#when am i gonna meet my “vision”?... (probably never)

[this-is-chaos-magick]

I think...the reason Wanda and Vision’s relationship grips me so hard is because it feels so personal. I get what they’re feeling that sense of being lonely, even when you're surrounded by people that knows you. You want to talk, to connect, but it’s like no one really... sees you. They just see the version of you they’ve made up in their heads.

....two outcasts who find each other. Everyone else has all these opinions about them, mostly negative, but none of that matters becuz they have each other. And that kind of connection? It’s powerful

I want that.... I want to find someone who actually understands me, who gets me, and who loves me for everything I am...the good, the bad, all of it. Wanda and Vision found that with each other. Their love isn’t perfect, but it’s real, and that’s what makes it so beautiful.

Their love story reminds me that being truly seen and accepted is rare but worth everything.... And honestly, isn’t that what most of us were hoping to find.....?

"you took everything from" Wanda said this to Thanos because vision is her everything... he's the only man in the world who genuinely cares about her....the only one who truly knows her

Sorry I am rambling again...I am just having a really bad day I freaking miss Wanda and Vizh :( I need them back together

[rosegasly]

Lavender Haze.

⇢ summary: “I like your stupid face. It’s so stupid. It’s so… I like it. Can I touch it?”  ⇢ genre: tipsy & risqué  ⇢ pairing: max verstappen x best friend reader ⇢ a/n: taylor inspires all my titles i'm a basic bitch like that

You should know by now that you are terrible with alcohol after one too many puking sessions and horrible hangovers. Still, when Max—your reigning best friend, now world champion—crossed the checkered flag in Abu Dhabi, there was no other way the night was going to end. 

 Feeling the burn of bile creep up your throat again, you push forward on your knees, clutching the cold porcelain of the toilet bowl with all your might as you throw up what feels like days worth of food. 

 The cool touch of said best friend’s hand rubbing soothing circles across your back is as much a relief against your scorching hot skin as a knife moulded with thick, unadulterated guilt that is digging into the gaps of your rib the longer you are awake and thinking. His other hand busy holding your hair back over your head. While your thoughts aren’t entirely coherent, the fact that you are ruining what is probably Max’s best night yet isn’t exactly lost on you either. 

Tears sting your eyes as your stomach finally settles, only a hollow sinking feeling where there was once turbulence, and you can’t decipher if it’s the lack of food or the drunk realisation of what a shitty friend you make at the moment. 

 “i am sorry,” the apology comes out meek, liquid pooling into your eyes and blurring your vision. 

 “Schatje,” his voice is every bit the affection, love and exasperation that you don’t deserve and you tuck your face away between the protective curl of your arms over the toilet bowl. If you were a little less drunk, maybe you’d be disgusted, but all you want to do right now is hide away so you can’t see the forgiveness swimming in his gaze. 

 “You trying to hide the running mascara? Come on, you know you can do worse,” Max teases and the sound coming out of you is equal parts sob and snort. 

 Strong arms curl across your chest, resting slightly above your breasts and your heart goes into overdrive as you sit there torn between feeling grounded by his presence and your stupid crush rearing its head again to mess with you. “You gonna come out of the toilet bowl anytime soon?” 

 His breath tickles the shell of your ear as his chin finds home on the curve where your neck meets your shoulder and you can’t hold back the shiver that races through you at the warm sensation. 

 With a firm tug he pulls you back, your head lolling to the side of his chest and burying itself in his warmth and safety. 

 “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” 

 Another steady pull and he has you on your feet, guiding you to the sink nearby. The angle of your neck turns awkward as you wrap your arms around his waist, face still nuzzled against his signature white tee secured tight between the clench of your fingers. 

 Touch as gentle as it can be, he holds your chin, tilting your face towards the basin and you wordlessly turn the tap on. You are half tempted to drink the water but stop yourself from following through on that urge, gargling and washing the acidity from your mouth instead. 

 The angel of a man you blessedly call your best friend drags your ass out, giving you bottled water which you finally gulp down like the parched woman you are. Sated and no longer reeking of bile, you nuzzle back into Max’s chest, half-formed apologies spilling from you in an endless stream. 

 He keeps quiet, allowing you time to let things off your chest. After years of being there through the others most vulnerable, he knows you better than he does himself and as much as the sight of your pink, blotchy cheeks and drunken apologies makes his chest tight, he realises how much you need it. The weight of unsaid words always weighs heavy on your shoulders, and he has never cut you off when you open up. Instead, choosing to console and talk through those thoughts after. 

 What seems like hours, but is probably only minutes later you finally bring yourself to move away from his chest, the death grip you had on his shirt loosening enough to allow you to look up. 

 In the club’s dim lighting, out of focus, eye to eye, crystal blue spilling into the dark of your eyes, your grip on reality slips a little more. 

 “I like your stupid face. It’s so stupid. It’s so… I like it. Can I touch it?”

 Dark lashes shutter your view of the endless blue as Max blinks, a little taken aback before a smile breaks out. Rosey lips and pinker cheeks and the faint dusting of freckles over the bridge of his nose and high of his cheeks. It’s him. With every breath, you breathe him. Amidst all the cigarette smoke and stale of old carpet under your foot and the sweat in the air; all you register now is him. Max. Your best friend. The one person you would give up everything for, knowing he would do the same. 

 “Go ahead. Touch me.” You can’t tell if his voice has gone lower, deeper, or if you have just pressed yourself too close to him. The vibrations from his chest travelling to you through yours from where they are against each other, not a hair’s breadth of space in between as you near. The lines between close and too close blurring in your inebriated state of mind. 

 The last thing you see before your eyes fall shut is the blue of his. Cerulean and crystal, the faintest blue in the light, edges coloured a dark green in the shadows and its endless. Their depth, his gaze, the twin pounding of both your hearts, the heavy breaths and the sweat from the humid club over your skins. 

 His lips are every bit as soft as you had imagined them to be. Sweet like your most beloved candy, light as a feather as they brush against you. Hesitant, then sure. Worried for what could be lost but realising what could be gained. Gentle, then a little more forceful as your back slams against the wall and you groan. 

 It’s relief. It’s desperation. The way you have starved to touch him, have him feel you. Breathe in his exhales; let them become one in you to make them yours. Kissing him to mark him yours, having him in your arms and knowing you could never let go. 

 He grinds into you and it’s dirty and messy, more the high of your hip bones and the thick of his jeans than anything else, but his fingers still dig into the curve of your waist almost painfully. His ragged breath making you shiver when his nose grazes your skin and you hear more so than feel him inhale your scent. 

 He bites your lip and licks it better. You tug his hair, then caress his face. 

 It’s sexual and innocent and when its finally too much and you can no longer hold your collective breaths, you smile instead. Your lips curled into a smile over his grin and it’s suddenly okay. Everything the night has been and every sleepless night that you two have spent tormented over unreciprocated feelings leading up to it. 

[3mcwriting]

Secret Arrangement

(f/s) = favorite show

Warnings: slight violence, language, lil bit of kissing

Natasha clutched her side, glaring at the (now unconscious) Hydra agent who had shot her.

"You ass."

 "He can't hear you, you know." Clint said, appearing beside her.

 "Yeah, but he's still an ass." She looked down at her side, seeing the hole from the bullet going straight through. Thunder booming in the background because of Thor's earlier lightning theatrics.

 "We should get back so you can have Banner check that out." 

 "Yeah, I guess." Natasha winced slightly, the pain from the bullet wound spiking whenever she moved. They walked back to the quinjet, Bruce immediately getting up to check her wound once they were in. "What time is it?" she asked, hoping she wasn't late. 

 "It's 8," Bruce responded, patching up her side. "You have to go back to the compound, I don't have all the stuff to treat you."

 "No. What time are we going to get back, Tony?"

 "Probably around 10, why? Hot date?"

Yes, actually.

"I have plans at 9, is there anyway we can go faster?"

Tony turned around in the pilot seat, grinning at me. "Hell yeah, we can go faster."

 "Language!"

 •••••

Natasha looked at her watch, wincing when she saw that it was already 10 past 9. "So, are you still continuing your plans with (y/n)? Y'know since you're injured and all that." Clint asked.

 Her jaw dropped. "How do you know about, (y/n)?"

They had been careful to keep their relationship a secret so that (y/n) would never get targeted by someone who wanted to hurt Natasha or get revenge on her.

He snorted. "Please, you've been my friend for years. You think I wouldn't find out about you being in a serious relationship with someone? But back to my question, are you canceling your plans with her or not?"

She looked around, making sure no one had heard him, only to meet eyes with Wanda who was sitting a couple meters away. She looked surprised, turning to Vision who was sitting on one side with Pietro on the other.

Nat sighed. "Yeah, I think so. I'm injured and I don't want to worry her so I'll wait til I'm all healed up then head home."

She was disappointed, she had planned a whole surprise for her and now (y/n) wouldn't get to see it.

 "Well...that's stupid."

 "What?"

 "She's gonna worry more if you spend the night in the infirmary than if you go home late to your plans." Clint said, twirling an arrow in his hands.

 "I have a gunshot wound," she said, emphasizing the words. "You don't think she's gonna worry if I go home right now?"

He shook his head, exasperated. "She's an Emergency Room doctor. She's used to that stuff and she'll know that your side will be fine. So yeah, she'll worry, but not as much as if you spend the night in the med wing. Let her treat your wound. "

 "Hmm," she thought about it. The thought of seeing you even sooner was appealing. "For once you're right, Clint," she raised her voice, "Hey, Tony! Drop me off at my apartment complex!"

 •••••

 "So, how exactly are you getting down?" Tony called out, keeping us hovering over my building.

 "Just lower the rope ladder." Natasha responded, ready to get home.

 "I'll do you one better," he said, then proceeded to land in the empty parking lot.

 "Thanks, I guess, though seriously I could've just used the ladder," she told him, standing up from my seat.

 "Yeah, but I wasn't gonna go down the rope ladder sooo," he said, also standing up from his chair.

 "You're not coming with me," she stated firmly.

"Sure I am," Tony said with a smirk, "anyone else wanna come with me to see why Romanoff has been skipping out on us?"

"I already know why," Wanda said, sending me a knowing look. "But yes I'd like to come too."

Natasha sighed, mind readers are annoying.

"If Wanda is going I believe I should go too, " Vision said.

"Me too," Pietro chimed in, the rest of them quickly agreeing.

Natasha walked out of the quinjet, turning around and glaring at all her teammates. Steve, Tony, Thor, Wanda, Pietro, Vision, Bruce, and Clint all following her off of the aircraft. Natasha walked quickly, arriving at the apartment door quickly. They must've looked strange, the Avengers standing in the dark corridor outside of an upscale apartment, all of them still in their gear.

Natasha unlocked the door, opening it quietly. The hallway was dimly light, the scarce light shining from the living room. She could hear the sound of the TV, she smiled, (y/n) must be back to binging her (f/s). Nat turned around, shutting the door on her teammates, enjoying the shock written across their faces but wincing slightly from a pain that came from her side.

She heard the TV pause, "Tash?" Light footsteps came toward her, Nat moving to meet them.

 "Hey, babe," she saw her, those lovely (e/c) eyes meeting hers as a delighted smile flitted across her face.

You moved to give her a hug only for her to stop you. You looked at her, confused.

At least, until she smashed her lips onto yours. You responded quickly, your lips moving together perfectly as she backed you up against the wall. Winding one arm around your waist while one held your face. You gasped into the kiss, bringing one hand to the name of her neck while the other settled on her hip.

Nat winced, stopping the kiss before continuing.

But you noticed the small flinch.

"Wait, wait," your mouth murmured against hers as you pulled away. Grabbing her hand and leading her to the couch, you lifted up her shirt. "Tash you should've told me," you sighed, looking at the stitches that Bruce had put there to close the wound.

 "Didn't seem to matter-" there was a loud knock at the door, "I'll get it."

 "No, you will not." You stood up, "I'll get the door and you relax."

You turned and walked down the hall, Nat heard her open the door and talk to someone. She stood up when she heard the many footsteps coming down the hall. You entered the room, the Avengers coming in after her.

She scowled, "I told you to relax, sit down."

"Lady Widow, who is this beautiful woman?" Thor asked.

Natasha held up her left hand, showing the simple gold and silver band circling her finger. "She's my wife."

"You're married?!"

 "The fuck?"

 "Since when?"

The Natasha Romanoff brainrot has set in, if you couldn't tell.

[k-zuzulibrary]

민기 s.mg

song mingi 𖹭 reader

who are you?

synopsis: after more banter with mingi, you reflect on your meeting with seonghwa, the president of the programming club, and the excitement of being accepted into a club that could help you achieve your dream of creating your video game. however, your enthusiasm is quickly tempered by your frustration when you are paired with mingi to work on some designs for an event.

content: typical college romance, significant hate to significant others, robotic!reader, lighthearted fluff, probably an inaccurate depiction of art majors (even as an art major myself), not proofread, lowercase intended.

zuzu's note: i decided to write this back-to-back with the first chapter so don't expect any updates so soon lol ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ inspired by the kbl semantic error.

chap1 | chap2 | chap3 | chap4 | chap5 | chap6 | chap7 | chap8 | chap9 | chap10

main masterlist.

4:30 AM. you breezed past the half-conscious zombies (aka college students) in the hallway, either trudging toward class or escaping one. you, on the other hand, cheerfully stepped into your classroom, taking in the dim space with a dreamy sigh. before you could fully settle in, a body bumped into you. you looked up to see a figure in a vibrant orange tracksuit, stepping back and turning to face you. your eyes traveled from his outfit to his face. song mingi.

you sighed, rolling your eyes. you were already contemplating dropping the class right then and there. sadly, art history was a required subject. "are you gonna take a seat, love?" he tilts his head toward the classroom, hand holding onto the strap of his bag. the nickname he settled for after failing to find your true name was the bane of your existence. love. you scoffed to yourself.

"why..." you grumbled.

"well—"

"why, God, why?" you interrupted him and stared at the ceiling, eyes closed and brows furrowed. you took your seat before he could beat you to it — too bad, you could still see his stupid outfit in your peripheral vision as he took the seat next to you, scootching it closer, once again invading your personal space.

you took out one of your extra notebooks and set it upright on your desk between you and mingi's side of the table, as though it would set some sort of boundary between you but he probably has already long broken that boundary.

complete silence.

well, almost. the faint ticking of the clock filled the room, accompanied by footsteps echoing in the hallway and the soft sound of mingi's breath near your ear. his finger tapped rhythmically against the desk, the sound just enough to get under your skin.

then, with a single deliberate poke, your notebook tipped over, sliding onto your side of the desk.

your gaze flicked down to the notebook, then up to mingi, meeting his sweet, unapologetic smile.

"so," he began, tone light but voice deep, "what’s your favorite beverage?" you sighed, already suspecting it was another one of his orange antics. you opted to keep your mouth zipped and you focused on your activities. mingi, suspecting your hesitance, rested his cheek on his fist and leaned against the table. he smiled. "let me guess — kq energy?"

you stiffened.

he giggled. "really? you like that sewage crap? i never would've known you had such garbage taste in beverages after hearing you admire my artwork, i'm embarrassed for you, really—"

"it's an acquired taste." you defend yourself. "it's bitter at first, but once i realized that nobody else buys it from the vending machines, it'll never sell out—" within an a flash, mingi scurries out of the table and runs to the exit.

you didn't want to know what he was up to now. only glad he was out of your space, you moved his bag a chair farther away, and placed your bag on the chair next to you.

soon, mingi walked back into the classroom carrying an obnoxiously large number of kq energy cans, stuffing some into his bright orange jacket pockets while balancing the rest. he nonchalantly sat back down beside you.

you raised an eyebrow. "are you… okay?" you asked, giving him a once over. "did you just raid the vending machine?"

mingi shrugged. "can’t have you hogging all the good stuff, can i?"

you narrowed your eyes. "you bought all the kq energy so i wouldn’t?"

mingi grinned, leaning back in his chair. "exactly. a little self-control might do you good."

you scoffed. "self-control? you’re the one who just spent your weeks budget on caffeine."

mingi smirked. "worth it. at least i’m not the one with a dependency issue."

annoyed, you snatched one of the cans from his desk. "well, guess what? finders keepers."

mingi gasps dramatically, as if you've committed a grave sin — at the same time, surprised by your immaturity. "but that’s stealing! "

"i call it karma," you reply with a smirk, popping open the can.

the banter pauses for a moment as mingi leans in, his expression unusually serious. “careful there, love. trying to match my energy? you might fall for me...”

you froze for half a second, then you rolled your eyes. “unlikely.”

another student walked in, slowly breaking the tension. mingi glanced at her before he leaned back casually into his chair but you can’t shake the thought of the smug grin on his face for the rest of the day.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆.

you adjusted your grip on the sheet of paper in your hands as you walked down the hallway, your footsteps echoing in the quiet. the memory of your meeting with seonghwa weeks ago surfaced unbidden, and you couldn’t help but feel a small flicker of excitement.

the president of the programming club had been everything you'd expected: professional, composed, and just intimidating enough to make somekne nervous. his reputation preceded him — someone who not only excelled in programming but had also led the club to several university-wide recognitions.

“why do you want to join the club?” seonghwa had asked, leaning back in his chair with his fingers steepled. his expression was calm, but his gaze had felt piercing, like he could see through your hesitation.

you had hesitated for only a second before replying. "i want to make a game that feels real. something people connect with. but i need to improve. my programming, my management skills, all of it. i think being part of this club will help me get there."

seonghwa’s lips had curved into the faintest smile. "ambitious. i like that." he had paused, then added, "but the club isn’t easy. we take on big projects, and expectations are high. are you ready for that?"

you had nodded, your resolve firm. "i wouldn’t be here if i wasn’t."

"good answer," seonghwa had said, standing to shake your hand. "welcome aboard."

even now, the memory gave you a thrill of pride. getting into the club felt like a step toward your dream — a dream you had clung on to ever since you first started sketching game concepts in your notebooks as a kid.

but as you approached the bulletin board, reality crept back in. your excitement dimmed as you smoothed out the ad in your hand. of course, in your pursuit of progress, you'd have to deal with people like him. song mingi this, song mingi that, you thought. his name like a sour note in your mind. the ideal designer you'd hoped to work with turned out to be an arrogant, insufferable presence who couldn’t resist making your life harder.

with a sigh, you pinned the ad to the board, pressing the thumbtacks harder than necessary. fine. if the universe thought it was funny to throw mingi in your path, you'd just find someone better.

speak — or rather think of the damn devil, mingi appeared out of nowhere and leaned casually against the wall. giving you a slight deja vu. "looking for talent already?" he teased. "you could’ve just asked me."

you don't even look at him.

"i'm looking for reliable talent."

mingi mock-pouted. "ouch. i thought i was your ideal artist."

"i thought so too," you muttered under your breath, trying to finish your task.

he leaned closer, reading your ad out loud. "creative? efficient? willing to meet impossible standards? sounds a lot like me."

you give him a sharp look. "i doubt you’d survive the interview."

you turned on your heel and left, ignoring his amused laughter as he called after you, "see you around!"

you soon noticed mingi following you and you pick up your pace, determined to lose him. he kept up effortlessly with his long legs, hands in his pockets, humming a tune as if he’s just out for a stroll.

finally, you stopped and turned around. "why are you following me?"

he grins. "coincidence. i’m just heading this way."

when you both reach the clubroom door, you block his path. "i'm serious. go away."

mingi raises an eyebrow. "serious? like barium enema serious? or serious like joining the programming club?"

you blinked, confused, as mingi brushed past you and opened the door, motioning for you to go in first. "after you, love."

inside, the club president, seonghwa, recognized mingi immediately. "ah, our star designer has arrived!" he spotted you behind him. "ah, and you must be y/n — welcome!"

"y/n? " mingi repeated your name under his breath. he was bound to find out one way or another. as you stepped into the room, you see a neat, organized space with several members already chatting. a large bulletin board on one wall displayed future projects, tasks, and members’ names.

seonghwa, cheerful and welcoming, introduced you to the group. "everyone, meet our newest member! y/n has a lot of potential, and we’re excited to have her." a few members inside cheered for you. seonghwa continued. "and it seems like you two are already acquainted, i have a feeling that you’ll get along well with our club secretary, mingi. he’s been with us for two years and is one of our most dedicated officers."

you stared, stunned. "secretary?"

mingi stepped forward and he stretched, clearly enjoying your reaction. "that’s right, baby. which means i’ll be keeping track of your attendance and… performance." he winked.

you seethed internally. of course he’s the secretary. why wouldn’t he be?

you forced a polite smile for show. "great. looking forward to working with you."

"under me." mingi corrected you.

"okay! let's start the meeting!" seonghwa interrupted. "mingi, lead the opening prayer..."

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆.˚

during the meeting, seonghwa announced the annual semester-opening festival and he assigned you and mingi to collaborate on creating designs for it. "mingi, since you’re our most experienced designer, you’ll take the lead on this. y/n, our new member, you’ll be assisting him and handling the programming aspects."

your jaw tightened as you nodded reluctantly. meanwhile, mingi leaned back in his chair, looking far too pleased with himself, amused with the situation.

"don’t worry, y/n." he said. "i’ll take good care of you."

you shot back, "let’s hope i survive."

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆.˚

©️ 2024 k-zuzu All Rights Reserved.

[ashoss]

stephanie & bruce fic recs

for @peachie-wren13 :DD

Permutations & Hinterlands - cabezas_de_vaca

steph & bruce

7.5k words, 1 chapter

summary:

She and Bruce are complicated (not bad complicated, not wrong complicated, just complicated, because he isn’t her father and will never be her father and yet he sort of also is) but he cares. It gets lost sometimes, under the demands of Gotham, but it’s there.

And so, she just asks him. “Do you want to go to Colorado with me?”

Or: Bruce, Steph, and a road trip

* heed the tags !! angsty

dont wanna long post this so more under the cut :)

sweet child o’ mine - Nokomis

steph & bruce, steph & alfred

4,4k words, 1 chapter

Summary:

Steph said cheerfully, “Bruce, from now on, consider yourself in possession of one Steph-mom.”

“Absolutely not,” Bruce said.

Steph took a bite of her cake, undeterred.

A Softer Gotham - Hinn_Raven (series)

steph & bruce, time travel

12.2k words, 3 works

summary: One night makes all the difference. Especially a night when Stephanie Brown, in the wrong dimension, interferes in a mugging.

though your eyes will need some time to adjust - popsunner

steph & bruce

4.4k words, 1 chapter

summary:

“I think…” Stephanie takes a deep breath, “I think I’m bad.”

“I don’t.”

“So what, I’m just supposed to believe you?”

“I am Batman.”

Stephanie snorts, “Yeah, you are… but what if I’m still bad?”

“Then I forgive you.” _______

Or: Stephanie and Bruce, figuring it out

Tuck Me In - OberonBronze

bruce & his kids (big on jason, but it does have cute scene w the other ones esp steph)

14.1k words, 1 chapter

summary:

Bruce Wayne and his long-standing habit of tucking his kids into bed.

Galas Suck - dottie_dc (dottie_wan_kenobi)

steph & bruce

1.9k words, 1 chapter

summary:

When she doesn’t respond, he looks down to her face, finding her staring in the direction of the doors they came in through. “Something on your mind?”

He’s really asking, why did you come and get me? If it’s just nerves, she would’ve been better off with one of the others. No, it must be something else.

Steph blinks, turning her gaze upwards. Never one to back down, she meets his eyes long enough for him to see she’s not in any distress, at least. “Just thinking.”

“About?”

“I don’t know,” she mumbles. “Everything. Nothing.”

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

Written for the Gen Batfam Christmas Stocking 2019, for the prompt "Wayne Gala"

the early robin gets the worm - deargalileo

bruce & his kids

7k words, 1 chapter

summary:

bruce loves all of his children equally. its just when he has to wake them up, that there's an issue.

aka; the five times bruce tries to wake up his kids, and the one time that he doesn't.

DON’T YOU CRY, DRY YOUR EYES. - orpheusaki

steph & bruce

4.8k words, 1 chapter

summary:

After inhaling her food before Bruce's even halfway through his vanilla milkshake, Stephanie seems to have sobered up a little. She's looking less green, and more like she's trying to develop x-ray vision and look into Bruce's soul.

Or maybe she's still drunk, because she very suddenly and very bluntly tells him, "I used to wish you were my dad," drowning her chips into a little pot of ketchup.

Bruce pauses. He slowly drops the chicken nugget he was about to put in his mouth — since now is probably not the time to complain about how the nuggets are a little dry today.

(Bruce Wayne is not Stephanie Brown's father, not at all.)

*tbh anything by orpheusaki is gonna be an amazing read, ive loved all the fics ive read by them <333

Have I Told You About Minnie? - Hinn_Raven

steph & bruce, bruce & his kids

4.6k words, 1 chapter

summary:

After you’ve known Matches Malone long enough, you get used to him telling you about his kids. Not that his kids know about it.

too young to be taken seriously, too old to believe all this hypocrisy - Hinn_Raven

steph & jason & bruce

5.7k words, 1 chapter

summary:

When Crystal Brown goes into rehab, leaving Stephanie in the sole custody of her father, Steph decides to run away from home, and meets Jason Todd, who decides that she is the best little sister ever.

or:

"the dark knight is beaten up by children on the anniversary of his parents death... tragic"

theres not a lot of steph and bruce fics and it makes me sad :((

btw i have a google doc with a shitttttt ton of fics lol. its some recs ive been asked for so hope yall enjoy :)

[wind-it-up-p21]

PSA this is going to be very long and I would post it on my own blog but I am not ready to talk about this without being anonymous yet since a few of you know who I am in “real life.”

As someone who grew up in a sport very similar to dance and had what seems to be a very similar experience to Dyllan here’s what I have to say (disclaimer my experience obviously was not exactly the same but I will explain how they overlap).

I was a part of a team that was and is still known to be one of the top teams in the country. If you wanted to make a name for yourself in this world my team was one of the places you would go to do that. Girls travel from all over the country to compete with them.

On my said team I was one of the “favorites” though I never thought of myself as one until I got older and I realized it again when I walked away and looked back on my experience and it became more obvious to me.

To start, my coach made it very clear to the rest of our team that me and 3 other girls were “the hardest workers” and that we had special relationships with her. Just to name a few things she did to validate this with me: She told me consistently that she loved me and that I was special, I was one of four students invited to her wedding, and she would put me and the other 3 favorites in groupchats or have meetings with us to basically tell us we needed to lead the team to victory and it fell on us to be the examples for the team. I could go on and on but you probably get the point.

I was apart of this team for the same amount of time that Dyllan spent with Molly. My last year on the team I was in high school and wanted to enjoy my social life as well as competition life. I was dedicated to the team, but I also wanted to maybe you know go to a school football game or two. The minute that my team wasn’t tunnel vision in my eyes my coach started to put such intense amounts of pressure on me, take away “privileges” I had, and threatened what I now realize was my status on the team in order to get me to forget my social life and eat/sleep/breathe our sport and team. She had done this before, but it was now on another level. My mental health was at an all time low and nobody but my parents knew. People would say that because I was one of the team stars there was no way I could possibly feel like a victim in this situation. I felt trapped and didn’t know what to do because this team was my everything and everyone knew how big of a role it played in my life, but I needed to get out.

It has now been many, many years since all of this went down. I have taken time to process what I went through and I still am impacted by the trauma of it all. When I finally decided to walk away after that last year, a ton of my teammates ended up following me. It was an exodus like the one p21 had. Meanwhile, one of the other favorites now works for the organization, but clearly suffers from anger issues and anxiety now. At least one of the other favorites has openly regretted not leaving at the right time.

All in all, everyone is gonna have different experiences on a team like mine or project 21s. However, if it’s a toxic environment for so many people it’s toxic for everyone. Some people may just not realize it. They have drank the kool aid and they’re knee deep in it. We can’t control who stays and who goes, so what we can do is support the girls who are there while continuing to validate the emotions of those who left. If Dyllan and so many other girls were so clearly negatively impacted by Molly and P21 there’s obviously some truth to it. With that being said it doesn’t mean we can’t root for the success of girls like Gracyn and Regan. They’re children, and they’re individuals. They are not the reason so many people have struggled at P21. I have a lot more on my mind regarding our support to them and P21 but I’ll spare you all of it considering this is already a 400 page novel.

This was so interesting to read and I really agree with everything you said! It really puts into perspective how someone might seem really successful at their dance studio or any sport but actually be really struggling mentally

[flowerpotmage]

Tight Grip, Broken Dam (12)

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You don’t question it anymore, when Miguel appears in your bed at night. He’s not there for sex, no, you’ve never even kissed—though you would be lying if you said you weren’t open to the idea of kissing him. He’s there for comfort. For rest. If only it could stay so simple.

Pair: Miguel O'Hara & GN!Reader

Notes: for series: slow burn, ambiguous relationship, found family dynamics, reader is in their late 20s. for chapter: sexual tension, injuries and injury aftercare, references and nightmares about 90s comic run canon events

Word Count: 2.4k

Read this chapter on Ao3 here. If you like my work, please consider leaving kudos there as well! You do not need an account to do so.

a/n: deepest apologies for this series' absence! i hope this (only slightly) shorter chapter and the knowledge that i am already working on the next and hope to return to semi-regular updates will tide you over.

Your brief trip across town leaves you more winded than you hoped and less tired than you feared.

Your apartment is empty but for the presence of warm midday sun and green leaves when you return, kicking your shoes off and carefully setting yourself down on the couch, bones heavy with the weight of grief and exhaustion. There’s nothing to do now but rest, and so you don’t resist the warm embrace of sleep when it curls around you like hungry arms.

Brrring brrring!

The ring of your phone wakes you, the light now coming more brightly through your balcony doors.

A disoriented grumble escapes your throat as you shift, lifting yourself back up to lean against the back of the couch and immediately checking your side.

Sore. Sore, mostly dry, and unopened. Good.

Brrring brrring!

You find your phone in your coat pocket, having fallen asleep still fully dressed. Karen’s name lights up the screen. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes and clearing your throat, you answer the call and hold the phone to your ear.

“Karen, hey.”

“Hey!” She chirps through the line. “Matt and Foggy just won a case today, and–”

“Come drink with us!” Comes Foggy’s voice, shouted from somewhere in the room Karen has called from.

“I’m assuming you caught that.” You can hear the bemused expression on her face.

You try to chuckle, and fail, body too tired to force any levity. “I shouldn't tonight,” you say, wrinkling your nose and trying to roll out the stiffness in your neck. “I, uh—sick. Not feeling great.”

“Oh no!” Karen says, sympathetic. “Are you okay?”

You can hear the sudden silence from Foggy.

“Yeah, just uh. Out of it. Probably gonna just rest up for a few days, it’s a little rough.” You wince.

“Do you need anything?” She asks. “I don’t think it’s too far out of our way if you need some food. Some soup?”

You smile, heart warming at her thoughtfulness. “No, no, I’m all set. That’s really sweet though, thank you Karen.”

“Of course,” she says. “Rest up. We’ll see you when you’re feeling better.”

“Take an extra shot for me tonight.”

“Not like Foggy needs the excuse,” Karen laughs.

“What? What don’t I need an excuse for?”

“Wow, nosy,” you joke, smiling. “I’ll see you all next time.”

“Alright. Text if you need anything. I mean it.”

“You’re too nice. And I will, I promise,” you can’t help but smile. “Now go celebrate.”

Farewells are exchanged and the call ends. You drop the phone onto the couch, a heavy breath leaving your lungs. You linger for a moment before finally mustering the will to pull yourself off the couch and trudge into your room to change into your loosest pajamas.

Sleep pulls you back under its currents again.

Something pulls you from your slumber hours later, your cheek stuck to the pillow with dried spit, your vision blurry.

You haven't been this tired or slept so much since the spider bite that changed your life.

Your spider-sense pings and seconds later your bedroom door cracks open, Miguel in the open sliver between door and wall. His eyes meet your own, your head lifted slightly off the pillow from the surprise ping moments before.

“When’d you get here?” You ask, voice muffled and slurred.

“About an hour ago,” he replies, opening the door further. “You needed groceries, and I know you weren't going to be getting them anytime soon.”

You groan, letting your head fall back to the pillow. “You didn't need to do that for me.”

He crosses his arms, leans on the doorframe.

Now, with the door open, the smell of cooking finally reaches you and you rub your eyes. “ And you cooked?”

“I did.” There it is, his disproportionately endearing, pleased little half smile. Miguel crosses the distance from the door to your bed to help you up. “ Vamos, come on.”

“Thanks,” you mumble, when your feet finally find the floor. And again, after you’ve eaten and you sit side by side on the couch, sleep dragging down your eyelids once more: “Thank you, Miguel. For dinner, and… everything.”

“Of course,” he murmurs, and you slip into dreams once more.

The next morning, thankfully, finds you less fatigued. Miguel changes your bandages again, makes you breakfast, again, before leaving to fulfill his self appointed duties.

It continues like this as you heal. When Miguel isn’t at Spider Society HQ he’s in your home, cooking your food and cleaning your dishes and changing your bandages (You try not to go insane from the feeling of his hand on your bare skin). You don't ask, but you’re fairly certain the only sleep he gets is in your bed—a place you have to yourself less often than ever before.

Not that you’re complaining. Neither of you mentions it, of course, that he's visiting more while the skin over your ribs heals. You both seem to immediately accept this new normal and move forward as if it has always been the way things are. For Miguel’s part, he knows you don't have anyone here to take care of you properly—he knows you’ve lost family and more friends than most Spider-People usually had to start with—and so he takes the responsibility of you upon himself, and does so happily.

And mostly things are the same… mostly.

He learns about your favorite color, the watering schedule of your plants, how you miss having a pet but with the life you lead it doesn't feel like the responsible thing to do. He tries not to think about how it feels like learning more about someone you’ve been with for years, because he already knew which spoon was your favorite out of the somewhat mix-and-match selection, already knew about your aunt and your aunt's girlfriend on the force who still checked in on you up until her own death, your personal ASM-97 event.

He starts to feel disconcerted about how little he's shared in return, and tries his best to give something back. He mentions Gabriel in passing when talking about his childhood one day, during lunch.

“Gabriel?” You prompt.

“Ah,” he pauses, lowering his fork. To his plate. “My brother.”

The two of you are sitting on your couch, the balcony doors open wide to let in the fresh afternoon air that meanders through the open glass. Miguel holds his plate in one hand, you rest yours on your lap and your feet on your coffee table.

“I didn't know you had a brother,” you say. You want to rest your arm on the back of the couch, but despite your wound being at less risk of opening and bleeding, you’ve still been advised not to stretch the skin. So you pick at the couch cushion by your thigh with your nail instead, glancing at him.

Miguel nods. “Gabriella was named after him.”

Your heart squeezes. “Is he…?”

“He’s alive and well,” Miguel gives a reassuring, if rueful, smile. “It's just us two now.”

You nod. “Older or younger?”

“Younger,” he says, smiling at you. He rests his plate on his lap now, like you, and rests an arm on the back of the couch to angle towards you.

“Ah, oldest brother,” you raise your eyebrows and nod sagely. “That explains a lot.”

Miguel raises an eyebrow back at you.

You gesture at him vaguely. “I mean. Come on.”

Miguel scoffs, smiling, and then he tells you more about his family. About Tyler Stone and the secret his mother kept, how he’s not a true O’Hara but still carries the name. You sense he’s still keeping some things to himself, but you don’t press the issue, happy enough to even be let in this small amount. You hope that your adoration doesn’t show on your face too much as you watch him talk, lit with warm afternoon light.

Miguel feels lucky when he wakes up and can’t remember his dreams, because the nights that he does…

Flesh torn and shredded under his fingertips as gravity pulls the arm from his grasp, the man attached dangles infinite stories up from the streets and even farther to Downtown. The writhing gasp and scream of a man in pain and Miguel trying to save him and only making it worse. His father, angry and raging and taking it out on his mother. The smell of rotting flesh from his Vulture’s pantry, rotting cadavers stored haphazardly in a dark room in the underbelly of downtown waiting for—

No. Even in dreams it’s too sick to name.

Sometimes the horrors of his early days as Spider-Man blend with his life now. Gabriella’s rotting body in the pile in Vulture’s pantry. Gabriella, caught in an attack on his apartment, or in the crossfire between him and the Public Eye. You, hanging from his desperate grip after the lab explosion that changed him forever, your face twisted in fear and your arm shredded under his finger-pad talons as you slip from his grasp and fall to your death. You, in the pods for the long discontinued Corporate Raider program and killed in a fatal human-animal gene splicing test. You disappearing into the air, turning to less than ashes in his arms, or sometimes worse: You, holding Gabriella and reaching for him and the both of you disappearing when he reaches out, unable to so much as touch either of you one last time.

It’s not every night. Sometimes he dreams nonsense like everyone else, surreal landscapes with changing figures and storylines that mean nothing. Sometimes he dreams of happy memories or past almosts as if they had followed through on their potential. Schooldays with Xina or childhood games with Gabriel, or taking Gabriella to the Spider Society HQ like Peter does with May.

Sometimes he dreams about your skin, and your sheets, and your breath. Those ones always leave him distracted, off kilter and embarrassed through the rest of his day. He wishes he could bury them properly, leave them in his subconscious where they belong. Wishes he could keep himself from wanting to cross that line.

But tonight brings no dreams of pleasant pasts, no surreal landscapes, no ecstatic gasps and tangled sheets. Tonight he dreams of loss and pain.

A sudden jolt uproots you from sleep, dreams turn to evaporated particles in the air. At first you think there might be a threat, that perhaps your spider senses were what woke you, but the shallow and forcefully measured breaths in the bed next to you quickly inform you otherwise.

“Miguel?” Your voice is but a whisper as you prop yourself up, mindful of your ribs, your hand searching for him through the blankets. “Hey, hey, it's okay–”

He starts to say something, his voice dying in his throat before the first letter can even form on his tongue. His hand finds yours, wrapping tightly around palm and fingers alike. You scoot closer, doing your best with one hand now out of commission, and then you're partially hovering over him, your held hand supporting your weight.

“It's okay,” you whisper, and you begin to pet his hair back from his face. “You're okay.”

Even in the dark your eyes find each other. Before you can blink his arm is around you and you're pressed into his chest, his face hidden in your neck. You can feel each thundering beat of his heart through your chest as it slows, still beating too hard to fall into rhythm with your own.

“I’m here,” you whisper.

His arm tightens around your middle at that, a brief squeeze pulling you closer to him. His shuddered breath gusts across your skin where he’s buried his face.

“Bad dream?” you whisper into the hair above his ear, shifting above him to rest on his chest properly and rest one arm on the pillow by his head, the other sliding around his side to hold him in return.

“Sorry,” he whispers, ignoring your question, loosening his grip. “Your ribs-?”

“They’re fine, Miguel,” you say, your arm on the pillow by his head shifting.

As his heart slows, as his breath steadies and you wake fully, you become conscious of your body pressed into his. His face is still buried in your neck, and you feel his ribs expand under your body, raising you into the air.

His head falls back from your neck, resting on the pillow, and you lift your head to look at him in the dark.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

He pauses, eyes flitting between each of yours before he looks away. He pulls his arm back from around you, hand sliding to rest on your waist under your ribs.

“No.”

“Okay.” You prop yourself up further. “I’m here, though.”

He sighs, nods, closes his eyes.

Silence returns to the room, pressing in on your chest, squeezing your ribs like the bandages around your calf. You are too aware of your position nearly atop him, body pressed into the side of his chest with his hand still resting on your side, yours on his and your other bracing you above him on the pillow beside his head. You've been this close before, of course, and held one another much tighter in the dark. But something about this is different. Perhaps it's the way his fingers begin to unconsciously stroke your side and the way you've never gotten to look at him like this, above him, his eyes closed under you—

Your breath catches in your throat, and you lift your hand from his side to touch his face. His brow twitches, his hand tightens and relaxes on your side, and he sighs again as tension slowly drains from his body. You let your hand rest on his cheek more solidly, and his eyes flicker open to meet yours in the dark.

You hope he can’t feel the way your heart skips and then beats just that much harder. You swallow, hold your breath, and let your hand slide into his hair.

His eyes flutter shut, and everything freezes.

“Thank you,” he whispers, and the pressure of the air eases.

“Of course,” you finally say, your mouth dry, stroking your thumb back over his temple into his hair. You shift, settling down into his side.

His arms wrap around you once more. Neither of you speak, and you don't fall back asleep for a long while.

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[potato-of-yesnt]

After realizing I can make my own goddamn fanfic, I am doing so.

Preface:

Fem Reader (they/them)

Velvette x Reader

Characters: Valentino, Vox, Velvette, Y/N

Kinks implied: Dom/Sub

TW: toxic behavior, rough handling, implied r*pe

Valentino had had a ‘rough night’- his pornstars were acting tired after a 20+ hour shift- and he had decided to take it out on you. You had sat through about an hour of his screaming before Vox and Velvette walked in.

“HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL THEM?” Val was raging as the other two walked in.

“Tell them what dear?” Vox purred, striding casually over and caressing Val’s wings. Valentino visibly relaxed.

“My stupid sluts think it’s their right to decide how long they work. It’s a PRIVILEGE to work for me!” He spat.

“Oh darling…” Vox cooed, “Come on, let’s take you to the tower, we’ll… relax in there. I’ll meet you up there!” He called as Val stomped off.

Vox turned to you, “Assistant. You have had to endure a lot of him today. How about a little reward? Like last night?”

You pale. Last night. Your bruises throbbed. Your world narrows to tunnel vision. He grins, you flinch slightly. The world seemed to be spinning too fast, and you couldn’t breathe. A hand on your shoulder.

You snap out of it, and see Velvette standing in between you two.

“Vox, have you been messing with this one?”

He paused, his smile faltering. Then, “No, of course not!” His grin returned, full strength, “They begged me, so I thought ‘hey, what the heck, might as well!’”

“You’re not fooling me Vox. Hands off my models.”

“This one’s not even a model. They’re too ugly.”

“Wanna repeat that one FlatScreen?” Velvette spat, her hand clenching slightly, causing her nails to push into your shoulder blades lightly.

“This… freak? A model? Ha! This fatass couldn’t even fit INTO one of your dresses,” he chuckled.

“Funny of you to say that, they model my private work. Before it hits the main stage. I’m actually working on a new line of crop tops, and they look quite lovely in them.” Velvette’s hand relaxed.

“Crop tops? No wonder they’re such a slut. Fucking asking for it-“ he sneered, crossing his arms “- if you’re gonna show skin you gotta want it,” He turns his gaze to you, “Maybe that’s why you were so submissive last night?”

“We’re going now.” Velvette stated darkly, sliding her hand down to grab yours, pulling you away from the situation.

Once in her office, Velvette turns to you. “What did he do.”

“N-nothing…” you stammer, surprised at her protectiveness.

“I’m a safe space. I won’t tell anyone, or think any less of you.” Her demeanor softened, and she seemed to almost lean in, though that might be you projecting.

“I-… he-… it’s nothing. He just…”

“What is it, you can tell me,” Velvette prompted once more.

“I was going to his studio to drop off some papers. When I was leaving he… cornered me. Pushed me against the wall. I said stop, let me go, and…” you paused. Your face was wet, from tears you didn’t know had begun.

“Oh my… that’s… horrible. Come here.” Velvette beckoned you over to hug her. As you fell into her embrace you couldn’t help but feel… comforted. Loved. “I will never let that happen, ever again.” She mumbled into your neck, emphasizing the ever.

You realize mf the hug was lasting awfully long… then you felt a kiss on your neck. You tensed. She pulled away. It felt… empty, without her embrace. She was flushed, but seemed to be pretending it never happened.

You two got to work, you posing while Velvette put different clothes on you. You couldn’t help but notice that she seemed to be choosing a new outfit for longer and longer periods of time… and she glanced at you as she did so. Admiring you, it seemed.

It didn’t feel as predatory as it did when Vox… admired you. It felt good. It felt like you were wanted, by someone who cared about you. You might just be projecting again.

After the modeling was done, Velvette escorted you back to your private room. She made sure Vox wasn’t around, and told the security guards to not let him in if he came to your room.

You slept comfortably that night, safe in the knowledge that you were protected.

End of the First Installment

Comment if you want more :)

Forgot to link next Installment: https://www.tumblr.com/potato-of-yesnt/753897407478185984/making-another-installment-to-the-vevlvette-x

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

Hi Cal!!! How are you I hope you’re having a nice week!

Lol I hope you know you never have to say sorry for not having finished all the asks yet because 1. The amount and speed at which you write is truly impressive and mind blowing and 2. Literally every word you choose to share is a gift whenever it’s published

I absolutely LOVED 🦷 🛏️ and ➰ they were all so so well done and fun to read and just a general delight!

I had fun doing the themed asks last week so I think I’m gonna keep it going. Lol warning the themes are definitely gonna get more and more contrived as time goes on but hey that’s part of the fun right?

First theme is then and now! Stories that connect the very beginning of the show to where everyone’s currently at.

🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞 (one sentence and I’m already fascinated by the concept! There are so many ways you could take this one and I can’t wait to see how it goes!)

⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️ (i literally grin at my screen like an idiot every time I read about how happy and in love they are in this story! And I’m so pumped to meet the next Buddie kid! You already got me to fall in love with Violet and Nico so I can’t wait for the next one!)

- PCA <3

HI PCA!

Thank you!!!!! You are so so kind as always! I'm glad you liked the fics <3

Love this theme!

30 for 🪞 (thank you!!!! I'm excited to share my vision):

---

"Yes, Dove is a great kid. Peculiar sometimes, but sweet and smart. The problem is, with the rising costs of living and raising a family, fewer people are likely to adopt a child with pre-existing health conditions who is already six. But, we’re in Los Angeles. Maybe some wealthy family will take interest.”

Her tone when she says this last part isn’t confident. Crap. That’s not good. 

“So someone could ask to adopt her specifically?” Buck asks. 

“In theory,” Angie answers. “It’s a bit of a process.” 

“Right, yeah. My friends are in the middle of it actually.” Buck explains. “I hope Dove finds a family.”

“Yeah, me too. She deserves one.” 

When they end the call, Buck is all the more determined to solve this problem for Dove. 

iii.

He starts with Maddie and Chim. 

It’s not a hard decision. Maybe it would be harder under different circumstances. 

The person he thinks of first when he thinks of the ideal parent is Eddie. But obviously he’s not going to go there with this. Not the time. Like at all. Hen and Karen obviously would have been the perfect choice as far as taking in a foster kid with specific needs. But that’s no longer an option. Maddie and Chim have their foster license, though. And they’re good people! Chim was just as involved in saving Dove! They’ll want to help her. 

---

66 for ⚡️ (I am very excited to introduce them!):

---

All this to say, by the time they’re on one of their final trips, and the back of Eddie’s truck bed is loaded with stuff, Buck is tired. He’s sore from lifting, would very much like to get off his feet, and relax with a cool beer. But this is moving. Moving sucks. That’s a universal human experience. So Buck doesn’t complain. It’s only when he’s done securing the truck bed and walks back into the house for what is surely one of the last times, and calls out for Chris, who was gathering the last of his things from his former bedroom, that he begins to allow his fatigue to turn into frustration. 

Because Chris does not answer. 

Ten seconds pass. Twenty. Christopher doesn’t respond. 

“CHRIS!” Buck calls again. He figures Chris just has his headphones on. “Time to go, buddy!”

Again, nothing. 

Sighing, Buck tromps down the hallway towards Christopher’s room. The door is shut. Buck knocks on it.

“Chris?” He asks. 

“I don’t want to go yet!” Chris shouts from the other side. 

Buck, who could probably fall asleep if his head so much as touches a pillow, physically pouts at this. He wants to go back to the new house, where their mattress has been left on the floor of the bedroom while they set everything up, and power down like a house-moving robot that needs to recharge. 

“Uh, why not?” Buck asks. 

“Because this is my room and I don’t want to leave it!” 

Ah. Okay. 

Well, that’s interesting. Considering how he’d been excited about a house with a bigger bedroom. And not having to share a bathroom with Eddie and Buck. Literally, two days ago he was going on and on about how excited he was. So what gives?

“Can I come in?” 

“No,” Chris says. “I want to be alone right now.” 

Well… What the hell is Buck supposed to do with this right now?

He checks the time on his phone and tries not to groan. 

“Okay, Chris. I can give you ten minutes and then we need to get going, okay?”

“No! I don’t want to go in ten minutes. I want to stay here.”

Buck takes a deep breath. “Bud, there’s no furniture in there and there’s no food in this house. We’ve got to go home event-”

“THIS IS HOME! I like it here, just the three of us.” 

“It’ll just be the three of us at the new house, too. Where your room is bigger, remember that?” Buck tries. 

“Yeah, until you have another kid!” Chris replies accusingly.

Fuck. 

Buck really wishes Eddie was here for this. 

They haven’t actually said to him that they’re having another kid. They were going to wait until there was a more concrete plan. Not the nebulous idea of a kid, someday. Though Buck supposes it’s a bit less nebulous now that they’ve gone as far as choosing a name. 

“Alright,” Buck says. “I’m coming in.”

[watchoutforthefanfics]

achievement unlocked 🔓 (part seven) || Streamer AU! Reddie (IT)

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Inspiration: this prompt + BIRDS OF A FEATHER by Billie Eilish

Summary: Richie liked to play video games, and by some stroke of luck, it became his job. Being primarily known as Trashmouth on stream, he found his own little group of streamer friends and they became intertwined: The Losers Club. It never did feel quite complete, though. Well, until, he got his very own backseat gamer in chat.

TWs: innuendos, self-depreciation, lots of talk of sex (it's Richie), The Quarry (the game) spoilers, cursing, and shameless flirting.

[[A/N: Felt single writing this shit, fair warning. Y'all heard of Uhaul lesbians ??? Well, get ready for this, my friends !!! Enjoy :))]]

"Hey motherfuckers," Richie grinned, clapping his hands, "-Sorry about the wait, but we are back into The Quarry today."

The chat was filled with lots of different emojis, mostly excitement. Richie took it as a good sign, grinning wide. Maybe a little too wide, it was probably the biggest he'd ever grinned on stream. To be fair, he'd had a very good few days. Great days even-

reddy.bevvy donated $10: earth to richie can you hear me

"Shit," he cursed, "-fuck, sorry. I zoned out."

toziers-trash: guys does anyone think he's like strangely happy

girlie-pops: ✨️ adhd tingz ✨️

elite._.gamer: the Quarry again ?

trashmouth-for-me: @/toziers-trash that's kind of fucked up to say

younganddumb: adhd king I feel so seen

dizknees: I'm feeling an absence of Eddie in this chili's tonight

wait_weight87: yooooo this game is so good

too.tough.to.cry: seen this game before so hype to see trashmouth ruin it

genuine._.disappointment: @/dizknees no 🍝 :(

trashy.tozier: @/toziers-trash @/trashmouth-for-me no no I see the vision

big.bill: good choice rich

"Thank you, Billy," Richie grinned, dramatically placing a hand on his heart, before adding, "-you should thank chat though, they suggested it."

There was a slew of 'you're welcome's in the chat, and Richie watched them go by. He waited a few seconds trying pick out some messages.

"'Are you gonna go the villain route?' Okay, so, I was. Burning flames, everyone dead, etcetera, etcetera, but-" Richie leveled a look at the camera, "-chat told me there were gays. And then, I met the gays. And killing Dylan would in essence be killing myself. So-"

trashy.tozier: no ur right u r so dylan coded

elite._.gamer: so a good run then ?

girlie-pops: dylan = richie

dizknees: secret nerd who is gay meet secret nerd who is also gay

babey_boy: but do u ship them 👀

girls.girl: personally I'm more into emma and abby

hog-inthebog: how do u feel about laura and max tho

toziers-trash: @/dizknees now kiss

the.losers.are.better: ryan is bi put respect on the name 😤

trashmouth-for-me: no u and dylan are carbon copies what

tozier_babeyyy: there's some jacob in u don't lie

thuh-quarry: my fav is abby

trashy.tozier: @/tozier.babeyyy no u r so right he's a healthy mix

"Is Ryan the other one? The quiet guy? I know Dylan because he's fucking obvious," Richie commented, before switching into a southern accent, "-And I can say that because I am a full-blooded homosexual-"

Honk, honk.

eddie.kaspbrak donated $10: what the fuck did you just call yourself ?

"Eds!" Richie chimed, as happy as he always was (or maybe just a lil more, he'd never tell), "-And I said, that I'm-"

mike.me.up donated $1: no need to repeat yourself rich

"Okay, okay," he laughed, pretending to bow slightly, "-the beep beeps have been respected."

toziers-trash: EDDIEEEE

trashmouth-for-me: 🍝🍝🍝

trashy.tozier: EDDIE 🍝🍝🍝

dizknees: the king has arrived 🍝

girlie-pops: 🍝🍝🍝

genuine._.disappointment: yes 🍝 :)

the.losers.are.better: @/dizknees is Richie not the king ?

reddy.bevvy: 🍝🍝🍝

dizknees: @/the.losers.are.better there can be two kings have you ever heard of gay people

trashy.tozier: BEVVVV ??

tilt_my_towers87: 🍝🍝🍝

trashmouth-for-me: reddy.bevvy eddie.kaspbrak collab when

babey_boy: 🍝🍝🍝

genuine._.disappointment: @/trashmouth-for-me Eddie stream reveal ???

the.losers.are.better: @/dizknees AHJZHASNJSJH

peanutbutter-butterpops: the quarry is elite

Richie laughed, eyes flashing over his chat (they seemed to be as into him as he was), "Spaghetti, you're stealing my stream."

eddie.kaspbrak donated $10: maybe it's because you're doing jackshit

Richie laughed even harder, before shaking it off, "Alright, motherfuckers, Eds says let's get a move on. So let's start this shit."

They went through the motions, they had just introduced the premise and most of the characters at this point (he had no fucking clue what was going on with Laura and Max), and Richie was completely on edge waiting for the twist. There was always some evil, or some shit.

"Are we playing Truth or fucking Dare right now?"

They were, in fact.

Richie laughed at the situation, before faltering.

"Wait," he spoke, suddenly, "-it's not subtextual gay shit, it's real gay shit? I can kiss Dylan?"

elite._.gamer: they're much better together anyway

trashy.tozier: oh my sweet summer child

thuh-quarry: him and ryan def trauma bond through this

trashmouth-for-me: queerbaited one too many times ✋️😔

babey_boy: the girl doesn't even look that into it tbh

reddy.bevvy: @/eddie.kaspbrak check ur dms

peanutbutter-butterpops: @/babey_boy that's because she isn't

toziers-trash: @/reddy.bevvy WHATTTT

tozier_babeyyy: WAITTTT BEV AND EDDIE COLLAB WHEN

too.tough.to.cry: gay gay gay gay

genuine._.disappointment: new loser reveal 👀

eddie.kaspbrak: @/reddy.bevvy 👍

dizknees: @/reddy.bevvy @/eddie.kaspbrak what the fuck ???

Richie smiled a little, trying to chase it down (he was so fucked about Eddie, he was done for), eyes settling back on the screen, and promptly kissing Dylan. Obviously.

"Why are straight people so messy?" He chimed after a moment, watching a character (Abby, he gathered) run off into the woods, "-Like I know she was trying to show Jacob they're through or whatever, but fuck, man. That's your best friend's guy."

And then it all pretty quickly went to shit.

Richie, although he tried to prepare for it, was not entirely ready for it. He spent the rest of the stream asking chat what was going on, and somehow, they all formed an allegiance not to spoil it. When he was literally asking for it, which was kinda fucked. But it's his fans, so what can he say?

"Fuck, guys," he spoke, frantic later in the game, "-fuck, it's Dylan guys! He got fucking bit, what the fuck do I do? How do I save him?"

His eyes flashed to chat.

"I have to cut off his fucking hand?!"

It was a good fucking stream, he knows that much. And he really enjoyed himself, and got his heart pumping in his chest (for more reasons than one, wink-wink). It was a surprisingly fun game, and a lot more fucking nerve-wracking when you actually gave a fuck about the characters. He should probably do that more often-

He was in the kitchen now, phone laid on the counter as he made him a sandwich (with whatever the fuck he had in his fridge). Fingers dusting over cabinets, he debated exactly what he wanted and if it even actually mattered. He just kind of wanted to eat-

Ding.

It was embarrassing how fast he ran over to pick up his phone.

reddy.bevvy ✔️ has added you to 'the losers club 2.0'

Richie frowned for a moment, clicking through, they already had a groupchat. It wasn't used all the time, they mostly just used discord, honestly but still. It existed.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

bev ? what is this ?

reddy.bevvy ✔️

a new groupchat

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

we already have one ?

stan.the.man ✔️

Hate to say this but Richie's right.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

wow staniel, right where it hurts 😔

reddy.bevvy ✔️

shut up and let me do something

mike.me.up ✔️

you guys are in troubleee

Before Richie could type out a response to that, right in the chat, a message popped up.

reddy.bevvy ✔️ added e.kaspbrak

Richie blinked once and then twice, something twisting in his stomach. He was excited but at the same time, he really fucking hoped Bev had talked to Eddie about this beforehand. Richie didn't want him to be shoved in situations that would make him uncomfortable-

reddy.bevvy ✔️

everyone meet Eddie !!!

benny.boy.official ✔️

hi eddie !!! hope you're doing okay

mike.me.up ✔️

hey Eddie !!

stan.the.man ✔️

Richie's Eddie?

Richie blinked at the message, and debated typing out a few different things. Like maybe 'I wish' or 'yeah, eds from my chat' or maybe he could just leave the groupchat in like total-

e.kaspbrak

Yes, I'm Richie's Eddie.

Richie grinned and felt his heart flip in his chest. My Eddie. It made something zing down his spine, and reminded him of that photo of Eddie smiling with the scrunched-up nose-

big.bill ✔️

I feel like I'm missing something

Who is Eddie?

Huh, did he never hear any of this? Did nobody tell him? Bill was super oblivious though, honestly, so he could've been told and not understood it for what it was.

stan.the.man ✔️

Have you really not heard anything?

Like at all?

big.bill ✔️

What, are you and Richie dating or something?

Is this like meeting the parents?

Richie again had a few things flutter through his mind, an assortment of answers. Some mortifying and some more acceptable. Some putting literally himself on the line, others a little insulting honestly-

e.kaspbrak

Not yet.

God, he had the instinct to just twirl like he was seven and trying to be a ballerina. Or maybe like he had a pretty, wispy skirt on and it would flow prettily in the wind as he spun. He really debated asking Bev for one, because that sounded fucking sick as hell. He could wear a little sunhat, and make his hair actually look good, maybe Eddie could help with that actually. He knew all that medical shit, right, so he should be able to-

mike.me.up ✔️

I think you killed him.

stan.the.man ✔️

No, he's still reading messages.

He's probably just taking in the fact that someone actively wants to date him.

big.bill ✔️

He does collectively date assholes.

Richie rolled his eyes, and typing with a breath.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

okay enough of the let's bully Richie train guys

e kaspbrak

It's not bullying if it is factual, dipshit.

Richie laughed, tipping his head back a second. He felt a little like he couldn't stop smiling. Maybe ever.

stan.the.man ✔️

I like you, Eddie.

Maybe you'll finally knock some sense into Richie's big ass head.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

I will leave this gc guys

e.kaspbrak

No, you won't.

Yeah, his mind chimed, as he smiled too big (or maybe just right), no I won't.

It was like a week later, and the whole groupchat thing was going really well. After confirming with Eddie that he had, in fact, wanted to be in it, everyone really seemed to meld together. Richie was pretty much floating on cloud nine, he loved his fucking friends and Eddie was getting along with them. That was like dream fucking scenario for him. So, yeah, life was pretty fucking great, actually.

Now though, Richie was just wandering around his apartment, fidgeting with figurines, bored as hell. Eddie was at work, or else he'd be bothering the fuck out of him. Poking and prodding unlike anyone else. He had no limits with Eds, mostly because he physically told him he liked him. He enjoyed his fucking presence. Which was a first for one Richie Tozier.

He was gonna milk the shit out of it.

He groaned, throwing himself back into one of his beanbag chairs (he almost ate shit actually, but no one was there to see it). He stared up at his ceiling for a few moments, just eyeing different patterns -he tried to trace a few things. Shapes and patterns and sometimes a face, and freckles, and a cheesy big ass smile-

God, he was so fucked. So gay, so very gay.

He likes you too, Richie reassured, he told you that. And you believe him.

He pursed his lips for a second and blew out a raspberry. His hand was splayed along his chest, he tapped his fingers to an imaginary beat. Or maybe it was Brittney Spears, actually-

And then, he had a stray thought. Would he video chat? If I asked, would he say yes?

Richie thought about it for a second, letting the thought mull over in his mind. To be honest, he'd really only let Eddie choose the pace. And that was fine, it kinda felt right. Richie didn't want to overstep either, honestly, so it kinda worked out that way. Everything they do actually kinda fit, it was fucking really weird. And also very fucking awesome. He felt oddly in place, like he fucking belonged there.

Eddie was just... how could he even describe it? Well, obviously, his favorite person-

His phone rang with the same sort of melodic chime as last time, and Richie felt it vibrate against his chest.

Once again, it was very embarrassing how quickly he flipped his screen to himself.

e.kaspbrak is calling

Richie furrowed his eyebrows for just a second, before answering. Was he not at work? Did he leave early? Was everything okay?

He answered anyway.

The first thing he heard was rushed steps and the buzz of crowds. He even thought he heard some cars honking, it sounded like... well, it sounded like the streets of New York.

"Eds?" Richie questioned, concerned, "-Are you okay?"

It took a second, the cars still filling his ears. Richie nearly booked a flight right then, he was so fucking worried.

"Eds? Seriously, you're freaking me out-"

"I quit my fucking job," Eddie snapped out, big huffs of breath.

Richie paused, taking that information in, "What?"

"It was that same fucking coworker," he continued, ranting, "-she wouldn't fucking leave me alone, so I told her I was talking to someone-"

Richie's brain flatlined for a second. Right.

"-and she threw a customer's order on me! Burning hot fucking coffee, and then, my manager fucking got onto me-"

"Eds, breathe-"

"-And I just have had enough of this shit, I hate New York, I hate my job-"

"Eds-"

"-and I just fucking quit. I quit, Richie."

"Eds," Richie spoke, calmly, "-breathe."

He heard the crash of his breaths through the phone, he couldn't tell if it was frustration or panic. It was maybe both. No, definitely both.

"Fuck, Richie," Eddie said suddenly, much more frantic, "-I just quit-"

"Eds, seriously, calm down," Richie spoke louder, "-You're gonna be fine. You said you hated it anyway-"

"Richie," Eddie breathed out, "-I have to pay rent. I have to survive-"

He said it before he could stop himself, "Just come to California."

There was a breath, and Richie almost just hung up out of embarrassment. God, he really needed to get a hold of himself. Richie had to get control of that, seriously. It was such a fucking problem-

Eddie spoke, suddenly much more calm (mostly disbelief), "What?"

"What?" Richie repeated. Hoping whatever God above didn't hate him.

"What did you just say?"

"Me?" Richie asked, blankly.

"Fucking obviously you, dickweed," Eddie stressed, somewhat frustrated, "-What did you say?"

"I said," Richie cleared his throat, stating awkwardly, "-you can just come to California... If you, If you want to-"

Eddie interrupted, "Seriously?"

"I, uh," Richie swallowed, he didn't know what was wrong to say here, "-Yeah."

"Really?" Eddie asked in a tone he couldn't quite read. (Was this bad or good? He had no fucking clue.)

"Yeah, Eds," he spoke -carefully, "-I have an apartment, and I stream and stuff so... you don't have to worry about money. Until you get back on your feet, I mean. I don't... I can help after too but I didn't think... It's not that I won't pay for your living, but I just figured-"

"Richie," Eddie leveled, "-shut the fuck up."

Richie muttered out sheepishly, "Yeah, okay."

"Are you-" Eddie continued, "-Are you seriously offering? For me to come to California with you?"

"Well, Bev has an apartment too," Richie responded, deflecting, "-if that makes you uncomfortable, she probably has an extra bedroom actually-"

"If I'm going to go to California, I'm living with you, moron. Obviously."

Richie's brain flatlined again (his heart beating so fast he felt like it should shoot out of his chest like in those cartoons), and he thought for a second he might just die here, in a beanbag chair. Surrounded by his shit, and on the phone with Eddie. That might actually be a pretty good way to die. Fucking focus, Richie. You have to respond-

"Okay," he replied, blankly (awkwardly even).

"So?" Eddie pushed.

"So what?"

"God, are you even fucking listening to me?" He asked, but Richie could tell it was rhetorical, "-Are you seriously offering me to come to California?"

"Yeah, of course, Eds," Richie chimed, instinctively.

The phone was silent for a few seconds, and Richie swore he could physically hear his heart beating. Pounding actually, like he'd just run a mile. Maybe 10. It made him wonder if Eddie could hear it. The whole situation settled on his shoulders.

You haven't even videochatted, and you offer him to live with you? God, you are so fucking stupid-

"Three months," Eddie suddenly spoke.

Richie pursed his lips for a second, confused, "What?"

"I've got three months left of like... rent that I paid," Eddie clarified.

"Oh-kay," Richie commented, "-and what exactly are you trying to say here, Eds?"

"I can leave," Eddie continued, "-after... after three months I can leave."

Richie's heart skipped a beat.

"Because I'm not wasting fucking money," Eddie added -abruptly, "-not even for you."

Richie choked out a laugh (and decidedly ignored that last part). Eddie did that a lot, actually, made Richie laugh. He kind of felt like Eddie was the funniest person on the planet sometimes. Though, he might be a little biased.

"I get it, Eds," Richie replied, still kind of laughing, before asking, "-What about food and shit? Do you need-"

"No," Eddie interrupted, speaking casually, "-I have like three emergency funds."

"You have three emergency funds?" Richie asked in disbelief, "-Why were you even fucking stressed Spaghetti?"

"Well," he seemed to pause a second, almost a little embarrassed, "-I also kind of fucking hated my life, that was also part of the problem."

And you won't hate it here? Richie's mind dinged, and his heart fluttered in his chest, Because of me?

"Wow, Spagheds, that stings-"

"Not you, fuckface," Eddie cut him off, near immediately, "-I don't hate the you part. Just... Just everything else."

Richie felt a little like the breath was stolen out of his lungs. How many times can you flatline before you're actually dead? Was there an experiment on that? Actually, that would kind of be fucked up, maybe there's a statistic he can look up-

"I'll come to California," Eddie spoke again, suddenly fully confident in his words, "-in three months, I'll come to California."

"To live with me?" Richie asked, maybe smiling just a little. (Okay, a lot.)

"Have you listened to a word I fucking said, dipshit?" Eddie asked, but Richie could tell he was smiling, "-Yes, obviously."

"Okay," Richie grinned, "-three months."

"Three months," Eddie confirmed -a little cheerily. It made Richie's head spin.

And then, Richie's mouth started moving again (without his permission, of course).

"Are we dating?"

Eddie snorted in response, and Richie felt a wave of heat smooth over his face. Right, his mouth fucking wins again-

"You are such a freak," Eddie spoke through laughter, "-You ask me to fucking move in with you, and then you ask if we're dating?"

"Well," Richie started, embarrassed beyond fucking belief, "-I just say stupid shit and then... and then ya know-"

"Richie," he interrupted, voice suddenly serious (in a calming sort of way actually), "-stop. You're doing that thing where you assume shit again."

Richie's lips snapped shut.

"We talk like every fucking day, we flirt like every fucking day-" Eddie continued, "-It's just very obvious, dipshit."

"Yeah, but you just said we were talking-"

"Because I wasn't sure if it was like... right," Eddie clarified, suddenly flustered (it made Richie grin so big he wanted to explode) "-Like if you... You know."

"I know what?" Richie asked -innocently.

"Oh, fuck you, trashmouth," Eddie puffed out, and Richie almost felt fucking giddy. He probably looked so fucking cute right now.

"I'm just asking a question, Spaghetti," Richie leveled back, but this time he couldn't hide the smile in his voice.

"You're such a dick."

Eddie was laughing then, just a little. He was trying to hide it, but it made Richie burst into laughter -full-blown, full-body laughter. He heard Eddie pipe up on the other side of the line, through laughs of his own.

"Don't fucking laugh at me, fuckwad," he seemed to try to convey seriousness.

Richie responded, "I can't help it, you're just too fucking cute, Eds-"

Eddie replied, instantly (laughs sneaking through the words), "You are clinically insane."

They laughed like that for a while, any time it died down the other one would just start laughing harder. It was like a domino effect. Richie was pretty sure he'd never laughed so hard in his life, actually. And he had some fucking funny friends, so that was saying something.

When it actually started to die down, the comfortable silence wasn't scary to Richie for once. Didn't mean he didn't want to fill it though.

"Eds?"

He got a low hum in response.

And Richie hesitated only for a second, words and thoughts skimming through his head. There was nerves there, but they were hard to focus on, not with everything else. He felt better than at peace then, his mind was still going but with nicer things now. Better things. Happy.

He spoke, as natural as breathing, "Date me, Eddie Kaspbrak?"

Eddie paused, only for a second.

"I'll date the shit out of you, Richie Tozier."

[sugurus-thoughts]

Hey I don't wanna sound crazy but I was reading your "Santa doesn't know you like I do" and I- I literally have the EXACT vision for myself. I am currently about to enter undergrad school but I have this scenario in my head that I want to become Lawyer afterwards, probably live in New York, independent and rich. And you know I am a book girly, so ofc there are times when I like to fantasize about the future that I might have in this vision, and I usually hate men but I always kind of wish that maybe in the future, if I truly ever build my life this way, I hope someone comes in my life not for sex or casual shit but to actually get to know me, and know the hidden parts of my heart,because if I am being honest with you, I have never dated any guy, and even though I am still too young, but alot of people around me have, but anytime a guy approaches, I actually cut everything off really quickly for this sole reason, because guys my age around me don't think this way, for them it's another girl, another crush (not speaking for every male here obv, just the people that have come in MY life). So I was having this fake scenario and was also wishing to write it down somewhere, which was EXACTLY like your fic.

When I started reading the paragraph where you mentioned that Y/N was a lawyer, independent but guarded, I am not gonna lie to you, I physically gasped and stayed in that stance for over 10 seconds.

It's completely, exactly like how things were in my mind. Omg I still cannot believe it, it's so strange but yeah, I loved your writing <3

Hi sweetie 🤍

Hope you are well, thank you so much for the ask, it's my second one I've received which makes me feel very grateful.

This is most beautiful way you think of your future self. Firstly let me say, I didn't even have the intention on starting this drabble like this, I earased it so many times until, I got the idea. I wanted to create this because of women like us, that feel this way. I'm just like yourself career driven, ambitious, straightforward (let's not to mention the hate men) —and it's completely normal to be that way. In any way do not feel like you should change yourself for anyone just to fit in this society, I believe that one day you will meet your significant other in a very different way, one day he'll probably have to fight for his damn life to court you. You don't even have to date now, there's no need for that at all —I'm happy you made that decision for yourself to chase after your career and be an independent, hard working woman. It's not everyday you get to see women like this, so be a big inspiration for other younger girls in this generation to become like you, like us out there.

As for the men these days I agree with you —women as well. Our generation has changed a lot which led to so many different tactics that men do, even women. It's truly sad if you think about it, but in the end it's truly rare to find that 2% of men and women that are still on that level of values which is a blessing in my honest opinion. But I truly know that your dreams will come true, you will become successful and independent, I use this quote all the time "where there is a will there is a way". So for the time being when you enter your undergradate make sure you work on yourself love—mentally, physically and emotionally to one day be your own strength of pillar.

You will make it!!

ps: thank you for enjoying my writing, I hope you enjoy much more of my future writing 🤍🫂 have a lovely day/night

[starsinkpop]

ATEEZ Jung Wooyoung Tarot Reading - Future Spouse

Disclaimer: I do tarot readings for fun, so please read them with a grain of salt. Don’t take my words too seriously and just keep an open mind. Tarot is a divination tool that can’t predict the future, as every single individual has their own will and makes their own decisions. Tarot should be seen as a guidance and a good friend that just has your best interest and gives you advice when needed. I’m not putting anyone in my readings on a pedestal nor am I trying to harm anyone. One last side note, I’m not a native speaker, so please excuse any wrong spellings or poor grammar.

Date of Reading: October 22th 2023

Decks: Ethereal Visions Tarot, Dreamscape Oracle, Romance Angel Oracle, Love Oracle, island time wellness love Oracle, Angel Answers Oracle Cards

VI The Lovers, XVIII The Star (R), XII The Hanged Man, Ace of Wands, XXII The Well (R), Two of Cups (R)

I’m getting the energy of a very sweet but kinda broken soul here

they’re very pleasant to be around, others make wonderful memories with them

people like them a lot I think

Wooyoung and his fs don’t have a past together, as in like spending their childhoods together or something like that, this is a new and unexpected connection

this is someone who has a hard time letting go of the past

they could be a pisces or have pisces placements in their chart

I’m getting a very dreamy and soft energy

Wooyoung and them are complementing each other

they balance each other out

this person is kinda hard to trigger, they have a very strong self control and it’ll take a long time for them to actually lose patience and explode, but people shouldn’t test their patience

they could be a late bloomer, Wooyoung could be their first real romantic relationship

that doesn’t mean they’re inexperienced

I see this more like they know their values and worth and just don’t settle for anyone less and kinda “sort” people out before they could cause damage

they just never seemed to have been a serious relationship

so they’re basically just dreaming about the perfect relationship for them

but when they meet Wooyoung it’s like he’s hitting every box

and they would feel actually safe to allow that romance coming it

they love to flirt tho and people actually easily catch feelings for them

but they just flirt for funsies and don’t even realize they’re making so many hearts race

in general they seem to be very playful and funny

they’re very lucky, like the worst situations seem to always turn into something positive for them

success is always on their side as well

they could be rich and financially independent or just have a good income that allows them to enjoy life on a regular base - no financial struggles

could also work towards financial independence

I think in this relationship everything happens fast, they gonna meet for the first time and shortly after that will be officially together, move in together quite early, get engaged after just a few months

it’s like Wooyoung and his fs can’t wait to spend their lives together

they have a very strong connection from the very first time they meet

there’s some indications that in this connection one will unexpectedly reveal their feelings and kinda sweep the other one of their feet

it honestly feels more like Wooyoung’s energy, he’s probably the one who would tell them right away he likes them and tell them about his intentions

I normally don’t channel songs but I’m hearing Post Malone’s “I like you” (and have to think about the iconic Woo fancam lol), maybe that song is significant

the person is very protective of their private life and loved ones, I don’t think they’re in the public light

they could be in constant transformation, always changing something about their life or looks as they could get bored easily

they really hate monotony and routines

if their life is stagnant they destruct and end things without hesitation

sometimes they kinda doubt themself, even see themself as a failure as they don’t seem to go for their dreams. Something is holding them back

I’m having a bit of a hard time to exactly get what’s happening here, but it’s like they have a lot of dreams but always seem to give up on them as soon as there’s one draw back

but because of that they’re also getting new insights and create new opportunities for themself, kinda constantly challenging themself

they need that in some type a way, as they seem to have a very fast working mind and don’t want to waste time on situations, dreams, and ideas that maybe won’t work out

they would sacrifice themself and their own needs for the ones they love the most

they rather live in pain to see their loved ones in happiness than seeing them suffer

big empath, they want to take the pain away from the ones they cherish the most

they’re also always kinda suspicious of others and could take a bit longer to open up to them, if they ever open up

Wooyoung’s fs is also very creative and always have new ideas running through their mind

they could be into photography

this is someone who is very passionate and has a pretty high libido

for some looks, I think they could have blonde hair or just a quite light hair color

red could be their favorite color or just generally be very significant in their life, like they have a red car or something like that

Love,

~Nicky 🫧

Masterlist

[yinnina]

𝚆𝚎𝚕𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚃𝚘 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚅𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚜' 𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚕𝚍

My head started throbbing in pain, screaming for light while my lungs shouted for some air to be let inside. I tried opening my eyes, but I couldn't see anything, and darkness had taken over my vision.

I began to feel as my head stirred, making me hokd it in place as I closed my eyes. My vision didn't turn any darker than it was, but rather lighter, and once I opened them again, I saw the face of a man with beautiful features that were contained within him, but everything went dark once again.

Once I managed to move inside the stuffy cage-like, I started to see the top of the box opening, meeting the eyes of a small animal that looked to be a cat.

'Just where am I? This is clearly not the academy.'

I didn't pay much attention to the cat, but rather myself, and once I turned to look at clothes, I saw that I was wearing something different than the usual outfit I wore. A black hood with a purple layer on the inside along with some white patterns that spread through some part of the hood.

I noticed that I had black clothes underneath too, which shocked me and put me in a train of thoughts as to who changed my clothes.

I decided to pay attention to my surroundings as I had witnessed that the cat-like animal was now staring at me. "What?! You ain't supposed to be awake!" Screamed the creature in shock.

"Floating coffins?..." I murmured, not paying attention to the talking cat.

"Oh-ho! You got a lot of nerve ignoring me, human! The name's grim. Believe me, you won't forget it!" I saw as Grim crossed his little arms, furious at the thought of being ignored, "Now give me your uniform, and be quick about it!

"'Cause if you don't," blue fire started spreading all around me like a wildfire, "you're gonna regret it!"

"I would've never dreamed of getting roasted by some weasel-like creature..." I whispered, angering the creature.

"Well, keep dreaming, 'cause I ain't no weasel!"

"What is it you want?" I asked, and Grim seemed satisfied with my question, smirking as he crossed his arms once again, "Your uniform, of course! I need it more than you would ever need it!"

While he was speaking, I noticed that there was an exit through the fire, and I decided to take it to my advantage. I ran all over the place, opening and closing doors as I passed through them, finally making it to what seemed to be a library.

'If this is a dream, I believe I'm ready to wake up now.'

Just then, Grim appeared in front of me once again. His face held the same grin I had seen previously, and his flames surrounded me for a second time, "Foolish human! Did you really think you could slip away from me?! Now, unless you wanna get burned to a crisp, take that off that-"

Grim was cut off by a whip-like sound that came from behind him, "YEOW! That Hurt! What gives?..."

"Consider it though love," I saw as a man came into our vision, wearing a formal attire with a top hat and a mask that probably represented a bird.

"Ah," he turned to look at me, "I've found you at last, splendid. I trust you're one of this year's new students?"

"My," I saw as he looked me up and done, almost as if judgemental, "were you ever eager to make your debut. And bringing a poorly trained familiar with you? That is a clear violation of the school's rules."

"I don't even-" "As if I'd serve some lowly human! Now let me go!" Screamed the furry creature, interrupting me mid-sentence.

The man got closer to the floating animal, shushing it as it talked, "Yes, yes. Rebellious familiars always say that. Do be quiet for a bit, won't you?"

Grim tried to talk, but he couldn't, which confused me a little. This made me go back to before all of this. Why exactly was I here when I already had a chosen school?

I remembered the academy. It was a huge, all-girls school called Rose Killer Academy, named after the founder, who was a young, smart woman who everyone knew due to her wisdom.

I was already a third year, so it made me wonder why exactly I was stuck in this situation. And thinking about it brought me back to the person who stood in front of me.

By the looks of the uniforms, it was one of the colleges that Rose Killer Academy held a grudge against. And knowing that it wasn't Royal Sword Academy thanks to the dark colored theme uniforms, I came to the conclusion that it was their major rival.

Both schools were all-boys schools, so I had a hard time believing that they must've mistaken me for another student. But needless to say, I decided to ignore it at the moment, only speaking when necessary.

"Dear me. Of all the students I've dealt with, you two are the first ones with temerity enough to open their own gate and step out of it," I hadn't noticed before, but was this other student, a boy, standing next to the crow-man, wearing the same uniform as me, "does the very notion of patience elide you two?

"No matter. Your orientation has already begun. Let us return to the Mirror Chamber."

Me and the boy stood quietly for a brief second, only for the silence to be broken by his voice, "Student?..."

The man with the mask nodded in response, "You awakened in a room full of gates, did you not? All the students here at the campus arrived by passing through such gates," he crossed his arms in an irritated manner, "although typically the students have restraint enough to wait until I pen them before waking up."

"So these coffins are like, gateways?" I asked, and the boy agreed with me, "I think something blew the lid off mine."

He looked at the younger boy, who was now standing next to me, "The culprit appears to be that familiar of yours. You're the one who insisted on bringing it, so curtailing its behavior is your responsibility!" He placed his hand under his chin, thinking of a solution, "But now is not the time for such prattle. You two have a student orientation to attend. Go on, now. Make haste."

"First, just tell me one thing: Where am I?" The boy asked, and I agreed, "I think you've mistaken me for someone."

"Hmm? Have you two not fully regained consciousness? The timespace teleportation must have added your memories. Well, these things happen, I suppose. I shall explain it to you while we walk. Truly, my magnanimity is boundless."

We exited the building, onto the courtyard, and as he explained where we currently were, I decided to stay quiet on the topic that I was actually a girl, since they hadn't noticed yet.

"Only those who the Dark Mirror perceived as having a talent for magic are admitted to the college. Those who are selected are summoned to the campus through those gates, which can appear anywhere."

The man, who I now knew as Crowley, informed us about the carriage, which both me and the student remembered.

We both heard the muffled sounds of Grim, but Crowley decided to speak up, "Now, let us attend to your orientation."

"Wait!"

Both males turned to look at me. "Is there something wrong?" Asked the masked guy.

"There is, in fact, something wrong," I took off my hood from my head, revealing my face to them, "this is an all-boys school, isn't it? The problem is, I'm a female, not a male."

Crowley was deep in thought, placing his hand under his chin, "There must've been a mistake made, but if you were really brought by the Dark Mirror, then you must've been chosen, or something along those lines. Say, where are you from?"

I stayed silent, not knowing how to answer, "Well?"

"I'm from the Walking Sands Desert, but I attend Rose Killer Academy as a third year. I'm not sure what you will do with that information, but I shall assume that it will come in handy," I crossed my arms, making eye contact with Crowley as the nameless boy just stood there confused.

"Walking Sand Desert? Rose Killer Academy? I think I'm missing something."

I nodded, then explained about the academy to the youngster, "Rose Killer Academy is a strict college that many of the smartest, wisest and talented people go to. The school has its ups and downs, for while you are seen as one of the most prestigious people, the stress keeps mounting on as the years go.

"Not many people qualify, and the headmistress held various, strict rules that no one dared break out of fear. Students couldn't fail a year, or else you would gain a harsh punishment. No one was suggested nor invited to take part in the school, the students were expected to pass a test that contained the use of agility, ability, magic and wisdom in order to pass and get into said school. There were also many minor rules, but if I were to name them all, we would be stuck here for years."

The headmaster cleared his throat, placing his hand under his chin, "Walking Sand Desert is, in other words, a matriarch Kingdom, and while there are kings, it is the female that carries most of the responsibilities and holds more power. The place is extremely guarded, and the only people who are allowed inside are the people that have permission of the royal family. The kingdom is not always reachable, due to its strict rules, but it can be found in its own land, between Sunset Savannah and Queendom of Roses.

"The [L/N]'s currently consist of a king and queen, along with their daughter. Nothing much is known from both the family of rulers nor the land, all that can be said, is that they are a powerful kingdom who, even with their strong army, prefer keeping peace.

"And with the key information that no one other than royalty and special families are allowed out of the city, I'll take the wild guess that you are [Y/N] [L/N], am I right?"

I crossed my arms, not rather shocked by how quick he was to find out, "That is correct, although, people are allowed out of the city with permission of the royal. But needless to say, I presume that, since now you know who I am, you will keep me here longer to bring an eye to your school, correct?"

The headmaster chuckled, dismissing me. While Crowley led us, I turned to look at the student next to me, "Say, you never told me your name."

"Huh, me? Sorry! Call me Yuu, it's a pleasure meeting you."

We exchanged a few words, until we turned our attention back to the bird masked man. He brought me and Yuu to a room full of people, who wore an identical outfit to ours. The room was not only heavily crowded, but it also carried a mysterious aura to it. Coffins levitated through the air, and a mirror laid in front of our eyes.

"We're done with orientation and dorm assignments?" Asked a boy with red hair, "All right, new students-let me be clear. At Heartslabyul House, I am the law. Break the rules, and it's off with your head!"

Then, a boy who had long haired, some parts braided, yawned, "Well, that ceremony was as boring as ever. I'm going back to the dorm. If you're in Savanaclaw House, follow me."

A boy who wore glasses then spoke, "New students! Allow me to be the first to congratulate you on your achievement. As dorm leader of Octavinelle House, I am honored to have the opportunity to support you in what I hope will be a fulfilling campus experience."

I then saw a boy with blond hair that faded into a shade of purple speak, looking around for someone, "Hey, does anyone know where the headmage went? He disappeared midway through the ceremony..."

He was replied to by some other boys, but that was when the headmaster decided to speak up, responding to the boy who thought he disappeared due to a stomach ache, "I most certainly did not!"

"Speak of the devil," One murmured.

"If you must know, I was searching for two new students who'd failed to show for orientation. You two are the only ones who have yet to be assigned a dorm. Let [Y/N] be the first to step up to the Dark Mirror, and be quick about it. I'll watch your weasel."

Grim tried to speak once again, but failed in the process. I walked up to the mirror that held a face, or rather a mask, and it asked me for my name.

"[Y/N]. My name is [Y/N] [L/N]."

The mask repeated my name in a low tone, and whispers started spreading as I pulled my hood down from my face, revealing my female features.

"The nature of your soul is..." It stayed silent for a few moments, and everyone got quiet, waiting for the results. The mirror furrowed his eyebrows in frustration, "In a balance."

"What?"

"Your soul... It is balanced between two houses, Heartslabyul and Savanaclaw. It will be placed upon you to determine which house you will go to."

I looked back to the headmage, and saw that he was in just as much shock as I was. I sighed, "I'll give Heartslabyul a try."

[blueberrytwoberry]

Every time I see gifs of Eddie going off in the grocery store I am reminded of my Buck "Actual (Accidental) Deadbeat Dad" Buckley idea. Just... it would be so delicious to me.

Like, alright. Buck is tooling around the country, ends in Texas for a while. Doesn't remember most of his time there, afterwards, maybe a really fun party where he has vague memories of having the *best* time with someone but he's got a lot of memories like that. So he doesn't really think about it after he leaves.

Eddie, on the other hand, cannot NOT think about it, because after sneaking out to a party and making time with a cool stranger from out of town in the stranger's Jeep, Eddie is in Trouble.

(How? Idk my ideas vary. Maybe things are WAYYYY cooler in the country and military than in our reality and he's been transitioning a while, maybe it's some a/b/o thing, maybe a secret third option)

In any case. He's in a tough spot. This is where Shannon comes in and both saves and dooms them, because sure, they can go on a "summer trip" and sure when they come back with a baby they can say *she* gave birth to him, and sure, they'll get married and she'll care for the baby while he's away.

And she tries, really she does and she loves Chris and she loves Eddie but at a certain point it's leave or die and so she leaves (and dies anyway but at least she lives for a while first).

ANYWAY. i have this vision of Eddie running into Buck, whose name he probably never even got, seven years After the Party and dealing with the fact the Buck clearly doesn't remember him at all (ouch) and also seems to be the same kind of ass he was back then and *then* realizing that maybe Buck did grow up a little. Letting him meet Chris without actually telling him anything. And kind of... poking at the idea of it as the year goes on. Maybe even deciding after the tsunami that he is gonna come clean.

And then Buck pulls the lawsuit and all that entails and Eddie gets to say some of the things he's always wanted to and sure, Eddie *says* he forgives Buck and even eventually does, but never forgets and every time they start to get closer, that memory comes back and he makes sure to keep space between them...

Until, I don't know, the Buckley parents show up and take a look at Chris and reveal some kid pictures that are preeeeeetty hard to ignore and they actually have to deal with it, their history, their feelings, their future--

[chemicalarospec]

hold up guys I am being plagued with visions of Magical Girl L

okay so everyone's heard of talking cat Ryuk, but now get ready for: talking cat Watari

he's actually a wizard who's been trapped in this form and there's a whole arc about breaking that spell

but at the end he decides he likes being a cat better (to the great exasperation of L) so he only turns back into an old man when L needs him to

he's got his Wizard Realm Tower (of books and knowledge)

yeah Prince of Darkness Light Yagami is cool and all but personally I feel like high-concept AUs that cast Light as an Open Villain miss the whole point of him being a liar in plain sight

so you know have most Magical Girls have a team of friends? L has NO FRIENDS

also idk what like his powers are. Magical Girl is just a category of its own, right? I'm between a girl outfit and a prince outfit (like one in a fic I read) tho.

well, he has no friends... until he meets Light!

and they start vanquishing The Forces of Evil or whatever it is Magical Girls do together

until Light gains a black Book of Forbidden Knowledge

yes that's right I'm creating a new plot of Magical Girl (I think) and there's gonna be BETRAYAL.

Ryuk is NOT a cat btw. I think it's really funny if the scary shinigami are just there in this magical girl aesthetic. they're probably the Evil being fought

it's not the Death Note btw it like teaches him Black Magic and Ryuk tries to convince him to come over to the Dark Side and stuff

oh maybe Misa and Matsuda can also be Magical Girls. I haven't really thought about the other characters.

anyways from here we have two choices: he's just evil and they fight and stuff or

Light CORRUPTION ARC and we return to a more typical Magical Girl plot by having L save him from the corruption of the Evil Black Magic and stuff.

Light gets an evil throne in the anime checkboard dimension

also I think Light's Magical Girl costume should become increasingly black during this arc and when L asks why he's like. "I spilled a pen on it."

it's important to note that in Show Form we see Light's POV as this happens but if I were to write a fic (which. so sad! I don't think I'll be able to) it would only follow L's POV -- one would only have hints of what was going on with Light up until the Big Reveal

maybe a flashback then? I like a big villain monologue though while L sits there thinking "damn! my one friend!"

but yeah speaking of turning this to prose... still working on my last big fic project, so not gonna happen on my own. It'd be cool to work together with someone on it but if you want to do something with this idea just make sure to send it to/tag me! (& credit, but only as much as I have here that's original -- I'm kinda hoping if I search there's already a fic of Magical Girl L because it seems like an easy idea to have lol)

oh update-edit: had the wild messed-up idea that after Light turns to the Dark Side once, L and the gang pull the most effed up move that would never be in a Magical Girl show, and erase his memory.

[fluffy-ami]

If you still doing HCs i’d like to humbly request headcannons for Hu tao and Yae Miko

A/N: YOOOOOO#+-$#@& of course I'm still writing them whenever I have time, friend! I can't even imagine how many times I'm gonna die while writing these, but anyways, I am now alive-

Yae Miko 🌸

Oh lord save me

Well, let's start with Yae as a ler (i am weak)

I think that we can all silently agree that, if she decides to tickle literally anyone, then it's just non-stop teasing-✋🏻

Ei, traveller, Gorou, Sara, literally anyone she's familiar with? Miko doesn't care who you are lmao, she will find your worst spots and you will be destroyed. But not before she's studied all the person's small reactions, the looks on their face at the mention of The Thing, so that she's sure that it doesn't make them scared or nervous in a bad sense. Once Yae makes sure that you don't mind this kind of physical contact, she strikes and after that she'll never let you live that down-

It doesn't matter who her travelling companions are, she's definitely the tickle monster in any group. You know, The Look™, the naiLSSSsss, the electro vision, it all just makes the perfect ler formula and I'm living for it

She's very laid back, both while chasing someone and while being chased, because in the end it's Yae who always decides how to end the chase, it depends on her mood if she's on the recieving end. If she trusts the person enough, she will let them catch her and have their fun for a little bit, but once they're done, Miko will retaliate immediately

“Hm? Where do you think you're going, honey? My little kitsune spirits are hungry for some adorable laughter, they're going to get you~”

But fr tho, the fact that she's electro makes it all so much worse (in a good sense). Using tiny electro shocks while tracing random shapes on your tummy with her nails... 💀

Also, that fluffy pink kitsune tail? If you're sensitive to fluffy things, it's an absolute death, and she would definitely use it to turn you into a giggly puddle-

Miko as a lee tho? She literally doesn't care on what end she's on, she will tease you back with her look and with her playful little threats until you're a blushy mess. And if she becomes “bored” and manages to get out, you better run honey, you better run as fast as you can 💀

As for her worst spots... I'd say Yae is most ticklish on her underarms and belly (ayo don't look at me i don't make the rules ok-), also I think that her fluffy fox ears are pretty ticklish. And her ankles. She just looks like she's ticklish there-

Hu Tao 👻

If the Funeral parlor director finds out you're ticklish... run for your life lol 💀

Hu Tao is definitely the type to dish out surprise tickle attacks or chase her poor victims down while teasing them playfully (“The evil spirit is gonna getcha!~”) in the process, it depends on the person she's planning to attack

Ah, yes, about that. Hu Tao tickles a lot of people. And by that I mean a lot. Zhongli, Xiao, Xiangling, Chongyun, Xingqiu, Xinyan, and Lumine/Aether are her most common victims (she also probably tried to get Qiqi at least once to find her tickle spots akhdjs-), but of course, if she starts travelling and meets new people, they better watch out bro ಠ⁠ ͜⁠ʖ⁠ ⁠ಠ"""

And you can't tell me that she doesn't ✨absolutely love✨ playing “Hide and Tickle”, and of course Tao uses her little ghost friend for the better effect! She just finds it very amusing when her friends' surprised shrieks quickly dissolve into sweet giggles once she attacks from behind <3

Also likes giving cheer-up tickles to her companions! She's very gentle while doing it, just a few giggles is enough for her, because Hu Tao doesn't want the tickles to become overwhelming.

“Awwwh, does our little grumpy pants not want to talk to others all of sudden? Alright then, let's use my special technique! Just so you know, I'll keep going until you tell me what happened~”

Worst spots? Bro, get the ✨thighs✨ bro. Like, you can't tell me they're not insanely tickish, especially the soft inner part. Also the sides of her knees (like, just sorta massage there with your fingers and she'll give you the sweetest giggles aah-💖) and maybe ribs!

She's definitely a kicker. Hu Tao doesn't squirm around all that much, but she kicks a lot to make the tickles less overwhelming! That's why going after her worst spots may result in an accidental injury to the attacker's poor beautiful face-

I think she snorts a lot when she's laughing too hard! Well, she finds it a little embarrassing, but it's actually adorable-

A/N: I guess that's all for now! Finally back to posting occasionally, so let's hope it's not the last thing I'll post in 2023 lmao 💀

Anyways, thanks for the request, and I hope you're having a great day! 🌸✨