#blue pumpkin bullshit
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So this pic manages to be dangerous in two separate ways.
1) Please do not out your kids as autistic without their informed consent, especially for sweeties.
This is literally telling a predator, in a confusing situation, that your kid might well be easier for them to target. Plus giving out private medical information about your kid when it is not needed is not okay. That stuff sticks around and may impact on them in other places.
The colour blue is also linked to Autism Speaks, a eugenicist organisation that actively funds research to identify and abort autistic foetuses.
2) The Teal Pumpkin project is a scheme for people *giving out* treats to signify they have treats without marked allergens or non-food treats available for kids with allergies. They put one by the door and keep the treats inside one indoors to limit cross-contamination with other treats.
This is positive because it’s about including kids with allergies in the festival *without* giving out their private medical information.
The fact that this has already confused this really excellent project was exactly what a lot of adult autistic activists warned would happen when we asked people NOT to do the blue bucket thing 🤬
#autistic#autistic children#autistic adult#blue pumpkin bullshit#disableism#disableist#ableism#teal pumpkin project#halloween
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(CW: Cringe, Autism Parents stuff, drunk mention, infantilization)
So I don't have a degree in Graphic Design, but I do have a sense of general aesthetic. I figured that it's April. Let's rate, and potentially verbally tear apart and drag through the mud, some autism shirts and graphic designs, and I'll probably do a part 2, these scores are only semi-arbitrary:
First up is this:
Already off the top, I am confusion because it seems to read "I wear puzzle cousin autism awareness". Sounds like whoever made this was drunk.
Puzzle pieces, ew.
The red, yellow, green, and blue look like the shades you'd see in elementary school, so that seems pretty infantilizing.
Autism Awareness, I am very much aware of my existence.
Final Score: 0 out of 10. Designer, go home; you're drunk.
Next we have this:
This one already has a slight advantage over the first because it's at least coherent in terms of the message.
Elementary school colors, but make it extra tacky.
Puzzle pieces; don't try to bullshit me by putting the autism awareness banner over it, I can see the other indents that make them puzzle pieces.
Once again, I am well aware of my own existence.
At least it's a smaller design.
Final Score: 0.5 out of 10, and that's being generous.
Next one's not a shirt, but it still counts:
No blue so thank God for that.
This is up to personal preference, but to me, the person-first language is giving "I need to be reminded that someone is a person."
Puzzle pieces. Ew. Don't BS me, I can see them.
Walk down Autism Lane. (it's right below the word LOVE) Sorry, but we don't allow ableists on Autism Lane; you need to be a premium member and to be a premium member, you need to not be a dick.
The pumpkin disturbs me for some reason, and not in the Halloween way; I mean, it just straight-up disturbs me.
Final Score: 0.5 out of 10. Bury it in a shallow grave.
Just found this one:
It's easy on the eyes at least.
No tacky elementary school colors.
No puzzle pieces.
The bunny's cute, but this also seems very infantilizing.
Person first language is a no for me.
Why are all of the is lowercase, but the others are uppercase?
Final Score: 5 out of 10. Not great, but not terrible.
Here we have simple:
Elementary school colors, but credit where credit's due; it's not terrible on the eyes.
Why is blessed on there three times?
One big-ass puzzle piece.
"Autism blesses" Yes, because being bullied by my peers, being indirectly told who I am is wrong, having the worst time making friends, always feeling like I'm never truly part of a friend group, being confused when some adults got mad at me, not having anyone to play with at 4 years old is an absolute fucking blessing. /s And that's the tip of the iceberg.
"Fun", "Sweet", "Cute".....it's the infantilization for me.
Final Score: 3 out of 10. No further elaboration.
Then there's this monstrosity:
I call this color Patronizing Paraprofessional Blue, aka the tackiest shade of blue ever.
It looks like something one of those older white suburban millennial moms would wear. Like something a Karen would wear to one of those autism walks or one of those social skills teachers who talk in that slowed-down patronizing kindergarten teacher tone with that fake-ass smile, no matter how old you are. You know the one I'm talking about, right? Yeah, they'd wear this.
Puzzle piece. Light It Up Blue. Ew.
We all know what organization this supports.
Final Score: -10 out of 10. Burn it.
Let's get in a good one to counter that abomination of a shirt and end part one on a higher note:
Nice simple design with a black background.
No tacky elementary school colors.
Identity-first language.
Really counters the....what the fuck would it be called? The UwU autism parent thing? ("I am his voice, he is my heart," "See the able, not the label," etc,.) It counters that.
The light sparkle around "a bitch" is chef's kiss.
Final Score: 11 out of 10. Perfection.
#autism awareness#autism acceptance#autism#autistic#actually autistic#actuallyautistic#sweet and savage autistic
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after hours (part 3)
☆ pairing: toji fushiguro x afab!reader, satoru gojo x afab!reader
☆ summary: the parent teacher night conference is here and you finally realize how popular toji is with all the women in megumi's school. good thing you're the only one who goes home with toji at the end of the day.
☆ tags: modernAU, babysitterAU
☆ warnings: 18+ !! MINORS DNI! dirty talk, foreplay, slight power dynamic, and more dirty talk.
☆ a/n: 3/3 on mentioning jacob elordi in this series should i kms 🤭 anyway this was only partial smut but i promise you toji is going to dick y/n down in the next chapter so hard (ᵔ.ᵔ) so get read for it 😈 also i'm rly liking where the story is going esp for toji x gojo x y/n ahhhh ( •̀ᴗ•́ )و ̑̑
🖤🤍 series masterlist 🤍🖤
“c’mon guys, i really need to figure out which outfit to wear!” you plead to shoko and utahime, while holding up a black jumpsuit on one hand and a black cocktail dress on the other. shoko and utahime are currently too busy building and decorating their joint animal crossing island to really pay attention to any of your bullshit (and you know it) but you cannot help but feel a bit anxious for tonight. you wanted to look good for dinner and toji, but also professional and respectable for the parent teacher conference.
utahime turns to you and frowns. “i just don’t think either of those are good, if i’m being honest…” she trails off. “i mean, who wears a cocktail dress to a parent teacher conference?”
shoko also turns around and sees the black cocktail dress and eyes it carefully, before finally recognizing it. “i’ve literally seen you wear that to a frat party and now you’re considering wearing that megumi’s school?” she questioned, looking skeptically at the dress.
“okay, so jumpsuit it is.” you say, heading back to your room. you pair the black jumpsuit with some layered dainty gold necklaces and rings and a pair of slightly dirty yet reliable white sneakers with your favorite pair of frilly socks with bow ties on them. you decide to leave your hair down with all its natural curls and grab your bag. you quickly send a text to toji before heading out:
y/n: heading out soon, cya in 8 🤍
you say goodbye to shoko and utahime, still engrossed in trying to make their cottagecore witch themed island of their dreams, and drive over to toji’s house. you’re not entirely sure when you started to feel anxious, but by the time you pull up to toji’s driveway, it takes everything in you to not hurl out your insides the minute you open your car door.
c’mon y/n, you’ve babysat here hundreds of times. why’s this any time different? well for starters, toji ate you out last time. your very poor pep talk barely made you get out of the car and ring toji’s doorbell. you bite your lip and tuck your hair behind you ears, wondering if toji will say something regretful about the time you spent together last night.
sure you aren’t that emotionally attached to him by any means, but you would be lying if you said you wouldn’t feel hurt if he says something along the lines of “this was a mistake”. your thoughts are interrupted by the door finally opening, and coming face to face with toji. your eyes millk in the sight of him, and your breath is quite literally taken away. you think you’ve never seen him clean up this nice, as he’s wearing a crisp navy blue shirt and a pair dark slim pants. fuck me.
“h-hey toji,” you say, greeting him with a slight smile.
"hey, pumpkin," he says, grabbing your arm and pulling you in. he closes the door, and you walk inside. before you know it, toji grabs your arms and swings you around to face him, your body flush against his chest. you squeak at the quick movement and before you can understand what is happening, toji's lips crash into yours. you're taken by surprise, but you immediately melt into his kiss, all your anxiety evaporating.
you stand on your tippy toes and wrap your arms around his neck, moaning into the kiss. you wish there was a way to press your lips even closer to toji's, mimicking the movement of his lips while you tried to ignore how soaked your panties were even though the night just started.
toji leans down and grips your ass tightly and picks you up. almost on instinct, you wrap your legs around his hips, slightly rocking them into his torso while he lightly presses you up against the wall. god, he could just take you right here, right now.
he feels your hips rocking onto him, breaks off the kiss, leaving you whining for more. "already looking for some action?" he teases.
you don't even have a good response for him because he's right: you are looking for some action. down there if you're being specific. and you don't care that he started it first. you nod a pathetic "mhmm" and throw your head back as he leans in to lick your neck and mark his territory. you don't even care that everyone would be able to see the hickey toji is leaving if it meant he didn't stop what he was doing.
"alright, keep holding onto me, pumpkin. i wanna touch you..." toji trails off, as he lets one hand off your ass. your legs remain wrapped tightly around his waist, and your breaths get shorter and louder as his fingers trail up from your hips to your chest. wait, has toji never touched your tits before?
your brain doesn't get a chance to ponder on the thought when toji gives your tits a harsh squeeze and you illicit an almost inappropriately long sigh, trying your hardest to contain your volume. toji groans, loving the response that just his hands over your clothed chest has on you. he gives your hardened buds the attention they craved, pinching and playing with them, as you started to beg toji for more.
"please, please, you know this isn't enough for me~" you complain, squeezing your legs even tighter against his waist. at this point, you were pathetically humping his waist, desperately trying to get some friction in the area you needed it the most.
toji responds by pushing you harder against the wall, your head rolling back as the sensitive buds on your chest sent electricity all throughout your body. if you weren't horny before, you sure are now.
you're about to ask (read: beg) toji to unzip your jumpsuit, when you and toji both hear little pitter patter footsteps coming down the stairs. megumi.
toji immediately shifts you back on to the floor, and you smooth out your jumpsuit and hair while toji adjusts the tent in his pants. you're still trying to regulate your breathing when megumi comes down the stairs. his eyes wild with excitement when he sees you and dashes towards you for a hug.
"megumiii" you greet him cheerfully, your arms open for a hug. you've always had a soft spot for this kid, and you pick him up when he approaches. god, he's getting bigger and bigger each day, you think as you realize he's heavier than he was when you first started babysitting him. "how was your dayyyy" you say in a sing song voice.
"it was fine...yuji brought his fruit scented markers to class today and i used the grossest flavored marker to draw on yuta's face during nap time." he says so unbothered that your jaw drops.
"umm...wow...okay...so that's a lot. i thought we talked about drawing on yuta's face during nap time." you frown. you remember when you were babysitting megumi a few weeks ago when the landline got a call from school about megumi getting in trouble and yuta crying because his face smelled bad. poor kid.
"i know but this time this new girl, nobara, dared me to do it, i had to!" he defends, as you put him down. you watch as toji chuckles at how fond the two of you are. he sighs with content and kneels down to help megumi put on his shoes.
"we'll talk about this later but peer pressure is never any good." you lecture as you hold the door open for megumi and toji. you lock eyes with toji, and he mouths a thank you before taking over and locking the door.
toji helps megumi get into his range rover while you hop into the passenger seat. you quickly check your phone and see two texts:
shoko: how's stepmomming going? me n utahime are scamming children on discord for mushroom diy recipes :)
satoru: ugh that girl who i was supposed to hook up w tn just bailed on me should i kms?
you quickly send a response to shoko that you were on the way to the restaurant and to be nice to the children, and open satoru's message and give it a thumbs up reaction. you're determined to have no distractions tonight.
toji takes you and megumi to a nice, but not too fancy, sushi place downtown, nearby megumi's school. over dinner, you hear megumi talk more about his friendship with yuji, which warms your heart. throughout dinner, you and toji sneak glances and smiles with one another, and you feel like a high schooler again.
you notice between conversations with megumi that toji has been nonstop staring at the tv screen behind you, and you quickly take a turn to see it’s the collegiate basketball game taking place.
“i didn’t know you were into basketball, toji.” you muse, never pegging him as someone who would enjoy watching sports in general. you get no response from toji — it’s almost like he didn’t hear you while his eyes were glued to the screen.
“toji. toji! TOJI!” you snap, in front of his face, finally getting his attention. “what’s going on, dude, talk to me.” you ask, confused as to why his expression turned scornful when your home team missed a three pointer.
“oh, sorry. i got really into the game, my bad pumpkin.” he says, eyes still glued to the screen. “just gimme a quick minute, i’ve got some money i’ve bet on our team tonight…” he trails off, quickly shooting you a forced grin before zoning out at the tv again.
you’re a bit irked that he’s paying more attention to the game than you and megumi but you let it slide. why would he bet on a stupid basketball game anyway, you think.
you and megumi make small talk while you help him eat his dragon roll before the game finishes and and toji rejoins the table mentally. you hear him groan in frustration before shooting off a quick text. poor guy probably lost his bet. “anyway, what did i miss? sorry about that, guys.”
“nothing!” megumi chirps, before slightly frowning. “also…i can’t finish my dragon roll anymore, daddy. can you help?”
“of course, kiddo.” toji grins, before taking a napkin and wiping soy sauce off of megumi’s face.
“oh my god, you’re soooo babygirl,” you unexpectedly say. you have no idea where that came from, but you mean it. seeing any soft side of a big man like toji just has your heart melt into a puddle.
toji raises an eyebrow, while chewing his son’s unfinished dragon roll pieces. "the fuck does that mean?” he says through bites. he’s not totally offended by it -- more so intrigued than anything else.
“i dunno, it’s like when big built guys like you are soft on the inside, you know. it’s just…cute. it’s babygirl.” you laugh, while explaining. you cannot believe you’re having this conversation with toji, but you can’t believe it even more when he laughs.
“then i guess i’m your babygirl, pumpkin.” he winks at you, inadvertently making your heart skip a beat.
all three of you share pleasantries for the rest of the dinner, the topics ranging from toji losing his bet in the basketball game to megumi trying to convince his dad to get pet dogs. when the waiter comes out with the check, toji reaches in his pockets to retrieve his wallet, only to find it empty.
"oh shit, my bad. i think i left my wallet at home." toji apologizes to the waiter and you. "gah, that's what being a single parents does to you, i guess..." he trails off, making you feel bad for him.
"it's okay, i'll grab it!" you say, covering for dinner. you recall toji promising you dinner yesterday, and you also recall your friends making fun of his broke ass and find yourself holding back a laugh at the situation you're in. god, maybe he is a gigolo, you think as you sign off on the bill and head out to the parent teacher night.
megumi’s school is close enough to walk to, so all three of you are able to take a nice stroll in the heart of the city. as you approach megumi’s fancy private school (where does toji get the money to even pay tuition for this place?), you start shivering as the cool autumn breeze starts to get stronger. you wish you had brought something heavier than this cardigan but toji immediately notices, and wordlessly starts taking off his coat and wrapping it around your shoulders.
“oh! toji, you didn’t -“ you start, feeling immediately less cold, partially due to toji’s sweater and partially due to your face heating up at toji’s actions.
“don’t worry about it, pumpkin,” toji says, pulling you closer and leaning close to ear. “you can pay me back once we get home,” he whispers in a low voice, and you swallow, trying to maintain your composure as you walk into the school.
megumi immediately finds nobara and yuji messing around in the hallways and runs to join them. you feel the warmth of toji’s arms around you disappear and you frown.
“gimme a second, i gotta talk to one of the dads here real quick…” toji mumbles, seeming displeased about having to speak with this person.
“everything okay?” you ask.
��uh…yeah. remember how i lost the basketball bet. well…he’s who i lost to.” toji sighs, giving the man a nod as he sulks towards him. you keep your eyes on toji as he seemed crankier than usual talk to the man about the basketball game. wait, where did he get the money to pay up? didn’t he say he forgot his wallet?
your thoughts are interrupted by irritating snickers and high pitched jeers coming a couple yards away from you. you turn to see a group of five or so older women (perhaps they were around toji’s age?) avoiding eye contact with you (but miserably failing). you’re not sure but you think you hear one of them say something along the lines of “that’s the gold digger megumi’s dad is dating now” and “i saw them kissing last night and she was barely wearing a skirt”.
you really try hard to not laugh, but you accidentally let out a snort loud enough for them to hear. gold digger? if only they knew you had to cover for toji today during dinner, and that he hadn’t paid you in a week. ugh, fuck you really should get on that.
trying to avoid eavesdropping on what these insecure women were saying about you, you pull out your phone and check your texts, and see one from satoru:
saturo: do u think u would get off to step mom porn more or less now that you fucked toji?
oh my god, how many times do you have to tell this guy you didn’t fuck toji…yet. you start typing a lengthy response about the inappropriate text, when you’re interrupted by one of the women tapping your shoulder.
“hi!” she chirps with conspicuous artificial delight. “i know it’s all the rage in your age to go thrifting, but you look really unprofessional coming to school here wearing that oversized piece of garbage.” her smile is dripping with poison.
“i’ll be sure to let toji know you think about his coat. thanks.” you respond stoically before making eye contact with toji and marching towards him.
“those ladies bothering you, pumpkin?” toji muses, ruffling your hair slightly.
“nothing i can’t handle,” you wink.
“toji, you may step inside the classroom!” megumi’s teacher calls from the homeroom door. toji motions for you to come with him and you do, not sure why you’re feeling a bit anxious about meeting megumi’s teacher. is she going to say something about how much you let megumi watch euphoria? what if you’re teaching him multiplication incorrectly, even though you’re an excellent student? your thoughts are immediately put at bay when, three minutes into the meeting with megumi’s teacher, you realize she has not looked at your or addressed you even once.
in fact, she’s only looking at toji. not just looking at him, she’s full on flirting with him.
“oh, toji stop it!” she laughs when toji says he doesn’t do much when helping megumi with his homework. “you’re sooo funny!” you can’t even focus on anything she’s saying about megumi’s performance in his classes. all you're focused on is how she always needs to be touching toji somewhere when talking to him — his arms, his shoulders, and (this one you had to commend her for pulling off) lightly grazing his thigh when he sat down.
“how does he interact with the other kids?” you ask, thinking of poor yuta.
megumi’s teacher completely ignores you and pretends you didn’t ask anything, and proceeds to “accidentally” “drop” all of her notes on the floor. she bends over to reach them while abruptly stopping a couple feet from toji, and makes a show of apologizing while her pencil skirt hugs her ass. “oh my god, i can be so clumsy sometimes,” she apologizes.
you do everything in your power to not burst out laughing at how absurd this night is, starting from the the group of women outside the hall to megumi’s own teacher. you make a mental note to tease toji about how popular he is with the moms and teachers at school. meanwhile, toji is off staring at the classroom decorations, smiling specifically at megumi’s artwork that’s being displayed on the wall. he’s so engrossed in it and other similar classroom art that he doesn’t even hear how the teacher moans pornographically when she sits down and takes off her pencil heels, saying “these shoes are just killing my feet, toji…”
“oh uh, okay. that sucks. anything pressing about my son or can we go now?” toji says, finally paying attention to megumi’s teacher. he snakes his arm around your waist, pulling your closer into him, and you take in his warmth.
“o-oh yeah. no it’s fine, i hope to see you again tomorrow when you pick him up,” she says with anticipation.
“um, yeah. okay, um. bye!” toji remarks, clearly not catching onto any innuendos or deeper meanings behind anything she’s saying.
you and toji walk out of the classroom and you immediately stifle a laugh. “woooow, everyone is just sooo obsessed with you here~” you joke. “megumi’s teacher was totally hitting on you!”
“oh yeah, i know. she’s been hitting on me since the beginning of the school year,” he says, taking you by surprise. “why, pumpkin? you jealous?” he says as he squeezes you hips.
“oh really? you just…didn’t seem to care…” you say, intrigued. you look up at him, searching for some answers but he just shrugs.
“not my type, really.”
you raise your eyebrows, not even realizing when you start giggling. you probably shouldn’t say what you’re going to say next but you can’t help it. “well, who is your type?” you ask coyly.
“let me just show you,” toji says and grabs your jaw with his large hand and kisses you square in the mouth, in front of everyone in the hallway. albeit, the only people who actually cared were the group of women who were jeering at you earlier in the night and you think you hear them gasp. you smile into the kiss, resulting in toji chuckling. “let’s go, yeah?”
you nod, and get megumi from his friends and all three of you shuffle back to toji’s range rover. the minute you get in, you crank the seat warmer setting to high, trying not to shiver so loudly.
megumi immediately starts talking. “i had so much fun with nobara and yuji!” he says excitedly.
“yeah? what did you kiddos talk about?” toji asks, backing out of the parking lot. god he looks so hot while driving. he has one hand on the wheel and the other hand resting softly on your thigh. you lace your fingers with his and squeeze. he squeezes back and you feel butterflies.
“we talked about euphoria!” he yells with excitement. you stop squeezing toji's hand and your jaw drops. you’re at a loss for words. what the hell are these kids doing watching euphoria? “nobara told us to watch it, and that guy on euphoria is soooo tall did you know? super tall just like your friend that came over a couple weeks ago, remember y/n? the one who was super tall and was wearing glasses and had white ha-“
“ohhh-kayyy megumi, thank you so much for that recap”, you say nervously, absolutely dreading asking megumi ever about his recap of the night. you sneak a glance at toji and see him smirking. suddenly, you were not shivering anymore and the car was actually really hot. “y-you shouldn’t be watching that show, you know.” you say, trying to change the topic.
“who was this guy that came over? i wanna hear more about that,” toji teases, sneaking a quick glance at you before his eyes return to the road.
“he’s no one, i swear. he just dropped off some pain meds for me from when i got my wisdom teeth removed,” you say. it’s the truth, too. you literally asked satoru to be discrete when dropping off the medicine he picked up for you for this exact reason but he kept on trying to see the house because “no one broke could afford this place”. you don’t want to be known as that babysitter that brings a guy over when the parents are out, especially if that parent is toji. and especially if nothing happened.
toji smirks at how defensive you're getting, trying to go above and beyond to show that you were only his. to be quite honest, it was turning him on and he slams on the gas a bit harder to get home faster. toji pulls up to the driveway of his home and opens the garage, and megumi immediately opens the car door and sprints to the bathroom, while the both you chuckle at how cute he is.
“so this guy...he your boyfriend or somethin', pumpkin?”, toji jokes.
“what if i said yes to that, huh? would you ask me to go home?” you press, cracking a slight smile.
toji doesn’t think it’s funny. he thinks it’s fucking hilarious. his hands touch your thigh and start roaming upwards. “absolutely not pumpkin. i’d wanna know if you guys fucked in my house.” your breath hitches and you swallow.
“w-we didn’t, i swear,” you start, trying to control your breathing and not fold when toji digs his fingers into your inner thigh.
“hm, a shame. would’ve loved to seen your back getting blown out from the security cams…” he trails off, squeezing your inner thigh and forcing your leg to open a bit more. even though you’re still fully clothed, you feel exposed by the action, and unintentionally shift your hips slightly which earns a smirk from toji. he leans even closer to you and whispers in your ear, “it would’ve been my new favorite porno. i'd jerk off to it every chance i got.”
this time, you audibly moan. you don’t even care that his dirty talk involves you getting your back blown by satoru. you don't care that you would enthusiastically get your back blown out by satoru if it meant toji would be watching. the thought of him seeing you in such a vulnerable exposing position just turns you on even more, and you suddenly need him. “just take me right now, please. i’ll do anything,” you plead, leaning towards toji for a kiss.
“oh, i know you will do anything pumpkin.” toji coos, leaning back and stopping your kiss inches before you reach his lips by snaking his hand around your neck, applying the slightest bit of pressure. your breath hitches and you muster a weak "please".
“let’s get inside first, pumpkin.”
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu toji#jjk toji#jujutsu kaisen toji#toji fushiguro#toji fushigro x reader#toji x reader#toji zenin#dilf toji#fushiguro toji#jjk modern au#jjk smut#toji smut#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#megumi fushiguro#jjk megumi#toji x y/n#toji x you#toji fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro x you#toji fushiguro x y/n#toji fushiguro smut#jjk fan fiction
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A Gallavich tale, told 100 words at a time.
-------------------
A man jumped into the back seat of Ian’s car.
“You a driver?” Dark hair, one small piece of luggage.
“Yeah, only if you’re registered on the app.”
“Screw the app. Take me to Nashville.”
Ian choked on his Gatorade. “That’s eight hours from here.”
“So?”
“You gotta plan these things out. Get matched with the right driver.”
“It’s not like I knew that my fucking boyfriend was gonna run off to fucking Yee-Haw Land to elope with my sworn enemy.”
Ian checked the rearview and saw pain behind those angry blue eyes. He switched his app status to OCCUPIED.
---
Ian took the entrance ramp onto I-90. They should arrive in Nashville around … oh, 3:37 AM.
“I have an emergency kit.” Ian nodded with his chin. “Under the seat. A few comforts in case you need ’em.”
The passenger shuffled through the insulated bag. “Boxed juice. Granola bars. Fucking gummy bears, man? This is childhood stuff. You got any Jack Daniels?”
Ian felt a spark of disobedience. “I’ve got a few joints in the glove box.” This was definitely off-book behavior, but it felt right. “They come with a price.”
“What’s that, Jeeves?”
“You’ve gotta tell me your whole story.”
---
The dark-haired passenger scoffed. “You don’t look like you’ve got the stomach to get caught up on my bullshit.”
“Try me.”
“Whatever. Fuckin’ sadist.” He settled into his seat. “You ain’t wearing a wire, right?”
“Not today.”
“All right, so, you ever heard of Berry Buds?”
“Those stuffed animals in the shape of fruit? Don’t people use those to smuggle coke?”
The guy raised an eyebrow. “You too delicate to hear about crime, pumpkin? There’s murder, too. Betrayal. And a pair of pink flamingos.”
“Wait, back up. You forgot the most important part. What’s your name?”
The passenger only smiled.
---
Man, this passenger could talk. Ian heard an hour’s worth of Milkovich family crimes.
Milkovich.
Ian didn’t know the guy’s first name. Only how passionate he was, the excitement in his voice.
“So Iggy launched the box of M-80s into the river, right, and this long-legged yahoo waltzes up.” Milkovich paused. “Wait, did you just yawn? If it’s such a chore to listen, I can fuckin’ stop.”
Ian made eye contact in the rearview mirror. “I was promised murder. A boyfriend.”
Milkovich slunk in his seat. “Keith.” All his passion faded to pain. “Yeah … guess I can talk about him.”
---
“Keith is …” Milkovich seeped with defeat and anger. “He’s the first person who saw me as more than a thug. We met at the liquor store. Been together seventeen months. I thought we were long-term, you know? Then he starts spending time at clubs. Digging into the scene. I don’t give a fuck if he does coke to let off steam. But he keeps getting it from the same guy. Real tall motherfucker. White-blond hair. Wears sweater vests.”
“Northside prick.”
“Oh, you know this guy?”
Ian had seen plenty of club action. He hardened in solidarity. “I know the type.”
---
“Anyways, that’s how I realized my piece-of-shit boyfriend is marrying fancy-pants Logan Covington, the motherfucker who snipes our business and has led the biggest anti-Milkovich smear campaign this side of Michigan.” The passenger let out a sigh. He slowed for the first time in an hour. “Shoulda known by that haircut. He came home looking like a walking Ken doll.”
“So, wait.” Ian sorted through the complicated story threads. “Are you going to kill your boyfriend?”
“No, man, keep up. I want to get him back.” He leaned forward, laying his hand on Ian’s shoulder. “And you’re gonna help me.”
---
Ian scoffed. “Don’t rope me into your drama.”
“Come on, man. We show up at the chapel, tell Keith I’m dating you now, let the jealousy unfold.”
Unbelievable. Ian shouldn’t even consider the offer. He had a ton to do this weekend. But Milkovich was obviously hurting.
Ian scratched his chin. “And I’d be on the clock the whole time?”
“What, you scared to do it? You a homophobe or something?”
“I’m gay.”
Milkovich stared, hard. He looked Ian up and down. “You never mentioned that.” He gave a coy smirk.
Ian felt a shot of electricity. “You never asked.”
---
The Silver Diner in Lafayette, Indiana bustled with activity.
Milkovich talked over the sizzling grill. “Still don’t know why we stopped here.”
“Can’t think on an empty stomach.” Ian flagged the waitress.
Jolene smiled, leaned into the booth. “Order’s coming right up, sugarpot.” She touched Ian’s arm as she left.
Milkovich frowned. “That shit happen to you a lot?”
“What?”
“Chicks waving their boobs in your face.”
“I don’t really notice.” But Milkovich noticed. Interesting.
“It’s good, actually. We can use it in our plan. People find you attractive.”
“You think I’m pretty?”
He rolled his eyes. “Didn’t say me.”
---
Milkovich rolled a coin across the diner table. “You see that? Table's tilted by a degree-and-a-half. Cheap off-balance pedestal leg. I’d have used a trestle instead.”
Huh. This guy’s shoulders relaxed when he talked about normal stuff.
“The key with builds like this…” The guy was smart. Layered. Funny. And his eyes twinkled when he geeked out about construction, apparently.
Ian was finding new ways to be awed each minute.
“…at least shim the motherfucker because…”
Ian interrupted. “I’m in.”
“Huh?”
“Your plan? I guess can pretend to like you.”
Ian’s stomach swooped. Pretend might not be the right word.
---
“Seriously, you’ll do it?” Milkovich raised an eyebrow. “Okay, lay it on me. Tell me everything about you.”
Ian enjoyed sharing his details. “I’m one of six kids. Two sisters, three brothers. Wait, you’re not writing this down? You’re gonna memorize all this shit?”
The guy leaned forward, intense, piercing. He traced his finger around Ian’s wrist. “We’re chained now. I’ll remember everything about you.”
This was absurd, but the guy seemed dead serious.
Ian felt goosebumps. He took charge and matched the guy’s intensity. “Then tell me your first name.”
A quick tongue flick. The guy nodded. “It’s Mickey.”
---
Turns out, scheming and joking with Mickey was easier than breathing. Ian drummed on the table. “Okay, how’d we meet? I gave you a ride somewhere?”
“And then I rode you.” Mickey laughed. “Simple enough. How about second date?”
Ian’s inner romantic spun into action. “A rooftop picnic. You brought snacks and whiskey.”
“Hm. Doesn’t sound like me.”
“I brought a tire iron and gun because I didn’t trust you.”
Mickey smirked, like these lies were becoming reality in his head. “Wise man.”
Ian swelled. His weekend suddenly had purpose. He’d be the best fake boyfriend in the goddamn world.
---
They hit the john before they got back on the road. Pissed in outdated urinals, washed their hands.
Ian watched Mickey closely. Every turn, every strut, every smirk. That’s how he noticed that Mickey flinched when the hand dryer shot to life.
“Mickey Milkovich.” Ian laughed. “You can dump a mob boss in the Chicago River but you’re afraid of a little hot air?”
“It’s fucking startling.”
Mickey paused in the doorway. Tilted his head. Looked up at Ian. “Keith … he never noticed that about me.”
Ian elbowed him, defusing his sadness. “I’m going to learn all your secrets, boyfriend.”
---
Around midnight, the rhythm of repeating street lights on Interstate 65 lulled Ian toward sleep.
“Can I ask you a question?” Mickey looked damn relaxed, too. Seat leaned back. Legs stretched out. Talking in a low voice. “Let’s say I blew this.”
“Not gonna happen.”
“Say I end up alone. Do I deserve that?”
Ian could certainly judge. He’d heard about Mickey’s crimes, his family, his dating history.
He wanted to hold Mickey’s hand. He wanted to find the right words to remedy this hurt.
“Mickey, you are the most –”
A bang. A crash. Ian’s face smashed into the airbag.
---
Ian took inventory. He was conscious. Neck pain. Bleeding nose.
He scrambled to unfasten his seatbelt. To wave away the airbag dust.
He pawed at Mickey’s leg, arm, chest. “Are you okay?”
“I’m scraped up.” Mickey coughed. “What happened?”
“Someone clipped our bumper. We spun out. Hit the guardrail. I was out of control.”
“Why are you pulling on my eye?”
Ian lowered his hand. “Checking for a concussion.” He tried to steady his breath, calm his panic. “I’m sorry. I let you down.”
Mickey set his injured hand on Ian’s, offering shaky reassurance. “Better than being worm food, man.”
---
The cops had come and gone. Reality settled in. Ian’s car was undriveable. They were stranded.
Mickey’s anxiety spiked. “How the hell am I getting to the wedding now?” He paced along the shoulder, pointing at Ian. “Who drives for a fucking living and doesn’t have roadside assistance?”
Ian spoke via speakerphone to a random tow company they’d Googled. “It’s a silver Camry. Near exit 130.”
Mickey yelled into the phone. “Just look for the goddamn ring of fire lighting up I-65.”
Ian prayed for strength. “Ignore him. There’s no fire.” Unless you counted the flames rising from Mickey’s nostrils.
---
Ian talked to Mickey in the crammed cab of the tow truck. “I told you I’d get you there. I’ll think of something.”
The mechanic pulled into a repair shop. “Car can stay here. Hank opens at 7:00 tomorrow.”
Mickey exploded. “It’s not open 24 hours?”
“This is Indianapolis, not L.A.”
“How are we supposed—"
Ian held up a hand to stop him. He could feel Mickey’s desperation, his impatience and heartbreak. “Is there a hotel nearby?”
The mechanic pointed across the street. To a run-down motel called King Richard’s Royal Inn.
Mickey glared. “Well, long live the fuckin’ king.”
---
Josie at the front desk didn’t even look at her computer. “I’m sorry. It’s race week. We don’t have room for more guests.”
Mickey glared at Ian. “Come on, Gingerbread. You’re taking me to the Motel 6.”
Josie snorted. “You’ll be lucky to find a campground in this town with a vacancy.”
“Guess I’m sleeping in your fucking lobby, then.”
As if Ian didn’t feel bad enough about this situation.
A chime sounded on the computer.
“Hey, now.” Josie smiled. “We’ve just had a cancellation.” She looked between them. “It’s a single. One full-sized bed.”
Mickey didn’t hesitate. “We’ll take it.”
---
“Door’s flimsy enough to kick open.” Ian unlocked the motel room.
Mickey groaned. “No TV. No closet. They better have hot water.”
“Jesus, the bed’s small.” Ian’s neck ached. This was officially hell.
“You gonna be all right, Red? We’ve got to get used to touching each other.”
Ian grabbed him and pulled him close, roughly. “Think we’ll be able to fool Keith?”
And, damn, Mickey’s face was right fucking there, looking tired. Cranky. Kissable. “We should do it bareback in the middle of the chapel just to piss him off.”
Oof.
Ian was not going to survive this night.
---
Mickey cracked the bathroom door as he showered, fogging up the motel room.
Ian sat on the bed, still for the first time tonight. He felt warmth. Pain. Adrenaline let-down.
Mickey’s silhouette moved behind the curtain. A hint. A tease. An invitation.
What if … Ian pulled the curtain back?
He could feel those sturdy shoulders, that smooth skin. Trace his tongue along the water droplets. Grab that thick … hair.
What if Mickey dropped his guy and took Ian on? Then what?
Would Mickey get tired of him?
Desire. Curiosity. Potential. Ian’s thoughts swirled like water.
… then the shower clicked off.
---
“Jesus!” Mickey pulled the curtain back. “Damn water turned to ice.” He jumped from the shower, lunging for a towel.
And of course Ian had been staring and saw everything. Mickey’s dripping body. The toned muscles in his legs. His stomach. A quick flash of his anatomy.
Ian turned away.
“Fucking freezing, man.” Mickey’s wet feet slapped on the floor. “This is on you, Gallagher.”
Ian peeked. The towel did nothing to hide the curve of Mickey’s ass.
God, Ian had to tamp down his infatuation. Maybe cockiness would work instead. “I hear skin-to-skin contact gets you warm the fastest.”
---
Mickey huffed at Ian’s joke. “You tryin’ to see me naked?”
“It’s for science. Research.”
Mickey shrugged and reached for the knot of his towel. The world moved in slow motion now, a tattooed hand tugging white cotton.
The fabric fell away, sliding down his leg. Dark hairs matted against skin. Body with the right balance of definition and softness.
Ian’s heart beat fast. He felt it getting stronger and stronger and stronger.
He glanced up and fell into Mickey’s eyes.
One touch could overcome the silence. One touch could reveal Ian’s crush.
Mickey smiled, all confidence. “Your turn, Loverboy.”
---
In this game of chicken, Mickey was winning.
Ian gulped. It was only fair, right? Mickey needed to see his body for their boyfriend charade to work.
Ian peeled off his jeans. His t-shirt, going slow and begging all his parts to stay chill.
Mickey never broke eye contact.
Ian slid his boxers down, breathless.
“Patriot tattoo. Boobs tattoo.” Mickey nodded. “Carpet matches the drapes. Uh-huh.”
How could Mickey stay so calm when he was tearing Ian’s nerves to pieces?
Mickey stepped within touching distance. “Only one more question, hot shot.”
“What’s that?”
“How good of an actor are you?”
---
Ian held his ground. “I’m a great actor.”
“Could you kiss me right now?” Mickey’s gaze raked down Ian’s body. “Kiss me and not get hard?” Mickey spoke oh-so-slowly. “We’re together, right? So we supposedly kiss all the time. Can you control yourself?”
A song burst through the tension. A silly cartoon voice repeating, You are my cute-cumber. You are my cute-cumber.
Mickey’s eyes widened. “Fuck, my phone.”
He scrambled, but the sound went silent before he got there.
Ian laughed. “Seriously? That’s the cheesiest alert.”
“You don’t understand.” Mickey looked up with pain in his eyes. “That’s Keith’s ringtone.”
---
Keith’s call shifted Mickey's vibe from flirty to flustered.
Ian slid on his boxers and jeans. Being naked suddenly seemed wrong.
“Why the fuck was he calling?” Mickey threw the towel over his lap. “He didn’t leave a voicemail. Is he having second thoughts about the wedding? Should I call back?”
Ian had no clue how to help. “Just take a minute. Breathe.”
“My brain’s turning to mush here, Gallagher. I’m exhausted. I’m confused. We haven’t eaten in hours. And now this? Tell me what the fuck to do.”
Ian didn’t think. He yanked Mickey’s head back and kissed him.
---
The kiss was overwhelming. Tinged with panic. Wonderful. Scary. Exciting. Over too soon.
Mickey touched his own lips. “That’s good. I … needed that.”
“This trip’ll be stressful enough without you freaking out. When the anxiety ratchets up in that head of yours, I’ll take care of you, all right?”
Mickey nodded. Took a second. Smirked. “Knew you couldn’t do it.”
“What?”
“Knew you couldn’t kiss me without getting hard.”
“You’re an asshole.”
But the intensity on Mickey’s face told Ian not to push. The bright blue eyes. The absolute relief at being taken care of.
Ian let the moment simmer.
---
Ian needed to be supportive. A bodyguard. A wingman, offering safety pins and pep talks.
He pulled two joints from his pocket. “You weren’t meant to face this weekend sober.”
“Fuck, man, you always know what I need.”
“Snagged ’em from my glove box after the crash.” Ian lit up and offered one to Mickey. “I know everything seems fuckin’ hopeless, like your life is wrecked. You ain’t wrong.”
“This supposed to make me feel better?”
“The point is, it’s okay to be who you are.”
“What’s that, big guy?”
Ian threaded their fingers together. “A loser, just like me.”
---
The wee hours passed in a purple haze of weed and exhaustion.
They didn’t sleep. They lay beside each other in that tiny bed, clothes on, joking and mumbling.
They bumped elbows, knocked knees, held hands.
Ian ached for more touch. For a kiss that meant more than comfort.
Mickey’s icy blue eyes held him at bay. I can’t face that yet. Please let me hover outside of reality a little longer.
In the orange glow of sunrise, Ian gathered his nerve. He asked the question he’d been pondering all night. “You still want to go to this wedding, Milkovich?”
---
Mickey sat too far away on the motel bed. “Why wouldn’t I go? Keith is my boyfriend. We live together.”
“How’s that gonna work out once the newlyweds get home?”
“I still want to go.”
This wasn’t right, goddammit. In the movies, a kiss leads to a romantic finale, not this stubborn insistence to stay on course.
Ian grasped at one last hope. “To win Keith back?”
Mickey inched closer. He held Ian’s chin. Broke into a smile. “To show him what a big mistake he made.”
This time, the kiss was only about the two of them. Fuckin’ finally.
--- * --- * --- * --- * ---
Hey. Is this thing on?
Gallagher’s been doing an okay job telling this story, but now it’s my turn. And none of that past-tense, passive bullshit. I’ll tell you everything the moment it happens, okay?
You’re gonna witness every mile, every pit stop, every tacky decision my ex makes for this wedding. His abysmal choice in groom. Some godawful silver balloon arch. Those lime-flavored vodka Jell-o squares he loves so much.
Damn, I can’t wait to see the scowl on Keith’s face when Ian and I start playing tonsil hockey on the dance floor.
We’re gonna fuck some shit up.
---
It’s seven AM. I’m camped outside Hank’s Body Shop drinking coffee-colored swill.
Ian’s beside me, giving me bedroom eyes, running his fingers up my arm. He’s tempting as fuck.
Hank unlocks the door and lets us in. “Knew you’d be waitin’.”
I spot Ian’s car, nod toward it. “What’s the damage?”
“Her bones are good, but you’re looking at three grand in parts and labor. I have an opening on October first.”
“October? That’s six weeks from now.”
Hank shrugs. “You can tow her somewhere else. No skin off my teeth.”
Ian eyes darken, and not in a sexy way.
---
Look, I’ve learned a lot about Gallagher in the past day. If he says he’s gonna do something, he will.
We’re definitely getting to Nashville.
He’s got about eighty tabs up on his phone. “Ubering is ridiculously expensive. A rental car’ll surcharge me because I’m not twenty-five.”
“You’re not?”
“Not until next May.” Ian doesn’t even look up. “Greyhound leaves at 11:30. What time’s the wedding?”
“Six.”
“Guess we’re taking the bus.”
I fucking hate this idea. Ian can tell. He grabs me by the waist. “We can cuddle the whole way there.”
Okay, maybe I fucking love this idea.
---
We leave the car behind. Leave the body shop behind. Check out of the motel, leave it behind.
All I’ve been doing lately is letting things go. Releasing the goddamn trapeze wire and falling without a net.
My ex is the hardest fucking thing to let go.
Ian and I sit in the back seat of a cab, on our way to the bus station. He holds my hand, simply. “This is the first time I’ve seen your shoulders relax.”
He's a six-foot-high, freckly-armed godsend. It's easier to let go when a motherfucker like that is waiting to catch you.
---
The bus trip passes in a blur. I’m lost in a tangle of Gallagher limbs. He touches my forehead, cups my cheek, kisses me every minute on the minute.
After all the shit we’ve gone through, the ride feels too easy. Roadblocks are easy to rally against. But when the path is clear, doubt creeps in.
We pull into Nashville Station at four o’clock. It’s sunny. The air smells like Keith.
He’s probably putting on his tux and double-checking the flowers right now.
I’ve been obsessed. I haven’t taken a moment to breathe.
Fuck.
Am I doing the right thing?
---
I shove down my hesitation, because fuck Keith. If I want to crash his party, I’ll do it with a wrecking ball.
Ian and I step out of an Uber, bleary-eyed. The white chapel sits in a commercial strip, bathed in neon.
There’s two pink birds dressed in tuxedos mounted out front. I rip one from the grass. “Goddamn flamingos, man. That was supposed to be our thing.”
A man greets guests at the chapel steps. “Thank you for coming, thank you ah-very much.” Rhinestones. Bell bottoms. Sunglasses.
I can’t handle this shit. “He’s having fucking Elvis officiate his wedding?!”
---
I’m ready to find out what kinda froufrou shindig my ex is throwing. I’m gonna bust in his skull the second he vows himself to that prick Logan Covington.
Only … I haven’t moved yet.
Ian sets his hand on my neck. He touches a muscle that calms my whole goddamn body. “Hey, there’s a pizza place around the block. You up for it?”
I blink. “Bustin’ this up isn’t going to help anything, is it?”
He shakes his head.
Fuck. That voice of reason finally takes hold. “Pizza it is, then.”
The moment we turn, I hear a voice. “Mickey?”
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All I Ever Knew, Only You 14: Light 'Em Up
Chapter Fourteen.
So bright, the flames burned in our hearts,
That we found each other in the dark,
Black beast, out in the wilderness,
We are fighting to survive and convalesce,
But we're gonna live, we're gonna live, at last,
Then I heard the church bells from afar,
But we found each other in the dark
Summary: Hawkins was your typical quaint, mid-western town where nothing ever happened. People were born here, lived their entire lives within the town limits, and eventually died here, peacefully in their sleep. But one cold November evening in 1983 would change everything.
Despite a child with psychokinetic abilities and ravenous monsters that lacked faces, stranger things had definitely happened in the small town in Indiana. One of them being your reluctant and slightly imposed friendship with Hawkins High’s own King Bee, Steve Harrington.
Characters: Steve Harrington x Non-descriptive F!Reader (eventual)
Words: 5,726
Chapter Warnings: Explicit language, mentions of injuries, fluff, Protective!Hopper here for duty, the death of dart that i am still not over, attempted suicide in the absolute most minimal way i promise (you'll understand when you read it i promise, everyone is good everything is fine i just don't know how else to label it), i am now totally unsure which one is the bigger idiot.
Series Warnings: Strong language, mentions of underage drinking, mentions of drug use, canon-typical violence, mentions of alcohol abuse, mentions of possible mental health disorders, child abuse, slow burn, kinda enemies-to-friends-to-lovers, I like to call it ‘two idiots who begrudgingly befriend each other only to realize… ‘wait a damn minute…’, eventual sexual content, no use of y/n, canon-typical time-period bullshit. 18+. Minors DNI.
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Chapter Fourteen: Light 'Em Up
The tires of the blue Camero groaned in discontent, screeching as the car finally came to a stop with half of Merrill’s pumpkin sign still attached to it.
Steve had progressively become more awake, and also more panicked during the ride, and despite the pain you’d be in any time you had to brace during Max’s overzealous drive, you couldn’t deny the fact that had any of the boys driven, you probably wouldn’t have made it out of the Byers’ driveway.
“Told you. Zoomer.” Max told them proudly before pushing open her door and allowing Mike to climb out, followed by Dustin as you and Steve were left to clamber — or in Steve’s case, fall — out of the too-small backseats.
You made your way around to the trunk, grabbing goggles as the kids tied their bandannas around their faces. You didn’t have much time to look for real supplies, and you just prayed that what you had would suffice.
Either way, it would have to do.
Steve groaned as he pulled himself up from the floor where he’d all but rolled to, his face beaten and swollen slightly as he stumbled for a moment whilst he tried to get his bearings.
“No… Guys. Hey, where do you think you’re going?” He questioned Mike as the younger boy strolled right past him, can of gasoline in hand, “What are you, deaf? Hello? We are not going down there right now. I made myself clear. There is no chance we’re going to the hole, all right?”
You passed Steve, too focused on the task at hand to bother yourself with his dramatics, and instead handed Mike a rope as the older boy continued to emphasize his argument. Walking back around to the trunk to grab your own gear, Steve’s hand shot out, the boy stumbling a little as he held on to you.
“This ends now!”
Shrugging his hand off, you sent him a sharp glare whilst Dustin finally responded, “Steve, you’re upset, I get it. But the bottom line is, a party member requires assistance, and it is our duty to provide that assistance.”
Dustin stormed off, making his way toward the group as they began to lower items into the hole whilst Steve stood — still a little dazed — and inhaled deeply. You could tell he was frustrated, but at least he wasn’t yelling about it anymore.
“He’s not wrong.”
“You too? I thought we were on the same side here.” Steve sighed, his tired eyes roaming over your face. The boy had perfected the kicked puppy dog look.
Biting your bottom lip, you moved closer to the boy and placed your hand on his arm that was leaning against the open car door, “We are on the same side, okay? Look, these kids are gonna go down there whether we go with them or not. If you need to stay up here, that’s fine. I get it. But I’m not letting them go down there alone, especially not with those things running around.”
Steve sighed, tightly squeezing his eyes closed, “We said we’d keep them safe…”
Your hand moved from Steve’s forearm, hovering over his bruised knuckles for just a second before gently squeezing his hand, causing the boy’s eyes to pop open almost comically, “So let's keep them safe. You got this, Steve. We got this.”
Your left hand grabbed a backpack from the trunk containing a bandanna, goggles and Steve’s trusty nailed bat. You held it out to him with bated breath, waiting for his decision. After the relentless attack from Billy, you wouldn’t blame him if he decided he needed a time-out. Your own head was throbbing, you couldn’t begin to imagine how his felt.
Nor could you ignore the relief that flooded your bones when he took the bag from you, a simple nod from the boy before you began to pull on your own gear.
In usual Steve fashion, the boy demanded he go first into the hole to check it out and make sure there wasn’t a pack of hungry Demo-dogs waiting underneath for you all to drop directly into their open mouths.
“Holy shit,” Steve gazed around the tunnel as the rest of you dropped down, Mike pulling out a map before setting off in the direction he believed would lead you all to the hive mind.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hey. I don’t think so. Any of you little shits die down here, we’re getting the blame. Got it, dipshit?” Steve grumbled, pushing past Mike, “From here on out, I’m leading the way. Come on, let's go.”
You all began to follow him, no questions asked as Steve led the group and you brought up the rear. By the time you were deep enough into the tunnels, you were ready to throw your flashlight at him. A little hustle this, and c’mon, pick up the pace that.
You’d almost forgotten that he was captain of both the basketball team and the swim team and was more than comfortable ordering people around.
Vines wrapped their way along the long floors, keeping you conscious of where you were stepping, as if they might leap out at you any second and dangle you upside down, and the particles of something floating in the air made you cautious that maybe the bandannas you all wore were not enough to keep your respiratory system safe and working.
You felt like your head was turning every few seconds, paranoia from the Demo-dogs, as well as uncharted tunnels, making you feel on edge and Dustin’s sudden screaming really didn’t discourage that.
Rushing toward the boy as he fell to the ground, his shouts desperate enough to rattle your bones, you grabbed at him as he flinched away, unaware of your presence until you managed to get him to look at you, the boy calling for his friends as the group quickly returned.
Slipping from your grasp as he continued to flail about, the group surrounded him, “What happened?”
“It’s in my mouth! Some got in my mouth! Shit!”
He began to hack up a cough as you pulled down your bandanna, trying to catch Dustin’s attention as you called his name, pulling his face into your hands, all but forcing the boy to look up at you,
“Dustin, relax!”
Gulping in a large breath of air, the boy finally settled, his blue eyes peering into yours, “I’m okay…”
“You serious?”
“Very funny, man. Nice. Very nice.”
The group continued on, murmuring under their breath as you helped pick the boy back up, a possibly too-hard whack to the back of his cap to send him on his way after you pulled up your own bandanna once more.
This was going to be a long night.
“Alright, Wheeler,” Steve sighed, flashlight pointed at the crossroad of tunnels surrounding you, “I think we found your hub.”
“Let’s drench it.”
And so you got to work, covering the walls and surrounding tunnel entrances in gasoline. Turning toward Steve, who was busy pouring out his own canister, you pulled your bandanna down once more,
“Are you sure you won’t, like… light up like a Christmas tree?”
Steve’s brow cocked, the only hint that he was silently questioning you.
“You know, with all that hairspray, are you sure you’re not flammable?”
Despite not being able to see his facial features, you felt it in your soul when Steve was glaring at you, causing a smirk to pull one side of your mouth upward.
“Ha ha, very funny,” the boy’s monotonous tone only caused your smile to broaden as he moved closer toward you, the tips of his sneakers knocking your own slightly as he reached forward with his free hand, rubber glove gently gripping the bandanna that now loosely hung around your neck and pulling it back over your nose, “And stop pulling this down. We don’t know what’s floating around down here.”
Rolling your eyes, you secured the cloth a little tighter around your face and wondered how ridiculous you all looked.
“You guys ready?” Steve asked once you were all standing at the entrance to the tunnel you came from.
“Light her up,” Dustin confirmed as Steve pulled out his lighter.
You felt his dark eyes peering up at you from where he knelt on the floor, “We are in such deep shit.”
You placed a hand over Max’s shoulder, pushing the girl in front of you as the tunnels lit up, an unbearable and unforgiving heat beating across your face as you watched the vines along the floor begin to dance along the embers. Everything really was connected, and you could only hope this didn’t hurt Will more than it had to.
“C’mon, go!” Steve pulled you along by the wrist, only letting go once he was certain your feet would follow, as he pushed his way to lead the group once more, “This way!”
Unfortunately for you, you were running just behind Mike when he took a tumble — a thick vine wrapping around his ankle and slowly dragging him across the floor — causing you to trip right over him, your own ankle rolling under your weight as you failed to catch yourself on the sharp walls of the tunnel.
Mike’s screaming caught the attention of the group as you tried to drag yourself toward the thick vine, unable to untangle it as it fought against you, only tightening its grip on the boy. Despite struggling to pull off your backpack, you finally managed to pull the ax that you were yet to return to Mrs. Byers and hobbled to your feet, balancing on your one good foot as you swung at the vine, cursing as you lost your balance and tumbled toward the wall.
A shrill screech seemed to emit from the vines as they curled up, releasing the boy's ankle as Steve’s bat connected with it once, twice, three times.
Lucas and Dustin pulled Mike up, a tight grip on their friend as they checked him over whilst Steve turned to you, eyes wide even under his goggles as he looked from your face to your ankle, and back again, noting your flamingo-like posture,
“You good?”
Before you could respond, a growl from behind the group stopped you all in your tracks.
A Demo-dog stood on all fours, large mouth opening, and closing as it continued its inhuman noises. Dustin watched for a moment, head cocked slightly to the right.
“Dart.”
When the monster didn’t immediately attack, seemingly checking out the boy in front of him — friend or foe? Possibly even snack — Dustin stepped forward, despite everyone pleading for him to stay where he was.
“Shh, stop. Trust me, please.”
Dustin remained eerily calm as he slowly approached the dog, the monster taking a few cautionary steps closer too, meeting him near the middle of the tunnel.
“Hey, it’s me. It’s your friend, it’s Dustin,” the boy pulled down his bandanna before lifting his goggles in hopes the monster would recognize him, “It’s Dustin, all right? You remember me? Will you let us pass?”
The monster snarled at him, revealing far too many sharp teeth for your liking, but remained in place. If it wanted to, it easily could’ve ripped Dustin apart by now. You knew that as well as the boy did. But this… thing, something about this one was different. Maybe it really was Dart, and maybe, he and Dustin had formed some kind of weird, fucked up human/alternate-dimensional-creature bond in the few days it had taken Dart to sprout four legs and a mouth full of teeth.
“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I’m sorry about the storm cellar. That was a pretty douchey thing to do. You hungry? Yeah?” Dustin reached into his backpack, pulling out what looked like a Three Musketeers bar, “I’ve got our favorite, see? Nougat.”
As Dustin opened the wrapper, the creature slowly padded toward him, much like a family dog might’ve. Once Dart began to eat, Dustin shooed the rest of you through, Steve holding you up as you hobbled alongside him.
Once everyone had passed, Dustin stood, pulling down his goggles as he moved past to follow the group, turning around as Dart did the same, “Goodbye, buddy.”
As your group rushed back looking for where the rope to safety dangled, leading back up to the surface, the whole tunnel system seemed to shift, rumbling and sending you all in different directions.
“What was that?” Max asked, turning in the direction of… roaring?
“They’re coming. Run! Run!”
Steve lifted Max up first, the girl pulling herself up the rope with no problem, quickly followed by Lucas and then Mike. Dustin was halfway up the rope, clutching to his friend's hands when you saw the first shadow of a Demo-dog on the wall.
“Harrington,” you swallowed, heart pounding against your rib cage, eyes beginning to water as you realized your fate.
“I know, I know…” Steve panicked, gripping his bat in his hands as he shouldered Dustin a little further up, “Go, c’mon, get up-”
You both knew you didn’t have enough time for the two of you to get back out to safety and somehow, Steve had continuously surprised you in these life-and-death situations — especially when it was between his life and your death — constantly putting his safety on the line. Back last year with the Demogorgon, hell, even earlier that evening at the Junkyard.
This time… This time, it was your turn.
“We’re not gonna both make it up there in time. You need to go.”
His head swiveled around so quickly, you were sure he almost gave himself whiplash, but you didn’t give him enough time to disagree as you rearranged the ax in your grip, holding it high and standing your ground despite your shaking hands, “I’m not gonna get up there quickly, it’s pointless. Just go. Please.”
Ignoring the crack of your voice, and the shouting from the kids above you, Steve shook his head, eyes darting between yourself and the incoming monsters, their roaring getting closer and closer, “No, I-”
“Go, Steve!”
“Not without you.”
Snapping your own head toward the boy, you both stood silently as the few seconds that passed felt like hours, before finally accepting your fate.
The kids would be safe. But you were doing this. You and Steve would foolishly take on a pack of Demo-dogs.
Despite Steve’s eyes flicking back to the tunnel, yours remained on him as you tried to swallow down the fear that was crawling up your throat, clutching at your vocal cords and making it impossible to speak.
The first Demo-dog rushed around the corner, but you barely saw a flash of it as you were suddenly spinning around, Steve’s chest colliding with your back as he gripped you with one hand, turning your body behind his.
When the pained cries and shouting and screaming didn’t come, your eyes peeled open, watching as the dogs ran straight past you, entering a different tunnel and paying both you and Steve no mind.
Once the echoes of their rushed feet had disappeared, the tunnel remained silent, even the kids above were in shocked silence. Blood rushed in your ears, as your body shook, the ax falling from your grip and landing by your feet.
Steve’s labored breaths pushed his chest into your back repeatedly, and you weren’t quite sure if it was your heartbeat or his that you could feel.
His grip remained tight around your waist, rubber gloved fingers digging into your skin a little too tightly to be reassuring, yet you still leaned your weight against him, head bent backward at a mildly uncomfortably angle as you pulled down your bandanna and caught your breath, trying to work out if you were actually still alive.
It was only when he tilted his own head down, resting his chin on your shoulder that you flinched away — his panting a little too loud in your ear — the previous pain from earlier that evening finally ebbing its way back now that the adrenaline was finally dissipating from your veins.
“Eleven,” Mike shouted down, “She’s doing it, she’s closing the gate. Get out of there, now.”
Neither of you needed to be told twice, and once Steve had awkwardly lifted you halfway up the rope, allowing you to place your weight onto his shoulder as the other kids had helped you crawl out of the hole, he quickly followed after you just in time to watch the headlights beam on Billy’s car, momentarily blinding you all.
And, just as it had seemed last year…
It was over.
Steve had managed to drive to Hopper’s cabin thanks to your directions as the kids huddled in the backseat. Nobody uttered a word, and the car radio remained off the entire drive. The only words you spoke were a mumbled thank you as he assisted you out of the car, tucking your arm over his shoulders, his own hand wrapping back around your waist as he helped you slowly hobble toward the cabin.
You could only pray that whatever had its hold over Will was gone, leaving the boy unscathed and that Eleven and Hopper were alive and safe.
Thankfully, you’d spotted Hopper’s Chevvy hidden where he usually parked it between the trees and found yourself all but rushing toward the safety of the cabin.
The commotion from the kids must have alerted everyone to your appearance as the group, bar Will and Eleven, stepped out onto the porch, eyebrows pinched together, confused at your sudden appearance. The plan was for you to stay at the Byers and wait. It was clear to everyone that somehow, for some reason, that plan had changed.
You felt a whimper force its way out of your lips before you even recognized the sound as your own when you caught Hopper’s gaze, the man pushing through the small crowd outside the front door, his long legs reaching you quickly.
Steve released you from his grip as soon as the larger man approached, brows still furrowed on his face as he pulled you into a tight hug,
“What the hell happened to you guys?”
It took Steve a second to realize that Hopper’s attention was now directed toward him, his dark blue eyes taking in his bruised face.
“Uh, something came up. We… We couldn’t stay at the Byers. I know we said… I promised we’d look after the kids, but-”
“Can we talk about it later?” You sighed, hoping Hopper would take pity on your tired eyes and pained limp, “Eleven and Will… are they okay?”
Hopper helped you up the porch steps, a sweet smile sent Joyce’s way as she took your face between her warm palms and placed a kiss on your forehead, “They’re fine. Exhausted but… Alive. Safe.”
It felt like a weight had been lifted from your chest, the ability to finally inhale deeply causing your vision to blur a little. The plan had worked, and most of you had survived. Mike had already made his way into the cabin, grabbing at both Eleven and Will and pulling them into a tight hug, quickly followed by the rest of the kids, bar Max who hung back a little.
Joyce, however, moved her attention to the young girl, pulling her into a motherly hug, “Whatever you kids did tonight… Thank you.”
“Can we, uh… Clean up a little?” you turned toward Hopper, nodding toward the bathroom, knowing there was a first aid kit stashed in the medicine cabinet.
Hopper’s gaze switched between you and Steve before sending the latter a slight glare, despite his nod, “Head on through, do you want me to-”
“It’s fine, Hop. We won’t be long,” you sighed, trying to put as little weight onto your ankle as possible as you shuffled Steve into the too-small bathroom.
Once the folding door was shut, shutting out the quiet mumbles from the group, you let out a long, exasperated sigh, leaning on the door whilst Steve was already looking through the cabinet, pulling out the small box.
“Do you want to-”
“No, no… You sit down, I don’t think that ankle is gonna handle any more pressure on it tonight.” Steve interrupted, motioning for you to sit on the closed toilet as he nosed through the first aid supplies.
Finding some ointment for bruising and a clean cloth, Steve ran the tap until the water was warm, ringing out the excess water before standing in front of you, hesitating.
“Do you, uh-”
“I can’t exactly see the back of my head, Harrington.”
Nodding, Steve placed the cloth against the back of your head, a mumbled apology falling from his lips when you hissed in pain.
“Billy, he uh… He didn’t-”
“Billy didn’t touch me,” you sighed, “not really, anyway. Shoved me away from Lucas and I hit my head on the counter.”
An unintelligible grumble fell from Steve’s lips, his eyebrows almost connecting as he frowned, only deepening as you continued to speak, “I must say though, Harrington. I’m pleasantly surprised. You got in, what? At least three hits before-”
“Before he blindsided me by hitting me in the head with a plate?” Steve huffed, pulling away the cloth and rinsing it when he found only dried blood. He took a second to look over the wound, unsure as to what he was really even looking for.
“I mean, it’s Billy. Do you really expect him to play fair?”
Shrugging his shoulders, Steve groaned slightly as he bent down, resting on his knees as he lifted your ankle. After taking off your sneakers and socks, then rolling up your jeans a little, he turned your ankle cautiously as he inspected it. The skin had already begun to swell, and a deep red bruise was blossoming along the outer side of your heel,
“You really need to ice and rest this,” Steve placed the cold cloth against the skin and held it there, continuing to scrutinize your injury.
A small huff fell from your lips as you sent the top of his head a smirk, “Where did you get your Ph.D. from again?”
“I play sports,” Steve’s eyes met yours, an annoyed, but innocuous glare settling across his face as he peered up at you, “I’ve rolled my ankle enough times in Basketball to know how to deal with it.”
A high, mocking tune rumbled in your throat as you cocked a brow, “My bad, Harrington. Didn’t know you liked to play Doctors and Nurses in your spare time.”
“Why do you do that?” He interrupted thumb subconsciously grazing the part of your skin that the cloth didn’t reach.
Your face scrunched slightly, feeling a little too defensive already, “Do what?”
His shoulders slumped as a long sigh escaped his nose, but his eyes remained focused on you, “You know, I think tonight, when you were convincing me to follow those little assholes into the pits of Hell… I think that was the first time I’ve heard you actually call me by my name.”
“I call you it all the time-”
“No,” he interrupted once more, the line between his brows emerging once again as he tried to stress his point, “You call me Harrington all the time. Normally with a glare, but still…”
You remained silent for a moment, wondering if you did, indeed, do that, “Does it matter?”
“I mean, it makes you sound like you’re always mad at me-”
“I am normally mad at you,” you joked, but your smile slipped from your face just as quickly as it had appeared when his expression didn’t change, “I don’t know why I do it, alright? I do it to everyone, I guess…”
“I just…” Steve sighed, the hand that was holding the cloth to your ankle moved to push his hair back from his forehead before quickly reattaching itself to you, as if he needed to anchor himself to something to get his thoughts out, “I like it when you call me Steve. Makes me feel like we’re, you know… Friends.”
You watched as he shrugged, his throat bobbing as he tore his eyes away from you in what you could only assume was embarrassment.
Because even after everything you went through together almost a year ago, even after he saved your life… you weren’t friends. But now?
“Seems like the universe is trying to tell us something.”
Steve’s eyes returned to yours, confusion etched on his face as you sighed and sat up straighter, your body a little closer to him, “We are friends. I mean, you saved my life twice in one year. It would be kinda rude not to be, right?”
A small puff of air forced itself from his chest as he sent you a small smile, “Third time’s the charm,”
“Oh my god, why would you even say that?” You laughed back, mouth agape in faux offense, “But, I suppose I could… try and reserve last names for when I’m actually mad-”
“It would save me a lot of confusion.”
You shared a small, almost silent laugh, his eyes boring into you, seeming much darker in Hopper's dodgy bathroom lightening, Steve’s thumb still subconsciously skimming over your ankle as you both reveled in the quiet, the voices in the lounge were low and muffled slightly, so when the folding door was swiftly yanked open, nearly sending the boy into your lap, you both jumped out of your skin, your wide eyes narrowing into a glower as you stared down the man on the other side of the door,
“You kids need some help in here? Been long enough I thought you’d got lost.”
Rolling your eyes, you settled back against the tank of the toilet with a sigh, “Waiting times in the ER are outrageous. I’ll tell my doctor to hurry it up.”
Steve cleared his throat, discomfort written on his face as he sent Hopper an almost pained smile, unable to keep eye contact for more than a few seconds, “Almost done. Promise.”
You watched Hopper as he watched Steve — the boy suddenly finding the bare wooden floorboards beneath him a little too fascinating — his eyes flitting to you for just a moment before settling back on the boy, “Yeah, well, speed it up, alright? I need to take a leak.”
“Hop,” you heard Joyce warn, pulling the man’s attention for just a moment. His tongue ran across his bottom lip as if he were deep in thought, before he finally conceded, pulling the door across once more, but not shutting it fully.
Steve quickly poured the Arnica ointment onto some toilet paper before gently dabbing it onto your ankle, brows furrowed in concentration “We really should speed things up.”
“Ignore him. He’s just… weird.”
Steve sent you a quirked brow, all too aware that you didn’t bother to lower your voice and that the possibility of Hopper hearing you was high.
“You’re pretty close, huh?”
“He, uh… He dated my Mom. Hung around for a while and never really left, even when they broke up.”
“That’s nice.”
Shrugging, you peered through the gap in the door, eyes finding the man across the room talking quietly with Joyce for a moment before disappearing from your obstructed view, “I guess so. I don’t really see eye to eye with my Mom. I mean, I know what people say about her, about my family, but Hopper, he just… He never cared about all that stuff. I, uh… I cried myself to sleep the night they broke up. I mean, I’d seen guys come and go for years, I was used to it, and I just kind of thought he’d disappear like everyone else. Cross the street when he saw me, duck his head when he saw me in the same aisle at Big Buy… But he just… didn’t, you know? It wouldn’t have ever lasted with my Mom, but he’s been there for me more than anyone. Especially my own dad. I owe him a lot.”
“I don’t think he sees it that way.”
Steve’s comment caught you off-guard slightly. You’d heard all the gross accusations that high schoolers had thrown your way. That Hopper had left your mother for you, that he was your real dad and everything in between. You had thought for so long that he had simply hung around because he felt guilty. Then, you’d heard that he had a daughter, Sara, who had passed away in New York, and you thought that maybe his protectiveness over you was down to grief. That he was trying to make you fit into a Sara-shaped hole.
But Hopper, despite all of his flaws — and he had plenty — was simply a good man.
Sending your sudden tension, Steve scrambled to continue, “I mean, I don’t think he thinks you owe him anything. He seems like a decent guy-”
“He is,” you cut Steve off. Your chest felt heavy and tight as if your body was desperate for the conversation to finish before you burst into tears and embarrassed the both of you.
“All done,” Steve smiled, placing the toilet paper into the sink to be flushed later. He placed your ankle gently on the floor after rolling back down your pant leg and pulling on your sock, “I wouldn’t even try the sneakers, but you do need to ice it.”
Holding out a hand, Steve pulled you up, your bodies a little too close in the cramped bathroom, “We should-”
“Sit your ass down, Steve,” you wanted to pat yourself on the back for remembering, “It’s your turn.”
Eventually, you and Steve emerged from the bathroom, one arm slung over his shoulder as he guided you back into the lounge, Hopper quickly moved from where he was leaning against the wall next to the bathroom and took over, walking you back to his armchair whilst Steve quietly argued — and lost — with Joyce as she tried to give up her own chair, eventually reassuring him that she was going to check on Will, who was resting on Hopper’s fold up bed across the room.
When the once cold can of beer pressed against your ankle had warmed to room temperature, and the box of ‘Eggo’s’ Steve had held against his bruised face had turned soggy, the boy finally pushed himself up, clearing his throat, “I, uh… I should get going.”
You’d explained most of your evening to the group, leaving out that Hargrove had been the cause of your own injuries, and Hopper had told Steve that Billy would find himself on the receiving end of a few extra speeding tickets since the former didn’t want to press charges, and by now, everyone was visibly exhausted. It had been a very long weekend.
“Can I catch a ride?” You asked, already pushing yourself up off the armchair to follow.
Steve nodded and extended the offer, eventually driving you, Max, Lucas, and Dustin out of there. He’d have to drop Billy’s car back before anyone became suspicious, but he’d just waved a hand at you when you’d offered to drive the Camero back after picking up his own car, telling you he would simply walk home and collect it from the woods where he’d left it with yourself and Dustin at the beginning of your hunt for Dart.
Despite Hopper offering to stay at his for the night, you declined. You just wanted to crawl into your own bed and not emerge for a couple of days, despite knowing it was the beginning of another school week. So, after Jim had made you promise to radio him if there was any issue, he begrudgingly sent you off into the night with Steve.
The excitement seemed all too much for the kids, each one falling asleep before Steve had even passed back by Merrill’s farm. His voice was gentle as he woke them up, bar when he gave Dustin a shove, the boy snoring obnoxiously loud as he spread out across the backseat, the last to be dropped home.
Once the boy was safely inside his house, Steve sighed and pulled away, ready to make his way to your house. He could've easily dropped you home first and left Max to last, but the both of you remained quiet as he drove past the long, winding road that would've led to your street. His eyes were red-rimmed and heavy, and he cursed each time his hand subconsciously rubbed at them after he'd pulled over outside of your home.
You hesitated for a moment — your hand ready to open the door — unsure of what to say. So instead, you let out a long sigh and turned in the boy’s direction, “Get home safe, okay?”
Steve nodded, “Want me to walk you to the door? You really shouldn’t be putting weight on that-”
“-After everything that’s happened tonight, if I get murdered between this car, and my front door, then so be it,” you joked, a small smile on your face as Steve tiredly returned it.
Steve’s mouth opened, ready to retort, but instead remained hanging wide as you shuffled across the seat, pulling him into an awkward but quick one-armed hug, “Thanks again, Steve. And I’m sorry for, you know… dragging you along to the tunnels.”
Clearing his throat, Steve sent you a firm nod, “No, it’s… I get it, you know? I mean, either way, we kept the kids safe, right?”
“Right…”
“We make a pretty good team,” a puff of laughter fell from Steve’s lips. The irony wasn’t lost on the boy. 12 months ago, Steve wouldn’t have given you the time of day. You both knew that. Hell, you were certain he wouldn’t be able to pick you out from a lineup full of new students that he’d never met, despite the fact Hawkins only had one high school.
“Yeah, I guess we do. Goodnight, Steve.”
You shuffled out of the car ungracefully, and Steve watched with a wince, forcing himself to remain seated as you hobbled your way up the creaky, decayed porch steps and eventually into your home.
Only once you were tucked away safely in your house, bedroom light flicking on a moment later, did Steve finally drive away.
#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington x reader#stranger things fanfiction#steve harrington x you#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fic#steve harrington fic#steve harrington smut
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The Blanket (Homelander x OC)
800 words | depowered homelander, memories of trauma, angst, hurt/comfort, nightmare mentions, crying bed snuggles | Fic Directory
“What the fuck is that?”
He stands there, stock still and shocked, staring at the bagged bundle of fabric being held out to him. Homelander knows exactly what it is. But he can't… he can't believe it.
“Where the fuck did you get that?” He grits. Why would Ben do this? Why? Why remind him?
“It was in the prop archives. I thought you might want it…” Benjamin's excited demeanor fades and he pulls the bag a little closer to himself. This isn't the first time he's smuggled pieces of Homelander-y memorabilia home, but he's never gotten a reaction like this before. “I can put it ba–”
Homelander all but swipes it out of his hands. “D'you have any idea– do you even know where this came from?” He hisses. Touching it barehanded was so much worse.
It made it real. It always makes it real.
He doesn't bother looking up at Benjamin shaking his head. Of course he wouldn't know. John grips the blue blanket in his hands as hard as he can. So familiar and so fucking painful…
“Was mine in the lab,” he mumbles unwillingly. Didn't even want to say it, but he knew he should.. He can practically hear Ben's regret settle in.
“Shit, Johnny, I–” Ben begins, but Homelander cuts him off.
“It was supposed to have been thrown out years ago… Those fuckwits kept it!” He shakes it in his hand with a fury. He drags the other through his shaggy dark hair to self-soothe, but it does nothing for him. Homelander chucks the blanket onto the couch bitterly and storms back to the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him to leave Benjamin, regretful and saddened, to think about what he did.
The bug gives him time before daring to follow. The door creaks a bit, but the lump under the mountain of blankets barely moves.
This is how he runs away these days. Once upon a time, he'd simply propel himself into the sky and fly anywhere else. He can't do that anymore, though, so he hides. Goes to the place he feels safest.
The muffled sniffle doesn't escape Ben's notice as he crawls in beside him, slipping under the blankets and pulling them over his own head, too.
He slings an arm under John's and rests his hand on the opposite shoulder, pulling him flush against his chest. Homelander clings to his arm, anchoring himself as he suppresses his cries.
“I'm so, so sorry, pumpkin…” Ben coos. He plants a kiss to the nape of Homelander's neck.
“All that bullshit– all that fucking bullshit, and what was it even for?” John whispers tightly. “Least when I was me, it was worth something…”
Ben doesn't know what to say. Maybe, though, that was best. Maybe the only thing Benjamin needed to do was hold him close and be there.
He hugs him tight. Lets him sniffle and cry and let it all out. So many times now, John has told him that he’s reconciled with his childhood. So many times, Homelander has sworn up and down that he's accepted it and it doesn't bother him anymore. The cruel reality, though, was that there would always be times when it bites him anyway. Flashes of memories, itches on his skin that remind him of shattered scalpels and diamond-tipped syringes. Tight spaces that reawakened the little boy locked in a box.
That trauma would always be part of him. He's grown around it, but it catches up every so often.
Eventually, he turns and hides his face against Ben's chest. He pushes the blankets down from over their faces and breathes a deep breath of cool air. He feels tired.
He always feels tired after times like these. His body exhausts so easily now. Ben's fingers dance through his hair and his eyelids feel so heavy.
He's afraid to fall asleep. Scared he'll dream of the bad room again. He touched a part of it today; he's bound to end up back in there. If not now, then later. If not later, then tomorrow.
“I've got you.” Ben promises.
Was it that obvious? Would it always be?
He threads a leg between Ben's and pulls one closer to squeeze. Another point of contact. Another anchor.
“Stay..?” He asks softly. He knows the answer– he knows Ben– but he's been denied so many times in his life that he still feels the need to ask anyway.
“Of course, pumpkin.” Ben murmurs sweetly. “I'll wake you up if you get fussy, okay?”
Relief.
Even if he ends up in there, even if it gets bad, Ben will be there.
His little spider will be there.
#homelander#homelander fanfiction#homelander x oc#the boys#antony starr#depowered homelander#the boys fanfiction
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Would You Keep It Down
The quartet of hero’s burst through the doors to the Grimm King’s castle, weapons held at the ready, all of them prepared for a fight unlike any other. A battle that could change the fate of the world…
Ruby: Stand aside Grimm King! We are here to vanquish you, and restore peace to the lands! Prepare to face the might of team… RWBY…?
Weiss: W-What the hell…?
Yang: Who the hell is that?!
Blake: T-That can’t be… Is that the Grimm King?!
They had expect some sort of Grimm monster! A beast of unimaginable design, and appearance. An eldritch monster that haunted a mans dreams to hell, and back. They did not expect a blond haired, blue eyed man in his early twenties, hunched over wearing light blue bed robes, and what they swear to be, Pumpkin Pete’s slippers…
: Don’t take this the wrong way but, who the hell are you…?
The man seemed tired beyond belief as he lazily drank from what appeared to be a coffee mug with the, Pumpkin Pete’s head on it. Dark bags rested under his eyes as he gazed upon them like they were the greatest inconvenience to grace his path.
Ruby: We are the hero of Remmnant sent here to…?!
: Would you keep it down. This place has an echo like a banshee. And, no one is in a mood for some uncivilized bunch of vagabonds to burst into their home, and start screaming about… Whatever it was you were going to say.
Weiss: Vagabonds?!
: Shhh!
Weiss, coiled back as the sharp retort of this mysterious individual. He soon turned to, Ruby, rolling his hand in a gesture to continue speaking.
Ruby: W-We are the band of Hero’s sent here to slay the, Grimm King. So, prepare yourself, you vile fiend, and pray to whatever gods you hold dear for a quick death.
The hunched individual soon took a small slurp of his drink before he addressed the party of hero’s.
: First off, thank you for being so quiet…
Ruby: Your welcome~!
Yang: Ruby?!
Ruby: What?
Yang: Quit being friendly to the, Grimm King?!
Ruby: Oh… Sorry…
: Secondly, I am not the, Grimm King… Technically speaking there isn’t a Grimm King…
Weiss: Wait, what?!
Ruby: Shh!
Weiss: Don’t you sush me!
Blake: If there isn’t a, Grimm King, then who are you?
: I am the consort to her majesty, Salem, The Grimm Emperess. My name is, Jaune Arc, and I ask you again, to remain quiet.
Ruby: Consort?
Blake: It means spouse… Particularly one who is married to royalty.
Yang: Wait, you’re married to the Grimm King?!
Jaune: One: Grimm Empress. Two: quiet. Three: Yes, yes I am.
Yang: But, she’s a Grimm
Jaune: If you are assuming I married a Beowulf, or some other humanoid Grimm, I can assure you, you are sorely mistaken. My wife has a very human appearance, one may mistake her for a, faunas in all honesty.
Ruby: Oh, okay… At least we know what to look for…
Jaune: And, why would you want to meet her, Highness for?
Ruby: To kill… her…
Jaune: Ah, should have seen that one coming…
Weiss: So stand aside you monster! Or, we’ll be forced to kill you too!
Jaune: Haa… It’s too early for this kind of bullshit… No, no I’m not moving, and no you won’t be killing my wife.
Yang: What makes you think you can stop us!
Jaune: Quiet.
Yang: Oh, sorry.
Weiss: Quit apologizing to this monster?!
Blake: Why not; why can’t we kill her.
Jaune: Because she immortal; My, Empress has lived for a millennia, and will live for a millennia more. You could bash her brains out, decapitate her, hell, even incinerate her, and she just come back like it was a mild inconvenience. And, trust me, I’ve seen her do it… It’s unnerving…
Ruby: B-But, how else are we supposed to rid the world of the Grimm?
Jaune: Beg pardon?
Weiss: The Grimm Empress is in control of all of the Grimm around the world, if we slay her, we can free the world of the, Grimm menace.
Jaune: Pfft! No you won’t…
The Empress Consort chuckled softly as he took another sip of his coffee, before gently swirling it around, looking down at the group of fools they really were.
RWBY: Eh?
Jaune: The Grimm are beings as old as time itself. They are in fact far, far older than my wife is. She can control them, yes, but her death will not dispell the Grimm from creation. Besides, they haven’t been bothering you in your precious little cities too much now have they?
Blake: What do you mean, too much?
Jaune: Haa… I mean this… (Snap)
With a flick of the wrist, he silently snapped his fingers, and a small horde of Beowulfs emerged from the shadows, surrounding them in seconds. Teeth bare, and snarling snouts surround ling them. The party soon stood, back to back, weapons held at the ready, as they prepared for a fight.
Jaune: Her Majesty could simply snap her fingers like so, and waves upon waves of Grimm would come crashing down upon your precious little cities till they were nothing, but smoke, and pile of broken rubble. However, we won’t be doing that…
Yang: And, why not?!
Jaune: Quiet…
Weiss: Grr… Just tell us…
Jaune: Haa… (Snap)
Another quick yet silent snap of the fingers, and the horde of Beowulfs silently left the halls back to where ever they came from. Giving time for the party to relax, but only a little.
Jaune: Her Majesty, and myself have much more important things to handle than dealing with Ozpin, and his little shadow war. Please leave, and tell him to leave his ex-wife alone.
Ruby: Wait… Ozpin, was married to the Grimm Empress…?
Jaune: Yes, and no. Back then he was, Ozma, but that was lifetimes ago. Much has changed since then.
Blake: But, if it happened lifetimes ago… Why are they still fighting?
Jaune: Beat the answer out of, Ozpin. I’m too tired to explain that, and pardon my language, that clusterfuck. Just leave, and leave us alone. We care not for his stupid little war, and we’d prefer it if we were left alone…
Weiss: T-This is ridiculous?!
Ruby: Weiss keep it down…!
Weiss: No! We came too far to allow this thing to stop us! Sacrificed too much to end here! And, we will not allow it to…?!
In the time it took to blink, the Empress’s Consort was upon, Weiss. But, no longer was the man they saw before was there anymore; Instead of Caucasian skin, golden hair, and striking blue eyes, was now an almost pale, corpse like skin, hair as white as bones, and eyes as red a freshly spilt blood. A Grimm of human’s stood before them, one struggling to contain its murderous rage.
It held Weiss’s mouth shut with a firce grip, he soon spoke with a voice of barely contained rage, as he stared down the frightened little girl of ice, and snow.
Jaune: SHUT. UP…
Blake: W-What the hell…?!
Yang: When the fuck did he bet there?!
Ruby: We’re sorry, so, so sorry! S-She’s Atlasian…?! Y-You know how uptight they get? Hehe…?!
Jaune: Hmm… Your promise to stop yelling, or must I slit your throat, so the last sound you ever make, is the sound of you choking to death on your own blood…?
Weiss’s eyes widened in raw fear as she frantically nodded her head, for she knew if this… thing wanted her dead, she would dead before she even realized it.
Jaune: Good…
Weiss: I-I-I’ll be quiet I swear! Quiet as a mouse!
She whispered softly as, Jaune let her go, his more bone coloured visage slowly disappearing to make him look more human in nature.
Yang: So… W-What was that… thing you just were?
Jaune: That is my, Grimm side… her majesty looks like that all the time, but far more elegant than I ever could.
Yang: Cool.
Blake: Seriously?
Yang: What, I think it’s cool, in that scary cool kind of way.
Weiss: Really?
Ruby: I think it’s scary cool too. Mostly scary though.
Jaune: Thank you… Now please… Leave. Her Majesty has far more pressing matters to attend… You lot will be just a distraction, one I will deal with if you get in our way.
Ruby: O-Okay… We’ll go… Bye~!
Weiss: Are we seriously going?!
Blake: Weiss, he could have killed you in the time it took us to blink! Do you seriously think we can win against that?!
Weiss: N-Noo…
Yang: Good them, we’re leaving… Bye, Mr. Arc…?
Jaune: Bye…
Blake: Let’s go guys, we need to have a word to, Ozpin about… all of this?
Ruby: Yeah, lets go before…?!
(CRASH!!!)
Yang: Something like that happens…?
Ruby: Yeah…
Ruby scythe, simply called Crescent Rose, a powerful, and deadly weapon unlike any other. However, it was bug, and bulky, and if it’s master, Ruby Rose wasn’t careful, she could easy hit something, just like the vase she just knocked over, where it’s shattering echoed through out the empty halls of the Grimm Empress’s Castle.
And all, Ruby could do was slowy turn her face towards the, Empress’s Consort with a sorry smile on her face, and a look of dread in her eyes.
Ruby: S-S-Sorry…?
Jaune: Haa… Don’t worry… I won’t kill you…
Ruby: R-Really…?!
Jaune: Yes… I won’t kill you…
Ruby: B-B-But why…?!
Jaune: Honestly… I hated that vase with a passion… So I won’t kill you…
Ruby: Oh! Thank you! Thankyouthankthankyou!
Jaune: However… She…
All froze as they heard a small cry echo throughout the halls of the castle. All recoiled in shock, and all, Arc did was drop his shoulders and sigh as he gave, Ruby a sad stare.
Jaune: She’s… She’s going to kill you though…
Ruby: Oh no…
Silence echoed throughout the hall as the sound of crying grew louder, and louder, and then, Salem the Grimm Empress appeared. Her bone white hair, frazzled, and uneven. Skin as pale as a corpse, covered by black veins in her skin, carried dark, and heavy bags under her eyes, blood red eyes. Her ghostly appearance was terrifying, and unnerving sending a chill down the spine of the group of hero’s. But, one thing about her stood above all.
There was a baby in her arms.
Salem: Whooo… Who woke the baby?!
The small child, no more than one year old, cried in the arms of the Grimm Empress. No doubt having been awoken from its slumber because of the crashing of the vase.
Jaune: It was… the red one… I-I didn’t get her name… I-I’m too tired to deal with this… I told them to leave… Then she knocked over that vase… And, yeah… woke, Thiriana up…
Salem: Which vase?!
Jaune: The one my mother got us…
Salem: That weird polka doted one that messed with the… Funksway of the castle?
Jaune: Yeah that one…
Jaune tiredly took a swig of his coffee before regretting the fact it was now cold. All the while, Salem smiled deviously as she looked at, Ruby with a mad look in her eyes.
Salem: Tell me… what is your name little girl dressed in red?
Ruby: R-Ruby… Ruby Rose!
Salem: Well then, Miss Ruby Rose, I thank you for ridding us of that most appalling vase. Considering the nature to our connection to it, we couldn’t dispose of it ourselves…
Jaune: Though we really wanted to…
Ruby: So… Does that mean you won’t kill me…?
Salem: No, I will kill you, I’ll just make sure its a quick death!
Ruby: Oh no…
Salem raised her hand in the air, untold possibilities lay within that hand, one Ruby was willing to face head on. Nut, before she could, someone else screamed out against such am act of violence. Or, one could say so at least, for one never entirely knows why babies will cry.
Salem: Oh no… Shh, shh, shhhh… It’s okay darling, mommy’s just dealing with some interlopers. These no meed to cry now.
As she gently rocked back her child, the blanket fell of revealing a small girl with Caucasian girl, with bone white hair, and deep gleaming sapphire eyes.
Salem: Haa… I just barely got her to sleep… now she’s wide awake again…?!
Before Salem, not Jaune could react, the unexpected happened, faster than the blink of an eye, Yang Xiao Long, and Weiss Schmee were before, Salem, cooing at the child with stars in their eyes.
WY: Ooooooo~! She’s so cute!!!
Jaune: What the?!
Yang: Look at her little hands, trying to grab my finger~!
Weiss: And, look at those beautiful little eyes of hers~! She going to be absolutely gorgeous when she grows up~!
Yang: Can I hold her?
Salem, and Jaune shared a look before, Jaune tiredly shrugged his shoulders. Salem bit her lip as she reluctantly gave, Yang her daughter, who held the child as if she was holding the worlds most delicate glass sculpture. Tears started to well up in, Yang’s eyes as she stared at the little bundle of joy within her arms.
Yang: She’s perfect…
Weiss: I want six like her when I grow up…
Jaune stared at the two no doubt now baby crazed woman as he looked out as the other two awkwardly stood there before looking at his exhausted wife. And, a small idea formed in his head.
Jaune: Let’s make a deal, Team RWBY…
Ruby: W-What kind of deal…?
Jaune: A simple one, you watch over our daughter for a while, and we promise not to kill you; easy enough right?
RWBY: What?!
Salem: Jaune?! You can’t be serious?!
Jaune: Why not? Something tells me we can trust these two to watch over her. And, besides…
Jaune picked up his, Empress with a startled squeak in his arms in a bridle carry.
Jaune: We can finally get some undesterbed sleep~!
Salem: Sleeeeeeeeep…
Jaune: So, What do you guys say, do we have a deal?
WY: Yes!
Ruby: What?!
Blake: Are you sure your wife will agree with such an idea? I mean we did come here to kill you, so…?
Jaune: Are you kidding? You couldn’t even if you tried. Besides, she’s already asleep.
The quartet looked down, and saw that, Salem was already fast asleep against, Jaune’s chest.
Ruby: Wow… she must be exhausted…
Jaune: Even the undying need their rest… Okay, so we have a deal?
Ruby: Okay… We have a deal.
Jaune: Marvellous~! Head down that hall way, third door on the left is the play room, you’ll find her toys, and a tv, all that stuff to distract a child’s spastic mind.
Ruby: Got it.
Jaune: Further down the hall is the bathroom, and the kitchen. You’ll find plenty of baby food for her down there, don’t grab the squash, she hates squash.
Yang: Smart kind.
Jaune: Okay… We’ll be on our way.
Ruby: Hope you sleep well, Mr. Arc!
Jaune: Thank you, Ruby.
Jaune was making his way down the opposite hall with his sleeping wife in his arms before he stop, and turns to face the group. A noticeable chill soon descended across the halls as they gazed upon him.
Jaune: A bit of a warning… Harm so much as one hair hair upon her head, I’ll break all the bones in your limbs, leave you laying on the ground watching helplessly as we destroy one of your precious little cities, and thats if I get to you first. Understood…?
Ruby: P-P-Perfectly! Not even a hair!
Jaune: Good…
Soon the duo disappeared down the halls of the castle, leaving quartet alone, where Ruby fell to her knees clutching her chest, breathing heavily.
Ruby: All of my life flashed before my eyes?!! It was really boring…
Yang: Well… Lets go take care of this little angel~!
Weiss: Can I hold her, Yang?
Yang: In a bit.
Weiss: Nawww…
Blake: Wait hold on guys… You can’t be serious?
Ruby: About what?
Blake: Watching over those things… kid?! Shouldn’t we use this time to escape?!
Yang: Blake, it’s a kid. We can handle this.
Blake: But it’s still their kid?!
Weiss: Blake, those to could have killed us with a snap of their fingers, the worst this baby can do is throw up on you. Which would you prefer to deal with?
Blake: W-Well…?
Ruby, Yang, and Weiss could only stare at their faunas friend dumbstruck. For out of everything they had gone through in the past ten minutes, this was too much to handle.
Ruby: Pathetic…
Blake: Hey?!
#rwby#jaune arc#yang xiao long#blake belladonna#weiss schnee#ruby rose#rwby salem#jaune x salem#salem x jaune#rwby grimmknight#rwby ozpin#rwby ozma
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caregiver age regresser / little pet regressor EJ
the test results finally came and you all voted for EJ I'm glad because I have the most ideas for him so here you go sorry if I have been delaying this again school and bullshit like that
EJ regresses involuntary and usually regresses to the ages of 3-6
EJ's pet regression is both voluntary and involuntary
EJ mostly became a caregiver because he wanted Liu ,Tim, Alex, Jay and Brian's back to be all right and he enjoys taking the role of a caregiver
BTW he's not only a pet regressor but also an other-kin
his kin-type is the same pet type that he is but a smaller version and instead of sounding like a siren and multiple animals growling it sounds like a dog or a constantly screaming bat it is a wendigo
EJ's favorite nicknames: little Cannibal Corpse ,our little cannibal,pumpkin latte, pumpkin pie ,baby, sweetheart ,pretty little psycho Etc
when EJ is in little space he likes to do the opposite of what he's told to do if you tell him to draw on a piece of paper He will draw on the wall
ej tends to be very fidgety and often needs fidget toys to calm down in a stressful environment
to trigger shifts or pet regression EJ just chases his butt or puts on a tail and chases it on all fours
favorite food tangerines, pumpkin Mash, yam french fries, sippy cup with water,flowers, red rice and blueberries an strawberries
favorite plushie: emotional support demon
his favorite paci is: dark blue with a little dinosaur
does he has Tantrums: no surprisingly, only emotional breakdowns
usually regresses when he is: getting reminded of his past a traumatic incident happens or he's just a tired little baby
#:3#creepypasta#creepypasta fandom#creepypasta agere#agere ben#creepypasta age regression#agere community#age regression sfw#age re#age re safe space#age regressing#age dreaming#age regression#age regression blog#age regression caregiver#age regression community#age regressive#age regressor#agere#agere blog#agere boy#agere caregiver#agere fandom#agere gear#agere lifestyle#agere little#agere outfit#agere outfits#agere post#agere sfw
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Okay, the app is starting to become self aware, I feel…
Addison, cut your losses with Tom.
“Look, I gotta go, Ben needs me, he totally didn’t just black out from too much coffee.”
Plot twist: Herbicore is poisoning the pumpkins, that’s why Steve’s wife has that cough.
I technically called it!
“Look, Connie, I finally figured out what the plot is, this weed eater shit is gonna kill everyone!”
Oh, great, Peacock’s running ads now.[/joke]
“I’m Chet Barlow of Herbicore, asking you to come to Denver. We’re not Detroit.”
…why does your brother look like a sex offender?
Joe doesn’t even know what’s going on, he is drunk as shit.
Why is this two weeks in a row where puns are plot points?
If only ad blockers existed in the 1980s…
“Do you think Chet knows his weed killer is dangerous?” Ben, he’s a CEO in the 1980s. Sucker’s bet.
Ben, if you don’t say a name now, Connie is gonna drop this story.
“He called you on that pay phone, right? Late night when he needs your love?”
“There’s no such thing as a dead end.” I name at least five Looney Tunes cartoons that would disagree.
Oh, goody, an inside job. So, calling it now: Just like in “Roberto!”, that guy is fucking dead now.
Okay, now I feel bad about calling Robbie a sexual predator…
I have a sinking suspicion their boss might be in on this…
“We need to keep this between the two of us. Now, if you know any ghosts, they can get lumped in as well.”
I admire the fact that Robbie didn’t opt to just bail.
“Who says I’m afraid?” “Is it your brother?” “…” “Okay, so you are afraid.”
I love how they are openly having this loud ass conversation in public.
Now, how long until Ben draw the connection between “this is killing farmers” and “Steve’s wife has that cough”.
Oh, goody, Chet is basically Gideon. God fuck, can’t he go away…
“I’ve seen people disappear. Sometimes in bight blue glowing light, they get replaced with other people and they don’t remember shit!”
“Look, we tried, it’s not like the episode isn’t even half over yet.”
And Steve becomes plot important!
“Herbicrop? I love that stuff, I’m swimming in tumors!”
Steve, your wife is fucking hacking up a lung, and you act like they’re spewing bullshit.
“Everything’s gonna be alright.” Episode is half over, there is a shoe yet to drop.
Ben, never do that again.
Davidson is 100% in on it, that was too fucking coincidental.
And it’s gonna be Robbie’s car in 5… 4… 3…
We are now 100% “Roberto!”
Ben, Connie is experiencing PTSD, maybe calm down.
…Connie, I think we both know that’s not what actually happened…
“Rule three: Fuck this job.”
Connie, if you think Ben is gonna stop, you are sadly mistake . [And sound goes off.]
Ian and Tom, stop pretending Magic isn’t gonna be the one to lose their job, just because he was pissed off, it doesn’t mean he’s letting anyone else take the fall under the bus.
And Ian, rightfully, goes the fuck off.
[Sound goes on.] And it’s time to get crunk.
…it only now just hit me that Addison never told Ben that… it been like two fucking episodes!
“What happened?” “What didn’t?”
Ben, unless your unknowingly leapt into the guy that planted that car bomb, stop blaming yourself for shit.
Now, that just sucks for Robbie: him dying is the Canon Event.
…or Robbie just fucking hates cars.
“Hey.” “I thought I fired you.” “I love how you thought that would work.”
“Look, I don’t care if Robbie is still alive, I still fired you.” “We both know I ain’t accepting that, Connie.”
“Look, Connie, I also suffer from being depressed about my actions.”
[Sound goes off.]
“So, is this the end of Quantum Leap?” NBC, YOU ARE IN THIN FUCKING ICE NOW
Tom, even if I already know the punchline, you should be the one to go.
“I wish there was another way.” Tom, you dumb idiot, you basically just gave Magic the go ahead…
[Sound goes on.]
Cut to The Pink Hotel.
“…so, you’re telling me I blew up my car for fucking nothing.”
I love how Robbie was willing to leave the country despite knowing he could’ve ended the episode early.
Look, Robbie, sometimes you gotta “Scorpion and the Frog” this shit.
I also love how the pink lighting is making Robbie look more depressed.
This is now a heist movie.
“What do you mean ‘Leverage the door’?” It means grab a flat thing, and break the door.
I love how the key to saving the day is just breaking shit.
I love how Ski Mask is acting real fucking cool right now, as if Ben isn’t gonna kick his ass.
Ben, I hope to fuck you rolled a Crit Success on Fast Talk.
And now Wyatt fears God.
…and is probably gonna meet him face to face.
Ben just kicked cancer’s ass.
And Connie pulls the Columbo maneuver.
Chet is about to get fucked by a pumpkin.
“It’s you.” “It’s always me.” …annnnnnd now my brain is trying to craft a Quantum Leap/FNAf crossover.
And Ben dips.
[Sound goes off, fuck you Tom.]
“Look, Tom, be honest, we both knew Ben was gonna win out in the end.” “Honestly, same.”
And now, for the most obvious ending of the episode!
“Look, Tom saved our asses, but Gideon wants someone fired. And it can’t be Ian, and I ain’t firing you, and Addison wasn’t even in this subplot, so… … … (leaves)”
And we end with a dedication to Matt Dale. Watch as NBC promptly fumbles the bag, and cancels the show next week…
So, next week’s a two-fer, Magic is quitting, and Gideon is still fucking here!
Happy Valentine’s Day!
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Apprenticember Pt. 1 (Days 1-6)
Introduce your apprentice! Just their name, personality, appearance, and likes/dislikes for now! If you have pictures of them, post them today!
Ximena Ariti.
(a quick little WIP I worked up of her yesterday)
Pronouns: She/Her
Birthday: March 3 (Pisces)
Age: 28
Height: 5'6"
Hair: Black, long, just wavy enough to be unruly
Eyes: She has heterochromia. The left is pale green, the right pale blue
Familiar: Ember the black sable ferret
Personality: Quiet and more reserved with strangers, a big teasing goof with friends. Chaotic neutral.
Favorite Color: Blue
Favorite Food: Buttered noodles with grated cheese
Favorite Drink: Chai tea
Favorite Dessert: Coffee cake
Favorite Season: Autumn
Likes: Reading, painting, dancing, nature, collecting things (stones, shells, feathers), staying up late, stargazing
Dislikes: Hot weather, waking up early, cooking, pompous nobles, any insect with more than six legs
2. Who is their LI? What’s their relationship like?
Julian. She was doomed from the second she smashed that bottle on his head when he broke into the shop the first time (a story she loves retelling, mostly to embarrass him). His outlandish and outgoing nature helps bring out the fun, slightly more extroverted parts of her that she lost after she lost her memories. Going out drinking and dancing and being foolish feels natural with him, instead of daunting. In turn, she tries to keep him from doing things that are too exceptionally stupid, or, failing that, pull his ass out of the fire when he can't bullshit his own way out.
When they aren't out causing a ruckus (or in causing a ruckus), they do both enjoy just sitting quietly and reading together, usually in a tangled pile on the nearest soft surface. Julian also tends to drape himself over her like a giant, leggy blanket after a long day. He has occasionally fallen asleep while doing so.
Ximena has numerous sketches and paintings featuring her dorky doctor, and he gets very flustered every time he realizes she's made another one.
Julian was super unsure after he let her see his red eye the first time, "Are you sure this doesn't bother you? Really sure? It's not creepy or off-putting or disturbing?" Her answer was an eyeroll and, "You giant ninny, my eyes don't match either. Why would it bother me that yours don't?"
3. Give a short summary of their relationship to the other main characters!
Asra: Their relationship isn't what it used to be. They're still friends, but it's a little strained. Mostly because she can't believe he would put so much at risk to bring her back from the dead, what the hell dude? Not that she isn't enjoying being alive again, but that level of obsession seems unhealthy and makes her want to thwack him on the head.
Nadia: She likes her well enough, but the Countess is juuust slightly too posh for her. Once Nadia realizes that super expensive gifts make Ximena uncomfortable, they become pretty good friends and have tea together regularly.
Portia: They hit it off immediately. Portia is bubbly and fun but still down-to-earth and just absolutely adorable. She considers her a sister long before they become sister-in-laws. She's also really impressed with Portia's ability to turn on the waterworks to get her way, and will definitely pull the don't-make-me-call-your-sister card with Julian when necessary.
Muriel: They have a mutual understanding of 'nature is better when the humans are quiet'. He and Innana walk with Ximena and Ember through the woods, helping her gather herbs and other reagents for her shop. She brings him pumpkin bread from the market. It's peaceful and simple.
Lucio: He's a stupid goat and she's glad to be rid of him.
4. What about the courtiers? Have they met them? What do they think of them?
Volta is the only courtier she actually likes. She keeps snacks for her. She finds Vlastomil gross and creepy, Vulgora is exhausting, and she both despises and is terrified of Valdemar. Valerius earned himself a permanent spot on her shitlist by dumping wine on her when they met, and she's been a petty magician out for revenge ever since.
5. Do they have any other friends outside of canon? What about the minor characters?
Mazelinka wins her over that first night, and she quickly picks up the threaten-Julian-with-a-wooden-spoon thing from her. She's less effective with it than Mazelinka is, but it's the thought that counts. Ximena also becomes fast friends with Natiqa, who she bonds with over a love of harmless mischief and colorful clothes. Ironically, she also hit it off with Nazali about fashion as well, since she agrees with them that being comfortable and easy to work in matters way more than what clothes actually look like (she just happens to like things that are colorful as well as comfy). Ximena actually likes Nazali's 'hideous' orange waist-pouch, much to Nadia and Natiqa's chagrin.
6. Now, do they have any rivals? Maybe even a WORST ENEMY!? Spill the deets now!
Valerius. Not an enemy, but definitely a rival. Spilling that wine on her was a huge mistake, and now she spends every second that she's in the same room screwing with him. Lift the rug just enough to make him trip, a sudden breeze that slaps him in the face with his own braid, oops, his wine is suddenly just grape juice. Anything to embarrass him that can't actually be traced back to her. He knows she's doing it and is very greatly aggravated that he can't prove it. (Nadia and Natiqa are also aware that she's doing it, and fully support it. Natiqa even helps sometimes.)
#apprenticember#the arcana#apprentice Ximena#fan apprentice#julian devorak#portia devorak#asra alnazar#nadia satrinava#muriel of the kokhuri#lucio morgasson#that took longer to write up than i expected#still fun tho
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What's the Diablo lore [I wanna hear about them] [They seem cool] [I dont know what pronouns they use]
:OOOO
YAY I GET TO SHARE OC LORE
Okok, so I’m going to share my order of Hip to the Javabean songs I’m going to animate, and explain what happens in the songs
Consumer Whore: mostly just an introduction songs to my boy Diablo, some Rottweilers steal his money yadayada
Between You and Me: Diablo goes back home and talks to his girlfriend, Maria!(the husky in my banner) and at the very end of the song they finally meet up
There’s A Robot in My Head: Maria gets a parasite in her head D:
Sick Puppy: The parasite starts controlling her mind and making her more aggressive, eventually getting her killed
Relativity: Diablo mourns over her unfortunate passing :(
The World is a Pumpkin(random unreleased track I know :3): Diablo see’s an ad to audition for a band and he decides to try it out, this song is his audition song
Sunbeam Light Show Flower Seed: mighty ol’ Todd(the yellow and blue guy in my banner) absolutely fucking despises his audition and mocks him, then kicks him out.
Telekinesis: after getting kicked out and begging to be let into the band, he gives up and mourns that as well
Matches and Nails: mighty ol’ Todd comes back and uses a sledgehammer to slam Diablo’s head onto a railroad nail (youch!), after that Diablo’s brain starts to get filled with random thoughts
I Know Your Name: Diablo’s mind starts convincing him that everyone’s name is Bob, y’know. The usual. But then he gets this awesome idea that, what if. Get this. HE BURNS DOWN THE SUPERMARKET TO ACHIEVE WORLD PEACE!! so he did. And accidentally trapped himself in said supermarket
Atomic Copper Claw: After losing his right hand to the fire, he builds himself a new one, and mighty ol’ Todd comes back and embarrases him in public and scaring everyone away from him, claiming that his new hand was ‘atomic’ and ‘dangerous’. Diablo gets fed up with his bullshit and scratches his face(leaving that scar on his eye)
Your Evil Shadow Has a Cup of Tea: nothing much happens here, had to put this song here. Besides, there’s gonna be little sneak peek characters that appear later on in a Spirit Phone song >:3
Fancy Pants Manifesto: mighty ol’ Todd is in his prime of fame. And sings about it I guess.. yay!(once I asked a Todd AI bot that I made what his band was named, it responded with “Todd and the awesome awesome” and I totally agree)
Behold the FUTURE: the guys I was talking about in Your Evil Shadow has a Cup of Tea also appear here and kinda make mighty ol’ Todd appear on the news and lie about the future, which ruins his reputation tenfold
Go to Hollywood: uh oh! Mighty ol’ Todd isn’t so mighty anymore and is now starting to Lose his fame :(
Musical Chairs: Todd gets upset and sings about it, Diablo coming in on the last verse(I think that’s what part of the song it is) and mocks HIM!
Bad Idea: Todd fucking dies
Snakes on a Plane(another unreleased track man, I’m such a goofy guy): A guy releases a bunch of snakes on a plane and Diablo gets fucking terrified
I’ve Got Some Falling to Do: Diablo slips and falls out the plane :(
Take a Picture: Diablo as a ghost, talking about his past life and what he wishes he could’ve changed :(
WOO IM DONE!
That took awhile but yeah! :D
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A Slippery Slope
Because I am addicted to writing challenges, I am doing some @summer-of-whump stuff even though I have BTHB to do! This is a bit late, but it’s Freddy and T for day one, “Once I start, I won’t be able to stop, all right?”
Tagging robo people - @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump, @wolfeyedwitch, @redwingedwhump, @ocean-blue-whump, @impalasexual, @i-can-even-burn-salad, @sadcatjae, @whump-cravings, @kawhump, @pumpkin-spice-whump, @winedark-whump, @whumpingmydarlings, @maracujatangerine
TW: dehumanization, nonhuman whumpee, robot/android/cyborg whumpee, nothing explicit but some ominous vibes
It’s a long weekend again. Freddy thinks this one is President’s Day, maybe, but he can’t honestly imagine why they’d have a day off for President’s Day.
Although he, actually, doesn’t have the day off. As per usual, he’s doing the grunt work, the cleanup, the things no one else wants to do. Freddy doesn’t mind hanging out with T or checking up on him. They’ve had a lot of fun on those off days. Freddy brings in different snack foods for T to try or they play card games. Some days, Freddy can even forget that they’re trapped in a featureless room thirty feet below the surface of the earth. He and T can hang out. They can even have fun.
Today isn’t like that. Today, T is hooked up to machines that monitor his breathing, blood pressure, heartbeats per minute. He’s sitting on the cot, totally relaxed, waiting for Freddy to start running tests. Freddy is the one who’s sitting on his laptop, tense as can be, freaked out, deeply unhappy with the assigned task for the day. He keeps glancing up at T with fear and guilt in his eyes, and T keeps staring back at him, calm as can be. It’s driving Freddy crazy.
“I’m really sorry about this,” he tells T for the billionth time.
The test subject tips his head. “Testing new code is routine. There’s nothing to be sorry for.”
“T…” Freddy frowns. “I just don’t like…testing stuff on you. I don’t know. It feels…it feels weird to be messing with…with your body like this.”
A crease appears between T’s eyes. “The purpose of the body is for testing. Improvements on biological features-”
“I…I get it, T.” Freddy attempts a tight smile. “I just…I’m worried.”
“That it will…hurt me?” Freddy glances up, surprised, to see T watching him. “You’re often worried about that.”
Letting his hands slip off his keyboard, Freddy turns more fully toward T. “Yeah. Yeah, T, I worry about that. I worry if any of this is…is fair to you.”
T has long since stopped staring at Freddy in simple amazement, even when he says things as ludicrous as this. “It’s what I’m made for,” he says quietly, and Freddy swallows, hard.
“Okay.” He’s going to have to run the tests anyway, so why argue with T? Why convince T that he deserves better and then go right ahead and pull the same bullshit all over again? With a bitter taste in his mouth, Freddy explains the tests he’s about to run.
“This is a new segment of code intended to increase your lung capacity and oxygen intake. Wagner and Layla and I wrote it together and…and it should work. Painlessly. Just make everything more efficient. I have to…I have to test it on you before we…before we add it permanently. And once I start, I won’t be able to stop, all right?”
“Understood, sir.”
“Please don’t call me sir, T.”
T sighs. “Understood…Freddy.”
Freddy smiles, happy to hear his name on T’s tongue. It’s the last time he’ll be smiling, and the last time T will be talking, for a long, long while.
#freddy and the robot#lab whump#robot whumpee#robot whump#android whumpee#android whump#cyborg whumpee#cyborg whump#nonhuman whumpee#male whumpee#complicit caretaker#ominous vibes#summerofwhump#summerofwhumpday1#summerofwhump2022#summerofwhump2022day1
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I posted 5,660 times in 2022
1,186 posts created (21%)
4,474 posts reblogged (79%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@andmaybegayer
@seat-safety-switch
@official-kircheis
@girlfriendsofthegalaxy
@triviallytrue
I tagged 3,299 of my posts in 2022
Only 42% of my posts had no tags
#furry bullshit - 180 posts
#video games - 173 posts
#ask - 164 posts
#computer stuff - 159 posts
#tumblr meta - 139 posts
#insects - 116 posts
#birds - 113 posts
#anonymous - 109 posts
#bugs - 104 posts
#my photography - 91 posts
Longest Tag: 138 characters
#my beloved everyone hates you because you are so loud and annoying but i like you even though you broke into my house and broke my candles
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
blorbonic plague (when you start watching Shows because your mutuals post a lot about their blorbo.)
32,549 notes - Posted April 26, 2022
#4
Shout out to the guy at the municipal waste dump who tried to sell me weed but used slang that I am so incredibly unfamiliar with that he had to keep simplifying his sell until he literally settled on "I am selling weed, do you want to buy some."
37,549 notes - Posted July 30, 2022
#3
I think so much about the food people ate pre-Columbian exchange. Huge parts of cuisine extremely important on both sides of the pond just didn't exist.
You've probably heard a little about what was brought over from the New World, corn, potatoes, cocoa, cassava, peanuts, chili peppers, avocadoes, cranberries, pumpkins, and the like. Imagine cooking without chili! Without potatoes! Modern Indian cuisine contains enormous amounts of potatoes and we just didn't have those for the vast majority of history. The best of the nightshades all on one contiguous hunk of land. Hell, tomatoes! Almost forgot about those.
But we don't often look at what the Old World had. Wheat! Barley! Rice! A profusion of incredible grains, really, the finest poaceae has to offer. Carrots! Tons of rosaceous plants like apples and cherries and pears and peaches and apricots! Grapes! Soy and Bamboo! Okra and watermelon! All these things were simply never found in the Americas. The grains one is the wildest for me, the variety of grains available across Eurasia and Africa was truly astounding.
You know what binds together the food of all cultures across the world? Onions. Onions are fucking everywhere. There's probably onions growing near you right now. Allium Gang Unite.
39,921 notes - Posted August 6, 2022
#2
I think an important instinct you have to build up when you read/watch sci-fi is discerning which things are givens. If Arrival tells you that the alien language is atemporal, it is, that's not a puzzle for you to pick apart, it's a prerequisite to getting the rest of the story. When I talk sci-fi with people who don't consume a lot of it this seems to be a thing they get hung up on.
44,050 notes - Posted April 6, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
shout out to the guy helping me at the sports equipment store who was like "yeah these come in pink or blue or black but they're all transgender- I mean they're all unisex."
45,332 notes - Posted March 20, 2022
Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →
#tumblr2022#year in review#my 2022 tumblr year in review#your tumblr year in review#false#Tumblr meta
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——— 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐓 !
» — 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄. jett quinton
» — 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐍. single / married .
» — 𝐄𝐘𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐑. blue.
» — 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐑. dark brown.
» — 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐒. henry quinton ( father / deceased ), lilah quinton ( mother / deceased ), dillon quinton ( sister / deceased ), doxan quinton ( half brother ), nicole quinton ( half sister )
» — 𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐒. dachshund named duke
» — 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄. bigots. enough said.
» — 𝐇𝐎𝐁𝐁𝐈𝐄𝐒 / 𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒. working out, working on his 1967 impala that he got at a police auction, sitting in a starbucks & just drinking coffee .
» — 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐔𝐑𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄. yes, but emotionally and physically.
» — 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄. depending on the verse, yes.
» — 𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌. artic wolf.
» — 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐒. biting nails, smoking, spitting.
» — 𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐒. n/a.
» — 𝐒𝐄𝐗𝐔𝐀𝐋 𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍. pansexual, baby.
» — 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐆𝐄 / 𝐊𝐈𝐃𝐒. he’s already done marriage. his wife tried to get pregnant, didn’t work out. he figured it’s for the better that way. also, divorce came after all this bullshit stuff happened, so.. yeah. he doesn’t want to get married again. he rather focus on his own shit and as for kids, he MIGHT think about adopting one... or something like that, but his position is too dangerous for a kid really.
» — 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒. being killed. as fucking dumb and reckless as he is sometimes, that fear is always in the back of his head. even if he says he’s ready to die, no one is truly ready to die.
» — 𝐒𝐓𝐘𝐋𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒. he has a full decked out closet. he has his once upon a time usual police uniforms, but hardly wears them now as he got promoted to detective. so he mainly has SUITS & TIES, all that basic detective wear. he also prefers to wear button ups when not on the clock or he wears casual logo tees from various brand shops like vans, addidas, nike & champion. as for bottoms, he enjoys to wear shorts more than anything, because he hates restriction in his legs, but is obviously restrained to that in his suits, so when given the chance he wears the fuck out of shorts.
» — 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄. his dog. his mom too, but ya know rip.
» — 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐀𝐂𝐇 𝐓𝐎 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏𝐒. he loves meeting and making new friends. he’s really a kind soul when he’s NOT on duty. when he’s on duty, he’s more of a badass & don’t fucking say any lie to me or i’ll fuck you up, kind of guy. but when he’s not on clock he’s like yo, sorry wanna get a beer?
» — 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐈𝐄. pie? well, he LOVES pie, he especially loves banana cream pie & pumpkin pie.
» — 𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐊. coffee or whiskey
» — 𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐀𝐓. in his office at home, researching stuff like the police nerd he is.
» — 𝐒𝐖𝐈𝐌 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐂𝐄𝐀𝐍. jett has a fear of open water, so lake it is if he really had to pick...
» — 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐓𝐘𝐏𝐄. for girls, he LOVES blondes, but brunettes are adorable too. he has a thing for younger women too, i mean not THAT young, just in the general twenties around there. uh, for guys same thing, but he doesn’t mind guys a bit older than him too. he’s less picky on guys, but he do love a guy with nice brown eyes or green eyes. just saying...
» — 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐑 𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐎𝐑. he can do either.
» 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 — no one.
» 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 — everyone on my dash bc yolo and i haven’t said this yet sooo have at it.
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Tag Game
So, I’ve been tagged by @phantomechospics, let’s see if I got this right.
Relashionship status
Married for 3 years now, been together for almost 9. To this day, I’m still amazed by how they can handle me everyday ^^
Favorite colors
Sometimes it’s blue, sometimes green, purple, red, orange... Whatever color suits my mood. It’s often a bright color though
Favorite foods
That’s a hard one... Bolognese, sushi? It depends on my mood, but I never say no to sushi. I make them myself if I find a nice piece of salmon that’s not too expensive.
Song suck in my head
Gank your heart by Wang Yibo, Fire by Wang Yibo... Been pretty obsessed by his songs lately. They’re not only in my head though. I make the people around me suffer through my looping playlist of Wang Yibo.
Last thing you googled
Pokéclicker Alola region
Time
11:24PM, Saturday Oct. 29th, 2022 (CET)
Dream Trip
Go back to Japan, stay at a Ryokan in Kyoto, go to Sapporo again, visit Arashiyama again, make a trip to Tokyo... Just enjoy Japan as best as I can, with all its views, its food and amazingly careful people. Mandatory husband this time.
Last thing you read/book you enjoyed reading (those were 2 separate questions but I’m a lazy bun so...)
Mo Dao Zu Shi fanfiction
Arsène Lupin book
My Hero Academia manga
Favorite thing to cook/bake
Sushi/maki/onigiri. I just love salmon and nori, and I can shape those however I want to. Last Halloween I did pumpkin sushi with nori eyes and mouths, it was fun.
Favorite craft to do in your spare time
Currently wood carving, but also leather working, sewing, drawing, writing (does it count as a craft? Not sure). I’ve got tons of stuff I need to do until Christmas time, and not enough of time to do it.
Most niche dislike
I really don’t have any patience for people bullshitting themselves. Lie to others if you must, but don’t lie to yourself, you’re wasting your time and the time of those around you.
Opinion on circuses
For some reason, I have a profound dislike of it. I don’t like the use of animals in it, but I also really don’t like the idea in general. I think it scares me lol.
Do you have a sense of direction
Heh. I can read a map perfectly, but can’t follow a GPS to save my life.
So, this is the part where I’m supposed to tag someone right? I’d say @bakathief and @brotato-chibs love your art guys, so yeah, you’re the unfortunate souls I chose out of my very limited knowledge of Tumblr people ^^’’
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Get to Know You Game
Guess I should probably do this after getting four separate tags 😂
❤️Thank you @thecharmedburrowspn-files (original post) @sterling-writes (original post) @karimac (original post) & @santacarlahorrorshow (original post)!! ❤️
(Am I slightly embarrassed by the fact that I haven't read a 'new' book in a while - damn right I am- (🔔Shame🔔) I've been writing self indulgent nonsense/reading too much on AO3; don't judge me!)
Rules: tag 10 people you want to get to know better!
Relationship Status: Married w. Small Children
Favorite Color: Teal & Rose Gold
Favorite Food: Unagi Rolls
Song Stuck in your Head: Girl Who Cried Wolf by Numblife - it came up on a shuffle search. It's not one I'd use with my story (Actually seems more like a Terry Phelps song to me), but if I think about it at all, it sticks around for a few additional hours after.
Last Think You Googled: Average size of a Blue Whale. My son wanted to know how many living rooms long it is.
Time: 1:22pm (but started at 9:34 am, and done in very small portions since then)
Dream Trip: I used to say places that were beautiful to Scuba dive; I want to see a shark. But with how I've been feeling lately, don't know if I have the energy for all that. Is there somewhere I could go that doesn't have constantly assaulting sounds and my muscles won't hurt? A magical fantasy land spa?
Last Book you Read: Re-read Stephen King's Stand - character research, dammit!
Last Book you Enjoyed Reading: the Stand? ...feels like a trick question...
Last Book you Hated Reading: I have to do "Continuing Education" for my job. It's bullshit, and setup to just get your money because they know it's a requirement. Every course is just the same information copy and pasted poorly in a different order. I'd rather beat my head against a brick wall.
:: Bonus ::
Favorite Thing to Cook/Bake: I like doing main course things. Whole turkeys/chickens, steaks... I have a Honey Garlic Salmon that turns out well (but my family hates fish so I don't get to cook that one much...)
Favorite Craft to do in your Free Time: I like doing a fair share of creative things (after a liberal amount of vape hits). Writing has been taking all spare time recently, but I like sketching on my tablet and painting too. And I tend to make a big to-do over Halloween - pumpkin carving, costumes, effects make-up...
Most Niche Dislike: I mean, the big ones -bigotry, discrimination, bullying- should be a given. But if we're looking for stupid odd things I dislike, (which I'm pretty sure is the point), I cannot stand the sound of an empty mechanical pencil scraping against paper. I have no further explaination.
Opinion on the Circus: Never really been to one... I went to fairs cause they're local and less documented animal cruelty (except for the fish you can win in the ping pong ball toss games - those poor fuckers don't stand a chance.) At least there's cotton candy, I guess?
Do You Have a Sense of Direction: I am the navigator on all road trips, but that's because my partner refuses to give up driving, and I can work the apps better. I'm not a fan, and have to Dramamine up. I'm not sure what I'd be like without a GPS tbh...
As for tagging - I am but a small blog that has procrastinated a long time on this. 😬 I'm pretty sure I saw pretty much all of my mutuals already posting theirs. If you haven't and want to - rock on. I tag you, and tag me back - I'd love to hear your answers!!
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