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#you make your dash no one else dude
bubbly-af · 1 year
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I'm wondering how tumblr will react to twitter refugees this time around,will we make cringe posts again or will we welcome them?
Also sidenote for those who do stick around,please tag your shit as the full word!None of that unalive bullshit here,just say the actual word please
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mephorash · 10 months
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I am pro para as a "thoughtcrime is not real" rule but some of you guys need to chill with the positivity posts holy shit
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backwzzds · 7 months
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ೃ⁀➷ spoil you, plug!eren
eren hated when you spent your own money, but you don’t listen.
thinking about the way plug!eren would take you on his drops with him. you were so quiet and in your own world, he never minded the fact that you had your freshly white painted toes resting against the dash of his mercedes AMG coupe. the entire car was blacked out with expensive ceramic tints, protecting you both from your usual…late night activities.
your glasses rested on the cute bridge of your nose as your left leg was sat in eren’s lap while your right rested against the dashboard. eren was lucky that he fucked with most of his customers heavy…you two had been waiting for the dude to meet y’all for nearly thirty minutes now, and had it been someone else, eren would have sped away long time ago.
eren comfortingly rubbed your baby soft feet in the grasp of his tattooed hand, one with beautiful realism art of your own eye. with a turn of his head, he could see you practically nose deep in the bright screen of your phone illuminating through the car. “you growing bored mama?” his voice is concerned. “ian think we was gonna be waiting this long on dude…my bad baby.”
you hadn’t said much since you’d gotten in the car, just wanting to hurry and add all of your things to your shopping cart on the skims website. “nah, ‘m just…trying…to do somethin’ real quick,” you bite your lip as you tap away on your phone. you were trying to add as many things to your cart before it was gone. “before this shit sell out.”
eren being the nosy boy he is leans against your shoulder to see what you were doing. but the moment he’d seen you type in numbers that belonged to what he knew as your own debit card, he kissed his teeth in annoyance. “man how many times i gotta tell you to stop using your card to go shopping bae?” you roll your eyes at his words. “i’m serious, you got all three of my cards on ya phone for a reason. fuck is you typing in your info for?”
don’t get him wrong, eren loved the fact that you were independent and knew how to handle money almost perfectly now that you were in your twenties. but being together with you for so long, he continued to step up with his provider capabilities by always taking care of you. whether it was paying your bills, rent—everything in between.
but of course it was a struggle when ms. i can do it all by myself meets mr. i know you can but let me do it for you
“because i’m spending like 600 dollars,” you point out to his previous question with an obvious scoff. “i’m not asking you for that.” eren mirrors your actions and rolls his eyes again.
eren looks at you as if you’re insane and suffered memory loss for the past four years you’ve been together. “babe…i make that shit in one night. actually—fuck a night—i make that shit in two hours!”
it wasn’t like he was lying either, with the way that eren was one of the only trusted plugs in town, it was very easy that he’d bring at least a band a night on a consistent basis. selling for almost six years was finally paying off.
you two hardly ever fought, but if you did, it was always about money. eren knew how long you’ve had to do things on your own physically and financially. you couldn’t go to your mom for help, you didn’t have a dad to beg, so it was all on you since you’d been 16. but now that he had eren, he’d just wish you’d let him take the burden of money of your shoulders and take care of you the way you take care of him.
after a few minutes, your boyfriend holds his hand out. you give him crazy eyes, but eventually follow orders by putting your phone in his hand. “don’t know how many times i gotta tell yo stubborn ass, forreal,” he grunted. “‘s never a problem spoiling my baby. you don’t ever ask me for nothing. let me feel useful and get you stuff, mama.”
with a sigh, you nod your head, like you always did. there was no way eren was gonna take no for an answer when it came to spoiling his wife.
in response, eren uses his free hand to delete your information and instead place the correct numbers—the information to his amex black card. all the money he has, he sits and does nothing with it, so why not buy you all the things you’ve never had before?
when you hear the chime of your phone confirming your order, eren hands you the phone back and goes to look out his dark window.
with your acrylics, you grab eren by the neck and slowly turn him back to face you. “thanks papa,” you gave him genuine eyes.
eren leans forward and pecks your lips. with a serious face, he pecks you one more time before wrapping his tatted fingers around your neck erotically. with a look in your eyes he tells you, “always tell me what you want, no matter how much, mama. you know daddy gonna get that shit for you one way or another, regardless.”
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cipher-fresh · 8 months
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💬 suffering-academy-student Follow
does anyone else wish u could regenerate but not change and not use up a regeneration. just like do a hard reboot
#i'm gonna call myself The Sufferer
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💫 constellationon-kasterborous Follow
what is it even like to not be a time lord do you like get impaled by rebar at 45 years old and just die. couldn't be me
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🚀 silvertraveller Follow
_____👶 timelordtoddler Follow
_____playing with a roentgen radioactive brick in the nursery rn
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🔉 gallifreyballifreyshmallifrey Follow
i love this website because its the only place you can say you have interfered with the natural flow of time and you won't get investigated by the CIA
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😉 winkles-wonderland Follow
who up lording they time
#no I don’t need to add any extra tags thanks I trust my audience will find it
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👦 theresponsibilityavoider Follow
I was skipping school hanging out in a clearing and some guy exited a portal from a CONFESSION DIAL 😭 and he was like “Go to the city. Find someone important. Tell them I’m back. Tell them, they know what they did. And I’m on my way. And if they ask you who I am, tell them ‘I came the long way round’” 😭😭😭 what the hell
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💬 oneofthegreathouse Follow
if you have a fetish for people being born through bodily reproductive systems KEEP IT TO YOURSELF!!!! nobody needs to see that on their dash
__♻️ callmeweaver Follow
__Ok Puriteen you need to get on my level. sexualize looms OR ELSE!!!!!
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💫 thecurator Follow
the high council of gallifrey: got some straight gas 🔥😛 this strain is called “the timeless child” 😳 you’ll be zonked out of your gourd 💯
Me: yeah whatever. I don’t feel shit.
5 minutes later: dude I swear I just saw some pre-Hartnell doctors
My buddy the Master pacing: the Time Lords are lying to us
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🏠 somegrandolgallifrey Follow
I heard some kid crying himself to sleep in a cabin. COULD not be me
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♾️ thatacademygraduate Follow
Went to a museum today! I saw a lot of really cool stuff but something I couldn’t stop thinking about was this horrifically busted up Type 40 TARDIS that literally looked like it was held together with duct tape, chewed gum and prayers 😵‍💫😵‍💫 girl kill that thing I’m so sorry….
#i think it was even still alive. please put it out of its misery for the love of rassilon
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🥽 howsitgoinghowitgoes Follow
Bruh my best friend and I tried to play a prank on my brother but it went wrong and he hit his head so badly he REGENERATED i need to go into hiding
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😐 the-hybrid Follow
Who am I
#please for the love of god help me
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🔹 thetasigma Follow
Koschei and I skipped school today and went stargazing. We agreed to visit every single one together when we leave this stupid planet. I love them so much. We're going to be together forever.
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💭 siblingofkarn Follow
Why do I keep having nightmares about Gallifrey being destroyed in like 5 different ways, that could literally never happen
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🤖 pompousandstuffy Follow
I literally hate children soooo much like today some ninety year old tried to speak to me. KILL YOURSELF THIRTEEN TIMES ‼️
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👽 cheapandnastytraveltime Follow
For a Time Lord I have such a bad sense of time. if chamelon arches were real i would make myself literally any other species
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😍 starstartwinkletwinkle Follow
I have to stare into the untempered schism tomorrow. Any advice?
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niiine · 1 year
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𝐈𝐍 𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐀𝐋
Character(s). Xiao, Scaramouche, Kazuha x Reader (Separate, ofc). Mentions of Venti, Heizou, and Aether.
Synopsis. In which they keep on denying having feelings towards you but then becomes hella possessive and gatekeeping experts when someone shows interest.
Modern! AU, Fem! Reader (I'm so sorry for putting this so late T^T)
Fluff
Tsundere! Scara and Xiao, as usual, and Shy Kazu bebi.
NOT PROOFREAD, please don’t expect.
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Xiao
He’s just tolerating you.
Or so he says. But Aether always finds it amusing how you can pester XIAO from time to time and get out of it with just a sigh from the golden eyed lad.
Like today, for example.
- As an introvert, powernap at the university’s roof top is like a holy grail for Xiao. He treasures it so much that the moment the bell signifies lunch, he’ll dash out of the room in a heartbeat. His friends know better than to disturb him else they receive some icy words. But somehow, much to Venti’s amusement, Xiao let you crash his solace and talk his ears out on days that you feel like doing so. Pretty privileges. Venti thought, before gushing it out with their friend group.
Heizou tried to make him confess that he is head over heels for you. He just finds it so funny how Xiao keeps denying his very obvious crush on you. Come on, he’s pretty sure that he’s not the only one who notice how Xiao’s sharp eyes keeps drifting back to you every time.
“You don’t look at me like how you look at her!”
“No. It’s just that it hurts my eyes when I see you.”
It’s the talk of the group for like a week. How they would see Xiao being such a gentleman when you’re in the room, his patience longer than they’ve ever seen, and more.
“Just admit it lover boy. You simp for (name)” Scaramouche pointed out. A sinister thought playing in his mind.
-  “I told you, I don’t. She’s just much tolerable than the rest of our classmates” The questioned man rolled his eyes, not entertaining the idea because even if he does, he’s a hundred and ten percent sure that you’re not in love with him. “Well, if that’s true, I guess you wouldn’t mind if I go after her?” the indigo haired man piped, only to be met by daggers sent through Xiao’s eyes. Eerie silence filled the room until Scara raised his hands in the air, satisfied smirk decorating his lips, “I’m kidding.” (Much like what he had done in this one.)
“Thought so.”
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Scaramouche
This man is so obvious it hurts.
And also, he’s extra mean to you. He wants your attention babe, believe me.
“Hah! I can do that better. You suck.”, “What? Speechless because you’re so in love with me?”
No, it’s the other way around and SCARAMOUCHE KNOWS IT.
But like, you don’t believe his attitude towards you because his actions say otherwise.
- “You’re an idiot. Acting so high and mighty while being pathetically weak.” And then he proceeds to help you pick up the books that have fallen from your grasp and took the remaining ones on your arms to carry it himself.
- “Heh. You think he’s gonna like you back by helping him out? No way you’re uglyyy” “I don’t like him idiot. I have to do this, so he’ll pay me nice and good” you rolled your eyes and he sighs in relief.
He’s actually pretty close to you since you’re friends since middle school.
Venti and Heizou will call the two of you an old married couple because of the continues bickering. Of which Scara will return with disgusted look because no, He can’t have it get to him because he will lose you if he does.
But his friends know otherwise. They notice how careful the man when it comes to you, how observant he is when you’re involved, etc. And besides, Venti just feels it.
And Venti turns out right (again) when their group passed by two students who are obviously gushing over you and one of them spot Scara.
- “Just confess to (name)! You wouldn’t know until you try.” One of them says, and Scara’s ears perked up at the sound of your name. “But aren’t they like with that scary dude?” cue Venti and Heizou snickering in the background. This resulted to the two met gazes with them. Their knees tremble at the sight of your bestfriend. His usually playful eyes now dark and looming—and it’s directed at them.
“Yes,” he started menacing look present in his lovely, porcelain face. “they’re taken by the scary dude.”
The two ended up running and Venti and Heizou needs to be intervened by Aether for them to stop laughing.
“Hey scary dude. I thought you didn’t like her?” Venti teased, and Aether just sighed.
“Shut up”
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Kaedehara Kazuha
This man is a gentleman you wouldn’t notice anything if you’re not as observant as Heizou.
He smiles so gentle with anyone, he talks with utmost respect, this guy right here is the epitome of prim and proper.
“But he’s always giddy when he’s talking to them” Heizou pointed out to Venti one day, to which the latter ended up agreeing to. Because now that he mentions it, Kazuha really seems so excited talking to you.
His eyes literally sparkles when you’re in the room, and his smiles are wider and brighter than usual when talking to you.
And in addition to that, KAEDEHARA KAZUHA always go out of his way for you.
- “Kazuha?” The man turns to you, a tender smile immediately making its way to decorate his face, “Yes, (name)?”. “I made a (a dish with gourd in it). Would you like some?” And oh, the man will munch on it like it’s his most favorite thing on the whole Teyvat, only it’s not. He hates bitter gourd. But to make you happy? Give it all to him and he’ll eat it with the sweetest smile.
The lad also does everything in his capability to be near you. You need something from the cafeteria? He needs to buy something as well. You suck at this one subject? He’ll offer to teach you. You accidentally have no partner in light stretching for P.E? He, too!
But it seems like this fact hits Venti and Heizou earlier than him, as they can also see clear signs that Kazuha is not aware of his own feelings.
That’s why they took it to their own hands. They must help their friend in need you know! So, they did the most obvious thing one should do,
They asked him.
- “Zuhaa,” Venti piped in as Heizou placed his arms around Kazuha’s shoulder. “We’re wondering, do you perhaps fancy (name)?”. They received a soft chuckle from the lad. A very composed answer left his lips. “(Name) is certainly beautiful and wonderful individual,” he smiles and cleared his throat. Bashful and shy from his words, “But I am afraid I have to say no to you question.” The other two expected this. ALL their friends are like this, Kazuha is not the first one, so they know what to do. “Ohh That’s great!” Venti exclaimed, as if excited at the new found information before turning to Heizou, “You can pursue them then!”
Kazuha’s heart almost stopped at his friends’ words, so Heizou like you? Of course, he does. You’re beautiful and kind and gentle, and more. It’s only natural to like you. But he wants you! And words left his lips before he can keep it shut.
“No, they’re mine!”
Awe, the usually composed and collected Kazuha now red and ashamed of what he has done. The back of his hand failing miserably at trying to hide the red hue that painted his face down to his neck.
The other two looked at the outburst of their friend before erupting into laughter.
“Not if you don’t confess soon enough” Heizou said in between laughs and Kazuha sent him a sharp look. Face still beet red.
“Don’t do that again” he warned the other two, now caught up on their antics.
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woo-wahhhh · 2 months
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[ too much energy ] "kaji..."
"what?!"
"did you seriously just walk into my shop, before class, and already injured?" you scowled back, rolling your eyes as you regarded his relaxed figure in the doorway. a part of you marvelled how he looked perturbed by your disbelief than he was of the blood freshly running down his arm. "you have way too much energy this early in the morning, dude."
"look, clown me all you want, but let's get one thing straight," he grit out. he jabbed a finger vindictively at you, followed by the insanely loud clacking of his stupid lollipop against his teeth. "i didn't get into a fight."
"colour me impressed," you couldn't help but quip sarcastically, though you motioned him to come closer to where you were rummaging under the counter. you were grateful that being so early, no one had come into buy flowers yet, since it would be a bit of a jump scare to find a man bleeding out.
"shut up," he hissed, glaring perpetually while he took a seat behind your counter, and sticking his arm out. it was amusing, how someone could look annoyed yet so charming in the same action. you almost wanted to comment on the his childish appearance, but you had a feeling he'd slap his headphones on and dash out if you did.
"well?" you prompted, pulling out a first aid kit and setting it on the counter. "what happened to your arm then?"
you could feel his hawkish gaze trail after your every move, scrutinizing each action with such intensity, you couldn't tell if he was pissed off or if he was under an enchantment.
"that granny lost her cat again," kaji said simply.
this boy, you cursed internally as you pulled out disinfectant and bandages. "and?"
"what do you think happened?" he scowled, canines flashing as he grit his teeth at the sting of the ointment. "it fucking scratched me when i caught it." he shook his fringe out of the way, perhaps to properly express his annoyance.
"you look much more handsome when you're angry," you blurted out, reaching up to push his hair back without thinking too much– after all, he was your boyfriend. but more importantly, it was much to his incredibly visible chagrin– by habit, he flinched, automatically trying to grab at his headphones, but he couldn't shake off your grip on his arm, leaving him to clutch one side like a damsel in distress, eyes wide and horrified.
but he calmed down quickly enough when you didn't pay him mind, too accustomed to his shenanigans, humming lightly as you focused on the bandages and keeping the heat from dancing up your spine. there was a simmering tension between you; unspoken, though his eyes were dead set on your nimble movements, the distinct weight of his gaze telling you he wouldn't look away, or more properly, he couldn't.
once you finally looked up from your finished work, you noted his eyebrows were knit together, the permanent glare on his face still written in stone, but his tone was somehow gentler than he let on. "look me in the eyes if you're gonna say stuff like that."
silence ensued, of course, your eyebrows quirking up as the obvious dangled from your tongue.
"kaji, you just looked like you were about to bolt outta here,"
"well, yeah, how else am i supposed to act when you say that?"
"i- i don't know," you stammered, suddenly hyperaware of how he wasn't looking away, how his eyes were practically tracing over every contour of your face with the intensity that could burn. "maybe- maybe act a bit more touched?"
"touched?" he echoed, a bit of incredulous sneer in his voice as he hopped off his seat. the abruptness of it all startled you as your back unwittingly hit the counter, and before you could make your own grand escape, he placed an arm on each side of you, effectively caging you in.
the sudden change up from the incredibly flustered kaji to this steamrolling behaviour made your head spin as you gaze up at him with wide eyes that were only met with a grey, smouldering gaze with the intensity of a storm.
"here," kaji swiftly popped out the lollipop from his mouth, holding it to you. you hesitantly took it from his hand, the question of "what the hell, dude?" bubbling at your lips when without a warning, he grabbed your face and kissed you.
short and sweet, but somehow still awfully fierce for that early in the day– you expected nothing less from ren kaji.
"now what was about?" you giggled as you pulled back, dotingly reaching up to smear your lip gloss onto his chapped lips. an act of giving and receiving, one could even say, since he'd left you with the sickeningly sweet taste of caramel on your tongue. "do you like it when i call you handsome?" you teasingly chimed.
"shut up," kaji grumbled once again, pushing his hair back and pressing his forehead against yours. "you looked cute and i just felt like it, that's all." maybe to someone else, that wasn't a fulfilling response, but you knew how straightforward kaji was, and that he wouldn't lie about something like that.
"well, if you're feeling like it then," you whispered, your lips bumping into his as you spoke, "you should kiss me again."
"demanding," kaji huffed out, though he hoisted you up onto the counter anyways without breaking a sweat, a small, but cocky smile on his face when you grabbed onto his shoulders for dear life.
"oh my god, at least warn me!" you complained. maybe you really should have kept an eye on the door, but with his figure before you, and slotted between your legs and the his hand gently coaxing you forward by the nape of your neck, it was hard to care.
"you have way too much energy to yap in the morning," he chided indignantly, but the way he was already leaning up suggested otherwise.
"hey, you're the one who–!"
"morning, (name)! did kaji already pop by– oh,"
"w-w-we'll just– uh– s-see you at school, k-kaji!?" enomoto managed to croak out before they both scurried away with mildly red faces, reminding you less of the teenage gang members they were and more of children.
you almost fell off the counter, had it not been for kaji's reflexes, but the damage had been done, and the lollipop he'd entrusted you with fell to the floor with a dull thud as enomoto and kusumi blinked at the two of you with horrified expressions.
"hey boys," you greeted casually with a wave.
"oh my, we've made a scandal, darling," you joked– regrettably, or so you thought later in the day when the rest of the tamon team's second years started cooing at at poor kaji. perhaps it was a lesson to not be so energetic in the mornings from then on.
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munson-blurbs · 1 year
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Everybody Talks (Best Friend!Eddie x Fem!Reader)
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Summary: You've worked hard to keep your crush on your best friend a secret, since he doesn't feel the same way. But when the Hellfire Club members open their big mouths, it threatens everything you've tried to hold together.
Warnings: some angst, fluff, mentions of financial insecurity
WC: 1.5k
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“Pizza’s here!” you call out, carrying a stack of pies into the Wheeler house. “I got one pepperoni, one mushroom, and one plain for all the boring people,” you tease, looking directly at Eddie as you say it.
“I prefer classic,” he retorts, taking the boxes from your hands and setting them on the table. The rest of the guys start to crowd around him, paper plates in hand, practically drooling at just the sight of food. “Hey, hey,” he chastises, pushing them out of the way, “ladies first.” He offers you a plate and you take a slice, quickly moving aside before you’re trampled by the herd of hungry teenage boys.
“So,” Gareth says to Eddie between bites, “your last Hellfire campaign is over and done with. How’s it feel?”
“You wish,” Eddie scoffs, plopping down next to you on the sofa. “Just because I’m graduating doesn’t mean I’m done kicking your asses in D&D.” He chugs his plastic cup filled with Mountain Dew and wipes his lips with the back of his hand. “Anyone else want a refill?” he asks, shaking his empty cup before looking over at you. “Oh, shit; you don’t have anything to drink. Diet Coke, right?” Before you can protest that you can get it yourself, he’s up and pouring you a glass.
“Thanks,” you smile, taking a sip. The bubbles fizz on your tongue as you lean back, careful not to get too close to Eddie. Not that you don’t want to; the mere thought of him draping his tattooed arm around your shoulders makes you giddy. 
Just a few more months, you think to yourself, and I’ll be off at college, meeting new people, and I won’t have to worry about my embarrassing crush on my best friend.
“You guys ready for prom tomorrow?” Mike asks, interrupting your pity party.
Jeff nods. “Just gotta pick up a corsage for Barb, and she’s getting me a, um, a…”
“Boutonniere?” you fill in helpfully, and he snaps his fingers and replies, “yeah, that thing.”
“What about you?” Lucas pipes up, turning to Eddie. “You ever decide who to ask?”
“Oh, he decided,” Jeff laughs, earning a scowl from his friend. “Too bad she decided to go with Jason Carver.”
Dustin throws his hands up in exasperation. “Dude, you’re still hung up on Chrissy Cunningham?” He rolls his eyes. “I told you; she’s sweet, but she’s not your type. You need someone who’s as nerdy as you are.” His eyes scan the room. “You know, like Y/N.”
You feel your cheeks burn with humiliation, not at Dustin calling you a nerd; you know he means that with utmost affection. It’s not even the idea of Eddie asking you out that has you nervous; it’s the prospect of him laughing at the thought. You’ve done a great job hiding your puppy love a secret from him, and you’d like to keep it that way.
“Ha!” Gareth barks out. “She wishes!”
No. No no no.
Tears spring to your eyes, and you can’t think of a decent excuse to leave before you’re dashing through the door, letting the screen slam behind you. There’s no lie in what Gareth said; you do wish Eddie had asked you to prom. Every time that the subject of the dance came up, you’d waited with baited breath to see if he’d say something to you. But he’d always ignore it, eager to move on to the next topic. And now you knew why: he wanted to take Chrissy, but she was in love with someone else. How ironic.
You’re almost at your car when you hear the squeak of the front door opening. “Sweetheart, wait!” Eddie shouts, probably a bit too loud for the short distance between you two. “I’m so sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize,” you tell him softly as he jogs over to where you’re leaning against the passenger side door. “‘S not your fault.”
“Kinda is,” he shrugs, bringing you to the front steps and motioning for you to sit next to him. “I mean, I was the one who went to a freshman for romantic advice. That’s the last time I do that; I don’t care how nauseatingly cute he and his singing girlfriend are.” He gives a small chuckle, but neither of you meet the other’s gaze.
Hold on. Freshman? Singing girlfriend? “Eddie, what are you talking about?”
Eddie stops gnawing on his lower lip long enough to answer you. “I’m talking about you being embarrassed by Henderson’s painfully obvious last-ditch effort to get me to man up and finally ask you out.” His brows furrow when he sees your similarly confused expression. “That’s not…what are you upset about?”
“Um, Gareth blabbing to everyone that I wanted you to ask me to prom?” You finally allow yourself to look at him, noticing the dejected look on his face. 
“I couldn’t do that,” he mutters, resting his palm sideways over his mouth and shifting his body away from yours. His words come out all muffled, but you can still make out what they are.
“I wouldn’t have said no to you,” you reassure him, mustering up all of your courage to place your hand on his bouncing knee. He relaxes almost immediately, but he still seems sad. “Eds, what’s wrong?”
His eyes are misty when he turns back to you. “I couldn’t ask you to prom because…because I couldn’t afford it,” he confesses, twisting his skull ring around his finger anxiously. “The tickets, a tux, those fancy wrist things…best I could do is steal some flowers from Mrs. Wheeler’s garden.” He hums out a sad laugh. “‘M sorry, sweetheart. I wanted to take you, but I knew I’d just be letting you down.”
“But Jeff said you were going to ask Chrissy,” you point out.
Eddie shrugs. “Don’t get me wrong; Chrissy’s nice and everything, but I just said that so he’d get off my back. Because if I told him the truth, he wouldn’t shut up until I made a move.” He sighs. “His dad’s a lawyer, and his mom runs her own business. He doesn’t understand what it’s like to worry about having enough food in the house, let alone all the extra shit like prom.”
You’re quiet for a beat, letting everything sink in. You knew Eddie lived in Forest Hills Trailer Park, and you knew money was often tight. Wayne worked hard to keep a roof over their heads, but the plant didn’t pay nearly enough. There were many occasions where you’d spotted Eddie eyeing something in the grocery store and instinctively thrown it in your cart for him, but for some reason, it hadn’t even occurred to you that finances was the reason he’d avoided talking about the prom.
“I wish you’d told me,” you finally say. “I would’ve understood.”
“Yeah, I know.” Eddie rubs his nose against his hand, another nervous tic of his. “That was never the problem. You’re the most understanding fuckin’ person I know. You just…I dunno. You deserve the whole ‘prom’ experience, not whatever half-ass version I could offer you.”
At that, you can’t help but giggle. “Eddie,” you begin, “do you really think I wanted to go to prom so I could wear a fancy dress and uncomfortable shoes in a stuffy gym? I just wanted to dance with you, and then spend the night on your couch watching stupid movies and eating junk food and talking shit about everyone who was there.” You look deep into his chocolate brown eyes, nearly losing yourself in their beauty. “I just wanted to be with you.”
Eddie stares at you, gaze traveling down to your lips. “Can I kiss you?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper.
“If you don’t, I’ll kiss you.” 
Your mouths crash together clumsily, but you’re too happy to care. You soak in every part of it: Eddie’s stubble rubbing against your chin, the way he tastes like stale cigarettes and marinara sauce, his curls brushing your cheeks. He only breaks the kiss to take a breath, and then he’s back, more purposeful in his movements the second time around. He brings his hand to your jawline, caressing it gingerly with his thumb as he parts your lips with his.
“Can’t believe I just did that,” he muses, smiling at you shyly. “Been wanting to kiss you for too goddamn long.” He leans in, frowning when you place your hand on his chest to stop him. “What?”
“You gotta take me on a date before you kiss me again,” you inform him, lacing your fingers through his. “When are you free?”
“Uh, right now? We can grab ice cream at Scoops. Lemme just get my keys.” He stands up quickly to head back towards the house.
“Wait, Eddie,” you call out to him, “what about the guys? And pizza night?”
“Who cares? I have a date with the most beautiful girl in Hawkins.”
--
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raaorqtpbpdy · 3 months
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God Only Knows
Everyone knows AU, but Wes doesn't know that everyone knows, and neither does Danny, because even though everyone knows, everyone also knows better than to acknowledge it.
For the prompts:
Everyone knows the connection between Danny Fenton and Phantom. To keep their town's hero safe, everyone pretends to be oblivious. Only this one kid doesn't seem to have gotten the memo. [From @vigilant-insomniac], and It's like Santa, the students of Casper High think. You know he's fake, just your parents playing pretend, and if Danny wants to play human, well. Who are they to ruin the fantasy? [From @uniasus]
This is a take on Wes I've never written before, despite having written quite a few Wes fics, and it was a lot of fun, I hope you like it : )
Read also on AO3
[Warnings for mentioned injuries, threats, and implied bullying]
Danny Fenton was dead. Everyone knew that.
After an accident in his parents' lab, he'd been rushed to the hospital and declared dead on arrival. He had an obituary in the paper, a grave. His death had even been announced over Casper High's PA system, and there had been a moment of silence, and all the science classes had done lessons on lab safety so that what had happened to him might not happen to anyone else.
Then, a couple weeks later, Danny Fenton was back at school like nothing had happened. Hanging out with his loser friends, going to classes, eating at Nasty Burger. Like he was still a regular kid. Except that beakers slipped through his fingers, and he kept walking through vending machines, and falling through the floor. Sometimes all or part of him would turn invisible, or he'd start floating a few inches off the floor and his friends had to pull him back down to earth.
Every time, he would look around in a panic, like he was hoping no one saw, and every time, those who had seen pretended they hadn't. It was Santa Claus, the Casper students reasoned. You knew he was fake, just your parents playing pretend, but it made them happy when you pretended with them. If Danny wanted to play human, well... who were they to ruin the fantasy.
Besides, no one wanted to be the one to remind him that he'd died.
Then the school was attacked by a ghost, and another ghost appeared to stop her. It was the ghost of a 14-year-old boy, wearing a Fenton Works jumpsuit. There was no mistaking that Danny Fenton, the dead kid attending their school, was also the dead kid protecting it.
But after a couple of days, it was clear that Danny himself still thought it was a secret, so everyone else silently agreed to let him keep thinking that. He'd been through a lot, and they didn't need to make it harder on him. Even Dash never brought it up—and he kept bullying Danny, for being week and unpopular, just to keep up the illusion that nothing had changed.
When out-of-towners started poking around, asking questions, everyone kept the secret. The strangers were clearly ill-intentioned, wanting to capture Danny for some reward. Even if he was deluding himself about still being alive, Danny was a good kid who protected the town. The least the locals could do as thanks was act oblivious to keep him safe. They were used to pretending, anyway.
Except this one kid didn't seem to have gotten the memo.
"Uh, yeah, I have some information on the ghost!" Wes called out to the Guys in White nosing around their school.
Kwan grabbed him, covering his mouth and dragging him around the corner before the Guys in White could see who'd called out to them. He felt something slimy on the palm of his hand and let go of Wes with a noise of disgust.
"What the hell!" Wes demanded.
"Did you just lick me?" Kwan asked, wiping his hand off on his jeans. "Gross!"
"Dude, you dragged me down the hallway! What gives."
"You were gonna spill to the Guys in White. You can't do that!"
"Just 'cause no one around here believes me, I'm just supposed to give up?" Wes frowned, crossing his skinny, freckled arms over his chest. "Somebody has to know that Danny Fenton is Danny Phantom, I mean come on, it's obvious!"
"But if you tell the Guys in White, even if they don't believe you, they'll investigate him, and who knows what they'll do," Kwan pointed out. "Hasn't Danny been through enough? I mean," Kwan glanced around and lowered his voice before adding, "he died. Do you really want to make things harder on him after that? Don't you think he deserves a break?"
"Exactly," Wes hissed. "He died. He's a ghost. Ghosts are bad—and why are we whispering?" he added at a normal volume.
"You know that's not true," Kwan argued, keeping his voice low, despite Wes' complaint. "Phantom protects us."
"From ghosts that come through a portal he opened!"
Kwan flinched. Saying Danny had opened the portal was kind of misrepresenting the reality of the situation. Sam and Tucker had reluctantly told the story of Danny's death in the weeks he was gone, and it had been spread around pretty thoroughly before he came back. Everyone at school knew that he'd stepped into that portal and been completely fried. The portal turning on wasn't the part most people focused on when it was always immediately followed by 'while Danny was inside it'.
"I don't think you can blame him for that," Kwan said. "It was an accident."
"One that has yet to be corrected," Wes replied, his anger not fading. "Him fighting the ghosts doesn't stop them from attacking. If he really wanted to protect the town, he'd destroy the portal and stay in the Ghost Zone."
"What about the Fentons?"
"Who cares if the Fentons lose their precious portal when it's endangering thousands of lives!?"
"And you don't care if they lose their son, either?" Kwan demanded.
"So you do believe me!"
"You're a dick, Weston." He'd never called anyone a dick before in his life, but it seemed to apply here. "I don't care what you think, but if you try to hawk your theories on any of the ghost hunters around town, I'll make you regret it, and I'll bring friends, too. I've got a lot of them."
To drive home his point, Kwan shoved Wes against the lockers and glared before walking away. Gosh, that was so aggressive. Kwan hoped it had been okay. He didn't like doing it—he didn't even know if his face could hold that expression long enough to intimidate anyone—but if it kept Danny safe, that was what mattered.
At least Dash would probably be proud of him for it. Dash was always saying he needed to be more assertive to people couldn't push him around. Metaphorically, of course. Literally, Kwan was six feet tall and 190 pounds, even as a freshman, so there weren't many people who could physically push him around as it was. He didn't join the football team for no reason.
Thankfully, it did seem to work. Kwan had his friends—and he did indeed have a lot of friends, since he was a very friendly and likable guy—keep an eye on Wes until the outside ghost hunters declared the hunt a bust and skipped town. He didn't know whether Wes had noticed or not, but either way, he hadn't tried to expose Danny to them again.
Too bad that didn't last. A few weeks later, Wes went directly to the Fentons.
"No one else will believe me, but your son is a ghost!" Wes told them. "He's Danny Phantom!"
Jack and Maddie both froze. They knew.
They knew, and they had both agreed to pretend they didn't. They shot at Phantom, always aiming a mile wide, and shouted threats, and loudly declared their hatred for ghosts. They knew how it made Danny feel, but they also knew he still loved them. They were willing to do whatever it took to keep their son around, and they feared that if he were ever to tell them he was a ghost, it would be because he was moving on and they'd never see him again.
"Why... that's ridiculous, my boy!" Jack declared, a slight waver in his booming voice. "Our son can't be a ghost!"
"But it's true!" Wes insisted.
"Don't be silly!" Maddie cut him off before he could start listing evidence. She knew all the evidence. "I think we'd know if there was a ghost living under our own roof."
"But—"
"You should keep your utterly ridiculous theories to yourself, because you sound absurd," Maddie said. "Now, if you don't mind, my husband and I have very important ghost hunting to get to. Don't you have homework to do or something?"
Wes growled and clenched his fists in frustration but left them alone nonetheless. Clearly, he wasn't getting anywhere with him. And he wasn't getting anywhere at school, to the point where Danny had stopped getting anxious and had started openly antagonizing him about it. Didn't anyone else in Amity Park have eyes, he wondered.
But in truth, he was the one not seeing, because he didn't see that everyone else was on the same page about Danny being a ghost, and he was the one being left behind.
"Hey, Wes-toenail!"
Wes rolled his eyes as Dash stormed up to him with a disappointed-looking Kwan in tow.
"Jazz Fenton told Sam Manson, who told Kwan, who told me, that you tried to tell Fenton's parents about your stupid conspiracy theory!" Dash sneered at him.
"It's not a conspiracy theory," Wes said. "There would have to be more than just one person involved for it to be a conspiracy theory. A conspiracy theory would be like if I claimed everyone in town was working together to hide the fact that Fenton is Phantom," he was too busy rolling his eyes again to notice the look Kwan and Dash gave each other, "but you're not, you're all just a bunch of sheep."
"And you're a... a..." Dash struggled, grasping around his thick head for a comeback.
"A blackberry bramble!" Kwan finished for him.
"A blackberry bramble!" Dash repeated firmly, then turned to Kwan with a confused look. "A blackberry bramble?" he repeated again, this time questioningly.
"Prickly, invasive, and impossible to get rid of," Kwan explained. "Sam and I also talked about her garden."
"Oh, that's nice," Dash then turned back to Wes, hardened his expression and said. "You're like a blackberry bramble, and no one wants you around."
Wes raised an eyebrow and shook his head. "Why do you even care? I thought you hated Fenton."
"Yeah, but that doesn't mean I want him dead again," Dash pointed out. "His parents are ghost hunters, and they're always shooting at Phantom. What do you think they might do to Danny if they actually believed your bullshit theory?"
"Get rid of him! Because he's a ghost! You know, the creatures constantly attacking our town and putting us all in danger?"
"The fact that you actually seem to believe that is why nobody at school likes you," Dash told him plainly. "That, and your general annoyingness."
"Why do you all care so much about protecting a loser like Danny Fenton?!" Wes shouted, loudly enough that it attracted the attention of everyone else in the hallway not already listening, and he threw his hands in the air in exasperation. "So he died, so what? It's the fact that he's still around that's the problem. Everyone seems to agree that they want ghosts gone until I bring up Phantom. A ghost is a ghost is a ghost, and all ghosts are dangerous, even the quote-unquote 'good ones.'"
He was breathing heavily when he finished his outburst, and suddenly aware of at least a dozen sets of eyes on him.
"That's enough, Wes," Kwan said after a beat. "Danny hasn't done anything to you, or anyone, and it's not fair for you to keep doing this, trying to expose him or... or whatever it is you're trying to do. You'd better cut it out. If this is a joke, no one's laughing, and if you're serious, then you're trying to take a real person away from his friends and family because of your own biases, and that's messed up, dude."
"Yeah!" someone down the hallway piped up. Micah, Wes thought her name was. She'd spit on his shoes when he tried to convince her of his theory.
"Enough is enough!" her friend agreed.
"You lay off Danny, he's already been through it this year already!"
Soon enough, every student in the hallway was chiming in their agreement, and Wes scanned the crowd, mouth agape, offended and outraged. When he turned back to Dash and Kwan, they both wore hard expressions. It looked weird on Kwan's usually jovial face, but it was clear they meant business.
"Whatever," Wes grumbled. He grabbed his math book out of his locker and slammed the door shut with a metallic bang. "You've made your point. I'll stop."
"Will you actually?" Dash insisted, raising a skeptical brow. "Or are you just saying that to get us off your back?"
"I will," Wes confirmed. "I don't need the entire football team and then some making my life a living hell. As long as Fenton keeps his distance from me, I'll do the same for him."
The warning was passed from Kwan, to Sam, to Danny, and in short order, Danny and Wes started avoiding each other. They barely so much as crossed paths anymore. Wes, begrudgingly, stopped trying to expose Danny, and Danny stopped teasing him for his failures, and it finally seemed like Amity Park's ghostly hero could go on protecting the town in peace.
But things weren't always what they seemed, and one day, there was a fight. At first, it seemed like a standard ghost fight, Danny Phantom versus some vampire-looking asshole.
Based on the banter, it sounded like this wasn't their first encounter with each other, so the civilians of Amity Park tried their best to stay out of the way and let Danny do his thing. Parents calling their kids inside, the group of teens passing by ducked into the alley, the one riding the opposite way on his skateboard crossed the street to hide with them, safety in numbers and all that.
Then the tide of battle turned, and all of the sudden, Danny was losing, badly. The enemy ghost had started coming at him with powerful blasts that broke through his defenses and left him reeling. Danny howled as he hit the street, hard, and in a flash of white light, his appearance changed from hero to dweeb, and regular old Danny Fenton laid unconscious in the road.
"You can never truly best me, Daniel," the enemy ghost said, but he didn't have time to monologue.
The teens in the alleyway had a plan, and they were coming to the rescue.
Sam Manson somersaulted into the street, Fenton Wrist Ray™ already armed and at the ready, and she laid down cover fire at the enemy ghost while Dash and Kwan ran out to grab Danny and drag him to the alleyway where they'd been taking cover.
"Guess you can't tell me I'm crazy now," Wes said, smirking triumphantly as the two jocks put Danny down gently on the ground, propping his head up on Paulina's folded up jacket. "We all saw him turn into Fenton, that's proof."
"Will you shut up, Wes?" Paulina snapped while Star checked Danny over, trying to assess his injuries. "We knew that already."
"What do you mean you knew?"
"Everyone knew, the whole time," Paulina reiterated with a derogatory scowl. "It's like, super obvious."
"Then why did you all treat me like I was crazy?" Wes demanded.
"Because you are," Star said. "Not 'cause you think he's a ghost—because, like, duh—but 'cause you kept trying to tell everyone. Some things should stay secret you moron."
"Why you even wanted to constantly remind the dead kid that he's dead, I'll never know," Paulina added.
"Plus, you constantly trying to expose him was putting him in danger," Kwan said. "Phantom is a hero, and you were trying to get him killed."
"He's already dead!"
"Yeah, we know," Sam jeered at him as she returned to their cover. "Everyone knows. But you're the only person in the whole town who's being a dick about it!"
"Hey, that's the same thing I told him a couple months ago!" Kwan told her, delighted. "I never called someone a dick before, but I did, 'cause he was being one."
"Good job calling him out, Kwan," Sam said, sounding genuinely satisfied. "It's good to hear that you're being more assertive and standing up for yourself and others."
"That's what I said, too!" Dash noted. "God, it's so weird that I actually agree with you on stuff now."
"Can we get back to the fact that you guys all knew the whole time that Fenton was a ghost and nobody thought to clue me in?" Wes said, looking around at the rest of them incredulously.
"Clue you in the Danny was a ghost?" Sam asked sardonically. "I thought you knew."
"No, that it was apparently common knowledge and you all just felt like making a fool out of me!"
"You wouldn't have looked like a fool if you'd just kept your fool mouth shut," Paulina pointed out.
"You—"
Wes was cut off when Danny groaned into wakefulness and everyone's attention instantly snapped to the ghost boy.
"Mn... ugh," Danny took a shaky breath and blinked his eyes open, quickly widening in shock when he realized how many people were leaning over him. "Uh... hello, citizens," he said, putting on a voice in the hopes they wouldn't recognize them. "Please, step back and stay away from the—"
"Danny," Sam said, "You changed."
"Huh?" He looked down at his hand and gasped. "I mean, I have an explanation for this. I was uh... being overshadowed?"
"It's okay, dude," Kwan told him. "We're not going to tell anyone. This'll be our little secret. Right, Wes?"
They all looked pointedly at the redhead, who opened his mouth to protest, and closed it again, his shoulders slumping in defeat.
"Yeah, okay," he relented, though his left eyebrow was nevertheless twitching in irritation. "Our secret."
"We just wanted to get you out of the line of fire before Plasmius took things too far," Sam told him. "You know I've always got your back."
"Thanks," Danny said. "All of you."
They gave him their smiles and their 'you're welcome's while Wes griped and grumbled and left the alleyway with his bike to finish riding home. Plasmius had flown off shortly after Sam started shooting at him. He was content in his victory over Phantom, and didn't feel the need to fight a powerless child like her, so the coast was clear for the rest of them to leave as well.
Sam said goodbye to Kwan so she could walk Danny home while the rest of them resumed their walk to the mall. Sam had been planning to split off before they got their anyway, she was just taking the opportunity to chat with them—mostly Kwan, whom she'd accidentally befriended during Danny's brief stint of popularity earlier in the year (his 'goth' poetry was awful, but they'd bonded over gardening and a love of animals)—since her house was on the way.
"You gonna be okay, Danny?" she asked, as they walked arm in arm so she could catch him if he stumbled. "You don't have a concussion, do you?"
"Maybe?" Danny said, squinting uncertainly. He shrugged. "I'll be fine. I always am. I'm still just amazed how lucky it was that the A-listers and Wes, of all people, were willing to keep my secret. It's gonna be all over the school, tomorrow, isn't it?"
"Oh, I don't know," Sam said vaguely. "Kwan's a decent guy, at least. I'm pretty sure they'll keep their word."
Danny scoffed in disbelief, but didn't voice an argument. The rest of the way to Fenton Works, the chattered about whatever topics came to mind, just to keep Danny from falling asleep in case he did have a concussion, and when Sam dropped him off at home, she held off her mournful expression until she had turned away so Danny didn't have to see it.
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lighteyed · 11 months
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like you'd get your knuckles bloody for me / steve harrington
— steve's not used to people throwing punches for him, you'er not used to throwing them. anything for him, though. always, anything for him. (little short fic moment, fem reader, 1.4k words)
"Dude, your girlfriend is such a badass!" Robin skips into Family Video grinning like a madwoman. Steve, shuffling through the tapes he needs to place back onto the shelves, lifts his head and scrunches his brows together.
"I mean, yeah, but-"
Robin doesn't let him finish, she's already telling him the story. "She was all, wham bam thank you ma'am," she throws multiple air punches and Steve drops the tapes on the floor, "and Jason Carver was all, 'my nose you broke my nose-" she puts on a fake-whiney voice and Steve grips the shelf in front of him, feeling faint.
"I'm sorry, she did what-"
"And she was all, fuck you Carver, and she was totally gonna pummel him again until his friend like dragged her off him and her face hit the pavement, but like, still, she kicked ass-"
"Robin!" Steve shouts, waving his hands in front of her face. She stops, finally registering the disbelief on his face. She covers her mouth. She probably shouldn't have said anything. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"She, um, she didn't tell you?" She squeaks out, she takes a step backwards. "Forget I said anything! I'm sure she'll call you-" She trips over the cart Steve was using to stock the tapes and dashes behind the counter to avoid him, knowing you were going to kill her for saying anything and Steve was going to kill her if she didn't say anything else.
"Hey! Robin!" But she's already clocking herself in and beginning her closing shift duties, refusing to say another word on the topic because she's already said too much without meaning to. He completes the rest of his shift in silence, snapping at customers whenever they ask him a question and losing his mind when he looks at the clock and realizes only ten minutes has passed. He tries to call your house with the store phone but you don't pick up, which makes him even more worried and causes him to snap at people even worse, so Keith cuts him early with a disappointed lecture that Steve only half listens to, and he runs out of there once Keith finally shuts up, pulling out of the parking lot and on his way to your house without a second thought.
When you answer the door for him, you brace yourself for his scolding, 'cause the way he's looking at you, at your scratched face and bloody knuckles, with his soft gaze roaming all over you for any other signs of injury, you can tell he wants to. He wants to scold and lecture and fret. He wants to be mad that you got into a fist fight, let alone a fist fight with a guy who, if he had wanted to, probably could've hit you ten times harder.
He can't really be mad, though. "I didn't know Rocky Balboa was visiting Hawkins," he says, sarcastic but not mean, closing the front door behind him before coming to touch your face with his gentle hands, tilting your head to the side so he can take a good look at your cheek. It's a not a deep scratch, but you're bleeding all the same. He runs his fingers over it lightly and rests his hand there. "What'd you do, sweet girl?" You groan, retreating away from him to grab your bag of frozen peas from the counter and setting them flat across your bruise. He follows behind in earnest.
"Jason Carver can go fuck himself," you grumble. "S'all he does now, anyway, since Chrissy dumped his ass. And no wonder why. I can't stand him." You stare at where you're soaking your cheer uniform in the sink, the white fabric staining pink the more you tried to scrub Jason's blood out. You're opting to soak it out now, hoping you won't have to go buy a new one.
"Okay, what'd he do," Steve corrects, tucking your hair behind your ear.
You hesitate. You don't really want to tell Steve. It wasn't nice, what Carver had said, and in particular, it hadn't been nice to Steve. You weren't sure what had prompted Carver to start going in on your boyfriend, about how Steve was a loser, a deadbeat, pathetic, wasn't going anywhere in life, but it why he'd said it hadn't mattered to you. He'd said that you and you'd seen red, burning blistering red, and you'd punched him in the face before you could really think about whether or not that was a good idea. And you'd gotten him good, too, a nice big wallop to his smug face when he hadn't suspected it in the slightest, and you'd gotten on top of him going for more when his friend had yanked you off him by your ponytail and sent you spinning down to the asphalt. Your face had been gotten good, too. But not as good as Jason's. You were defensive when it came to Steve. You couldn't help it. He was Steve. He'd do anything for the people he loved, he was loyal and defensive and smart (as much as he'd deny that), he was sweet and had never been anything but perfect to you, perfect for you, and if someone had something to say about him, you'd make sure they'd have to answer to you. You'd never let him feel like he didn't have someone in his corner.
"Nothin'," you mutter, not looking at him, looking anywhere but him. "Just usual asshole Carver stuff."
"No, no, you don't get this worked up over nothin', baby." He wets a paper towel at your sink with rubbing alcohol and raises it to your face. "S'gonna sting, okay? Stay still," he puts it against you as soft as he can but you still hiss and draw back in pain. "You can tell me what he did. Need to know so I don't worry about you all night long." Had he put his hands on you? On one of your friends on the team? Something worse? The thought of something worse made Steve's blood run cold. He'd kill Jason himself, consequences be damned, if he'd touched you any type of way.
You scowl. "I don't wanna talk about it, Steve, seriously."
"You can't just not talk about it with me," he frowns right back at you. "If it's that bad you need to tell me. What happened? Please," he pouts his lip at you and you can't resist, you're melting in his hands, you're giving him whatever he wants the second that plush lower lip juts out at you and his pretty brown eyes go heavy-lidded and tragic-looking. You lean forward and kiss his protruding lip, wrapping your arms around his waist.
You press your face into his shoulder and murmur against his shirt, "He was talkin' bad about you, okay?" He pulls away, brow furrowed.
"Talkin' bad about me?" He places his hands on your shoulders. "Baby, you don't haveta get worked up over me, okay? And don't go throwing punches for me, Christ, you can't do that." He runs a hand through his hair, and there he goes, hands on hips, like he always does when he's worked up and stressed over something you or the kids are doing. "I don't care what he said, okay?" His hands go back to your shoulders, he's looking in your eyes, deep and distraught. "I don't care you. You don't go throwing punches for me. 'M not worth all that."
You push him off you. "Don't say that! That's not true, you're worth it! You'd do it for me, why can't I do it for you? You deserve it, too." Steve goes quiet. "You're worth it, okay? Don't be stupid." You press the frozen peas harder to your hand.
"I still don't like you fighting," he relents, and you know you've got him in the palm of your hand, he could never stay mad at you, not really, but his brows still knit together with worry. You smooth out the crease in them with your good hand and he softens exponentially with a sigh, leaning into your touch.
"As long as no one talks shit about you, I won't be," you pinch his cheek and he laughs. You'd die for that sound.
"Yeah, yeah, cool it, Rocky," he teases.
"Shut up!" You hit him with your bag of peas.
He grins, and he can't help it, he's a little proud, thinking about you punching someone in the face for him. Knuckles bloody for him. Making sure he knows he's worth fighting for. His heart swells at the thought.
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warrior cats dash sim anyone?
#no canon characters #sorray guys thats too much #im just gonna do some made up dudes
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🔲 yourfave-tunnel-guy-deactivat
Guys I hate tunnellers. Lmao.
🌱 dirtdigger-23 Follow
By StarClan, I hate this mindset. Tunnellers are such an underappreciated part of WindClan society. Just because we don't do as much running or typical hunting doesn't make us less valuable than you. Op and cats like him are so stupid.
🌻 l1llyst3m Follow
Crow-food-worth reading comprehension lmao. It was satire (the url clearly states "tunnel.") Also, her*
🌱 dirtdigger-23 Follow
Ok I see where that was probably satire (OP should have made that more clear though) Where are you getting "her" from though lmao. OP's url is "yourfave-tunnel-guy"
🌻 l1llyst3m Follow
I'm getting "her" because I'm OP. This is my new account. I'm trans. Hope this helps.
#i said so in the tags of the last addition #but as i said. crow-food-worth reading comprehension #prev probably didnt even read my tags lmao
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🌾 barncat-vibes Follow
I am goingto fucking kill Jadestar. Lmao.
🌾 barncat-vibes Follow
WRONG BLOG
🐱 berrrrry-o Follow
Clanblr user barncat-vibes is from rc confirmed??
🏞 trouttail-prefers-bass Follow
Haha I already knew that, I'm mutuals with them on their main, plus we're IRL friends. Forgot that wasn't common knowledge.
🐱 berrrrry-o Follow
tbh I always assumed they were wc since thats the clan closest 2 the barns...
🪵 i-eat-moss Follow
Uh sorry ar ewe just glossing over how @barncat-vibes and @trouttail-prefers-bass are IRLS???!!!!?
#mutuals i can understand since they have the same ideas on like #social justice stuff... they both post trans stuff sometimes #but #IRLS? #SOMEONE is fucking with me #i met trouttail once at a gathering #nice dude #suuuper weird to imagine him knowing barncat-vibes
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🌅 kit-names-inspo Follow
I've decided to make a full post on this, since I've noticed this issue a lot lately. So let me make this clear:
I am NOT comfortable with "transgender" cats using my name suggestions to pick out new names. The service I provide is to help queens who have or are having kits, not confused males who think they're mollies.
STOP using my blog for your delusions.
🌅 kit-names-inspo Follow
Go ahead and unfollow me. I didn't want you 200 transgenders on my blog anyway.
🛤 carnation-stem-02 Follow
Anyone else find it funny how after this post OP lost 200+ followers? Anyone?
Anyway for a better source of names for trans mollies, toms & enbies, @name-lists-by-theme has much better names, sorted much more cleanly, AND she's not a transphobe.
#trans #fuck transphobia #fuck transphobes #fuck terfs #<- kit-names-inspo is a self-proclaimed radfem&terf btw
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🔁 🐍xviper-the-fagx reblogged
🤍 snwtl Follow
I can't believe we're being told to "normalize" cats becoming kittypets now. Do you have any idea how many cats would just abandon their families if it became socially acceptable to run off and live with the twolegs???
🍲 ex-thundrclan-kipper Follow
Honestly (as someone who left the Clans because I had a mate in the twolegplace), I haven't seen this to be as true as you're saying. I've seen one cat who "abandoned" his family to become a kittypet, if you count his abusive ex-partner, but for the most part, the cats we leave behind are understanding and okay with the fact that we have to move on. I wasn't meant for warrior life, and I left it, and I'm happier for it.
🤍 snwtl Follow
The fact that you would even imply it's okay to abandon your family for a life as a kittypet only serves to prove my point. You make me sick.
🪺 robbbinpaw Follow
Crow-food-worth reading comprehension
#yeah #snwtl (snowtail i think?) needs to use their eyes lmao #starclan this place gets on my last nerve #thinking of taking a break from clanblr because of shit like this
847 notes
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🌱 dirtdigger-23 Follow
Uhh... where am I. My dash looks weird...
77 notes · View notes
calcifiedunderland · 8 months
Text
Pride and Prejudice: A TWSTed AU
The Schemer of the Scalding Sands: J. Viper
Introduction, or pick another route!
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Jamil x GN Reader
Warnings: Najma and Kalim are wingmen, Jamil insults you Darcy-style (he doesn’t mean it <3 ), P&P-level angst, descriptions of being extremely high in the air (magic carpet ride <3 )
Notes: ngl i became a jamil stan while writing this fic
———
Kalim was being quiet, Jamil thought as he glanced at the clock. Too quiet.
It was late evening, and usually around this time Kalim would be knocking on Jamil’s dorm room asking for him to cook something. Or for homework help. Or to plan a party. Or all three, plus something else. Usually, Jamil couldn’t go more than half an hour without Kalim coming around, but this evening had been oddly peaceful, so something had to be afoot.
He pushed away from his desk and headed down the hall to the dorm leader’s room, pressing an ear against his door. Good, he’s in the room. Judging by Kalim’s voice, he wasn’t in immediate danger. Good, good. Still, he should just make sure. He rapped his knuckles against the door and walked in without waiting, “Kalim, I came to check-“
He stopped in shock, eyes widening and a frown forming. Kalim was on his stomach on his bed video chatting with someone on his phone, legs kicking in the air cheerfully. That was all fine, except-
“Najma?!” Jamil screeched, diving to Kalim to get a better look. “Why are you calling Kalim?!”
“Dude, calm down,” Najma deadpanned. Kalim grinned, “yeah, it’s all fine Jamil! We were just talking about you actually-“
“What?!” Jamil wrenched the phone from Kalim, and dodged his hands. “Najma! You should be doing your homework not talking to Kalim-“
“Jamil can you relax?” Najma drawled, leaning back on her bed. “I just called Kalim to see if you were actually doing your job.” Not really, it was to make sure Jamil wasn’t overstressing himself. Clearly he was. She suddenly smirked, and changed the topic. “Kalim said you were close to that (name) person you brought to the Yasamina Silk festival. They seemed cool, but now they seem great.”
Jamil was indignant. “Don’t listen to him Najma. And Kalim! You-!” Jamil turned to glare at him, then immediately calmed his voice and face. “You should eat something, it’s getting late.” Kalim’s eyes widened and he looked at the time, “you’re right! We should see if the rest of the dorm is hungry too! We could all have dinner together!” He dashed out of the room without waiting for Jamil, who sighed and turned back to Kalim’s phone. “I’d better go after him, take care of yourself, Najma.” “Okay, bye~”
Najma sighed and slumped against her bed. Jamil seems to really like this (name), and they seemed pretty nice when we met. Not to mention, Jamil seemed happy they were there… it’d be nice for him to loosen up too. In the very few times he’d spoken about you to her, he seemed… almost cheerful. Very unlike the high-strung, perfectionist brother she knew. Even though Jamil was still her older brother, she still worried about him a little bit. It’d be nice if he had someone to loosen him up, who he genuinely liked.
She thought back to the festival, where you and Jamil shared a melon with one another. Sure, you may have not known that one Scalding Sands legend, where if you shared that melon with someone, your friendship (or romance!) would last forever. Or maybe you did know.
Either way, she knew her brother well enough that he wouldn’t slip up with splitting the melon like that. He may not believe in superstition, but a Scalding Sands legend was still a legend.
She thought for a bit, and then smirked and picked up her phone. Oh yeah. It’s all coming together. She just needed to get Kalim on board now.
———
Jamil was staring at you again.
It was out of the corner of his eye, and he kept looking away, but you just knew. Because he’d been doing it for the past few months, ever since the Scalding Sands event you’d crashed with Grim.
Granted, you were surprised he even let you go with him and Kalim, given how annoyed he looked at the extra guests (between you two, Trey, Cater, and Malleus, it was an unforgettable trip indeed). And you and Jamil sort of reached a… truce, of sorts, after his overblot.
You didn’t know how you felt ever since he’d basically imprisoned you and Grim in Scarabia, and all the things he’d said about you. Sure, after all of that went down, you were pissed and a little hurt. You’d thought that you’d made a friend in a new dorm, (two, counting Kalim, who really was your friend) but instead he was just using you. And now, the two of you were in a strange stalemate, and surprisingly, saw each other somewhat often.
While running odd errands for Crowley, sometimes you passed by the gym. You’d see Ace and Floyd, and also Jamil playing basketball, and invariably Jamil would become distracted. Floyd even loudly complained about that when a stray shot from Jamil hit him in the head. Then, at some point he’d offered to tutor you in Alchemy, saying that Kalim needed help too, so he’d just be getting two birds with one stone. And then Kalim would throw parties practically every fortnight and sic Jamil on your tail, begging you to come.
You supposed Kalim felt extremely grateful for helping him understand Jamil, but frankly you wanted to be left in peace. Still, when you did accept Kalim’s invitation, you sort of… enjoyed the small talk you made with Jamil, commenting on his cooking and sometimes helping him in the kitchen to get away from the crowds. At some point, the two of you even began meeting up to just… vibe.
Sometimes you’d meet with him in the kitchens, watching him cook while you did your homework, and occasionally cook with him. At some point, you’d take over from him and cook in his place, just to give the poor guy a break. This wasn’t something you took lightly, given how overprotective Jamil was over Kalim - the two of you reached a nice… whatever it was.
Still, you felt like he was uneasy around you. Why else would he keep staring at you, hovering over you, and ask you pointed questions? One moment he’d be more lax around you, chatting and bantering, and the next he’d be… venomous. It wasn’t like you could tell anyone about his overblot. You technically didn’t exist in this universe, anyway, so his secret was safe with you.
You heard a knock coming from the Ramshackle front door, and went to open it. In front of you stood Kalim and Jamil. Wait, no… sat.
They were both seated on Kalim’s flying carpet, the Housewarden beaming at you while Jamil looked tired and a bit peeved. “Hey, (name)!” The carpet waved its tassels at you. “Hey guys, I’m fine, but… why are you here?” Kalim grinned sunnily at you, “we wanted to see you! You should take a break and walk with us!” You glanced at Jamil, who was a little quiet, looking at you intently.
“I can’t, I’m…” you failed to think of an excuse, kicking yourself mentally, “…alright, sure.” Ugh, why did you agree?
Kalim cheered, and the three of you went along the path outside of Ramshackle. Kalim insisted that Jamil stayed on the carpet, even after he suggested he walk with you. “(Name), you should sit with us!” He smiled at you, something mischievous in his eyes. That’s a little… odd? Although it was Kalim after all. He did have some impulsive tendencies.
You gently took Jamil’s hand, surprised he’d even offered to help you up, and sat carefully on the carpet. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Jamil flex the hand he held yours with. You scoffed, “dude, I don’t have rabies or anything. You’re not infected with my hand.” Jamil frowned and opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, Kalim jumped off the carpet. “Now, remember what we talked about! Go, carpet!”
Immediately, the carpet lurched forward. “Kalim, what did you do?!” Jamil gasped as the carpet began rising higher and faster. Your eyes widened and you instinctively grabbed the front of the carpet, “KALIM! Jamil stop the-!” You were cut off as the carpet zoomed up into the sky, leaving no trace except your shrieks and Jamil’s shouts. Nonetheless, Kalim smiled proudly at his handiwork, now Jamil and the Prefect can have some quality time together! Pleased, he pulled out his phone.
Kalim: its done! Jamil and (name) are in a whole new world of love now!!!!!!! \^o^/
On the other end of the chat, Najma grinned, and texted back:
Najma: YESSSSSSSS all according to plan >:)
———
You had been through a lot when you first arrived to NRC. Between living in Ramshackle, fighting overblots, dodging Floyds and Rooks, and shouldering Crowley’s responsibilities, you’ve dealt with your fair share of wildness.
But this? This was new.
You screamed as the carpet seemed to lurch higher and higher into the air, gripping the front of it for dear life. Your stomach flip-flopped wildly, and you tried to not projectile vomit in mid-air. The air rushed past your ears, cold and practically ripping through your skin. You could barely hear anything over the sound of wind, let alone Jamil yelling beside you.
At last, the carpet settled, and you felt extremely lightheaded. Your brain was static at this point, and you moved to lean on both hands when Jamil grabbed your wrist. “Do not look down.”
Well damn, you can’t tell me what to do, Jamil. That made you immediately look over the edge, and you regretted it instantly. The school was barely larger than a postage stamp, and you could practically see the borders of Sage’s Island with how high up you were. It was chilly too - you both were surrounded by clouds, and it was darker than you’d thought. It was probably about to rain - not that you’d know, being above the damn rainclouds.
Beside you, Jamil was beyond exasperated. If he seemed tense before, now he was just pissed. His hand on your wrist tightened, and he leaned closer to you. “Don’t. Look down.” His eyes flashed angrily at you, and you withered under his gaze, gripping the carpet tighter. He turned his eyes to your hands, gently putting his hands over yours.
“Look, I’ll steer the carpet downward, but you need to follow my lead.” He made you look at him. His dark eyes held your gaze, and for a moment you really did feel like you were in the clouds. That the world was just you and Jamil, high above everything on this terrifying carpet ride.
“Do you trust me?” You saw his lips move, but it sounded far away, like he was speaking through water. Maybe it was the altitude messing with your head, but Jamil looked so focused on you. You’d never seen him look at anything like this, so gently.
“Do you trust me?” Jamil tightened his hands over yours, and you were brought back to reality. You nodded, and he sighed. “Good. We’re going to go forward.” Carefully, he tipped the carpet, and you took in a sharp breath when you went forward. The two of you inched downwards, and the school became larger and larger until finally you both touched down in Scarabia.
Jamil clasped your hand in his and lead you off the carpet, silent. He had a deep frown on his face, and his dark eyes were even stormier than the skies. He didn’t get off the carpet with you, but clenched his hands after he helped you off. This was the second time it’s happened, he doesn’t think you have cooties or something right?
“Thanks, Jamil…” You looked at him, hoping he’d maybe lighten up a bit now that you were on the ground, but he refused to look at you, pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance. “Just… stay here. I’m going to put the carpet away, just…I don’t need any more trouble.” As he walked away, you felt his words settle heavily in your gut. I’m just trouble for him? It’s not like I caused the carpet to go sky-high…
Still, you sat on the luxurious couch in the Scarabia common room, and tried to relax. Surprisingly, it was quiet - it seemed that everyone had gone to bed. It was a nice change from Ramshackle, at least. You shut your eyes, beginning to feel tired. After a while, you groggily awoke to a mop of white hair and red eyes exclaiming at you.
“(Name)! What are you doing here?! What about Jamil?! I thought you were up in the sky on your magic carpet ride!” Kalim blabbered while you tried to get your bearings back. He seemed… worried? He put his hand to his chin, thinking. “Well, maybe I could find an empty room and put you both in it-“
“Kalim.” The Housewarden immediately fell silent, spinning to Jamil with wide eyes, smiling at him. “Jamil! Don’t worry, we can still fix this!” Jamil’s frown deepened in confusion, “Kalim, what are you-“ “And the Prefect is still here!” Kalim pointed at you, and you went on alert as Jamil zeroed in on you, seemingly forgetting you were still here.
Kalim continued cheerfully, eyes steeling in happy-go-lucky determination. “And there’s still time! You can get back out on the carpet, there’s still stars out!” Jamil wrenched his eyes back to Kalim, mouth curling into a snarl and arms tensing. “Kalim, what are you talking about?”
“To confess!”
The silence was stifling. You stared wide-eyed at Jamil, who stared incredulously at Kalim, who still smiled innocently. Finally, Jamil seemed to temper himself and said through gritted teeth, “Kalim, go back to your room.”
Kalim placed his hands on his hips, “no way! We still have to-“ “Kalim.” Even though you didn’t know either of them as long as they knew each other, something in Jamil’s voice sapped Kalim of his energy. Kalim’s eyes widened, and after a moment, he left the room. You opened your mouth, but didn’t know what to say.
You watched as Jamil sighed irritably, running a hand through his long bangs. You slouched on the Scarabia couch, watching him pace and huff to himself. What had you done to earn his annoyance? He’s the one who basically kidnapped you on a flying rug. Surely he couldn’t dislike you that much.
“Kalim doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” he said at last, and you frowned deeply. “What? Kalim isn’t stupid, Jamil,” you said sharply, losing your patience, “and what in Seven’s name is up with you?
“Look, you’re-“ Jamil stopped, clearing his throat. He smoothed over his expression, face becoming the usual calm-and-composed Vice Housewarden that he always showed to the world, but not you. “Nothing is wrong.” You finally snapped, exhausted and utterly spent, “what is going on? You’ve been acting weird with me ever since winter break!” Jamil grit his teeth, but you continued. “What is your deal, Jamil?! I thought we were friends! What have I done to make you hate me this much?!”
“You’ve been a thorn in my side since you’ve come here!” Jamil yelled, stopping pacing in front of you. His chest heaved, and he had that angry-crazed look on his face he always got when exasperated. “You’re too clever for your own good! And ever since my…” he swallowed, starting to lose his momentum as he realized what he was saying, “last winter, you’ve shown yourself to be someone…interesting.” Finally, he seemed marginally calmer. “And… I don’t think I could’ve dealt with all of this without you, even though you’re the last person who I thought could help.”
Your frown deepened. You opened your mouth to say something, but Jamil hurriedly continued, shutting his eyes. “Look, I know that I inconvenienced you, but… you’re always on my mind, when I should be thinking about attending Kalim. You’re-“
“Alright, that’s it.” You stood up from the couch, and walked off without sparing a glance. Jamil stopped, sputtering, and cried out “you’re just going to leave?!” You spun on your heel, glaring at him. “Yes! I’m leaving so I don’t cause a bigger mess!” Jamil shut up immediately, and you stalked to him, poking his chest hard. “You have done nothing but insult me. What happened today, with the carpet, was not my fault. If anything, you made me into a thorn in your side.” He flinched, but you blazed on. He didn’t get to hurt and belittle you.
“You hurt the entire dorm with your overblot,” you seethed, “and you didn't inconvenience me. You imprisoned me and Grim in your little scheme. And I have tried to be nice to you since then, and I thought we were becoming friends, but you just seem to hate me every time you see me. So fine,” you backed off, throwing your hands up as you left, “I’m leaving, Jamil. I’m leaving.”
Jamil didn’t know how long he stood there after you’d left. The Scarabia common room seemed to get chillier as the night passed, but he couldn’t find it in himself to go back to his dorm. At some point, he found himself on the couch drifting in and out of sleep, wondering why things were the way they were, and why he just couldn’t be lucky. Before he closed his eyes, utterly defeated, his last thought was, I deserved that. But not them.
———
The next few weeks passed without a hitch, although you were still brimming with dulled hurt every time you saw Jamil and Kalim.
Even though you had nothing against Kalim, Jamil always slunk behind him like a shadow, making you uncomfortable every time the sunny housewarden bounded up to you. Somehow, it felt like Kalim came up to you even more often than before. You’d supposed that maybe Kalim was trying to mend things between you and Jamil, but while he had the best intentions, it was really up to Jamil. Still, you thought, you weren’t exactly kind when you last… spoke to him.
Every time you spoke to Kalim, you tried to gently but firmly turn his invitations down. This time, he seemed adamant that you come to tonight’s party, basically begging you to attend.
“Please, Prefect!” He grabbed your hand pleadingly, “it’ll be fun! The Pop Music club will be playing, and Jamil’s cooking all your favorites-“
“Kalim, let’s go.” You were jarred to hear Jamil speak up, and Kalim actually listen to him rather than brushing it off. Kalim looked at Jamil, who continued, “We need to head back to the dorm and prepare. And…” Jamil avoided your eyes, “please, don’t trouble the Prefect.”
As the two of them left, you felt their absence weigh on you. It had been a while since you’d hung out with Jamil - so you took to cooking alone in Ramshackle or Heartslabyul, and tried studying by yourself. On nights when Scarabia was having a party, you tried to not think about when you and Jamil would hang out in the kitchen, or when you and Kalim would drag him out to the dance floor to loosen up. Still, your Friday nights were getting drearier by the week, even when you tried reading Prejudice and Pride to take your mind off it.
In the gym, the basketball club was in full swing, and Ace and Jamil chatted while passing the ball to each other. “Yeah, sure, I can try to get them to come tonight,” Ace began dribbling the ball, then smirked at Jamil. “Didn’t know you missed them so much though!” Jamil frowned, flushing. “I just… Najma wanted to see them again. That’s all.”
Ace shrugged and passed the ball, “alright, guess I’ll see you later.” Later that day, you frowned at the text you got from Ace, wondering how you should respond. At this point, you’d attempted to avoid Scarabia at all costs, but it had been a while. Even then, you still wanted to see Kalim and Jamil one last time - and at least you’d be with your friends.
Ace: hey theres a party at scarabia tonight, Jamil wants you to go
Ace: so u wanna go or what
You: sure, I’ll be there. Meet u at the mirror in ten
———
You, Grim, Ace, Deuce, and Cater stepped into Scarabia. Immediately Cater ran off to find Lilia and Kalim, and you got separated from Ace and Deuce while trying to cross the dance floor. At some point Grim perked up as he smelled food wafting in the air, and made a beeline for the kitchen. You ran after him, dodging the partygoers (and at some point almost crashing into Lilia, Kalim, and the drum set) until you found yourself standing in the Scarabia kitchen.
Grim bounded over to Jamil, who was standing over the stove stirring a large pot. “Jamil! What’s cookin’?” Grim’s eyes were shining, and he strained to look up. You heard laughter from behind you, and a voice saying “hey, it’s the Prefect!” Jamil’s head snapped back to where you stood. You looked behind you, jaw dropping, “Najma?! What are you doing here?” She grinned at you, and you followed her to Jamil.
“I just wanted to see Jamil! And Kalim said he was having a party today,” she hugged you tightly. “I haven’t seen you since the festival! Jamil keeps talking about you too!” You made eye contact with Jamil over Najma’s shoulder. He looks like a deer in the headlights.
“Najma, let the Prefect go,” Jamil recovered quickly, and she let go reluctantly, pouting. You turned your attention to the pot, “hey, are you making curry? I thought Kalim hated that.”
Grim stood at attention, “whatever it is, I want some!” Jamil sighed, “I already made the food for the party, this is for Najma.” And you, if you showed up. Najma scrunched her nose, “I don’t want that, it’s too… plain.” Plain? You glanced into the very fragrant pot, swirling with spices and oil.
“You’re going to eat. You didn’t have lunch, baba will be mad if he finds out I didn’t feed you,” Jamil spooned some curry onto a plate and Najma crossed her arms. “It’s fine, but you still make your food look too plain. Like, garnish it or something. I know (name) can probably make it better!” She handed the plate to Grim, and as you picked Grim up to place him on a chair to eat, you frowned.
“My cooking isn’t that great, Najma. Jamil taught me some stuff, but still.” Najma looked confusedly at her brother, “but he says you cook so well!” Jamil gaped at her, while your eyes widened. Najma gave her brother a look, and continued, “he loves your cooking! And he said he loves cooking with you! And-”
“Jamil!” Finally you cut her off, as Jamil looked one second away from smothering her, “I didn’t know you liked my cooking?” You felt your nervousness from the party melt, and smiled hesitantly at him. He seemed to soften a little, “Yeah… it’s nice to have the company,” he cleared his throat. Why did it feel so hot in the kitchen?
Najma watched the both of you stare at each other, then clapped her hands together, making you both flinch. “Alright! This is enough. You need to get out.” As she strode out of the kitchen, you both watched her confused. “Najma, where are you going?,” Jamil called, but she didn’t answer. Grim shrugged, finishing off the curry, “Wow! Jamil, the food tasted so good!” You and Jamil stood in silence, before you both opened your mouths to speak.
“Jamil, I’m sorry for yelling-”
“I didn’t mean to hurt you (name)-”
Your eyes widened, and you both fell into an awkwardness. You were about to open your mouth, but then Najma kicked in the door. “Both of you! Out!~” Trailing behind her was… “Why’s the carpet here?!” Jamil yelled, “Najma that’s a precious heirloom of the al-Asim family! You can’t just-!” The carpet wrapped around both of you and Jamil and began pushing you out of the dorm to the outside, being lead by Najma, who cackled gleefully.
“Okay carpet! Two times is the charm! Go!” The carpet seemed to nod? and then unfurled itself from around you two. It swept underneath your and Jamils’ feet, and began rising gently in the air, unlike last time. Jamil was shouting at Najma, looking down but you weren’t focused on him. Rather, you were looking up.
“Jamil,” you nudged him softly. “Not now, Prefect,” he grumbled. “Jamil, look.” He finally sat down on the carpet, and his mouth hung open in shock. The two of you were in the sky again, but not as high this time. All around you, the stars twinkled brightly in the night, and nebulae swirled across the sky. There were barely any clouds. It was slightly chilly, but Jamil’s warmth next to you was enough to keep you fine. Rather, the goosebumps on your arms were from other things.
“It’s beautiful up here,” you breathed, and Jamil glanced at you. “Yeah, it is.” Jamil could feel his stresses slowly dissipate, and while you both were up in the sky, it felt like the world was only you and him, and the twinkling of the stars above you both. His mind wandered to the old Scalding Sands legend. Was this how the princess and her lover felt when they were courting?
You looked over at Jamil, gently grabbing his hand. In the calm of the night, Jamil seemed a little… less put-upon. Like he could finally speak freely. He cleared his throat, lost in thought. “I… got ahead of myself before,” he finally said, shifting uncomfortably on the carpet.
“I never got to tell you, but I’m sorry,” his voice cracked. “I’m sorry for trapping you and Grim in Scarabia. You’re not a thorn in my side, what I meant was… you were always there. And at first, I hated it. I didn’t trust you. You were like a thorn in my side, because you were always there. But…” You waited for him to continue, all the anger and hurt leaving you in the cool night air.
“I began to like your presence. Like I could relax when you were there, because you could help with Kalim, or keep me company while cooking, or just-” Jamil seemed a little choked up now, is he ok? “Be there. I never felt like that… just…-”
“Supported,” you finished, and he nodded, swallowing thickly. You both stayed quiet, until you spoke. “I didn’t mean to yell at you. I just… You always seemed to either like me or hate me?” You felt jittery just saying it out loud, “sometimes we’d be fine, but sometimes you’d just… avoid me. And it hurt.”
Jamil squeezed your hand softly, and you sighed, “And I never know what you’re thinking. I really don’t know if you just kept me around for Kalim, or if we were actually…” friends. Jamil moved closer to you. “...I do like being with you. I… I do.”
Jamil turned your chin so you’d face him. He took a deep breath, “Kalim wanted me to… confess,” the word sounded like a hiss. “I thought he was getting ahead of himself as usual but then I…” he hesitated, “I realized he was right. And Najma was right. I did… I have feelings for you, and somewhere along the way I started… loving you.” His voice became quiet, and he averted his eyes from yours, as if expecting you to be angry. To his surprise, you weren’t.
You cut him off, gently pressing your lips against his cheek. His eyes widened, barely believing it. Him? Of all people, him?
“I really wanted you to not hate me,” you confessed, face feeling warm despite the chill. “I… really do like you, Jamil. I like what you can do, and I like you. And I think somewhere along the way…”
You squeezed his hand tightly, making him look at you with a smile on your face, “I started loving you too.” You softly closed the distance between you, finally ending the weeks of inner turmoil.
Jamil softly cupped your face, looking into your eyes, then kissed you gently, as if he couldn’t believe that this was real. You wrapped your hand around the hand on your face, squeezing it softly. You were here. You moved to clasp him tighter, and he wrapped an arm around your waist, holding you tighter.
Quietly in the chilled night, if anyone cared to look up into the starry sky, they would have seen two newfound lovers finally together, exchanging stolen kisses and chuckling amongst themselves. Lucky for them, the only witnesses to them were the stars above, and two teenagers standing outside Scarabia.
Hands on her hips, Najma proudly stared up into the sky, squinting at the shadowed figures on the carpet. Wordlessly, she held up her hand, and Kalim high-fived her, grinning.
“Mission accomplished!~”
~END
———
Notes: this got so long bc of the introduction with Najma but I just had to include her and Kalim conspiring together! Anyway, hope you enjoyed the Jamil chapter, thank you so much for reading!!!!!!
Taglist: @cerisescherries, @eclecticprincecollector, @ars-tral, @thehollowwriter, @twst-eeps, @casperandcats, @ttokkisbee, @mitsuriswaifu, @parad-ice-lostandfound
@sad-sie, @moyo5653,
(If your username is in bold, it means I wasn’t able to tag you properly 😅)
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wolfjackle-creates · 9 months
Text
Bring Me Home Arc 2 Part 16
Happy WIP Wednesday everyone! Sorry I missed last week, but I think I should be good to get back on track going forward. Finished making most of the baby things I want to make for my soon-to-be nephew, so I'll be able to spend more time writing than crocheting again.
Story Summary: Tim and Danny are both neglected by parents who care more about their work than their families. They deal with this by spending too much time online and find each other playing MMORPGs. They keep up their friendship as Tim becomes Robin and Danny becomes Phantom and don't bother keeping secrets from each other.
First, Previous
Word Count: 1.4k
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An hour later, all eight of them were ensconced in the theater in Sam’s basement with a few pizzas and salads spread around them. Wulf again refused any and the rest dug in.
“All right, Tuck, we need to figure out what Walker’s up to. Can you ask Wulf?”
Tim watched as Tucker asked and Wulf responded. Then Tucker burst out laughing and slapped his knee.
Tim’s eyes narrowed. He wouldn’t.
Sam scoffed. “You have no idea what he said, do you?”
“Not a clue,” Tucker admitted.
Tim groaned.
Bart cocked his head. “Give me five minutes, I’ll be right back!”
Before Danny could even finish asking, “Where are you going?” Bart was gone.
Conner grabbed another slice of pizza and said, “He’s off to learn Esperanto. Hang tight and he’ll be right back.”
“How can he learn a language so fast?” asked Sam.
Tim swallowed. “He’s a speedster. His normal is faster than our brains can comprehend. He slows himself down so he can interact with us mere mortals. He’ll be back.”
Sure enough, in less than ten minutes, Bart was back among them. He repeated Tucker’s question. This time, when Wulf responded, the ghost was understood.
“So, Walker is pissed at Danny,” translated Bart. “And he totally wants to ruin your entire life and drag you back to his prison in the ghost zone. Apparently he and his guards are overshadowing a bunch of the people you’re close to in the town to trap you in their web of lies.”
Danny groaned and buried his face in his hands. “How do I fight against that? I can’t just soup them all! I don’t even know who all is overshadowed!”
Cassie butt in then. “We know some of them. Dash and your classmates are definitely overshadowed.”
“Your reputation improved thanks to the other night,” commented Conner. “That might help mitigate Walker’s plans.”
“Doubt it,” said Danny. “Most people think I’m a menace. One night of good publicity won’t turn them around. Especially not with my parents there to dirty my name.”
“Let’s prepare a press release,” suggested Tim. “I bet the Young Justice team could get themselves on the local news. And if we speak up for you, it might help.”
Danny exchanged looks with his two friends. Tucker shrugged, “Couldn’t hurt, dude.”
“Fine,” bit out Danny. “What else?”
Conner looked at Wulf curiously. “Bart, does Wulf know how we can get his collar off?”
“Oooh, good question.” Bart asked, but Wulf shook his head as he answered.
“Will he let me look at it?” asked Tucker.
“I might be able to help, too,” added Tim as he stepped closer and reached out to touch.
Before he could actually touch the collar, though, Wulf snarled at him and jumped back several feet. Tim held up his hands in apology and took a step back himself. “Sorry!”
Bart grinned at him. “He said don’t touch it.”
Tim grimaced and nodded. “Think I got that.”
Tucker was already typing away on one of his devices. “I’m gonna try something. Might help.”
And that’s when Wulf screamed out in pain and fell to the floor clawing at the collar.
“Shit!” shouted Tucker as he rushed forward. He managed to plug his device into a port on the collar. Electricity arced back along the connection, causing Tucker to yelp in pain and drop his PDA.
But a moment later, there was a beep and the collar fell to pieces.
Wulf looked down in shock, then up at all of them. “Mi libras?”
“You’re free, dude,” said Tucker.
Bart added something in Esperanto.
Wulf grinned at them, sharp teeth shining in the light. “Mi libras!” Then he turned and disappeared as he jumped through the wall.
Conner groaned and collapsed backwards. “Jerk couldn’t even stick around long enough to help us after everything we did for him.”
Tim sighed and sat down as well. “Well, we’ll figure it out ourselves. Just like we always do. So, operation Fix Danny’s Reputation. We’ll start with talking to the press. What else?”
“Can we write up op-eds describing what really happened in some of his ghost fights?” asked Cassie. “Set the record straight?”
“What if we make you easier to reach?” added Tim. “Get a number the police or the mayor can reach you at so you can show them you’re willing to work with them instead of just on your own?”
“Do you think that’ll work?” asked Danny.
Tim shrugged. “Worked for Batman. Don’t see why it wouldn’t help you.”
Danny sighed and rubbed a hand down his face. “Okay. Let’s do it.”
“Great,” said Tim. “I’ll send out some emails asking for interviews. And then we can start working on the op-eds. How about we split into three groups, Danny and me in one, the rest of you can split up how we like. Then we can go over the major ghost fights that have happened and write tell-all articles that don’t run the risk of spoiling Danny’s identity.”
Conner shrugged. “Sam, wanna work with me?”
Sam grinned. “You betcha.”
Bart disappeared and reappeared next to Tucker. “Tucker and I will work together, too!”
Cassie moved until she was next to Conner. “I call working with Sam and Kon.”
“Great. Now, Tuck, do you happen to know the best contact info for local reporters?” Tim pulled out his laptop and powered it on as he spoke.
“Give me five minutes and I’ll get it for you.”
Fifteen minutes later, Tim had sent out a dozen emails asking for interviews. As he and Tucker were working, Danny and Sam had gone through which ghost fights would be the best to write about and divided up the attacks between the three groups.
Once he was ready to start on the articles, Tim sat down next to Danny. “So, what are we starting with?”
Danny grinned. “We’re going to go over my first fight. The one with Lunch Lady. She wasn’t bad, but caused a lot of clean up for the school and wasted a lot of resources. Most people still don’t even know that was a ghost attack.”
“Great, let’s get started.”
Tim had heard about most of Danny’s fights before, but being next to him in person definitely made a difference. They were sitting with their arms pressed against each other so they could both see the computer screen and add or delete bits as they went. It was nice.
They’d been working for a few hours when Sam’s parents came down.
“Children!” called her mom.
Tim wasn’t the only one to hide a grimace at the term.
Jeremy Manson continued, “The mayor has instituted a curfew for the city due to all the ghosts. No one is allowed out on the streets after nine PM.”
Pamela Manson giggled. “And it’s nine PM now! So looks like you’ll all be staying here. Tim, dear, be sure to tell your father how seriously we took your safety. I don’t want any of you leaving the house until morning.”
Tim turned on his gala smile. “My dad is in a coma, I’m afraid. But I’ll be sure to tell Bruce just how considerate all the people of Amity have been.”
Jeremy let out a forced laugh. “Of course, our mistake. We wish our best to your father, as well. I hope his prognosis is good?”
Tim blinked at him. “He’s been in a coma for months.”
Pamela giggled again. “Of course, we knew that. Right, dear?” She smacked her husband lightly on the arm.
“Sure did!” he agreed. “Well, I hope to hear news of his miraculous recovery. I’m sure he is getting the best of care.”
“Of course he is,” agreed Tim. “I wouldn’t put up with anything less.”
A few more giggles and well wishes, then Pamela and Jeremy made a hasty retreat.
Once they were alone, Conner looked at him with concern. “Tim—”
“I’m fine, Conner.”
Before anyone else could try and say anything, his email beeped. Tim took the excuse and read it over. The most popular morning radio talk show wanted to have the Young Justice on. Tim grinned.
“We’re getting up early, guys. Radio interview at six AM.”
Cassie laughed. “I can do that, can you?”
Tim shrugged. “I just won’t go to sleep. Easier to stay up that late than drag myself out of bed that early.”
Conner shook his head. “You and your family are insane, Rob.”
“Yeah, yeah. Let’s get back to work.”
-----
Next
This is where I definitely go off the rails of what happened in the show. But that's half the fun of an AU! Hope you like it.
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Scroll down to the next post on my blog to see the really cool birthday comic @stealingyourbones made for me!
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sixhours · 3 months
Text
Firsts - Laugh
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Anna’s firsts, a series of fluffy drabbles set in the One Day at a Time universe.
Rating: Explicit, 18+ Series tags: The Last of Us, The Last of Us (HBO), Joel Miller x f!OFC, soft!Joel, no really super soft!Joel, Joel is a sap, smut, smut but no one gets to finish :(, babies are assholes, Ellie is a little shit, use of the terms crotch nugget and vaginal dumpling, ew, fluff, fluffy baby stuff, no really this is sickeningly sweet, tooth-rotting, don't forget to brush your teeth Word count: 1.7k
Notes: Oops, I made it smutty. Sickly sweet with a dash of humor and smut, nary an angsty cloud in sight. Joel thinks of Sarah but it's not sad.
You can also read Firsts on AO3.
~*~
Joel rarely misses the QZ; the crowding, the starvation, the shit-shoveling, the hopelessness that clung to the place like a skunk’s spray. But once in a blue moon, he longs for the kind of anonymity he’ll never find in the commune of Jackson, Wyoming.
Like today, when he’s picking up his share of spring vegetables at the greenhouse after work. Because Marjorie, the nice old lady who lives three houses down, the one who works as a nurse at the clinic, has a message to pass along with his bag of greens.
“Oh, Joel! You’re clear!”
“M’sorry?”
“Your sample! It came back clear,” she smiles, then offers a clarifying stage whisper. “No sperm. Thought you’d want to know.”
He blinks, instinctively looking downward. He’s still wearing pants. This isn’t one of those mortifying dreams he used to get, back when his worst fear was showing up to work with his fly open.
As if it wasn’t bad enough he’d had to walk a cup of his jizz to the clinic in a paper bag and hand it directly to his elderly neighbor.
As if he hadn’t blushed like a school kid when Marjorie had accepted it way too loudly and cheerfully like she couldn’t wait to get the stuff under a microscope.
As if he hadn’t sat on the couch with an ice pack on his groin for two days while Ellie teased him mercilessly about his junk.
But now he’s shooting blanks. And thanks to Marjorie, everyone in the vicinity of the greenhouse—a not-insignificant number of people given Jackson’s tiny size—knows it.
He can’t get out of there fast enough.
He slams his way into the house, kicks off his boots by the door, the bag of vegetables landing with a thud on the counter.
“The hell, dude?” Ellie pops up from the couch, gesturing at the portable crib nearby. “You’re gonna wake your crotch nugget.”
Ellie’s new favorite thing is to find the crudest nicknames for Anna and coo them at her in a sing-song voice until the baby grins. Anna probably can’t hear her, it’s probably just the sheer joy on Ellie’s face every time she does it, but it always seems to work. For all of Joel’s protests, Ellie and her foul mouth can make the kid smile like no one else.
“That’s awf—don’t—don’t call her that,” he winces, checking on the baby, who remains blissfully asleep despite his racket.
Ellie eyes him, his scowl deeper than usual, a flush of embarrassment still creeping up the back of his neck. 
“Who pissed in your cereal?”
“No one,” he grumbles. “M’goin’ upstairs.”
“Sure, and leave me with the womb rat.“
“Ellie—“
“It’s fine,” she waves him off, collapsing back on the couch with a dramatic sigh. “Free babysitting, that’s all I’m good for.”
Joel looks to the crib and then pointedly to Ellie, sighing. “She’s asleep. I’m here now. You’re free to go anytime.”
“And miss all this?” she snarks, waving her hand around. “Whatever.”
“Jesus Christ,” he mutters, trudging up the stairs.
The bedroom door is closed. He cracks it open and finds Charlie sitting cross-legged on the bed in what she lovingly calls her “tits out” position, breast pump in one hand and a book in the other, frowning intently at her reading material. She barely looks up when he enters.
Her presence in his life still catches him by surprise. Her smaller, softer clothes alongside his in the closet, her flowery lavender soap in the shower, filaments of silver hair threaded into their bedding.
“Hey,” he murmurs, and all his earlier humiliation is forgotten at the sight of her. She looks fucking amazing. Topless, hair mussed, wearing a pair of his gray sweats, bare feet poking out of the rolled-up cuffs, effortlessly comfortable and vulnerable and his . A pleasant heat crawls through his belly and he actually starts salivating like a goddamned dog.
He’s a hopeless case.
A hopeless case who’s shooting blanks.
Maybe this day can be salvaged after all.
“Kid’s nappin’,” he murmurs in a low voice he hopes sounds seductive.
“Hmm?” Charlie says, not taking her eyes off her book. Must be a good one.
“Anna’s out,” he says, unbuttoning his shirt, unable to take his eyes off her as he crawls onto the bed. “The, uh…vasectomy worked.”
“Uh-huh,” she murmurs, chewing on her plush lower lip. Then she blinks, finally turning her attention to him. “Wait, what?”
“Vasectomy worked,” he says easily as he plucks the book from her hand, creases the page corner to mark her place, and sets it aside.
“How do you kn–”
“Don’t ask,” he grumbles, sliding forward and nuzzling at the base of her jaw. “Thought we could celebrate.”
“Oh?” She breathes a sweet little sigh into his good ear as he plants slow, soft kisses down her neck. He gently takes the pump away; it comes off her breast with an audible pop , and he immediately replaces it with his mouth, catching the last of her sweetness on his tongue.
“Ohhhh, that’s ni–wait wait, careful, don’t spill.”
He shoots her a look, then delicately sets the half-full bottle on the nightstand without taking his lips off her.
“Smooth,” she giggles wryly as he laves at her nipple, feeling it tighten against the soft, wet muscle of his tongue. Her laughter dissolves into a moan when his hand cups her other breast, tip slick with milk that he circles and rubs into her skin.
The whole fucking town might know about the status of his vas deferens , but this will make it more than worth it.
Charlie shimmies out of her sweats– his sweats, and she’s not wearing underwear, is she trying to fucking kill him? Or did they run out of clean laundry?
Whatever the reason, his jeans are suddenly painfully tight. He drags himself away and shucks them off, cock aching as it springs free. She’s already sliding down the bed, sliding under him, spreading her legs, touching herself. He wants to lick and taste and suck every part of her, but he settles for a nip to her inner thigh and a kiss to her stomach before he’s covering her body with his, hyper-aware of the tiny human alarm clock ticking downstairs.
Charlie reaches between them, angling her hips, rubbing his cock through her folds, guiding him home. She’s soft and warm as he sinks into her tight, wet grip. They stay like that for a moment, connected but not moving, breathing together, no barriers to dampen the sensation. Finally , he thinks dully. Finally .
“Hi,” she whispers, her soft smile and the achingly hot clutch of her making his brain go fuzzy around the edges until the only response he can muster is a grunt. He captures her lips in his, feeling the blissful wet slip of her in his mouth, the pulse of her tongue at the back of his teeth.
“Yesssss,” she sighs when his hips rock forward of their own volition, one deep thrust in and a slow, agonizing withdrawal that leaves him panting.
“Fuck, baby, so good,” he groans when he’s able to form words again. Not his most eloquent work, but it will have to do, because she’s sucking at his lower lip, swirling her tongue against it, teasing him with little pecks until he growls and threads his fingers through her hair, pulling the strands taut and anchoring her mouth to his.
She wraps her legs around him, urging him deeper, cradling him there. He pins her with his hips and presses her into the mattress, grinding hard against her until she moans, the sound reverberating through his chest and stomach and straight to his groin. A particularly deep thrust has her gripping at his shoulders, blunt nails leaving little marks on his skin.
“Fuck, Joel, right there, right–ahhhh,” she keens.
“Shh,” he pants, soothing her kiss-bruised lips with his, forehead pressed to hers. “Gotta…be quiet. Kid’s…downstairs.”
As if on cue, Ellie’s voice rings up the stairwell, a keyed-up kind of shrill that sends an unpleasant shiver down his spine.
“Joel!”
“Shit,” he hisses.
“Joel! Charlie!”
“We’re coming,” he barks, thinking they aren’t coming—not now, anyway—and that’s a goddamn shame. He plants an apologetic kiss at Charlie’s temple before he’s out of bed and rummaging around on the floor for his boxers.
He yanks on his underwear and flies down the stairs, half out of breath and fearing the worst.
“What? What’s wrong? What happened?”
Ellie is holding Anna, awake and bright-eyed, both grinning with delight.
“She laughed!”
“She–what?” Charlie is at his back now, wrapped in her robe.
“She fucking laughed, dude! C’mon, do it again! Show ‘em!”
Anna smiles and coos, spit bubbles popping at the corner of her little mouth.
“I swear she just did it,” Ellie says. “Come on, bug, let’s hear it. Show your mama and dad what you can do.”
She sticks out her tongue, lightly bouncing Anna up and down until the baby gives a happy little gurgle…but no laugh.
“Ugh, kid, you’re killing me here!”
Joel clears his throat. “Uh, I’m gonna go–”
“Wait!” Ellie cries, eyes lighting up. She pulls the baby close until their noses are almost touching. Her voice is an exaggerated whisper.
“ Vaginal dumpling !”
Joel groans. “For fuck’s sake, Ellie–”
He’s cut off by the sound of Anna’s unmistakable belly laugh, a riotous cackle that wraps its tiny fingers around Joel’s heart and steals the breath from his lungs.
She sounds so much like Sarah that it hurts, but it’s a good pain, a healing pain. The notes carry on the air like a memory set free from somewhere deep and dark and long forgotten.
He wants to hear her laugh again and again and again.
“There it is!” Ellie whoops, bringing him back, anchoring him to the present. “I knew you could do it, ya little crotch goblin!”
She turns to them, smug and pleased with herself. Then she pauses, her grin fading into a grimace as she takes in the sight of her father and Charlie, rumpled and half-dressed.
“Joel? Where the fuck are your clothes?”
Anna’s laugh rings out again, loud and clear and perfect.
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artiststarme · 1 year
Text
Ex-fucking-cuse you
Thank you to @carlyv for the title idea! I don’t know if I really like whatever this is but other people seem to so I’ll leave it be. Let me know what you guys are thinking in the comments!
~*~*~*~
Whenever he had shared his feelings in the past, he’d had them stomped on. From crushes to life goals, anyone he’d ever confided in had laughed in his face. The first memorable time had been when he told Tommy about his crush on Heath Sellers at recess in fourth grade. Tommy H. told him that he wouldn’t be friends with a fag and if he ever mentioned liking a dude again, he’d kick his ass. That circumstance really showed Steve that he couldn’t trust anyone. If he couldn’t share what he was thinking with his best friend, who else could he tell?
The second time was with Nancy Wheeler. Steve told her he loved her even though he knew it was too early into their relationship and he knew she was still grieving Barb. But he still told her and all she did for the first few times was call him an idiot afterwards. Steve loved too much and too hard. Sure, after a few weeks she said it back but Steve could tell it wasn’t genuine and was most likely said out of pity.
The fact that she called him bullshit just two weeks later kind of cemented that fact in his mind.
It made him feel sort of hypocritical. He told the kids to be open and honest, prided them on their communication. And then he neglected to do the same. He hid his nightmares and semi-suicidal thoughts behind an impenetrable wall that no one in the Party could breach.
Until Eddie.
For months, Steve hated Eddie because it felt like he was stealing the kids away from him. He was jealous that they shared a common interest that he couldn’t understand and was gearing up for the kids to leave him behind. But then, Eddie told him that the kids worshiped him and he’d been jealous too. Jealous of the cool babysitter that influenced their actions in DnD and could do no wrong.
Steve felt like Eddie could truly see him, could understand Steve, and liked what he saw. He could tell that Eddie was going to be a great friend of his, or more. He liked more.
But when he ran back to the trailer park after flambéing Vecna, he saw a blood soaked Eddie being cradled by Dustin. His slow paced jog turned into a full blown sprint. Steve yanked Eddie out of Dustin’s arms and made a mad dash towards the portal in his trailer. He wasn’t going to lose the one guy that made him feel more understood than anyone else had ever made him feel.
The girls and Dustin tearfully followed them but Steve couldn’t spare them any attention. He was solely focused on the sluggish bleeding of Eddie’s wounds.
“Ow, Harrington. Calm the fuck down.”
“Eddie?!” The metalhead’s eyes were blurry but somewhat focused on Steve’s face. “Hey man, you have to stay awake. When we get out of here, you can teach me all about your shitty yelling music and nerd game, okay?”
The blurriness lifted slightly as pure offense filled his face, “ex-fucking-cuse you. That “shitty yelling” is true music unlike your Tears for Fears garbage or whatever the hell else you listen to. I have taste. And yeah, Harrington. I will be teaching you Dungeons & Dragons when we get out of here. Lugging my body out of here when I was trying to make a noble sacrifice is disgraceful.”
“You’re not allowed to die, Eddie.” Steve said, panting with exertion and stress.
“That’s not up to you,” and then he passed out.
“Fuck!” Steve screamed. That fucking dramatic shit, if those were his last words, Steve would bring him back just to kill him again.
Steve’s feelings were threatening to overcome him as his hands shook while he put Eddie into the car. Nancy held one of them and gave him a look of meaning. “I’ll drive.”
“Um, yeah, yeah. Okay, thanks. Henderson! Keep pressure on his wounds. We need to stop the bleeding.” He desperately put pressure on the worst of the wounds on his torso and prayed to a god he no longer believed in.
And then they sped towards the hospital.
Steve was there when Eddie woke up, just as he had been in the four days he’d been unconscious while recovering from shock. He was trying to read the dancing letters in The Hobbit but when he looked up and met Eddie’s eyes, the book dropped from his hands.
“Didn’t take you for a fantasy nerd, Harrington.” Eddie mumbled, his voice hoarse but unwavering.
“We need to talk about your theatrics, man. You almost gave me a heart attack, Eddie.”
“Oh, we’re on a first-name basis now? If I’d known all I had to do was risk my life to be in King Steve’s court, I would’ve done it a long time ago.” Eddie smirked at him.
“I’m not a king anymore.” Steve said and shook his head. It’d been a long time since anyone had called him that and he didn’t like the way it sounded on Eddie’s lips either.
“My apologies, Steve. You’re not a king, you’re a paladin. And that’s better than any noble.” Eddie said wisely.
Steve had no idea what the fuck any of that meant or what a pal-man was but he could listen to Eddie rant at him for hours as long as he kept looking at him like that. His face was fond and his lips, though scarred with a vicious bite marring their softness, smiled softly at Steve.
He coughed a bit to clear his throat and tore his eyes from Eddie’s lips to his amused eyes. “Um, do you said you were going to explain your screamy metal shit?”
That got Steve his desired reaction and Eddie squawked. “You motherfucker-”
As Steve listened to his enraged ranting, he made himself a promise. He was going to be more like Eddie. He was going to be more free with his feelings and he would find a way to talk to his friends about them. But for now, he’d listen to Eddie’s virtriolic soliloquy about the merits of metal artists and the importance on nonconformist music in “this sweaty armpit of a state”. And Steve couldn’t be happier.
@doubleb11 @nburkhardt @zerokrox-blog @newtstabber @carlyv
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ladykailitha · 11 months
Text
Royal Pain Part 12
Hello! I managed to get this finished before bed. So tada!
Steve and Eddie aren’t on the same page yet, and Eddie fucks up.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3  Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8  Part 9  Part 10  Part 11
***
As he drove Robin and Erica back to her apartment, (Robin refused to be in the same room as them because of how absolutely gooey they were around each other) Steve’s anticipation for tonight was ramping up. He had stopped by the store to get all the ingredients for tonight.
He pulled out his best wok and washed the rice, getting it started cooking before he did anything else. He cleaned and chopped the vegetables, getting them in the wok first. Once they were about half way done, he pulled them out and set them to the side.
He then cut up the chicken and started cooking it up. Then he made the sauce in the wok with the chicken pushed to the one side and then he mixed them together. He added the vegetables last, warming them through so that they had a crisp but not hard bite to them. He was tossing the mixture in the sesame seeds when the doorbell rang.
He dashed over to the door and opened it.
Eddie stood on the other side, hands shoved into his pockets and big smile on his face. “Hey-ya, Stevie!”
Steve blushed. “Come on in,” he said, stepping out of the way. “You’re right on time. I just finished making dinner.”
Eddie slipped past Steve and into the apartment. “Smells great. I can’t wait. I’ve been telling the guys about it all weekend. They are insanely jealous by the way.”
Steve smiled. “What? Can none of them cook?” He led Eddie over to the table where he started to plate up the chicken.
Eddie grinned. “Sadly, their talents lie in music and not cooking.” He sat down. “Gethin, Gareth’s twin can bake, but that’s really not the same thing as cooking.”
Steve chuckled. “No. Cooking once you know the basic rules can be tweaked in all sorts of ways. Don’t eat pork, dark meat of fowl like chicken or turkey will work. Or tofu if you’re vegetarian or vegan. Baking though? Gluten intolerant? Fuck you then, because you have to replace more than just the one ingredient you have to find three things to replace it so it acts the same way.”
Eddie nodded. “I call baking alchemy and cooking art.”
Steve smiled. “That sounds about right. Chopsticks or forks?”
“Chopsticks if you have ‘em,” Eddie said.
Steve went to the drawer and pulled out four black chopsticks with a silver band on top. He handed two to Eddie and kept two for himself.
“These are nice,” Eddie said, immediately digging into his food. “Wow. Shit, dude. So good.”
Steve blushed and took a bite of his food. “I’m glad you like it.”
“Where did you learn to cook so good?” Eddie asked around a bit of food.
Steve flushed. “It was either learn how to cook or eat take out every night when my parents were gone.”
Eddie looked up through his lashes. “Yeah, how often were they gone?”
Steve rolled his eyes and scoffed. “I think a better question would be when weren’t they gone?”
Eddie frowned. “What do you mean?”
Steve set down his chopsticks and sighed. “Look, you went to high school with me, you know I was famous for the ragers I threw. Do you know why I could throw those parties?”
Eddie half shrugged. “I never really thought about it. I was never on the guest list.”
Steve snorted. “Like I had any control of the guest list. That was all Tommy and Carol. Seriously. After my second concussion in two years that had me benched in every sport I was in except swimming, I realized they didn’t care about me. They only cared that I had absent parents, a cleaner that came every other day, and a huge house with swimming pool in the back.”
Eddie winced. “Is that why the parties stopped that last part of your senior year?”
Steve nodded. “So yeah, I learned how to cook to prevent myself from getting into bad eating habits and I just kept it up. I enjoy it. Not like tattooing but it’s fun.”
“Sorry,” Eddie murmured. “I sometimes forget that high school was almost a decade ago. You look so much like you did back then that I forget that all that shit is just water under the bridge. But I’m trying.”
Steve smiled softly. “And I appreciate it. I really do. Actually, one of my apprentices actually went to high school with us, too.”
Eddie tilted his head to the side. “Yeah, would I know them?”
“Would you know head cheerleader,” Steve said with a smirk, “and then girlfriend of the captain of the basketball team you final senior year?”
Eddie leaned his head forward. “Chrissy? Chrissy Cunningham? Are you shitting me right now?”
Steve shook his head.
“Hell yeah,” Eddie said with a grin. “Of course I remember her. Great girl. Glad she broke it off with that Carver kid though. He was one of those Christians that forgot the main principle the dude taught was to love everyone.”
Steve nodded. “I hear he’s one of those wackos that go around to public streets and harass poor people about religion for YouTube views.”
“Fuck, really?” Eddie hissed. “I guess I can’t say I’m surprised. Lucky dodge for Chrissy then. You thinking of snapping up that girl?”
Steve felt as though a bucket of cold water had been dumped right over his head. He thought that this was a date. He had done it again. Presumed too much.
“No,” he said softly. “Robin has a better chance with her then I do. Apparently she is a lesbian.”
Eddie furrowed his brow a little, wondering about the sudden mood switch.
“Good for her,” is all he said.
The night got awkward and stayed that way until Eddie got up to go home.
“See you tomorrow?” Eddie asked trying to at least salvage some part of the evening.
Steve cocked his head to the side. “Tomorrow?”
“Yeah, you’re starting on the sword tomorrow, right?” Eddie asked, heart in his throat.
Steve confusion clears. “Of course! I can’t wait. I’m really excited to start working on it.” He gives Eddie’s wrist a squeeze. “I thought we made plans that I had forgotten about. No. Of course I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Eddie relaxed a little bit and nodded.
Steve closed the door gently behind him.
*
Jeff was brushing his teeth to get ready for bed when there was a pounding on his door. He looked over at Mandy and frowned.
“You expecting anyone, babe?” she asked, after spitting into the sink.
Jeff shook his head. He rinsed out his mouth and padded to the door. He opened it to reveal a jumpy Eddie.
Jeff rolled his head from side to side. “You do know Mandy’s got work in the morning, right?”
Eddie nodded. “I fucked up with Stevie and I don’t know what I did but I really need my best friend right now.”
“Come on in,” Mandy said from behind Jeff. “I’ll get you two a beer.”
Eddie sat on their ratty sofa, his knee jiggling with restless energy. Mandy handed them the beers and kissed Jeff’s cheek.
“Don’t stay up too late.”
Jeff watched as she walked back to their bedroom. Once the door was closed he turned to Eddie. “Right start at the top. What do you mean you fucked things up with Steve?”
“I don’t know, man!” Eddie said after downing half of the bottle in one go. “Things were going great, dinner was amazing. It got a little awkward when he said he learned how to cook because his parents were never home and then bam! The bottom opened up and I left earlier then I expected because the air was so thick with tension you could cut it with a knife.”
Jeff closed his eyes and then opened them again. “Tell me everything. Leave nothing out. Knowing you like I do, you probably said something you didn’t think was important, but really, really was.”
Eddie sighed and went through the whole conversation.
Jeff buried his head in his hands and groaned. “Dude, tell me you really didn’t ask Steve if he was going bang one of his apprentices, you know one of the people that work for him?”
Eddie scoffed, waving his hand. “I was joking.”
“Did Steve know that?” Jeff prodded.
Eddie opened his mouth and then closed it. He opened it again, but no sound would come out. He snapped it shut and frowned. “Maybe not?”
Jeff waved his hand at him. “Also seriously, dude. What kind of messed up fucker asks his crush if he wants to bang some chick?”
Eddie’s jaw dropped. “Oh shit.”
“Look I don’t know this guy,” Jeff said. “Not well enough anyway. If this was Gareth or Brian, I could tell exactly what he was thinking. But I don’t and you don’t either. Which means you didn’t just fuck up, Eddie. You fucked up bad. So you’re going to have to grovel. And I do mean grovel. Flowers, dinner, the works.”
“Yeah,” Eddie said breathing out a shuddering sigh. “Yeah, man. Fuck. What if I messed things up with for good?”
Jeff shook his head. “I don’t know. I guess endure the most awkward thirty hours of your life?”
“Shit.”
*
The first thing Eddie did that morning was call the shop.
“Royal Pain, this is Robin, how can I help you today?”
“Birdie,” Eddie greeted. “Is Steve around?”
Robin sighed heavily. “He’s working with Chrissy at the moment, I can take a message?”
Eddie sighed. “No, no. It’s fine. It’s actually you I wanted to speak to anyway.”
“Is this about last night?” she asked.
Eddie blinked away the tears that formed at the thought that Steve had told her about it. “I’m trying to grovel and need a list of his faves so that I make it up to him for being an absolute ass.”
Eddie could feel Robin’s grin through the phone. “Right. Where do you want me to start?”
They talked for a good twenty minutes before she said, “Look, I’ve got another call coming in. That should be enough to start with. Hop to it, doofus. I want to see it, capeesh?”
“I read you loud and clear,” Eddie said.
“Good.”
***
Part 13 Part 14  Part 15  Part 16  Part 17  Part 18 Part 19  Part 20  Part 21   Part 22  Part 23  Part 24  Part 25 Part 26  Part 27  Part 28  Epilogue
@spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk​ @renaissan-vvitch @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @plyerice27 @thedragonsaunt @chaoticlovingdreamer @sapphirecobalt-1 @a-little-unsteddie @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @itsall-taken @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @aizawa-emma @redfreckledwolf @thesuninyaface @bookbinderbitch @yikes-a-bee @littlewildflowerkitten @scheodingers-muppet @archermightbegay @hallucinatedjosten @ellietheasexylibrarian @anne-bennett-cosplayer @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @bestwifehaver @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx
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virginburial · 11 months
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hi! could i request something with ethan x fem!reader (or gn, whichever makes you the most comfortable :)) where reader is this really like, wealthy kid at blackmore who’s part of the core four (but since she’s in it… maybe fab five? idk 😭 i suck at this) and she’s dating ethan and just loves to spoil him? i’m assuming he’s like a broke college student, and the whole group kinda jokes that’s she’s his sugar mommy lmao. if you’re not up for it, feel free to ignore this request! i love your work <3 can’t wait to read more of your writing, thank you so so much for sharing it with us!
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ I so clearly saw Gossip Girl in my head I'm dead x-x but let me break down why this would absolutely work on Ethan
Ethan Landry CD mix!       .·:*¨༺♱༻¨*:·.
especially since I'm getting an old money-great Gatsby feel out of it, your family probably owns a company that's been around for generations, one of those Rockefeller/Vanderbilt types. the kind of family HBO writes hit dramas about. You weren't snobby about it but still carried yourself differently than all your peers (you knew you were hot shit). So when regular-schmegular middle-class suburban boy next door Ethan catches your eye, it is a shock to everyone, especially him.
Ethan barely had a job and was living off of loans, like everyone else. you noticed this when he nervously asked you out to Olive Garden and ate nothing but the free breadsticks and some soda. you felt bad; you could tell he wanted to impress you.
so you started bringing him coffee every time you walk to class together; "I can't hold your books and the coffee y/n-" "-just take the fucking latte, Ethan!" he was too humble to take your offerings, but soon, as your romantic relationship with him evolved, so did his acceptingness and gratitude. You two would go to the mall and whatever Ethan stared at for more than five seconds would be coming home with you. other times, you'd door-dash him food whenever he studied for hours on end, because you knew Ethan had the habit of focusing too much on his studies and forgetting to eat.
"dude! she's totally your sugar mommy." Chad would tease, or Mindy and Anika would comment about asking you for permission before he does anything; "Don't you need your momma's blessing before you do that?" It's a little annoying, but Ethan knows the truth; you loved to spoil him, and he loved being spoiled by you. you loved seeing how excited he gets over a pair of sneakers or some dinner, and he loved knowing that the person he loves thinks about him and what he liked. you're abundant, and you felt it was important to share that abundance with the ones you loved. speaking of, your relationship with Ethan reached a point where he was offered an internship within your family's business; which lead to the both of you heading back to the mall, helping Ethan pick which suit he should wear to the interview.
and, of course, Ethan is on his knees, eating you out in the dressing room because he is just so grateful. getting stains all over his button-up as your juices drip down his chin and run down his neck. whatever, you were going to buy it for him anyways.
       .·:*¨༺♱༻¨*:·.
buy me a coffee ૮⸝⸝> ̫ >⸝ ა
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