#maybe I'll actually pose more soon

[solenstelluna]

Whatever

[inbabylontheywept]

The Motherfucking Lizard King

No one at work trusts my boss. 

He's smart. He works hard. He's not trustworthy. He hasn't actually fucked anyone at work over, but he's ruined his last two marriages with affairs, and got dumped by his third fiance when he wouldn't sign a prenup. The fact that we all know this is just a hazard of working in a small town. 

Anyway: The thought process of the people in the lab is that if he screwed over his first wife, and his second wife, and was probably planning on screwing over his third wife, it would be insane for him not to screw us over. After all, what kind of idiot treats their employees better than their spouse? 

I dunno. His kind, I guess? He's had a few chances to fuck us over, and he hasn't taken them. Opposite really. When our parent company was doing furloughs, he stayed in the office almost a hundred hours, talking and talking and talking his way up the corporate ladder. And in the end, no one at our site got furloughed. 

He's pulled strings like that before. And it baffles me, right? Because it really does make zero sense. He'll move the heavens and the earth for us, but his wife and kids are afterthoughts. It feels like any moment, he's going to look into the mirror and realize how stupid that is. It feels like I'm betting on him making the same stupid mistake again, and again, and again - like it would be less cynical to believe he was, eventually, going to stab me in the back. But he hasn't yet, and as far as I can tell he's been making that mistake for close to fifteen years, and it's already cost him everything it can. If he was going to learn, he would have by now. 

So my position on him is that if he wanted to date someone I cared about, I'd warn them off. I don't trust him there. But I tentatively trust him to be my boss. Maybe one day he'll stick the knife in and twist, and everyone will say Ah, Babs, we warned you, but for now, I accept that he's doing a very predictable, very irrational thing, and I've made my peace with it. 

---

My job has glue traps. 

No one likes the glue traps, but we don't have a lot of options. Poison's banned by state law, spring traps are banned by company safety, and several non-lethal options tried in the past failed to work. The mouse problem can get pretty bad if it's ignored, and there's some real health hazards in that. Our site has never had a positive hantavirus test, thank God, but the big base about a half hour away has. That guy's gonna be on oxygen the rest of his life. 

If a mouse gets caught, we just euthanize it. But more than mice get stuck. Lizards can wander into those traps too, and the people working there have different feelings about the lizards. They don't pose nearly the same kind of risk mice do. They're chill little guys, and they keep the moths away, and they're just 

You know. They're friendly. There's something to be said about walking into a room, and hitting the light switch, and seeing two little guys on the wall start to do pushups as soon as they see you. 

People used to just euthanize the lizards too, but I had pet leopard geckos as a kid and I couldn't take that so I wound up googling how to free animals from glue traps. Now, when a lizard gets stuck in a trap - which happens once or twice a week - I get some vegetable oil from the breakroom, and a little plastic fork, and I'll spend fifteen to twenty minutes just kind of gently prying the little guys out. 

I have a team of technicians that help me operate one of the larger machines. They're real blue collar guys, ex-airforce, and they make me look like a little kid. Being an engineer means they'll look to me as a leader sometimes, which is a wild experience. And I started helping the lizards for my own conscience, but one of the crazier consequences of it has been that it seriously boosted my leadership cred. Because those guys see me, and they go: Hey. If he's willing to fight for a lizard, he's gotta be willing to fight for me. 

I cannot overstate how nice that is. Most engineers that want to make a change to a maintenance practice, or try an upgrade, they have to work their asses off to get the techs to buy in. But I can just ask. They already trust me to do good. They know I'm new, and they know I'm not the smartest engineer in the building, but they also know I'm the one who gets lizards out of the glue traps. 

And just because of that, they're willing to follow me. 

---

My boss has a meeting every month or two. It's typically basic house cleaning stuff - reminders about routines we've gotten lazy on, and updates on future projects. Maybe some warnings about problems coming from higher up in the company.

People are, in my opinion, a bit too cynical about the meetings. It stems from people not trusting our boss, which again, I understand, because it would make so much more sense if he wasn't trustworthy. It's a testament to the man's incredibly unhealthy priorities that he is. But as we made it to the end of the meeting, one of bullet points was: 

Do NOT mess with animals in the building. 

So I looked at my techs, and they looked at me, and when he got to the point, he was so scathing I actually just wanted to crawl under a rock and die. He said basically that he'd heard some reports about someone in the building handling animals that found their way in and got stuck, and that he just wanted to emphasize how insanely inappropriate that was, not to mention dangerous, and that if he needed to speak to anyone about it again, there would be severe consequences. 

I was willing to just take the shame and move on. I was. But one of my techs is old. Old enough he could've retired two years ago. And his actual literal goal is to one day get angry, yell at someone, and storm out. That's how he wants to retire. So instead of biting his tongue like everyone else, he stood up and said: I hate the glue traps. You hate the glue traps. We all hate glue traps. But we've all sat here for years, ignoring the little things that get stuck in them, watching them die, and then Bab's comes in, and he is the first person in decades to give enough of a shit to start pulling the lizards out. And I don't want him to stop. 

Get humane traps or shut up but we are not going back to the old way of just letting things starve. 

And my boss actually froze up. He got all wide eyed and stared at Marc, and then the other techs jumped in, and there was a very small but intense rebellion in the meeting and my boss kept trying to interrupt while getting absolutely bowled over by this gang of angry middle aged air force vets, and eventually he just went 

I will speak with Babylon about this afterwards! After! And then he will speak with everyone else, but I have more points to cover. 

So they went silent, and my boss rushed through the last five minutes, and we all adjounred. The techs really didn't like that I was going in alone - they thought our boss was going to try and shout me into compliance. Marc in particular was like, Look, if he tries bullying you, stand your ground, and if he threatens anything, just come get us, and we'll give him hell. 

So armed with that, I went to my boss's office. I sat in the chair across from him, and he kept his composure for maybe five seconds before just flopping back into his chair. 

I had no idea you were saving lizards, he said, but I'm glad you are. I always hated seeing them die in the glue.  

I wasn't expecting that. I was about to ask him what the comment from the meeting was about then, but he answered that before I even got the chance.

A snake got into the building last week, and - someone picked it up and chased a coworker around. Turns out that coworker was severely afraid of snakes, and now it's a shitshow. We're a small site, and now I can't ask those two to work together anymore, to say nothing about how the snake fared after all that. Being upset about that is a reasonable thing, right? 

And he gave me a look like he actually wanted an answer, so I said Yeah, totally, chasing a coworker around with a snake is a dick move. Especially if that coworker is already afraid of snakes. 

And he said Exactly! and then we sat there a few moments longer. He looked so incredibly tired that I did, actually, feel kind of bad for him. And then he somehow managed to sink even further into his chair, and said

Look, I know I'm not a good guy. But I'm not evil. I'm not some sort of crazy asshole that's going to demand that everyone watch lizards starve to death. When you go back downstairs, could you try to pass that on? That I'm not evil? 

I said Sure because it wasn't a hard request, and he looked relieved. I actually made it halfway out before I realized I had a question. 

Who grabbed the snake? I asked. 

Not supposed to talk about it, he said. But whoever comes to mind first is probably right. 

ThatGuy? I asked. And he looked me in the face, nodded his head yes, and said No. 

---

The techs seemed a little disappointed that they didn't get to storm the boss's office, but were otherwise in good spirits. They were actually a little bit embarrassed to hear about the snake story - apparently, it wasn't much of a secret. It'd just slipped their minds because it happened three weeks ago. 

We did maintenance after that, the same basic repairs we did every week. The meeting had been stressful and it was a relief to work with my hands. When the parts were reinstalled, everything cleaned and smooth and ready to go, Marc found me again. 

You know what the lesson of today is? he asked. And there were quite a few answers to that that I could have taken - from don't assume the worst of people to be careful with how you spend your trust - we all need it more than we think. 

But instead I said what? because I wanted to hear what his answer was going to be. 

That I got your back, he said. Then he clapped one very, very large hand on my shoulder, gave it a good squeeze, and walked back to dosimetry lab.

---

The next day, Marc gave me a package and told me to open it in my office. I was suspicious, but I followed the request.

Cardboard gave way to a small baggie, obviously full of fabric, which opened to reveal a t-shirt that read

"I Am the Motherfucking Lizard King."

I looked at it, I loved it, and then I got an idea. I went to my boss's office and knocked on the door. When he opened it, I asked him if he would be willing to allow something very unprofessional to happen for morale building purposes.

How unprofessional? he asked. I held the shirt up in answer. He gave the shirt a short look over and snorted.

You can wear it on weeks without customers, he said. Which just so happened to include that week.

I'll pass on that it came with your blessing, I replied, and he looked oddly relieved.

Thanks, he said. And then I went downstairs.

---

The techs were very, very happy to see the shirt. And while my boss's reputation remains in tatters, and probably will be until he moves (or dies), the next time there was a meeting, there was quite a bit less complaining about how mere presence. Which is, I guess, a start.

We'll see if he squanders it.

[julymusings]

PORTRAIT jason hates taking photos. it's a shame you find him so beautiful.

Jason Todd isn’t one to take pictures. Standing there with a fake smile, posing for a deceptively happy vignette of an unhappy reality feels awkward. He never knows what to do with his hands. He doesn’t like the way his face translates through the lens; the green of his eyes glows just this side of too spectral, his broad, stocky frame towers over that of his siblings, and the scars on his face bring memories of a darker time, an intentional carelessness for his life he used to carry. He leans away when others huddle together to smile. Pretends to notice something behind him when caught in the background of the lens.

Enter you. Only capable of looking at him with hearts in your eyes. Serving on a silver platter what he used to starve and scavenge for in dimly lit bars on the lips of women who only saw him as something to sink their teeth into and then spit out, never sticking around for longer than one night. Jason feasted at first, he’ll admit, stuffing himself to sickness on your unconditional adoration until it was almost too much to bear.

You take pictures of him and gush over them, telling him how pretty he is. How he belongs in a museum. He never believed you, never bothering to actually look at the pictures you take. But pretty soon he’s everywhere; you set him as your lock screen and screensaver, and print photos to frame on your bedside table. When your storage is maxed out, you steal Jason’s phone to flood his camera roll, and he finds that he keeps going back to stare at the photos you take. Selfies where you kiss his cheek and his mouth curves upward just enough to transform him from brooding to disarming; portraits where he looks, not at the camera, but just beyond and his eyes crinkle, the tips of his sharp canines peeking out over his bottom lip. He looks…different. Better. He starts to believe the things you tell him; his beauty is ancient. Michelangelo himself carved the contours of his body. The Trojans and the Greeks fought for a decade over him.

But what is it about this camera, he wonders, that makes his appearance digestible? Is it the way you frame him front and center, the backlighting sun rays extending in all directions behind him, encircling him with a holiness he doesn’t deserve? The scenery against which you capture him, busy nighttime streets under city lights, just dark enough to smooth out his rough edges? 

Or maybe it’s just you. Seeing himself from your point of view. Seeing himself as yours. His hooked nose, crooked from being broken one too many times, belongs to you for the early mornings when you trace down the bridge, around his lips, and up his jaw, drawing a portrait with your fingertips. His unruly hair, with streaks of white that make him stick out like a sore thumb, exists only for you to run your fingers through when he lays his head in your lap. His scars are for you to kiss on those difficult days until he can bear to look in the mirror again. He wants nothing more than to be a museum of all things you.

Jason Todd isn’t one to take pictures. But when you ask so nicely, showering him with compliments and promises of thank-you-kisses later on, how can he say no?

why are we as a society still striving for more definition and higher quality photos for anything other than, like, x-ray imaging and space exploration. I don't want 8k ultra-max hd in my phone that highlights every hair and pore and eye bag i want grainy and dark and fuzzy because it makes me look hotter and that's a fact. rant over

anyway he's so pretty i wanna take candids of him and kiss his face and squeeze his huge ti-*GUNSHOTS*

this is gonna be my last post for the next few weeks because i have finals. see you on the other side🫡 (born to be a farmer on a remote island, forced to study STEM) i'll be on requests as soon as i'm back trust

[bigfan-fanfic]

My Blooming Rose (Enchantress' Child!Reader x Ben Florian)

@iliumheightnights Hi friend! May I please request a little story? I'd love to read a story about Ben Florian dating a son of the enchantress reader. Reader still is learning magic and Ben helps him when he can and encourages him? All the fluff please?

In some respects, no one would necessarily blame your boyfriend's father for wanting to imprison your mother on the Isle of the Lost.

She did, after all, enchant a young, albeit spoiled, prince and condemn him (an eleven-year-old, mind you) to ten years of suffering and self-loathing in a body not his own.

But no. King Adam and his Queen would never have met if not for the Enchantress.

Besides, they learned well from the example of Queen Leah and King Stefan - don't piss off the magical entity in close proximity.

And so the Enchantress lived within Auradon, and you, her child, were born.

You're not sure you quite approve of the whole Isle of the Lost thing - your mother's punishments tended to get to people before they became irredeemable, so the idea of endless incarceration seems harsh, even by her standards.

But all the same, you are invited to Auradon Prep, mainly to study with the Fairy Godmother to hone your talents in magic. And since you aren't expected to enter a royal line, you don't even have to do some of the more inane Auradon courses.

But who would have thought that without any magic at all, you'd have ensorcelled the heart of Prince Ben.

Ben is just a spot of sunshine in your world, he's so affectionate and lovely.

And supportive!

He's figured out the loophole in the rule that he can't spend all his free time with you by organizing "study dates" in addition to normal dates.

But since magical homework and study is pretty involved, that just means he hangs around in your dorm with you more often than not.

Not that either of you mind.

Except this can sometimes lead to minor mishaps.

You're practicing a spell in the mirror, meant to help disguise someone by changing their appearance.

Focusing on your hair, trying to lengthen it just a little. Just a small test.

But then Ben leaps up to kiss you on the cheek and you wave the training wand just a little haphazardly-

And Ben gets a face-full of your magic.

"Oh my gosh, Ben! Are you okay?"

"Yup!" Ben groans from the floor. "Nothing broken. I think."

He hops back up to his feet, and you gasp.

Your boyfriend's smooth jaw has sprouted patchy growths of hair that are still thickening until they make a rather nice beard and mustache. "Ben... I..."

Ben sees himself in the mirror and grins. "Oh, this is nice!"

"It was an accident."

"If even your accidents are this great, you're gonna be a better wizard than Merlin!" Ben pats your shoulder before stroking his new beard. "It's not even scratchy!"

You blush. "You look really good with a beard."

"Do I look kingly?" Ben asks eagerly, striking a pose.

"You do, but let's try and find a counterspell quickly. Accidental magic tends to corrupt pretty fast. You might end up with the hair changing colors like a chameleon or something."

"That actually sounds kinda-"

"And then I wouldn't be able to see where to kiss you."

Ben instantly gets serious. "Let's hit the books."

"But uh... when you do reverse the spell... Maybe try it on purpose? I wanna see what kissing with a beard is like."

You grin. "Oh really? Why?"

"Cause when you're my Royal Consort, I'll probably grow out a beard and kiss you all the time, so... I wanna see what I'm working toward."

You laugh and then squeeze his hand. "In that case, let's get this thing reversed as soon as we can."

"Love you. My blooming rose."

"Love you. My noble king."

[flowercrowngods]

based on this post, because at this point i think it's safe to say @unclewaynemunson is actually my muse or something (hi anna i hope this is okay even though it’s, like, way angsty and way too long huh)

🤍 also on ao3

Two days after Starcourt, concussed and beaten, Steve has a seizure.

His ears are still ringing when the doctor gives him a stern glance over the rim of his glasses and pronounces him unfit to drive. No, in fact, he claims Steve poses a real danger to himself and others if he sat behind a wheel again.

Immediately, Dustin and Robin jump to promising that they won't let him do that, and in another life Steve is sure he would be grateful, or at least reasonable about it, but in this one he has a horrible second where the floor falls out from under him and he wishes, for just one second, that his head had been shaken a bit more, just enough to–

It makes him nauseous even thinking that. Everything does, lately. He closes his eyes against the offensive brightness of the hospital room and lets the sound of Dustin's and Robin's voices wash over him as he takes a moment to really take in what the doctor's orders entail.

He can't drive anymore. No more late night drives to watch the street lights pass and lull him into a safer state of mind than his bedroom walls could. No more driving the kids to their DnD sessions, no more taking Robin anywhere at the drop of a hat, no more bickering, no more reign over the music, no more stern glances through the rearview mirror, no more "Shut up, Wheeler, or you're leaving the car."

No more "Thanks, Steve!", no more "I'll bring some of mom's cookies if you drive us to the arcade", no more "You're the best" or "You're a lifesaver" or "I owe you one".

No more place for him in the group, no more use for him, no more...

No more. Nothing. Now he's just Steve, would-be lifesaver, 'has-been babysitter', 'could-have-been somebody until he lost his license to drive because he wasn't quick enough, wasn't good enough, wasn't strong enough'. Just Steve.

He doesn't know how to be that. Who is Steve Harrington without his car, without the one thing he was good for anymore?

The pit in his chest is deep enough, dark enough to pull him in, and for a moment the very thing he is good for is misery.

He waits until a nurse makes everyone leave for the night, and then he cries. It makes his head hurt, pressure building behind his eyes, but he's used to being in more pain than any teenager should be in, so he curls in on himself and hides underneath the blanket.

Here's to hoping the others won't notice just how useless he is now. Not too soon, anyway. He wants another month. A painless month filled with laughter and hugs, and then they're free to leave, to pull back slowly. Calls unanswered, radio channels changed so he won't reach them, sheepish apologies and rain checks, because now Nancy will drive them. Or Jonathan. Hell, maybe Max will take the risk just to avoid him.

---

He gets a week of daily visits in the hospital, the doctors and nurses insisting on keeping him here, a watchful eye on his vitals, scanning his head three times during his stay, insisting he has head trauma of a severely worrying degree.

Nancy picks him up from the hospital and it's awkward, tense, too much left unsaid between them but there's no one else to do it. Steve's hands are shaking, gripping the seatbelt the whole way home – and then his heart falls when he sees his Beemer in the driveway. The glorious, trusty, wonderful, best fucking car anyone could wish for. His baby. His.

He throw up into the brushes when he realises that he won't get to take it on one last ride. Maybe he shouldn't be so attached to a car. Maybe he's being pathetic about it. At least he can explain away the fat tears in his eyes now, and Nancy doesn't press.

The first thing he does when Nancy is gone is calling Robin, and she's excited when she says, "I'll come right over!" and Steve wants to ask, how, but he keeps his mouth shut, biting his lip. It's stupid, but the thought of someone else driving Robin over makes his skin crawl.

"Alright," he says instead, his voice raspy, and he hangs up before she can detect something in his voice.

After that, he goes outside again and runs his hand along his Beemer. It's shining in the sun; he had it cleaned the other week, the full program, every step in the book to celebrate four years since he got her.

"Four years, huh," Steve says, his nail catching on a minor scratch that isn't even visible but might be more familiar to him than even his home. "Damn good four years."

He's talking to his car. God, it's so stupid, it's so stupid, it's so stupid–

Steve's knees give out and he gives in to the desire that's burning under his skin sometimes, the desire to just sit down and ignore the world. Because everything is less real when you're sitting down somewhere you're not meant to be, and the ground is warm, and Steve just wants the world to go. His head is leaning back against the warm metal of the driver's door, and he closes his eyes for a while, his head still spinning, his ears still ringing, everything still awful.

After a while, there’s a shadow followed by a weight settling down between him, a head landing on his shoulder, a hand taking his.

"I'm so sorry, Stevie," Robin says. The lack of dingus makes it more real, somehow. More tragic. More pathetic.

"I'll live." And it feels a bit like a lie.

---

He gets his month. A month filled with barbecues in his backyard, the kids coming by after school to check on him, and Robin has practically moved in. Joyce picks him up on Friday nights for dinner at their house for a change of scenery.

It’s a good month, though Steve feels trapped. Caged. A bird without his wings, a boy without his car. Steve without his one purpose, the one thing he was good for. He has to be picked up because they don’t trust him walking, or they have to come to his place. And soon the worried glances that are thrown his way are too much, caging him further, reminding him of what this is. A pity party — quite literally. No one trusts him anymore, there’s always someone jumping to help him, not caring or listening to his protests.

And he can’t leave, because “What if you have a seizure in your room?”

It makes him want to scream.

Maybe it shows, or maybe everyone’s just fed up with him now that he can’t provide his taxi services anymore, but after summer the Byers dinners stop and the kids pull away.

“Told you that’s all I’m good for,” Steve says with a mean, pained huff as he hangs up the phone. Claudia said Dustin isn’t home, but he could hear the kids in the background. It hurts more than it should.

“What is?” Robin asks from her place on the floor with her back against the wall.

“Nothing.”

She frowns. “Come on, dingus, you can’t start and then—“

“No, I mean it. Nothing. That’s what I’m good for now that I can’t drive them anymore.”

“Bullshit!” she says, and it comes out so harsh that it makes Steve flinch. He swallows. Right. Robin isn’t hear to listen to him whine about how he feels like he has no place in this town, in this group, in this life anymore now that his head is so fucked up he can’t even be trusted to live alone.

That’s why Robin is here, right?

The babysitter becomes the babysitted… or something.

She doesn’t care, not really. She doesn’t listen. She doesn’t ask.

“Steve, they’re kids.”

“Yeah, well. So am I.”

He turns away from her and ignores the tears threatening to fall. The door to his room falls shut and he would love to lock it just to make a point to the world at large, a point that it can’t shut him out if he shuts himself in, but he knows it’s too risky. If he has a seizure, Robin needs to get in.

He can’t even stay in his room alone without supervision anymore. What kind of a fuck-up is he becoming, where does it end? He’s already managed to chase away the kids, even Dustin only checks on him sporadically anymore, and it hurts. He wants to know why, wants to know what he did, how to take it back, how to get them back.

But then he remembers how it all started. Dustin needed a ride and someone to take a beating. Both of which he can’t do anymore without risking life and death of himself and others. He’s a safety hazard. He’s useless. He’s Steve fucking Harrington, which doesn’t mean anything anymore.

---

And then it’s spring, and Chrissy Cunningham is found dead in Eddie Munson’s trailer. The group is back together again, the Party assembled once more. And Steve, for a just one second, hopes that he can get it right this time, that he can do this again. One last time. Because Vecna slash Henry slash One surely is it.

But then they turn on him — even Eddie looks confused, which is a rather adorable look on him — the moment Steve tries to get a word in.

“You’re not coming with us, Steve.” That’s Dustin, and Steve just rolls his eyes, but then Robin joins in.

“Yeah, no, I’m with the gremlin on this, dingus.”

“Hey!”

“Oh shut it, Henderson.” She turns to him, her eyes softer but no less burning another hole inside Steve. “We can’t risk it, Steve.”

“Risk what?” It’s a challenge. His shoulders squared, his jaw clenched, he’s challenging her, and it’s cruel.

She holds his eyes, her expression icy, like he’s stupid. “We can’t risk you dying. We can’t risk you getting a seizure mid-fight or just by being in the Upside Down.”

“Hey, woah,” Eddie tries to get a word in, but Steve won’t hear him as the desperation, the loneliness, the feeling of being caged like a bird and still the only human left on a desolate planet, all that breaks free.

“We all know that dying in a fight is the only thing I’m good for anyway.”

The silence among their war council, as Max dubbed it, is deafening.

“What?” Lucas sounds small when he asks that, and Steve closes his eyes. He hadn’t meant for him to hear that. Any of them, actually. They weren’t supposed to know.

“Steve, that’s not true.” Dustin’s words are filled with disbelief and worry, and Steve hates the worry, it makes his skin crawl, it makes his heart race, it makes his fists clenched and it makes him want to scream again.

“What else then, huh?” he asks weakly. “What else is there? None of you even talk to me anymore since Starcourt. Since summer.”

“Because you were pulling away,” Nancy explains, though her words are weak and her mouth clicks shut when Steve looks at her.

“Because we’re scared.” Max this time, and Steve doesn’t want to look at her, doesn’t want to tell a child that she’s not allowed to be scared for him— not more than he is, anyway. It doesn’t make sense for him to be hurt. They don’t want him to die. That’s a good thing, right? They didn’t want to see him hurt, so they looked away. It makes sense.

But it also hurts.

Steve shakes his head and pinches the bridge of his nose before all but running from the trailer. He doesn’t make it far (“Stay close so we won’t have to worry”), just needs some fresh air and to sit down somewhere the world will become a bit less real again.

The stairs it is. He tries to breathe through the lump in his throat, clenching and unclenching his hands to get rid of the anger and the hurt and all that excess energy.

He doesn’t want to die, is the thing. The very thought makes him nauseous and panicky. He wants his life back. His car. The freedom to just jump in there and get away. He doesn’t want the cage or the worry or the hovering or the loneliness when he isolates himself from all that.

Face buried in his hands, Steve almost misses it when someone comes to sit beside him. The thick smell of leather and cigarettes tells him who it is without looking up.

Eddie doesn’t speak for a while, just sits with him as Steve calms down.

And then, after a while, he lights a cigarette and asks, “You get seizures, Harrington?”

Steve nods. “Sometimes.”

Eddie hums. “That sucks.”

He nods again, and then that’s that. But even though it was a rhetorical question and Eddie didn’t even need an answer, it feels pathetically good to be asked about something. About himself. It only makes the pit inside his chest deeper, cutting into his soul with a sharp edge, this tiny little moment of normalcy. He wants to cling to it. He wants to talk to Eddie. God, he hasn’t really talked to anyone in so long.

“Before Starcourt — remember, the mall? The fire? Yeah that was, uhm. More monster shit. And Russians who thought I was a spy and then… yeah. Anyway. Uh. We used to be friends, I think. The kids and I. They used to care — or I like to think that they did. And then I got one too many head injuries, and the seizures started, and then they… It became too much. For them, for me. And the caring stopped. And, like, it’s fine or whatever, but I still care, and I can’t let them do all that alone. I know that all I was good for was taking them somewhere with my car, but I can’t drive anymore, so now I’m just… I’m just Steve. No titles attached, no use or function or point.”

Eddie just stares at him, puzzled and intrigued and even a little sad, and Steve wants to laugh it off when the silence stretches.

“Sorry, that’s kind of a sob story, you—“

“Wait here,” Eddie says, stubbing out his cigarette before disappearing back into the trailer. Steve watches him with a confused frown but stays put. A minute later, the door flies open and a scandalised looking Max appears, followed by the rest of the crew.

“You what?!”

“Uh,” Steve blinks. “I what?”

“Eddie told us you think you’re useless and that we don’t like you and that all you were ever good for is driving us from A to B with, like, no personal value whatsoever,” Dustin fills in, sounding no less bewildered. “Is that true, Steve?”

And God, the kid is so good at making all his questions sound like dares that Steve instinctively wants to swallow and negate it, tell them that Eddie misheard, that he’s fine, that everything fine.

But then Robin’s whispered little, “Steve” stops him from doing that. In fact, the sadness and confusion on their faces makes the dams break once more, confronted with months of spiralling and no one to drag him out, no one to listen.

Tears spring to his eyes and he gets up from the stairs to properly face them. He shrugs. It’s as much of a confirmation as anything.

And then Dustin sprints forward and tackle-hugs him, burying his face in Steve’s chest with no intention to let go anytime soon.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles into Steve’s shirt and Steve runs a hand through his hair immediately.

“It’s okay, Dustin.”

“No! It’s fucking not okay, Steve, stop saying that. You’re my big brother, you’re my best friend, you’re my hero! You’re the coolest guy I know and nothing’s gonna change that, okay?”

“Then why’d you leave?” His voice is so small, but Dustin only hugs him tighter.

“Because you were hurting and I was… I feel like all of that is my fault.”

“Why would it be your fault, Dustin?”

He shrugs, and it breaks Steve’s heart. Dustin thinks everything is his fault just like Steve thinks it’s his.

“It’s me who got you into the thing with the Russians. I insisted. And you were tortured for it, Steve! You… You told us to go, and we did, and then we came back and you were— you-“

“Hey,” Steve whispers, curling himself around and over Dustin. “Hey, no, it’s okay. It’s not your fault. None of that.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“I’m sorry I pulled away, Steve,” Dustin sniffles and looks up at him. “I swear it’s not because I think you’re useless. It’s just… I’m so scared.”

And it makes sense, somehow. The anger leaves Steve when he whispers, “Me too. And I don’t like it when you’re all scared and worried. I hate it.”

“I know. Sorry.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Shut up.”

And then they’re both laughing with tears in their eyes. Lucas and Max join them with their own promises that Steve isn’t worthless to them.

“Did you read my letter? You know, the one if…”

“No,” Steve says. “You told me not to.”

“Right. Anyway, read it. Whatever happens, I want you to read it. Because you’re my brother and you mean too much for me to, like, never let you know. But, uh. Billy died. And I hated him, but it fucked me up. And then you almost died, and then you almost died again; and then you just… collapsed. And I thought, I cant do this again, not with someone I actually like. Not with you. And I didn’t wanna watch. I watched Billy. I… I can’t watch you die, Steve.”

She’s crying by the end of it, and Steve pulls her against his chest. Shit, he hadn’t meant to make anyone cry like that.

“It’s okay, Max, I get it.”

“Not okay,” she shakes her head again. “I know it’s not. But—“

“I know.” He’s stroking through her hair. “I know.”

“Uh, guys? I hate to break up the heartfelt confession time,” Eddie chimes in. “But I think our window is closing.”

Right. The end of the world.

With one last squeeze to Max’s shoulders, he lets her go and they gather their things. Discussions about Steve’s joining their mission have been put on hold while their window is still open. They can continue this later.

Nancy drives while Max holds Steve’s hand in the back. They don’t talk and she has her headphones on, letting Kate Bush work her magic, but it’s fine. It feels a bit like healing.

He catches Eddie’s eyes on the other side and holds them for a while. Eddie smiles before looking away, and Steve does the same.

---

In the end, Steve doesn't climb the rope with them. He stays behind in Eddie's trailer even though every fibre of his being screams at him to join. But Nancy has a point when she explains to him that she and Robin got this. It's the first time he stays behind, and he hopes it will be the last.

They hug him before leaving, all of them. Promises are made to talk about this later, after, and he nods.

"Go save the world for me," he tells Robin, holding her tight, unwilling to let go.

"Only for you," she promises, and kisses his cheek before pulling away. "You better be right here when we come back."

He shrugs and gives her an encouraging smile. "I've got nowhere else to be, Buckley. Now go." The last words are whispered and it feels like goodbye. Steve should join them, he should be there! But his head is pulsing and he knows that one wrong move could leave him half blind with a migraine, and they don't need one more handicap.

The one thing he can do, though, is helping them climb the rope, and it makes him feel ridiculously proud, seeing them land safely on the other side, smiling up (or down?) at him. Robin and Nancy wave one last time before heading off.

That leaves him alone with Eddie and Dustin. The latter is already climbing the rope, itching to finally do something, preparing the trailer for their plan.

Only Eddie is left, and Steve looks over at him.

"Will you be okay, Steve?"

"Sure."

Eddie sighs and looks up at the gate, disbelief and resignation and even a hint of fascination in his eyes.

"It should be you," he says, and Steve frowns, confused. "You're the hero here."

"No," Steve huffs, smiling at the metalhead. "No, I'm no hero. The real heroes are already up there, and in California. The real hero died after Starcourt. I'm just the driver who lost his license, the boy with the bat. The protector who needs to be protected."

Eddie looks at him again, that kind of intense stare, the one that shows Steve that Eddie sees something in him. He wonders what it is, but isn't sure he wants to know.

"I think you're wrong, Steve." He says it with such gentle conviction that it takes Steve's breath away for a second, and something passes between them as they hold each other's eyes.

Eddie opens his mouth to say something, but then–

"Eddie!" Dustin is calling for him from the other side, and the boys snap out of their daze.

Steve steps into Eddie's personal space and pulls him to his chest. "Make him pay," he says. "But stay safe. Come back, okay? First sign of danger, you abort mission. Come back, Eddie. I'll be right here."

"Yeah," Eddie rasps, and he squeezes Steve once more. "Catch me when I fall through that gate in two hours?"

Steve laughs, a sad little thing, and he pushes Eddie away from him, hands steady on his shoulders. "Sure, big boy."

"Hey, that's my part."

"Say it when you come back, then."

This thing passes between them again, and then Eddie goes to climb the rope. Steve's hands find their way to his hips, steadying him, but Eddie is strong enough to pull himself up without problem. Huh.

"In the meantime, wrap your head around the fact that you're the one I'm coming back for, pretty boy."

And then Eddie is gone. Steve watches as he falls through the gate, landing on the mattress with more elegance this time, and then he, too, grins down (or up?) at Steve.

He gives a little wave, and then he is alone.

Plenty of room to think when your friends have gone on a suicide mission and you're the one who has to stay behind. The one who will have to do the explaining when things go south. The one who will have to watch and listen, helpless.

It makes him regret the past few months, the self isolation, all the times he pulled back, all the times he didn't push for an explanation or a conversation, all the times he hadn't asked the kids if they're alright because he was too caught up in all the ways that he wasn't.

God, he wants them to be okay. He wants to talk about this, wants them to tell him he's more than the driver without a license, more than the protector who needs protecting. He wants Eddie to come back and explain what he meant, say what he wanted to say. He wants...

He wants his old life back. But more than that, he wants them in his new life just as much. He wants to be brave enough for this new life and find a new purpose. Create one if he can't find it.

But he can't do it alone. He refuses to do it alone even one day more.

"Come back to me," he whispers, looking up at the gate from where he's sitting on the floor, back against the wall. "Come on guys, you've got this. Please work. Please, make the plan work."

And then, miraculously, it does. Eddie falls into his arms with an undignified squeal and the rest of the Party soon follow. They're unscathed, miraculously, and Steve cries as he holds them, all of them, in a group hug that makes the trailer smell like relief and grief and a new life ahead of them. Slowly, with an unnatural sound, the gate above them closes, and then silence reigns.

They cling to him now. Refuse to let go. Good thing he has nowhere to go as Lucas gasps and sobs into his chest, explaining what happened, that Jason almost destroyed the walkman, that Max could have died. And Steve runs shaky hands through his hair, pulling in Max, too, so the three of them can just hold each other for a second.

Dustin and Eddie are hugging beside them, and Nancy and Robin hold hands, a different kind of horror in their eyes, but they smile wetly at Steve as their eyes meet.

It's over. It's done.

They did it. They really did it.

Steve closes his eyes and holds Lucas and Max tighter. They don't complain.

---

Three days later, Steve's house is brimming with life again like it hasn't in months. Turns out, Hopper survived, and he hugged Steve for a whole five minutes, telling him he did good, he did great, he's a hero. Again with that shit that Steve doesn't believe, but he doesn't have the heart to tell Hop, so he just buries deeper into their embrace.

"It's good you're alive," he tells him, and the Chief sobs out a laugh.

"You too, kid. This town would be lost without you."

"Yeah, right," Steve laughs back, and then that is that.

Except, it isn't, because when he returns to the living room with Hop, Joyce and El in tow, everyone's standing, looking at him with timid expressions. Robin and Eddie are holding hands this time, and so are all the kids. They all look like they have something to say, and the only thing missing is a large banner that says INTERVENTION.

"Uh, what's going on?"

Dustin is the first to clear his throat, but only after Erica kicks him. "We wanted to apologise. For leaving you when you needed us the most."

Oh. Steve's shaking his head, placating words already on the tip of his tongue, ready to explain to them how that's not their fault, how that was all him, he could have said something, he could have asked, he could have–

"Steve," Nancy says, effectively cutting off any protest he could have voiced. "Just listen, okay? Don't say anything."

He looks at Joyce, who nods, and Hopper who looks about as lost as he feels.

Dustin continues then. "You deserved better, Steve, you really, really did. We all did, I think, but you... You put yourself in harm's way from the get-go."

"Yeah, you came to protect me when you didn't even like me." Jonathan this time. "No thoughts, just protection. I owe my life to you. Every single one in this room does, y'know."

"And what you got for it is severe head trauma and... us abandoning you." Nancy.

"You're not just the driver, Steve. You never were just a driver to us." Hell, even Mike is in on this? "You're annoying, you suck, and you don't even try not to act like you're everyone's big brother."

"You're family, Steve." Oh, baby Byers. That's what gets his eyes stinging and his lip trembling, so he bites down on it so they won't have to see. It's futile with the way they're smiling.

"Yeah. You're so much more than our babysitter," Lucas explains. "You're the best basketball coach."

"You actually listen to my music and read comics with me," Max continues with a smile. "You suck just a little less than everyone else in this town."

"Hey!"

"No, she has a point."

Steve's not keeping up with the who's who anymore, he's trying too hard to keep it together.

"You teach me new words," El says, smiling. "You give me your clothes, you take me shopping, you teach me how to deal with meanies."

And the list goes on. Everyone has something to say to him, something beyond the ways he can be useful. Something that he is to them, something meaningful, something that sounds a lot like purpose and family.

"And we were so scared, because you were hurt. Because of us. You were protecting us, and look where it got you. You're a hero, Steve. As real as they get, you are one."

"More than Wonder Woman," Max agrees. "More than Superman. You're Steve! And that's... He’s our hero."

"He’s our brother," Dustin says.

"He’s my son," Joyce adds, taking his hand.

"He’s our friend," Erica, Mike and El say in unison.

“He’s the one we stay for.” Robin’s eyes shine as she smiles.

“And the one we come back for.” Eddie’s smile is gentle, confident, and captivating. Steve can’t look away, even through his own tears.

---

In the following months, Robin gets her license and Eddie develops a sixth sense for whenever Steve needs to just sit in a car and ride around town, watching the street lamps pass and letting them lull him to sleep. There’s an upside to being a passenger, he finds, because he falls asleep like this a few times, always waking when Eddie kills the engine. He drives for hours sometimes, admitting with a blush high on his cheeks that he didn’t want to wake Steve.

Somewhere on the highway to Indianapolis, between three and four in the morning, Steve looks at Eddie in the soft glow of the night, and finds that he’s fallen in love.

And in the weeks and months and years that follow, he realises that that’s something new he’s good at.

[afterglowkatie]

pair of pests | k.c.c.

kyra cooney-cross x reader | 1.1k | you and kyra should never be trusted together alone without supervision, especially when alcohol and a marker are involved

ˏˋ°•*⁀this is catley!reader - reader being Steph's younger sister! maybe i'll write more with this pairing bc it's quite fun to think of ideas for!

‘You ready yet loser,’ You heard your best friend call out for you since she let herself into Steph’s apartment where you had been staying since you’d moved from Manchester City to Arsenal. The Aussies internally dreading the moment you and Kyra would be reunited at club since they already had to deal with the two of you together on national camps. You always said Kyra was the fun sister you never had.

‘I’m ready!’ You posed in the hallway just outside your room, quick to pull Kyra into your room closing the door behind, ‘It’s just us tonight. Steph said something about not wanting to babysit us,’ You rolled your eyes, a light smile on your lips while you got out your little alcohol supply you had stashed away in your room.

‘Lame. Well we don’t need her to have fun,’ Kyra smirked, grabbing the vodka and shot glasses you’d pulled out. After a few shots you had an idea, taking the shot glasses and vodka out to the kitchen but demanding Kyra stays in your room. Smiling and laughing a little to yourself while you brought back the three shot glasses only one having vodka in it and the others just water.

‘Russian roulette?’ You laughed, raising your eyebrows slightly at her sitting down on the ground across from Kyra.

‘It’s not the same without a gun,’ Kyra mumbled out a little louder than expected.

‘Maybe one day,’ You casually shrugged before you both laughed out loudly knowing that would never happen. Steph would definitely intervene before the thought even got into action. She’d be able to tell something was up and stop whatever it was you were planning just by seeing the two of you share one tiny look at each other.

‘You totally got the shot! You can’t take it with a straight face to save your life,’ Kyra exclaimed laughing at the way you had scrunched your nose slightly. You did it every time and you’d been around Kyra enough that she had picked up on it.

‘Kyra,’ You whined, ‘No fair,’ 

‘Can’t help that I know my best friend better than she knows herself,’ Playfully flicking her hair behind her shoulder, making you shake your head and roll your eyes, pushing at her arm.

By the time you and Kyra even made it out of Steph’s apartment you were both a little more than tipsy, it was a surprise you even made it into anywhere. Wasting no time in grabbing drinks before you pulled your best friend out onto the floor to dance. Getting lost in the music and enjoying dancing with Kyra, only stopping when your head felt like it wouldn’t stop spinning.

Despite your head spinning you both made it back to the bar ordering round after round. You had no idea what Kyra was even saying anymore all you could do was sit there and smile nodding to make it seem like you weren’t just staring at the freckles on her face and how they seemed to be moving around.

Putting your empty glass down on the bar, you let out a huff since you couldn’t work out what pictures her freckles were trying to make. Too far gone to realise that nothing was actually moving around. When you were putting your glass down you’d spotted a marker sitting on top of the bar. Smirking you leaned over to grab it, Kyra watching you intently laughing when she saw you take the cap off and take it towards her face, ‘What are you doing?’

‘Connecting the dots,’ You said it so casually and without any hesitation as if it was just a normal thing to do. Soon enough Kyra’s face was filled with random shapes, hearts and flowers, all things you thought you could see in her freckles. 

‘Let me have a turn,’ Kyra whined and tried to grab the marker from you.

‘But I don’t have any freckles Ky,’ 

‘Don’t be silly, they're everywhere!’ You let Kyra take the marker to your skin, her hand barely able to draw a straight line from how intoxicated you both were.

The rest of the night for the two of you was a complete blur. You don’t remember how you tried to get the bartender to give you more drinks, trying to get them to take you seriously that you weren’t out of your mind even with marker covering your faces. You don’t remember how you tried to dance again but ended up falling onto the floor and having to be escorted out of the bar. You don’t remember sitting on the sidewalk contemplating whether you should call Steph to pick you both up, but you couldn’t see the screen properly, getting annoyed and determinately getting up to walk back to the apartment.

You have no idea how you both even made it back to Steph’s, all you knew was that your neck and head hurt after waking up on the bathroom floor. The tiles were cool against your skin which you were thankful for, wanting to lay there until you could move your body properly. The smell of food being cooked ruined that idea for you, waves of nausea rolling through your body. Managing to lift yourself up you made your way into the kitchen.

‘Mornin’,’ You mumbled out towards Steph before seeing Kyra appear next to you, ‘Ky, how you feelin’?’ You weren’t paying much attention to her, more focused on the food wanting to ease how you were feeling.

‘As good as you look, like shit,’ Kyra shrugged, sitting at the counter grabbing the coffee Steph put in front of her, ‘What’s on your face by the way?’ Kyra was looking at your face, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

‘What do you mean?’ You saw Steph stifle her laughter, so you looked up at Kyra, eyes wide and holding back your own laugh, ‘You should see yours,’ Kyra pulled out her phone, turning to the camera and holding it up in front of your faces.

Fingers traced over the drawn lines that, in the end, weren’t even making any sense, ‘What are they even connecting? Are they supposed to be something?’ Kyra voiced the thoughts you were also thinking. Your memories of the night were hazy and you honestly had no explanation for the state you’d both found yourselves in. 

‘Please tell me you didn’t use a permanent marker,’ Steph’s voice was shaky, trying to hold back laughing at you both but her amusement was evident in her tone. Kyra groaned at the thought, really not wanting to deal with it.

‘I don’t even know where we got a marker from, let alone what type it was,’ You’d thrown your head back, sighing softly. Steph was quick to sneak a photo of the two of you sending it to both your arsenal and national teammates, knowing you’d never hear the end of it for a while.

‘Remind me to never leave you two alone again,’

[fanbasetwo]

✦ ZB1 HYUNG LINE TAKING CARE OF THEIR GIRLFRIEND WHILE SHE'S ON HER PERIODS!

001. PAIRING , zb1 hyung line ! afab reader

002. GENRE , scenario, reactions

NOTE FROM SENA , definitely not on my periods as I write this but I'll be getting back at the asks in my inbox soon (if you want to send asks—please be more specific about what you'd like to read) 🤍 MASTERLIST!!

KIM JIWOONG . . . ✦

Jiwoong was the perfect example of husband material—a genuine sweetheart full of thoughtfulness. He kept track of your cycle on his calendar, always anticipating your cravings and mood swings. This time, he had really gone all out, bringing home enough snacks to feed a small army: chips, cookies, and every flavor of ice cream you could think of. “Why so much?” you asked, chuckling at the mountain of goodies. “I didn’t want to take any chances,” he said, his expression serious. “You’re basically a gremlin right now, and I’m not risking it.” You laughed, playfully hitting his arm, but your heart was full. Jiwoong’s way of showing love was a bit chaotic, but it was endlessly charming. Later, you found yourself sitting on his lap, holding onto him like a koala. He gently stroked your hair, his lips brushing against your forehead as he murmured, “I’ve got you, love. Just sleep now.” The cramps were still there, but in his arms, they faded away.

ZHANG HAO . . . ✦

You loved Zhang Hao with all your heart, but sometimes his ideas left you questioning his methods. While your friends gushed about boyfriends showering them with kisses and cuddles during their periods, you were here—doing period stretches. “Hao… it’s not gonna work,” you groaned, clutching your stomach. But he was determined, armed with wisdom from some dubious online video. “Trust me,” he said, bending into what he claimed was the “ultimate cramp-relief pose.” You refused, of course, but Hao was relentless. “It’s simple! Just do it like this—” He stretched with exaggerated enthusiasm, only to pull a muscle halfway through. “OW! OW! MY LEG!” he yelped, flopping onto the floor dramatically, clutching his hamstring. You burst out laughing, your cramps momentarily forgotten as you watched him writhe, more injured in spirit than body. Maybe the stretches didn’t help, but his antics were the best medicine.

SUNG HANBIN . . . ✦

You still couldn’t believe how you ended up with Hanbin—a boyfriend straight out of a romantic comedy. Just look at the living room. Your usually messy space had transformed into a cozy haven filled with soft pillows, twinkling fairy lights, and a fortress of snacks and water bottles. He had even mastered the art of blanket fort construction. A true artist. “Babe, come on, you’ve turned into a slug,” Hanbin joked, crouching into the fort with a plate of steaming tteokbokki—your ultimate comfort food for those tough days. The rich, spicy scent made your stomach rumble. You stretched, letting out a lazy, satisfied yawn, and sat up, cradling the plate like it was a precious gem. “You’re spoiling me,” you mumbled between bites, the fiery sauce reviving your spirits. “Actually,” Hanbin grinned, swiping a piece from your plate, “I’m just encouraging your slug tendencies.” You chuckled, sinking back into the cushions. Jackpot? More like the universe showing off.

SEOK MATTHEW . . . ✦

Your boyfriend, Matthew, was the picture of tranquility—until your period arrived. Then he morphed into an overly enthusiastic knight dedicated to ensuring your comfort at any cost. It all began with a simple remark: “Matt, my head hurts because of the noise.” What ensued was pure chaos. The TV was abruptly turned off mid-show, the neighbors were shushed through the walls with frantic hand signals, and he began tiptoeing around like a burglar in his own home. Even his best friend received the royal treatment. “The queen has requested silence,” Matthew proclaimed, shutting the door in his bewildered buddy’s face. The gaming session? Delayed indefinitely. At last, he tiptoed back to your cozy blanket cocoon on the couch, dramatically wiping a bead of sweat from his brow. “Is it quiet now, Your Majesty?” he whispered. You peeked out, grinning. “Not bad, peasant. Bring me snacks, and you might just earn a knighthood.”

KIM TAERAE . . . ✦

“What is this?” you wondered, both confused and amused, at Taerae's action handing you his phone. The screen showed a playlist titled “Bleeding and Thriving”. You busted out into laughter while scrolling through it. Empowering anthems juxtaposed with hilariously on-the-nose tracks such as “Bleeding Love” and “She Wolf”. “Do you like it?” he inquired, his hands already working magic on your lower back by massaging the tension out. “Babe, you're so cute,” you murmured, giggling through the pain. That's just Taerae doing his thing: making things painfully cute. “Wait... is this the spot? Or lower? Higher? Is your uterus even here?” he asked, poking slightly off-target. You couldn't stop bursting into laughter, even as you swatted his hand. “You're the worst.” “Correction: I am the best,” he grinned, now gently rubbing your stomach. “It tickles,” you protested, still smiling. “Laughter heals all, doesn't it?” he leaned down to whisper.

join my taglist by sending an ask or commenting here <3

© 2024 all rights reserved to fanbasetwo !

[thepenguinweeb]

`` [Y/N], I admire you. Deeply.``

[ ♡ Chuuya x reader ]

[ ♡ Chuuya finds himself falling for his best friend, who also happens to be his best drinking buddy. But how does one confess when the only times you meet are at a bar? ]

Chuuya sat at his usual table, painfully bored. He kept fiddling with his fingers and occasionally taking sips of his alcohol, but it didn't help the fact he had nothing to do.

He'd come to this particular bar often. The drinks were good, and the company was pleasant enough. Not that he came for that, anyway.

A light tap on his shoulder.

"[Y/N]."

He recognized you immediately.

As he turned to look at you, he had to hold back a gasp. You always looked good, but tonight, especially.. he'd never seen anything more beautiful.

"It's nice to see you," he said quickly, trying to distract himself so his interest wouldn't be so obvious. "You, uh.. you look nice."

You smiled at him and let out a small chuckle before taking a seat at the table aswell.As the bartender passed you by, you told them, "I'll have the usual, please."

Silence fell over the two of you. Chuuya was looking down at his drink, cursing himself internally.

Due to a dumb bet with Dazai, he promised he'd confess to you the next time you met.

He still remembered the smirk on his damn face.

"Oh, you've got a crush now? I can't believe it! My little Chuuya has finally grown up! ...Oh, nevermind."

"..I swear to fuckin' god I'll kill you next time you make a joke about my hei-"

"Finee.. oh! If you confess to them the next time you see them, no more shortie jokes."

"...Bet."

But he hadn't expected it to be this soon! He still needed to prepare-!

"Something wrong, Chuuya?" You spoke up first. "You're awfully quiet tonight."

The short ginger sighed and ran a hand trough his hair. "Well, I guess we should talk."

Before you had the time to question him, he posed one first. "[Y/N], how long have we known each other for?"

"Hm.. I'm not sure. 3 years, maybe. Why?"

"It's just, uh.." he turned his head and hoped it was dark enough for you to not notice his blush.

Eventually, he sighed and got to it.

"[Y/N], I admire you. Deeply. You're the first person to make me feel like this. You don't turn away because I'm.. well, me. I like that about you." He paused and looked back at you. He was determined now. "Do you get what I'm trying to tell you?"

He felt like his heart would stop at any moment. As your silence went on longer, he felt so bad. Maybe he ruined this whole thing, and all because of Dazai, too-

"Of course I get it," you told him in a soft voice. He seemed to freeze in place the moment you spoke. "I feel the same way about you."

Now, it was his turn to be shocked into speechlessness. It took him some time to compose himself and finally give you a smile and a nod.

"Thank you.. thank you, so much."

A/N: Chuuya time!! Love this man. He's a sweetie actually (pretend he never committed all the murders). Anywayy hope you enjoyed! :D

Dividers by: @/rookthornesartistry, ty!!

[choochooboss]

Submas sketchdump! Vol. 1

April-June 2022

Literally dumping all the presentable works as promised, whether I'm proud of them or not! This is where I started, even before the first thing I posted online (That subway station one). Many of these are not on Twitter yet so there's lots to see!

The top piece above the header is my very first digital Submas artwork!! I never finished it bc I didn't know how to pull my vision of as I wanted & started modeling the train and didn't finish that either, whoops! I really want to remake this later and make it super cool!

^^^ My reaction to breaking 500 likes & 100 followers in a single day with my first tweet (the battle subway one) all the way back in May!! I was completely floored by all the attention, oh how it skyrocketed my excitement and anxiety! Crazy times, I was so super nervous to be there with so many amazing artists and doubted if I could ever survive there ahahah!! Many had joined the community much much earlier than me, so I had arrived with a late train to PLA/neo Submas hype!

Next up is a bunch of stuff I haven't posted before:

One of my fav sketches! Been saving this for so long bc I really really want to finish this one day!

One of the first submas sketches with an actual story behind it! The subway bosses are running late for their flight because they didn't pass the safety check! The irony!! This would never happen as bosses are always on schedule. But Emmet hadn't noticed a wild Joltik hiding under his coat, so he set up the alarm and they got examined and interrogated of smuggling! How embarrassing for them! The bosses resolved the situation by catching the Joltik, but will they be able to catch their flight anymore?? Maybe if Elesa can distract the stuerts performing the safety protocol for a minute!

More sketchbook stuff...

In case you can't make any sense of it, Emmet's dreaming of different combinations of pokémon. Meanwhile Ingo snores louder than the train! HONK SHOO!

Top 7 every submas fan draws at some point!

Submas trademark posing

submas sleeping in a train

sad Emmet

Emmet with Joltik

Ingo with a cool solo pose

Emmet being chaotic & Ingo reacting to it

a bunch of mirrored submas poses

I sure have a full bingo card lmao, most of them you can see here XD

Next up is a sad man...

Stay strong our friends!

My typical sketchbook pages, crammed and messy as usual. x)

Post-PLA exploration:

A few examples of how my pencil sketches evolve.

I've done so much art experimenting with submas. I really like this black & white painting but I don't think I'll finish it anytime soon.

Where did you go?

The way I draw the twins' faces has changed a lot. They started with softer features and somewhat neutral emotions, because I wasn't as familiar with them or comfortable drawing them yet. Now there's hundreds of submas sketches, and they still keep evolving! My style is also kinda hard to pull off well, so their features differ from picture to picture.

This one was inspired by some submas music videos, can't recall their names anymore. The glowing eerie eyes and yellow&orange + black&white color schemes were neat!

I keep telling myself I need to draw more butlers, these twinks look so lean and neat and have more color and are posh with their monocles and have fun tailcoats!

(...why eyeglasses are not called binocles??)

I was there for the vinegar chaos. Good times!

That's all for now, I hope you got something fun out of this! Still got loads more art to share but I'll save them for another time. Next round I'll bring in my first submas comic!

[imawreck]

Masterlist

Authors note: Hello, and welcome to my collection of chaos. This is where all my fics will be located and linked. Some of my fics might have separate master lists depending on how many parts I publish for them! I tend to write multi-part fics, but if I can hold myself back enough to get out a one-shot, this is where those will be linked! Thanks for visiting :)

Key:

💕Fluff | ❤️‍🔥Smut | 💔 Angst

S.W.A.T.

Who I will write for:

Deacon Kay

Dominique Luca

Jim Street

Tactical Hearts

(Series, On Hiatus)

💕/💔/ ❤️‍🔥 (Future)

Pairing: David "Deacon" Kay x Original Character

Summary: Based in Season 2, S.W.A.T. is bringing in both old and new recruits as they recover from budget cuts. Among those new recruits, is Lily Blake. With her training and experience, she poses potential for the team. Unfortunately, not everyone is willing to overlook her spontaneous nature, or untraditional joining to S.W.A.T. Over time, feelings emerge and friendships are forged... and maybe something more.

Author's note: This is a slow burn romance, so it takes some time to pick up into the actual romance part. Sort of enemies to lovers, and a lot of chaotic behavior, as well as canon violence and such.

Recruit (Part 1)

Marvel Universe

Who I write for/Will write for:

Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Loki

Thor

Spider-Man (Tom or Andrew)

Project G.H.O.S.T.

(Series, On Going)

💔/ 💕

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier x Original Character

Summary: Bucky assumed he was the last Super Soldier left. But what happens when he finds out that there might still be more like him, that there might be something Hydra cooked up that's worse than him?

Author's Note: This is an older fic I wrote for myself that I ended up carrying on for several parts. If it goes over well here I'll continue it, but for now I'll be posting what is written until there's requests for more or I just feel inspired to continue it.

Unknown (Part 1), Cargo (Part 2), Holding Cell (Part 3), Interrogation (Part 4), Experiments (Part 5), Pancakes (Part 6), Shopping Trip (Part 7), Poetry (Part 8), Perfect Soldier (Part 9), Amends (Part 10)

More in the Masterlist!!!

Project G.H.O.S.T. Masterlist

New Beginning Masterlist

Brooklyn Devil- A Vampire!Bucky Barnes x reader (Series, In Progress)

💔/❤️‍🔥/💕

Summary: A modern supernatural twist on the Marvel Universe where Bucky and Steve are still super soldiers, but their enemy isn’t Hydra. It’s every supernatural lurking on earth. SHIELD is now the organization created to maintain peace and balance between humans and supernaturals, and the Avengers are the elite force of agents sent to take down the most terrible of monsters. What happens when one of their own is turned?

Coven (Part 1)

His- a Winter Soldier x reader (One-Shot)

❤️‍🔥 (Straight Up)

Summary: You and Bucky broke up a few months ago against your wishes, and you’d been trying to move on. When Bucky sees you flirting with another member of the team, he leaves for the next mission to avoid getting in your way. Unfortunately, the mission goes bad, and Bucky isn’t himself when he comes back. He also has a lot to say…

Heaven Scent (Part 1, Coming soon)

Lean On Me- Bucky Barnes x Reader (One-Shot, Requested)

Summary: Reader deals with depression and hasn’t told anyone in fear that they’d think differently of her or treat her differently. Bucky sweeps in to prove she’s wrong.

💔/💕 (Hurt/Comfort)

Moments Stolen- Bucky Barnes x Reader (One-Shot)

Summary: You take some time to spend with your favorite person.

💔(Angst)

Supernatural

Who I will write for:

Dean Winchester

Sam Winchester

Castiel

The Walking Dead

Who I will write for:

Daryl Dixon

Wolfblood

Who I will write for:

Rhydian Morris

Vampire Diaries

Who I will write for:

Damon Salvatore

Elijah Mikaelson

Tyler Lockwood

Kai Parker

Kol Mikaelson

Tags <3

@winchestert101

[starberry-cupcake]

I don't think I have a lot to update today because life got in the way of me reading as much as I wanted, but if I don't note things down, I'm gonna forget, so here we are. I'm not sure if I'll be able to update tomorrow, but I'll be back as soon as as I can, more for my own peace of mind than anything else.

previously, in harrowlicious the ninth:

this happened

also, I may have or may have not been slightly spoiled about a thing because people in my dash don't use the tags available to us mortals, so I'm gonna have to sprint if I see any semblance of skull make up in my dash

close the tab immediately

close my eyes and cover them for good measure

currently, chapters 12 & 13:

we are training how to...kill planets, I think

basically, I think we're killing a planet and killing the thing that comes out of it when it's killed

this is what the care bears taught me not to do when I was a kid

actually, I think they even made a new one in the new re-design thing specifically to make the point even clearer than in the 90s

this new one

that's the opposite of what these people are doing rn

so harrowbean is training with mercygirl on how to be environmentally unconscious

if I am understanding the dynamics correctly, you kill the planet and then you chase the planet's soul aka beast through the river and kill that too

if the ones they're escaping from are bigger than these, they must have fucked up massively with whatever they destroyed

when I started reading gideon, I thought the houses were like planet-coded

you know, nine houses and all that

the ninth is now a hypothetical mysterious ninth planet

but back when my astrology lesson was sailor moon

the ninth was pluto

and in that mindset, the ninth would be setsuna meiou, which checked out with some of the harrow aesthetics, I mean

a mix between these two looks???

I went on a tangent, anyway

I moved on from that idea later but, in any case, these people must have destroyed some fucking huge thing to make the mess they're in now

so, basically, in order to chase the planet's soul (which they call beast, but I think that's disrespectful), that's where the cavalier comes in

the slurped cav is meant to keep the lyctor running through that process, so that their body doesn't collapse

and it's meant to have their instincts kick in to do the final push and use the sword they were trained to use

if mayonnaise uncle had not done what he did, he would have probably been good at this part

but he was obliterated

by hubris

so, harrow cannot do this

WHICH IS GREAT

for us, at least, because it's more hope for the "gideon isn't gone" theory that keeps us together

I speak in plural, as if you didn't know exactly what's happening, but you get what I mean

in my mind, we're like this, waiting for gideon to come back

so augustine calls harrow "diet lyctor"

he should call her "lyctor lite"

mercygirl gives harrow crap for not being able to sustain herself due to her lack of cavalier-ness

augustine makes fun of her for her lack of cavalier-ness

and I'm here like...you guys are the ones who started this mess?????

it's not up to a teen to save you in a couple months from something you haven't been able to fix in 10k years????

maybe you deserve it????????

what is this, evangelion????

harrow, coming back from the training and planet killing

harrow visits yandere twin in her new designated room

yandere twin has a room with a lot of nudes

"life sized nudes in languorous attitudes, generally in oils, and all of the same two persons. They were enthusiastically executed. The duo posing held a variety of objects both likely and unlikely."

so...which lyctor ordered a ton of nsfw fanart of themselves and their cav or whatever????

I'm assuming it's a portrait of one of them and it's this kind of situation

yandere twin apparently likes the nudes, so they're staying there

harrow doesn't like them

I think it's A Lot tbh, but it's not my lyctor room, so I'm not telling her what to do

who has the room with the ceramics collection? because I call dibs on that

anyway, yandere twin is having a hard time with this too

both of them are having a hard time with doing it, not with the ethical or moral implications of what they're doing or why johnny john john is asking them to do these things

harrow can kill the stuff faster, but she can't be trusted to be able to stay alive after

harrow was never very good at not getting physically damaged at all times

yandere twin has a hard time making chad cooperate

who would have thought

imma assume it's a problem you might encounter when you slurped your cav against their will

which is what we think happened, idk, we found him stabbed in the back so

and also it's chad

chad complained about everything all the time

harrow tells her it's psychological

the mental health care plan of the lyctors looks like this

also, harrow suggests yandere twin to cut her new arm if it bothers her

I mean, that's one solution, I guess

it's a very harrow solution

yandere twin points out that harrow is the emperor's favorite

that sounds like a very bad thing tbh

she also asks harrow to make her own arm grow back again and harrow says no because she's not good at the fleshy bits

"the fleshy bits"sounds like something cursed that comes with cereal in a magnus archives episode

but you get the idea

we end the chapter with harrow appreciating yandere twin's company because, when she found her after she had stabbed not!dulcinea's corpse, she said "wish you'd taken off her arms"

I respect that too

again, no camilla yet

well, this wasn't as long or entertaining but I'll come back whenever I can...life needs to let me read this book

[the5thcellar]

I actually think Luke is serious about A. That age gap is typically what men marry these days. I think he's crazy about her and was taking it slow after a long term break up before going official. That shows intention, planning, and wanting her. I wouldn't be surprised the official IG couple post is coming soon.

I'm just upset that they took it this far with promo. Tom and Z were meeting each other's family outside of work early on, so to say you are officially brining him to meet the fame was a bit much. Closing your eyes when she touches your face? Grade A acting. I hate that it makes me believe he was never attracted to an amazing woman like Nicola. I feel dumb for falling for it all. I hope Nicola finds a handsome guy who will love her proudly.

that's a really interesting take tbh! ive actually never considered he was serious about her in the sense of marrying - but of course this is purely based off the vibes I get and is entirely my own view.

one of the reasons i say this is because luke doesn't seem too inclined to keep a completely friendly distance between himself and nic - i heard that the QC leads india and corey were shipped really hard by fans as well and he had a gf during the whole press run - and towards the end india and corey started posing separately on carpets (i.e. no touching, no friendly hand around shoulder even during photos etc) because they wanted to emphasise that they were really just friends.

luke in contrast seems to have no qualms about blurring lines - and one of the reasons the more rabid fans kept insulting Antonia was a direct result of the fact that he kept stating his "single" status to press. I think he could have helped Antonia avoid a lot of the flak she drew by just stating that he's seeing someone. but maybe he felt it would draw even more attention to his private life and her? idk. i don't want to puzzle over his motivations because I don't believe they are too complex - I've said this many times before and I'll keep saying it - no matter how good a man seems (and I do believe Luke is very good and sweet), trying to justify anything they do is still a sure path to disappointment.

more importantly: please don't feel dumb for falling for the hope that nic and luke could be together! i really don't think they were being deliberately disingenuous - i actually think the opposite - i think they themselves are often confused about what they really are and it's just easier to define it as being great friends. it's strange but i get the feeling that they see each other as a source of potential - it's simultaneously impossible and also the easiest thing in the world for them to envision a reality where they're together - there just seems to be many barriers to it happening for real. they're comfortable living in the liminal space between great friendship and great romantic love - it definitely explains why nic said she doesn't have a relationship in her life that's anything close to what she has with luke. I think there just needs to be a decisive push for them to ever move out of this grey area. it'll have to be something massive for it to ever happen... and it's not something I hold out hope for (again, just to avoid disappointment!)

this got really long; I wish nic and luke all the best and I think they have something very special with each other. I think life has many many stops along the way and I don't think luke has found a final stop in his romantic journey with antonia - they are both very young and they don't have the vibe of "together forever" couples - if they did (since luke is such a big believer in love at first sight) - he'd have laid down a commitment a lot sooner.

again I want to emphasise that this is all MY POV - it's the vibe I get. I'm WELL AWARE I don't know these people irl. There's always criticism of how parasocial fandom and stan behaviour are but I think most fans - myself included - are very conscious of the fact that the way we perceive and interact with celebs is completely one sided. I'm also not a psychic or clairvoyant or anything of the sort. i just strangely feel a lot of things all the time and ive never been chill a day in my life 😂

sending you lots of good feelings and healing - I feel your hurt and unease and disappointment because I feel the same, but it gets easier to accept with each day that passes.

[apomaro-mellow]

okay yall convinced me to continue this

Eddie looked around and all he saw was black. Was this what death was like? He expected more people. But maybe death was just solitude. Then all of a sudden he wasn't alone.

He jumped back when he came face to face with, himself.

"What the fuck?"

His mirror image looked back and smirked. Then looked down at his hands.

"Finally."

"What the hell is going on here? Where am I? W-we?"

"Vecna is putting us back together. We can see everyone again soon."

"You mean...I'm not dead?"

"Oh we're very much alive. In fact, I'd say we're better than before."

As his mirror said that, Eddie felt a new energy thrumming in his veins.

"Why? Why would Vecna do this, I was tryina kill that bastard!"

"He wants something in return. To use us against them."

"Like hell that's gonna happen. I-"

"Didn't let myself get chomped on just so I could be used by an actual murderer."

"How did you-"

"Is it not obvious? I'm still you. But I'm the parts he wants to use. The part that's afraid of Vecna. Afraid of the world for seeing us for what we are. And angry at our lot in life. And ashamed for how we feel."

Eddie didn't respond. It was all a lot to take in. When his other self mentioned shame for feeling something, a certain face popped into his head.

"We're going to see him again. And this time, I'm going to take what I want."

"You put a hand on him and-" Eddie stopped himself. Not only did he feel pretty powerless here, he was never that good at restraining his own actions. "You touch him and he'll kick your ass."

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

After his little stunt, Eddie/Kas found themselves tied up again, this time in Steve's garage. And this time with chains (duct tape boys? really?). Nancy also made sure his legs were chained to the chair and had a shotgun trained on him the whole time they talked.

"We're all sure he's real?", she asked, nudging his cheek with her barrel. She was the only one here to actually experience Vecna's illusions besides Max. She knew how convincing they could be.

"He's real", Jonathan said, a lighter ready just in case. "Steve and the others said so."

Nancy rifled through all the information she got when she received the code red. Something that looked like Eddie had returned. But it was very obviously NOT Eddie. Stronger, faster, more durable. And apparently was receiving orders directly from Vecna. He also apparently had a craving for flesh, having busted into the meat locker of a deli before being found.

"What's your game this time? Use our friend's face to trick us?", she questioned.

"Heh, it really warms our heart that you call us 'friend'. Guess quality time over quantity, huh?" He was smiling, like none of this was a threat to him. Knowing creatures of the Upside Down, it would take more than one bullet, but Nancy had plenty.

"I believe I laid down my terms with the others pretty clearly. I'll follow your rules, so long as Steve is the one to watch me."

"Why Steve?", Jonathan asked.

Kas grinned at him. "Steve's my favorite."

"Oh my god, shut up, shut up, shut up", Eddie lamented from their shared mental space.

While Nancy and Jonathan were handling that situation in the garage, Steve was trying to get a grip on what was happening in his house. They were practically running up the walls.

"Steve you don't understand!", Dustin exclaimed. "This is huge!"

"I don't see how a monster posing as Eddie is huge?"

"But they're not just posing. It IS Eddie", Mike said.

"We don't know that. Not until Nancy confirms it."

Will rolled his eyes. "Oh like she'd know. She talked to Eddie for what? A day?"

"Cut the sass. And if you can talk, you can move your hands." Steve handed Will the knife and pushed some peppers his way.

"The point is WE, you know the people who actually hung out with Eddie would know him better. We should be the ones interrogating him", Lucas said, actually doing his duty of buttering a casserole dish.

"The other point is we don't NEED to question him because we already know that it's actually Eddie", Dustin said. "Vecna wouldn't know who Kas is. Eddie's in there. And he's telling us that he's on our side."

"You remember what Max told us, right? Vecna gets in your head. He sees what you see, knows what you know." Steve took the dish from Lucas and poured some rice into it. "If he got to Eddie, then he knows what Eddie knows." When Will finished dicing, Steve took the knife and was about to wash it under running water when he heard someone approach.

"Is Mama Steve making dinner?"

Steve reacted first and thought second and the knife flew threw the air. Kas caught it easily and twirled the knife in his hand.

"Nice aim. Lemme guess, little league?"

Nancy and Jonathan were right behind him. Steve wanted to respond. Maybe ask 'what the hell? why isn't he tied up? Nancy where's your gun?' But the kids got to it first.

"Tell us everything!" Mike demanded.

Dustin started rallying off questions. "Are you actually Eddie? Just enhanced? Or like a split personality? Is it one that came naturally or one Vecna implanted? Is Eddie like inside of you? Can he come out?"

"All in due time", Kas said, walking by them all to get to Steve, who once again looked like a deer with a car coming straight on.

"We struck a deal, princess. Looks like we're roomies."

There was still at least a foot separating them yet Steve felt boxed in. It was the same sensation he got whenever Eddie talked to him and only him, but intensified.

"Umm, hope you like chicken and rice?"

Internally, Eddie was falling to his knees. Steve's cooking, Steve in the process of cooking, with his little chickadees orbiting him. It was a domestic scene too much for his pining heart and he was actually glad right now that he wasn't holding the reins. Falling to his knees for chicken and rice wasn't the best look for a metalhead.

"Eddie would love some", Kas said cooly.

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

Dinner was an odd affair. All of them trying to figure out Kas in their own way. Dustin and Mike with their blatant questions, Lucas telling them to cool it, Nancy with her more subtle line of questioning, Will trying to see if he could feel anything, and Jonathan trying to see if Will was effected.

Steve was the only one pointedly trying to ignore the man which was very difficult given that he was doing everything in his power to get his attention. His favorite move seemed to be nudging Steve's foot with his own, causing Steve to bump his knee against the table at least three times.

Eddie wanted to roll into a hole and die. He especially wanted to do so when Kas started eyeing Steve's leg, because he knew what was coming.

"No, absolutely not. He let you get away with this much. But he will rip of your hand for this", Eddie said.

"I think he'd let us get away with much more." So Kas went ahead and put his hand on Steve's thigh, making him jolt up from his chair.

So yeah, quite the interesting dinner.

After eating, they figured out a rotation schedule for watching him. Technically Steve was only on the schedule for six hours a day. But considering Kas would be at his house the entire time, they'd be spending a lot more time together.

The rest of them were getting ready to leave so that they could check in with the others, but Nancy hung back to talk to Steve semi-privately.

"Are you sure you'll be okay?"

Steve glanced at the mysterious figure that was masquerading as Eddie, who was openly leering at him while ignoring the children.

"I'll be..uh, I can hang in there Nance, don't worry."

Then everyone else left, leaving the two of them alone. Steve felt a little like caged prey. But he also felt like this version of Eddie wouldn't hurt him. Not physically at least. But that left other things to do to him and Steve was afraid to go down that rabbit hole of possibilities.

"It's just you and me, Steve."

Part 3A More plotty, fluffy, bit of angst

Part 3B Less plotty, more smutty

Tag team:

@jestyzesty

@mightbeasleep

@findafight

@spooky-mulders

[kindathewholepoint]

Quite possibly the fastest JPEGs ever from Austin.

Squishes for the birthday boy.

Lil Bro, Jared's screen used car, is clearly the star here.

Jensen gave me such a strong double thunk on the back after this op that I think he knocked all sensible thoughts out of my head for a good hour afterward.

I let him pick the pose for this one and the totally botched the instructions but not at all mad about the results.

Couldn't pass up the first opportunity for an op with Misha and Baby.

Just your typical family photo op. (I assume... I don't actually have siblings.)

This one is just super cute.

Misha understood the assignment here almost too well.

"Do you have bigger cups?" This op was conceived of over a year before Austin ever took place. Moose got it instantly and complimented the good callback.

Had to get these up quick before Indy. More to come soon... and I'll maybe try to throw out some mediocre phone shots from Radio Company in the meantime.

[transformation4life]

Thinking Straight

"Hey Faggot, bet you want these guns?" The gymbro flexed to Parker.

Parker was your average gay twink trying to get some muscle at the gym much to the dismay of the straight homophobic gymbros. Even with that in mind he still came back every single time. Even with their comments he couldn't help but keep drooling at their bodies especially with their asian heritage.

"Yes I do. Now keep belittling me please," Parker didn't hesitate to keep staring.

The gymbro snarled and grabbed Parker by the neck.

"You. Faggot. Shut up! You will be like us soon enough and understand how much faggots like you deserve to suffer." The gymbro let go of Parker as the words left Parker with a terrible feeling in his stomach.

The collective bunch of gymbros all laughed and pointed at Parker soon after and Parker's hard on quickly faded and the poor skinny guy was filled with embarrassment and left the gym to go back home. Usually Parker would be filled with lust after the gymbros insulted him, but after getting grabbed he felt... different. Either way Parker needed to be alone for a while.

Parker arrived at his apartment and opened the door and was quick to collapse onto his couch.

" *Groan* That was so weirdddddddddd. What did that guy even meannnnnn? I'm as gay as can be!" Parker didn't want to think about what happened anymore so he resorted to his usual at-home activity of watching videos of male bodybuilders to get a hard-on.

So Parker pulled out his phone and was quick to search stuff like "Bodybuilder Flexing" and "Bodybuilder Posing" and "Pec bounce" hoping it would give him the desired tent in his pants. Much to Parker's dismay though, that tent never appeared even when it usually should have. Parker felt like something was off. The words the gymbro said to him ringed in his head again.

"AUGHHHH This is infuriating!!! Y'know what I'll just go to bed now. It's getting late anyway," Parker closed the YouTube app and made his way to his bed.

An urge quickly took over Parker as he out of characteristically decide to sleep nude.

"I-It's a bit hot in here this is perfectly fine..." Parker told himself.

Parker closed his eyes thinking of strong, large, and muscular men hoping he could maybe stroke his cock before bed but he still felt nothing. Infact he felt more challenged that he wasn't like them.

"I'll show them tomorrow. No more horny," He mumbled before drifting off to sleep as his life would soon change drastically.

As the night continued Parker kept rolling around in bed as he kept twisting and turning his sleeping position as he tried to think of large men in order to calm himself down but it still wasn't working.

"You will be like us soon enough," The words suddenly entered the thoughts of Parker making him sweat. Almost sweat too much.

Parker's face began to morph as his eyes became thinner and his lips a bit plumper and more changes to give his face a more asian look. Although his eyes were closed Parker's vision started to worsen while suddenly a pair of glasses appeared on his nightstand. Parker's pale white skin was slowly becoming much more tanner and much like he's been out in the sun for a lot longer than he actually has. Memories of being a Thailand immigrant quickly surfaced into Parker's brain as they replaced the ones of being born in the United States. Still as gay as ever, Chet Wong still wanted to get big and stare at men all the while.

"เชี่ย…" (Fuck...) Chet moaned in perfect Thai as he was about to get a hard-on thinking of the same asian gymbros before something stopped it.

The next most important change become evident as Chet began to pack on TONS of muscle. As the muscles packed on so did the memories of Chet going to the gym at young age of 14. It wasn't before long that Chet had two massive suckable tits, washboard abds, pythons for biceps and thick juicy thighs not to mention the bubble butt of all time along with other ultra masculine features.

And now... the star of the show couldn't wait much longer as Chet's currently small dick erected and grew into a thick girthy 10 inch monster just waiting to fuck.... something. Boys! Girls? Chet was a bit fuzzy on his sexuality as he continued to moan as he remembered his long rod and hanging out with... those asian gymbros?! Wait... that's right those were Chet's friends. Have been for a while now. But why would those homophobic shitstains want to hang out with-

-and understand how much faggots like you deserve to suffer." Chet grabbed his rod thinking of how hot his gymbros were and how lucky a gay bodybuilder like him was lucky to be around them until his stopped in his tracks and his dick softened.

"Why am I thinking like a Fag? I'm no Fag!" Chet's homosexuality quickly became 100% heterosexuality.

Thoughts of men pecs and hairy bodies were quickly replaced with the thoughts of busty women and their curvy bodies that Chet needed to seed with his 10-incher. Chet adopted every single toxic masculinity trait in the book as he thought about all the women he fucked and all the fags that he turned down. Chet's rod quickly rose to it's full girth as he began to masturbate until releasing a sea of cum onto his bed.

"ที่รู้สึกดี….." (That felt good...) All of Chet's worries were gone as he finally drifted into a peaceful sleep.

Morning arrived as a flurry of notifications brought Chet awake. Chet groaned a bit as his morning wood was evident due to his thoughts of women last night. Chet grabbed his glasses from his nightstand and went for his phone.

"Wonder what Fag texted me last night. Let's see..."

Much to Chet's betterment it was one of his gymbro friends also from Thailand.

GB: เฮ้ Faggot พร้อมที่จะทำซ้ำแล้วหรือยัง? (Hey Faggot, ready to do reps?)

BigDick: ฮ่าๆ! แน่นอน ขอแค่ให้ฉันเตรียมไม้เรียวให้สาวๆ แล้วฉันจะไปที่นั่น (Haha! Of course just let me get my rod ready for the ladies and I'll be there.)

Chet put his phone down and got out of his bed to give a good look of himself on his closet mirror. He was feeling cocky and ready to seed.

After a self-obsessed ten minutes Chet put some clothes on, but making sure his prized schlong was big and out there. Chet then grabbed his gym bag and set out for where his bros were at.

"ไอ้เหี้ย! นั่นแหละ!" (Faggot! There you are!) One of the gymbros shouted as Chet approached

"ฮาฮาฮามาก. ฉันไม่ใช่ตุ๊ด แม้กระทั่งยกออกเมื่อคืนนี้กับผู้หญิงบางคน" (Haha very funny. I am no faggot. Even jacked off last night to some ladies.) Chet smirked.

"และนั่นคือเชตที่เรารู้จัก!" (And that's the Chet we know!) The gymbros all cheered.

"มาปั๊มกันเถอะ!" (Let's get our pump on!) Chet cheered back.

The thai gymbros worked out for hours as they built their muscles to show off to the ladies. A couple ladies at the gym even noticed the group making some comments about them. This caught the attention of Chet as he was ready to get some pussy tonight. While the other gymbros were distracted with their workouts Chet stripped of all of his clothes except for his underwear poorly keeping his rod in check.

"Hey ladies. Like what you see?" Chet did a little flex.

The girls giggled and nodded. Chet was ecstatic and made his move.

"So how about you feel this 10 incher in ya later tonight at my place?" The girls giggled again but politely decline much to Chet's rage.

"What?!?!?! You bitches don't know what you're missing on!!!" Chet walked away to his bros absolutely fuming.

"What's wrong bro?" One of the gym bros asked.

"Ladies didn't want my seed it was not fun!!!" Chet replied solemnly.

The bros showed deep concern for Chet and began to hype him up.

"You got big ass Chet! Those bimbos know nothing!!" One of the gymbros said prompting Chet to look at his ass in the nearby mirror.

"You are right!"

Almost as if right on cue another set of ladies walked by and Chet's libido was higher than ever. Chet adjusted his loose underwear ready for a seeding opportunity.

Surprisingly one of the ladies actually agreed to a date later tonight and the whole gymbro group cheered.

"นั่นคือเชตของเรา!" (That's our Chet!) Any sign of Parker was long gone as Chet pulled down his pants thinking of all the ladies he was going to fuck.

Chet's prize swayed back and forth as Chet began to smile as he moved his legs in excitement.

"ฉันรักการ���ป็นผู้ชาย!" (I love being a man!)

[i-heart-hxh]

Hi again! Hope life gets back to settled soon for you! I had a question about your HxH collection. How do you prioritize the figures/merch that you want to collect? Does it boil down to "I like this pose/manufacturer/price point/etc" or do you go for more unique things to differentiate the overall collection?

And also, as someone else who is currently growing their collection: how do you store so many boxes and plastic clam shells? It's beginning to become a problem for me lol

Thanks for your time!

Hi there! Thank you!!

These are great questions! I'm actually a serious, extensive lifelong collector of many things, and as I've gotten older figuring out what to go for and not has become a bit of an art form for me, haha. When I first got into HxH, there wasn't nearly as much merchandise releasing as there is now, so over time I've had to gradually figure out prioritizing.

My method is basically: When an item is announced, if I immediately decide to go for it, then that's a definite yes. If I'm on the fence, I'll usually see if I keep thinking about it or not. If it leaves my mind easily, I don't worry about it, but if I keep thinking about it I'll usually get it.

I personally tend to prioritize items that I feel will be difficult or impossible to get later. This includes rare/unique items like cels/production art, really old or scarce items, limited items, and also fanmade items (doujinshi, things at Artist Alleys at cons, etc.). Figures and plush and such that are released widely tend to be easier to get later so they can sometimes wait, but it's simple to pre-order them so I generally do that if I'm sure I'll want them when the release date comes.

I think it's good to focus on what tends to bring you the most lasting happiness with regards to collectibles--sometimes it's better to splurge on something that continues to make you excited to own for a long time than buy a few things you don't care about as much. But things don't have to be rare/expensive to make you happy, of course--maybe the personality that comes through on a particular type of figure makes you happy, or you find you love teeny tiny items, or having lots of art prints on your wall brings you joy, etc. It can be hard to figure out what to focus on when there's lots to choose from, but really paying attention to what you value and what feels best to you helps!

As for boxes, I'm lucky to have a lot of closet space with shelves so honestly I tend to shove my boxes in there. (Though admittedly even that is becoming difficult as time goes by.) I personally like to keep them whenever possible, but if you really don't have room I think it's okay to either flatten or toss some of the less exciting ones!

I hope this is helpful, and here are a few casual pics of some of my HxH merch, though I honestly have a LOT more than is pictured here and these aren't the best pictures: