#monsters you can't even recognize the shape of but you know had to have been human at some point.. however long ago that was

[nexus-nebulae]

"unless one is willing to accept the Blessings of the Miracle as punishment" im normal about this sentence

[overtaken-stream]

Do you have any writing plans involving Katakuri or the Big mom pirates?

Monster's Voice Is Sweet To Hear

Charlotte Katakuri x F!Wife!Reader

! !NSFW! !

This is from ao3, last year, sorry for any grammar mistakes, as well as my different writing, this is also the first time I wrote filth, aside from the love-making in the Ace fic from Ao3. I want to write something for him but the ideas are just not coming to me. I also didn't specify readers race. Just that it's a female and tall/stronger then a human since we all know Big Mom won't just toss away Katakuri and make him marry a boring human with no specialties. this could work on all shapes and sizes of reader, chubby and skinny.

Word count: 5.8k

Summary: Rarely in the dead of night, a monster such as Katakuri needs love. It's something you can't say no to. After all, how can you deny that unnerving voice of his.

Warnings: Size difference, POST-WANO SPOILERS, multiple rounds.

In the quiet night, where only the humming of your voice is heard.

Light from the cake-inspired lamp bounces off the pink walls the shadow that's in a silhouette of a woman falls onto the giant bed in the center of the room.

On a quiet night, a married girl takes her jewelry off and places it in one of the drawers the magenta bureau contains.

You stand up from the chair, getting closer to the bed. Getting out of your clothes and putting on a modified (F/C) nightgown, you straighten the hot pink details running over your tall figure as you lie down on the heavenly bed.

Only at the sound of a door opening did you quickly get under the blanket. The sound of metal and leather rubbing against itself notifies you of the person who walked in before they can even say anything.

``(Y/N).``

``Katakuri.`` You shyly show your face from the covers to see the sight of your husband of 3 years now, even after all this time you can feel the blush creeping up your face, no matter how long you will never get used to seeing a man that's able to look down at you. That stoic and firey gaze always unleashed the butterflies deep inside your belly.

``I apologize for startling you, I've seemed to... Be distracted lately.`` This was his way of saying I forgot to knock on the door. With much time you start to learn the ways of Katakuri's speech patterns. Start to recognize what words his pride was holding back even from you. Apologetic wasn't one of them. It isn't like he's trying to hide something after all you've seen his biggest weakness in action multiple times, gobbling all kinds of sweets. But never have you thought forgetting was something Katakuri was capable of. It wasn't until after the incident at Pudding's wedding involving the Strawhats that Katakuri's mask, which he had been carrying since marrying you (probably much, much longer than that) truly shattered. Thanks to his younger sister Flampe not keeping her mouth shut about how horrid her big brother is physically and then about his treatment towards her, after what she did. The brat even tried to approach you to run her tongue about Katakuri. Your husband.

Honor is off the table when faced with a person with that kind of mindset. Never mind the respect when facing a worthy opponent.

``Mind if I join you?``

``No, not at all.`` You smile as you watch him carefully get out of his uniform. Never did you imagine you would smile at Katakuri, compared to the sad bride and groom the two of you were. The new life treated you both kindly, it wasn't fast but it wasn't slow-paced either.

The stiff and awkward interactions turned into small conversations about interests and they blossomed into what can only be fondness. The road came with its fare-share of bumps, and both of you dived head first in this with only your families in mind, ready to throw away what little freedom both of you had for your parent's satisfaction.

At the wedding ceremony, walls were built. Walls that cracked the more time you spent with each other.

``Y'know, Luffy was announced as an Emperor today.`` You fill in the silence. Knowing Katakuri's favorite topic you slide in the information.

Katakuri stops mid-changing and raises his head at that. He had told you about Luffy a couple of weeks ago, finally emptying his head to you about the topic he was trying to tell you the moment he returned to your room injured. You didn't push him back then.

The time will come when he'll bring it up. You would tell yourself. It's his calculations of reactions that hold him, little insecurities eating him up and even if the conversation was late, you are happy that he was finally opening up. To you at least.

``Is that so?``

``Yeah, it was in today's newspaper. It said he defeated Kaidou, impressive huh?``

You watch as he nods his head. You debate for a second if you should tell him the next sentence, but he is her son, after all, today he dedicated himself to the library (A time he cherishes since it happens so rarely. A battle with the Straw Hat sure tired him out. You wonder if it's a blessing in disguise sometimes. If it is you wouldn't be surprised.) and judging from his lack of knowledge about the feat Luffy accomplished, you might as well tell him now...

``Surgeon of Death and The Eustass kid from the Worst Generation were involved... They defeated Big Mom.`` At that, you can feel how the temperature drops in the room, his movements to put the clothes back in their place slowed down until they came to a stop. It almost felt like time had stopped.

``I've heard about that. All the commotion in the palace this morning was from Perospero's call. They needed a backup to retrieve them.`` He says as the heavyweight is lifted off the room, letting go of the fabric he was holding onto, the time begins to roll once again.

You don't bat an eye at Katakuri's actions and his casualness. You doubt he would mourn his mother.

You quiver as the blanket is thrown off of you, the chill biting your arms and chest before he joins you on the bed. You fix your body position as the natural warmth his body carries sends shivers down your spine. Your back facing his chest as his giant hand creeps up to cradle your waist.

You shy away or try to. But the moment his fingers softly graze your pelvis, a tight knot starts developing, his shy yet soothing and careful touches sending the blood up to your face.

He's mindful of his heaviness, even if you are taller than a human should be, more tolerant and powerful, he treats you the same as he would to his child siblings, with feather-light touches. It's instinct at this point. It makes you nervous. Makes you red and sad, as well as happy that he also wasn't the only one with bad habits.

Habits that differentiate you two are rare. Since most of them are dependent on higher-than-an-average-human height.

``Is this okay?`` his open eyes travel over your face devoid of any skin color except red. You nod.

``...May I?`` The awkwardness in his voice is precious. Sweet as a mochi should be. Not how a monster's should be.

It makes your heart skip a beat and your core to pulse.

The impatience takes over when he's leaving lingering touches closer and closer to where you would like the itchiness to go away. The temptation to grab his hand and drag it to your genitalia is strong. Biting the bottom lip you feel his hand cup your crotch, and it's a feeling you'll never get tired of.

He shoves the gown's bottom piece up to your belly button, getting the cue you grab the (F/C) silky cloth. It's tacky but it was one of the more subtle ones that Brûlée has picked for you.

You shift your left thigh to the side when the tips of his finger flex on top of your clitoris, a thin layer of fabric stopping him from intruding, yet he is still making you pulse and drowning you in the electric shock of pleasure. The fingers slowly run over it, again and again putting no pressure behind the movement.

When his right-hand digs behind your back, your flushed face barely turns around to ask him what he is doing.

``Changing position...`` Katakuri says as he carefully scoops your neck between his forearm and upper arm, his left hand grabs onto your right hip.

His show of strength as he gets you on top of him in a second, leaves your knees shaking. At first, you lay on his chest with your back pressed against him.

Even with your superior height he somehow manages to make you feel as if you were a human, it makes you doubt your reality for a millisecond, his right hand balancing you and the other one going down your body a bit too fast, your suspicions are confirmed by the impatience with which he tosses the blanket off of your bodies. The room temperature now no longer poses a threat to your skin.

This time he isn't as slow with his actions, leaving the undergarments on, he rubs up and down your slit, feeling its warmth escape onto his sweaty hands.

The quiet room was momentarily full of little gasps and beating hearts of both parties. A squeak leaves your mouth as you rise from your position on his chest, leaning on your elbows that are still... On his chest. The coldness that sudden separation brings on your back is forgotten as you look down to where Katakuri is making laps around you. The moisture grows in seconds when he presses his thumb on your clit, slowly rocking it sideways and tightening the knot deep within you.

You try to bite the bottom of your mouth to not let the noises escape but as Katakuri flattens his hand so his index and middle finger are sliding and tickling your entrance, the task to stay quiet becomes very difficult. You feel the way he snakes his second hand up your breasts while the other separates the undergarment from your folds. Little moans sneak past your lips as you look straight down, the bulge that shows from underneath your thighs just makes your heart beat out of your ribcage.

Katakuri lays his forehead on your shoulder as he feels the wetness coating the surroundings of your entrance, he knew the smaller hands were coming before feeling them pull down the owner's panties, momentarily stopping for her to take it off before he continued infiltrating it. His right hand fondling with your breasts squishing them but not rough enough to hurt you.

For a split second, you felt the pain of the stretch, arching your back and tossing your head over his shoulder as Katakuri's other hand played with the silk-covered nipple, he pushed his forehead down on your cleavage, it wasn't in his intentions but the size difference was really making your mind mushy.

You could feel him shaking from below you as you rest on top of him, closed eyes and clean mind absorbing your movements.

For a couple of seconds, you lay like that, panting breathes and already sweat covered. He won't move. He won't hurt you. He'll give you time to adjust.

Your hand lands on his crimson hair, fingers run through the short pink layers devoid of grey. It startles him, eyes snapping open he looks to his left shoulder where you are resting your head and meets his beloved's smiling face staring back at him.

Pink dusted his cheeks and as his heart jumped, his mouth opened and closed, this nervous feeling is shameful to him. The big brother Katakuri was still getting used to his new-not-so-new feelings towards new-not-so-new his wife, and expressing them to her face turned out to be the most complicated and difficult part. (Aside from Brûlée, she has seen him at his worst. It's a new feeling, a new type of embarrassment he hasn't experienced with anyone, not even Brûlée. The thought of this ever getting out almost frightens him. It frightens him.)

At last, he chooses to look away as you chuckle.

``C-can you move now?`` He nearly forgot.

``Are you... Sure?``

``Yeah, now c'mon... I was so close...``

He continues his motions with soft pink shades over his face, and slowly the two fingers slide deeper into your gummy walls. The clenching makes him wish it was some other part of his inside of you instead of his fingers. He listens as hisses leave your lips from the painfully nice stretch, the tears gathering at the corner of your eyes being wiped away by Katakuri's other hand that took a break from playing with your breasts, he feels his boxer get tighter when your legs shake around his massive thighs, for a second he feels glad that you aren't super tiny, it makes this feel like the first time both of you did it. It holds a special place in his heart, the lovely touches have never been that satisfying. And every time you take your time to show affection to him during it- he falls further and further in love with you. Even if he doesn't show it, or return them, he appreciates the gestures.

He knows it's time to start the actions of love and that you would certainly never reject it. It's the childish fear keeping his head and eyes locked away during them. Is he shy? Maybe. Does he wan't to return the gesture? Some would think that he doesn't.

The whimpering noises fill his head as he finally went in knuckle deep, he lifts his head from your cleavage and brings your face closer for a kiss, eating the deep moan that leaves your mouth when he pulls out his finger and pushes it back into the warmth. Watching with open eyes how your eyebrows point up in pleasure twisting into a lustful picture he'll love for the rest of his life. The fact that he is the only one who's allowed to see it makes his head dizzy with what other expressions he could steal from you.

He slowly fastens his pace, making and leaving your walls a mess before he gets back in and fixes it with his fingers, finding that spongey spot was easy, having it memorized Katakuri curves his fingers upwards and pistons into it, barely taking his fingers out.

One after another lustful noises (now louder than ever) escape before you can bite your tongue. At some point, drool started coming out of your mouth. Eyes closed you can feel how Katakuri milked your sweet spot brutally, making your cunt weep and sting oh so impossibly delightfully.

His hand and your thights are all wet now.

``Just aah little m-more...!``

You were so close. So incredibly close.

The moment Katakuri forced his hand to dig deeper in your cunt, to get past the line of his knuckles, and pushed upwards into your belly, forcing you to arch for him harder was the moment you were seeing stars.

Your closed eyes were going into your head and your wide mouth was slack as he held your hip with one hand and rubbed your clit faster than ever with the other one. Throwing you off the edge and finally loosening the knot that was tied at the start, slick now not-so-unclear dribs down your slit, he doesn't let you have a break, hand still accompanying you even after your orgasm.

You don't complain.

He slowly pushes your pelvis down with his forearm to meet his hips, not slowing his fast-paced rubbing. Your moans are now as free as they can be, but you limit yourself, wanting to hear little grunts and deep slow moans from Katakuri. You honestly think you could cum from his voice alone.

He's beautiful you think.

His eyes are closed, the furrowing thin eyebrows holding onto the sweat drops that are covering his face in a thin layer of gloss. His eyes are closed yet he seems so concentrated to make you cum again. The vein in his forehead is on full display for you. His naturally long eyelashes adorned his hooded eyes.

``You're Beau...tiful... Kata...``

The way he hides his mouth in your cleavage and not in your shoulder because of his big size, the way he is avoiding eye contact the moment you whispered those two words. The way your heart shattered, is like no other pain you've felt. Because this boy is so... So incredibly sad. You want to kiss the pain away, the worries to be crushed under your tall figure. You want to shield him because he deserved so much more than this family.

``Sooo pretty... C-can you look...at me?`` Exhausted, you reach out.

You don't pay attention to the second orgasm, too busy complimenting him about his beauty. You miss how he is rutting his clothed hips right on your naked ass. You don't miss how he turns his face to the opposite side from you, you don't miss the red-colored ears as you hug his neck. Biting his ears as you are getting closer yet again. You notice how he's gone quiet the moment you praised him. How he is listening to your moans right in his ear.

Suddenly he crashes his hips into you, stinging sensations of him losing grip on his strength lays mockingly on the prints he has branded on both sides of your hips. Even if you were drowning in an indescribable pleasure you didn't miss the way he threw his head back, he almost roars a held-back-moan as wetness spreads on your ass. You don't have to look down to know that both of you guys's cum is wetting the sheets below.

Did he cum by pleasuring you?

Shit... That's so... Hot.

You've known there were ten million ways to love somebody and this. This was one of them.

Katakuri relaxes on the pillow behind him, coming down from the high he tossed both of you in, your arms still around his neck. He opens his eyes looking down at your face, It's a mess really, with sweat and hair sticking on your forehead, swollen lips from the previous kiss (he spends extra seconds looking and feeling the breasts resting against his own skin) but it doesn't matter to him, all he sees are the fruits of his labor. He finally removes his hands from your hips, his gaze falling on a now-covered-by-your-nightgown spot.

Did he leave a mark?

A giggle escapes from your lips before you can stop it, earning a playful glare from his direction. What's so funny?

``Aha-I'm sorry, it's just. You're so red!`` He looks through you, unfocusing his eyes before turning his (now red from embarrassment) face away from you.

You rub your cheek against him, feeling the stitch scars that lead to his mouth hole.

``Awh! C'mon don't hide from me!``

``...You're getting brave (Y/N)...``

``I don't have to be brave to call my husband beautiful and handsome! Plus you're so cute right now!``

``I'm not cute...``

``Sure you're not.`` You're pushing it. You are sure as hell not sure where this confidence came from but you aren't complaining.

Putting your hand under his chin and turning his face toward you.

His eyes settle on your lips before you pull yourself up to make your (S/C) lips land on his monstrous mouth. Like a beast, he doesn't close his eyes, unlike you.

Yet again choosing to make up for the time he closed his eyes during the sex. Staring into your wet eyelashes.

His left arm drags you so impossibly closer to his chest, in a hug while his other hand puts a strand of (H/C) hair back over your ear. When you try to pull away he follows your lips down. Cherishing the strawberry residue that the lipstick left.

A couple of moments last of you two in a romantic kiss before it turns into playful pecks across each other faces. Katakuri was careful with his fangs, still getting used to having someone get as close as he was to the white knives. He calls them and judging from the sharpness you can't exactly call him wrong.

It lasts like that for more than necessary. The sweet touches turned harsh from him is a normal feeling for you, pain tolerance is one of your specialties. It's in your blood. There is nothing he could do from the outside that could hurt you. From the inside, it's a different story.

It's the reason why Charlotte Linlin chose you to be the bride for her second son.

``He's a monster in humans skin,`` She said.

``Better have that scarf around you at all times Katakuri, don't frighten the soon-to-be bride.``  She said at one of the tea parties she had invited your family over.

It was humiliating for him to hear those words, let alone in front of a different kingdom's royal family. Those words were enough for you to have an opinion set on Big Mom.

And Katakuri too. It was respect, you respected him for putting up with people like his mother daily. Another thing to add in the similarities chart besides the height.

``Don't you think your genetic powers would make lovely children for my boy here darling? Wouldn't that be wonderful?``

You pity the children you have to give birth to. Because you know it will happen.

Her piercing gaze and a change in tone was the only reason you nodded your head. It was how the entire party went actually, with you acting like one of Big Mom's homies. Bobbing your head to every compliment she would say about you and your powers.

Maybe that's what left a sour taste in Katakuri's mouth. Why he avoided you for a couple of months after the wedding, he probably saw you as a fragile bimbo who was swayed by fear.

You would hate to say it but the truth is always hard to swallow.

It was what you were before the wedding and after. No doubt about that. The fear of upsetting a bomb that was Big Mom terrified you to your core. You could take Katakuri ignoring and avoiding you but you could never say no to them, the strings she had on your family were too tightly tied around their necks to risk it. Not to mention the thousands of people's lives each of your family member represented.

``The more you fuck around the more you're gonna find out`` As your diplomat father would say in all kinds of situations. It's just that in this instance it wasn't comedic.

It was a psychological thriller. And fucking around you couldn't.

It was a sad start to your relationship with him, an unwanted marriage both of you were against at first, maybe in another lifetime one of you would have had a voice to protest it. But for now, you enjoy the soft embrace of his arms around your shoulders. A loud banging of his heart against your ear.

The chill of the aftermath leaving your body and replacing it with a sticky feeling between your crotch and the smell of sex that wasn't visible at the time.

``Well then, don't you want to clean yourself up?``

``No, I don't.``

``W-why not?`` Usually, Katakuri loves his cleanliness, organization, and tidiness. He showers after coming home, often he's the one running to the bathroom with towels in his hands before you can even process that you've arrived home.

``...I just don't want this to end.``

``... You...`` And you thought Katakuri had run out of his surprise factor. It makes you want to toss your feet in the air with tiny kicks, giggles and everything, it makes you blush.

Seriously? Why are you acting like a schoolgirl with a crush on her upperclassmen?! Have you lost all your marbles in you, woman?! Where is the royal blood?!

You can practically feel the inner, secondary or tiny voice in your head yelling at you.

``Y... You do...?`` Unbelievable.

A nod from him is all you need.

``Y'know, we don't... Have to end it...``

``What?`` God his obliviousness makes you want to strangle him.

``We can... Continue it instead...I-i mean... If you... Want..?`` You run your index finger over his chest, tracing the tattoo with half-lidded eyes and lips in a kissing position. If this isn't lustfull, you don't know what is.

``...``

``...``

``... We can?`` His shocked eyes leave you once again, speechless.

``Of... Of course, we can! If you have any energy left that is... What made you think that we couldn't..?``

Sex is something that rarely happens between you and him since both of you most of the time are sent out for missions separately, however, If your memories aren't lying to you there are a total of four times (not counting this one) that you guys have slept together. How many times did he want to cuddle after sex? 2 times? 3 times?

Such a bad wife you've been to him.

WHAT DON'T THINK LIKE THAT!

Your questions go unanswered. Instead, he gently turns you onto your back, his hands balancing himself like a pole, they shut off your field of vision 'till you can't look anywhere instead up.

And up you look.

You think it's a sight any fair lady would go feral over. So what if you've seen this many times before, it never fails to make you nervous, the confidence dripping off of him, even if shaky eyesight proves just how unconfident he is.

Swoon over him you do.

The feeling you got at the start of the night coming back ten times stronger and filling up your heart until it's back to the pace it was before, this time maybe even shaking sideways for dramatic or. romantic effect.

Your breathing quickens as his head follows his body that was leaning on his thighs which were usually heavy with accessories of any kind, mostly following his gothic style with minor changes. Now he stands on top of your legs with his free-of-any-weight ones, caging yours with his knees. He has a charm in the way he travels his hand down on your skin, giant fingers ghosting over the most sensitive of places. The size difference isn't much but staring at your squished thighs and comparing it to the thickness of his knees makes your breath hitch, gulping you look up towards his face.

Katakuri's sharp crimson eyes glimmer down at you.

He had never once failed to make you feel so unbelievably small under his gaze, you find this exact moment perfect to take off your sticky nightgown that's wet with substances from both of your bodies. It turns out to be a good hiding device for your face, too bad it only lasts a couple of seconds before Katakuri gets suspicious.

Once over your head, you toss the (F/C) fabric somewhere on the floor. Presenting your fully naked body to him.

You don't know when or how he got the boxer off, but he now stands in all of his glory. One would think he was flexing his muscles, and he was. With how heavily Katakuri was breathing, you would have run your fingers up his tattoo if he didn't grab your legs first, taking them out of his leg jail, it was an awkward struggle to pull them over his thighs but he managed to not stretch it out for too long.

It felt so right, you against him fitting like puzzle pieces, your warm legs clinging onto his hips that are the perfect fit for your long legs.

It's your fantasy coming to life and so is his.

Katakuri pulls your hips near his pelvis to get you in a comfortable position. His fingers play with your now relaxed entrance. His other hand strokes his sex in front of you.

Shyness is thrown out of the window.

``I'll... Be slow.`` He always says that. But he can not help the roughness come into play the moment you get used to having him inside you.

You shiver as his head presses against your folds, hiss as it's slowly getting past the cold surface and into the warmth your insides bring. You hear him let out a grunt of his own. The shakiness of his hands on your hips calms the arch your back has been put into.

Katakuri pushes in with slow motions.

He tries to distract you will little strokes up and down your arched back.

You try to not tense up, you really do, but his fingers weren't enough for you to have been ready for his cock. It has that extra length and thickness his fingers weren't capable of having.

The sting leaves you panting and watery-eyed.

Katakuri looks down at you, completely stopping his actions when the walls around his girth close his pathway to bliss.

He lets you relax and adjust to his length. Looking at your face when you wipe your not-yet-spilled tears. Feeling the walls grip and loosen around him makes him close his eyes, ignoring the sparks of pleasure that are signaling him to just rut into you. He turns his face back to you, opening his eyes.

Katakuri doesn't ask you to relax, he knows you're already doing that and he knows you'll signal him to move onward, there is no need to remind you of what's obvious. So he stays quiet, humming and touching you elsewhere across your body, a gentleness he didn't know was capable of, coming forward and dripping honey over your pain, sugarcoating it with his lips that are kissing up your neck.

You put your hands over his shoulders, feeling the pain go away only for it to be replaced by numbness. calming down you nod your head against his scarred cheek.

``You can go on... Now.`` And he does. Slowly and surely with the help of the previous round. He bottoms out.

Your walls surround him, while his grunts surround your head. Both of you stay still for a moment, him going back to kissing your shoulder while you hug his neck, lost in ecstasy.

The world is summed down to only him and you, even if you are running your eyes on the walls of the room, you're still breathing in his leftover cotton cologne, lingering on his skin for just a bit longer.

He starts moving, god he starts moving.

Rocking into you slower than ever, stickiness in your crotch area goes unnoticed. The feeling of him moving and dragging the pleasure away only for him to slide back in, adding the rubbing against your clit with his shortened pubes is soul-shattering in a pleasing way, making your brain mush and your mouth full of unholy sounds.

Sweat dribbles down the side of his face still buried in your shoulder. He is not a man who leaves hickeys. Even though It's impossible since he can't exactly hurt you, although he enjoys leaving marks with anything else, they don't last long, only a couple of minutes before it's back to the way your skin was. But he likes having your signatures on his back especially since that's the only place covered by his jacket in the public.

Even now you leave tiny trails with your nails on his back, not strong enough to break the skin but just enough for them to look like a part of his tattoo gone wild. it just sums up more blood on the southern side of his body, getting him harder than he was before.

It's too much for you when he starts setting a fast pace, his hips meeting yours midway through your grinding, it's too much you tell yourself.

The way he is holding his wide torso with his elbows right beside your shoulders since you didn't let go of his neck since you grabbed it. You feel silly, sticking yourself onto him this way but he doesn't have any complaints. Even if it's too much how you cum yet again with shaky legs and slick dripping down your crack and onto your arched back. Too much of him rocking into you. The mattress below you squicking and rocking with his thrusts. Not only the mattress, but his thrusts also drag your entire body with him, meeting him halfway through his pulling. Too much moaning coming from your side, it's too good.

Too good to tell him to stop.

You can't tell when you came again, the shakiness is blending in with his hips crashing into yours, and you can't tell what is your natural body's doing and what is Katakuri making your body do.

Him finding the sweet spot was the last thing you wanted him to do. You wanted him to find it.

But judging from the electricity hitting you full force again and again and again, making you cry out in all kinds of movements to push him away, you can't be sure.

Katakuri takes advantage of your vulnerability and pulls you away from him so you could relax on the light pink pillow almost swallowing you whole. Allowing him to thrust at a slightly different angle, an angle that also relieves tension from your back.

He straightens himself, now standing on his knees as he looks down at where your bodies are connected, he lands his hands on your hips setting an almost inhuman pace you aren't able to keep up with.

Not with your body and not with your mind.

He pays no attention to your face, you've had enough of that before. Instead, he watches as his hands slam your hips to him, and your poor clit swollen and sad, lies helplessly. Taking him with no problems.

``A-ah little more..`` he moans out. You want to cry at how much he wants to drag this out.

You can tell by the way his hips stutter before calming down completely, going back to the slow pace he did at the beginning.

It's too much.

``Katah-kuri, please!-`` Your voice cuts off by a scream that left your mouth when he slammed his hips back into you unexpectedly.

You can hear him chuckle lightly at your trembling figure lying under him.

It's like he is teasing you and himself.

Tears drip down your face as he repeats it a few times more, before grinding his pelvis when fully entering you cleanly. Your abused cunt beats against the few pubes it has stuck in the wetness surrounding it.

He doesn't let your wobbly legs slide down his thighs, holding them harshly and not letting your bottom parts get away from him.

You can feel it before it comes. The way a vein in his dick starts pulsing and throbbing. Filling your insides to the brim.

You don't look down, instead, you pay attention to Katakuri's Addams apple bobbing up and down in his thick throat accompanied by sweat drops, the way his heavy jaw comes up and down, and the way his eyes are closed and tensed as are his eyebrows. How the other shoulder free of any tattoo (one which you were previously gnawing on) is red colored. It's shiny with spit, tears, and sweat.

It's as far as you get before your heart finally calms down, forcing your eyes to close and your body to pass out, exhaustion finally catching up to you. The last thing you see is a blurry figure of Katakuri looking down at you.

His worried voice calls out to you.

And here you thought you could endure a monster's sweet voice.

[daintylovers]

obsessed with the idea of snow x reader x lucy

like how you meet lucy first, being part of the covey

so obviously lucy and you are pretty close right off the bat

its a running joke around twelve that you guys will get married and somehow have children

its said with cruel intent but lucy sees it as the best possible future she could have

i mean why wouldn't she want to spend the rest of her life with you? she's already spent this much of it doing the same

all you two need to communicate with is one little look

its a furrow of the brows from her and wide eyes from you

lucy isn't a naturally anxious person- carefree and wild is more her lane

but when it comes to you, she can't help but almost mother hen you

always watching out for you during her concerts

and she won't hesitate to get in a fight with a local if it means getting his attention away from you

her worry only increases when she gets reaped

her first thought isn't even about herself

it's about you

if she's gone, you become public domain again

and the pair of you have made plenty of enemies who are just itching to get you alone

but before she can even take her first steps up the stairs a hand shoots out from the audience

someones taking her place- thank god

but, no, not thank god at all

in fact, there probably isn't even a god because if there was, then it wouldn't be you whose hand was raised

as if things couldn't get worse for the songbird

she gets ushered away and the two of you cross paths

she goes out to try to get a grip on you, but the guards yank her away

it's weird because she almost feels betrayed?

how could you do this to yourself? to her? how is she supposed to live if you aren't by her side?

as you make your way up the stage, every piece of you cracks in some way or another

the games have already begun to shape you into a monster

lucy can see it in your eyes, the light faded out

later on, after a day or so of travel, you've decided to try and forget about lucy

it will be easier to die without the reminder of what you've left behind

but also easier to kill, if you have no one who remembers the way you used to be

you've barely talked to the male from your district

in fact, you don't really recognize him

but when he sees you staring, he calls out your name

your stone-cold face doesn't make a change, so he tells you that he knows lucy

fuck

that he's heard all about you and will try to protect you as best as he can

well- so much for forgetting about her

you tell him you don't need his protection and try to shrug him off

it hurts more than you thought it would

the boy wakes you up when you arrive at the capitol

you don't bother to learn his name, it will be easier to kill him if you aren't attached

stepping out of the train car, you see a tall blonde man wearing a ridiculous amount of red pacing around with something in his hands

it's clear he isn't meant to be there, so you don't pay him any mind

but when he turns around and sees the boy from your district, he knows that the smaller figure beside him must be you

his tribute

as soon as he witnessed your little display of love for lucy, the longing looks the two of you shared before being ripped apart, he knew he was in luck

knowing the name of the person you clearly loved most would help him shape you into a nasty little thing for the arena

you would be the key to the plinth price money after all

but jesus you sure are smaller than expected

i guess television does make everything look grander

he calls out your name, but you don't turn to face him

he tries again and gets a little frustrated at the lack of acknowledgment he receives

so he moves to tap you on the shoulder, but as soon as one of his slim fingers meets your shoulder, you swing at him

I'm taking closed fist knuckles out hard as hell swing at him

obviously, it takes him by surprise, and on the impact his head goes flying to the side and he stumbles back, the rose he had been holding dropped from his grip

you move to keep walking forward but he recovers himself and practically yanks you around back to him, holding you away from him like a stray cat

glaring up at him, you still don't say anything, making him feel more uneasy than if you would have started screaming at him

he tries your name again, maybe the television got your name wrong?

but when he says your name for the final time, your eyes water

it's subtle, something only a man like snow would recognize

he said it just like lucy would

except lucy would be holding you tighter

she would feel warmer

this man feels cold, isolated, and dangerous

he introduces himself and you almost laugh at the irony, snow, of course his name is snow

well it's not fully snow, of course he has a first name

but snow suits him better

he tells you that he's your mentor, here to help you win the games

he offers you the rose that he's retrieved from the ground but you don't take it

please is all he says

and maybe it's because he reminds you of the comfort lucy would have given to you, or maybe it's because he just looks positively pathetic, groveling like a little kicked puppy, that you take the damned rose from his awaiting hands

he smiles at you, flashing pearly whites

a sting of insecurity shoots through you, your teeth definitely looked like a lemon compared to his shiny ones

just another reminder of how different you two really are

thank you, you offer him, you're covey and covey know their manners, even in the face of their oppressors

you turn to leave him again, but can still feel his presence close behind

looking around you notice that he's the only mentor here

it makes you feel uncomfortable

now there was a huge target on your back

and that fear is confirmed when you hop into the truck and are met with snickers and glares from your peers

and snow only makes things worse when he jumps in with you all at the last minute

maybe if you don't interact with him, they'll see that you are still one of them

still just a lowly district kid with no other option

you watch as he gets ganged up on and when he looks at you with pleading eyes, a hint of guilt racks you

but he's capitol, you remember, and capitol wouldn't save you either

so you let them at him

but when the truck car starts to tilt, he still moves to protect you, shoving the kids off him and caging you in his arms

his tribute will not die because of shitty driving

everyone tumbles out of the car and into the wild

and when snow pulls you up and away, you see that it really is the wild

you are now caged in some lame forest area?

you aren't really sure what it is because the crowd outside the cage is really throwing you off

and then you see the camera crew and the happy announcer in the middle

but the guy also sees you and snow, locked in each other's embrace

it mortifies you, lucy will see this

you detach yourself as quick as lightning and make your way to the man, who is equally as curious about you as you are about him

and who might you be? wait, hold on, we know you, you're the girl from twelve who sacrificed herself for her lover. tell me, do you regret it?

every part of you screams to spit in his face, how dare he use you like bait for the audience?

but two can play that game

i would never regret saving someone i love. would any of you? lucy gray, i miss you every day, and I'll continue to miss you even when I'm gone and grey.

A/N: tumblr is yelling at my computer and saying this is too long so I've cut it in half. but if you want more let me know because i love this dynamic and i barely explored it here lmfao. had to lay the ground work yk! anyways, lot of love <3

[thelambprince]

Can I request a Underfell Grillby with a water spirit/elemental SO?

Anon. Of course you may.

I never thought this day would come. I had to pause and be like "do i... write fanfic? Do people know I DO that on Tumblr dot com?". Then I realized it doesn't matter, because they will. I still don't know why everyone loves my intersex reader one-shot but I'm happy to do more lmao

Sorry that it took me several eternities to see and write this, I never thought I'd have this opportunity. It would be funny, though, if you accidentally sent the ask to me instead of your fav writer lol

Favorable Conditions– Underfell Grillby x Water Spirit/Elemental S/O Oneshot

Warning(s)/General Tags: Description on how a Water Elemental/Spirit Eats, Strangers to Friends, Mutual Pining, I forget how I initially characterized this AU Grillby so sorry if it's inconsistent, maybe OOC Grillby but I like to think not

He was closing the bar per usual and taking the time to stretch. 'Fuck, my back hurts,' he thought, flames crackling brighter.

-- -- --

From safe kitchen doors, I peak my head out to investigate the noise. The purple-flamed monster turns his head disinterestedly to see the water spirit that's been staying with him aboveground.

And he smiles at me, making my form melt.

"Looking for more work?" He teases, giving a wicked smirk. I point to the kitchen to tell him what's wrong, which garners Grillby's attention. He, also quietly, approaches me and leans close to see what I'm pointing at. He's so close, it kind of distracts me. So close, I can feel him without hurting anyone...

And Grillby realizes the problem. I was not very compatible with his grill and hoped to clean it, but I don't have any gloves that would fit me for this task.

The gloves he usually wears while cleaning his grill wouldn't work either as I usually can't grip larger accessories—

Ugh, he just knew this day would be a pain in the ass.

"The grill isn't going to burn you and it shouldn't be hot anymore. You could probably still wash the grill if you wanted to," he muses, "with you being made of water. You know where I keep the dish soap, and the baking soda is..." He trails off. And blinks at me, owlishly.

"What?" He askes, rather confused by my face.

"...I can't exactly touch dish soap. Tasting it wouldn't hurt, but it would be a hard taste to be rid of, and it can get everywhere—" "You what." He just. Blinks again at me.

Now it's my turn to look at him with confusion.

"Don't you eat with your fire?" I ask. He chuckles at that. "No? And come to think of it, I don't think I've ever seen you eat!" He thinks aloud. Then he rushes into the kitchen and grabs something out of the fridge, wincing at the coldness and moving it between his hands. He moves it to the countertop and places some chicken nuggets in a pan under a grill grate, closest to where the fire will be.

Then, there's fire.

I watch, quite dumbfounded at his excitement to make these chicken nuggets, that I leer closer at the flames and the way his body moves. It's enthustic, wanting to bubble with laughter, but that same care is always there. No matter what he makes, who he makes it for, the love of his craft and especially the love of who he might make it for is obviously there.

It can be easily seen that he's not just heating up chicken nuggets as a joke towards some stranger— he seems genuinely excited about our time after working hours. Even if he clearly wants to play it off as a joke to laugh at me.

No, Grillby was much more good-natured than he let on. His willingness to engage with me, despite the cultural oddity of verbal speaking or mixing things up with an elemental that could easily dust him...

Were I not the same elemental who hide in waterfalls and ponds, maybe I would have minded more.

And like that, his chicken nuggets are done. They are in the shape of monsters I don't recognize. Those human stores have them— 'dinosaur nuggets'? Maybe the King's Favorite Human orders them occassionally?

Grillby playfully hums a tune and unceremoniously dumps my snack on one of his personal plates.

He then clears his throat and keeps a straight face.

"So, before you show me how it's done, we have some things to discuss."

Then his face seems more strict, and I remember that this is Grillby.

"Like how you didn't tell me you needed gloves. Were you just avoiding the soap and dirty water this WHOLE time?" He asks, fire crackling much louder than what I'm used to.

Well, I'm going to be honest.

"Most people don't consider how water elementals can taste or eat. The workarounds are fairly convient and it's not too much fuss to quietly find them, anyways," I add, which softens Grillby's features. Actually, he seems... quite regretful. I wouldn't be surprised if he knew what I meant, being a fire elemental himself.

"And you took my offer anyways? You didn't have to do that." He sort of grumbles, absentmindly watching as I grab one of the chicken nuggets he made.

I look at it with a sort of bored gaze. "I wanted to. And for the record, I wouldn't have cared if you never noticed or asked. You're a great company to be around." I bite into chicken nugget, which sort of floats into my head before being magically dissolved into the water that makes up my body.

I catch Grillby staring into my eyes before conjuring an argument.

"But I'd help you anyways. If you were just desperate to leave that pond, I would have helped you find something else!" Grillby seems more frustrated. That's right.

I found Grillby with the rain was pouring outside this store. Being so new to the surface, we were both caught off guard when the rain could just. Appear anywhere? So he had no umbrella but the guy inside kind of pissed him off, so he wasn't going to buy an umbrella. He planned on waiting, until I gave him my umbrella.

I only ever carried one because Waterfall had them aplenty and the taste of cave ceiling condensate gets repetitive and repulsive with time. Lucky for Grillby, I kept it out of habit and saw the perfect opportunity to leave it with someone who would actually need it now.

Grillby (very reluctant and suspiciously) took the umbrella, checked it for holes or intentional slashes. Keeping an eye on me for any sudden or lethal movements.

When he determined that the umbrella was actually perfectly fine, he took the umbrella with more poise.

"Thanks," he muttered, and tested how well it kept off rain. Then walked with it, marveling at the shelter it provided, before he turned around. "If you don't plan on keeping it, I wouldn't mind having it," he (sort of) joked, which you calms waved off. "Keep it," you insisted. Then you walked off, continuing past the building for the one you actually came for.

Grillby could never forget how odd and kind the interaction was. This was the surface, huh?

Not a bad place to open shop, if a monster like YOU was here, too.

And when you ran into each other again, living at this new pond on the surface, you found yourself in a bit of situation.

Winter was approaching, which means you'd be trapped under the ice. And bear in mind, your pond was small and empty of fish. But if you left, you would probably have to go back underground and how would you work? What if another elemental took your pond?

Well, you were just going to have to figure something out.

On your way to work, you came by your bus stop. We'll, who would uave known? A familiar elemental showed his face, umbrella on hand in case of emergency.

Both of you talked, he joked, you laughed. It was a nice moment on a mundane day, between two unsuspecting elementals that crossed paths again. You told him your struggles for winter, he offered a job. You know, as thanks for valuing his time.

At first, you rejected. Didn't know the guy, who he really was, but he held the offer out in case you needed it.

You talked some more the following days. You got his number and met at all sorts of places. When you came to his bar, well... it was better than a pond. He laid his offer out.

That wasn't very long ago, but the time you've known him has certainly been something.

Back to your current situation, Grillby was more than sure he wanted to make out with you right here, right now. It didn't matter that the shop only just closed, or that you were both friends, or that he swore that it'd be a miracle if anything happened between you. His fear of water was there, yes, but there had to be some magic that allowed him to kiss you. To hold you. To craddle your face as you looked up to him with those watery eyes.

And it wasn't fair. It's not fair that he has to yearn like this when you were so close, so impossible close that he wanted to just lean in and risk it anyways. But even if he truly believed you felt just as strongly about him (which he doesn't), he would be at risk of hurting you, too. And he didn't pummel a few customers for making fun of you, because he didn't care.

Gods, if he could have one wish...

"I was in a bad spot, but I still choose to take your offer. So far, I still think you'll be one hell fo a roommate." You give him a little bit of a winning smile and he's reeling back to reality.

Right, of course. He nods.

"Just don't think you have to do everything yourself. We're roommates for a reason," he complains, which you blissfully tune out as you eat the rest of your nuggets.

'Roommates', you say? That's what you both agreed to. And as long as he's near you, maybe 'roommate' will be good enough for now.

[bonefall]

Oh I ADORE the idea of a Bumble/Star Flower dynamic. I always imagine Star Flower to have this sweet and soft exterior to her that allows her to manipulate Clear Sky, but is in actuality a cold, solemn, purpose-minded cat who takes no shit. Her geniunely taking interest in this sweetheart kitty who's full of confidence (and probably hates Clear Sky's guts as much as she does LMFAO) is so intriguing pleaaaaase tell me more ❤️

At the moment it's just sort of indulgence because I think their dynamic is interesting, so I haven't completely leaned onto it yet. I probably will though.

What I like a lot about them is that they're so different, yet so alike. They're both victims of their canon's misogyny, in opposite ways. It killed Bumble and prevented Star Flower from being what she could fully be.

In BB, Star Flower was the high priestess of One Eye, in one way, a daughter in others. He was violent and controlling. She was charming and capable. She did exactly what he wanted from her, and she enjoyed being his devotee. They loved each other like a parent and child, and for him, she would stay blind to the pain in the world.

Because she KNOWS that what she does hurts and kills people. Clear Sky isn't the first cat she's skilfully bled out slowly. But when her God is involved, this is not a terrified, screaming person on an altar. It's meat to be prepared for her beloved father.

And as long as she has One Eye to serve, she doesn't have to think about the humanity that is part of her new form. In a way, she's the same extinct medicinal flowers she used to be, before she took a shape as a mortal. She's his treatment. His bouquet. The flowers at a funeral.

And that's a kind of toxic dynamic, too, yknow. To love someone who merely offers you the simplicity of being their butcher.

How could she ever have prepared for his DEATH? To be SEPARATED from him? She is like an angel separated from her lord, whose one purpose has been destroyed.

And then she seduces Clear Sky, the treacherous beast who betrayed them. She'll bleed him like a goat, and be reunited with her father. And even more--

She'll offer it to Thunderstar, too! He understands her anger! Skystar is a snake who's bitten him as well. He will be grateful. There will be more who worship the warmth of the God of Summer, just like her.

But he rejects it, and you know why?Because he's had a toxic dad too.

Not one he loved like she did her own, but it gave him the clarity to realize that sacrificing Skystar HERE, after being backstabbed at his lowest point and suffering for hours, to bring a MONSTER back into the world, would just be revenge.

...and revenge is what Star Flower wants, too. She's hurt, but doesn't recognize that emotion.

(Still working out the climax of Thunderstar's Justice. I'm thinking that One Eye pops up, half-ressurected, and turns on Star Flower for his last sacrifice and Thunderstar saves her from that)

And after that, she can't go back to SkyClan. Of course.

When she speaks to Bumble for the first times, Star Flower is still threatening betrayals. Insisting, chuckling, that she's done Terrible Things and will do them again.

And Bumbs clocks immediately, "You're doing that to get a rise out of me and it won't work because no one would tease their secret evil scheme."

Bumble is going through a lot right now, actually. Thunderstar is getting good at speaking Parkmew on his own, now. Sparrow Heart, her daughter, betrayed her to join SkyClan in the pursuit of power. Her son Pebble Heart goes by Owl Eyes these days, and he's a big strong warrior who doesn't need her. It seems like no one needs her.

She talks a big game about her self-worth, but a lot of it is bluster and self-assurance. She'll insist she's the BEST AND COOLEST CAT THIS SIDE OF THE EVERYWHERE but she's hiding a LOT of guilt, none of it deserved.

I feel like Star Flower is fascinated by this. The dishonesty here. How Bumble presents herself as boisterous and over-confident, but hides a great sadness within it.

Ahh, Bumble wants a God to serve too, doesn't she? Everyone does. Is a Clan a sort of God to serve? ...yes, this is making sense.

For Bumble to Star Flower... she's brand new, an outsider just like she was once. A very strange one with strange humor, who exists at a time when her life is undergoing a lot of changes. She likes the way Star Flower is so interested in her. She enjoys showing her around the territory.

God, sometimes it just... it reminds her of Turtle Heart, you know? Before Tom came. When it was just them, and they were young and they were learning all these wonderful things together.

It never got better, really, losing her lover and her best friend. She's just been GO GO GOing for years, GO out of this Clan, GO get your kittens, GO open negotiations. It wasn't until NOW that she's really had time to process the loss of Turtle Heart.

And that's sort of where they are, now. There's not really an end in sight, they're just very involved and interested in each other. Not quite courting, but not NOT courting either. Sappho and her acquaintance lmao.

[fuckmeyer]

HEY i'm having unhinged carlisle/edward thoughts again and i had to come into your inbox to share them because YOU DID THIS TO ME--

but truly. like. the bond between creator and created. (this may or may not have been inspired by a conversation with su-angelvicioso about yknow. a different ship) the creator recognizes themself in the created, the created knows the creator because they were shaped so fundamentally by them...so any time they're looking at the other person they're seeing themself, but also any time they see themself they're seeing the other...there's no way to define yourself except in the differences and similarities you have to this person who you know more intimately than anyone else in the world, except really your view of them will ALWAYS be distorted by your view of yourself...like!!!!

edward thinks carlisle is perfect because he thinks of himself as a monster. carlisle thinks edward is the best of all of them, the reason to believe vampires have souls, because it's the only way for him NOT to believe he himself is a monster!!! edward hates and fears carlisle for being a standard he can never measure up to, but he loves him because he is that standard, and he keeps forgiving him...but maybe actually the forgiveness just makes him hate carlisle MORE because edward doesn't WANT to be forgiven!!! carlisle thinks of edward as his own redemption, but that means he'll never actually fully see edward and he can't actually forgive him in a meaningful way!!! they're obsessed with each other, but neither one of them can actually express that to the other!!!!!!! holy FUCK they're a MESS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(sorry this is not even a question, my brain is just scrambled eggs about them now apparently)

THIS IS IT I LOVE YOU THANK YOU FOR GIVING ME THE SPACE TO TALK ABOUT CARLWARD I SWEAR I AM GOING A LITTLE FERAL OVER THIS SHIP? FORGIVE ME THIS ASK SHOULD HAVE BEEN MORE POIGNANT BUT IM JUST GONNA SAY STUFF OK

THE BOND BETWEEN CREATOR AND CREATED!!!! YES!!!!!!!

the creator recognizes themself in the created, the created knows the creator because they were shaped so fundamentally by them. [...] your view of them will ALWAYS be distorted by your view of yourself

and isn't it just so beautiful when we put Carlisle & Edward's canon relationship in this context! i wrote this in another post but:

Carlisle believes Heaven exists because of Edward.

Heaven is not a place for the damned creatures like vampires, but a place for humanity.

which means!!!! Carlisle has chosen to see his own humanity in his son. for all it entails. its light, its shadows, all the shades of gray in between. and, yes!, the scary thing is, this is the only way Carlisle can believe he himself is not a monster - to see his progeny thrive within Carlisle's philosophy.

but the beautiful thing is he accepts Edward. he loves Edward. always. no matter what. & this is what allows him to participate in society, to take the Hippocratic Oath, to live a life of vegetarianism: Carlisle loves humanity in all its forms, BECAUSE OF AND IN SPITE OF EDWARD.

and Edward!!! Edward is the physical manifestation of Carlisle's beliefs. for better or worse. on the surface, Edward is a vegetarian vampire, med school grad, etc., and who wants to believe in the value of human life. (he doesn't always live up to this in day-to-day interactions obvi.)

on a deeper level, he has grappled with questions re: humanity, especially his place within his preconceived idea of Humanity. he considers himself damned, just as Carlisle does. (perhaps, even, the darkest part of Carlisle doubts the existence of his own soul.) he spends the entire series rebelling against the idea of his soul & his worthiness of love while battling his own monstrous nature.

but unlike Carlisle, Edward has actually gone out and tested these ideas. can i still have a soul if i'm a vampire? can i still be human if i kill bad people? can i still be human if i take away life? can i still be human if i do x, think y, say z?

because Carlisle doesn't necessarily have the space to do what Edward did. not just because of his busy schedule as a doctor, but his coping mechanisms, his compartmentalization required to live this vegetarian life, his religion (/religious trauma?), & his position as a coven leader do not afford him the luxury of testing these ideas himself.

at the end of the day, Carlisle can never do what Edward did. if Carlisle is going to 'save' other vampires, he needs to be (at least outwardly) secure in the notion that he has saved himself. even if he isn't.

Edward can go further, dig deeper, and that allows Carlisle to go further, too.

and in that context, god, how beautiful is it that Carlisle just has this unwavering, unconditional acceptance of Edward? that through the darkness and mistakes, there is something worth loving? that through this acceptance, Edward finds his soul in the end?

like, the breakdown of the relationship is:

to Edward, Carlisle is a god.

to Carlisle, Edward is a man, i.e., a disciple of his teachings.

& in that context, how beautiful is it that, baseline, Carlisle & Edward share this deep, spiritual love for each other that will never be broken? FUCK that hits

[guerillas-of-history]

Hi! Love your page and everything I've learned from it. It's really opened up my eyes to alot of things that I've never even imagined! Which is why I have to ask because I can't find a correct answer or logical thought process to it.

Why does the U.S support the appartied Isreal state? I truly can't come up with a logical reason to it and really sorry if you've brought it up before but I'm truly lost on why it's been like that.

Thank you for the work you put in to this page 🌻

Dear anon, thank you so much for your kind words, I am truly glad you think so. I apologize that its been a few weeks since you sent this, I've been trying to articulate a satisfactory and succinct response. With the monumental events currently underway, now is maybe the most appropiate time to try and answer.

U.S. support for israel started in 1948, with president Harry S. Truman being the first world leader to recognize the state of israel. This was because Truman's old buisness partner Edward Jacobson spent years laying the groundwork alongside zionist leader Dr. Chaim Weizmann (who would become israel's first president) this was in the aftermath of World War 2 and European powers were exhausted and former colonies were starting to rise up and throw off the imperial yoke. Simultaneously the Cold War began to take shape, the Middle East with its oil and strategic waterways such as the Suez Canal proved to be one of the sought after areas for American hegemony, concurrent to this the Soviet Union had been supporting secular Arab Nationalism as a counterpoint to the nascent zionist state. Perhaps the two most important events explaining the unequaled support for israel by the U.S. are the Six Day War in 1967 and The October War of 1973. In the 1950s the CIA recognized israel as a "logical corollary" against the radical nationalism growing in the Middle East. In June 1967 israel defeated the combined armies of Egypt, Syria, and Jordan in just six days, israel then proved to be the United State's greatest ally in the region capable of both defending and projecting U.S. interests. In 1973 Egypt and Syria launched a massive suprise attack on Yom Kippur, the war was fought to a relative stalemate with heavy casualties on both sides. Henry Kissenger traveled between the nations and help negotiate a ceasefire utilizing what became known as "Shuttle Diplomacy" the U.S. used the aftermath of the war to subvert Soviet influence, particularly in Egypt. America laid groundwork for normalization of ties between the two foes, with it being finally cemented in 1979, even though israel is almost universally despised by the Egyptian people. Since then U.S. support for israel had only increased exponentially with israel becoming by far the largest recipient of American aid since WWII. In 2016 then president Barack Obama gave 38 billion dollars alone, through a defence agreement. U.S. support over the last half century have enabled israel to grow into the monster it is today, israeli apartheid and systematic oppression of the Palestinian people is one of the greatest crimes of the last one hundred years.

This is an incredibly complicated question, and I'm sure I've missed some key points and its hard to summerize this subject concisely. I haven't even gotten into domestic support for israel as well as other external factors. If there are any specifics you would like to know please feel free to send me an ask or message me directly, and if anyone has other valuable input I highly welcome it.

[tobiasdrake]

This is so surreal. I am having trouble processing emotions right now.

Why would you think that?

How would you think that?

When were you involved enough in the planning of this to think that?

...

Hey, so, how are we going to explain to the people of Mooncradle why we and Garl popped over to the Celestial Willow and dug up Garl's grave?

Do. Share everything. At the very least tell it to Teaks and then she can explain it in a way that makes sense.

And now there's a cosmic wish involved, that is not you coming back to life?

GUYS. START EXPLAINING OR I'M GOING TO START HITTING PEOPLE. Serai, please move about six feet to your right because you have done nothing wrong but you are in the danger zone.

Do you know what it feels like to not have an ever-burning fire of vengeful fury raging inside of your heart every waking moment of your existence? Because I'd honestly forgotten.

I hope you get to experience it too soon.

You and me both, Serai. What kind of person blankets a planet in flesh monsters when you could be playing Wheels or something instead?

These guys are very smart, yet somehow not half as smart as they think they are. Everything has to be schemes and riddles and chess games and 35-step master plans. Just go have a fistfight or make out or something and leave everyone else out of it.

I'll take Garl's emotional intelligence over their extensive practical knowledge and sly trickery any day.

That's also not what happened to you and I'm still very confused by why the metaphysics are acting like it was. The Chrono Trigger homage is interfering with the plot.

It was already fully online and ready to go as soon as I walked up to--

I MEAN YES IT WAS A TON OF WORK AND YOU SHOULD BE VERY GRATEFUL. And awed. Be awed by the extensive effort I put into it for you.

I accept tribute in the form of pancakes shaped like my face. T-T I've missed your vanity pancakes so much.

...you had... the cosmic forces from beyond life and death... make dinner reservations for you.

...

You know what, I can't even be mad. That is such a Garl way to use a reality-warping cosmic wish. There are so many other things I would do with a power like that, but you wouldn't be you if you didn't use it like this.

REVERSE FUNERAL For fuck's sake how are you the best?

OOOOOOOOO I know I know I know!

There's a big empty pond with no fish in it that has its own dedicated island. Pissed me off. Why dedicate a whole island to a pond with no fish in it? I bet we can use the hook there.

Why's it called Hook of Time, though? Are we going to, like... catch the Ghost of Fishing Past or something?

I... I think I caught... the statue sunken into the lake?

Yep, definitely the statue. How this connects to dinner at the Golden Pelican is beyond me. But the important thing for everyone to recognize is that I am now demonstrably the best angler who ever lived.

Okay, but it doesn't want to bite. Like, it aggressively ignores my--

...

Hang on. I might be an idiot.

I'm an idiot. This test is a trap for people who get distracted by fishing opportunities and I goddamn fell for it for five straight minutes.

Well played, mysterious ancient architects. Either Docarri or Ovates, probably.

That is definitely something you have to fish for.

With gusto.

...HI!?

You. Uh. You have a fishhook in your eyebrow. This might sound a little weird given the circumstances of our meeting but do you need help getting that out?

...this is...

This is where the owner of the Golden Pelican lives. That's what's... that's what's been in this lake this whole time.

Does everyone have to jump through these hoops to get a reservation? How swanky is the place? They said no to me twice and I'm... have you met me?

This better be the best dinner I've ever had in my life or I'm burning that place to the ground. And you should be warned: Courtesy of present company, the competition is steep.

[the-heart-of-a-monster]

SHADOW'S LITTLE SMILE OH MY GOSH THAT'S ADORABLE-

Oh and uh yeah, the people of the arctic recognize Sonic, but it's not that big a deal tbh. Why?

...

WELL I'M GLAD THAT NONE OF YOU ASKED BECAUSE I'M DELVING INTO IT ANYWAY SO STRAP UP FOLKS, WE'RE GOING FOR A RIDE.

Okay so start things off with the obvious, every time Sonic's visited someone or crossed paths with someone, they hardly even flinched when interacting with him. The clearest memory/recolection I have of this was an issue waaaaaaay back (Probably like 2 years ago now) when our main trio was finishing a mission and exhausted outta their minds. A kind chinese family let them into their home with no sweat and with as much welcoming energy as anyone would have for a renowned hero. They gave the team food and a nice place to sleep, all while Sonic was in his Werehog form.

There were a few more instances of this same thing, but I can't remember if Sonic and Shadow actually stayed the night or if the people were just really nice or not. Either way, random people on the street showing unfounded kindness and attention to the heroes without breaking a sweat WHILE Sonic was in Werehog form... It's far from uncommon!

In short, seeing the arctic villagers be so kind to Sonic and Shadow is nothing new. At least to us, that is...

Think of this through Sonic's viewpoint. He's a monster, a rage-filled beast, a myth, resembling a mystical bear that this snowy town worships like a god! In no way, shape, or form (Well except for one form lol) does he feel like himself. Every lock of fur, every shimmering marking, every Gaia monster he faces... It just reminds him of the kind of thing he has become. In Sonic's eyes, kindness and forgiveness is now beneath him. To this poor little edgey hedgey, he's finally hit his peak, and if people knew who he truly was, then it would all be over for him. The least Sonic can do now is try to clean up the world-shattering mess he thinks he made.

Sure, he had Shadow and Chip to be by his side, but they were exceptions. Shadow caught him at a bad time and had nothing to share except pity, and Chip left him already. As time went on, Shadow became more reserved, more like the type of guy we know now, and Chip became more cautious. He wasn't as physically affectionate as he used to be, and to Sonic, that was a sign that Chip was beginning to fear Sonic, seeing him for the monster he really is. And Shadow is... Well, Shadow! Who knows what he thinks?

And then, out of nowhere, completely unprompted, the girl in the hoodie walks up to him and says...

"We may not know what happened to you, but we know it's still you." (That's probably not it but I can't look at the page while writing this)

And all of a sudden, like magic, part of the giant hole in Sonic's heart has been filled.

They know who he is. These people, these sad, cold, lonely people who just want the best for each other, know who Sonic is behind all that fuzz and darkness. His appearance, while menacing and intimidating to most, didn't phaze that little girl in the slightest. His eyes, bright and piercing through those who dare to look at him, hardly damaged any of the people within this village. They hugged him, they played with his ears, they accepted him! Nobody here cared what he looked like or how he acted at all! They only cared about who he was deep down, or at least what he aspired to be. Everyone smiling at him wasn't fake or forced, and it was all genuine this entire time!

Even Shadow, who had been so reserved and so distant this whole time, was giving Sonic a small, warm smile, hardly visible yet clearly genuine.

He couldn't ask for anything more.

So yeah I really like the funny anthro hedgehog comic-

theyre not sad cold and lonely though AJKSFBDHKSAFHKAJS theyre happy cozy and... togetherness..? opposite of lonely?

ANYWHO THANKS for the comment im so glad you enjoy the comic and i hope you will enjoy todyas page

[ironychan]

A Little Human (as a Treat)

Part 1/? - Un Voluntario

Part 2/? - Un Escursione

Part 3/? - Una Complicazione

Part 4/? - Una Famiglia

Part 5/? - Una Aiutante

Part 6/? - Una Ricerca

Part 7/? - Un Confronto

Part 8/? - Un'Emergenza

Part 9/? - Una Speranza

Ciccio and Ercole need a place to spend the night. Flavia and Perla just need a grownup. @dysphoria-sweatshirt @writer652

The problem with sulking is that it's boring, and Ciccio hadn't been sitting there at the base of the anchor chain for very long before he started to get tired of it. He was still angry with his father, so he couldn't go back to shore, but Signora Trota wasn't going to want to see him, so he couldn't go to Giordana's house, either. Where did that leave?

Even worse, what was he going to do with Ercole? Ercole wouldn't care about the argument, and it wouldn't have been any of his business if he had. All Ercole would want was to see that stupid magic scroll and change back to human. It wouldn't be fair of Ciccio to leave him stuck down here just because of some family drama – and unlike Ercole, Ciccio actually cared about things like that. He would probably have to make up with his father as soon as the kids got back. He wasn't looking forward to that.

Ciccio was still stewing over this when Ercole himself arrived, looking for him. It was impossible to say whether he'd also gotten the sea monsters' innate sense of direction with his transformation, but he clearly hadn't had a very good trip. He was once again tangled up in seaweed, and his leg was stuck in a scrap of net.

“Here you are!” he said indignantly. “Why are you sitting around?” He shook his foot to try to get the piece of net off it. A small crab, also stuck in the mesh, hung on for dear life. “What happened to the children, huh?”

“They're not back yet,” said Ciccio.

“What? What's keeping them?” Ercole demanded.

“They got lost.”

“Well, what are you going to do about it?”

“Nothing,” said Ciccio. “There's anything anyone can do about it. Signor Marcovaldo and Signor Scorfano went to San Giuseppe to get them, and they'll be back when they're back. Until then, we just have to wait.”

He couldn't help feeling a little smug about it. Ercole enjoyed making other people do things he didn't want to do himself. Now he was in the last place he ever wanted to be and there was nothing to be done about it. It felt well-deserved.

“I don't want to wait! I'm sick of this!” Ercole insisted. “I want to go home!”

“Good for you,” Ciccio told him. He settled further into the mud, as if he never intended to move again.

“You can't do this to me!”

“Can't do anything else.”

Ercole reached to grab him by the gills, then stopped, not wanting to get stabbed on a spine again. Neither of them had any idea what a second such injury might do. He seemed to think for a moment, then sat down on the bottom next to Ciccio. “Then I'm gonna wait with you,” he announced, “just to make sure you're telling the truth.”

“Why would I lie about it?” Ciccio wanted to know.

“How am I supposed to know why you'd do something? You're the one who apparently wanted to be a slimy sea monster,” Ercole replied.

Ciccio was about to say something rude in reply, but he heard the sound of a motor. Looking up, he could see the shape of a small boat against the sunset light, puttering out towards the Island. It looked familiar. Was that the same boat Guido had been in earlier? If so, was it heading to the Island on the assumption that Ciccio would go back there? He wasn't sure about his ability to recognize a boat from the bottom – although he knew Alberto could apparently do it – but if there were some news, did he really want to risk missing it?

“Wait here,” he told Ercole, and swam up to see what was going on. He grabbed the side of the boat to look over the edge, and was relieved to see his friend. If it had been somebody else, there was a chance this situation might have gotten even worse. “Guido?”

“Oh, per fortuna!” Guido exclaimed, turning around. “I had no idea how I was gonna find you! Listen.” He used an oar to turn the boat so he could better face Ciccio. “Signor Scorfano telephoned from San Giuseppe. Flavia wasn't where she promised to wait, so they're going to look for her.”

Ciccio felt that awful crawling fear inside him again. What if they never found her? He wanted to shut his eyes and try to physically shake that horrible thought out of his head.

This must have been plain on his face, because Guido held his hands up and tried to reassure him. “Don't panic! They think she's got somebody with her, but they might be back really late, and your Dad wants me to make sure you're okay. He told me to ask if you have somewhere you can spend the night if you need to.”

This really did nothing for Ciccio's state of mind. If his father was resigned to him spending the night in the water, then this was really serious. “I don't know. We might be able to stay with the Donzellas, I guess? We helped them fix their barn.”

“We?” Guido asked. For a moment he was puzzled, then he remembered Ercole and was even more confused. “Ercole helped?”

“Sort of. Not on purpose,” Ciccio told him. “Anyway, Papá's met Signor Donzella. Silvio's dad, the big guy with the beard.”

The Donzellas were fairly familiar faces around Portorosso. Guido nodded. “I'll probably be back really early to check on you again,” he said. “I don't know if there's any way to let you know if they get back after midnight or something...”

“I'll wait for you at the Island again in the morning,” Ciccio promised.

“Okay. Uh... sleep well,” said Guido uncertainly.

“I'll try,” said Ciccio, who was pretty sure he wouldn't sleep a wink.

Ercole was waiting just below the surface, tail twitching impatiently. “Well?” he asked.

“Flavia's still missing,” said Ciccio.

Ercole scowled. “Doesn't she know we can't change back without her?”

“Yes! She knows that!” Ciccio replied impatiently. “She's probably not doing great, either, you know. She's by herself in a strange place.”

“What if she doesn't come back? I don't want to spend the rest of my life as a nasty, smelly sea monster!”

That hit a little too close to Ciccio's own fears. “Maybe I do!” he snarled, not because it was true but just to make Ercole angrier.

“I don't care what you want,” Ercole informed him.

“I know! You don't care about anybody but yourself!”

“Why should I?”

“Because everybody else does!” Ciccio roared. “Giordana wanted to help the Donzellas because she wants them to have a place to live! I wanted to do this partly to hang out with Giordana but also partly because I felt sorry for Flavia and I wanted her to have a good time! I could have just left you there but I felt like this was my fault and I didn't want you to get hurt! Everybody cares about other people except you!”

For a moment Ercole just stared at him, astonished by this outburst. Then he snorted and said, “it's not my business if your fish girlfriend wants to do extra work. Now, if the children won't be back tonight, what are we going to do?”

“We're going to ask the Donzella family if we can stay with them,” Ciccio replied. “And if Signora Donzella allows it, it's because she cares that we don't get eaten by the giant squid!”

Ercole looked suspicious. “Everybody keeps talkinga bout this giant squid. I think you're making it up.”

“Then you can just sleep on a rock somewhere,” Ciccio said, and turned to head for the Donzellas' house.

“Hey! You just admitted that this is your fault!” Ercole swam after him. “You can't just leave me!”

Ciccio didn't answer. He'd been told that sea monsters could instinctively find their way back to any place they'd been before, but it was still surprising to see first-hand that it was true. He didn't even have to think about it. He knew exactly which way he had to go to find the Donzellas. Ercole didn't question his sense of direction, either. He was too busy continuing to rant.

“Why do you want a sea monster for a girlfriend anyway?” he asked. “I mean, I see why normal girls wouldn't want you, but are you really that desperate?”

“Believe it or not, I like Giordana,” said Ciccio. “She's tough and pretty at the same time, and we both like to bake. And she likes me, too,” he added. “She says I treat her like a lady, while the sea monster boys think she's not girly enough.”

“Oh, so neither of you can find somebody your own kind,” was what Ercole took from that.

Ciccio didn't answer, because something caught his eye... a flicker of blue-green light somewhere off in the darkening water. He turned to look, but didn't see anything.

“What are you...” Ercole began, then fell silent. “Per milli cavoli.”

This was spoken in a hush that was very out of character for Ercole. Ciccio found him looking up – he followed his gaze, and saw that with the sun going down, the water near the surface had lit up with softly glowing blue plankton. This swirled and shifted with the water, looking like pictures Ciccio had seen in a magazine of the aurora polare in Canada, except in constant motion. It was breathtaking.

“Wow,” he said.

“Does that happen every night down here?” Ercole wanted to know.

“I couldn't tell you,” Ciccio said. Neither Giordana nor Arturo had ever mentioned it to him. Maybe it was so ordinary to them that they didn't think it was worth talking about, sort of like the moon.

It must have been the same glow that Ciccio had seen a moment earlier. It had only startled him because he hadn't known to expect it. Yet he couldn't help looking over his shoulder before they continued on their way, just in case. When he did, there it was: a gentle pulse of greenish light among the seaweed. He waited, but it did not appear again.

Ciccio's sense of direction didn't fail him. The Donzella family's house was right where he'd thought it was, with a soft pinkish glow visible through the windows. This, too, was bioluminescence, coming from a cluster of jellyfish the sea monsters kept in their houses. Silvio was helping his mother feed these when Ciccio and Ercole came to the door.

Massimo knew he was supposed to call out. Ciccio did not, and feared that doing so might be rude. Since there was nothing to knock on, he just waited there awkwardly for somebody to notice him.

It took a few moments, but eventually Signora Donzella spotted them, and cried out in surprise. “Mother of pearl! Say something next time!” She gave her bowl of krill to Silvio and came to welcome them in. “What can I do for you boys?”

Ercole looked at Ciccio – talking to sea monsters was his job. Ciccio took a deep breath, or at least its underwater equivalent. How much should he tell her? The truth was complicated and he didn't know how she'd react. Signora Egelfino earlier hadn't exactly been upset, but he couldn't imagine her letting them spend the night, either.

He decided to say as little as possible. “I had a fight with my father, and Ercole's a long way from home. We were wondering if we could stay here tonight.”

Signora Donzella was surprised and a bit puzzled by the request, but she rose to the occasion. “Of course you can. I'm sure everything will seem much better in the morning. I remember having some awful rows with my mother when I was a girl, but a good night's sleep always helped. Let me find you something to eat. Silvio!”

Her son looked up from what he was doing. Half the jellyfish immediately extended their tentacles to try to grab the bowl of krill from him, and he had to quickly move it out of their reach. “Yes, Mom?”

“Find those extra sponge mats, will you? I know we brought them with us. I'm afraid there's not room for you in the house,” she told her guests, “but thanks to all your good help today there's plenty of space in the barn, and we haven't moved our livestock in yet so you won't even have to share.”

Ercole was appalled. “You want us to...” he began, but Ciccio grabbed him by a whisker and pinched it. “Ow!”

“Grazie mille, Signora Donzella,” said Ciccio. “That's perfect. We can finish feeding your jellyfish for you.”

“Would you? That woudl be lovely,” said Signora Donzella with a smile.

Silvio grinned and gave the bowl to Ciccio before swimming off to find the bedding. His mother vanished into another room, and with them both gone, Ciccio took Ercole's arm and leaned in close to talk to him.

“We are gonna be good guests,” he said threateningly, “and if you aren't, I'm gonna tell her husband who you really are.”

Ciccio did not know if Ercole realized that Signor Donzella was the same person as the large bearded man who'd helped scare the American carnival owner away back at Christmas time, but he had the events of earlier in the day to tell him that this wasn't somebody he wanted angry with them. He nodded.

“Good.” Ciccio let go of him. “Keep your mouth shut, and let's get to work.”

-

Flavia and Perla were afraid Felicia would try to drag them back to the French bakery, but she seemed just as determined to reach the police station as the girls were. All three came puffing up to the Piazza Centrale together. Flavia had not noticed the police station when she had been in the piazza earlier, but it was not a conspicuous building, wedged as it was between a dressmaker's and a shop that had once been a greengrocer's but was now empty. Even now that she was looking for it, Flavia would have needed Perla to point it out if it hadn't been for the crowd gathered around it.

“I need everybody to stay back, please!” a young policeman was saying, standing on a chair to address everybody. “This is not a circus show! We're trying to contain a threat to the community.”

“You girls hear that?” Felicia asked, worried. “You two shouldn't be here.”

“What about you?” Perla asked.

“I'm looking for my husband,” the woman reminded them.

It wasn't impossible that he was here somewhere, Flavia thought. There were at least a couple of dozen people gathered and he could easily have been one of them. Rather than go look for him, however, Felicia remained lurking with the two girls in the side street.

“What do we do now?” Flavia asked.

“I dunno,” said Perla, with a nervous look at Felicia.

There was a fuss somewhere up the street, with the ringing of a bicycle bell and several startled shouts. The girls and Felicia turned to look, and then froze as they heard a familiar voice.

“Heaven's sake, watch where you're going!” exclaimed Signora Pepitone.

“Sorry, Ma'am!” replied the boy on the bicycle who'd nearly run into her.

Perla grabbed Flavia and the two darted into the space between two buildings, ducking under an old wooden pallet that was leaning against one wall. Felicia, who had turned back to watching the crowd outside the police station once she'd realized nothing important was happening up the street, did not notice them. Moments later, Signora Pepitone and Roberto went hurrying by, in the sort of tired jog that suggested they'd begun their journey running but were now out of breath. Felicia jumped as they startled her on the way by, and only then did she look around and realize the girls were gone.

She did not look for them, though, because as soon as she entered the piazza Signora Pepitone began calling for help. “We need the police!” she called out. “Those sea monsters! They took my granddaughter and her friend!”

“Oh, no,” whispered Flavia. Now Signora Pepitone was even more upset about the sea monsters! If Flavia and Perla came out and said they'd run away on their own, then the others wouldn't have to take the blame... but then Signora Pepitone would drag them back to her flat and there'd be nobody to try to help Alberto and his friends. Flavia wished Papa Leo were here. He would have been able to do something. This was getting worse and worse. “We're gonna be in so much trouble.”

“Then we have to help your friends before she finds us,” Perla decided. She wiggled out from under the pallet and studied the side of the building. “I'm gonna go take a look.”

“She'll see you!” Flavia protested.

“No, she won't,” Perla promised, and began shimmying up the drainpipe. “Wait here, and be very quiet,” she told Flavia.

“Okay,” said Flavia, glad Perla hadn't tried to make her come along. The other girl vanished over the edge of the roof, and Flavia sat down on a wooden block to wait. She hoped Perla wouldn't be too long.

Flavia might have worried less about Perla falling if she'd been able to see her scrambling over the rooftops like a mountain goat. By the time she reached the former grocery shop, Signora Pepitone was already inside the police station shouting at the prisoners. Perla could hear her voice, and so she crouched on the roof and waited for Ippolito to escort her grandmother out. Then she slid down onto a lower part of the roof, and peered in the small window there.

There wasn't much happening inside. Alberto was pacing up and down the room, trying to think of a way to escape. Giulia and Luca were sitting on either side of the thoroughly miserable Antonio Macarello, watching their friend.

“I knew I should have taken Errico up when he offered to teach me to pick locks,” Alberto grumbled. “Massimo said I didn't need to know that.”

“Even if you did, they're still right outside,” said Luca. They could dimly hear Signora Pepitone wailing as she described what had happened to the police. Luca didn't like being stuck in here while Flavia was apparently missing... he hoped she was still with Signora Pepitone's granddaughter, even if only so she wouldn't be all alone. “If the policeman comes back, you should try talking to him again,” he told Antonio.

“Yeah, I think you were getting to him,” Alberto agreed.

But Antonio shook his head. “My parents were right. Land monsters can't be reasoned with.”

“That's not true at all!” Giulia protested.

“Yeah!” Alberto said, and almost made a joke about how Giulia was still totally unreasonable even now she was a sea monster. At the last moment he managed to think better of it.

“Once the people in Portorosso realized we weren't going to hurt them, they stopped wanting to hurt us,” said Luca. “You just have to convince the people in San Giuseppe. You're already friends with some of them, so that's a start.”

“But how?” Antonio asked. “You saw Ippolito. He just... stared at me, then took us all away.”

“But he looked sad when you started talking about how long you guys had been friends for,” Giulia reminded him. “You need to do more of that.”

“He left, though,” sighed Antonio. “He probably never even...” he cut himself off with a yelp. Luca and Giulia jumped to their feet, and Alberto nearly fell over.

“Sorry!” said Antonio. “Something went down the back of my neck. I...” He shook his shirt, and they heard a small object hit the floor. Giulia reached down, and picked up a little pebble.

Everybody looked up, and found a face peering in between the bars of the tiny window high up on the back wall.

“Flavia?” Giulia asked hopefully, but a moment later she realized it couldn't be. Flavia had short hair, while this girl wore hers long in pigtails.

“Don't shout!” said Luca. “The people outside will hear us.” He thought for a moment. “Signor Macarello, could you stand on the bench, please?”

Antonio got to his feet and climbed onto the bench along the back wall, and Luca and Giulia helped Alberto up to sit on his shoulders. While they watched nervously for the return of Officer Ippolito and Signora Pepitone, Alberto grabbed the bars and looked outside. There was indeed a girl of about eleven crouched on the roof outside looking back at him, and she was definitely not Flavia.

“Who are you?” he whispered.

“I'm Perla!” she replied. “Are you Alberto? Flavia told me about you,” she added, without waiting for an answer. “She's scared of climbing so I came. Are you guys the sea monsters?”

There was no point in denying it – and if this were Flavia's new friend, she would hopefully have a different opinion about that than the adults outside. “We sure are,” said Alberto. “You wanna see?” He took a deep breath and transformed.

“Hey!” protested Antonio, as Alberto's tail suddenly smacked him in the face.

“Sorry!” Alberto quickly changed back.

“Wow!” whispered Perla, grinning.

Alberto couldn't help a proud grin, but he quickly got back to the important questions, “is Flavia okay?”

“Yeah, she's fine,” Perla promised. “I know Nonna's looking for us, but we're gonna help you guys first.”

“How?”

“We dunno yet, but we're gonna do it. Just sit tight, okay?”

“Yeah, we can't exactly go anywhere,” Alberto said. “You'll tell Flavia we're all right?”

“Absolutely. See you soon!” Perla stood up to climb onto the roof edge above the window, and vanished from view.

Alberto dropped back to the floor, and Antonio Macarello dejectedly sat down on the bench again. After a few moments Luca and Giulia once again sat on either side of him, doing their best to look like they hadn't moved in case the police came back and got suspicious.

“She's not going to help us,” sighed Antonio. “She's just another land monster.”

“Don't say that,” said Luca. “Humans can be surprising.”

Flavia waited for Perla for what seemed like an awfully long time. She sat on the block of wood in the alley, fiddling the the ribbons on her borrowing blouse or scuffing patterns into the dirt with her shoes. What if Perla got caught? Could Flavia possibly help her friends on her own? Or what if somebody found Flavia waiting, and asked her...

“There you are! What are you doing back there?”

Flavia screeched involuntarily, which in turn frightened the woman who'd just spotted her – Felicia from the Patisserie. Felicia shouted back, and the two of them spent a moment staring at each other in shock and horror.

“Are you okay, Signora?” a boy's voice asked from somewhere out on the street.

Flavia gave Felicia a pleading look and shook her head.

“I'm fine! I saw a... one of those things with the tail,” Felicia said. “Everything's all right!” She squeezed into the space between the buildings with Flavia. “I looked up and you two were gone. Where's your friend?”

“I'm here!” Perla slid down the drainpipe again and landed in a dusty heap between the two. “There's a little window up there that looks down into the cell, and after Nonna left I could see everything.” She glanced up at Felicia and thought for a moment before continuing. “There weren't any sea monsters though, just people.”

Flavia nodded. “Too bad. Seeing sea monsters would be cool.”

“Guess we'll just go to the candy shop and go home!” said Perla. “Come on! It looks like he's still open!”

“Buona Sera, Signora!” Flavia said, waving as the girls climbed over the pallets to return to the street. “I hope you find your husband!”

They took a quick look into the piazza to make sure nobody would see them – nobody did. They were all still gathered around the police station. Keeping close to the wall, the two girls ran down the length of a building and darted into the candy shop. A bell on the door rang as they went inside.

“Good evening!” said Signor Giglioli, removing trays from the display for cleaning. “Oh, hello, Perla!”

“Hello, Signor!” said Perla, and pulled Flavia into a corner so they could talk quietly.

“Did you see them?” Flavia asked.

“Yeah, they're all in there! Alberto even showed me what you really look like!” said Perla with a grin. “I saw him, and there was another boy and girl who must be Giulia and Luca, and a man with a moustache, in a yellow shirt.”

Flavia had nodded eagerly at Perla talking about her friends, but then paused at the mention of a grownup. They hadn't had anyone with them. Were they locked up in there with an actual criminal? Would she and Perla be able to get her friends out without also freeing this other person, and would that be a problem?

Why had Flavia ever wanted to come up on land anyway? She was always hearing about her cousins getting into trouble above the surface. She should have known the same thing would happen to her. Were they going to be mad that she'd gotten them into trouble?

“Don't panic!” Perla whispered. “There's gotta be something we can do.”

“Yeah, but what?” asked Flavia. There'd been so many people, and while she'd never been in one, Flavia had heard enough about police stations to know that they had places to lock people up behind bars.

Perla wasn't sure. “In the movies, you get people out of jail by paying bail money, but I don't have any.”

“Me either,” said Flavia. “Giulia was carrying the money.” And if that had been enough to buy their way out, surely she would have already done it.

“Nonna usually gives me money if I say per favore,” Perla said, “but she always wants to know what it's for.”

“We need more help,” Flavia decided. She looked over her shoulder at Signor Giglioli, who was keeping one eye on the girls as he washed a tray, and remembered something Luca had said earlier. Hoping he'd been right, she approached the counter. “Signor Giglioli?”

The shop owner smiled at them. “Oh, I remember you, you're one of the kids from Portorosso! Do you and Perla know each other?”

“We do now!” said Perla.

“Signor,” Flavia began, but then hesitated, nervous. What if Luca had been wrong? What if Signor Giglioli turned out to be as scared as the other people in this town? For a moment she just stood there, unable to speak, but then he made herself continue. Flavia trusted Luca, and they needed somebody to help. “Remember you gave us candy sea monsters, because people like sea monsters in Portorosso?”

He nodded. “I've run out of them today, I'm afraid, but you're welcome to come back tomorrow.”

“No, no, I don't want any. I mean, they're very tasty, but not right now.” Flavia took a deep breath. “People in Portorosso like sea monsters because we are sea monsters.”

Luca had said Signor Giglioli wouldn't mind but Flavia's heart was still thumping as she waited for his reaction.

It was not what she had expected. “Oh, is that so?” he asked with an indulgent smile.

Flavia didn't know how to reply to that. It was Perla who became indignant. “She means it! Her friends are the sea monsters Nonna saw at the zoo,” Perla said. “Everybody's talking about it.”

Giglioli nodded. “Well, I'll have to change my candies, then. Here I thought sea monsters were scaly things, but it turns out they look just like children.”

Flavia was starting to panic. Of all the reactions she'd imagined, it had never occurred to her that somebody might think it was all a game. “Only when we're out of the water,” she said. “When we get back in, we Change. That's what happened at the zoo, was that the fountain broke and everybody got wet!”

“I see, I see,” he said, still humouring them. “I would like to see that! Do you have to be in the ocean, or will any water do?”

“Any water. But I don't do it,” Flavia said. She could feel tears rising. He wasn't going to believe them.

“It's like how some people are born and their eyes or legs don't work,” Perla added.

“Well, that's a shame,” Signor Giglioli said.

Flavia shut her eyes as the tears spilled over. She hated crying. It was bad enough underwater, where all the salt got crusted at the edges of her eyes, but human crying had turned out to be so much worse. Human tears were hot, salty water that left trails down her face – and that would make things even worse, because Signor Giglioli would see that her cheeks were wet and yet she wasn't Changing.

Signor Giglioli sighed. “Oh, no, don't cry,” he said. “Girls, listen. Sea monsters are a fun story, but it's like the Befana bringing you gifts or jaculi hiding in trees. It's not real. People are panicking now, but they'll feel silly in the morning.”

“But they need help!” Flavia protested, wiping her nose on the back of her hand. Signor Giglioli held out a handkerchief, but she didn't take it because she didn't know what it was for. “They've been locked up for being sea monsters and I know something awful is going to happen to them. Nobody else is going to do anything because they're all scared! Please!”

“Locked them up?” asked Signor Giglioli. “You mean all that fuss that's going on out there... they've got three children in jail?”

“Yes! I saw it,” said Perla. “I saw Alberto turn into a sea monster, too!”

Signor Giglioli took his apron off. “I'm going to go have a word with some people,” he decided. “You girls wait for me.”

Flavia and Perla hovered in the confetteria doorway while he marched past the triton fountain and into the little crowd.

“Now see here!” they heard him say.

[frostedclock]

Strings to Hold You Down

Underfell!Sans x Monster!Reader

(Soulmate Au)

Chapter 1: New Customers

You sat in your small shop, only the of dripping water filled your ears. Its been like this for a while now, and the lack of customers was beginning to drain on your gold. You picked gently at the stitches that were on your wrist, a bad habit you never really thought much of. Even when you would pull and tug till you felt your pitiful HP go down a few points. You drummed your fingers against the work desk. You almost snort.

Work desk huh? When was the last thing you made?

That dress the scary fish woman forced out of you for her friend. At least the lizard girl seemed kind of nice, or nicer compared to the red haired fish monster who made you give them a Royal Guard discount.

You rubbed your eyes and stood up to go lock the front door and just curl up in the room above the shop you called home. But, just as your fingers touched the knob, the door slammed open. Right into your face.

The ringing in your ears almost made it hard to hear the loud yet gravelly voice that followed the prompt door in the face.

"STUPID WOMAN! YOU SHOULDN'T STAND BEHIND DOORS! "

You rubbed your nose, hoping no blood was dripping out of it. "Um yeah sorry... I guess" you muttered as you stepped back from the doorway. Your eyes come back into focus and to a hulking figure in front of you. More tall then large, you were surprised he could fit in the door without bending his head. A tall skeleton clad in black stood in front of you, it made you feel even shorter then you knew you were. He made a grunt in response to the apology, and his eyelights looked around your dusty shop. You were about to ask what he wanted when he slammed some gold onto the neglected work desk.

" I REQUIRE A HOODIE. MY FILTHY BROTHER HAS RUINED THE ONE HE WEARS WITH DISGUSTING HABITS. GREASE AND MUSTARD. I SIMPLY THREW IT OUT AND NOW HE REFUSES TO STAND AT HIS POST WITHOUT IT!"

You hummed gently as he continued speaking about his brother. When he stops, you finally speak up. " Well I can easily do that .. But I dont know his size. Is he shaped like you?"

The tall skeleton scowled, making the scar down his skull seem deeper. " YOU MEAN TO TELL ME I HAVE TO BRING THAT LAZY- " He snarled under his nonexistent breath. "THEN I THE TERRIBLE PAPYRUS WILL RETURN WITH MY BROTHER"

He whirled in his red boots and stormed out of your shop, leaving you a little confused if not excited about finally having something to do. Even if it was just a single hoodie. Papyrus was the tall skeleton's name you assumed, with a slight giggle on your lips. It wasn't long before you could hear voices coming through the echo field outside your shop. One was definitely Papyrus, but one you didn't recognize.

The other voice seemed to rumble in a deep baritone, one that made your SOUL tremble in your body. You couldn't even tell what was being said, and yet your body felt like it was about to be lit on fire. The closer the baritone voice got, the more your body seemed to sake. You had to get ahold of yourself, otherwise these monsters might think your weak.

And in this world you can't afford to show weakness.

Not again.

Pulling and tugging on your stitches, deep shaky breaths. And you were back.

The door opening without a block this time, two skeletons stood in your shop now. If Papyrus was large in height, the other skeleton -his brother you guessed- made up for it in width. You stared for a moment, before Papyrus filled the warm tingly silence that stretched between you and the unnamed skeleton.

"THIS IS MY BROTHER I WAS SPEAKING OFF! NOW SANS GET YOUR HOODIE AND STOP USING IT AS AN EXCUSE NOT TO WORK!"

Sans, you caught the name even more then the rest of what Papyrus was saying. Sans shoved his boney hands into his black shorts and you watched him look away from his brother as Papyrus continued his little rant, small red beads of.. Sweat?... Went down his skull in places.

Then he spoke, and it made your soul clench. "Yea, sorry boss. I just can't stand around in the snow without my jacket. Ya' know?"

"NO I DON'T . YOU HAVE NO SKIN TO GET COLD"

"Well.. Maybe he doesn't want to be chilled to the bone?" You said, a laugh behind your words.

The face Papyrus gave you made you freeze in your mirth and it turned to nervousness. He didn't say anything though, to you at least. His attention was fully on Sans as he spoke. "I NEED TO GO BACK TO MY PATROL. FOR ALL WE KNOW A REAL HUMAN HAS SNUCK BY MY TRAPS ALREADY. "

And with that the tall skeleton left your shop. Sans stood for a moment, you taking notice he had been staring now. It would have normally made you nervous. Most monsters aren't very friendly and most would rather use you to raise their own LV and EXP. Doll monsters were never big fighters, and you were no exception so most saw you as an easy kill. And some stupid monsters mistook you for a human from time to time.

You clear your throat after a moment and produced a bit of magic making a tape measure with it. " Um.. I guess come over here and we can get started."

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

Sans Pov

 

Sans had really liked that hoodie. So what if it was covered in stains? Papyrus had no right to just fucking throw it away! Sans dug through the cabinets as he let his angry thoughts consume him. Those stains were almost like children to him!

"Fuck! Stars be fucking damned! " he slammed the cabinet door shut. The mustard bottle he had stashed was no where to be found. He wanted to drink his anger down with what he had left but Papyrus must have thrown that out too.

Sans drug his slippers across the floor as he headed to his room upstairs. Maybe he could sleep away his irritation. He could almost laugh. Like Papyrus would let him do that. He's lucky to even have the house to himself right now and he had already wasted an hour tearing the kitchen apart .

Papyrus used to not be so bad. He used to hold onto the end of Sans' shorts and cry, and want to be read stories and for Sans to cook for him. Now all Papyrus does is run around doing what Undyne wanted, and yells at Sans at every chance he gets about being lazy and not caring about anything. Sans remembered the week before when Papyrus had gotten angry at him -when wasn't he angry anymore at Sans- and told Sans something that had sent him to Grillby's in the first place.

"KEEP BEING THIS LAZY BROTHER AND NO MONSTER EVEN YOUR SOULMATE WOULDN'T WANT YOU"

Those words stung more then Sans wanted to admit. It wasn't like he thought similar things over the years. If his soulmate was out there she had probably been dusted or worse knew she was his and as avoiding meeting him. It was his luck anyway.

His skull barely touched his unmade bed when he heard his brother come home. He cracked back open his eyesockets, listening to his brother walk up the stairs. He silently wished on the stars he's never seen, that his brother just forgot something and was going to leave without bugging him.

No such luck.

Loud knocking in the door forced Sans to sit up and get back out of bed. "yea yea what's up, boss?" He said trying to keep his tone level. No use in making his brother any more upset.

He just wanted his happy little brother back sometimes.

"YOU ARE COMING WITH ME. NOW."

Sweat beaded on Sans' skull. " now now? "

"YES NOW. YOU WON'T GO BACK TO WORK WITHOUT THAT CRUSTY HOODIE SO I HAVE ARRANGED TO HAVE YOU GET A NEW ONE TO STOP YOUR INSUFFERABLE WHINING"

Papyrus took ahold of Sans by his shoulders, and began to push him out of his messy room. He could have easily shortcuted away to Grillby's where he the the oh so great and terrible Papyrus wouldn't step foot in. But the words registered in his skull. Papyrus was actually getting him a new jacket? Now that was surprising. Sans started walking, grumbling about how he can still walk on his own.

The two walked in what felt like a nice silence for a while. But something was itching at his skull.

"Why ya doin' this boss? Ya havent bought me nothing since you were a baby bones."

Such as his last hoodie. But it seems that didn't matter to Papyrus like it did to Sans. Papyrus scoffed at him as he strode through the marsh of Waterfall. Sans shoved his hands in his pocket and he ground the tip of his gold tooth against his mandible. He should have kept his mouth shut.

"YOU AREN'T DOING YOUR JOB WITHOUT. USELESS. SO WILL BE THE GREAT SKELETON THAT I AM AND FIX IT AND YOU CAN GO BACK TO YOUR POST!"

"right yea.... gottcha' " Sans grumbled. Then he spoke up the last part. " thanks boss."

Papyrus grunted and Sans wanted to believe he saw a flash of the little brother he used to be for just a second but it was gone as soon as Sans thought he saw it. Echo flowers began to pop up one after another and then in thicker patches as they made their way across the thin bridge that lead to a small purple building in the midst of cyan. It had a pair of scissor on the door in yellow and it said in bold enough for Sans to read from this distance. The Stitched Strings? He couldn't help but laugh to himself.

Everyone in the Underground was horrible with names it seemed, not just the human-hunting King.

"WHAT IS SO LAUGHABLE SANS?"

"uh nothing boss " Sans said with a shrug as they approached the little shop. The echo flowers echoing back their words after they pass by them.

Papyrus pushed open the door, and Sans noticed it was like he was expecting something to hit but didn't. He stood behind his brother a bit as they walked in. The smell that filled his nasal cavity and he relaxed the tension he had been holding in his shoulders that he had forgotten he had even been doing. Why was he angry earlier again? The old shop smelled of lavender and some other sweet scent he couldn't place right now. Mocha? Maybe.

Oh shit. His brother was gesturing to him and talking to a little doll monster. She had lovely locks that framed a simple yet pretty face that usually graced her kind of monster. If it wasn't for the stitches that littered her skin he would have first mistaken her for a human maybe.

Stop its prolly' just a nice candle.

Sans shifted and felt sweat running down his skull. Damn his brother was yelling about his coat again, he shoved his hands in his shorts.

" Yea, sorry boss. I just can't stand around in the snow without my jacket. Ya' know?"

"NO I DON'T . YOU HAVE NO SKIN TO GET COLD"

"Well.. Maybe he doesn't want to be chilled to the bone?" It was the first words she spoke aloud and it made his bones nearly rattle at the honey tone of her voice and the fragile laughter that followed. He swore his brother must have heard his SOUL thumping around in his ribcage. He wanted to laugh at the pun, yet the cold gaze from his brother quieted the room more then before.

Sans swore Papyrus used to like skeleton based puns. He used to smile at them at least. He used to smile.

Sans looked away from the harder gaze his brother gave him before he spoke. "I NEED TO GO BACK TO MY PATROL. FOR ALL WE KNOW A REAL HUMAN HAS SNUCK BY MY TRAPS ALREADY. "

The door slammed shut behind Papyrus as he left Sans alone in this little tailor shop? Seamstress? He didn't know and kinda didn't care. What his main focus on was the monster woman in front of him.

He almost didn't hear her speak after she cleared her throat. He watched her magic glitter in the air and a fabric-like measuring tape appeared in glittering yellow.

He watched those lips part and ask in that voice that was driving him insane. Because it shouldn't be possible.

Someone as useless as him getting this Doll as a SOULmate.

"Um.. I guess come over here and we can get started."

[whitelotusherald]

just to tie up my daily rampage here

this day was wild

just a week ago I had my very first panic attack (hopefully the last but with my current luck... well, let's hope for the best) and not recognizing what it was, I really thought I was having a heart attack, and while normal people would probably have normal thoughts, all I could think of was... "Fuck, I've made it this far and yet I may not see the Nimona movie"

back when I discovered She-Ra, I was in awe of ND Stevenson, as the whole series dared to be unabashedly, unapologetically queer - and when you've been closeted for ages, it can really be a game changer (even if you can't really find a character you can identify with lol)

that was when I turned to queer YA literature, but also started following Nate's Twitter and was super grateful when he let us take glimpses into his life with The Fire Never Goes Out but especially with The Weight of Them and his still ongoing comics, I'm Fine I'm Fine Just Understand

despite having very different paths, his comics give me strength and hope

when reading Nimona, I did sense the underlying queer allegories, but the movie made them more blatant, with more gut-wrenching scenes

with lines like

Some of us don't get the happily ever after we're looking for 'cause it ain't that kind of kingdom.

They only see you one way, no matter how hard you try.

Why would I trust you? / If you don't, you'll die in this closet!

Can you please just be normal or a second? / Normal? / I just think it'd be easier if you were a girl. / Easier to be a girl? You're hilarious. / I mean, easier if you look human. / Easier for who? / For you. A lot of people aren't as accepting as me.

What if you held it in? If you didn't shape-shift? / I'd die. (…) I wouldn't die die. I just sure wouldn't be living.

Little kids. They grow up believing that they can be a hero if they drive a sword into the heart of anything different. And I'm the monster? I don't know what's scarier. The fact that everyone in this kingdom wants to run a sword through my heart… or that sometimes I just wanna let 'em.

No matter what we do, we can't change the way people see us. / You changed the way you see me.

I see you, Nimona. And you're not alone.

so this movie really was emotional for me and important, omfg so, so important

I'm not saying that I'm gonna kick out my fucking closet's door tomorrow morning

but it really got me thinking about my messed up trust issues and that maybe I should let my walls down

'cause a lot of people out there are like Ballister - who won't have an easy time wrapping their heads around things they don't understand, but once realizing they don't have to understand just accept stuff, might be the best allies; we just have to give them a chance

[sunny6677]

October

(A Spooky Month AU Series)

PART 16/CHAPTER 16: Eyes.

Summary: A 19-year old Skid ends up moving back to his old town for the sake of nostalgia. But he finds himself surrounded by familiar faces.

TWS: PROFANITY, IMPLICATIONS OF AN EMOTIONAL BREAKDOWN, MENTIONS OF PANIC, GUNS, WEAPONS, BEING TRAPPED, PUMP HAS ISSUES, PUMP IS SLIGHTLY LESS OF AN ASSHOLE IN THIS CHAPTER, PUMP HAS MENTAL HEALTH ISSUES.

————

Skid had assumed that the three behind him were most likely going at a slower pace, since anytime he looked behind him, they seemed farther than he was. He would have stopped so they could catch up with him, but Pump was the main thing on his mind as of right now, so he hadn't exactly been considering or thinking of anything else.

Skid ran and ran, and let out a soft gasp upon seeing Pump in the distance ahead of him. Pump seemed to be slightly scrambling on his feet, nearly tripping ad he chased after the thief. Pump let out a violent shriek of anger, and ran after the thief, who had been going up.. a hill.

It.. this place, Skid could recognize it. It had been the haunted house on the hill that Roy had told them to go to when they were kids.. that became evident when he looked up and saw the looming shape of the house. Skid looked behind him, the three had not been there yet, Skid considered going back to check on them to see if they were okay.. but he couldn't bare the thought of leaving Pump alone with his own anger and the thief. Skid only said to himself gently, "Oh, fuck it.." and proceeded to dart in the direction Pump had gone, who now seemed to be closer to the house on the hill.

He would dart and dart and dart after Pump like there had been no tomorrow, his feet nearly scrambling on the dirt-path as he continued to blindly follow Pump. He had now been basically panting at this point, and Pump was no longer in sight, presumably, he was now inside of the house. Skid remembered that.. monster he and Pump had seen, and his face quickly turned to horror.

The monster had not harmed them in the past, but.. he was still very anxious for Pump right now, and only shook his head, now desperately panting and scrambling into the direction Pump had gone into.

Skid finally saw the house, and his heart had now been beating more than ever, his panting had grown faster in a sort of rapid rate, and his head felt numb. He stopped running for a brief moment, standing there in pure shock as he took in the familiar sight. The house seemed more worn down now, and dirty.

"I.. I never thought I'd see this place again.." Skid softly said to himself with a few panting breaths, taking in the looming sight of the house. With a shaking of his head, he quickly regained his stamina, and rushed to the door of the house. He swiftly threw his arm in the direction of the handle, and threw the door open.

"P—Pump!" Skid called out desperately as he stepped in, but he then noticed the sight before him in the dark shadows of the house, still panting from the sheer chase that had gone on for what felt like so long. He caught sight of Pump who was standing in the middle of the main room, and who seemed to be cornering the thief.

Pump slowly turned to Skid, still holding the chainsaw. "...Skid?" Pump slowly said for a moment, seeming in shock. He then shook his head, and yelled, "Wait, no.. what are you doing here?! Didn't I ask you to leave me alone earlier?! Why can't you just understand that?!" Pump said, slowly turning back to Skid with furious gestures of his hands.

"N—No, I.. I can't just leave you alone, Pump! Do you have any idea what I'd do with myself if you got hurt because of your own anger? Do you have any idea of where your even at right now?!" Skid said, raising his voice out of his own concern, he took a step foward, lightly gesturing with his hand. "Look around you, Pump! Don't you even remember this place?! Don't you even know what's below us right now?!" Skid practically screamed out of desperation, clenching his fists.

Pump only grumbled, and said with a roll of his eyes, "Skid, I'm telling you, that wasn't real! I—It was probably just a dream that we both had when we were kids, or.. something." It was hard to tell if Pump was being genuine or not. He seemed unsure, like he was trying to convince himself that it had been a dream. "Wh—What do you mean it wasn't real?! Don't you remember all of the times we encountered those monsters?! That Demon, that doll, that man who nearly killed us?!" Skid said in disbelief.

"Okay, that last part was real, Skid, but those first few parts weren't real! I'm sure they all had a logical explanation! Don't try and tell me that a bunch of spooky stuff like that was real!" Pump yelled, seeming irritated, but unsure and almost.. afraid.

"P—Pump, I need you to know that they were real! We can't get through this together if you keep denying anything that ever happened to us, we can't get through this together if you don't try to listen to me! I'm sorry for what I did earlier, but you have to let go!" Skid desperately said. Pump snarled, a tear slightly began to slip out of his eye as he began to yell in frustration, "You don't know anything! Don't tell me what to do, I'll be fine by myself! I don't need you, I don't need anyone's help! No one cares about me, so stop trying to act as if you do!"

"P—Pump.." Skid said, a worried glint in his eyes, he slightly lowered his tone, and spoke in a more empathetic tone. "No! Don't even talk to me! All of this time I just wanted my jacket back! I never even asked you to come with me! I bet you don't even want your mug back!" Pump screeched, shaking his fists, "I bet your just trying to make my life worse! It was already bad enough before you got here, damnit, I don't need more shit to happen to me!" Pumps voice was beginning to become slightly emotional, breaking as he shouted in what looked like anger.

"P—Pump.. wait, I.." Skid tried to take a slight step foward, his focus only being on Pump now. He held out his hand at the now heavily breathing Pump, trying to offer him a gesture of comfort. "Pump, I need you to breathe, okay?" Skid tried to say in the most soothing tone he could, taking a few more steps foward. "No, no, don't come any closer, you—" Pump screamed, he didn't seem to be trying to threaten Skid, he seemed to actually be genuinely begging Skid not to get any closer to him. Skid immediately stopped, and tried to continue speaking, "Okay, okay.. I want you to breathe for me, okay? I'm gonna help you through this—"

"No, no! I dont—" Pump slightly backed away, becoming more emotional than angry now, he looked as if he were about to cry, as a matter of fact.. he actually did seem to be crying. "Pump, I'm here, just—" Skid was then interrupted by a sudden trail of footsteps from behind him. He flinched slightly, turning around to see who it was.

"Put your hands in the air—what the—?!" A masculine and gruffy voice said from behind Skid. It seemed to be.. Jack and John. John seemed to slightly lower his gun at the sight of Pump, Pump still seemed to be holding his weapon.. which most likely gave the wrong impression.

"K—Kid, what's going on here?" John tried to ask Skid, placing a hand on his shoulder in an almost protective way. He took a step foward, seeming to be prepared to protect Skid if needed. "Dont move!" Jack said, holding up his gun upon seeing that Pump was holding a weapon. "W—Wait, it's not what it looks like!" Skid tried to say, not wanting his friend to be misunderstood as some kind of maniac criminal. This was exactly why he was trying to tell Pump it wasn't a good idea.

"Kid, put your weapon down!" Jack tried to say, hesitantly glancing at Pump with his gun still raised. John took a step closer to Skid, incase Pump would try to attack either them or Skid.

Pump seemed to be basically shaking now, his grip on his weapon was loosening, he begged quietly, "No, don't call me that, I.." Skid had only noticed now, but the thief seemed to be gone. Shit, he'd have to do something about that later, but Pump was what mattered most right now.. where were Roy, Robert and Ross? Why weren't they here yet?

"O—Officers, wait, I can explain!" Skid tried to say desperately, it put him through emotional pain seeing his former friend in such an emotionally unstable state. "Kid, we'll figure this out, we need you to get somewhere safe.." John tried to say to Skid, slightly turning to him.

"Just put the gun down, sir.." Jack hesitantly said, he seemed to have guessed that Pump was most likely unstable or mentally ill. Jack and John thought Pump was trying to attack Skid, when that hadn't been the case at all.. fuck!

"O—Officers, I.." Pump whimpered, dropping his weapon hesitantly, his hands were beginning to shake. Skid tried to hold out his hand yet again, ready to push through the two officers if he needed to, but.. a crashing, loud, familiar sound suddenly sounded from the floor. It made all of the people in the room jump with unexpected fear, heightened anxiety was now present in everyone inside of the room.

"W—What the?—" John said, looking down at the ground as the house and ground suddenly began to rumble. Skid heard a large crashing sound from behind him, and slowly looked behind him, his eyes widening as he realized what it had been. It had been.. a large tentacle in fact, and from past experiences, he guessed that.. this tentacle belonged to a certain monster.

Skid had no time to react, for the tentacle wrapped around him tightly, and dragged him into the hole it made into the floor. He shrieked, he saw the officers reach for him. John screamed, "Kid!" while Jack tried to reach for Skid, but neither of them managed to reach him. He heard Pump scream his name faintly as he was dragged into a world he had known, into a lair he had recognized from his childhood.

Pump rushed toward the hole in which Skid had been dragged into, but a tentacle suddenly crashed out of the ground from behind him, and wrapped around him too. Pump shrieked, struggling to get away from it. But to no avail, for he too was then dragged into the underworld he never thought he'd see again.

The two cops stood there in shock for a moment, unsure of what to do. John cursed, the words stinging the air with anxiety and fear, "Shit, we need backup! I knew something weird was going on here!"

————

Skid slightly struggled in the grasp of the tentacle, he then stopped for a moment, recognizing the atmosphere. The light cyan blue glowing at him from basically everywhere, multiple tentacles surrounding the area, and.. a pair of multiple eyes staring back at him.

Skid panted slightly out of surprise, anxiety slightly shivering up in his stomach. He had known this monster wouldn't try to harm them, since they did manage to befriend it in the past, but.. would that be the case after so long?

Pump then suddenly appeared from beside Skid, being held next to him. He struggled in the tentacles grasp, "Let go of me, you little shit! Let go of me! Give Skid back goddamnit, where did you put him—" Pump then noticed Skid who had been beside him, and only widened his eyes.

"Skid! Where the hell are w—" Pump slowly turned his head, and saw the multiple pairs of eyes staring back at him. He stopped speaking a word of anything at all, and his pupils were now bathed in a crystal cyan blue.

"Uh.. Pump? Puuummmpp?" Skid tried to say to the now suddenly hypnotized Pump, "Pump? Why arent you answering me?" Skid said again, seeming a little more anxious now. An ominous voice then spoke, coming from the multiple layers of sharp teeth in front of them. It sounded rough and demonic, surrounding and echoing from all around them.

"YOUR BACK, PILES OF FLESH."

It had been Eyes, the monster they had both befriended when they were only just kids.

Skid felt anxiety piling up in his chest, though not from how intimidating Eyes had been, well.. at least not yet. Pump was hypnotized, and neither of them could move. As much as he knew Eyes wouldn't harm either of them, something about this really induced his anxiety..

It felt like his nightmares. His nightmares of being trapped in a grasp he could not escape, and being forced to watch his worst fears.. Pumps anger, his mother dying, the car accident.. and that was what made him slowly begin to panic from the inside. But on the outside, he had kept his cool.

The only thing he could do was keep his calm, and hope that it would get him and Pump out of this mess.

//////////////////////////////

E

[tooearlyforthis]

Help Me Help You

Pairing: Steve Harrington x reader

Synopsis: (12.6k wc) Steve can't always admit when he needs help - which is why Robin is there to tell him. Weeks of therapy and he feels like he's gotten nowhere. So what happens when his therapist recommends a group session? What if he recognizes someone there?

Warnings: fluff, angst, mental health - anxiety, depression, panic attacks, mentions of loss, therapy, mentions of SA

masterlist || steve harrington taglist

This is a little different than what I usually post but I started writing this when I wasn't in the best place and I found it helped a lot. A lot of this stuff I've been through but if there is any feedback you guys have to portray the things discussed better please reach out!

“And how has that shaped you?”

The words echoed in Steve’s ears. He had heard it, comprehended the question; but his mind drifted far away. The grey carpet floor beneath him held no value, but he couldn’t look away. Why did he think therapy was a good idea?

Dr. Ackerman shifted in her seat, her pencil tapping against a notebook in her lap. “Steve,” she said sternly. He only mumbled a response, picking his head up. “How did not getting into college shape you?”

It sounded more like an interview question than anything else. Something a mid-level employee would ask him as he sat in the front of the store, nerves taking over his whole body. 

He propped his foot up on one knee, trying to think of an answer quickly. “Uh more resilience, I guess?”

Nodding, Dr. Ackerman wrote on her notepad. “Care to elaborate?”

“I don’t know, that kind of life wasn’t meant for me. It made me move on to better things.” He tried not to tap his fingers against his thigh - a nervous tick he had developed over the years.

“And why do you think that life, going to college, wasn’t for you?”

He tried to think of a way to justify his answer. Telling the truth wasn’t an option, despite it being the reason he sought out counseling. 

She leaned forward, letting her hands drift over her knees. “This won’t work if you’re not open, Steve.”

Shit how did she know?

Leaning back Dr. Ackerman continued, “I want you to come this weekend to sit in on a group session with my other patients. See how talking about what’s wrong may help you.”

“I don’t know –“ he began, already hesitant on her suggestion.

Putting up a hand, she silenced him. “No fighting. You need to commit, Stephen.”

The mention of his full name stung, a friendly reminder that she was older, wiser – a person who knew what was best for him.

“Trust me. This will help.”

Something smelled good. Way too good. 

It floated through his house, filling every crevice despite the absence of bodies. It made him feel safe, an unfamiliar sensation to him from the last few years. Following the smell, he walked into the kitchen. Robin was standing over the stove, a paper towel gripped over her arm.

“What did you do?” He asked, announcing his presence. 

He wasn’t surprised to see her. More and more the past few weeks she had been spending time at his house, even taking up a semi permanent room upstairs. 

She turned around, her face softening from a scowl. “Just burned my arm with oil. I think I put too much in the pan.” Steve chuckled. “How did it go?”

Shedding his jacket, he sat down at the counter. “It was fine. She wants me to do group therapy this weekend.” 

“Do you think it will help?”

He shrugged, not knowing his true answer. Out of all the people in their little party of monster fighters, Steve experienced some of the worst. From getting beat up more times that he could count, to getting tortured by Russians, he was in desperate need of help. 

But part of him still thought he didn’t when there were always others that would need him. His brain would spiral. To thoughts of the kids, hoping another gate hadn’t opened up; to Joyce and Hopper, wondering if someone would come back looking for them. But as the PTSD of his past caught up to him, it felt like the only viable option.

“What are you cooking?” he asked, diverting the conversation.

“Chicken,” Robin replied. “I mean, it’ll probably taste like shit. But it’s been a while since we had a proper meal, ya know?”

He nodded. “Yeah it has been…don’t worry though it actually smells really good. I think I’m going to take a nap before we eat if that’s okay? Just tired from this –”

“ – you don’t have to explain. I understand.”

He smiled at her – a genuine smile. Nowadays it felt like every emotion he felt was being forced, a sign to tell the others he was okay. But Robin had a way of bringing out his true self. She understood him in ways no one else in his life did. From the moment they went crashing down in that Russian elevator, they were linked at the hip - a single mind working cohesively.

Entering his bedroom, he felt immediate relief. It was a sense of safety, like a big blanket wrapping him in a warm hug. Sinking into the mattress he let sleep take him, hoping to not wake up from the horror of his dreams.

The weekend came sooner than Steve would have liked. He didn’t feel ready to walk into group therapy, no matter how much he tried to prepare himself. The unknown scared him, even when it came to just talking about his feelings. 

Robin offered to drive him. He was reluctant at first since she had only had her license for a year. But the session was a couple of towns over and she knew how his mind would run if he was alone in his car.

Pulling up to the building, she let the car roll to a stop. The engine continued to rumble in Steve’s ears, his heart matching the irregular pattern. It was like he was riding up a roller coaster, the top never coming into sight. He shut his eyes, trying to wish the feeling away.

Robin placed a hand gently on his shoulder, grounding him back to reality. “Hey,” she began. “Everything’s gonna be alright.”

Nodding, he unbuckled his seat belt and grabbed the water bottle he had brought. “Thanks for driving, Rob.”

“Of course. I’ll be here when you get out.”

With one last breath, he said to himself, “All right, let’s do this.”

He opened the car door, letting the cold air hit his face as he climbed out. It felt nice, like a wake-up call he so desperately needed. 

“You got this!” Robin exclaimed from the rolled-down window. 

He smiled, watching as she drove off before turning back to the big brick building in front of him. It was a different place from his usual sessions with Dr. Ackerman. But as he entered the building, he found it felt eerily similar. Was every therapist's office decorated the same? From the off-grey carpet to the leather sofa, it felt like a place he had been before. It helped calm his emotions just a smidge. 

“Can I help you, sweetie?” He turned to the lady behind the front counter.

“Uh, yeah I’m here for Dr. Ackerman’s group session?”

���Follow me,” she said with a warm smile.

The lady moved from her place behind the counter to open the door at the other end of the room. Closely, he followed her down the narrow hallway. His heart began to race, wondering how he could talk about his traumas without revealing the supernatural. It was hard to do with one person but a whole group? He might as well sew his mouth shut. 

“Here you are sweetie,” the lady said, swinging open a door. 

He barely had time to thank her before the door was shut behind him, leaving him alone in a room of strangers. Well, strangers plus one person he never thought he’d see again; Y/N L/N. She was sitting in a chair, arms crossed in an oversized sweatshirt and leggings. It was very different from how he remembered her in high school. 

From the few classes they shared and the occasional hellos in the hallway, he knew she was a pretty friendly, put-together person. She was always kind to people, despite the unfriendly rumors about how many notches were on her bedpost. Last he heard, she was heading off to some Ivy League school after graduation. So what was she doing sitting in on this therapy group?

He wanted to talk to her, to reconnect even though they were never close to begin with. Her eyes were glued to the hem of her sweatshirt, pinching at it in boredom. Then she looked up, scanning the room before her eyes landed on him. Her breath hitched for a moment as Steve saw her realize who he was. 

Wanting to talk to her, he stepped forward. Before he could even make it an inch, Dr. Ackerman’s voice pulled him away. 

“Mr. Harrington,” she greeted him. “Glad to see you could join us. Please, take a seat.”

Giving a polite smile, he stole a glance at Y/N one more time. She was already looking down at the floor, back to pulling on the strings of her pullover. 

As the therapy season began and people began to speak, Steve found himself barely paying attention. He went into this session hoping to get the most out of it, to really take in and listen to what people had to say. But that was before he saw Y/N. Shy and still undeniably cute, Y/N. 

He wanted to hear her story, not the strangers they were surrounded by. He wanted to know why she was here, not in New Jersey, and what could have happened in her life that made her need therapy in the first place. Steve knew his past was fucked up but from an outsider’s perspective, it never seemed like hers was. 

Unlucky for him, she barely spoke the entire session. There was the occasional nod or spoken agreement, but she never elaborated on any subject brought up. The minute Dr. Ackerman announced their time was over, and before he could even talk to her, she was gone. Out the door and out of his life. 

Steve slumped back into his chair, feeling defeated. He didn’t know why he felt so down. She was never a close friend to him, even at the height of them interacting in school. He got up to leave, hoping to catch her outside when he heard Dr. Ackerman called his name. Begrudgingly, he turned around to face her.

“So, what did you think?” she asked.

“I uh, don’t really know,” he responded truthfully.

“Then I want you to come back next weekend. And try to talk more, okay? You get out of it what you put in.”

Nodding, he gave her a goodbye. He rushed out the door, hoping to catch Y/N before she left. But alas, he was too late. Everyone had gone for the day. The only person left was Robin, patiently waiting in the car next to the curb. 

“How’d it go?” She asked, as he stepped into the car. 

“Fine,” he replied, as he played with the hem of his shirt. “I uh… saw Y/N L/N. Remember her?”

“I think so. Pretty sure we had chem together. Wait, wasn’t she some big shot? Going off to Princeton or something?”

Steve shrugged. “I guess not anymore.”

Robin gave an inquisitive hum in lieu of a reply. He stared out the window as she drove, partly thinking of how much Robin’s driving had improved. But mostly, his mind was filled with thoughts of Y/N and how he couldn’t wait to see her again. 

Steve made sure to arrive extra early for the group session the following week. He walked into the office complex, moving his way through the halls to the familiar door with Dr. Ackerman’s plaque across the front. With one last deep breath, he went in. 

The receptionist recognized him, letting him go into the therapy room with no problem. “Dr. Ackerman isn’t here yet but make yourself comfortable,” she told him. 

“Thanks,” he replied softly, watching her close the door behind him. 

When he turned around again, he was greeted with semi-familiar faces staring back at him. He scanned the room; no Y/N in sight. Giving a weak smile, he sat down in the same seat from last week. 

He could tell the others' eyes were on him, trying to get a read on the newbie. There weren’t many people there but it sure felt like a lot. A boy, probably around his age, a slightly older woman dressed very professionally, and an older lady that he had to guess was a few years away from a retirement home. 

“Hey,” the younger boy said, causing Steve to look up. “I’m Matt.” Steve replied with only his name, not knowing what else to say. Matt motioned to the woman in her late 20s wearing almost a business suit. “That’s Sam, and grandma over there is Louise. She could drop dead any minute so be on the lookout.”

“Matt!” Sam exclaimed, hitting his arm. “Don’t say that.”

“It’s alright, sweetie,” Louise calmed her. “He can say anything he wants as long as he remembers that I know where he lives, and I own a gun.”

Steve’s eyes went wide, his shoulders stiffening. Did that old woman just threaten him? Matt bursted out laughing. It was clear the group was comfortable with that sort of joking around. He turned back to a very tense Steve. “What are you here for?”

“You don’t have to answer that.” Sam told him.. 

“It’s complicated,” Steve said honestly. “I-I’m not really sure how I would explain it anyways.”

“Oooh,” Matt cooed. “Are you in a love triangle?”

“No I –”

“Family abandon you?”

“Well –”

“Oh I got it!” He interrupted again, sitting up straighter in his chair. “You got bit by a rabies infected bat and turned into a vampire.”

Steve tensed. How did he– it was obviously a joke. Not anything to take seriously so Steve decided to play along. “Actually, you’re not that far off.”

Matt chuckled, looking over at Sam who let out a small laugh as well. “I like you. You’re gonna fit in just fine.”

“Okay…” Steve said hesitantly, not knowing quite what he meant. 

The door softly clicked open, everyone turning to look who it was. Steve sucked in a breath when he realized it was Y/N. She was wearing something similar to last week, a pair of jeans and a sweater two sizes too big. The room was small enough that as she scanned the environment, her eyes locked with his.

Steve heard the others greeting her as she stepped further into the room, but his gaze was still fixed on her. Quickly, Y/N looked down, her hair falling gently over her face. He couldn’t help but feel a little hurt. Maybe she realized that they would be seeing more of each other; maybe she didn’t want to see him at all. He watched as she walked to an open seat, setting her bag down at her feet.

Steve wanted to speak, to say something to Y/N even though he didn’t know what. Cursed again, Dr. Ackerman bursted into the room. “Sorry I’m late,” she announced. “Let’s get started.”

Even though his mind was filled with thoughts of Y/N, he did manage to listen in more to the problems of his fellow group members. Matt was from a couple towns over attending the state college. His anxiety got the best of him and he had a falling out with his best friend. Sam was an elementary school teacher who suffered from PTSD from her younger years traveling as a military brat. And Louise was grieving the loss of her son - a car accident from a few months prior. He listened in more, taking in the symptoms and coping mechanisms they used. Some of the things they said sounded familiar, things that he could learn from his own terrifying experiences.

Once Louise, recounted her past week, how it felt in the wake of her son’s death, Dr. Ackerman turned to him. 

“Steve,” she said suddenly, taking him off guard from sneaking a look at Y/N. “You've experienced some loss in your life as well?” He nodded, not knowing where this was going. “Would you like to share a recent experience you had? Maybe the group has some coping skills to help you. 

Suddenly all the eyes were on him. He felt violated, talking in front of people he barely knew for two days. But in the words of Dr. Ackerman, it wasn’t going to help if he didn’t contribute. 

He began to speak, choosing his words very carefully. “Um yeah I guess I’ve been surrounded by loss, more so in the past couple of years.”

 He felt Y/N look up at him, sympathy in her stare. It gave him the courage to continue. 

“First it was my ex’s best friend. I didn’t know her well but she was last seen at my house so, I guess I blame myself for that? My friend, his mom’s boyfriend passed away, as well as another friend’s older brother…but more recently, a-a new friend. We had only just met… he uh, played a lot of Dungeons and Dragons.”

He looked over at Y/N again who was still staring at him, her sympathy replaced with something else - something he couldn’t quiet. Fright? No, recognition.

“I think of him sometimes– the new friend,” Steve clarified, glancing down at his fingers tapping against his thigh. “We only knew each other for a short while but he was a good dude…I see stuff around town sometimes that reminds me of him and I feel like I’m back- “ 

In the Upside Down.

“In a dark place,” he opted to say instead. 

When he looked up at the group, he felt relieved. They all looked at him with a sense of understanding, like they knew what he was going through. Hell, after what he heard today they probably were.

“I see,” Dr. Ackerman began. “So group, what can Steve do?”

“Well, I find the 54321 method helpful,” Sam said. 

Matt pointed at her. “I was about to say the same thing.”

“The 54321 method?” Steve asked, hoping they would explain further. 

“Y/N,” Dr. Ackerman said. She looked up at her. “Would you mind explaining to Steve what this coping skill is?”

Steve looked over at her hesitantly. “Uh sure,” she said, sitting up straighter. She was trying to look at him but her eyes fell back to her lap. “You count five things you can see around you, four things you can feel… uh three things you can hear. Two you can smell and one you can taste.”

“Very good Y/N.”

She looked up at him one last time, her gaze holding longer than usual and Steve felt like she could take his breath away. 

“And have you been using those methods yourself?” Dr. Ackerman asked. 

She tore her gaze away from Steve, looking back at their therapist. “I-I’ve been trying.”

“Well that’s a step forward right? Effort is all I can ask for. Now Steve,” she directed her attention back to her. “Those were great examples, but not the one I was looking for.”

“It wasn’t?” 

“What about your parents?”

He shook his head. “My parents aren’t dead.”

“But are they around often?” Steve froze. She knew they weren’t. Where was she going with this? Shaking his head, she continued. “Couldn’t that count as a form of loss? The loss of parental figures?”

He remained silent. Could it?

“Loss is not just death, Steve. It can take on many forms.”

Shit, he hadn’t thought of it that way. How much in his life had he truly lost? His parents, his friends, his reputation… Before he could even begin to process what that meant, Dr. Ackerman moved on to Matt who talked about his recent split from his best friend. But Steve was still in his own mind. His own thoughts drowning out the voices of the people around him. 

Maybe he needed therapy more than he cared to admit.

Before Steve knew it, the session was over and he was making his way out of the room, the thought of loss still very much present in his mind. He didn’t realize how much therapy would actually help him. Though mental health was something more and more people were beginning to talk about, it still had a lot of negative stereotypes. One wrong step and you could end up in a psychiatric ward without really needing it.

Trying to give his brain a break, Steve shifted his focus to Y/N and how he desperately wanted to try and talk to her. But yet again, Dr. Ackerman stopped him. “So, how are you liking the group?”

“A lot better than last week,” he replied, watching a small smile form on her face.

“Good. That’s really good, Steve.”

“Can I…keep coming to this group? On top of our sessions?”

She nodded. “That was the plan all along. See you later this week.”

“See you, Dr. Ackerman.”

Despite the heavy topic of the session, the moment Steve stepped outside, it was like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. The air felt nice, so crisp on his skin it was like a fresh glass of water. He was reluctant to admit that Dr. Ackerman was right, but the lady knew her stuff.

Looking around, he noticed Robin hadn’t arrived yet. Everybody else was gone, or so he thought.

“I didn’t know that about your parents.”

Steve turned around to find Y/N leaning against a wall, a cigarette between her fingers. There was no need for introductions, they both had remembered each other – it was just a matter of who would speak first.

“Uh, yeah,” Steve began to respond, shoving his hands in his pockets. He spent so long building up the moment they would speak again that when the time came, he felt frozen. Like a deep in headlights. Making his way over to her, he continued, “Most people don’t.”

She nodded, taking a puff of the cigarette. As she breathed out, a cloud of smoke followed, slowly floating above them. Steve tried not to wince at the smell. “Want one?” she offered.

“No thanks, I quit last year.”

Her eyebrows raised, surprised. Slowly she shrugged. “That makes one of us.”

Not knowing what to do, Steve looked around, trying his best to find something for them to talk about besides the obvious. Unfortunately, he came up with nothing. “I thought you went off to college.”

“I did,” she said before mumbling, “Until Gary entered the picture.”

“Who’s Gary?”

Not responding, she puffed out more smoke. It was clearly a touchy subject and Steve knew all too well about those. 

“I-I’m happy you’re here though.”

She scoffed. “Really?”

He nodded. “I wished we stayed in touch when school was over.”

“Hate to break it to you, Harrington, but I didn’t consider us friends.”

“I mean, me neither. But I remember you being one of the few people that called me on my bullshit – could see through my lies…I need more people like that in my life.”

She stared at him, her cigarette still loosely hanging between fingers. He didn’t know what she was thinking, what she was searching for in his comment. Maybe the truth? To see if he was lying? Before either of them could say anymore a honk echoed across the parking lot. Steve turned to see Robin pulling up to the curb. She rolled down the window as she parked. 

“That’s my ride,” Steve said, slowly backing away. “You remember Buckley? Another Hawkins High survivor.”

“Yeah, hey,” Y/N said, giving a small wave.

Robin waved back and said, “Oh hey, yeah we had chem together right?” Y/N nodded. 

“I’ll uh, see you next week?” Steve said, turning back to her one more time.

“Uh, yeah. Yes.” She took another puff. “See you next week.”

With one last wave, he climbed into the car, watching Y/N become a speck in the side-view mirror as they drove away.

“So,” Robin began, “You finally talked to her?”

“More like she talked to me but, yeah,” he responded.

“She’s different from what I remember. Tougher, less open to people. I didn’t know you were close.”

“We weren’t.”

Watching as his house turned into view, all he could think about was seeing her the following week.

“Why are we going to the other side of town again? Why can’t we just go to the burger place down the street?” Dustin asked, leaning forward from the backseat of Steve’s car. 

“It’ll be fun!” Robin said, arching her head to look back at him. 

“What’s the place called again?” Lucas asked. 

“Gordy’s,” Mike responded. “Stupid if you ask me.”

Usually in these types of scenarios, Steve would be the one to call them on their bullshit. To be the babysitter that steps up to make things right. However, because of more recent events, instead of stepping up, he was slipping away.

Robin noticed almost instantly, jumping in to control the situation when her friend couldn’t. 

“Hey!” She shouted, cutting off the chatter from the back. “Yes, the diner is called Gordy’s. Yes it’s on the other side of town. And we are going because Max likes it and she used to go with her family. Right Max?”

“Y-yeah,” Max spoke up from the back. “It’s pretty good, I think you guys would like it.”

“I’m excited,” El said, getting an agreement from Will. 

Little chatter soon broke into more chaos, the kids talking over each other without a care in the world. Steve wanted to say something, his grip on the steering wheel tightening in an effort to stop feeling the anxiety running through his chest. But still, it was too much. He needed to focus on the road. 

“See? El’s excited,” Robin chimed in again. “Quit your yapping, we're almost there.”

Almost on cue, they turned into the Gordy's parking lot. Steve took a deep breath as the chatter in the back started to die down. He could almost hear his thoughts again, though he didn’t know if that would be a good thing. 

As the kids began to pile out of the car, he felt Robin’s hand on his shoulder. 

“Hey,” she said. “Deep breaths, remember? If it gets too bad, do that thing you learned okay? The 123 method.”

“54321 method,” he corrected. 

“Yeah, the 54321 method.” She watched as he nodded, taking another deep breath. “Hey,” she willed him to look at her. “You’re doing great. You ready to go in or do you need a minute?”

“No, I’m good…” It wasn’t until they were standing right outside the doors, the kids already packed into a booth that he spoke again. “Sorry about that, I can’t control it sometimes-”

“You never have to explain yourself,” she interrupted him, grabbing one of his hands. “Never.”

Steve felt this warm haze travel through him, his chest expanding with what felt like a clean breath of air. Sometimes hearing that there was someone there for him was enough to keep him going. Squeezing her hand back, he motioned that he was ready.

It was easy to navigate to where the kids had decided to sit – noise only coming from one side of the diner. Of course, they were arguing. It was about some movie that had just come out though both of the older teens couldn’t quite place which one. 

“Zip it!” Steve shouted over them, standing at the edge of the diner booth. They all abruptly stopped to look at him. It was the first real words he had muttered all night. “Pick what you want to eat. We’re not spending an hour deciding like last time.”

Dustin smiled at his words. Sure, they were kinda mean, but when Steve got bitchy that meant he was alert. 

Sliding into the booth across from Robin, Steve picked up a menu. The options were like any other establishment, and the kids were quick to decide what they wanted. When it came down to it, their orders didn’t really change much from diner to diner. It was the talking that made their visits longer. But Steve liked to mix it up from time to time, especially when eating with Robin - they often split meals. 

So when the waiter came over to take their orders, he was happy they didn’t have to send the guy away. With El eager to get her waffles, she went first, Mike going straight after her. Steve guessed that meant he would be last. He took the moment he had to look around the diner Max had selected. 

It was nice, much nicer than the other places they had tried but that wasn’t saying much. Midwest towns with small populations meant slow repairs. The floors looked a little wet but that was probably from the amount of people walking through with the recent storm. The coffee machine was out of order and by the looks of it, it had been that way for at least a month.

Besides that, not much was out of place. There was an elderly couple sitting at the counter top across the place. Slowly they traced their fingers along a spread out newspaper Steve had to guess was an attempt at the crossword puzzle. But his eyes slowly drifted away from the puzzle and onto the waitress putting down their food. 

It was Y/N. Blue apron, hair pulled back to not obscure her face. 

His breath hitched when he saw her. It was so unexpected, seeing her in a place like this. She looked so calm, almost happy. He hadn’t seen her like that since their senior year. It made him wonder what had gone so wrong, what this “Gary” did to make her dropout of college. And even though he wouldn’t find that answer tonight, he couldn’t stop himself from staring at her.

As she smiled at her customers, her eyes scanned the diner.  Looking for more people to help, her eyes landed on him. There was some shock, the unexpectedness of seeing him, but she forced a smile on her face. 

“Steve!” 

He was pulled out of his daze by Robin, motioning to the waiter standing before them.

“W-what would you like to drink?” the waiter asked again, though Steve swore he never heard him the first time.

“Uh, just water, thanks,” he said sheepishly, his cheeks turning red from embarrassment.

The waiter, however, just nodded, walking over to where Y/N stood. Steve let his eyes follow him, watching the coworkers engage in conversation before Robin spoke again.

“That’s her, right?” she whispered, not wanting the kids to hear. He nodded. “You should go talk to her.”

He whipped his head around to look at her. “What? No.”

“Why not?”

Because my anxiety will make me fuck up my sentences.

“Because she’s working,” he said instead. “I don’t wanna interrupt her.”

“Please, it’s so dead in here she would probably thank you.”

“Who are you talking about?” said Dustin, trying to worm his way into the conversation.

“No one,” Steve said quickly. “Do your maze.”

He looked down at the kids menu in front of him. “I’m not a child!” he exclaimed.

“Maybe, but you love those mazes.”

He took one look at Steve before back down at his menu. Sighing in defeat he said, “Okay yeah I do…”

It was a new record. Almost an entire day without a panic attack. The food had arrived, the kids eating like it was their last meal on earth. Meanwhile Robin took the time to neatly split her and Steve’s food in half, handing him one of the plates.

He smiled at her before diving in. Well, more like inching in. He didn’t feel too hungry, despite not eating at all that day. That was the main reason for this little outing - to get him to eat food. But as the night went on and his food was still barely touched, he knew that something deeper was happening. 

Ever since he started therapy, he had been getting better at spotting anxiety and panic attacks, even preventing a few which he was proud of. But some would start for no reason, even if he was feeling better than he had all day. Something began to rise in his chest and he knew one was coming. Apparently, Robin did too.

Over the noise of the kids debating over some new comic book, Robin asked, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Steve dismissed out of instinct. “Just gonna go to the bathroom.”

He quickly stood up, not waiting for a response. The bathroom was unlocked thankfully and looked a little disgusting. Still, he had been in worst places. Staring at the faucet he cupped his hands, splashing water on his face.

Sometimes that helped, giving his body a wake up call it didn’t know it needed. But unfortunately, it wasn't working. He felt his breaths become shorter, more labored. His heart felt like someone was squeezing it in their hands. 

He needed fresh air. Yeah, fresh air would help.

Exiting the bathroom, he was thankful to see there was a back door just a few feet away. Pushing through he was met with the cold crisp air of the back of the diner. There was some air conditioner blowing so loud he could barely hear his own thoughts. 

Picking what looked to be a clean wall, he sat down, trying to take deep breaths. His hands still shook, not slowing down despite his efforts. Nothing was working and he didn’t know why. What had even caused this panic attack? There was nothing he was scared or really anxious about to warrant this level of panic. 

He tried to remember what Dr. Ackerman told him in one of their private sessions. Sometimes panic attacks don’t need a reason for happening. 

“Harrington?”

He willed himself to look up at who was calling his name. It was Y/N, a cigarette in her hand. Perfect, just great. This is exactly how he wanted her to see him.

“Oh, hey,” he tried to say casually, trying to mask his attack. They could both tell it wasn’t working.

“Are you doing okay?”

He could tell it was more of a rhetorical question and he was too tired to lie. “I- not really. I don’t know what happened I just-”

“Hey it’s okay,” she interrupted him, crouching down to be at eye level with him. “We all get them okay?”

He nodded though his heart still felt like it was beating out of his chest. “I-I can’t stop it.”

“Have you done the method yet?” He shook his head. “Okay,” she continued, throwing her cigarette to the side before fully sitting down in front of him cross legged. “Let’s go through it, yeah?”

“Aren’t you working?”

“I’m on my break. Don’t worry about that, let’s help you okay? Name five things you can see.”

“O-okay…” he said, taking a deep breath. “Um, my shoes, those plants ... .uh the-the ground. I can see the wall and- your eyes. Shit- sorry that was weird,” he said, curling back into the wall.

“No, don’t apologize,” she told him, reaching out her hand to cover his. “Describe them to me. What do my eyes look like?”

He looked up at her - there was no hint of mockery in her face. “Well, they're vibrant, they’re a couple of different shades…they're beautiful.”

She smiled at him, not disgusted or annoyed, but genuine happiness. She chuckled, dropping her head for a moment, thanks… Now, let’s continue…”

They listed more things, following the method. With each concentration, the hold on his heart loosened more and more. He couldn’t tell if the method was working or he just liked to be in her company. Whatever it was, it worked. 

As he listed off the taste of his meal, he felt like he could finally breathe. Sighing, he let his back hit the wall. 

“Thanks for that,” he said, closing his eyes. He could still feel the pads of her fingers gently rubbing his hand.

She responded, not letting go. “Of course, we have to look out for each other.” In the distance, someone called her name. “Shit, my break is over. You think you’ll be okay?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

Slowly she stood back up. “I uh, guess I’ll see you this weekend.” She gave a small wave, not waiting for a response as she scurried back inside for the remainder of her shift. 

As he watched her walk away, he felt the urge to call her back. Her presence, the way she calmed him down - it wasn’t something he wanted to let go of. Begrudgingly, he stood up, knowing that his friends would be wondering where he was soon. He walked through the same back door, passing the bathroom before finding his friends still in the diner booth.

Robin spotted him first as he made his way over - it seemed like the others barely even noticed his absence. “Are you okay? You look pale,” she asked. 

Usually he would lie, say he was fine and tough through his emotions. But as Dr. Ackerman and later Robin told him, he needed to be more honest with his well being.

“I don’t think so. Could we skip the ice cream run tonight?”

“Of course, yeah. Let’s get going, I already paid for the food.” She turned to the kids. “Alright, let’s get you guys home.”

“What about ice cream?” Dustin asked, followed by overlapping replies from the rest of the kids.

“Not tonight. Maybe next week.”

With solemn looks on their faces, the kids slowly climbed out of the diner booth, ready to pile back into the car. Steve watched as Robin unlocked the door, letting them all climb in. While doing so, he turned back, hoping to catch Y/N one more time.

She emerged from the back with two plates of food, locking eyes with him. She gave him a smile and he already felt a million times better. Nodding at her with a grin, she knew he meant it as a thank you.

Turning around, he made his way to the car, hoping that another attack wouldn’t happen when she wasn’t there.

For the first time since starting therapy, Steve Harrington could say he was satisfied with his progress. He had another panic attack later that week and was able to not only realize the source of it, but calm himself down in record time. Well, record time for him, at least. 

Leaving Dr. Ackerman’s office, he waved goodbye to the other patients before making a b-line to the bathrooms. His bladder was not happy about the wait.  After relieving himself, he opened the door to leave. 

“Do you usually hang out with that many kids?”

“Gah!” Steve jumped, not knowing that Y/N was standing outside smoking a cigarette like she was usually seen. “Jeez, you scared me.”

He began to walk to the building exit, her joining at his side. “Sorry, but you gotta answer the question, Harrington. It’s been bugging me since I saw you.”

Pushing open the exit doors, he said, “Uh they’re my friends so, yeah I usually hang out with them.” 

“But children?”

“They aren’t random children, okay? But yeah, they're who I’m close with,” he shrugged. “Probably my only friends if I’m being honest.”

“Huh…” Y/N replied, taking a long drag of her cig. “That’s fucking weird, Harrington. Did you and your girlfriend adopt them or something?”

He cocked his head. “Girlfriend?”

“Yeah, Buckley... Sorry, I just assumed-”

“Oh,” he replied with realization. “Buckley, no we’re just friends. She’s practically my sister.” 

“Oh okay, cool.” She took another puff.

“Do you ever think about quitting? It’s a nasty habit.”

“Yeah well, what else do I have to do?”

“Go out with me?” She turned sharply to glare at him, her eyes going wide. “Not like go out with me. Shit, I said that wrong- Hangout. I meant hangout with me. As friends!”

She still looked frozen, giving him a look he couldn’t quite read. Was that happiness? Distast? Maybe she didn’t want to try being friends with him.

“I wanna see you outside of therapy and your work ya know?” he explained, trying not to dig himself into a deeper hole. “To not listen to Matt re-explain every class he has. I mean like, we’re not the ones in school.”

She laughed at that, probably understanding what he meant. Next to them, a car pulled up to the curb. It wasn’t Robin. 

“That’s my dad,” she responded softly, walking over to the car. She turned to open the passenger door but paused and looked back at him. “Meet me at the Hideout at 7? Saturday?”

Steve couldn’t stop himself from smiling. “I’ll be there.”

She gave him one last look before climbing into the car, driving away. The smile was still plastered on Steve’s face and he couldn’t help but think that this friendship was the beginning of his new life. One where the Upside Down didn’t haunt his dreams, or where he didn’t fight any demogorgons. One where he could leave that all behind. 

The Hideout. It sounded familiar but Steve couldn’t place why he knew it. Even as he walked into the place, he knew he had never been there before. 

It was very grungy. The floors looked like they needed a deep cleaning and the walls were covered head to toe in band posters. A bar sat on the left side of the room, perfectly out of the way of the stage on the back wall. 

Walking in, Steve opted to stand next to a high table, no chairs in sight. He figured it was just a place for people to set down their drinks. Alcohol, however, did not feel the right call. He wanted to stay alert for his first hangout with Y/N. 

As his eyes drifted across the stage, he watched a band set up their equipment. There were only four of them. A drummer, bassist, guitarist, and a rhythm guitarist. It was probably some local band he had never heard of - he didn’t really keep up with current music.

But as he looked closer, he realized that they were familiar. The guy on rhythm guitar, he had seen him before. A math class? Was that it? Slowly, it started to come to him.

This was Eddie’s band.

The room felt like it became a million times hotter as Steve began to sweat. His heart thumping faster than normal. He needed to stay calm, he needed to control his panic. 

Since Eddie died, he tried to stay away from all things related to the guy. Instead of sitting in on the last few minutes of Dustin’s dnd games, he’d wait in the car. Instead of surfing any radio channel, he made sure to skip the metal station. But there was no skipping tonight.

He recognized three of the members but there was one that was new. He had shorter hair, a lanky build and a tattoo peeking out from under the arm of his t-shirt. He didn’t look familiar - not someone he went to school with. But then it dawned on him.

He was Eddie’s replacement. Before he even had time to process that information, he felt a small hand on his back, a presence next to him. 

“Hey, you made it,” Y/N said with a smile on her face. He hadn’t seen her smile like that in a long time.

“W-whata- what…” It was like he couldn’t speak, the image of Eddie’s band moving on without him still in his mind. “W-why did you bring me here?” he finally got out.

Y/N furrowed her brows. “To see Corroded Coffin?” she responded, not really understanding what he meant. “I thought it would be fun, my brother said they’re playing a new song tonight.”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “Brother?”

“Yeah… Gareth? On the drums? I thought you remembered.” 

No, he didn’t remember. He turned back to the band setting up. Gareth was putting down the hi-hat to complete his drum set. 

Trying to stay calm, he said, “Oh cool…did uh, did you know Eddie too?”

Her face dropped slightly at the mention of his name. “Yeah, I did. He was a good guy.” All he could do was nod, taking a deep breath in. He felt her arm wrap around his. “Everything’s gonna be fine. I’m sorry I should’ve told you why we were here.”

“No it’s okay. It’s like exposure therapy.”

She chuckled, leaning her head on his shoulder. “Sure.”

It didn’t take long for them to start, the music blaring out of speakers that were too loud for the room they were in. The new guy, in place of Eddie, was singing and Steve had to admit it wasn’t bad. His heart still ached at the thought of the band having to replace their star singer. They all looked like really close friends back in school. 

They played a couple songs, and Y/N pointed out the new one that her brother had mentioned. It was good, or better than he would have thought. Steve didn’t know how much he actually liked metal music but if he had to listen to any it would be this. 

But he wasn’t really focused on the music, more of the person standing next to him. He tried not to stare but she was so memorizing. Singing along to the songs she knew, bobbing her head to the ones she didn’t. It was nice seeing her outside the context of therapy. He also wasn’t complaining that her arm was still wrapped around his for a majority of the night.

As the new lead singer thanked the small crowd, leaving as they cheered, Steve felt Y/N tug his arm.

“Come on, let’s go say hello,” she said, pulling him through the crowd.

“S-say hello?” he asked. “Like to the band?”

“Duh,” she replied, waving at a bouncer guarding the backstage door. “We aren’t gonna see my brother perform and then leave.”

The corridor backstage was busier than he thought it would be. The bar was small but it sure didn’t feel like that. People were walking up and down, some running like it was Madison Square Garden. He couldn’t tell who worked there, performed, or were just groupies stopping by. 

Turning right, they were met face to face with the green room, a written sign saying Corroded Coffin taped to the door. Y/N smiled at him before she reached for the handle, turning it to reveal a very hectic room.

The band members were just chatting but it sounded like shouting. It all halted when they walked in. 

“Y/N!” Garrett exclaimed, running over to hug her.

“You did great tonight, honestly all of you did,” she told him.

“And the new song?”

“Better than I could’ve imagined.”

Garret turned to look at Steve, his expression changing to something of confusion. “What is he doing here?”

“You brought Steve Harrington?” Jeff, the rhythm guitarist, chimed in.

Y/N turned to look at Steve confused. “I thought you said you knew Eddie?” 

“I-I did,” he told her, suddenly aware of how many eyes were staring at him. He looked around the room quickly before back at her. “I- just not with his usual crowd…”

The band continued to give him a blank stare.

“I know Dustin, Lucas, and Mike? I know you used to play dnd together,” he added.

Grant, the bassist, crossed his arms. “You know Henderson?” he asked. 

Steve nodded. “He’s like a little brother to me.”

They stared in silence at him and what was probably five seconds felt like eternity. It wasn’t until Jeff shrugged and spoke up that Steve realized his heart rate was quickening. 

“I guess you're okay then,” Jeff said, “As long as you don’t try to shove us into lockers.”

If Jeff didn’t chuckled he would have if he was serious. His laugh rippled throughout the room, breaking the tension and it was like life started again. Joints were lit, drinks were poured, and Steve’s past was left forgotten.

“Can I ask you something?” Steve asked. He walked next to Y/N in the cold, night air, the only sound audible coming from the shuffling of their shoes. 

“Sure,” she said, reaching into her pocket to grab a cigarette.

“That first time we talked, like at Dr Ackerman’s…you mentioned someone named Gary.” He felt her stiffen next to him, a slight stutter in her step. “Who was he?”

Dropping her head to the unlit cigarette, she decided to shove it back into her pocket. He instantly regretted asking. 

Apologizing, he said, “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have asked.”

“No, it’s okay…” she waved off. “Exposure therapy, right?” she said, repeating his words from earlier in the night, letting him know it was okay. “Gary was my neighbor in my freshman year dorms. We hit it off really quick and started to date.”

She looked at the ground as she talked, hands shoved into her pockets. Steve however, couldn’t take his gaze off her. 

“He was fine, uh, a good boyfriend. Well, at first…” she took a pause, almost long enough that he was thinking he should say something.

Luckily, she continued. “He stumbled into my room really drunk one night…tried to take advantage of me.” She shrugged, actually shrugged, like what she just told him was nothing. “I pushed him off me and he went blabbing to everyone that I was an attention seeking whore. All my friends stopped talking to me, even my roommate…and the administration wouldn’t do anything about it even though he, you know…”

She trailed off as she kicked a rock with her shoe and Steve could feel his heart breaking into a million pieces. How could someone, anyone, do that sort of thing? Not even when he was considered King Steve would he force himself onto a girl. 

Y/N sighed. “It was like high school was repeating itself, you know? I didn’t get to have my fresh start.”

He nodded, trying to understand what she went through. They never ran in the same circles in high school, but it was hard not to hear the rumors going around about who she was sleeping with. He assumed Billy was the one to start them and let it be. Looking back, he wished he had stood up for her. 

“It sucks,” he began warily, not knowing if it was okay to speak. When she looked up at him, it gave him the courage to continue. “When other people decide who they think you are. I-I mean, I didn’t go through that but I do have problems with the way people perceive me, my reputation.”

“I-I mean that’s when all my panic attacks started I just- I couldn’t stay there. It’s so stupid…”

“It’s not!” Steve reassured her. “Not stupid in the slightest. I would have left too if it were me. I mean, I didn’t even get into college. There was nowhere for me to run.” The more he began to speak of his own problems, the more anxious he became. “Not that what I went through was worse than you, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to turn the conversation on to me-”

“-No, Steve, it’s okay. I get it, you’re just trying to relate to me.” He nodded - it was like she took the words right out of his mouth. “Could we go back to yours? If I remember those high school parties correctly, you have a pool.”

“Sure. Y-yeah cool,” he blubbered. He couldn’t remember the last time talking to a girl made him anxious like this. Trying to catch his cool, they headed toward Loch Nora. 

“The back door should be unlocked,” Steve informed Y/N as they approached his house. 

It wasn’t a far walk from the bus stop they got off on and he could still see his car parked in the driveway - but only his car. Robin had told him ahead of time that she was going to sleep at her own home for once that week - her parents wanting to see more of her.

“Wow, it’s exactly how I remembered it,” Y/N commented as he opened the back gate.

He looked back at her. “You remember what my house looks like?”

Shrugging, she said, “Like I said, I went to a couple of your parties.” The pool’s lights illuminated the otherwise dark backyard, steam rising from its surface. “Now this is what I’m talking about.”

Without warning, Y/N pulled her shirt off, moving to pull down her pants. Steve’s eyes went wide, turning around to give her privacy. “What are you doing?”

“Getting in your pool? I don’t know about you, Harrington, but I don’t carry a bathing suit with me.”

“I guess…” Steve said, suddenly unsure of their plan. 

It was just like a bikini right? Only it felt so much more intimate. He heard a splash from behind him, a gasp as she rose to the surface for air. 

“You coming in?”

Slowly he turned around facing her as she grazed her hands over the surface of the water. She looked so majestic with her hair slicked back. He felt like deer in headlights as he looked at her. He could go inside, grab one of the many swimming trunks he had in his closet. But instead, he opted to strip down to his boxers, leveling the playing field. 

He could tell she was surprised, not thinking he would do the same thing as her. But nonetheless he jumped right in. The splash completely covered her but she didn’t seem to mind, already dunking her head moments before. When he rose to the surface, he inhaled deeply. 

“Hey!” She exclaimed, wiping water from her eyes. 

“You were already wet!” He retorted.

Without warning, she lunged herself at him. Steve felt as she collided with his chest, sending him falling back into the water, taking her with him. He barely had enough time to breathe before he felt himself submerged back under the surface. On instinct, an arm wrapped around her midsection, balancing her against him as he used his legs to push them back up for air.

Breaking the surface tension, he felt Y/N cling to him, her arms wrapping around his neck as she tried to balance against his bent knee. They were both gasping for air, taking a moment to recover. But the moment she looked up at him, those beautiful eyes he stared into at the diner, it was like a damn broke. 

She smiled, letting out a giggle and he too couldn’t keep a straight face. As her face buried in his neck he asked, “What was that for?”

“I don’t know, it looked like you needed to have fun,” she responded. 

“So you pushed me.”

Y/N lifted her head from his neck, her hands still around his neck. “You’re a very pushable person.”

“Oh am I?”

“Definitely.” She giggled, her fingers absentmindedly playing with the hair on the nape of his neck. “I could stay like this forever.”

Steve smiled, his cheeks getting warmer. “Me too. It’s like a little pocket out of time. We don’t have to think about the future.”

“Or the past…” She was silent for a second, her fingers still moving and Steve tried his best to stay still. A beautiful girl was practically sitting on his lap and he was trying to hard to not fuck it up. 

“That first session, you talked about all the loss you’ve been around. Is there a reason for that?”

“Interdimensional monsters,” he blurted out. It felt good to say the truth even if it was met with a laugh. Who would believe in another dimension anyway?

“Fine don’t tell me,” she said, letting her hands rest on his shoulders. 

The cool touch of her fingers spread across him, down through his chest. It was hard to stop thinking about how little fabric separated them, especially with the way her fingers grazed his skin.

For a moment he almost swore she looked down at his lips. “I bet…” she began, tilting her head back to show her thinking. “That you have daddy issues.”

“Who doesn’t?”

She giggled, her forehead tipping forward, almost touching his. A piece of hair fell across her face and without thinking he reached up to brush it away. Y/N looked up at him, their eyes meeting as he softly pushed the strand behind her ear. 

This time, he knew for certain, she had looked at his lips, right after he did the same.

The little space left between them closed as Y/N leaned forward, capturing his mouth. It was softer than he would had thought. Her rough exterior not matching her tender touch. He felt her arms wrap back around him, fingers gripping his hair. He let out a moan, tightening the grip he had on her waist.

She pulled back for a moment, only to tilt her head to the other side, her lips crashing back down on his. A small whimper let out from her mouth and Steve felt like he died and went to heaven. He wanted to hear it again, to be the only one that made her sound that way. It was intoxicating, like a vampire thirsting for blood. 

He let his kisses trail down her cheek, reattaching himself to her throat. She moaned even louder and he never wanted to let go. 

“That feels nice,” she said, breathlessly. The grip on his hair grew tighter but he didn’t mind. She could poke, pull, or prod, any part of him and he would let her.

“You feel nice.”

Without meaning too, she pressed down on his lap. And even through their underwear and the water of the pool, Steve felt ecstatic. He detached himself from her neck gasping at the pressure. 

“Jesus Christ,” he murmured to himself but it might have been louder than he expected. 

Y/N looked up at him with a smile. But as her eyes found his, Steve was confused as to why it started to vanish. Detaching herself from him, he watched as she floated away until her back hit the pool wall. 

Something was wrong, he just knew it. Was it something he did or said? Was it the kiss?

“I should probably go,” she told him, pulling herself out of the pool. 

“Oh,” he said in surprise. Why the rush to leave so quickly? “Okay…”

As he joined her by the lounging chairs, he watched as she tried to put a leg through her pants. 

“Wait,” he stopped her, putting a hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him before straightening her back. “Don’t put your clothes over your wet ones.”

“How else would I-“

He interrupted her, knowing if he didn’t say what was in his mind he’d lose the courage to say it. 

“-you can stay. Like, stay over?”

Why was he this nervous? He had plenty of girls over before. But with her, things felt different. Y/N raised her eyebrows at his comment. 

“If you want to,” he rushed out to say. “You could take a shower, I could dry your clothes and-“

“Okay,” she spoke over him. 

It felt like all the air left his body. “Yeah?” He asked again for reassurance. Slowly she nodded, a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “Okay yeah. Cool, um…this way.”

Steve’s hands twitched nervously as he sat on his bed. Y/N was in the shower, due to come out any minute. It wasn’t like he hadn’t had a girl over before. Just that the last person to sleep in his bed broke his heart. They had shared a space, gotten warm together under his blankets, baked in the morning sun. It held more meaning to him than he realized before.

As he clutched his hands, trying to calm himself down, the door creaked open. He looked up, watching as Y/N hesitantly peered in. As soon as he saw her face, it was like there was a calm that washed over him. The idea of having someone sleep in his bed filled him with anxiety, but when he saw Y/N it all faded away. He wanted her next to him, he wanted to share his space with her. 

Closing the door behind her, Y/N stood awkwardly across the room. But Steve couldn’t help but smile. She looked so cute in his clothes, the fabric clinging to her skin in ways that left little to the imagination. 

“I left the towel in the laundry room,” she said. “I hope that was okay.” 

“Yeah,” he said quickly, being pulled from his thoughts. “Yup that’s okay. I already started the load on drying your clothes.” 

“Cool,” she said, intertwining her fingers in front of her. 

Steve motioned to his bed. “Do you prefer a side or-”

She shook her head. “Nope. I-I’m fine with either.”

Steve hummed an agreement, moving to take the ride side of the bed. He watched her join on the other side as he pushed the covers back. They both had romantic experiences; both sleeping with someone else in their bed. But in the moment, it felt like they were little kids again.

Steve carefully covered both of them, sinking back down into his mattress. He tried not to touch her, to give her space after what happened in the pool. And with her past, he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. Starting at the ceiling he heard Y/N sigh. Turning his head he could see her covering her face.

“Are you okay?” He asked, turning to face her. “D-do you want to sleep in my parents room? They’re not home-”

“No, this is perfectly fine just,” she dropped her hands onto her chest as she stared up, not meeting his gaze. He could see her eyes getting watery, a tear on the verge of falling. “I-I don’t wanna do anything with you like- sexually. And I’m sorry if that’s blunt but after everything with Gary-”

“Hey, it’s okay,” he reassured her to try and show her this was a safe space. “I wasn’t expecting to, honestly.”

She turned to look at him with a raised eyebrow. “Really?” she asked, not convinced. 

“Really,” he replied. “I haven’t really been the same since Nance and I broke up and- nevermind it’s not important. I could leave if this is too much.”

“No I want you here I really do I’m just…confused. I don’t know.” 

She buried her head in her hands again, probably to stop him from seeing her start to cry. Steve ached for her. To see her like this, to know that this was the fault of another person. That a person could do that to someone else. 

“I’ll sleep on the floor,” he told her, moving the comforter aside. “That way we won’t be alone but we can have our space.”

She looked back at him, her cheeks wet with tears. “No, I don't wanna make you sleep on the floor in your own room.”

“It’s nothing really,” he dismissed, grabbing his pillow and a spare blanket that was thrown across his desk chair. “Trust me, I’ve slept in worse places than on a rugged floor.”

“If I wasn’t a mess right now I’d ask you to elaborate.”

He fluffed his pillow, pulling the blanket up over his shoulders. Y/N peered over the bed, still unsure of the sleeping arrangement though he could tell it was putting her more at ease. 

“A conversation for another time,” he said and he swore he could see a smile on his face.

“Okay,” she said softly, her head disappearing as she laid back down on the bed. 

There was silence for a moment and Steve thought that she had fallen asleep. But her soft voice glided through the air. 

“Steve?” she asked.

“Yeah?”

There was another beat. Another moment of silence before he heard her whisper, “Thank you.”

Even on the floor of his room, the sun found a way to shine on his face. The warm light slowly woke him up, making him rub his eyes in an attempt to not blind himself. He almost forgot he was on the floor of his room until he rolled over to open his nightside drawer, feeling his hand brush against the floor instead. 

As his eyes came into focus, he willed himself to sit up. Why was he on the floor again? Right, Y/N. Beautiful Y/N who should be asleep on his bed. But as he leaned his head up to see over the edge of the mattress, he was met with an empty bed. The covers were made neatly, all pillows back in place, as if no one had even slept there the night before. 

Steve rubbed his eyes, like if he cleared himself from his sleepy haze she would materialize in his room. But as his eyes began to focus again, he found he was still alone. Grunting, he stood up, pulling the pillow and blanket he had used with him. He looked around the room and it seemed that nothing was out of place.

Did he imagine last night? Did he feel so alone that he willed himself to believe that Y/N actually slept over? His eyes continued to scan for anything out of place, a breath of relief when they landed on his dresser.

The clothes he had lent her were neatly stacked on his desk and if he had to guess, her drying clothes in the laundry room would be gone. So he hadn’t imagined it. What happened? Why was she in such a rush to leave?

Maybe she regretted the night before, thinking he hadn’t changed since his days at King Steve. Perhaps the kiss was too much and she regretted it. Steve’s mind spiraled down a dark hole he knew too well. If he didn’t stop now, he would trigger another panic attack.

Taking a moment before getting ready for the day, he sat down on his bed, closing his eyes. He just needed to breathe. In and out, in and out. Over and over again he focused on his breath, letting all his energy go into calming himself down.

He needed to talk to Y/N. To clarify everything from last night before it ate away at him. 

Steve drove himself to therapy the following week. Partly because Robin was still back at her parents, and partly because he needed more time to think. As the time of the group session approached, he felt his heart rate begin to rise. His thoughts raced faster than they did when he woke up to find her gone.

He just needed to get there. Seeing her would calm him, reassure him that he didn’t fuck up. But as he parked his car and raced inside, he was saddened to find that she wasn’t there. Maybe she was just late. She had been late in the past, it was logical to assume she could be late today. 

Matt and Sam had tried to talk to him but he only politely nodded as they spoke. His tongue felt too heavy in his mouth. Like lifting it to speak would only result in incoherent babbling. Thankfully, Dr. Ackerman’s presence let him stay silent. 

The session began and Steve found himself staring at the door. He nodded, giving short answers when required but his attention was still trained on the closed door. She had to walk through the door. To join their weekly sessions. But as the topic drifted from one person to another, Y/N never arrived. 

Steve was quick to leave, rushing to the parking lot to see if she had missed the session and was just arriving. To his disappointment, she wasn’t there. Not even a lingering smell of cigarettes in the air from her usual smoking spot. 

He arrived early for the next session, and the next, and soon a whole month went by without her attending. Every session his eyes stayed on the door, willing her to walk through. Maybe if he was like Eleven, telepathically gifted, he could find out where she was. No, he thought. Even with those powers, it would be an invasion of privacy. And he didn’t want to be where he wasn’t welcomed. 

Robin had been spending more and more time with her parents to figure out packing for the fall semester so Steve had been driving himself more often in Y/N’s absence.

Another missed therapy session had him driving home in silence, not even the radio playing to fill the void. His fingers tapped against the steering wheel in an irregular pattern as he turned onto his street. Slowly, his house came into view and he could see the vague outline of someone sitting on the front steps. 

That’s weird, he thought to himself. Robin had a key, most people in the party did for emergencies. So why was she waiting outside?

As he pulled closer, almost fully into the driveway, his eyes adjusted. It wasn’t Robin, or anyone he had fought monsters with. It was Y/N. 

Y/N, smoking a cigarette as she patiently waited for him to come home. He felt himself falter, his foot almost slamming on the brakes. She was here, more beautiful than the last time he saw her – though it was pretty hard for her to look anything but perfect. 

The engine revved as he pulled into the driveway, pulling Y/N’s attention to him. Quickly, she stood up, putting her cigarette out with the heel of her shoe. Steve felt glued to the inside of the car. Their eyes had met, not separating as he put in the car in park. All he wanted was to get out and speak to her. But something in his chest tightened. If she had been avoiding him for the past week, she had her reasons. And part of him didn’t want to know for certain he was the problem.

He tried to move, he truly did. But his anxiety was ruling over his brain and he didn’t know how to stop it. Thankfully, Y/N seemed to notice. Moving forward, she opened his passenger door and climbed in. He never took his eyes off her, even when she turned her back to close the door. 

Turning back to him, she weakly said, “Hey.”

“H-hi,” he managed to blurt out. Silence hung in the air, as he figured out what to say. Y/N continued to speak. “Sorry to show up at your house, I didn’t mean to be a bother.”

“You’re not a bother,” he blurted out. “Y-you’re never a bother.”

He was looking directly into her eyes, his gaze never wavering. It didn’t break until Y/N looked down at her lap and he could have sworn he saw a small smile form on her lips. A moment passed, then two, and neither of them talked. 

Despite being uncomfortable with long silences, Steve didn’t seem to mind. He didn’t feel like his social battery drained when he was around her. If anything, she made him feel more alive. She knew what he was going through, one of the best kept secrets in his life and she knew. 

“I missed you,” she said softly, still looking down at her lap.

“I’ve missed you too…Louise keeps talking about her one night stands and I don’t think I can take any more of it,” he said, gaining back some composure from earlier.

Y/N laughed, her shoulders hunching forward. She looked back up at him, her eyes darting back and forth between the two of his. As the smile slowly faded from her face, her eyes remained on his. It was clear she wanted to talk about what happened. Maybe she just needed a push.

“Do you…wanna talk about it?” Steve asked. 

She shook her head slightly. “I don’t know it’s just – when I woke up in your room, my mind immediately went back to Gary.” She paused for a moment and he let her gather her thoughts. “I just went into a spiral like I did with him. Like did I force you to kiss me? Did you really want me sleeping in your bed or did I coerce you to? What would people think if they see the town whore sleeping with the former king of Hawkins High just – it’s stupid, I’m sorry.”

“It’s not stupid,” he said immediately, reaching his hands out on the center console. He didn’t want to touch her without asking, but wanted to let her know he was there if she needed to. He sighed. 

“I didn’t expect to kiss you that night,” he continued. She looked up at him, biting the inside of her cheek. “But that didn’t mean I didn’t want you to. You in no way forced me to kiss you…and I was the one who wanted you to stay. I-I should’ve been more vocal so you didn’t feel forced to.”

Y/N nodded, leaning forward with her hands on the center console, not quite touching his. 

“If you want to keep seeing me, friend or something more, I promise I will walk you through everything thought in my head so we’re on the same page.”

She raised an eyebrow, some color coming back to her face. “Every thought?”

He nodded. “Oh for sure. Like how I’ve been craving a ham and cheese sandwich since I woke up this morning.” She giggled again at his obvious attempt to make her feel better. “And like how I’d really like to hold your hand right now.”

He stared at her in his car, the sun slowly setting outside, and felt the touch of her fingers against his. It felt like an immediate release, a tightness he didn’t know was there unfolding in his chest. 

“I would like to keep seeing you too,” she told him, and it was like his heart was doing a million leaps of joy. “I don’t know if I can handle anything more right now,”

“-and that is completely fine with me,” he reassured her quickly, feeling a tight squeeze of reassurance in his hand.

“Thank you for understanding. In the future, if I’m ready…I’d like to explore that possibility with you.”

Steve gave her a big grin, not trying to hide what he was feeling. “Good, uh, that’s good to know.”

They sat in his car, hands intertwined like the rest of the world didn’t matter. Like their pasts and reputations didn’t haunt them like a shadow. For now, they had each other and that was all they could ask for. 

Steve didn’t need some fancy school or big corporate job. Just someone who understood him, who knew what it was like to feel the things he felt and not be judged. 

He was happy he finally found someone who did just that.

Taglist: @afraidofshrimp @halflifejess @nix-rose @palmtreesx3 @cilliansnostolgia @sweetdazequeen

[greatwyrmgold]

Okay, that's an idiosyncratic assortment of dragons, but I can't say that if I made a list like this it wouldn't be even more idiosyncratic. The one question I have is, why did you leave out half of D&D's true dragons? I get not adding obscure ones from the Draconomicon or other sourcebooks, but what about white dragons, or most of the metallic ones? (You got the most important one, though.)

Limiting this list to dragons which I recognize and know/remember well enough to form a coherent opinion about:

Explanations below the cut.

Gold Dragon: When I, a dragon-obsessed middle schooler, first laid eyes on the gold dragon in the D&D 3.5 Monster Manual, I was entranced.

It blends elements from East Asian and European dragons, plus some unique touches of its own, into something which felt unique yet quintessentially Draconic. It can breathe fire, it can breathe underwater, it has ocean palaces and can assume human form, its toxic breath saps the strength from your limbs, it has borderline divine supernatural abilities, its wings blot out the sun.

I cannot evaluate this objectively, nor do I want to. It's a core memory.

Kaido: A much more recent dragon who I wrote a whole post about. (Which I bumped up the queue specifically for your convenience. Come to think of it, Kaido hits a lot of the same beats as the gold dragon. He's a really well-designed dragon who happens to sorta fit the gold-dragon-shaped hole some semi-anonymous WotC artist carved in my heart. (I assume it was done by one of the 25 artists credited here, but Baator if I know which one.)

Prehistoric Dragon: A sufficiently plausible yet distinct dragon, exactly what the project calls for.

Tohru: She's simultaneously a fun, silly maid and an absurdly powerful engine of destruction. I believe the technical term is "gap moe"? Also, I watched the first season of Dragon Maid in an early phase of anime-fan-ness. It feels weird to call something I watched as an adult "nostalgic," but I've been an adult for a while.

Toothless: I was growing out of the target demographic for this kind of movie when it aired, and I'm really not a cat person, and Toothless is mostly a basic-bitch European dragon with a nicer personality. But I recognize that Toothless is very good at being something I am personally not interested in.

Seath: Cool design, neat story, and ties directly into the lore for Dark Souls dragons.

Dragon Tales dragons: Ranked based on the vibes I get when I try to remember the long-lost years of the early oughts.

Gaping Dragon: It's ranked this high purely for how unique its design is. It's a withered husk of a dragon that knows only hunger, and its entire body was reshaped to feast more efficiently.

Tiamat (D&D): Not even close to a faithful interpretation of her namesake, but cool nonetheless. Her design works a lot better whenever WotC rolls back the sourcebooks that include new types of true dragons, reducing it to the basic ten. I wonder what she'd be like if she had a head for every variety of evil true dragon ever published in an official D&D product...?

Slifer the Executive Producer: Cool design. I watched the Battle City arc before I really got into dragons, so the endless coils were unique. Even now, the double mouths make it stand out among the countless other winged serpents. (The forelimbs don't hurt, either.) More importantly, Slifer's unique card-game gimmick lead to the most memorable Duel Monsters game in the entire anime.

Beowulf's dragon: We've gotta respect the classics. This nameless dragon is probably the most recent common inspiration of all fire-breathing dragons in the world, including my top five dragons Sabertoothwalrus decided to include.

Tiki: East Asia's dragons are more like benevolent gods than the scary animals or demonic beings of Europe's folklore. Tiki fits this role straightforwardly, despite her design evoking European dragons. That's neat! It's also neat that her immortality lets her show up in multiple games set millennia apart. I hope we get one so far in the setting's timeline that she becomes old even by dragon standards, like Bantu or...um...some of the evil dragons from earlier games? Okay, yeah, manakete mostly exist to be immortal magical maidens, but it's still possible that Fire Emblem could include an immortal magical crone.

Shenron: Pure presentation. Shenron is a bog-standard East Asian divine dragon, but he's an impressive divine dragon. To commune with him, you need to gather seven magical orbs scattered across the globe. Summoning him darkens the sky with stormclouds. His body stretches eternally, constantly in motion. His growls are like thunder, his eyes like fire. The Dragon Balls lose their mythic luster over time, but Shenron doesn't (mostly because his appearances for the most mundane wishes are kept brief).

Black dragon: Out of the chromatic dragons, its design is the most iconic. It's a creature of death and decay, living in stinking swamps, and its head looks like a monstrous ox skull.

Red Death: Ecologically, the most interesting dragon on this list. Design-wise, it's trying to be a weird version of a European dragon instead of being something novel.

Zippleback: The two heads that contribute differently to fire-breathing are the most interesting dragon concept in the original HTTYD film, the only one I have clear memories of. If I cared enough to rate the other HTTYD dragons, they'd probably be somewhere in D-tier.

Blue dragon: It's not just a dragon. It has a distinctive horn on its face, and its habitat and habits are just remarkable enough to stick around in my memory. Though I think some brass dragon traits might have slipped in there...?

Devon & Cornwall: As an adult, I recognize that two bickering sibling heads who need to learn to get along are not that original, and that Devon and Cornwall are in fact a pretty bad example of that trope. But I didn't recognize either of those when I saw Quest for Camelot as a kid, and it's one of the DVDs my brother and I played a lot on long car trips. And their song is also bad, but it's catchily bad, at least if you watched it at the right age.

Blue Eyes White Dragon: If Kaiba didn't love his three special pieces of cardboard enough to keep printing Duel Monsters cards that made it better, BEWD would not have made C tier. But there are a lot of cards that do neat stuff with BEWD, so I can overlook how bland it looks and how it has no more depth than an ace of spades.

Dragon (Shrek): The one Shrek movie my family had on DVD was Shrek 2, which barely features Dragon. But I like what I remember about her, and the guardian monster falling in love with the animal sidekick is a good bit.

Nicol Bolas: I never engaged with the narrative-fiction side of Magic: the Gathering enough to get more than a rough sketch of who Nicol Bolas is. There's a lot about him that sounds neat, but a lot of it also sounds like it could get annoying if it was written poorly.

Momonosuke: I'm about a third of the way through the Wano Country arc. At the moment, Momonosuke not only feels like a glorified extra, but he's barely spent any time as a dragon. He's just a kid who's theoretically important to conflicts he has barely played any part in. I'm only rating him this high because I expect both of those things to change in the next hundred chapters. He's got basically the same Devil Fruit as Kaido, after all.

Green dragon: Mid. Its visual design is more or less tied with red dragons for the most generic of D&D's true dragon starter set, and while its habitat has the potential to set it apart, it has a ton of overlap with the black dragon. I'd rate different editions' green dragons differently depending on how well they distinguish themselves from black dragons, and 3.5's are perhaps the worst in that regard.

Porunga: Okay, he's unique. You can see some similarities with Shenron, such that he's clearly the same kind of being. But since he's the dragon of an alien world, he looks alien. Barely like a dragon at all. He's unique. I just...don't...like it. I don't like the design. It's "alien" by way of humanity, and it's kind of ugly.

Red dragon (Dungeon Meshi): It stands out from similar dragons by virtue of not having wings (flight being a rare draconic trait in Dungeon Meshi) and the ways its corpse is used.

Scorchio: It's kinda cute, and I remember liking it as a kid, but I really do not now. But it's not like Neopets was supposed to appeal to thirty-year-olds.

Game of Thrones dragons: Drogon clings to the bottom of C-tier because he does stuff. He has a distinct identity. The others, not so much. At best, they're "the dragon X human character(s) rode".

Saphira: By far the hardest to rate. My first impulse was to put it in F-tier due to association with the first book I was ever embarrassed to have liked when I was younger, but Saphira herself isn't that bad. The psychic-dragon-riders thing is derivative, but it's uncommon, and it was really neat when I read it. Her personality and interactions with Eragon also make her way more interesting than anything below C-tier. I gave Devon and Cornwall a boost for nostalgia, so I guess I should do the same for Saphira. Even if I have to dig through a thicker layer of cringe to find the nostalgia.

Mountain dragon: My least favorite dragon from the documentary. It looks bland, combining a stock European dragon with the blandest characteristics of modern reptiles.

Super Shenron: I had complicated feelings about the Super Dragon Balls, back when Team Four Star was posting enough that I cared about the Dragon Ball franchise. By now, though, they've collapsed into simpler feelings. Super Shenron and the Super Dragon Balls could have been cool, but nearly every time they had to make a decision about them, the most obvious and least interesting option was chosen. It's true for their visual design, for their abilities and story utility, for their goddamn names. On the bright side, the first time it was summoned looked cool.

White dragon (not included): Its head-crest makes it a bit more distinctive than green or red dragons, but not much. And its personality isn't much better; it's closer to a dumb animal than D&D's other true dragons, but that makes it more like generic European dragons.

Winged Dragon of Ra: In terms of visual design, it's a mess. This is appropriate, because its mechanics and plot utility are also messy. It does whatever the plot needs it to to make the Battle City climax work the way it's supposed to.

Red dragon (D&D): The most boilerplate generic true dragon in D&D. I admit that D&D needed a boilerplate generic European dragon in the mix, but that doesn't make the dragon itself any better. It's the template which other dragons distinguish themselves from.

Red-Eyes Black Dragon: I do not remember much about this card.

Harry Potter dragons: Derivative, like most things in Harry Potter. Also tainted by association with JK Rowling. Norbert (or Norwegian ridgebacks in general) might have made low C-tier, though.

Banshee: Tainted by association with a disgustingly mid film. The design was kinda neat, I guess.

13: Tainted by disappointment. I was excited for the Straw Hats to fight dragons, but the first one went down like a chump, and also that's the only dragon on the island if you don't count Momonosuke. Boo!

based on a real conversation I had with my brother just now. which means you can do the dragon tier list

[mediawhorefics]

may i ask for your favourite books this year and a quote from each of them? 💕

hum yes def ?!!!! i have more favs from this year tbh but i went with the highlights.

V for Vendetta (Alan Moore) –> "Because while the truncheon may be used in lieu of conversation, words will always retain their power. Words offer the means to meaning, and for those who will listen, the enunciation of truth. And the truth is, there is something terribly wrong with this country, isn't there? Cruelty and injustice, intolerance and oppression. And where once you had the freedom to object, to think and speak as you saw fit, you now have censors and systems of surveillance coercing your conformity and soliciting your submission. How did this happen? Who's to blame? Well certainly there are those more responsible than others, and they will be held accountable, but again truth be told, if you're looking for the guilty, you need only look into a mirror. I know why you did it. I know you were afraid. Who wouldn't be? War, terror, disease. There were a myriad of problems which conspired to corrupt your reason and rob you of your common sense."

The Kingdoms (Natasha Pulley) -> "You're my family! You were family before any of them. I've missed you even when I didn't remember you. Everything I've done since losing you has been about getting back to you. And I know I've left you behind before for other families, but not this time. I can't do it again."

The Bedlam Stacks (Natasha Pulley) –> "I’d thought perhaps I wasn’t the sort of person who could have lived close to anyone else, but that was wrong, now I was here. It would have been good, always to wake up this way."

The House in the Cerulean Sea (T.J. Klune) -> "Humanity is so weird. If we’re not laughing, we’re crying or running for our lives because monsters are trying to eat us. And they don’t even have to be real monsters. They could be the ones we make up in our heads. Don’t you think that’s weird?"

The Binding (Bridget Collins) -> "Maybe I should have followed him; but somehow it went from too soon to too late, without the right moment in between."

A Marvellous Light (Freya Markse) -> "It didn't take long to become so accustomed to something that you could describe the exact shape of its absence."

On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous (Ocean Vuong) -> "Trevor had passed away the night before. I’m broken in two, the message said. In two, it was the only thought I could keep, sitting in my seat, how losing a person could make more of us, make us two."

Angels in America (Tony Kushner) -> "I've lived through such terrible times and there are people who live through much worse. But you see them living anyway. When they're more spirit than body, more sores than skin, when they're burned and in agony, when flies lay eggs in the corners of the eyes of their children - they live. Death usually has to take life away. I don't know if that's just the animal. I don't know if it's not braver to die, but I recognize the habit; the addiction to being alive. So we live past hope. If I can find hope anywhere, that's it, that's the best I can do. It's so much not enough. It's so inadequate. But still bless me anyway. I want more life."

Brokeback Mountain (Annie Proulx) -> "They seized each other by the shoulders, hugged mightily, squeezing the breath out of each other, saying, son of a bitch, son of a bitch, then, and easily as the right key turns the lock tumblers, their mouths came together, and hard, Jack’s big teeth bringing blood, his hat falling to the floor, stubble rasping, wet saliva welling, and the door opening and Alma looking out for a few seconds at Ennis’s straining shoulders and shutting the door again and still they clinched, pressing chest and groin and thigh and leg together, treading on each other’s toes until they pulled apart to breathe and Ennis, not big on endearments, said what he said to his horses and his daughters, little darlin."