. The way the place you grew up will always be. Or, a series of happenings at the Fahey family farm, one year post-Crooked Kingdom.

❀

Part Three: Author's Recs

out of the forest (into a home)

Mature | 89.2K | Alternate Universe - Daemons, Alternate Universe - Laundromat, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Social Anxiety, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse

The first time they meet, it’s closing in on five thirty in the morning, and Wylan is elbow-deep in the back of one of the washing machines trying to repair a leaky inlet hose. The door buzzes, signalling the arrival of a customer. “Hey,” someone says in a rich baritone. “Can I get some change?” --- Wylan is adrift in the city; Jesper and the rest of the Crows take him in.

counterclockwise

Mature | 12.1K | Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Post-Canon 

“Wylan?” Jesper asked, uncertain. There was so much trust wrapped into his name, and all Wylan could taste was fear without courage. He couldn’t breathe. “What did you do?” -------------- Or, the one in which Wylan’s never defused an explosive before, Jesper prepares for a mercher ball, and Kaz and Inej snag an invitation.

Forgiveness of Debts

Teen And Up | 35.3 | Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Kidnapping, Wylan Van Eck Whump, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse

They lie on the edge of the roof, watching the guests arrive at the Ice Court, dignitaries, performers, the workers from the West Stave houses. In the midst of the glittering crowds one group stands out, a blot of darkness among the gaudy frocks and suits. Inej inhales sharply. She’s looking down at the man in the centre of the group, whose reddish hair is going sparse on top. “Isn’t that–” Beside Jesper, Wylan stills, his body a tense line. “Van Eck,” Kaz confirms. His face turns grimmer than usual.  Wylan’s secret is revealed at the worst time, and in the worst way. Everything afterwards happens a little differently.

❀

Please support our authors by commenting and leaving kudos on any stories of theirs you read and enjoy! Don't forget to also reblog this post and check back soon for our next author spotlight to come.

Interested in joining our server and getting to know our community? Feel free to request an invite via the @i-can-read-to-him ask box.

[amournoir]

𝐚𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭 | 𝐞.𝐦

title: Alphabet | Elijah Mikaelson w/ girlfriend, fiancée, or wife

warning(s): none, pure fluff. sfw

a/n: my very first headcannon, i made up my own words, but i hope i did this right. still on hiatus but i loved this idea too much, i had to write it. i hope you like it!  

A - adventure

: everyday is an adventure with you. everything that you two do never gets tiring or boring to him, there’s always something new.

B - beauty

: there’s a lot of beauty in the world and as someone who has been alive for a millennia, he can’t disagree. though the only beauty he sees is you regardless of what you’ve believed in your entire existence, there’s beauty in you and he appreciates that.

C - clothes  

: he’ll spoil you rotten with everything especially clothing. there’s just something about the way you fit into the clothes he picks that turns him on. his favorite has to be dresses that fit you like a second skin and heels.

D - dancing

: come on, you must’ve seen this one coming. he loves to dance and he’ll drag you to every ball, party, gala, etc., just to show you off on the dance floor.

E - elijah  

: himself and let me explain why. he prides himself on being known as an honorable gentleman, which he is, but that isn’t what drew you to him. you just wanted to know what the suit meant, you always saw him with one and thought there was symbolism (which there is). his suits enticed you but his mannerism is what made you stay.

F - family

: this goes without saying but the man adores family and holds it to the highest respect. he’d absolutely love to have one with you someday— just imagine a bunch of little elijahs running around in suits 🥺

G - gifts

: i mentioned clothes up there and this goes in tandem with it. he’d buy you anything and everything without question. if he rips your lingerie, he’ll just replace it with a piece that’s sexier. or tears your dress, you’ll find another in the closet before the day ends. your favorite gift from him had to be the necklace with his and your initials.

H - hugs  

: there’s nowhere you feel safer than in his arms especially after a long day of fighting enemies and he returns unharmed to you. he may dislike pda but he’d never refuse to hold you or hug you in public. there’s nothing better than Elijah’s hugs to you— the side/cheek kisses, back rubs, his scent, and just the strength of the hug makes you feel wanted and loved.

I - inspiration

: you’re his entire world. you inspire him to do and be better, he’s not lacking in that department but you show him that it’s not foolish to hold on or have hope. your belief in him is what makes him fight for you in every way he can.

J - jewelry

: his taste is out of this world, haven’t you seen his attire?? you’re quite sure that the jewelry pieces you own are above the carats that are sold in the most prestigious shops. it wouldn’t be a surprise if he had someone — he can’t ruin his suit of course — mine a literal diamond just for you. you easily blind everyone but you actually hate being the center of attention so you only wear them on important occasions.

K - kisses

: ahhhh! all the kisses from him are magical! those moments are something straight out of a movie that makes you feel all mushy inside. you giggled like a schoolgirl after your first kiss and you still do to this day. it’s all because of that smile of his that makes you weak in the knees and fireworks that explode inside you.

L - lover

: he’s the best lover you’ve ever had and will ever have (don’t lie, you won’t find better). he’s so sweet with you, so gentle and caring. he can be the utter opposite if you ask though. he can be rougher, meaner, and disrespectful in a respectful way if you’d prefer.

M - memories

: whenever you’re not around him, you remind yourself of the time you’ve spent together. your shared memories are what hold you both and tether you to each other. his favorite is when you said you loved him and your favorite is when he proposed. out of every woman in the world, he wants to spend eternity with you.

N - nurse

: you’ve nursed far more wounds than you’ve ever had personally. it used to surprise you the amount of bloody shirts he had but not anymore. you no longer nurse his physical wounds, it’s more so the mental ones that threaten to unleash his monster.

O - optimism

: you look at things differently than others. you tend to see the good in things and people, you’re not quick to assume the worst of others. he loves this about you because he isn’t the same either and he likes that you can understand each other, it makes your communication better. you decide on less killing people by figuring out how to avoid conflict or compromise.

P - pain

: it pains you to see him in pain and the image of him chained by his mother gave you nightmares for days. you’re unable to handle any pain — as is any human — but the thought of you hurt is unfathomable to him. he’d destroy everything to spare you any sort of pain inflicted by him or his family.

Q - quality time

: Elijah loved being around you even if you’re doing nothing. you could be sat on the couch reading and he’d join you to give you a foot massage. you could be taking a nap and he’d lay awake next to you, watching. the man simply loves being in your presence at all times.

R - road trip

: earlier i said adventure and this is similar but not really. he loves being away with you. a cabin, the beach, a small town, etc., it doesn’t matter to him where you go as long as you’re together. you love road trips but loathe driving but he’s a great driver so this works out well for you. your most recent road trip was 3 weeks ago, you had gone for a month to a different country in honor of your birthday. you both agreed to do this once a year so it became tradition.

S - smile

: just the thought of his smile makes you smile. your favorite is that half smile/smirk of his that makes you blush. his laughter is an added bonus but you adore his smiles, even the sad ones. Elijah standing with a glass in hand and the other in his pocket, smiling at you from across the room is an image that lives rent free in your head. you do get jealous, just slightly, if he smiles at anyone else.

T - touch

: you love touching him and you make up all sorts of excuses to do so. he’s well aware of this but doesn’t care, he loves being touched by you. cuddling in bed under the sheets with your legs tangled together and your face hidden in his chest is heaven to you. even when you’re mad at him, you still yearn to touch him.

U - uniforms

: a new thing you’ve both started exploring is role playing. you’ve seen him in suits and you love it but what does he look like in other clothing? it started out as a fashion show so he could help you pick out clothes but it quickly turned into you uncovering your hidden kink for role playing and he’s all too happy to satiate you.

V - vanity

: you’re not crazy about your appearance on a daily basis but he is about his. he must be suited at all times but behind closed doors, he couldn’t care less how he looks with you. you occasionally dress up which gives him…ideas but overall you’re always nicely dressed. just not in a gown or anything.

W - winter

: this is your favorite season because of how sweet it is. it’s a season full of love, hugs, cuddles, snowball fights, hot chocolates, etc., and you love doing all that with him. you’re not a sports person so you don’t partake in winter sports but for him, you were willing to try skiing. you hated the amount of times you ate snow but you liked ice skating so there’s that.

X -  xylophone

: his favorite musical instrument is a piano and he’s absolutely wonderful at it. he’s written you songs on your birthday, your anniversary together, holidays, etc. you can actually play but you pretend you can’t just so you can sit next to him and do nothing but listen with your eyes closed, laid on his shoulder. it’s a serene moment between you two.

Y - you

: he simply loves you in every way imaginable. there’s not a thing he could ever change or even want to. you’re absolutely perfect for him and he often wonders what he ever did to deserve you. you wonder the same but you came to accept that he’s yours and there’s no use in questioning it. he adores your blinding smile, your soft eyes, your joyous laugh, your caring heart, and the way that you love him.

Z - zen

: you ground him when everything feels likes it’s ready to cave in on him. he’s his most calmest with you around and when you’re not there, he conjures up memories of you as a way to relax and focus. oh that man is so deeply in love with you and you with him, you work so well together. you are his peace and he is yours.

🏷️  taglist: @mrs-maximoff-kenner @thatfanficstuff @elijahmikaelsontrash @mxacegrey @thatfictionalwh0re @catmikaelson20 @loverswillowed @duhitzdae @sweetwrathoflilith @panic-at-the-fiction @iiskittles16ii @original-siphon @hellotvshowtrash @onlyfreds @imgoingtofreakoutnow @slinthoex @mikaelsonsdeservedbetter @i-love-nora @multiversediaries @decoffinated-vamps @livsterriblesecret @hopester08 @aloneatpeace @hopes-wife @slutforkol @jjsprettygirl​ 

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[kawaiipsycho101]

Inspired by the wonderful cat!Shinji AU created by @jo-gakky

I'm taking a walk when I notice a cat hanging upside down in a tree. It doesn't seem to be particularly bothered by its current position, as if this was something they were regularly used to. Still, I want to be sure.

"You okay there, buddy?" I ask. The cat looks at me at me before calmy & gracefully untangling itself from the branch. I let out a sigh of relief. "Okay, then."

I get a closer look at the cat as it hops onto a fencepost. Gangly limbs, white paws, & a nub of a tail meaning the poor thing must've been in an accident at some point...at least, I hope it was an accident.

"Funny lookin' thing, ain'tchya?" The cat, who had been ignoring me whilst grooming itself, suddenly gets up & disappears into someone's backyard. "I meant unique! Unique!" I droop when it doesn't come back.

I see it again a few days later & take a few steps towards it while still keeping my distance.

“Hey," I wave, "I'm sorry about what I said earlier. That was rude of me. If it makes ya feel any better, I still think you're cute. I like unique lookin' cats. Anyway, we cool?"

The cat meows at me.

"I'm taking that as a yes."

Later that evening, I spot the cat around my backyard. Wasting no time, I grab some cat food.

"Hello again." Like before, I approach with caution. "I had some food lyin' around & thought you might like some." I set the small dish on the ground. "It's probably not as good as what you'd find in the wild, but I know it's gettin' cold out & I figure it's better than nothin', ya know?"

The cat just looks at me. With a tired sigh, I take a few steps back & sit down.

"Well, if you don't eat it, maybe the raccoons will, I don't care... Just don't want it to go to waste, ya know?"

We stare at each other for a while before I eventually go back inside. When I check the food dish the next morning, most of the kibble's been eaten. I refill it.

A few days later, I spot the cat eating out of the dish.

"Mind if I join you?" I sit down not too far from them when I'm ignored. "Thanks."

I watch them eat for a bit... Then I start talking.

"I miss seein' cats around here. My neighbor had a bunch & would feed the strays, but when she moved away, they just stopped comin' around. Of course, I had my own cat to worry about." I hug my knees to my chest. "Not anymore though, she passed away not too long ago. Had her for over twenty years... Since I was a little kid. She was a bitch & a psycho, & it took ten years for her to warm up to me...but she was a damn good cat. I miss her." I tilt my head back, so any potential tears can go right back into their ducts. "It's weird...not seein' her outside my room or on my bed when I wake up. It's..." I shake my head & stand back up, turning to head back inside. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be botherin' ya while you eat. I'll leave ya to it-"

Something jumps onto my back before clawing its way onto my shoulder. I'm not proud of the noises I make.

Next thing I know, a golden furry flank is pressed against my cheek as the little bastard purrs right in my ear.

"Look-ow!-sweetie, while I really appreciate the-shit!-lovin', I really need you to-fuck me, that smarts!- get down now."

By the time the cat's off of me, I've gained many scratches & while they hurt like a bitch, I can't help but laugh as it scampers away looking far too pleased with itself.

After that, it's always underfoot whenever I go on walks, leading me to christen them with the title, Lil' Shit, a badge they seem to wear with pride. I don't mind...much. I'm just happy to have a furry friend again.

A few weeks later, I wake up in the middle of the night with hunger pangs. I toss & turn, try to wait them out, but they won't go away. Resigned, I go to the kitchen for a granola bar.

What I find is a nearly six-foot-tall shirtless young man in sweatpants with cat ears & a tail that are most certainly attached to his body raiding my refrigerator. We stare at each other for a solid minute before I slump onto the lid of my garbage can.

"...Huh."

@jo-gakky

[thetwilightroadtonightfall]

I know it's improbable, BUT what would Agapios and Ephemer's interactions would be like on an if scenario of them talking? I want to hear your take on this hypothetical scenario ﾟ+(人・∀・*)+｡♪

Thanks for the ask, Romy!! I’ve been struck with inspiration today, so I wrote up a short thing. Hope you like it (◡‿◡✿)

“So you’re the famous Ephemer I’ve heard so much about!”

“I wouldn’t say famous…” He cranes his neck up, up, up, putting on his best smile. “It’s really an honour to meet you, sir.”

“Hey, hey, no need for ‘sir’,” Agapios tells him, enthusiastically shaking his hand. Ephemer can’t tell if his grip is intentionally or unintentionally tight. He doesn’t know which is more intimidating. “‘Dad’ will do just fine! You already call Xeni ‘Mom’, right? If she’s fine with it, so am I.”

“Sure, no problem.” Ephemer can feel his heart hammering in his throat. But he holds himself steady, determined not to make a fool of himself in front of the person his partner holds in such high regards. “Charis has told me a lot about you too. Mostly about how cool and strong you are.”

“Oh, yeah?”

He turns away, emerald eyes swimming with thought. Just when Ephemer begins to worry he may have said something wrong, the burgundy-haired man rests his hand upon his shoulder—heavy, but warm.

“I’d say you’re the cool and strong one,” Agapios praises with a gentle smile. “My lil’ firecracker’s more than capable of fending for herself. But it’s good to know that whenever she gets in over her head, she’s got someone who’s got her back. So thank you, Ephemer…for being there for Charis on my behalf.”

The Keyblade Master swells with pride, a weight lifted off his chest. “We’re there for each other. We always will be.”

[allthatisleftinthedark]

I'd like to know what would be the fastest way for Maisie to become a villain. What would truly push her over the edge and make her go "i have nothing left to lose, so i will hurt all of those who have ever hurt me?"

Thank you for the question, anonymous!

Initially, my thoughts of Maisie's "villain" heel turn had me stumped. The idea of a villain in a story is to pass the moral quandary of what isn't acceptable, acting malicious, cruel, and harmful to those around them in the story. As previously explored in another ask, the characters may present themselves as antagonistic, but I see that as natural to any story when characters are meant to be people of differing opinions, experiences, and ideals. My characters, Maisie included, are not meant to be written as permanent antagonists in a story because, ultimately, they are participating characters in a collaborative campaign. Any prolonged or permanent antagonists would be the dungeon master's responsibility; my characters may provide conflict or tension, but that isn't their sole purpose in an otherwise expanding, multi-branching story.

To completely lose her heart and act with cruelty, without regret or grief, would be something that has to have extreme circumstances. For her to act cruel or harmful to someone while sorrowful is entirely possible!

Maisie always tends to work from an area of compromise. She is confident and proud of her accolades, but her mobility is limited. One of her greatest strengths—her heart — is also a contender for constant criticism by the elders. To be following their word, and also the words of her elder sisters, her compassion and emotions are caught in a labyrinth of thorns. As such a sensitive vessel, those prods and tears wear her throughout the years. However, her optimism is seen as resistance on matters outside of Dewburrow.

There are decisions she makes that may impact someone negatively. There is only so much work she can do to fulfill her larger quota or most pending and pertinent goal, and she needs to grit her teeth and swallow her pride. Depending on the matter, the stinging may be as intense as the last; those who've underestimated her certainly get a sprinkle of her empathy, but there are those she knows would feel so disappointed and hopeless when she has to deliver those words. Maybe that's why she tries so hard for those cases; Maisie knows the feeling all too well of helplessness and trying to overcome the impossible. Perhaps that's why she is so vigilant on Orchidus, where she nudged his side while they washed dishes, telling him it's better to be honest about the confusion than put up a facade. (She's already seen past it once.)

The foundation of her beliefs would always revolve around the betterment of the town, her family included. The greatest threat to her goals and personal stability would be direct harm and destruction of her foundation. Currently, Maisie harbors a deep grudge against the current head of House Grimgard due to her younger siblings' traumatic and near-death experience at the Graneyean Academy of Arcane Arts. She only openly expressed this at the Watcher's Tower, when her book compelled her to "complete" her story and update everyone on her history. Despite her attempts to sound impartial, there was an underlying deep-rooted feeling of something in her that Salphan, at least, noticed whenever Lord Grimgard was mentioned. When Severia confirmed one of Maisie's deepest fears--that her village exists no more in another universe--, it started taking its toll on her. However, more than that is needed to throw her out of kilter.

Cassandra, the Trojan priestess cursed by the god Apollo to where no one would believe her prophecies, is one of Maisie's primary character inspirations. It is she who notices, plans, and warns, but her cries fall on deaf ears; no one is quite so willing to listen to her when she happens to be the pawn that is meant to be moved or worked. Her elders, sisters, and other associates she works with do this intentionally or not. She can be seen below someone's station based on gender, years of experience, race, etc. Or, in the specific case of her older siblings (Oren, Isla, and Emery), they had a final decision and said how to handle their "predicament," which meant Maisie kept quiet and did not address it. The cycle of frustration that comes for Cassandra and Maisie is that their voices are not heard, and even if they are wrong, no one will take their word.

This should all culminate in her being so overwhelmed that her entirety caves in on herself. However, Maisie's story follows loyalty, and her fidelity is almost invincible. In AUs where she gets a sadder end, like in Abandoned Pantheon Route, I would not consider that her worst outcome. It is one borne of depravity; she is stripped of individuality and humanity because she throws it all away for the "cause." She cannot define her threshold and stop herself before then; she gives and gives until there's nothing left.

When it comes to the conclusion she'd make to be a villain, Maisie's intent would not be to do unto others as they did to her. Harm is not really feasible with her current mentality; the mentality she would most likely have, in this particular scenario of losing everything, is, "I have nothing left to lose; what is holding me back anymore?" Her mindset, at that point, would still be rooted in the greater purpose and benefit of others, even if it means burning herself until there's nothing but ash left.

I would like to say that Maisie, in SoA, has an interesting trajectory that I have been cooking up for a while. It is written elsewhere but not on any Tumblr blog (so it is visible), but there is always the question, "What about Maisie?" And that question, my good reader, is something she will face to answer if things go according to plan. How soon would Maisie Doscedar look into the mirror and ask herself that? Has she already found no answers? How many times has she? What will be the push to get her to see another way? (I have the answer, but that's a spoiler~).

Anonymous, I leave you with this: what happens when you realize you save everyone else but not yourself ?

Take care!

[adhduck]

hellooooooooo 😍 for the "get to know your fic writer" meme: 27, 39, 46, 56, 64, 68 (I could ask like... a dozen of these 😂😂😂 I'm gonna add a wild-card here for you to answer one on the list you WANT to but that I didn't ask 👀)

oooooooh so many thank you for understanding i never wanna shut up

27. What is your most and least favorite part of writing?

Favorite part is either when I've been trying to tease out a scene for a while (especially one with lots of emotional complexity) and suddenly it all fits together Or when I write and somehow it all magically flows out of me with ease. Least favorite part is writing when it is Not magically flowing out of me and yet I am forced to keep going even though it feels bad lmao

39. Share a snippet from a WIP

First is Stede’s body, Ed soaping up a loofah and running it gently over all the dips and rolls and angles of the man he loves—the broad expanse of his chest, the dip in his navel, the crease between thigh and groin, the spot right below the arch of his foot where he’s ticklish as hell. Stede raises his arms obediently when Ed cleans his pits, looking at him with exhaustion and love in his eyes that Ed’s body hardly feels big enough to hold. When the worst of the general grime is running down the drain—not much, but Ed knows that doesn’t matter, can see how much weight has left Stede’s shoulders along with the dirt—Stede asks Ed to grab a washcloth and soap that up too, then takes a steadying breath. “Now my—my hands,” he says, lifting one for Ed to take. It’s shaking. “Please.”

46. How would you describe your style? (Character/emotion/action-driven, etc)

Definitely character and emotion driven over action. In my heart what I want my style to be at least is "big feelings in simple moments." That feeling of having the hugest emotions that seem like they should be overwhelming everything and yet life continues on, good or bad. Idk I just enjoy exploring emotions and their complexity and working through them and shit

56. What’s something about your writing that you pride yourself on?

I think when I write emotional scenes that have arguments or confessions or revelations or anything like that, it feels realistic without losing the intensity/spark you want out of scenes like that (are you seeing a pattern about what I focus on lmao)

64. Something you love to see in smut.

Laughter! Check-ins! Whimpering! The person giving being SO focused on the other person's needs and still possibly getting off from how good it feels to make them feel good!

68. What, if anything, do you do for inspiration?

Reading definitely, but sometimes when I'm trying to figure out how to write a fic or scene and I'm stuck, I will literally go on a walk with my dog and just talk to myself on voice memos the whole time. I don't even listen to the voice memo again usually but it's important I be recorded for some reason and it really gets me out of a rut like 9 times out of 10

BONUS: 47. How many times do you usually revise your fic/chapter before posting?

This is just me blatantly calling myself out that I edit........a lot before I post things. I secretly love editing more than I love writing sometimes lmao, and I will read through my shit SO MANY TIMES editing the tiniest little things (and then editing them back half the time). Whenever someone beta's for me it's like, they read it once or twice and I read it all like five times. (I do however want to soften up on this a liiiiittle bit so that I dont end up in silly editing spirals that aren't helpful.)

Ask me questions about fic

[soliddaddy96]

talk to me about what pers thinks about gunner or the effect gunner has on him

HII so sorry went chatterbox mode . uno momento

i think in the beginning pers was a leetol hostile towards gunner. out of apprehension and also not being able to comprehend why gunner would go out of his way to help a person like pers/having nothing to gain from it (i think abt rp ....). this, however, leads to him finally starting to see the good in people . 2 me < if not seeing goodness in himself, he sees it in others !! sees it in gunner seeking out help for him despite bleeding nd Maimed himself ! pers almost immediately grows fond of him after this revelation, coupled with the fact that despite seeing him in his most vulnerable moment gunner didnt actively try to hurt him (most he did was like, piss him off briefly) . in the future i think hed b practically Attached to gunner . out of love nd also not knowing what he is Without him. he also doesnt question things gunner asks him to do cos he trusts his judgement Immensely as a leader nd as a friend (gay pride flag). and also uhh . ex agent urge 2 follow orders nd what not. additionally i dont think he enjoys being open 2 gunner ill be real . views his experiences as deserved and fears if he speaks about them itll be confirmed < deathly afraid of gunner agreeing with him/saying he did in fact need to be tormented and was out of line for fighting back. i think hed only share tid bits of it w him tbh

HELP this man is so affected . i think he feels weak whenever hes around gunner, tbh . how despite going through the Horrors gunner still holds himself as a proud and accomplished person (in pers' eyes), whereas he gets nervous whenever he hears a door shut. i think hes most prone to act tough around gunner than anyone else in the gang- his attempts at trying to make up the fact that hes factually useless. hes eternally grateful that gunner feels safe being vulnerable around him < makes him feel that despite being weak theres at least One person that trusts him enough to do so . i think hed try to get better for gunner, not out of like . "oh i love you so much you inspire me to get well ^_^" but instead a "im going to try and be someone you deserve. im sorry im the one you love" type way

ALSOO extra thoguht so sorry but i remember you sending that 1 post thats compared them 2 hit song i bet on losing dogs by mitski and i become ILLLLLL OH MY WORDD . cos ok. theres two perspectives on it and the first one fits so well 4 pers nd his whole mindset

so the first interpretation of losing dogs is that its a toxic relationship in which the narrator knows is truly Over they still find themselves flocking back to it !! they know they cannot win/cant have a happy ending but still believe in their partner/the losing dog. which fits pers soooo much bc he views the gangs/gunners attempts at helping him (2 me i think theyd b understanding of how he has little capability of violence left within him < teef nd claws . which were key parts of his fighting as well as him being unable to hold a gun properly anymore, which in his mind renders him as a useless, worn down weapon in desperate need of termination) as them pouring time and valuable resources into a hopeless cause, aka HIM !!!

the second interpretation is that the dog, being a person you love deeply, is fighting a conflict (either a physical or mental one) that you see them succumbing to but cannot interfere with. and in spite of how dire it looks for them you cant help but long for them to and bet on them Winning. and when they (inevitably) lose, you lose along side them!! you process the same pain they do as well. nd when youre asked why you bet on them despite them constantly losing, you answer you bet on losing dogs because YOU need the things you give them. you need someone to look at you and give you unconditional love and benefit of the doubt. you need someone with unwavering and unshakable faith in you and your ability to succeed despite the fact you seemingly almost always lose. and when you DO fail, they wont abandon you, and will remain by your side as you writhe in pain even though youve caused them hardship. you bet on the losing dog because youre seeking a promise in it- the promise that theyll be by your side even when you fail in the same way. even when youre the losing dog . this is persgunner coded 2 me

also umm. sily doodle

[queen-mihai]

I...

It happened again. Every few months someone reblogs this and..I mean I do have an update for all of you

My.. I'm not even sure how to start. There's a lot of good. A lot of weird. Like every few months my life looks nothing like it used to. But..I guess just, let me do the update

First a reminder that I legit only do these updates if it's been a few months and somebody reblogs this post randomly. I sometimes forget it even exists and then suddenly I'm hit with a reminder that some people actually do kinda give a crap how I'm doing. Or at least they're somewhat invested in my story just for fun

Fame...I.. look for some reason I still kinda don't feel it. Like, at Pride, I had to admit it because people asked for my autograph, and I became friends with a singer, and people kept stopping me to tell me how I inspired them. That was amazing, and never in a million years would I believe I was entitled to that kind of treatment.

I've definitely noticed that whenever I go out, if I'm able to tell people I'm coming, more people come out

But like at the same time.. it's not like any of these people are talking to me. That's the weird part of it for me. Like, a bar will be packed, unexpectedly busy following an announcement of my arrival, but still no one talks to me.

Furthermore, no one ever seems to have heard of me either, unless of course they happen to have been present at Pride. So...idk. am I famous? I guess if I'm asking, the answer is obvious, like when I was asking "am I a girl?"

Relationships. I mean..I have partners. Real, loving, lasting partners I've been with for, let's say a few updates now. But I'm still incredibly lonely because for the life of me I can't find someone to cuddle with who happens to live in the same town as me. Pride had like 2000 people present. I know I'm not the only queer person here. Don't worry, literally my partners understand.

Speaking of the local town, one disturbing thing I've run across, I'll have to say it kind of in code. I'll meet someone who is excited to hang out with me, but by the end of the night, I'll find out that they're involved in... things I can't be near.

They're... trying to find a temporary escape from reality if you will. I work as an engineer. When I see that lying on someone's table I turn around and walk out, I don't care how rude it is of me to do so.

Let's just say the appropriate people have been notified and I'm hoping they'll be very interested to help out.

I guess I'm temporarily glad I don't have a local partner if there's a risk of being anywhere near any of that anyway.

My book. Oh so I talked to a publisher about re-publishing in Norway (and using my real name). The price they gave me was 4 times what they had quoted before. I have not used that service, but I have a line on another that I intend to call asap

Events, I'm planning a festival in January but I haven't set up the meeting to dicuss it with all of the business people yet. I'll tell you how far I get on next update since I'm certain before January someone will have reblogged this again

Engineering: I came back off sick leave and.. some things are different. Some things are annoyingly the same. It's enough, barely.

But

I have to try to move into a new place because the landlord saw how much the rent has risen and wants to cash in "wants the house back to live in it"

Why does that go here? Because the houses for rent around me are expensive enough to eat up the raise I got this year and then some

Politics: I'm throwing my weight behind Kamala Harris, with a strong side-eye that she needs to recognize Palestine as a country AND stop giving a moron weapons to commit genocide.

It's not enough to say the words "two state solution"

The country. Is called. PALESTINE. SAY IT. And stop every shipment of weapons to that area. Reroute them to Ukraine if anything. Send food and aid to Palestine.

But yeah I'm still voting for her. I'm just going to keep putting my boot in her butt every time I get a chance.

Oh another thing about my book. Look I'm awful at selling things. I really am. I always feel guilty. It's not just sales for money, it's anything that makes me look too good. I get really self conscious and start reminding people that I can't juggle. But like, that said, I kinda really need and want people to start reading The Master's Quest

It's like.. kinda secretly making me sad that I'm this bad at selling that after nearly 4 years still no one knows what the book is even about

Yet another reason I don't feel particularly famous. I mean... if I was, people would know what my book was about and I wouldn't have a Fandom in the single digits

Not that I am entitled to more than that. Who am I even? Don't mind me.

Lastly how I'm doing

Well

I'm doing OK. Things are complicated right now, thus the more serious and sober update. Things are also extremely good. I've never felt so surrounded by love in my entire life. I just.. wish I had someone to share it with. I'm happy to have my job. I'm happy to have my book and the people who follow me and the people who love me. I'm happy to have "The Master's Quest: Meet Annabella", I'm happy to be throwing a festival, I'm happy to have had the dates I've had, I'm happy to keep making friends, and I'm waiting for some paperwork to come through and trying to be patient about that. But even with that, I'm happy to be in Norway and am looking forward to the future.

Oh!!! My transition! Holy mackerel I almost forgot

I... just live my life as a woman now. I still smile every time I see my face in the mirror. And... hmm..a polite way to say this..I also smile when I look a few inches below my chin. Those are coming in quite nicely and my best friend called me "she" the other day on the phone and I almost cried. He just... it was as if he'd known me as a girl forever.

I've started to be more out and actually tell people that I prefer she/her, and my bosses and most people that I meet are only happy to do so.

I'm a girl. Still very femme. Still very muscular. And I love everybody. Especially you. You reading this. I love you

You know the great thing about my Tumblr?

I'm invisible. Nobody sees me. I'm essentially talking to the void. This will get no notes.

Watch this:

I'm trans. I'm a girl and I'm SUPER bisexual. I like everybody. Girls are hot. Guys are hot. NBs are hot. Trans people are hot. I like to dress and act and be really super girly and I love flirting with people. It doesn't matter cuz this will get zero notes just like everything else I post on here.

Screw it. I'm not even done

This is me. A black trans bisexual.

I wrote an Ace/Aro person into my book. A trans person too. And one of the guys is gay. He literally has a big flirting scene with a guy in the book. It's pretty strongly suggested that they banged. As the author I can tell you; they did. It's the only sex scene even hinted at in the book and it's gay af.

Wanna know a secret? I think I've been in bed with a famous person. It's so crazy because I'm so terrible at famous people there's no way I'd have known who he was unless he straight up told me. But I did get the inkling he was somebody important by him talking about his soho apartment in New York. And the fact that he was staying in one of the nicest and most expensive hotels in Houston at the time.

And yes,bbtw. I was not aware of my being trans yet. And he was a man. This was a gay interaction. A very gay interaction. I'm bi. But you don't care cuz you're not even reading this.

Anyway yeah I love Tumblr. Nobody notices me

[pen-observing]

Hi! If you will have any inspiration about this

What do you think would be little things that brothers would bring you as courting you? As like birds or penguins with rocks and sticks?

Thank you 💜

sjdaj this was fun! i did have an image of lucifer bringing feathers as a meme in my mind for a sec

what the brothers bring you while courting you/wanting to impress you:

Lucifer:

He is what many would consider to be a classic idea of a man. Tall, dark, handsome with refined taste. Because of this he tries to be refined in what he brings you as well. Why should you two not share such traits?

Lucifer because of this relies on the extravagant, classic choices. Most of all – jewelry.

Rings, necklaces, bracelets – everything he sees while out on an errand that catches his eye.

He also tries to match some items with you. He has a golden pen, why shouldn’t you have one as well?

However, one thing that gets in his way is that: no matter how strong his impulse to buy or obtain rare jewels is – he cannot always give them to you.

He overthinks it.

‘if I give them two rings two weeks in a row, would that be too much? Would they then spend money to buy an outfit that matches it? Would the gifts lose their meaning if I don’t space them out? If I continue to give them so many gifts, they would feel responsible to return them so they would spend more money on me and we both know that I am the one who has more money so--’

All these thoughts come to him. Sometimes Lucifer even thinks that your pride would be hurt if he gives you jewels so often.

He tries not to go overboard but he knows that there is a whole desk drawer of little boxes just waiting for the right time to go to you.

Mammon:

No matter how much Mammon may chase gold and sparkles – he is no Lucifer and there is no way that he can just rely on jewels.

Sure, on very special occasions he manages to surprise you with them and that does make it more meaningful.

Mammon puts aside everything else and actually gets a job whenever your birthday is close.

So what else could be bring you?

He is well aware of how birds bring branches or rocks – how sometimes they even spend so much time flying high above and continuously dropping walnuts for others on the road until they crack. His approach is similar.

When you have issues or need to open something – he always offers himself.

It is a bit silly but being there for someone counts.

Besides this – every trinket that he sees somehow ends up in your room

Plushies, fun masks, nail polish that matches his, a leaf that fell in his hair while he was sleeping under a tree and dreamt of you.

He also brings postcards, magazines, photos you might enjoy.

Once he brought you a heart shaped stone and bragged about how his keen eye managed to observe it in the clean river!

Something in every corner of your room will be adjacent to him.

“What if I brought you branches?” “What?” “Nothing!”

He just wanted to ask!

Leviathan:

Lucifer is impulsive in buying just one thing, Levi, however, is impulsive all around.

And that impulsivity goes in many directions.

He is able to use and calculate all his Akuzon points to make sure that you get 10 products instead of just 1.

He takes it very, very seriously.

Sometimes he buys you way too many snacks, other times he orders 5 costumes

Often his courting relies on the thought; what if we shared this!

His mind says that the more you have in common the better match you are.

This is why he brings matching keychains or slippers or even computer backgrounds and mousepads.

He still knows that ‘matching’ does not fully count but it really warms his heart when he sees that you are willing to share and indulge in those small things that would not really matter to others.

It gives him a confidence boost and reassures him that you are in fact open to him.

However, something still has to be yours alone.

Yours alone, from his hands and he needs to make sure of that.

Levi does bring you pearls like penguins do.

And he did in fact spend a long time underwater making sure he brings the best ones.

Just... never show him the video that trended of a female penguin cheating on her partner in the human world.

Satan:

Satan, no matter how much he tries to deny it, is in many ways similar to Lucifer.

He might dress the way he does but he tries to be a classic gentleman in this regard.

He does bring jewelry too – however he never brings it without a deeper, more profound reason.

‘so what if this ring is rare? What does it matter to them? Nothing.’

He has to hear you say it is very pretty to give it to you.

The necklace needs to remind him of your eyes or he is not buying it at all.

Because of this – he is very picky so few gifts are of this nature.

What else does he bring?

Satan writes you notes all the time.

Sometimes they are there to remind you of water or meals, other times they are short quotes.

In fact, he brings you annotated books; lines that remind him of you; quotes of feelings he knows thanks to you.

He brings you parts of himself and looks for parts of you in everything.

This is his idea of courting.

And don’t be surprised to get letters (wax made by him) under your door even if you live close by.

Asmodeus:

Unlike the others, Asmo has no problems with giving you whatever his own impulse says to.

Why should he hide these 2 perfumes that he bought thinking of you and wait for 3 weeks to present them to you?

No, do it right then and there because your heart felt the love or do not do it at all!

Because of this, his impulse costs a lot. Only second to Lucifer.

Asmo wants to give you luxurious things but he knows that jewelry alone can get boring rather fast and is limited by time and fashion and practicality etc.

So he gives you luxury in everything.

New lines of fragrance are yours as well as his, new skin care products that few humans can buy just show up at your door.

Does he also give you framed photos of him? Yes

Does he give you best silk? Also yes.

Why should the two of you not enjoy these things? You deserve it after all.

Still, Asmo is very sentimental too.

He gifts you photo albums of things that make him feel so. Memories of trips and walks; of sleepovers and quiet nights as well.

Yes, luxury is there but this small pretty pen is cheap and has hearts on it! He simply has to give it to you!

Beelzebub:

Beelzebub knows the ‘proper’, ‘correct’ or expected ways to court someone.

He knows what gifts others give and why.

But, all of that seems slightly...like vanity or showing off to him.

It just wouldn’t feel right to give you a framed work of art or color stones that glimmer if it does not really awake something.

His gifts are as gentle as him.

Yes, food is the most obvious choice but he really does worry if you are eating well because humans are fragile.

Flowers that he sees in shops or on walks.

While once walking with Luke he saw some and said how pretty they would look on you. Luke taught him to make flower crowns for that reason.

Most of his gifts are handmade.

He wants to help you on his own no matter what.

The most consistent gifts however are those that you said you needed.

Doesn’t matter when you said it or how, maybe it was just a passing thought, but he remembers and he gets them for you.

Belphegor:

it wouldn’t be wrong to say that he manages to mix up all of these ways and refuses to settle down on just one type.

This is because he is similar to Beel.

Beel gives you thinks you said you needed; Belphie gives you those you did not even notice.

He is constantly observing you and being as smart as he is – nothing escapes him.

You don’t have to complain how you grew bored of your boots or how annoying those headphones are.

He just notices it and gives you new ones.

Sometimes he looks at you during a party in Diavolo’s castle and things that a necklace is missing and would actually be useful in the future as well; so, he buys it.

Books for assignments you are not aware you will need next year find their way to your table. Yes, it is a year but he is a published Devildom scholar so trust him with this.

Paintings, matching rings with stars, a keychain of some small alien from a human TV show etc.

He treads the lines of outlandish with luxury and simple.

Seeing you surprised no matter what because you never mentioned these things always brings him joy.

a/n: how tf do you spell jewelry is it this or jewellery or i hate his word pls

[rammwhy]

New York Kiss | cc!Jschlatt drabble

summary: You and Schlatt go out for a drive and some pizza, and it leads to something more.

pairing: cc!Schlatt x gn!reader

tags/warnings: technically consensual but non-verbal? not sure if that warrants a warning but just in case :) | fluff

notes: first fic I've written in a very long time and first fic ever posted on tumblr! I've just been reading a lot of schlatt drabbles lately and wanted to write one myself! The ending feels a bit rushed imo, but I'm still pretty proud of this.

Inspired by the song New York Kiss by Spoon. Also, the bonus at the end is purely just crack entertainment, take it as you will lol

words: 721

New York kiss.

Kinda cliche, huh? I never imagined this would happen; that I would be here, underneath the neon signs, kissing you in the night.

You, my best friend and roommate of 3 years. The guy I never thought I would get along with, because I thought you were so brash and loud and rude--and you were. Honestly I only ever put up with you because Ted liked you, and you happened to have a spare room.  

But then I learned about you.

You, who sends an incessant amount of gibbon monkey videos at 3 in the morning, just because you like them and you think I'll like them too. You, who always gets so excited when someone matches you in Mario kart, no matter how much you pride yourself in being the "drift king." You, who drove all the way out in the dead of the night to come pick me up when I was scared and alone, who listens to me ramble about the most trivial things, who gives the warmest hugs when all I can feel is the cold, who lets me know that I'm enough.

You, you, you.

All I can feel is you.

You're gentle when you kiss me, lips soft and slow with your hand lightly caressing my face. It's like you're scared to hurt me--like you're cradling a delicate flower in your hands. Needless to say, a stark contrast from how you present yourself.

This wasn't supposed to happen. We were visiting your home city, that was it; a fun vacation with the rest of the group. Ted and Charlie were back at the airbnb, saying they were too tired to go out and do anything else. But I was bored and hungry, and we still hadn't gone to that pizza place you love so much. So, you being you, took me out for a late night drive.

Spoon and alt-j played in the background as we talked and talked until all I could think about was how happy you make me. Even when there was a lull in the conversation, we were comfortable and content, just sitting in each other's presence as we passed mundane streetlights. Talks like these were what I loved most.

And then we were here--stomachs full of classic New York pizza as we walked beneath the neon signs. After much arguing and bickering (and a few annoyed looks from the restaurant owner), we split the bill and scurried out of the place, giggling like a couple of high schoolers. What we found so funny I'll never really know, but we were drunk with joy, and that was enough.

We did what we came here for, but neither of us wanted to leave just yet. So, we walked. And as we walked, I noticed you had a soft look in your eyes; one that would grow and twinkle whenever you laughed. I was... enamoured, to say the least. And, maybe it showed, because you stopped walking and took my hand, and I looked up into your eyes.

I don't know what it was--a spark, a snap--but without even saying a word, we both just knew.

And then you kissed me. And I kissed you.

-

Bonus:

When you and Schlatt had come back to the airbnb, completely lovesick and hand in hand, the first thing Charlie and Ted did was... well, yell.

"Wow, took you long en-oH MY GOD!" Charlie exclaimed, pointing at your joined hands in shock? Fear? Excitement?

The two of you quickly pulled away, wincing at the sheer volume your friend had just produced. The both of you, having been so caught up in the initial romance of it all, hadn't quite decided how to tell the boys--if at all.

Charlie seemed to have decided for you, though.

"What is with the yelling?" Ted asked, making his way to the entrance and seeing Charlie pointing between you and Schlatt. "What are you pointing at?" All that came out of Charlie's mouth were incoherent exclamations, accompanied by more jabbing of his finger towards you two.

"THEM?? HANDS??? WHAAAA????" He managed to say, though barely understandable. Ted, however, was a fairly observant man. Processing Charlie's words, aggressive finger jutting, and the singular hands behind each of your backs, he let out a gasp.

"YOU GUYS ARE DATING?"

©rammwhy 2022 please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my work anywhere without my permission | reblogs are ok!

[demcnsinmymind]

bitchheroine​:

Complete chaos could also easily describe Hell. While the wealthiest demons enjoyed the hierarchy and decorum, the masses were left in squalor and unpredictability. It was the home of eternal torment, after all. That begged the question, of course, of whether or not this man had found his… passenger, in hell. 

“tell me about it. They almost always have it coming.” Meg smirks softly, thinking of her father. He’d been completely blindsided by humans , His pride entirely denying the possibility that they could’ve ever had the upper hand. Interesting, though, to ponder who might be on his mind. Who inspires such a sharply edged ‘good riddance’?

She’s a sucker for a good story, but some of them take time to coax out. 

Her brow lifts, curious, when she gets a name. 

“Azathoth… call me Meg. Megara seems too formal.”

She chuckles. “Why…well, when I come across an obscenely powerful being, hiding in plain sight, I can’t help but ask questions. ‘Sides…like I said, it’s cold out here without friends.”

Her eyes flash yellow briefly. “So…what do you say?”

“Megara. Fancy name” he replies, giving her a nod and soft snort. “Well, nice to meet you, Meg. I’m sure it’s delighted. I’m Lance by the way. Not sure if you care or if this is a demon only type of deal.”

He thinks he’s getting his answer when she shows some more of her true colors, the color of her eyes in particular. And obscenely powerful demon inside him or not, the sight of her yellow eyes still gives him the creeps. His face visibly tenses and he starts gritting his teeth, but doesn’t really do much else. He just keeps staring back at her for a while, not sure if he’d love to have his eyes change too, just for dramatic and creepy effect as well, or if he’s glad that they don’t look like hers, that this is still his body through and through. Not that of a monster.

“I’d say if you want to talk to the thing, you might as well just ask instead of trying to coax it out with vague questions. Not really nice, y’know. Talking past me even though it’s my body you’re still talking to.”

Sure enough, it’s more than eager to talk to her, now that she’s shown off her otherwordliness. But still, it’ll always leave him somewhat cranky whenever someone tries to trigger the change of control without his say so. Not that it’s really working anymore anyway. He’s gotten fairly great at keeping it in check, and he’d like to keep it that way. Lance lets out a sigh and pushes himself away from the wall anyway, giving her a curious, yet somewhat tired frown. Because maybe, despite the crankiness, she’s still got him just as interested where this is going to go.

“For the record, I don’t think it even does the whole ‘friends’  thing. Don’t think it’s a good friend to most people at all. But hey, who am I to judge. If you want to give it a go and lay your problems bare for it...feel free. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Another pause. Another curious frown. “So you want me to dig it out, or can I keep my limbs and face to myself for the rest of the day?”