#mini writing thing

[5unny-lmao]

Undertale Asgore headcanon:

He and Toriel, both noble kids, met when they were young, going to the same private academy. She didn't show interest in him whatsoever. He was loud and obnoxious and got into far too many fights with the other boys. He, however, in true Asgore fashion, fell head over heels with her the moment he met her. He tried hard to impress her, failing at every turn— to be clear, most of his attempts at "impressing" her were by doing the things she found most irritating.

They were both around twelve at that time, and Asgore had recently lost his mother, leaving him alone in a big house with a nanny and an incredibly absent, harsh father. He took to coping with his mother's death by gardening, something she had taught him. He didn't want his father to see him doing such a thing, so he would stay after school with permission from his favorite teacher in the small greenhouse kept for science class, and the even smaller flowerbed next to it.

One day, while attempting to find a quiet place to study (and secretly search for snails while nobody was looking), Toriel stumbled across Asgore in the flower bed, wearing spare clothes his teacher had provided him, now covered in dirt. He stuttered, attempting to get across an excuse, but Toriel only sat down next to the bed. She smiled and told him that it was nothing to be ashamed of, gardening was a fine hobby. She found that being so in touch with nature was quite the virtue, and she had always enjoyed watching her family's groundskeeper work, keeping him company. Asgore asked her why she was only now giving him the time of day, and she told him that she was never interested in the activities that defined the boys in her school. She preferred a boy who was quiet, kind, and gentle. a boy who would respect her wishes and listen when she spoke. she was an intellectual, therefore, she preferred someone who spoke their mind rather than used their fists. The pair started to spend more time together, and Asgore started to soften. he listened more and spoke slower. He became the man his mother would have wanted him to be.

When the war came around, though, that started to change. he and Toriel had been married for years, but she began to see a new side of her husband. For the first time in her life, she heard him yell. He had grown into a big man and had a voice to show for it, low and rumbling. His voice was like thunder, and she didn't like it one bit. they were at war, though, and she knew she couldn't blame him for the man he became to protect his people.

When the war ended though, their relationship on the brink of collapse, Asgore promised to soften once more. The last time Toriel heard him yell was as the barrier was forced shut, him being the final monster thrown into the cavern. For years, he was quiet, his voice barely reaching above a whisper. The war had changed him— it changed everyone, none for the better. He had quite a long time to process and move on, however, and even if he never recovered, he knew he needed to bring hope to Monsterkind, so he pushed forward. When Asriel was born, Toriel saw her husband as the happiest he had ever been, and she knew in her heart they would be okay.

When Chara arrived, and the underground finally started to feel like home, Asgore's hope began to feel real. It felt like they actually had a chance of escaping the cavern, and it wasn't a pretty lie he told to keep the underground from going dark. Asgore was happy— his family was growing, and his children were gentle and kind, just as they had raised them to be. His voice boomed only when he laughed, and Toriel couldn't have been happier.

Then they were gone.

Toriel saw Asgore raise his voice one last time before she left, as he declared war on humanity once more.

She did not see her husband anymore when she looked at him. She did not see that boy, gardening in the warm afternoon. She did not even see a young boy picking fights in the schoolyard. She saw a monster, and she refused to look back.

When she left, though, Asgore once again vowed never to yell again. He was gentle, he was kind. He taught a young, loud girl how to fight without once raising a hand. A young, loud girl who reminded him far too much of his own youth. He tried to be the man his mother had raised him to be. He was the man his wife had wanted him to be, even if she was no longer there to care.

[frownyalfred]

I'm seeing a lot of "ugh, so we can't even criticize fic authors anymore?" posts popping up on here and the ao3 subreddit and I just want to say, for the record: No one's saying you can't criticize (fanfic) authors publicly. They're saying it's rude and antithetical to positive fandom experience. And, yes there's a difference.

If this website was a conference and I had just spent a whole afternoon listening to a presentation on [unpopular fic trope] and after that was done, I got up on stage and very publicly told the audience that [unpopular fic trope] was illogical and anyone who writes it is woefully misinformed and should be banned from writing [relevant character], that would in fact be a dick move.

"But the canon character would never--" it doesn't matter. You're shouting down the hall at the person who just happily did a whole seminar on their OOC version of that character. "But I don't like that the author chose to make them--" good, you're well-acquainted with your likes and dislikes, time to find another fic.

We all run into fics and interpretations we don't like. But there's a huge difference between loudly talking about it on Tumblr where the author can see it, and just venting in a private discord or other group. Also, gentle reminder that this is a hobby for most writers and something they do purely because they enjoy it. Stop being massive dicks just because you feel entitled to a certain flavor of fanfiction you will probably be chasing until the Reformation of Krypton.

[cheer-nympho]

Steve had been conned into chaperoning the kids to a ren faire.

Admittedly with very little resistance, but he was keeping that to himself. Once there and with their bags packed away into some apparently theme appropriate tents he had shrugged on some medieval casual clothes and…immediately lost track of all of them,

But a figure he did spot was a long haired Jester entertaining a small entourage with juggling,

Steve finds himself laughing slightly condescendingly at the jingling man. Why do people find juggling so impressive?

He picked it up straight away with some hackey sacks while bored between practices. He’s just good with his hands.

When he looks back up to get another glance in however, the jester isn’t perched on top of his little rock anymore and the crowd has merged with the other dweebs.

Steve stares at the empty space for a moment before a jingle right by his ear spooks him into turning around.

“Art thou not impressed by my amazing skills, your lordship?” The jester asks, swaying on his feet and causing the bells all over him to ping, grin wide and mocking.

And up close Steve notices one very important, very dangerous thing.

This court jester is really fucking hot.

He looks like an idiot, a nerd, a dweeb. Its hard not to in a pointy hat. But he also wore it too well, looked too perfect like that.

Steve notices the…is that..? Yes, the corset wrapping tightly around the mans waist, red and black diamonds decorating the sides and leading to small puffy shorts. His legs are covered in tight black leggings which should look ridiculous. It should.

An obnoxious cough and head tilt-jingle make Steve aware that he has been staring at the mans waist for way longer than was ‘bro code permitted’

He looks up with a wince, expecting a look of disgust ranging from mild embarrassment to punch-your-lights-out.

He was, instead, greeted by a smug and knowing smile. The red and black triangles painted over the mans eyes warped where the grin reached them. “Or maybe thou art impressed, but skills are not what draw thine eyes.”

Shit. Fuck. The stupid hot nerd is using stupid nerd speak on him. And Steves stupid nerd, apparently ‘very accurate’ pants are getting tighter. He needs to say something. Anything.

“You’ve got…bells.” Okay, maybe not anything. He used to be better at this shit.

He is rewarded with a wild, joyous laugh as the jester throws his head from side to side. “I do! Isn’t it amazing?The staff insisted on it so they could hear me coming.”

“It certainly makes an impression-“

“Eddie, names Eddie. And what does my lordship go by?”

“Steve is fine.”

“That he is…” The comment was punctuated by a less than subtle glance, almost a leer. “However, Fine Steve seems unimpressed with my merrymaking. As the official court jester, I cannot let that stand.” He stamps his foot, causing another cacophony of jingles.” “Therefore…”

“…Pick a card any card!” A pack of standard cards was presented to him with a flourish, but all he could do was roll his eyes.

“Come on, really? This shit is basic. All I have to do it watch your hands. You’ll swipe my card out and put it back in later, or mark it somehow.”

“Ooo his highness has it all figured out doesn’t he. Well then, princess, you have nothing to lose by picking a card, do you?” And that was…true. Plus he could maybe try to fix his previous fumble and try to claw a number out of this disaster.

So with another bitchy roll of his eyes, Steve plucks a card from the deck and hides it behind his palm. Two of Hearts.

Then out of nowhere… “You know, Stevie, if you think I’m pretty you can just tell me. I know the kingdom would approve not of a noble like yourself marrying a commoner like me, but they need know little of how we…” He begins to reshuffle the cards, motioning for Steve to place his chosen one back in before making some very obvious, very crude movements with his fingers. “…get to know each other in the meantime.”

He was going to die. In the middle of a nerd fest.

“Well, my lord…” Eddie continues, circling him while dragging a finger across his arms and shoulder blades before coming to a stop in front of him. A very bold hand takes Steves jaw and forces his head up, pretending to inspect something on his costume for any bystanders.

“If you would like some more…close up demonstrations…” He leans in tightly, still holding Steve’s jaw in a tight grip. “You can pay me a visit in staff cabin 23 tonight.” He strokes a piece of hair gently behind Steve’s ear before pulling out a card, as if from said ear.

Steve was glad that Eddie took the initiative to carefully pull his hand up and place the card into his palm, because currently Steve was too preoccupied with staring like a fish out of water into Eddies eyes. Everything about him was just so captivating, so alive.

Maybe that’s why he did little more than step forward aimlessly, with small grabby hands when Eddie pulled away. Before Steve could even process it, the bells and jingles had mingled back into the crowd. But that was…that was okay. Cause he could go to the…cabin?

But how was he supposed to- Oh. He looks down. On the card was a loosely clipped room key with a ‘23’ crudely engraved into the edge as if by a pocket knife.

The card itself, to his horror, was the Two of Hearts.

Shit.

He forgot to watch the fucking hands.

[carebeardean]

Charles has always left Edwin little notes slipped between the pages of his favorite books, in his science equipment, places he knows Edwin loves. Just silly things—post its that say “hi Edwin :)”. doodles of Edwin with his nose stuck in a book. reminders to stock up on wolfsbane. but.

Then, post canon, Edwin tentatively starts dating people. And it’s ridiculous, because Edwin’s right there, all the time, but Charles..misses him a bit. And his heads a mess, and he can’t sort out what the hell he’s feeling most of the time, and whenever he tries to say any of it out loud it comes out rubbish.

So. He writes down some of the shit he can’t say right, and because he’s a coward, hides them so he doesn’t have to see Edwin’s face when he reads them.

then Edwin starts writing back.

Neat lilac blue little envelopes appear in Charles coat pockets. In his bag. Once, in his shoe? Some nights, Edwin will clear his throat and mention something from a letter, offhand, like they’re just picking up conversation, and Charles can pretend they are. That they always have talked about the basement, the belt, the nameless fear that chokes him every time Edwin walks out the door with someone else on his arm.

Sometimes he can’t. The words get stuck in his throat. Edwin’s not mad, he’s maddeningly, stubbornly kind about it, which is worse.

Some nights they trade. A secret for a secret. Charles learns about the novels Edwin used to hide under his mattress, about all the lonely years before Charles got there. About Simon.

Meanwhile, Edwin is losing his mind, because Charles has accidentally stumbled onto what was a fucking courting ritual in his time. Love letters were something engaged couples treasured for years, kept and reread over and over. (Edwin does. keep them in a special box, will take one out and trace the words, tuck it in his breast pocket for courage).

Edwin would rather have to reattach a limb again than lose Charles trust, all the dark and beautiful things he shares with Edwin only. He knows—knows Charles doesn’t mean to make him fall more in love with him.

[stealingyourbones]

Out of all of the people The Ghost King Phantom expected to relate to, it definitely wasn’t the scrawny red headed photographer of the Daily Planet. Jimmy Olsen has gotten so many temporary superpowers over his time being Superman’s friend. Hell, he once gained a 4th dimensional being’s reality warping abilities when he was given said dimensional being’s powers during a fight. Sure there’s a dozen or so heroes with the same amount of powers he has, but none as suddenly granted to them as a all powerful god that can relate to a teenager.

[yayll]

omg PLSPLSPLS GIVE US GIRLDAD!DAZAI!!! Im literally so obsessed w ur work and luv luv luv reading it <3

just wanna say thank u so much anon for sending in the CUTEST request ever i have never thought abt it this way and when i finally did it was over for me. it wrote itself. THANK U FOR LIKING MY WORK THATS SO SWEET AHHH :') i keep getting ill so srry it's a lil late but i am so thankful for you trusting me w ur concept. mwahhhh.

~ a little something about girldad!Dazai simply trying his best, and loving it ~

Dazai never thought the day would come when his life finally felt complete. First, you happened to him and that was something he couldn't even fathom in a million lifetimes. It wasn't meant for him, and letting love into his heart felt like going against the nature of things. He struggled with it for a long time, pushing you away and making sure you realized this wasn't something worth pursuing... but you never relented, and he stopped fighting the longing for something more. You made him feel it was okay to want, to yearn, to need. And so came along every single repressed desire he had ever had. The love between you bloomed, and he thought this was the height of it all; The bandages he wore over his body were no longer grim reminders of his lack of humanity and the masks he wore on the daily. Those frayed wraps of fabric were symbols of love returning, of patience, of a lived in soul, and he no longer had to maintain them alone. He had you.

And then one day, he suddenly had a little girl in his life.

Another life to nurture and to start anew with, and his fear was that he yet again could not redeem himself from his past, but he was determined for her, for you and for himself to not let that be the case. When you gave him the most precious thing he didn't think he ever wanted nor could ever have, that was the day he vowed to be the epitome of a true figure worth looking up to. Osamu Dazai, the family man! Dad of the year!

... Except today, when he woke up late to take the apple of his eye to preschool. You were out of town, and though you eventually claimed to have faith in his solo parenting skills, it was a complete leap of faith. He comforted you for hours, how hard could it be? He can be both parents at once! How cruel of you to even doubt him. He remembers the look on your face when he slammed the door on you while holding your precious angel in his arms, both of them giggling while they waved you off as if they rehearsed it.

Aaaand now he realized why you were so worried. He looks at the time and he springs out of bed, running off to her bedroom. She even sleeps like a little lamb, he thinks to himself. He rushes at her side and softly turns her over.

"Little love, wake uuupppp..."

She pouts, shaking her head as she shifts in her sleep. He sighs and tries again a little more desperately.

"If you wake up, that will be really good for daddy, otherwise mommy will kill me! Up we go!"

He picks her up, and she rubs her eyes as Dazai does the most rushed morning routine ever.

He gets her dressed, though the socks don't match, and when he does her pigtails, they're lopsided. How do you do it?! And now he has to FEED her?! He stuffs a few handfuls of cereal into his mouth while giving her a proper bowl, but they're so late he thinks they should just start walking now.

"Take the bowl with you, we can do this thing called eat and walk! Yes?"

"'Kay, daddy!"

She simply giggles, not understanding how dire it is for her to make it today. She holds onto her cereal bowl as he grabs her backpack, both of them walking out into the street. Dazai's fast walking and her bowl sloshes a bit as she tries to match his pace and eat at the same time.

She's waddling adorably, and he gets lost in watching her carefully while also literally getting lost finding the school. He stops at the crosswalk, and thinks to himself. She looks up at him with a milk mustache, and her soft melodic voice rings once more like a voice of reason. She points to the right.

"That way! hehe."

Dazai has no time to fact check this, and at this point she's parenting him. You'd pass out of laughter if you could see him right now. They rush towards the school, and when he drops her off at the gate, he gives her a big kiss on her forehead.

"I love you, okay? Now give daddy the cereal bowl. How yum was that?"

She cheers, smiling wide.

"Yum!!!!"

He smirks, and takes the bowl. At least he got that right, that smile alone is worth every late start to his mornings. He waves at her as she enters the school, and forgets he's holding the bowl still, her teacher looking at him like he's deranged. You were so proud to hear that his first time parenting alone went so smooth! What you didn't know was that your little girl did most of the work keeping him on track. Still counts, right?

Another time he was exemplary was when he had just given her a bath and you were supervising to make sure he got her routine down.

"Osamu, that's the conditioner. The shampoo is over there."

You laugh while pointing at the clearly marked bottle. He rolls his eyes, smirking as he continues to rub it in her little swirl of dark hair.

"Oh please, I knew that. This makes it soft! And all detangled... It's a better routine, trust me. This is so much better."

He was totally bullshitting, he had no idea there was more than one hair product ever. This is the same man who used to find showers foreign and eat canned crab for every meal. You simply nodded, seeing right through his facade. But it was all so endearing watching your daughter splash the water on his face and play with rubber duckies, it was a dream come true. It was a dream you knew was more precious to him than anything, so you let him have his fun.

Once bath time is over, he places her on the bed in her diaper and walks out to grab her a change of clothes. Uh oh, he forgot today was laundry day! He walks back into the room a few moments later, thinking of how to pivot without having to bother you when he sees his little angel wrapped head to toe in a full roll of his bandages. His eyes go wide at the sight of the wrapped up toddler, and he laughs nervously as he rushes over while she has the time of her life squealing and rolling around the bed. He pretends to be mad.

"Little love! That's not clothes, silly! That's for daddy only, you have your own."

She simply disregards this, her mind focusing on how hilarious it would be if she just started making bubbles with her saliva instead. Dazai chuckles again, and puts his hands on his hips.

"Oh, such attitude! You know, l'm gonna have to do it... Remember when I told you about daddy's old job? I'm gonna have to get mean againnn..~"

He immediately launches himself onto the bed, tickling her through the thick fabric, and when you rush over you find them both just collapsed on the bed, Dazai counting her fingers and toes in order to distract her enough to unwrap her. Luckily, you had a spare onesie for her to save the day... even if it took the both of you to get her out of her improvised outfit. What a strong willed little one! You hoped this wasn't a special abillity developing...

It's no surprise she's a daddy's girl either, a mini Dazai at her core with your balancing characteristics on the surface. She was a little menace, sticking her tongue out at dogs every time she saw them because Dazai would do the same. He would even go as far as to help her dress like her hero! Of course you both had a stroke when you saw how tightly she wore that bolo tie, but the laugh after was worth the worry... After you scolded both of them... but it proved useless against two of the most experienced charmers you've ever met. You just couldn't win.

You especially could never get used to the sight after a long day of existing in the real world, simply watching her climb up to the couch and playing with Dazai's hair as she nuzzles herself into his shoulder, right in the crook of his neck. It was just as intense for his poor little heart as well. The way she'd yank on a strand while he pretended to be asleep was priceless, or when she'd stick her finger in his nose, causing him to have a sneezing fit soon after. It was almost karmic the way she both adored him and put him in his place, just like you.

"Daddy has brown hair because he drinks chocolate milk."

"Daddy stinks today. Throw him away!"

"Daddy looks like a mummy. Do you like mummies?"

"Who's Kunikida? He yelled at daddy today, it was funny!"

She'd babble on about all kinds of curious nonsense. You'd simply nod and agree. She was never wrong!

But what really got to you was watching her pass out on his head after hours of playtime, and the way Dazai would finally open his eyes with that smug smile of his, scooping her up and carefully taking her to bed. He tucks her in, whispering about all the adventures they'll have tomorrow and the days after. About all the rules they'll break together, and mysteries they'll solve when he takes her to work with him. He doesn't tell bedtime stories per se, but he spends all his time having actual conversations with her until she dozes off because he cannot believe this is a little extension of him and he's just as fascinated with knowing her the way she is with him. With life.

She's full of it, something he wasn't for a long time, and it brings him to tears when he sometimes thinks about it too long in private.

You're both his life and he didn't realize he could still feel regret like he does when he thinks of all the times he spent trying to end his own existence. It's a whole different world, and sure, he also loves to use her as an excuse to continue to slack off at work, and maaaybe he likes to sometimes force Atsushi to turn so she can pet him like the giant cat he is out of both their own entertainment, but dying is no longer the priority. It hasn't been for a long time, and he thinks he's doing an okay job... At being a dad, at being a human, at belonging in this world.

When he finally gets in bed with you, he feels whole. He also feels impish when he turns over and whispers.

"Maybe it's time for another, hm?~"

Oops!

[stormyelliotwritez]

Hello! Can you do something with Deadpool and the male reader Venom?

hehehehehehehehehehehehe yes i can and you guys can be bfs coz like dp would so be into that

Dating Wade as reader with Venom

you guys meet when you are mid killing some guys coz you got hangry and he falls for you (even though he thinks you’re only an alien monster and not like a guy with a symbiote… he ain’t super smart, okay?)

he follows you home (i never said he wasn’t weird) and falls for you even more when he realizes you’re a guy with a symbiote

he originally just wanted to ask venom out but then he learns about you and thinks you’re the hottest guy ever

eventually you guys meet and fall for each other and it’s probably involving you guys killing the same guy like the murder version of the spaghetti scene in lady and the tramp

he asks you both out by being really cringe and offering up a dead guy for venom and flowers for you

he literally wants to crawl inside you and he makes it very clear how hot it is that you get all big and scary

him and venom bond over things like their love of chicken nuggets and killing people and chocolate

sometimes you let him borrow venom and he loves it because venom screams over his inner voices and it feels like a big hug

there’s a lot of spiderman kisses in this relationship that involve either you dangling him upside down and making him giggle like there’s no tomorrow or you being like spidey and somehow swinging from a building

he’s so so so affectionate and so whether you’re in human mode or venom mode, he will crawl onto your lap and cover you in kisses

he loves being manhandled when venom has control and so if you get pissed at him, literally pick him up and he’ll be the best boy and will shut up

piggybacks are a constant when venom takes over because whats the point of having an alien monster boyfriend if you don’t get piggyback rides out of it

he’s always telling you that he thinks you’re hot with or without venom and he’ll always love you

he finds it super hot when he’s throwing a tantrum or something and you’re not in venom mode but you bring out a tentacle to shut him up or pull him closer to you for snuggles

venom cuddles are peak because he’s like a weighted blanket so you guys cuddle and venom kinda lies on top of youse

he calls venom mode scary baby mode and human mode baby mode coz he silly

[rosyhoneydew]

“I almost didn’t.”

“What?” Tommy asks, rinsing off his toothbrush and turning to look at Evan in the mirror. He looks lost, almost.

Tommy himself is feeling a little thrown. They'd moved to the bathroom to settle down for bed a bit ago; and Evan had filled him in on the freak accident, the trip to the hospital, and how for the rest of the day he'd had a weird, unshakeable feeling.

"I saw the blade going loose. I- I knew it was going to break. And for a second I just... waited."

Tommy frowns.

"Sweetheart, you couldn't have known-"

"I think I did," Evan says. "It's weird. I know there's a million different ways that could've gone, but it was like I thought what if it hits him."

He looks down at where his hands are gripping the sink, his knuckles turning white at the force of it.

"I think I hoped it would."

Tommy reaches slowly for Evan's left hand, and places his on top. He doesn't try to peel Evan's hand away, just gives him the warm pressure of his touch.

"It didn't," Tommy says. "What it comes down to is, you saved his life."

Evan looks over at him, eyes pained like he's hoping to believe him.

"You're not someone who hurts people, Evan. You're a person that hurt people turn to."

Tommy shifts himself to lean against the counter and holds onto Evan's hips.

"Maybe you hesitated, or maybe you remembered to take a beat before jumping in head first? Isn't that what you said Bobby wanted for you? To think fast before you attack the situation."

Evan looks away briefly like he's reassessing the moment.

"Either way" - Tommy leans in to press a kiss at his cheek - "I know who you are. I don't have to have seen it to know what you did was selfless, and good." He brushes Evan's curls back a bit then, and gives his hip a squeeze before heading to bed.

Evan will be in soon, and he'll curl up to Tommy and kiss him deep, holding him tight as he drifts to sleep.

[starrystevie]

eddie figures out that he likes steve all because of nancy fucking wheeler.

it isn't often that they find themselves hanging out just the two of them, quite the opposite. this is the first time they've ever done it and the only reason nancy is even stepping foot inside the munson's new government-provided trailer is because she's having a crisis.

"but what does it mean," she asks, voice muffled as her lips wrap around the opening of her beer bottle before taking a swig. her cheeks hollow and her eyes shut against the feeling of the carbonation bubbling up before she fixes eddie with a glare that he doesn't think is for him. "it didn't... feel this way with barb."

and eddie's just sitting there on the couch, rolling a much needed joint for both of them, trying to follow along with what nancy is saying. she's pacing a hole in the carpet and her hands are flying around in a way that eddie himself does when the wheels in his brain are spinning too fast.

"... what didn't feel what way?"

nancy glares at him again and he gets the feeling that it's directed at him this time. he feels himself shrink under her eyes and wants to raise his hands up in surrender (he gives in and does indeed raise his hands in surrender).

"i think i'm in love with robin, please try and keep up."

eddie stills, his hands in the air and mouth open in shock. nancy's still muttering about something but his brain is stuck on the being-in-love-with-robin part of her tirade. it's not an issue, not in the slightest, and sure he's heard of people who... but he's never met someone who actually-

"are you even listening?" nancy asks, her tone firm. she has a hand on her hip while the other is clenched tightly around the neck of her beer. "what am i supposed to do?! am i just supposed to kiss her and tell her that her eyes are my favorite color and that i miss her when she leaves a room even for just a minute?"

"how should i know?! i'm not in love with robin!" eddie responds and he knows it's the wrong answer by how nancy's whole face falls in the span of .02 seconds. she looks like she's on the brink of tears, frustrated or hopeless or sad, and eddie doesn't know what to do with that either.

"but... you know. what about steve?" nancy's voice is soft now, and paired with her puppy dog eyes, eddie almost doesn't process what she says. "how'd you know with him?"

and if eddie thought he was stunned before, this takes the cake. a nervous laugh bubbles out of him, his face hot and heart pounding. his arms feel a bit like liquid and he doesn't know if he's even breathing anymore.

"nancy, i'm sorry but i think we're on two different wave lengths here." he needs to do something with his hands so he starts to fiddle with his lighter, flicking the zippo open and shut until the clink of the metal sounds too loud in the quiet room. "i don't.... love steve."

tears start to roll down her cheeks and yeah, eddie definitely messed up somewhere. she's wiping the drops away furiously like she's surprised they even dared to show up and she's biting her lip in a way that looks like it hurts.

"what are you talking about? of course you do." her eyebrows furrow which makes her look even angrier or disgusted and eddie feels like they're on a tightrope in his living room that's about to snap away from underneath them.

"well yeah, i... love him," he stutters over the words, "like i love you and rob and everyone. but not like... love love."

nancy's laugh sounds way too harsh for it to have come out of her. "are you sure? you stare at his ass more than i stare at robin's." she takes a deep breath, ignores the gasp of indignation that her statement gets out of eddie, and tilts her chin up like she's taking the high ground.

"i do not!"

"do too! and you're always looking for him when you walk into a room, like it doesn't matter if we're there, you only look for him. and you sit right next to him even if there's an open seat that's more comfortable. and you have this little, i don't know, tic when he smiles that makes you wiggle your fingers and you-"

"wheeler, you gotta stop."

"-always listen to him and he does all of that back for you and it's so obvious. i can't believe you didn't know you were in love with steve! you do everything that i do for robin and i'm in love with her so it must mean you're in love with steve and- holy shit i'm in love with robin."

the silence after nancy stops rings loud in his ears. honestly, he hadn't really given it any thought before but it makes sense.

the very idea of steve has his heart feeling a way it hasn't since he was nine and tracy nichols gave him a shiny rock on valentine's day. he does always look for steve when he enters a room, his very presence calming and dependable. he does sit next to him no matter what, their sides pressed together, heat radiating between them like a blanket. and god, when steve smiles, he does have to move his fingers, something to get out these jolts of energy that he feels licking through his veins.

steve is good and steve is a bit of an asshole but eddie likes that and suddenly the line between platonic and romantic seems to have vanished because holy shit, how did he live for the past year without spending every day loving steve harrington?

eddie reaches for the half rolled joint, licks at the paper to close it and lights up quickly. he holds the smoke in his lungs for probably too long but couldn't care less because he's now having a crisis of his own thanks to nancy.

"goddamnit," eddie hisses out as he exhales. "i'm in love with steve."

nancy looks smug, her arm extended as she waits for eddie to pass the joint to her before taking a hit. "that's what i'm saying."

"but i'm not... you know."

nancy rolls her eyes. "it's not going to bite you if you say it, eddie."

"i'm not gay."

the silence seems louder now as the paper on the joint sizzles. there's a dog somewhere in the park barking and he can hear his own heartbeat pounding in his ears.

"neither am i." nancy responds quietly with a shrug of her shoulders. "but i am for robin. and you are for steve."

she passes the joint back over to eddie and stands up from the couch, wipes off imaginary crumbs from her pants like she didn't just turn eddie's world upside down.

"i think i'm gonna go. i have a lady to woo." nancy looks happy. it's a good look on her, one he doesn't see all that often what with everything that's happened to them in the past year. she deserves it, he thinks, happiness.

"let me know how it goes," he calls to her as she stops at the trailer door.

"i will." with a tilt of her head and a with a gleam in her eye, she gives eddie yet another look that he doesn't know if he wants to try and decipher. "you should call him."

eddie snorts and takes a hit, rolling his eyes as he stares up at the ceiling so he doesn't have to look at nancy's all knowing eyes. it isn't that he's scared to call steve, it's that he's terrified. petrified. what would he say? what would steve say? he just figured out that he loves him, he hasn't had time to prepare a whole speech to declare it and-

"eddie." nancy's voice is sharp but certain and part of him thinks that robin is a lucky woman to have nancy wheeler falling in love with her. "trust me. call him."

after she's gone, he finishes the joint. he sits in the silence of his trailer and pulls hit after hit of sticky smoke until it's down the end and burning his fingertips. he stares at the ceiling some more, contemplates what to say, how to say it, how to do anything without throwing up.

he wonders if wayne knows, if he saw what nancy saw, what he thinks of eddie falling in with a guy. he wonders if this will change everything. wonders if it'll change for better or worse. wonders if he'll have to skip town and change his name like he imagined doing after he was cleared of murder.

picking up the phone is easy, dialing is easier when he has steve's number memorized like the back of his hand.

"hello?" steve mutters like he's been roused out of sleep. his voice is scruffy and somehow soft and eddie knows he's going to throw up.

"steve."

"hey, man. is everything okay?"

and it makes eddie's heart flutter in a way that a generic question shouldn't but damn it, he's in love. he's allowed.

"yeah, yeah. everything's good i just-" eddie sighs, scrubs a hand down his face to stop from twirling the phone cord in his fingers. "do you wanna maybe come over? watch a movie or something?"

eddie can almost hear the smile in his voice when he breathes out a yes, thanking whatever higher powers there may be for nancy wheeler.

[marlynnofmany]

Recreational Food

I admired the scenery as we walked. “I’m glad we came during the dry season. Looks like there wouldn’t be much solid ground otherwise.” This wide flat area was pretty clearly the flood plains for the river just over the hillside, with several tiny plateaus where huge trees had escaped getting washed away. Everything else was dirt.

Paint spread her arms beside me, basking in the sun like the little lizardy alien she was. “I’m just glad to be outside! It’s been so long since we had a delivery on an actual planet, not to mention one that smells nice.”

It smelled like dry river mud to me, which was nice enough, but maybe those trees were extra appealing to Heatseeker senses. There was a scent of something kind of like rosemary on the breeze, now that I thought about it.

Paint was still talking. “We’re not even in a hurry today! The drop-off went fine, so we can stroll back to the ship at our own pace. This is lovely. I could stay out here all day.”

The ground rumbled. Splashes and the bleats of distressed animals sounded from the direction of the river. The rumbling got louder.

I asked, “Are you familiar with the concept of ‘jinxing it’?”

Before Paint could answer, a stampede swept over the hill toward us. Paint screamed and bolted. I ran after her, frantically searching for a plateau that was both climbable and close.

“This one!” I yelled over the noise of what had to be hundreds of alien fauna. Vaguely buffalo-shaped things without horns. I’d study them more closely when they weren’t closing in fast. Paint barely heard me, so I towed her over to the plateau and boosted her up. She wasn’t a natural climber, but she made do, scrambling to safety with me close behind. We made it out of trampling range just in time.

I clambered up and lay flat under the spreading tree while Paint hyperventilated beside me, an ocean of brown fur rolling by underneath. The rocky ground shook and the tree showered us with leaves. But the branches didn’t fall and neither did we, and eventually the herd calmed down from whatever had startled them.

The problem was, they calmed down before they finished passing our tiny island. Thundering footsteps slowed to a mooing, moaning amble, with buffalo-things surrounding us for a good distance in all directions.

My phone rang. We both twitched. Luckily the animals were loud enough to miss it. I pulled the phone from my pocket, hands vibrating with adrenaline, and answered a call from the captain.

“Are you safe?” she asked, her voice distant over the phone. “We got a report of local fauna moving unexpectedly.”

I laughed, wide-eyed while Paint tried to get her breathing under control. “Yeah, we barely made it. I’m not sure how we’re going to get back, though. They’re all around us, and I don’t like our chances if we try to just walk through.”

“Yes, don’t get too close.” I heard claws on keys as Captain Sunlight checked the local information bank. “These creatures are known to be hostile. They also treat approaching shuttles like threats, which doesn’t bode well for an air rescue.”

I tried to breathe deeply and get my heart rate back to normal. “Threats that they should attack, or run from?”

“This says they face off with shuttles, and defend whatever territory they’re occupying at the time. Attempts to chase them away have been unsuccessful, as have attempts to lead them away.”

“Yeah, that’s the worst,” I said, glancing up at the thick branches above. “Our vertical access is garbage right now anyway. We’d have a hard time getting into a shuttle.”

Paint was looking a little more calm, though worried. “Maybe they’ll wander away on their own?”

I relayed the question in case Captain Sunlight hadn’t heard it. She said, “Maybe. Let me contact the local authorities for more information. Stay safe; I’ll call you back.”

I said goodbye and put the phone away, then just lay there listening to my heartbeat and the various grunts from below. Paint sniffed audibly, no doubt appreciating the spicy tree smell. I tried to enjoy the view. The buffalo-things had heavy paws instead of hooves, and their faces were misshapen to my Earth eyes, more mooselike than anything. The thick brown fur was normal enough, though.

I was trying to think of what breed of dog it reminded me of when a cloud covered the sun.

A dark cloud. The kind that might be full of rain.

“Oh no,” I said.

“That can’t be rain,” Paint said, scrambling up. “It’s not the rainy season!”

I got to my feet, clutching a branch. “It could be rain. A flash flood might solve one of our problems, but…”

“Oh, that would be so much worse!” Paint hugged her arms close. The air hadn’t gotten that much cooler yet, but rain could be bad for a cold-blooded Heatseeker. And that was even without considering whether we’d have to swim for it.

I looked around frantically. “There’s got to be something we can do. Maybe throw a rock and scare them into stampeding away again?”

We scoured the rocky plateau, but nothing came off bigger than a fingernail, and the only things up there aside from the tree were some sparse bits of grass/moss and stray dirt. Even the tree didn’t have any small branches that looked easily snapped off; they were all thick limbs. I could probably climb out over the herd if I really needed a stick, but that did not look worth it.

I checked my pockets. “Wait, I have food. Maybe that’ll help.” We’d left right before lunch, and I’d grabbed a few portable things in case the delivery took too long. I thought hard about what kind of food these creatures might like, and how they might react to it, as I knelt and emptied my pockets onto the ground.

It was all Earth stuff from the import sector of the last space station we’d stopped at. A packet of turkey jerky. Freeze-dried strawberries. A tube of peanut butter that had thankfully not ruptured in the scramble up here. Pop Rocks.

I picked up that last one, thinking fast.

Paint was reading the label on the peanut butter. “Oh, this is the one some of your people are allergic to. I suppose it’s too much to hope these creatures are as well?”

“I have a better idea,” I said, eyeing the lowest branch. It was sturdy. There were creatures below. And they were all wet from the river. I turned to Paint. “Throwing something might startle them enough to stampede if we hit one just right, but I’ll bet that’s not as startling as the sound of sudden hissing from the back of their neck.”

“Which of your foods does that??” Paint asked.

I held up the brightly colored package. “Recreational food. They’re basically sugar crystals with tiny pockets of compressed air inside. They pop and hiss when they dissolve.”

Paint shook her head. “I’m not even going to ask why.”

“Great.” I shoved the package into a thigh pocket that I’d be able to reach easily, then hooked an arm over the branch and climbed up.

“Be careful!”

“I will,” I said as the clouds darkened further. Lying on the branch like a particularly awkward jungle cat, I scooted over the edge of the plateau. None of the creatures seemed to notice, busy as they were in nosing the dusty ground for sprouted grass, or whatever passed for it here. Good. I wanted their heads down.

When I was over a big one, I stopped and got out the pack, oh so carefully. Dropping it now could well be the kind of mistake I’d regret for a long time. I ripped open the package with care, knees clamped around the branch, as thunder rumbled closer than I’d like.

Then I gauged the angle carefully, and poured a stream of Pop Rocks directly onto the buffalo-thing’s neck.

I heard it crackle and pop as the sugar dissolved in the wet fur. Suddenly everything was panicked bellows and the thunder of feet. I clung to the branch, hoping desperately that it wasn’t about to snap off under my weight. All I could see below me was waves of brown fur.

It felt like the stampede went on for longer this time. Maybe because I didn’t have any climbing to distract me; all I could do was hold onto the branch like the most desperate of baby monkeys, and hope it held.

It held.

Finally the rumbling footsteps receded over the hill, leaving churned-up dirt below and a very grateful Paint behind me.

“You did it! It worked! Now let’s go; I think I see rain!”

She was right. I shimmied back onto solid ground to pick up the rest of my snacks, shoving them into pockets alongside the crumpled Pop Rocks package, then I helped Paint scramble down from the plateau.

Wind had picked up, blowing rain towards us in a visible wall from the west. But something silver glinted in the sky to the north, which grew swiftly into the welcome sight of a local rescue shuttle.

We ran for it. It landed on the riverbed, door open and arms waving from inside, and we dove in just before the rain hit.

“Safe!” Paint exclaimed as the door shut and a Frillian in a uniform guided her into a chair. “That was too many close calls for one day!”

I followed the directions to take my own seat as the shuttle lifted off. A different Frillian handed me a blanket, though I didn’t need it. Nice and warm, though. I asked Paint, “Ready to go back to the indoors for a while?”

She settled a heat shawl around her shoulders and sighed with relief. “I suppose so. Much less chance of getting trampled or frozen there.”

The official next to me asked, “What caused the herd to move away? We were told they had surrounded the area.”

I grinned and dug out the crumpled package. “Recreational food!” There were still a few Pop Rocks caught in one corner, so I dumped them into my mouth to demonstrate. The expressions on the rescuers’ faces were great as the candy hissed and popped on my tongue. “I poured thith down on a big one,” I explained around it.

Paint added, “It worked great! Scared them right away.”

The officials exchanged a look, then asked to see the package. I happily handed it over and explained where I’d gotten it. Paint said our courier ship would be happy to arrange a delivery of some if they wanted.

By the time we reached our ship, the local officials were ready to talk to the captain about ordering some recreational Earth food, to use for an entirely different purpose than it was made for. But that would hardly be the first time.

~~~

These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.

Shared early on Patreon! There’s even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.

The sequel novel is in progress (and will include characters from these stories. I hadn’t thought all of them up when I wrote the first book, but they’re too much fun to leave out of the second).

[ebsmind]

18 + coriolanus snow who fucks you like there's no tomorrow. his thrusts are rapid and he's a grunting mess but you love it. he’s got one hand around your throat and the other holding your waist. occasionally he looks down to see himself going in and out of you and oh how that drives him insane. he hits the spot that just makes you moan his name like there’s no tomorrow. the minute he circles little figure eights on your clit you’re a sobbing mess and he looks at you with so much admiration. when you cum it’s like heaven and he can’t seem to grasp the idea on how much he loves you.

[5unny-lmao]

Thinking about Flowey.

Thinking about how he lived and died through something horrifically traumatizing at an insanely young age. Thinking about how he wakes up one day years later-- long enough later that several if not all of the fallen children fell and died, and Alphys became the royal scientist and started her experiments. He wakes up and finds that he is no longer a monster, but a flower in his father's flowerbed, and he cries. He cries and cries as long as he can, calling for his mom and dad until eventually, his dad finds him. He finds him and he holds him, crying for his son, promising that everything will be alright. Flowey can see how emotional his dad is, and he realizes that he feels nothing. He should feel something, right? But it's just nothing, blank, numb. Then he finds out that his best friend is dead, that it's been years or even decades since they died, and his parents had been divorced that whole time. He should be sad, he should be angry, he should be anything, but still nothing. He stays with his dad for a while, hoping that with time it will all come back, but it never does. Eventually, it becomes too much for him, and he decides to find the one person who should be able to help-- his mom. He leaves and finds his mom, isolated in the ruins where he grew up. He explains everything to her, and she probably holds him and cries for him too, just like his dad did, and he tries again to feel something. He fails again. He eventually decides it's not worth it and leaves her too, he doesn't want to live in a world where he can't love her anymore. He decides to end it, but as he dies, he realizes he doesn't want to. He realizes he wants to live, and that he's too scared to die.

Then he wakes up again, in his father's flowerbed once more, weeks or months earlier. Once he figures out that he can't die, he starts doing everything he can, experimenting with the world, until he drives himself crazy. He resets over and over again, and when he gets bored enough, he resorts to killing-- not because he wants to, of course, he just has to know what happens.

Then I think about Asgore and Toriel.

I think about Asgore finding his son in his garden, only he isn't his son anymore-- he's a flower-- but he's his son nonetheless. He is overjoyed to have his son back, but he can't help but wish his wife were there to experience it with him. Over time, he notices how distant his son is growing, but he hopes it will go away with time-- that he is just getting used to the way his world is now. One day, though, without warning, he disappears, leaving Asgore alone once again.

Then Toriel finds her son in the bed of golden flowers where he found Chara, only he's now a golden flower too-- but he's her son nonetheless. She takes him in, overjoyed to have him back, to tell him all of the things she's learned over the years, to have a permanent new mouth to feed who wouldn't leave her to die. She notices him growing distant, and she worries, but she doesn't push-- hoping he'll open up when he's ready.

Then he disappears again.

Asgore and Toriel lost so much over the years, and now they must mourn their son again.

Then one day, they wake up, weeks or months earlier. The time spent with their son is gone-- it is just a weird, distant, bittersweet dream that they will forget as their morning goes on. A dream that will forever leave a hole in their hearts-- a hole they will never be able to fill.

I wonder if Flowey felt something when he killed his mother. I wonder if somewhere, deep down, something broke every time he saw her die. I wonder if, even soulless, he cried for her.

[cauldron-of-oddities]

A snipped that took over. @jm-chrome @youmaycallmeyourhighness

This is your doing, making the Ekko and Jinx poros way too cute.

The great cookie heist

Ekko had been eyeing the confectionery bakery for weeks. With its smells of butter and sugar, three tiered cake displays and sweet buns, and cotton candy cafe terrace, it was beyond enticing. The promise of so many treats luring him in. And then he'd seen it. The most wonderfully enchanting tasty looking cookie ever: The size of a plate, with gooey chocolate chips, wafts of vanilla, and cinnamon rising from it and it had electric blue popping candy sprinkled all over it. And when you broke a piece off, you could see it was the chewy sort.

It would be his. He decided with stars in his eyes. He'd be charming, puff himself up for an extra bit of fluff and roll around, and give wide sparkly eyes. And no human, yordle or other could say no to him. With careful consideration, he picked his target. The chirpy blond, with her hair in a bun, and far too frilly apron and a sucker for cute.

Confident in his choice, he sets about with his charm offence. What was it humans said? Oh yeah, rizz. The next day, he makes sure his orange scarf is just so, and he shuffles from under a table. Fluffs himself up a bit, trills happily, and for good measure offers a coin he'd found.

“Aww, aren't you adorable?” Yes! It's working!

“Would you like something, sweetpea?” Yes! He warbles as much. He dashes past the girl to the display and leans up by the cookie. The girl laughs, “Well, would you look at that, your coin’s half the cookie, and because you're such a cute poro, you get half off.”

Success! She comes back round the counter with his prize when a streak of blue, white, and a dash of pink pilfer the cookie out of the shop attendant's hand.

There's a pink paw print on the blond's forehead, who looks completely dazed. That paw! He knows who the culprit is. Turning to the high-pitched victorious warble, he sees her: Jinx.

Up on one of the parasols, with a smug look, she chirps, teasing him. There, between her horns is the giant cookie. She sticks her tongue out and wiggles getting ready to jump, daring him to catch her.

He glares at her with a growl and a wiggle of his own. He jumps to the parasol, and she hops right over him to a table and down to the ground and runs.

No! That's his! With a dash, he takes off after her, racing through streets their speed ruffling skirts, tripping pedestrians, and knocking hats off heads he tries to snag his cookie back.

Then she dives between the legs of a vendor, under the narrow gap of his cart, and Ekko goes crashing into the wheel with a poof. He can hear the vendor above him fussing over him, picking him up, and patting him on the head. Mumbling sadly, he mourns the loss of his treat.

He's been placed down on one of the park benches and told to take it easy for a bit. Crestfallen, he does. Why his cookie? And worse, why her? He liked the pretty poro, with her downy fluff and blue streaks. Murmuring sadly, he hopes he gets another chance.

There's a nudge against him and a rueful warble. Turning, he sees Jinx looking regretful, wobbly, with big, watery eyes, the cookie still held between her horns. Her hiccuping chirps told him she only wanted to play. She drops the cookie next to him, looking away.

Ekko feels rather fuzzily warm at that. She wanted to do something together with him, not steal his cookie. He headbuts her softly and warbles. Next time, she should just ask to play. A pleased and questioning ‘murrrp’ is his answer.

He licks her then and gestures the cookie, breaking it in half. He can barely push her half to her before he's tackled in a cuddle, nuzzling her face into his side.

He's feeling beyond chuffed while he bashfully grumbles something along the lines of “next time you get the cookie”. With that, he finally gets to chomp down on his hard earned treat.

[cheer-nympho]

Steve was always being brushed off when he asked people to read things aloud for him,

In middle school his assigned partner for their ‘Frankenstein’ project gave him a scornful glare and ignored him when he had asked them to read the passages aloud.

In his sophomore year, he’d turned to ask Robin Buckley to read a old newspaper article about the ‘Wild West’ to him, because he couldn’t make it out through the fonts and weird words. She had fixed him with a cold look but before she could respond, Tammy was tapping his shoulder offering her help.

Then, while studying with Nancy and Barb at lunch, Steve had asked for help reading study cards. His own study cards. The paper was too bright and the squiggles too squiggly. Both of them had looked at him, them each other, clearly trying to decide if it was a joke.

Barb had scoffed under Nancys pointed look and gone back to her own notes. And while Nancy hadn’t read them out for him, she had handed him her own notes on some nice blue and yellow cards. It took him a while, but he could read them. Maybe she thought he hadn’t wrote any.

After that, he went a long time without asking anyone to read him things. Turns out that once you graduate, reading isn’t much of an issue. He’d gotten by just fine by looking at his Archie comics and ignoring the swirling lines of articles surrounding them.

He didn’t need to ask again until Scoops Ahoy. For a cheap, overly themed ice cream parlour there sure was a whole lot of memorising and reading to be done. He couldn’t see the charts properly, couldn’t really make out the dates on the tubs in the freezer. But every time he asked Robin for help, her frown would deepen and deepen until she just snapped. It hadn’t been that mean, really. Just an annoyed yell followed by accusations of being lazy, her not understanding how he managed to graduate, one last comment of him being a ‘bumbling idiot’.

After the Russians, she never said anything like that to him again. And she always did the inventory and lists for him.

It takes until summer, 1987, for anyone to read aloud to Steve. They were laying across Eddie’s new bed in comfortable silence.

Steve had his legs dangling off the edges as Eddie leant back against him, legs pointing up against the wall in a way he swore was actually comfortable. He had been reading a new book called “Spellfire” and he couldn’t seem to put it down.

“Eddie?”

“Hm?”

“What’s your book about?”

“This? Well I…Not sure it’s really your thing, man.”

“Maybe.” He goes back to reading. “I could see if it’s my thing?”

Eddie twists his head sideways to look up at Steve with a slightly confused face. “You wanna borrow it?”

“Was thinking you could read it.” He fiddled with the pocket of his jeans in a hopefully casual and not freaking out way. He didn’t look at Eddie as he waited, but after a few moments he responded.

“Sure. That’s fine, yeah. Want me to start over or go from here?”

“From there is good.”

And it was good, it was really really good. Steve hadn’t been able to read a book since middle school, hadn’t really tried again after that. But as he lay back and let Eddie’s voice wash over him he couldn’t help feeling that he’d been missing out.

Sure, it actually wasn’t really his thing, but the way Eddie read aloud painted such a clear picture that Steve enjoyed it anyway. The other would change his voice slightly for different characters and added emotions into his speaking. If it was a tense moment, he’d go slow and add gaps in just the right places. If it was fast paced he’d speed up and get more and more manic until the action cut off. He felt like he was reading along. Felt like he could see the pages in the book, but also the characters and the dungeon they were combining through.

So, for the first time Steve hadn’t been brushed off. He had probably found the only person he knew who could turn reading a book into a performance. One he would happily be seated for every night.

From then on, new books turned up at the trailer every week, Steve not far behind.

[le-panda-chocovore]

You know those "secret meetings" people are talking about ? Well, imagine if...

At some point, Gojo probably became tired of this situation, of pretending he didn't sense his best friend's curse energy all around the city, of turning a blind eye to the rumor about that miraculous monk with a handsome face.

Geto didn't know what had gotten into him, he couldn't explain for the sake of his soul why he opened the door with no hesitation when he felt the familiar and overwhelming curse energy outside. He should have been scared, he should have been worried, he should have woken up the girls and run away even though there's no use in trying to escape the legendary Six Eyes. But Geto didn't feel any of these needs, actually, the only reflex he had was to go toward the threat.

Gojo Satoru was standing alone in the street, hands in his pockets and eyes covered with white bandages. Geto felt his all-seeing gaze flicked to him, and his heart started beating in a away it hadn't done for years.

"....You shouldn't be there," the curse user stated as a greeting. This really was an awful first thing to say to the best friend he hadn't talked to since they argued in front of a KFC.

Gojo made a noise that could be identified as a snort as well as a whine. He felt nauseous, the world was suddenly too bright. Hearing Geto's voice did something to his heart and to his mind, he wasn't sure if it was good or bad. But he knew he didn't care.

"Sorry, I didn't call first." Gojo's voice was rasp and tired. His tone was slightly different from what Geto remembered. He grew up, he was an adult now. They both were.

The converted monk stared at him, not knowing if he should laugh or roll his eyes. Gojo wouldn't have been able to call him anyway, since Geto changed his number when he left the school. Four years and ten months ago. A lot of things happened since then. They changed, they weren't the inseparable best friends everyone hated anymore. Plus, one of them was a criminal, and the other had surely been given the order to kill him. They shouldn't been standing in the rain, in front of said criminal's house, at 11pm.

"You're soaking," Geto stupidly pointed out. Limitless was on, raindrops stopping a few millimeters above Gojo's clothes. Geto leaned his umbrella toward the man anyway. "You're going to catch a cold. Come inside."

"Sure," Gojo agreed as if it wasn't the stupidest proposition ever made. He followed the curse user inside, still completely dry.

They settled in the kitchen, Gojo sitting quietly at the table with a useless towel around his neck -they had to keep the lie real, for both of their sake- and Geto putting tea on the stove. The wet umbrella was abandoned at the entrance along with their shoes.

"You look good," Geto stated, finally breaking the silence. He wasn't even looking at the other man, too focused on the tea warming up.

"I guess," Gojo hummed distantly, his attention distracted by the room. His banded eyes were absorbing every detail from the wallpaper color to the oil stain on the counter. "Same for you."

The mood was tensed, but not awkward, which make this whole situation even weirder. Why did Geto felt so comfortable having the white-haired man in his house ? He couldn't begin to explain what he was thinking when he let him in. This was ridiculous. The fact that Gojo didn't make any comment on his blatant excuse to get him inside was just as ridiculous. The worst part was perhaps that Gojo made no attempt at small talk despite being the one who showed up at Geto's door in the middle of the night. Geto sighed, cursing at himself in his head, and turned around to look at the sorcerer.

"You're quiet."

Gojo hummed again and looked away. Not that his head moved, but Geto could feel that his heavy gaze was no longer fixed on him. He also could feel the man's nervosity. He knew him as well as he knew himself, despite the years they spent apart, it seemed that the link they shared never faded.

"Tell me. What is this about ?" His voice was too soft, too caring, and it was wrong because they were supposed to be on opposed sides.

Gojo shifted in his chair and still avoided Geto's eyes. He took a deep breath and tried to relax his shoulders.

"Can we," he started, before biting his lips. "Can we pretend that it never happened ?" Your deflection, our fight, you building that cult, he didn't precise. Geto understood anyway. "Can we act as if everything was fine ? Please ?"

The curse user didn't say anything at first, staring at him thoughtfully. Should he give in ? Or should he send him away ?

"Please," Gojo insisted with a bit of desperation in his voice. He looked up at Geto again. "I'm... I'm tired, Suguru, I'm really fucking tired right now and I just-" He frowned and sighed, angry at himself for not finding his words. "Come on Suguru, can we say we're still friends ? Just for tonight ?"

The first name thing is what got into him. Suguru sighed and turned his back on the man to serve the tea that was finally ready.

"Okay, we can do that." He smiled softly when he put the cup of tea in front of his friend. "It's been a while, Satoru."

Even though he couldn't see his eyes, Suguru was almost blinded by how Satoru's face lightened up.

"Yes, it has ! So, let's catch up, yeah ?" He was too excited, too genuine, but it didn't matter because he was with his best friend again. "What are you up to these days ?"

Suguru snorted quietly at Satoru's reaction and sipped his tea to stop himself from laughing out loud.

"I'm doing fine," he said after putting the cup down on the table. "My... business is pretty good, I think. I got more donations lately, so I was able to buy a better car for my travels."

Satoru's smile didn't flatter at the mention of the cult, he actually seemed more interested.

"Really ? It seems that you built quite a business, that's nice !"

"Yes, it's not too bad. What about you ?" Suguru put an elbow on the table and his chin in his hand, looking at the white-haired man with a gentle smile.

"Me ? Nothing as exciting as you." Satoru shrugged, finally taking his tea in hand and drinking half of it. "I exorcise curses, buy pastries, get into arguments with Yaga because he's fucking annoying, and I train with new students. Same routine as before, basically, I haven't really changed."

"Oh, you still hanging around the school ? I'd thought you'd leave the place the second you'd get your diploma."

Satoru laughed a bit and Suguru watched him with a weird nostalgia. He missed that sound, he missed those nights they spent bitching about their teacher in one of their rooms.

"Yeah well, I didn't really know where to go after that so I stuck around." He scratched his neck and tilted his head the way he always did when he was a bit annoyed. "Yaga is busier since he's the headteacher but he still manages to get time to bother me. Always complaining about shit. The new kids are lame, but they're kind of funny, so it's not too bad. And Shoko stayed too, by the way."

It felt like they were two old friends who lost contact with each other after High School. It felt like they never fought and parted away in that busy street in Shinjuku. It felt like they had always been on good terms, that they just needed to chat around a cup of tea and be reminded of the good old times. It was nice, really nice. It was temporary, of course, they'd eventually have to go back to their people and keep doing what they've been doing those past four years, but for now they could keep pretending. Satoru didn't have any mission incoming and Suguru's next meeting was late in the afternoon. They were not needed anywhere at this hour. They could simply enjoy each other's presence until the duty call.

Till then, the night would be long. And nice.

[resident-gay-bitch]

🏳️‍⚧️ Trans Tuesdays 🏳️‍⚧️

3 times Eddie was shocked to find out things about his friends dating life, and 1 time he was shocked about his own. (Transfem Stevie)

“Wait, what?!” Eddie shouted, staring at Robin incredulous.

“I’m. A. Lesbian.” She repeated, clapping her hands between each word, “Do you need a dictionary definition on what that means, dingus? Because it’s not-“

“No-“ Eddie interrupted, shaking his head, hands sternly on his hips, “I know what a lesbian is, don’t worry. I just didn’t know you were one!”

“Oh… well, yeah, I am.” She shrugged, “Obviously! Whose idea did you think it was to have a Michelle Pfeiffer movie marathon?”

“Huh.” Eddie nodded, giving her a once over, “Well that clears some things up.”

“God, you’re such a dingus sometimes.” Robin snorted, scruffing up his hair, “Come on, we’re gonna be late to meet Stevie if we don’t leave now.”

☆ ★ ☆

“Wait, what?!” Eddie said, doing a double take and charging backwards, almost stacking it down the stairs to the Wheelers basement.

“No! Nothing!” Will shouted, slapping his hand over his mouth, Mike beside him groaned.

“Nuh uh, not nothing. Don’t try to lie to me you little shits. I saw you two smooching it up.” He said, his voice a harsh whisper as he stared down at them. Or, well, attempted to since they’re almost taller than him these days. “Spill.”

“We don’t have to tell you anything.” Mike sassed.

“Oh, yeah?” Eddie sassed right back, “Tell that to the three headed fire breathing dragon who has it out for you, Mighty Palladian.”

Mike groaned, “We’re not gay!”

“Well, last I checked you’re both dudes.” Eddie tutted, “So, what’s this, hmm? I’m not letting you be a little bitch and use your best friend as your experiment.”

“I’d never do that!” Mike clipped.

“Experiment?” Will asked, his face scrunched up.

“Oh, yeah, been there.” Eddie scoffed self-deprecatingly, chucking a thumb at himself, “Don’t tell anyone, but I went through half the football team.”

“Wait, you’re gay?” Mike glared at him.

“Nuh duh.” Eddie blabbered, tongue rolling out of his mouth, “I thought you little shits knew.”

“I knew.” Will shrugged.

“Why did you know?” Mike argued.

“I just knew.” Will said back.

“Hey now, little dudes, enough of that.” Eddie shook his head, “Now come on, what’s going on here? Is this some creepy weirdo exploration thing or have you gone all sweet ‘n shit on each other.”

“Don’t tell anyone, okay.” Will hissed, grabbing Mike's hand, “We’re dating.”

“He didn’t need to know that.” Mike groaned.

“Wouldn’t you rather someone know?” Will raised an eyebrow, “Someone you actually look up to and like?”

“Aww, Little Wheeler, you look up to me?” Eddie asked, a hand splayed over his heart, “I’m honoured.”

“I’m outta here.” Mike rolled his eyes, pushing past Eddie and up the stairs, “I swear if you tell anyone, I’m gonna go steal all your Dungeon Master notes-“

Eddie gasped dramatically, “You wouldn’t!”

“Watch me.” Mike rolled his eyes, accidentally letting a smile slip before he was fully turned around.

☆ ★ ☆

“Wait, what?” Eddie asked, choking on his sandwich, staring up at his uncle.

“I said-“

“I know what you said.” He shook his head, “I just… you are in a relationship?”

“Yes.” Wayne nodded, “I’m very happy.”

“Oh, wow.” Eddie breathed, “I did not expect this happening when I woke up this morning.”

Wayne chuckled at him, “It ain’t that crazy, son.”

“Yeah it is!” Eddie protested, “I didn’t think you even cared about relationships or nothing. You’ve always been just Wayne to me.”

“Yeah, cause you were a sad little kid that needed my full attention.” Wayne huffed, “Now, you’re an adult and I’d like a relationship.”

“Huh…” Eddie nodded, and began to eat his sandwich again, “So can I meet him?”

“You already have.”

“When?” Eddie asked, furrowing his brow.

“His name’s Scott, and I love him very much, and we met at your middle school parent teacher interviews and have been putting off our feelings since then.”

“That long? Wayne!” Eddie groaned, “Is he like a single dad or something?”

“No, he’s your old science teacher.”

“Wait, what!”

☆ ★ ☆

“Wait, what?” Eddie asked, scrunching his face, looking at Steve on the verge of short circuiting.

“Yeah, I just can’t do this anymore, Eddie.” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I like you, so much, and I just…”

“Stevie, I’m gay.” Eddie said, now looking at him with desperation, “Steve I’m so gay, I’m the gayest any dude could ever be. Holy shit, I like you too!”

“You are?” Steve said, his eyes beginning to well up a little.

“Yes!” Eddie said, jumping on the spot, “I’m so fucking gay, Stevie. Gayer than the day is long! Please go out with me.”

Steve huffed, giving Eddie a saddened smile, “I’m not a guy, though.”

“Wait… what?” Eddie asked, scrunching his nose, “What do you mean?”

“I’m transgender…” Steve said, looking at the ground, “I’m actually a woman.”

“Wait, you’re transgender?” He asked, whispering the next part to himself, “God, everythings happening this week…”

Steve nodded her head, “Yeah, I can’t… I’m sorry, Eddie, but if you’re gay-“

“I’m bisexual, actually. I’m so bisexual, please go out with me.”

“Eddie, you can’t just change your sexuality.”

“Uh, well, apparently you can, because I just did.” Eddie sassed, “I was gay, now I’m bisexual, cause I have a big ol’ crush on you, and if you’re a woman, that makes me bisexual.”

Steve glared at him.

“So, can I take you out on a date now?” He said, staring up at Steve with stars in his eyes.

“Are you being serious? This isn’t just a joke, Eddie, it’s my identity.”

“I know.” He said, deadpan, “It’s mine too. Hell, I’m finding so many things out this week, it’s crazy. So like, do I still call you Steve or…?”

“I prefer Stevie.”

Eddie grinned, “Sick. So Stevie, about that date?”

Stevie huffed, “You realise if this goes anywhere I’d be your girlfriend, not your boyfriend.”

“Holy shit, you wanna be my girlfriend?” He beamed at her, “This is so metal, can I kiss you, I wanna kiss you so bad, Stevie, please be my girlfriend right now.”

“Oh…” Stevie muttered, finally smiling, “Yeah, I’d like that.”

Eddie just about fainted.

Stevie has my heart oh my fucking god I love her *Screams hysterically from the rooftops*