Steve Harrington holds Eddie Munson’s face in the palms of his hands, as if he is trying to make sure to commit every single scar and dip of Eddie into his memory. (He is.)

He allows himself a moment, allows the tips of his fingers to dip down along the cut that runs along Eddie’s cheek. Follows the dip of it with his pinky, swirls down to brush against the edge of Eddie’s bottom lip. He watches, enamored, as the tip of Eddie’s tongue flicks out to touch the pad of his finger- before dark eyes blink open to meet his.

Eddie Munson allows himself a moment to watch as Steve Harrington stares down at him, cradling his face in his palms. He takes a moment himself, allows himself to scan his eyes over the freckles and moles that are dotted along Steve’s skin like tiny kisses.

He lets his eyes coast down Steve’s jaw, allows them to follow the curl and curve of the healing pink cut that is looped around his neck. Imagines what it would be like to press his mouth in a kiss to the skin there, imagines and hopes. Yearns.

It’s quiet, in the hospital room.

Eddie and Steve say nothing, even as Steve presses his thumbs in against the swell of Eddie’s cheeks a little firmer. As if he is scared that Eddie will slip out from between his fingers. (He is.)

Eddie says nothing, even as Steve frees one of his hands to press the call button for a nurse. Even as Steve manages to murmur something, something that Eddie wishes he could’ve heard- but instead he just watches. Imagines. Hopes. Yearns.

When Steve turns to catch Eddie’s eyes with his own, Eddie feels like he is coming home.

When Eddie’s eyes are captured by Steve’s, Steve feels like he has just woken from a deep slumber.

Eddie smiles— and imagines, hopes, yearns.

Steve smiles— and is completely enamored.

Eddie is the one to break the silence, even as the hospital room’s door is pushed open by a nurse.

“Hey there, big boy.”

moony zoomy can i pwease have your thots abt swissphantom they mean sm to meee <3

lately i’ve been thinking about ant getting sick for the first time topside and while on tour and just how miserable they’d feel and how swiss would instantly be in mama mode

emetophobia warning below the cut

ant wakes up feeling gross, everything hurts and they’d do anything to crawl back into their bunk and cry out all the pain

they drag themself through the day much quieter than usual, trying to hide their wince at every movement. the ritual is hell and it takes everything in them to not collapse on stage into a messy sobbing ball of ghoul, their joints scream at them, their skin prickling with sweat under the heavy stage lights despite how cold they feel

swiss’ hand finds their back once they make it off stage, ant tries to not flinch away from the contact to their already hypersensitive self

“just gotta make it to the hotel, bug” swiss whispers into their hair, planting a kiss along with his words

they give a small nod in response, brain too exhausted to find any words

ant sticks themself to swiss’ side throughout the car ride, headphones on, hoodie pulled tight in an attempt to block out as much noise as possible. swiss wraps an arm around them as they curl into his chest

the second their hotel door shuts behind them ant lets their glamour drop with an exhausted sigh, tail immediately wrapping around their own leg

a wave of nausea rolls over them and they make a b line to the bathroom

they’re vaguely aware of swiss behind them as they collapse in front of the toilet, gaging loudly and painfully as the contents of their stomach come back up. they’re not sure how long they spend in front of the toilet, swiss feels his heart break with each defeated whimper and cry that comes out of ant

“im dying” they whine, stomach cramping again as the seemingly never ending foul bile fills their mouth again

“oh baby” swiss rubs small circles onto their back, “it’ll be over soon, we’ll get you cleaned up and we can have a sleep. you’re being so strong, bug”

ant doesn’t feel strong as they let out yet another sob, too tired to fight their body to keep their sounds to themself

at some point swiss gets up and grabs a wet wash cloth to cool the back of ants neck, it helps, their entire body is on fire. by the time their stomach settles they feel disgusting, face wet with tears, body covered in a layer of sticky sweat and a gross taste residing in their mouth

swiss places a kiss on their shoulder, they’re sure they look as bad as they feel but when they meet swiss’ eye hes still smiling at them like they’re the most beautiful creature on earth

“you ready to get cleaned up?”

ant nods weakly

“okay do you want me to help or you think you can do it on your own?”

they don’t give a verbal response but their tail wraps around swiss’ forearm and that’s as much as he needs to help the small ghoul to their feet

there’s so much love in swiss’ actions that ant feels like they’re being swallowed with it. he holds their face gently to brush their teeth, he scratches lightly at their scalp as he’s washing their hair, gives them a slight squeeze as he’s drying them off

swiss dresses them in all his own clothes, grey boxers and an old souvenir aquarium shirt from a date with rainy many years ago, they’re both well worn and hang loosely off of ants much smaller frame but they’re soft and smell like swiss so they have no complaints

ant curls around swiss once they’re in bed, resting their head on chest, the spade of their tail slips between their lips and they nibble on the thick skin. swiss wraps an arm around their waist and carefully massages their still aching stomach

swiss loads up a movie for some white noise, ants brain is too foggy to figure out what it is. they’re engulfed in swiss’ scent as sleep slowly starts to drift then away

he smells like coffee and woodsmoke

he smells warm and strong

he smells like home

Been thinking about Mr Chancellor Roderick again lately and, god, he really is probably the most consistent blorbo ever HUH.

Why do I say things like this. Like what was the need. Why do I feel the need to jinx myself. What was the reason.

“Surfs up. Hail Satan.”

It really wasn't as bad as Fat Gum seemed to think. The wild, joyous yell could hardly be heard over the rushing whoosh of the tidal wave sweeping through the city street--which, on second thought was probably what Gum was truly distressed about, not the wiry teenager riding the wave balanced on an uprooted street sign against all odds, crying at the sky, "Surf's up! Hail Satan!" 

Then again, the teenager in question was Eijiro's intern, which could kind of make him responsible.

Hail Satan. 

Live on the news.

Plus the property damage.

And the villain had gotten away.

So, alright, maybe it was bad.

"I already had a talk with him," Eijiro assured his former mentor. "Explained why that behavior wasn't manly." 

He hadn't known about "Hail Satan" being broadcast at the time of that talk, but words had been had.  Proper procedure and lessons on teamwork had been (re)explained. That had to count for something. 

Fat Gum rewound and played the news clip for the third time. Hail Satan. Not the most heroic image.

Eijiro should have just let Hang Ten be recruited to Shoto's agency.  He had gotten blinded when the kid had talked about what a Red Riot fan he was when he was highlighted during the Sports Festival.

"He told me you talked to him at the beginning of patrol too." Fat Gum spoke too carefully and still oozed enough disapproval that Eijiro was left wracking his brain to think of what he had done wrong.

"I usually do? Make small talk that is. Check in on the interns' lives."  He couldn't remember anything remarkable about the conversation at the beginning of the shift. 

"You were complaining about your friend's latest interview? How a soundbite was making the rounds out of context?"

Ah. Eijiro remembered that. Though it wasn't the out of context part that was really infuriating.  The Bakubro had technically told the man giving the interview to open his stomach, take out his small intestine, jump rope with it, and DIE --which really was more like friendly banter when you listened to the exchanges that surrounded it.

That was a normal Saturday. Suck on some car exhaust and die. Dance off the roof of a tall building and die. Dynamight was known to be a little hostile toward the press, and the reputation was deserved. What really got to Eijiro though was that the part of the interview where Katsuki had declared himself "gayer than Best Jeanist's acid washed retro age costume" was what was getting more attention--and not in the way where everyone was as proud of his bravery as Eijiro or lining up to throw their sons and brothers at him. 

"I might have mentioned something," Eijiro admitted cautiously. Had Hang Ten complained?  He guessed it wasn't very cool to vent to the interns about personal stuff, but if the kid had a problem hearing the opinion that Dynamight should be getting more support for coming out, well, Eijiro was going to try to not think too hard about any upsetting implication before he knew more. Jumping to conclusions wasn't very manly.

"He seemed to think it was his duty to get the media attention off of Dynamight."

"Oh." Fat Gum still looked serious, but now Eijiro was having trouble not smiling.

"It's not funny."

Hail Satan. That was a little funny.

"No, but it's hero behavior, being a protector," Eijiro decided the best way to deal with his smiling problem was to stop trying to hold back. He knew how to pick them. Loyal. Altruistic. The kid was going to make good. Well, once he got a little more fine control over his tidal wave. 

There was a moment of silent consideration, then  Fat Gum smiled too. "The agency has a history of attracting quality interns. Has done so for years."

Crisis maybe not technically averted, but all seemed well enough, understanding reached and the promise of a good resolution. 

That was until Hang Ten passed by the outside of the window, body surfing.

The third story window. 

Then he crashed through the lobby.

Eijiro prayed for the power and the patience to get the little deliquent in line.

Hail Satan.

No way was Eijiro that much trouble when he was younger.

Figured out a way to lock my entire Ao3 account! Hopefully I didn’t glitch anything out of existence.

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚

the tension between you and miguel rises to an all-time high —a ficlet featuring a grumpy miguel and a flirty, distracted spider-girl. pre across the spider-verse but contains spoilers. fem!reader, 1k

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Miguel has asked you multiple times to leave him alone while he's working. The strike force can't run itself (or so he claims —Margo and Lyla seem plenty capable, in your eyes) and he needs time and solitude to organise the protection of canon events, and—

"Blah, blah, blah," you say, dropping your voice to a soft, teasing melody as you skirt around his frankly audaciously jacked chest. 

"Don't blah, blah, blah me," Miguel says. You'd be intimidated if you weren't so happy to mess with him. "I'm not kidding around." 

Okay, maybe you are intimidated. That just makes messing with him more fun. 

The room he operates from, as you've so fondly monikered The Office, is in organised chaos, and much too dark. You drag a lone chair toward his control panel and set yourself down in front of all his screens and computers. 

"Ooh," you hum, reaching for an unlabelled switch with a purposeful slowness. 

Predictably, Miguel slams his hand over yours, yanking your chair back with an annoyed, "No." 

"Come on, Miguel. What harm could I possibly do?"

"You could–" 

"Topple the multiverse?" you suggest. "I've heard." 

"You could turn off every member of the Society's DMW. That's what that does. Potentially endangering each of their lives by stranding them in unfamiliar dimensions, and preventing them from correcting canon events." 

You feel bad for teasing him when you see the look on his face, anger and exhaustion and the slimmest allowance of defeat. It must be tough to lead the Spider-Society. Tougher to micromanage more than half of its members. 

Pulling your hand from under his, you cross your arms over your stomach and give him an apologetic frown. "Sorry, Miguel."

Evidence of his sweet spot for you lines his expression, softening his sharp jaw and the stoic set of his brow. It's gone as quick as it came, and his mask falls back into place. He turns away from you as though pretending you aren't there and scans one of his holographic screens, his face glowing with a yellow-orange haze. 

Miguel has to tolerate you, because you're a Spider-Girl. Though you've never called yourself that aloud, and you're not sure anyone else has, either, it's an undeniable truth. You were bitten by a radioactive spider that gave you super mutant abilities, though yours aren't as potent as others. You're not especially strong, you probably couldn't stop a bus with your bare hands, but you're smart. You haven't saved the world or anything, but you lost your Uncle Ben. You paid the toll. 

Every spider person has lost someone. Miguel seems to have lost more than that. 

"You know," you mumble, kicking the ground lightly to make your chair spin on its axle, "I've been thinking…" 

"That's never good." 

"Why do we wear our suits here?" you ask, spinning for a second time, the room moving past your eyes in flashes. "It seems performative." 

"Ah, I can answer that. Some of us work when we're here." 

You wrinkle your nose at his deadpan and kick the floor again, spinning so fast it makes you laugh. "What did you say? I can't hear you from your high horse– woah!" 

Miguel grabs the back of your chair, bringing you to a sudden and firm stop. You blink hoping it'll assuage the dizziness between your eyes, and when it doesn't work you keel forward, muttering, "Woah, I'm gonna die." 

"You won't die." 

"How do you know?" you ask. 

"You're under my watch, aren't you?" 

"I knew you liked me," you say. "Oh, I don't feel well." 

"You brought it on yourself." 

You catch your breath. When you feel okay enough to stand you almost trip, and Miguel doesn't bother pretending that he had any intention of stopping you from landing flat on your face. The you before the spider bite would've wiped out. This you giggles and holds Miguel's elbow for a second while you plant your feet. 

"Okay, boss-man," you ask, looking up at the unnaturally high screen he's investigating. "What are we doing today?" 

"I'm supervising a task force operation on Earth-31913. You're going home." 

"Miguel," you say, not sure if you want to flirt with him or piss him off. He looks incredibly pissed off already, so you choose flirtation. "Have I told you how handsome you look this evening?" 

He doesn't react. His hands don't so much as shift where they're akimbo on his hips. 

"You really have the most handsome eyes," you continue, weaving around his arm to stand in front of him. You have to crane your neck to see them. "Sulky. Do I really have to go home? I'd rather stay here with you." 

He looks down his nose at you. "Yeah?" he asks quietly, his voice rough as hewn stone.

"Yeah," you say, taking a small step back. 

"And do what?" 

You mirror his stance, hands on your hips. Your suit isn't form fitting like his, doesn't showcase nearly so much lean muscle, but you like it. You'd chosen a simple black ensemble to match the spider who bit you with a pinky purple heart over your stomach. Miguel had asked about it once, just once, when you'd first met and he had no idea how much of a problem for him you were going to become. 

Why there? 

Why do you think? you'd asked, giving him a sticky-sweet smile. 

Forget I asked. 

He lifts a hand to your chin, pinching it between two deft fingers. You're lucky he isn't wearing his gloves; his claws would pierce your jaw. 

"What do you want to do?" he asks, again so quietly. "If you stay?" 

"I could help with the task force." 

"That's what you want to do?" 

You flush with heat but refuse to let him know how you're feeling. Your heart bumps against your ribs, breath caught in your throat as he tilts your head up, as he leans down. 

"No," he says near your lips, "that's not it." 

"I could help you?" you offer. 

Something flashes in his eyes. You hesitate to call it lust. It reminds you of a cat with a mouse in it’s clutches, only his pupils are blown, black and inky and wide as dimes. 

"You want to help me?" he asks, his lips an inch, half of that from yours. 

You nod minutely. "Yes," you say under your breath. 

His hand moves to your cheek. He leans in closer and closer, until there's a hair's width of air between his mouth and yours, the tips of your noses bent together. His breath fans over your bottom lip and it's hot. You swear you can feel his heart as his chest presses to yours. He lingers there for an endless handful of seconds, silently egging you on.

You call his bluff and refuse to close the distance. 

Miguel pushes you away from him, far from cruel but certainly not sweet. "I have a tower of paperwork you can file," he says. 

"Here I thought you were finally going to bite my head off," you hum. "You're a sore loser, Miguel." 

"And you're my pest," he says, holding your gaze for a half-second too long. He turns away. "Lyla? Arrange the recounts from the last canon event for Spider-Girl's perusal, please." 

"So you've remembered I'm here?" Lyla asks wryly.

You don't mind the paperwork. You sign each one with a winky face and a pink gel pen heart, knowing Miguel will go over them all again, and knowing he'll grow angrier and angrier with each heart.

He'll kiss you and mean it one day. You just have to play the waiting game.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thanks so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed!

I can’t stop thinking of demon! Adam going through development and reaching the point of like,, doing something nice without anyone telling him to do it, purely for the sake of doing it. Something he never would have done before. Even if it’s something as small as sitting down with you while you’re watching your favorite movie or show and not shitting on it the whole time, just to keep you company. Or something like that. I dunno. I’m just a sucker for slow burn subtextual romance.

THAT, and the reader seeing his face beneath the mask, looking him the eyes, and smiling a little. Even if they say nothing. I feel like that would stick with him.

Exactly. Demon!Adam lives in my head rent free now. I know this weren't a request of sorts but I kinda wrote something for this

random ficlet below

Demon!Adam x GN!reader (Fluff)

DemonSinner!Adam is something that plays on my mind a lot. He still doesn’t believe in the whole redemption shit that Charlie is laying down but if it gets him a glimpse of seeing heaven again he is willing to try.

-----

Adam was bored and needed something to do that would put off the inevitable “therapy” session with Lucifer’s brat later. So that must be why he finds himself outside your room. He knocks lightly on your door. You didn’t answer, he knocked again louder this time. Still no answer. So he opens the door and peers in.

“Hey errr (Y/n) Charlie asked me to check on you.” A blatant lie but he won’t tell you that.

He sees you’re watching TV.

“Huh? What no shitty nickname this time?” You mumbled around a mouthful of popcorn. Adam walks over and flops down on the couch next to you.

“Oh yeah, nah I didn’t really feel like it.” He grabs a handful of your popcorn.

You quirk a brow.

“Also Charlie said nooo giving nicknames to people that demean them and also who don’t want it and people were given names to be used blah blah blah.” He shoves the popcorn into his mouth. “So what are we watchin?”

“I'm watching a movie I really like so if you're staying either shut up or fuck off.” You sink back into your blanket cocoon.

*10 minutes later*

“What the fuck! This guy clearly likes her but she goes for the other bozo. Is she blind . . . . as well as ya know hot.”

You choke on your drink. You didn’t think that this would be his kinda thing but here he was emotionally invested in the film you had picked. You had really wanted to just wallow in your depression by binge watching trashy romcoms but what was really making you feel better was watching the ‘dickmaster’ himself rooting for the underdog to open up about his feelings to the lead woman.

You go to grab some popcorn but see the bowl is empty.

“Gotta pause.” You go to stand but he stops you.

“I got this.” He hides the good deed by quickly saying “And I need to piss anyway.” You pass him the bowl.

“Not in the popcorn I hope.” You rearrange yourself back in your blanket burrito.

“HAA, You nasty but don’t watch without me. Coz that is a dick move.”

“You know all about those.” You mutter into the blanket. But Adam had gone to the hotel kitchen to make popcorn.

You chose to scroll on your phone until he got back. There were a few messages but you didn’t really feel like answering them. You flop on your side. You can always move when he came back.

While you waited in silence for Adam. You think back on how he really was getting better. After seeing him slowly open up to Charlie’s ideas and seeing that he can be a good guy when it suits him. You smile to yourself.

Your door slams open.

“Okay I’m back bitch.”

Nevermind looks like he has thrown up his walls again.

He lays out the armful of snacks and the bowl of popcorn that looks way bigger than the bowl he left with. He sees you on your side.

“You comfy down there?”

You groan and slowly sit up again. He sits back down but wraps an arm around you and hugs you into his side and nothing more.

“Okay we can continue now.” He grabs the popcorn and rests it on his lap.

You set the movie going again and snuggle just a little bit closer. For popcorn reasons of course not that Adam was nice and warm and you felt safe next to him.

“Clearly she don’t know a good thing when she sees it.” You pipe up after about three minutes into the film again. You had seen this film so many times but there was one scene that always brought out annoyance in you.

“Right!! She needs to open her eyes this guy clearly loves her for who they are and not some fake ass bs that other . . . what?” Adam stops mid-sentence looking down at you resting against his chest.

You blink a few times before realising you are staring “Huh oh nothing.”

You focus back on the screen in front of you.

The climatic end of the film was approaching and the main lead were confessing their love and as the credits role you can here someone crying. You glance up and see Adam wiping away tears.

“You okay.” You sit up and reach for the tissues on the table to hand them to him.

“What!!! I’m fine. Of course I’m fiiiine. Shut up bitch.” He grabs the tissue box from you.

“If it helps I cried the first time I watched this movie.” You wrap the blankets tighter around yourself.

“I . . . ah . . shit.” He saw you curling further in on yourself. He feels guilt crawling into his stomach. “Sorry, I’m . . .Ugh. Look I’m bad at these feel your feelings crap that Charlie spouts. But it was a good film and yeah I cried but . . .”

“It don’t make you any less of a man.”

“Yeeeah I know. Of course I know. I’m the first man.”

“Huh back to that are we.” You bump shoulders with him, making him laugh.

He pulls you back into his side “So what are we watching now?”

------

I really didn't mean for this to be as long as it was. I'm sorry

dw's 2023 year in review

Another year gone.

Amidst all of the chaos, fandom has remained an oasis of calm and joy for me. Thank you to all of you, the readers and writers and artists, who keep this place alive. Wishing you a happy and healthy new year.

I wasn't very productive this year. But I tried.

Completed Fics:

Nothing to Celebrate

Sherlock Holmes is back from the dead. Things only get worse from there.

Ficlets:

After the Storm - A coda to Whirlwind.

Distraction - John and Sherlock are held captive by someone with a taste for violence. For John, it hits a little too close to home.

WIPs begun posting in 2023:

Time in a Bottle

"You never asked me to make him love you back. That's always one of the first things that someone asks me, you know. 'Make him fall in love.' 'Make her love me.' 'Make him return my feelings.' 'Make him want me.' Blah, blah, blah, on and on and on. But you didn't do that. Neither did he."

This is a story of seven wishes.

One wasted wish, five wishes that changed the world, and one wish that changed nothing at all.

_____

Would anyone else like to share their progress this year?

@calaisreno @thetimemoves @khorazir @lololollywrites @naefelldaurk @johnwatso @arwamachine @totallysilvergirl @bakerstmel and anyone else who sees this and wants to play along?

this started out just as a cute little idea but turned into a little poorly written ficlet ish thing? that i might try to turn into a real fic... found family story for kara involving sam, ruby, and a bookshop.

au where kara crash lands in midvale as an adult. eliza discovers her wandering around the town looking lost and looking very much like an alien, so she takes kara. she encourages kara to stay in the house for now, at least until she learns how to better assimilate to earth's culture, because the public doesn't know about the existence of aliens like she (a high level scientist) does. it's for kara's own safety that she has to stay locked away, eliza explains as kara's cabin fever makes her more and more restless. one day, she hands kara a book. "this is your way to explore new worlds for now within the safety of this home."

but kara can't explore the new worlds because she can't read. eliza teachers her a little, but she's so busy with work that she can't help kara as much as she needs--and the standoffish alex, whose job similarly pulls her out of the house at all hours, certainly won't help kara. eliza gave her a thin sheet of paper to use as a bookmark--a receipt, she'd called it--but the scrap is good as useless when kara can't make any progress in the book to mark anyways.

she's home alone and fed up trying to understand the words when she sneaks out one day. she wanders the streets and sees a welcoming looking shop. there are letters on the front--ruby's reads--and kara realizes with a start that those are the same letters she's seen at the top of her bookmark! surely that's a good sign!

she heads into the store. a kind-looking woman greets her from the register, but kara doesn't acknowledge her. she's too distracted by the bright display of children's books in the back. she makes her way back there, grabs the most colorful cover, and plops herself down on the carpet.

"hi!" she hears someone say.

she turns--a few feet away from her, hidden from the view of the front door by a bookshelf, is a kid. she looks like the woman at the register but much younger.

"h-hello."

"i loved that book! it's such a good choice. who are you buying it for?"

kara hesitates. "um... me?"

the child makes a face kara can't decipher before shrugging, scooching closer to her.

kara stares at the page, hoping the girl will go away if she ignores her. she tries her best to decipher the words, bringing the page up close to her eyes like that might help.

"the whole series is great," the girl says. "i prefer the second one over this one though, actually. have you read that one yet?"

kara stares blankly at her.

"what do you think of janie? isn't she so brave in this chapter?"

kara tentatively shifts her gaze back to the page. "janie..." she whispers, trying to locate where that sound's letters are on the page.

she feels the girl staring at her. she's uncomfortable but also so desperate to read. curiosity soon gets the best of her. "c-can you..." she shoves the book towards the girl.

"oh, do you want me to put it back and get the second one for you?"

kara shakes her head vigorously. "um, no, um.... can you... read it? to me?"

"out loud?"

anyways i'm running out of steam here but basically ruby reads to kara and kara starts sneaking out for it every day. sam makes her and ruby snacks and soon ruby teaches kara how to read, never asking why a grown up like her can't read. the cashier who's sometimes there--nia, kara learns her name is--recommends some books for them when they run out of middle grade books, blah blah blah etc etc etc

one day alex runs through the doors of the store panting. uh oh, she shouldn't be here, she should be at work? "have you seen a blonde--" she starts panting, before she sees kara and runs over.

"kara, what are you doing! shit, come on, we need to leave--" alex looks up at sam as she ushers kara to her feet-- "sorry about her, we'll--"

"no need to apologize! we've grown quite fond of kara here!"

blah blah blah plot plot plot basically kara spends so much time there that sam, ruby, and nia become her friends. she learns how to read. alex starts spending time there with kara too, at first to ensure the safety but eventually bc she likes it (but she'd never admit that). blah blah blah agentreign starts.

one day sam's friend from out of town stops by and walks through the door. kara turns at the sound to see who's entering and promptly drops her book. and her jaw. and her dignity.

it is the most beautiful woman she's ever seen.

the woman turns to face her now, she must've been started by the sound of the book dropping, and--

they make eye contact.

"h-hi," kara says.

"hi," the woman breathes.

end fic

Disclaimer! This blog knows ‘isreal’ is a violent genocidal colonizing entity, and supports Ukraine. Block immediately if you don’t. This blog is run by a radical leftist and queer person.

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Hai, I’m Maxwell! I use it/he/they pronouns in (order of preference) and I write about a bunch of weird guys.

My main fandoms are worm, and call of duty. If you’re here for one kind of content, feel free to block the tags for the others. Miss a fandom? Bother me about it!

my inbox is open for ideas, requests, blah blah, and you can find my writing in #writing or #snippet. Send me 🎲 for something from my wip pile! #askme is all my answered asks.

I write dark stories and enjoy a lot of messed up themes, so remember to stay safe and ask me to tag things if you need it. Don’t like, don’t read. My nsfw tag is #notsafeforworkers

blanket permission to be inspired by anything I post or write just please share it with me 💖

If you’re not a fan of that, don’t bother telling me, you’re free to leave. I’m not a fan of discourse in general I’m too sleepy to argue with people

I’ve posted eight works on supernatural, 0 for worm, 0 for cod on AO3. But i’ve posted a lot of drabbles and other such writing on here for COD and a ficlet series is underway. All two worm fans, my drafts are full.

alright time to write an essay detailing whatever yaoi has done to my girl nancy wheeler. so like, even when it comes to yaoi shippers nancy has had stonathan, harringrove, AND steddie over four seasons with steddie already having massive popularity + the other shippers, wheras thankfully eleven only has to deal with byler shippers when it comes to the victimization. but not to diminish eleven any more because she has def gone through it in fandom, im going to get into nancy's stuff: you will notice all three ships she supposedly gets in the way of (ignoring jargyle because the shippers are chill in my experience) involve steve harrington, AKA the most popular character if i had to guess and the white boy of the month. see, they were dating at one point in s1 and s2. the breakup was messy. like he kinda was complicit in her slutshaming at one point and didnt let her grieve her dead best friend properly and she ambiguously (as in nobody can fucking decide when the break up was) cheated on him so yeah. messy. mutually. if not more on steve's side given he was a bit of an asshole in s1-2 but gets better. yadda yadda fast forward to harringrove in particular, AKA steve x the guy who attacked a black child and abused his younger sibling (and im not attacking anyone thats just. what happened). basically 90% of them try to convince people nancy is abusive for the two arguments that occurred and is a slut and privileged (never mind steve being probably the most well off member of the main cast + hes a white guy in the 80s) blah blah blah. also ironic they call her abusive OFTEN when billy (one half of harringrove) kinda like threatens his sister max and breaks her things and otherwise abuses her Often. but yeah. they hate her for breaking his heart. they hate her for getting in the wya of their ship possibly. they hate her in general. add that to the general fandom misogyny and suddenly a large number of people are writing essays about how much they hate her and how she's a piece of shit, actually. fast forward to s4 and steddie and a new problem arises: steddie shippers keep flooding her character and ship tags with primarily steddie. so now your options regarding her are mlm ships and mlm shippers shitting on her. also keep in mind there is now more content for half of that ship, a guy who shows up for an hour and dies in the same season, than nancy, a mc. and if you like nancy ships like jancy or ronance, too bad those tags are flooded as well. as in someone did analytics in august for ronance i think and at one point the majority of main pairings in the ronance ao3 tags itself was steddie. either way both ships usually end up as side ships or bait into a steddie centric fic or tumblr post. or nancy ends up third wheeling and getting them together. as a nice bonus (not really) recently steddie shippers have decided that they too hate nancy and have entire posts and common plots (i have seen tumblr ficlets/hc's and people discussing this as a common trope for steddie fics on ao3) about how nancy was a horrible person who damaged steve's self esteem and ability to be in a relationship or something from a break up, as if the relationship wasnt mutually harmful and compounded by nancy's whole dead best and possibly only friend thing. and whoops for ships like ronance that isnt allowed either because steve's friend isn't allowed to interact with his ex despite the fact that said friend literally said he was an ass in the s1-2 timeline. all of this making it impossible to find any positive content without it being interrupted for a character who, if i remember correctly, has almost as much screentime as eleven (and eleven at least has popular fan content and other ships that dont somehow loop around to byler/mike). and whats worse is that while canon doesnt have yaoi victimization it does have heteronormative bullshit in which she is forced into a love triangle with the same guys TWO TIMES. she literally cant win so let her win a poll maybe also sorry this is super fucking long <3

Whoooo Nancy

On my phone, blah, but WOO! Two more Lies of P fic then we are at 10. I feel like 20 is where things start to get spicy, then 30 is like "yeah this is just going to keep going."

I don't think I'll ever beat out Persona 5 on my dashboard, but a huge part of this is because I used to write more drabbles and ficlets under 1k. Which is great! I'm just writing longer stuff now, which is also great.

Either way: woooo!

Ideas for stories and such...

I'm a bit overwhelmed with plot bunnies right now, and I think writing them all out is the best way to get 'em all straight. So... here are a few ideas for future fics I'd want to write. I dunno which one(s) I should focus on first...

Assassin’s Creed Valhalla

A Saga Most Ordinary : I have ideas for two more chapters, one about Eivor playing Dungeons and Dragons with the three Good Boys, along with Hytham, Randvi and Tewdwr, and another about her and Valka Staging An Intervention because she thinks Sigurd went and joined some cult because of his new girlfriend (ie Fulke).

Untitled/maybe it’ll just be chapter two of an existing fic, I dunno: A new companion piece/sequel of sorts to ‘Nornir's Curse, Nótt's Counsel’ about Randvi and Valdis just hanging out (on the beach while their respective spouses watch over the young ‘uns) and talking about their (rather similar, really) lives.

Dishonored

Take Your Silver Spoon (Dig Your Grave) : A two-shot about two bastard-born princesses of the Kaldwin line. Part of it is already written, I just need to get off my ass and do something about it lol

You and Me and The Leviathan Makes Three : An AU where Daud survives the events of DoTO, and Billie is stuck trying to find new purpose in her life while teaching a god-turned-boy how to Human and a suicidal old man how to… not be a total wreck of a person . Oh, and the Abbey of the Everyman is falling apart all around them (which makes the Boysider happy, since his two newfound biggest goals in life are 1) to destroy organized religion and 2) to save the whales. Every chapter would be set in a different isle, with titles based on sea shanties.

Dracula

Untitled : A little one-shot about how Drac might have gotten to Mina on the night of October 3rd. Because the details are kinda hazy on that, right?

Final Fantasy XVI

The Tale of the Telamonides : Before the mission to Drake’s Head, Mid shows up to the Hideout to Bring Chaos and Shenanigans to everyone’s live. Because I was sad that we never did see her interact with Cid.

Gravity Falls

Dungeons and Dummies : …I need to finish this you guys, I already have it all planned out. I feel weirdly anxious about this story, mostly because I don’t happen to have the whole of the rules of D&D stamped in my brain (shocking, I know). It’s like I’m afraid I’ll have someone go, ‘hey, that’s not how it goes in the Player Handbook, page so-and-so blah blah blah ’ so I don’t even try, you know?? It’s a weird thing.

The Awesome Mixtape of the Apocalypse: A story where Dipper and Mabel’s parents join both sets of twins on a roadtrip to Gravity Falls. The concept would be that Mabel made a mixtape with songs for everyone in her family (so for example Ford definitely gets weird prog rock like this, listen my dad was a happier, most well-adjusted Ford, and that was his shit, car trips in my family were trippy), with each character represented by a particular musical style (the Pines mom’s got punk ska like Reel Big Fish and Streetlight Manifesto lol…) and each chapter corresponding to one song. I got every big story beat and character moment planned out, I just… need to get off my ass and write, I guess.

Horizon Zero Dawn/Forbidden West

Untitled : Aka Aloy watches Varl and Zo together, gets confused/frustrated, and shares a convo with Erend that helps her figure out she’s asexual. Sweet!

Untitled Rost and Ersa fic : Rost and Ersa, as ghosts, hang around Aloy and Erend for the events of the first game (and have a mini ship war about the merits of Ereloy as a couple). Also known as ‘Rost Gets Another Grumpy Daughter Because These Are Sure Fun To Collect Or Something’.

Mass Effect

Untitled : Just a little Shakarian ficlet about Shepard listening to Thane’s story about how he met his wife after the events in Garrus’ loyalty mission and her being like, oh, oh boy, oh no.

Radiant Historia

Will You Learn to Love (Without Consuming): A little one-shot set in the Apocrypha ‘verse which is not compliant with the canon shown in Perfect Chronology. Basically my take on who became the big Mana Monster causing the desertification (and why he’s a foil to both Heiss and the Conuts Guy).

Déjà Vécu : A one-short about Ernst and Heinrich (and, by association, Stocke and Heiss) because I guess that’s what I always write about in this damn fandom.

This Sweet Corrupting Reality : Basically the only parallel history I would have liked to see in Perfect Chronology, that is, Stocke wakes up and realizes he is now King Ernst of Granorg.

Okay so I wanted to like. Explain what I plan on doing going forward? As far as participating in this fandom goes. Essentially, I'm trying to do it more but I've been Busy As Hell lately with moving and a 9-5 and blah blah blah. You get it. The thing is I've never really been a long form fic writer anyway but now more than ever a lot of the stuff I write for turtle is short form. Usually just little detailed scenes that do not have any wider context what so ever. But again I still wanna post something. Which is why I decided to start like a lil series thing? I'm calling them Dust Bunnies and they'll range from full ficlets, to drabbles, to little scenes that are an indeterminate amount of words. And just to be clear. They won’t necessarily include Usagi. I mean he’ll be in a lot of them because I adore him and he is The Blorbo from my shows. But really Dust Bunnies just felt appropriate and matches my “””branding”””

They’ll be much more connected by ethos than content. Which boils down to me not restricting what these can or can’t be. They’ll still have some polish but I won’t be bothering much with things like connective story tissue or world building. They’ll be the ideas/wips that pop into my head and must be written down but will only expand as far as that initial burst of inspiration gets me. Anything I have to wait for or agonize over isn’t getting written down. That means they could end suddenly too (we’ll see if my perfectionism will allow me that tho) and also means that several of these first ones will likely be story ideas I’ve had sitting in my drafts for a good long while. Which. It’ll be good to get those out there.

Each one will also be numbered! So this first AU ficlet will be Dust Bunnies #1. Sometimes they’ll get titles too but they’ll always be numbered. And! That’s it! This was probably too long of a post for just… explaining my future posts but. I’m like this. I cannot help it.

Could I get a fic of modern day Ganga Trio doing something like playing a video game or going shopping?

Delivered! Below the cut you'll find the Three Sages as housemates in a modern AU, two-thirds shopping and one-third video games. (btw if you haven’t seen it I did also write Vueko, Belaf and Irumyuui doing groceries once. This is definitely not in the same continuity as that for a few reasons, ex. I have a role in mind for Waz in that one that's definitely not 'goofy housemate', but if I start naming specific differences I'll go rambling.) Anyway since I can't help myself this 'ficlet' is not a ficlet it's 2k words lol. Hope you enjoy!

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

“Hmm…let’s see…this thing’s big, huh, Vueko?” So saying, Wazukyan worked his fingers underneath the edge of the long, flat box, lifting it a little from where it lay on the floor. A moment before, he had haphazardly slid the thing out from the big warehouse shelf, with Vueko spotting him and guiding the package with her hands as needed. And now it was on the floor, but where it needed to be on their trolley-cart-thing. 

Wazukyan was in a crouching position next to the box, looking up at her, which felt a little off to Vueko – she was used to her older housemate looking benignly down on her from the lofty heights. “Alright, careful not to pinch your fingers as you get a hold of the other end of this thingy.” 

Vueko did her best to oblige, chewing her lip as she carefully maneuvered her hand underneath the other end of the heavy box. “Now let’s do a ‘team lift’ just like these little guys in the drawing, on the count of three.” (Vueko stared at the tiny figures drawn on the box – they had funny, angular faces with cute little smiles.) “And, oh!” – with oh, Wazukyan made one of his habitual open-mouthed faces. It was a bit silly looking…alright, it was very silly looking. “Remember to use your knees, not your back! Hurting yourself would be no good, hey? One, two…three!”

Vueko did her best to lift with her knees, and they rose up to a standing position together. “Fueh. Arg. Uh, but now I can’t see where the trolley cart thing is…”

“Got a good grip?” 

“Yeah, it’s just a little awkward to hold. Wait – wait, Wazukyan, the cart–!” Nudged by a corner of the package or one of their legs, it had started to roll away. Without thinking, Vueko stuck out a hand to hold it in place – and her remaining hand couldn’t keep a grip on the suddenly-heavy cardboard package. It went slipping inexorably out of her grip. 

Vueko dropped her end. It promptly landed on her foot. “Fuheyouch!” she yelped.

“Ah! Oop,” said Wazukyan as he set his end down onto the floor slowly. “Dropped it, huh? Well, the particleboard stuff they use is sturdier than it sounds, it’ll be fine. No harm done!”

“I dropped it on my toes,” said Vueko, trying not to sound too miserable.

“Oh. Some harm done, huh…” Wazukyan frowned sympathetically and they both looked down at Vueko’s left foot. It was sneaker-clad and did not look any different for having been Ikea’d on.

“...Vueroeruko, Wazukyan, what are you two doing?” They both looked up to see Belaf standing nearby. Clearly he had been coming to meet them at the checkout area (a few dozen feet beyond the warehouse section) like they had discussed beforehand, and spotted their antics on the way. He was giving them one of his trademark Belaf Stares -- intense, slightly quizzical – and had his arms crossed primly on his chest. 

He also had a large stuffed shark shoved under one elbow. 

“Belaf, what is that?” said Wazukyan.

“That’s a – uh – Blahaj,” said Vueko immediately. She gave her best shot at pronouncing Blahaj, having only seen it in text. Blah-hodge. “I saw it on the internet.” She was standing on one foot now and leaning on the trolley cart thing. 

“Indeed! It is a Blåhaj,” said Belaf. He said it something like blue-hai. It was Belaf, so that meant this was the right way to say it.

“Ooooh. Found yourself a cute little friend?” said Wazukyan, grinning widely.

“I simply thought this would be a pleasant and versatile item to have around the house. Look,” said Belaf. He took the blue-hai and wrapped it around his neck like a travel pillow. “Ergonomic neck support. Good for the spine and skull. Or when you’re sitting down –” He put the blue-hai around his waist from behind. “Lower back support. It’s the perfect shape. I’m thinking of practicality, that’s all.” 

“And the fact it’s a cute animal has nothing to do with it, I’m sure,” said Wazukyan, in indulgent of-course-there’s-tea-in-Teddy’s-cup tones. Belaf pressed his lips together in slight offense and held the Blåhaj a little closer, as though it might be taken away. Vueko couldn’t help smiling a little.

“...anyway, I will pay for the Blåhaj, of course. But let’s still go through the checkout together as planned. I will Venmo you.”

“I’ll go splitsies with you on the bl…bloj….the shark,” Vueko piped up. “So I can use it as a pillow and stuff too. If that’s okay with you?” 

Wazukyan waved his hand dismissively. “We’ll all take collective responsibility for paying for Belaf’s blodge. It’ll be nice for everyone, I’m sure. Just like these shelves are going to be for everybody’s extra stuff.” He knelt down to thump the package, which was still on the floor where they had left it after it attacked Vueko’s foot. “But, ah, Belaf, will you help me get this in the cart?”

Vueko flushed, ashamed – she wasn’t helping anymore? She should be helping – but then Wazukyan looked at her and winked. “I mean, of course I know you could do it, Vueko, but we have to make Belaf do some work sometimes, eh?”

“Of course I am happy to help, Wazukyan,” said Belaf, through only slightly gritted teeth. He handed the stuffed shark to Vueko, who was quite happy to hold on to it. 

—--------------------------------------------------

“Vueroeruko, you have that part upside down,” said Belaf, tapping a portion of the instructions for their new shelf. 

“Oh. Oops.” Vueko turned over the thing – a little plastic button meant to cover visible screws – and indeed, it suddenly fit better. “Sorry.”

“No harm done. I think…” He squinted at the last page of instructions. “I think we’re about finished.” 

“Wow, hard work! Great job, everyone,” said Wazukyan, clapping his hands together. “Now how should we reward ourselves?”

“Wazukyan, you did not help very much,” said Belaf flatly.

Vueko was always a little in awe of the way Belaf spoke to Wazukyan so bluntly. It was technically his house, after all – but then, the two of them had been friends for a long time, before Vueko had met either of them and certainly long before the trio had hitting upon this living arrangement. 

Actually, they had all been friends, the three of them, for quite a while now. Several years which, sometimes, felt curiously like eons…

Wazukyan had not been listening. “You know what we haven’t done in a while? Mario Kart.” 

“What? Wait, Jomi didn’t take his consoles with him?”

“He took a few, the ones with sentimental value, but sold off a lot. He went overseas, you know – can’t be lugging every old big blocky thing! I got him to leave me the N64 for old time’s sake. Let me go get the thing plugged in…” Wazukyan opened a cabinet and pulled out a gaming console, which Vueko assumed was the Nintendo in question.

Belaf looked at the console, wrinkled his eyebrows briefly, and then scooted a little closer to Vueko and spoke in a lowered voice. “You know,” he muttered, as much to himself as to her, “I was just thinking about saying to him ‘Aren’t you too much of an old man for video games?’ But then I thought about when that console came out and how much younger he was then, and of course we were too, and…” He passed his hand over his face. “And then I realized how long ago the 90s were and now I feel old.” 

Vueko nodded sadly in commiseration. “Aw. Yeah. But you’re not old, Belaf.”

“Thanks, Vueroeruko…you know, one of my students called me a ‘boomer’ the other day. He wasn’t even trying to tease me, but…” Belaf made a heart-clutching gesture.

Wazukyan was oblivious to this little exchange. “Vueko! Have you ever played Mario Kart with us? Hmm, maybe not. I think that was mostly me and Jomi’s thing, but we got Belaf to join in once in a while.” 

“The 64’s been packed away for a bit. It predates Vueroeruko a little, I think. Uh, not, like, as a person, since she’s not a….teen…ager…. ” Belaf put a hand to his chin as he clearly did some mental math, and Vueko watched his face become very interesting as he realized people born after the N64 came out might well be old enough to have finished graduate school. “...augh…ah, anyway, I just mean we probably haven’t played it much during the time period we’ve known her, and certainly not at any point since she moved in.”

“And that’s the only one we had Mario Kart on…you really never played it, Vueko?” said Wazukyan.

“Oh. Yeah, I don’t think I did. I might have played it as a kid, at a friend’s or something, but, um, I don’t know if I remember how…” Vueko stood up from the floor. “Why don’t you two just play? I don’t want you to have to show me…”

“Nonsense,” said Belaf, at the same time Wazukyan said, “Nah, nah!” The two men looked at each other. 

“Jinx,” said Wazukyan.

“That– that’s not how a jinx–…never mind, you go ahead,” said Belaf, rubbing his face again.

Wazukyan turned back to Vueko. “Come on. It’s going to be a lot more fun if you join! Hey, maybe beginner’s luck will be on your side and you’ll wipe the floor with us.”

“Fheh…I don’t know how likely that is…” Vueko was looking at her own fingernails, fiddling with them. 

“You’ll never know until you try, huh? Oh, good, looks like this thing still works…”

—----------------

“I…I won again!” Vueko leaned forward in her blanket cocoon on the middle of the couch – she was so warm and so comfy. She watched Yoshi blaze across the finish line.

“You are absolutely vicious with those shells, Vueroeruko,” Belaf murmured beside her. Vueko couldn’t quite see him – she was well and truly cocooned inside of her blanket, with her face, hands, and controller peeking out. But she knew him well enough to picture his face, the crease of consternation forming on his brow. 

“Good, good!” she heard Wazukyan say on her other side. She could picture him too – smiling benignly as she absolutely wiped the floor with him. “What did I tell you about beginner’s luck? Let’s go again…” 

They arrived at the select screen. Yoshi was adorable, so Vueko did not bother changing her selection. (“I’m picking Peach this time,” said Wazukyan. “If I can’t win, at least I can be pretty.” At which Belaf made a strangled noise.) 

She sat back on the couch, feeling her friends’ warm bodies on either side. There was an additional lump which she recognized after a moment as Belaf's new shark friend. This was so nice…Sometimes she still felt like something was missing. Someone, perhaps. But there was a sense that this too, if she waited, would come right again…

“Are you still planning to start your volunteer work this weekend, Vueko?” said Wazukyan, setting down the controller.“That thing, helping take care of kids? I’m not sure I understood what you’ll be doing exactly…”

“Oh. Yeah,” Vueko said, startled out of her thoughts. She nudged her way forward out of the blanket a bit so she could speak with Wazukyan more easily. “Um, it’s with children who don’t have a, uh, consistent caretaker or mentor figure in their life and, like, have been in and out of the, uh, like…”

Wazukyan waved a hand to indicate he didn’t need a full explanation. “That should be good for you.” He looked oddly knowing now, a bit distant – he made that face sometimes, usually when he was about to be right about something. “You’re good with kids, and some of them could really use someone like you in their life…” 

“Yeah.” Vueko hoped he was right this time too. She wasn’t sure how much good she’d been able to do, but she had felt drawn to the opportunity when she heard about it. So drawn that it was a little strange – it was like something was pulling her as though she were a compass needle.

“If they have video games there, you can beat all of them at Mario Kart to break the ice,” said Belaf, and Vueko smiled. She snuggled back in the blanket and thought about how happy, how lucky she was to have such good friends, to live in such bliss, after the tumult of her childhood and the dark times she didn’t like to think about. Safe and surrounded by people she trusted. She wondered if things might somehow get even better, if it was possible for her life to gain more blessings…but perhaps that was greedy of her. 

For now, she would settle for winning another round of Mario Kart.