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#i want more fics where like
governmentissuedclone · 5 months
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The worst Stranger Things fic trope is "every single thing Steve likes is objectively bad and needs to be 'fixed' by his friends" let the man wear polo shirts and like sports yeesh
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olibensstuff · 7 months
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they can’t stand eachother they told me
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fiepige · 7 months
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Compilation of EVERY single time they changed Hobie's filter in the digital version:
Left: Theatrical release Right: Digital release
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You might have to click on some of them to get a better look at Hobie, sadly I don't have a video editor that allows me to make better edits than these :')
#This took so long to make lol#cause I had to edit every scene with Hobie from both versions so I could watch them right after one another to compare them#I did this with ALL the scenes he's in also the ones where he's on screen as spider-punk#but they only changed his filters in these scenes so it was a waste of time :')#sidenote: no it wasn't it's never a waste of time to look at hobie I just couldn't use it for my GIFset lol#I also made a bouns one but I'm not allowed to post more than 30 GIFs in one post apparently so I guess I just won't add it then...#but Hobie was basically filterless during all these scenes in the theatrical version#I like that they gave him more different filters in the digital version#the only change I don't like is in the first GIFs#cause like that one post pointed out it looks like they removed his lipstick for some reason#also really wish I had a better video editor so we could get a closer look at Hobie but I did my best with what I had#also slowed some of them down to get a better look at them#been having this idea for a while and now I finally finished it!#which means I can go back to working on my fics now#hopefully lol#also lemme know if there are some other scens you guys want me to make comparisons of#cause I have both versions#the theatrical release isn't the highest quality though so if you know where I can get my hands on a better version lemme know ;)#hobie brown#spider punk#miles morales#spider man#peter b parker#jess drew#miguel o'hara#spider man across the spider verse#across the spider verse#across the spiderverse#atsv#theatrical version
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thatonebirdwrites · 4 months
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When the news came, Lena was in a meeting with Sam and the L-Corp's board. She'd long ago set all alerts for Supergirl to come through to her phone, but ones where Supergirl was injured had been set to ignore all other settings.
The ring caused Sam to jump, but Lena kept her cool. She glanced down at her phone, and felt her veins turn to ice. A brief message that Supergirl had fallen from the sky.
Shit.
Lena grabbed her phone and bag. "I regret that I must take this call. An emergency has come up."
Sam looked at her, her brow furrowed in worry. "I can handle this, Lena. Go."
With a tight smile to her friend and CFO, Lena hurried from the room. She swapped out her shoes, and took off in a sprint. The alert had given her an intersection, but she needed to know if Alex knew about this yet.
Lena: Alex, I'm incoming.
Alex: wait, what?
Lena: Kara, she's fallen.
Alex: The hell? She's supposed to be eating lunch! Was in a meeting. Where?
Lena forwarded the alert's text, baffled that Alex had no idea.
Alex: How close are you? It's gonna take me fifteen minutes. J'onn unavailable.
Lena: Be there in five.
The doors of the elevator opened. Why drive when she could take the helicopter? When her pilot reached the intersection, Lena stared in horror. Someone had what looked like a missile launcher over their shoulder, and Kara laid in a cracked hole in the street in front of Noonan's. So Alex had been correct, Kara had been getting lunch, as drinks and food was spilled across the curb. People clustered in the doorways of the cafe and storefronts, and Kara's supersuit had a burn mark across its front.
Fuck.
"Hold us steady," Lena ordered the pilot. She grabbed a bag from behind her seat. In case of an attack -- considering she had quarterly assassination attempts all the time -- she had some specific weapons in here. One of them was a shotgun with some unusual shells. She flicked through her supplies and decided on a particularly useful set. She popped in the shells, cocked the gun, and threw open the door. The person started to look up, but Lena wasn't giving them a chance to react. She fired. The shots slammed into the person's back and immediately ice formed. She fired again. This time the person fell to the ground as a block of ice. Cryo shells had their use. She reloaded and gestured to her pilot.
He brought the helicopter closer to the ground. "Watch my back," she said, mostly out of habit, though she doubted the pilot could do anything. "And stay in the air. We'll need a quick exit." "Right, Ms. Luthor." He kept his gaze on the controls, his voice coming through her headset.
She jumped to the ground, her shotgun cocked. As she scanned the area, she realized, to her dismay, that another person stood in the shadows of the storefront across from Noonan's, armed with some sort of long rifle. Why the person hadn't fired yet confused her.
Lena aimed but didn't fire yet. She didn't have confidence that her shot would hit before the other took her out. "Step away from Supergirl."
The person wasn't that much taller than herself. Curly blonde hair leaked out of the black beanie, and blue eyes regarded her from under a black mask, their clothes definitely assassin-like. "Stay out of this, Luthor." A high-pitched voice. Possibly a woman?
"This is my business." Lena stalked closer. "Don't think I won't take you out like your friend there." She nodded at the other person dressed in black with a black mask over their face, their eyes closed. Ice was still encased around their lower body.
Lena wished she'd seen the person earlier. Otherwise she'd have fired on them too. Now they were in a stand-off exactly when Kara needed her the most.
"I don't want to do this," the woman in black said. "You're not on our list."
"Then step away now. Don't think I won't fire."
The woman stared at her for a long moment as if sizing her up. Her voice timbre changed to a hint of coy and frustrated. "Why do you care, Lena Luthor? Doesn't your family hate Kryptonians?"
Lena rolled her eyes. "I'm not them." She needed to distract her somehow. At least until Alex got here or Lena could fire the shot without getting hit in turn. "Now, how about you put down your weapon, I'll put down mine, and we'll talk like civilized people?"
The woman hesitated, her rifle moved just an inch down.
That was when the shot came from above. The bullet hit the woman's shoulder, she staggered backward, and Lena took the shot. Two blasts later, the woman was encased in ice like her friend.
Lena slung the shotgun over her shoulder and raced to Kara's side. "Supergirl!" She dropped next to her and felt for Kara's pulse. It was faint, far too faint. "Dammit." She didn't have time to check for injuries. Kara needed extracted immediately. "Riordan, drop the stretcher," she said into her headset.
The helicopter hovered closer, and a side door slid open. The stretcher shot out, swung, and slowed to a stop above her head. She reached up, snagged its side, and pulled on its rope until she had it next to Kara. It took two tries to lift the Kryptonian -- damn, Kara was heavy -- until she had Kara on and belted in securely. Flicking the switch on the bottom of the stretcher, a set of footrests dropped into place.
After she clamped her shoes onto the footrests, she noticed several people had started to come out of the stores with their phones in their hands, likely recording her rescue.
Whatever. All Lena cared about was Kara. "Go," she ordered her pilot, and held on tightly as the helicopter lifted toward the sky.
TO BE CONTiNUED...
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In the 19 years Steve's lived in this house, never once has he slammed his front door like that. Too scared of his parents' wrath should it have caused any damage.
It feels good.
He almost turns around to do it again, a fuck you to his parents and every decision they ever forced on him, but then he remembers. They're all in there. Nancy, Jonathan, Argyle, Eddie, Robin. In his living room, making declarations and decisions about Steve's life for him. Or, well, one of them is.
Like his parents do. Did?
He didn't grab his keys, wallet, or even his coat, but he's not going back for them. It's cold, sure, but Steve's sure his anger will keep him warm until he reaches a destination. Any destination.
He just doesn't understand why- Why they keep doing this to him.
Why he keeps letting them.
No. No, that's a lie. He keeps letting them because he knows, deep down, he's not a fighter. Not for himself.
He'll put himself between the ones he loves and danger in a heartbeat; he's done that since the first time he watched a petal-faced monster peel its way out of the Byers' wall in '83.
But his parents trained the fight right out of him when it came to himself. It was easier to not argue, to just do what they wanted. They'd smile at him when he was good. They'd take him with on shorter business trips when he behaved. His mom would even allow a quick hug if he impressed a shareholder with how well-mannered and quiet he was.
He won their affections with obedience.
He's never- Nancy and he love each other now, but in the same way they all love each other after having survived the horrors the Upside Down. But Nancy never loved him the way he'd once loved her. That was bullshit.
Even Robin and Dustin. He knows they love him now. Will love him forever, going forward, but both had admitted to having a predetermined idea of who Steve was and what he was like and they weren't wrong but they also weren't right because Steve's never been Steve a goddamn day in his life.
Steve hadn't even known Steve until monsters came into his life.
The way everyone used to refer to him as the Steve Harrington was a judgement all its own. A thing that he was, and had no say to be otherwise.
Even Eddie, in the Upside Down, and now, in his own house.
Steve finally feels like he might be becoming who he really is and he's surrounded by friends and it just made him stupid. He'd thought it was confidence, when he pulled Eddie aside to talk, to confess, but then-
Eddie telling him he's confused. Like Steve is a child learning new concepts and not an adult who has been questioning how he feels about men since he first noticed other boys in middle school.
Eddie telling him, 'you don't want this, man. Not really.'
It's not fair.
Robin came out to him, and he'd just wanted to make her laugh so she would quit looking so scared. Eddie came out to him, and Steve had thanked him for trusting him. Jonathan, Nancy, and Argyle confess to all dating each other and Steve congratulated them. But Steve comes out and gets told he's confused?
And Steve didn't even refute it. Just got so hurt he couldn't be there anymore. Left his own house because he'd told Eddie he had a crush on him, and asked if he'd like to go on a date sometime and Eddie said no and told him he was confused.
Eddie doesn't get to decide that for Steve! No one but himself can decide if he like guys or not. No one gets to tell him he's confused about what he's feeling.
It's- that's bullshit, is what it is!
Steve turns on his heel and marches back to his house. His hurt has fully morphed to anger now.
Steve hasn't run away from a fight since '83, and he's not going to start now.
He rips his front door open and is greeted to everyone just inside the door, in various states of putting their winter clothes back on. All the faces look concerned, but he scans for Eddie's.
Eddie who looks relieved for all of two seconds, when it seems to dawn on him that Steve is angry, and it's directed at him.
"The appropriate response," Steve growls as he steps through his door and punctuates those words by slamming it shut again. (It's not as satisfying this time, because he sees how it makes his friends jump.) He barrels on with his words, eyes never leaving Eddie, "when someone comes out to you, is to say 'thanks for telling me' or perhaps even 'thanks for trusting me' or, if one is so inclined, to just say 'cool, dude' but you don't get- you don't get to tell me I'm confused!"
Eddie takes a step back, knocking directly in Argyle, who steadies him, but he doesn't say anything.
Maybe Steve should be more calm about this, given the audience, but he's not able to stop the words now that they've started. "I'm not confused, and I know exactly what I'd be getting into. You don't get to- to try and make your rejection my fault. If you don't wanna date me, just say so. But you don't get to try and tell me how I feel about you!"
From the corner of his eye, he can see Nancy trying to subtly shift herself and Jonathan away from the door, probably to get out of what really should be a private conversation, but Jonathan's a bit preoccupied by catching Robin around the waist as she lunges towards Eddie.
"What the fuck did you say, Munson!" Robin growls, arms swinging out like she's going to claw Eddie to death.
Argyle has inched back a bit, putting distance between him and Eddie in case Robin breaks free. "You dudes should probably talk this out in private."
"Byers, if you don't let me go right now-"
"Robbie, I got this," Steve says, because Robin shouldn't be turning on Jonathan when he's done nothing wrong. Robin continues to glare at Eddie for a few seconds before she makes eyes contact with Steve. He raises his brows slight -I got this- and she furrows hers -are you sure?-, so he tilts his head -yes, really- and she deflates in Jonathan's arms and allows him to drag her away.
"We'll just be in the rec room," Nancy says, looping her arm through Argyles and following after Jonathan.
Eddie doesn't bolt, which is a bit more than Steve expected. They both just stare at each other until they hear the click of the rec room door.
"Steve-"
"That was fucked up, Eddie," Steve interrupts.
"Yeah. It was," Eddie says, but doesn't offer up more, even though Steve is waiting for an apology.
"That kind of reaction is exactly why I didn't come out sooner. What would be the fucking point if no one even believed me? Or worse, if you'd given me that kind of reaction like, six months ago, I probably never admit to liking guys out loud ever again. You can't just- you can't decide this kind of shit for other people!"
"I know! I- I freaked out, and panicked, and I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Steve," Eddie says, and he sounds sincere and looks almost fragile while saying it that Steve loses a bit of his steam. He doesn't want to just keep yelling at Eddie.
"Yeah. Well. Thanks for apologizing," Steve mutters, crossing his arms with a huff.
Eddie worries his bottom lip before he seems to gather all his courage and says, "have I fucked everything up between us?"
"No. Not- I'm going to, like, need some time to get over my crush, but no. It's- it'll just be take time-"
"No! I mean, I can't- if you don't, uh, like me like that anymore I get it, but I- what I meant was. Well. No, I guess that answered my question."
Steve is confused, now. For real, and not about his sexuality. "What?"
"What?"
"You did it again. Deciding for me if I liked you or not."
"Shit. Fuck! Sorry," Eddie drops his head into his hands and groans. "I'm fucking this up so bad."
"Than use, like, real, whole sentences and speak to me!"
"I like you!" Eddie blurts. "I have a crush on you, too, but I- I fucked it up!"
"Yeah. Kinda."
Eddie makes a really pathetic noise at that.
"Not so much we can't, like, figure it out, though," Steve offers. "Not, like, right now, because I'm hurt and angry, but like, I'm not going to stop liking you because of one fight. Not. Uh, not now that I know you like me, too."
"Oh," Eddie whispers, then frowns. "For real?"
Steve rolls his eyes. "I said it, didn't I?"
"Sorry, it's just, just good things don't happen to me. It's- I'm processing, okay."
Steve lets out a long-suffering sigh and heads towards the rec room. "If you want to leave to 'process' alone, I get it, but you're welcome to stay. We can get this party re-started and hang out."
Eddie's silent a moment, and Steve thinks he's going to ask if Steve's sure, but instead he gets a quiet, "yeah. I'd like to stay." and the sound of Eddie's footsteps following him to the rec room.
-
@i-less-than-three-you @nburkhardt @afewproblems @skepsiss
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beescake · 4 months
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Sorry for the spam (^o^;) I just really like your blog
no need to apologize ayy!
in this corner we welcome all forms of enjoyment, regardless of whether you're a
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happy to have yall here w me,
headin into homestuck 2024 :^)
#was debating if sollux truly was lurker type but then i rmbr'd him quietly reading all of karkat's memos for a good laugh HAHAHAHAAH#ask#aleemie#homestuck#karkat vantas#sollux captor#solkat#2024#vioart#but o. regarding the etiquette learned frm other socmed#spamming here is safe+good! it does not harm the op by shadowbanning like instagram#and its not 💀 like twitter where ur likes/following are permanently set to public#ur tumblr experience is within ur control it can be as free/empty/curated as u want!!#((tho ofc i do encourage rbing for ppl who've been hoping to start that habit!!#s'cool to slowly work ur way up from the extra special posts that hv lingered longest in ur heart and quietly build ur cache trove :-)#for example back when i was struggling to rt on a new twt acc i just started setting nonsense criteria for myself LOL#like “breaking this void is scary holy fuck ok i shall start by rting posts w brownish/reddish clrs bcs its inspo vibes for my art”#and gradually after a while of deliberate sharing i gained more confidence to share a larger variety of posts that make me feel things!!!!#no more training wheels i may be scared but i love loving more!!!!#same goes for engaging w fics too it takes energy to think of how to comment and thats ok‚ do ur best to explore what works for u!!!!#take screenshots of ur fave paragraphs & start annotating in gallery/notes app if that helps!!!!#also tumblr's customizable queue means u can stack posts and bolt hgehehe. my preferred form of existing on the net))
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lovesickeros · 7 months
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☆ even the gods bleed [ pt 2 ]
{☆} characters furina, neuvillette {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, multi-chapter, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings none {☆} word count 1.9k {☆} previous [ 1 ]
This had to be a punishment of some sort – some kind of divine punishment.
She was bored out of her mind just watching the sleeping body – she hadn't blinked once in the past five hours, her eyes were really starting to hurt. Yet they still hadn't moved so much as an inch since she sequestered them away to the only place she had known to be safe.
But it'd been almost a week since then.
The only solace she found was that Teyvat had seemed much less hellbent on collapsing in on itself like a dying star.
That counted for something.
Not much, but something!
..Even if their position was no better then it was a week ago.
There was, after all, still the issue of what to do about the false Creator – the actual imposter – and the Archons following them like blind lambs. The other Archons wouldn't listen if she tried to reason with them, and it would only risk the life of Divine One if she spoke of their location to anyone else.
She also was pretty fond of having her head still attached to her shoulders.
So she avoided them all together. Partially because she wasn't sure she wouldn't have a breakdown at the sight of them..she'd never been a fighter, and fighting an Archon? Easy pass.
Instead she was forced to babysit the sleeping Divine until they woke up while Neuvillette handled taking care of the nation and dealing with the other Archons – and by extension the false Creator.
Really though, she would almost think them dead if not for the subtle rise and fall of their chest.
Though..this also left her with a lot of time to herself. A lot of time to think.
She really didn't like it.
There wasn't a lot to occupy her mind and what little there was only distracted her for a scant few moments before her eyes drifted back to the Divine like she was locked in their orbit, unable to escape.
She closed the same book for the twelfth time – she kept count – and returned it to it's meticulously designed place within her bookcase. A low, barely audible huff of frustration escaped her lips before she could bite it down, her stare boring a hole into the body of the Divine One with a sharp intensity she rarely showed.
She was tired, bored and constantly on edge, fearing that at any moment someone would find out about their presence here.
That, at the drop of a hat, she would be powerless to stop the greatest tragedy of her time play out before her eyes.
Neuvillette would have scolded her for being so petulant, especially around the Divine One, if he were here.
But he wasn't.
He was out running her nation, instead.
And what was she doing? Nothing!
She grit her teeth, nails digging harshly into the palm of her hands as she took a deep breath – now was not the time to think about that. She had..much more pressing matters. Sulking and letting her thoughts spiral helped no one, least of all herself.
Yet her attention was caught by a harsh inhale, the rustle of fabric – were they finally waking up? She was exhausted, but it all vanished at the sudden drop of life within the otherwise deathly still body of the Divine.
Her eyes followed the subtle twitch of their fingers, watching as their brow furrowed and their features twisted in something almost like..pain.
..She wasn't ready.
What was she supposed to say?
Should she even say anything? Would that be considered impolite? Does she wait for them to speak first? Should she kneel? Bow?
She doesn't get much time to find her own answer before their lashes flutter, chest heaving with every strangled breath. Every single thought vanishes from her mind the moment she meets their eyes.
For a long, silent moment she thinks that her heart must have stopped.
Their eyes glow like the cresting of the sun over the horizon, painting the world in hues of gold – yet it also reminded her of the dipping of the moon below the waves, casting the briefest, most gentle of lights upon the world engulfed in darkness. In the depths of their eyes was the birth and death of stars in the infinite cosmos – glittering stars in a sea of empty, blank space that left her feeling lightheaded and breathless.
Beneath the splendor is a spark of recognition in their eyes so vibrant it was like a shooting star piercing through the dark night sky, leaving nothing but the wonder in the eyes of the observer as the only proof it ever existed – brilliant in it's beauty, however brief.
It is the most beautiful thing she has ever seen.
"Focalors?"
The lilt of their voice nearly made her knees buckle beneath her – euphoria so consuming it left her feeling she was starving swallowed her whole, her mind blanking in a moment of utter bliss. It was..an indescribable feeling that she doubted she could ever hope to put into words – not in a way that could properly express it, try as she might.
She swallowed the words that threatened to spill from her lips – she couldn't make a fool of herself. Not in front of them of all people. She'd never forgive herself.
"Divine One," She rasps, clearing her throat and covering her mouth with a hand to mask both her nervousness and the small smile that creeps across her face. She quickly regains her composure, hand resting on her hip as she puffs out her chest with every bit of pride she can manage. "I am sure you must be confused, but worry not– your most loyal acolyte has seen the truth!"
The silence is deafening.
She opens one eye, peaking at the bewildered and almost distraught expression of the Divine.
"What the hell are you talking about?"
That..she was not prepared for. Surely they knew who they were! Surely they knew. They had to– she's been praying to them for as long as she's breathed, she's dedicated every hour of her life to living up to their ideals, they can't just–!
"Lady Furina?"
Neuvillette, thankfully, spares her the embarrassment of having a meltdown in front of the Divine, the gentle rap of his knuckles against the door making her and the Divine pause, the soft lull of his voice soothing her nerves and yet setting her on edge at the same time.
"Neuvillette." She clears her throat again, her steps hurried as she marches to the door and pries it open none too gently, a forced smile pulling at her lips. She wastes no time tugging the man into the room, shutting the door behind him with a short huff. The silence is, somehow, even worse then before as the three of them stare at each other in absolute exasperation.
Neuvillette, for his part, manages to get his act together with a sharp clearing of his throat, bowing so low even she looks unnerved. She steals a brief glance at the Divine, and she's taken aback by the uncomfortability twisting their features into a grimace.
Their expression is schooled back into one of empty apathy when he stands back to his full height, but she saw it – she knows she did! Did they not like their worship? Were they not respectful enough? For a moment, she feared the Divine would smite Neuvillette down on the spot..but they just stared at him like he was a ghost.
"Why aren't you killing me?"
The defeated, resigned tone combined with the way their voice cracks makes her heart ache in her chest – it feels as though her entire world is crumbling down at her feet, and she cannot explain why she feels such emotions so strongly, but it is suffocating. It is almost as if Teyvat itself is weeping, bearing down upon her shoulders like a heavy weight.
She feels the urge to weep herself, but she powers through, gritting her teeth long enough for Neuvillette to take his place at the side of her – though it feels more like their – bed, kneeling like he was going to pray.
"Divine One," He offers a hand with a quiet rumble of his voice, the words slipping off his tongue like honey. It's like trying to soothe a stray cat..though she'd never voice such comparisons of the most Divine out loud. "I..we mean you no harm. I swear on my authority as the Iudex of Fontaine and Chief Justice that you are safe with us."
The skepticism she expected, but the reverence in which Neuvillette must convince them – or perhaps they are simply so tired that they simply did not care any longer if it was all some ploy to drive a knife between their ribs. She didn't expect them to actually place their hand in Neuvillette's.
He didn't either, judging by the way he visibly brightened – not that they'd notice, but she did.
..Not that she could really blame him, her heels clicking against the floorboards as she shifted her weight to the other foot with a nervous energy that was practically bursting at the seams, more then a little jealous of the attention he was receiving. She was the one who found them, she was the one who stayed with them the entire time..but he gets all the attention?
How unfair.
"O-of course! We would never lay a hand on our creator," She adds, her voice a little higher pitched then she would have liked as she placed her hands on her hips, puffing out her chest and brushing off the sting of jealousy. "Least of all I– your most loyal, most devout acolyte!"
She felt baffled when she heard the sound of their laughter, her shoulders hunching and her cheeks flushing on mere instinct – she was expecting mockery, but the look in their eyes, still dulled by a pain she cannot even begin to imagine, made her hesitate.
..It was, perhaps, the most genuine thing she'd heard from them ever since before the hunt began.
She wasn't sure why her heart hurt at such an idea, but it was enthralling to see the beginnings of a half hearted smile on their lips.
For a moment, her mask of theatrics was forgotten as she stared at them in a mixture of awe and adoration– and though she didn't look at Neuvillette, she could imagine he must've shared such an expression.
Had she any doubts that they were her Creator, that they alone were the most Divine..they would wiped clean now. There was no mistaking the way the world itself seemed to grow clearer as they glanced up at her like she was worth something.
For a moment, she realized how cold the false Creators gaze had been now that she has felt warmth so gentle it almost made her knees buckle beneath her. It felt like a pale imitation, now.
Nothing could compare to the warmth that spread through her body at the mere semblance of a smile upon their lips. She didn't even mind if it was her they were laughing at anymore, she just wanted to hear them laugh again.
She'd make a fool of herself, if she had to.
She'd never felt so..ravenous for such a thing, but just the briefest glimpse was addictive.
She simply couldn't help herself from striding across the room and clasping their free hand in her own, her smile wide enough to unnerve as she leaned her weight onto the bed. For a moment, she considered pulling away at the way they startled, but her mind was made up by then – there was no going back.
"Again."
#sagau#genshin sagau#self aware genshin#genshin impact sagau#self aware genshin impact#fic tag#neuvillette#focalors#furina#dont ask what happened here idk#this was. also supposed 2 be neuvi focused and then i.#dont talk 2 me abt focalors i wont ever shut up#got a 300k word essay on hand abt how i feel abt her character/how i interpret her personality and her story#focalors jsut like me fr fr (cries at the slightest inconvenience or the slightest mean comment)#shes so pathetic girlfail im gonna chew on her#what happens when reader gets stuck with two emotionally repressed french bastards?? hell#neuvi is the “emotionless” flavor of emotionally repressed in that hes HORRIBLE at showing emotions at all#ask him to smile and its incredibly unnerving and theres too many teeth but hes trying his best please call him pretty or he will cry :(#furina is the flavor of emotionally repressed where she makes it up by having Too Many emotions#using theatrics and masks to show everyone what they want to see but inside this girl is a MESS#constant anxiety and panic 24/7#will do random shit and look at you and if u dont compliment her she will think u hate her and cry#compliment her and she'll do even stupider shit to try and impress you more#i love my scrunkly little babies they r so stupid and mentally ill someone get these bitches some THERAPY#i want 2 put them under a microscope#watch this be ooc fr furina when more of her lore drops if shes not girlfail im leaving#anyway see u in a week im going on a trip ill get back 2 u in 6-7 business days
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zaruba-needslove · 2 years
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Due to recent issue with some people arguing about how ‘AO3 should have algorithm’ and such... I feel like these tweets need to be shared out more. Saw this tweets thread by chance and I had to admit it's a great advice esp on fic writing or fanworks in general.
[Edit] Also since I noticed this post blowing up, if anyone ever tell you that AO3 doesn’t have a function to RECCOMMEND fics you like to others or read other people’s fic recs on the site point them to this post.
[Edit 2] Check source for the original tweet.
[Edit 3] Not OP, but usually when ppl talk about ‘rude or demanding comments’ it usually refers to those that tend to message fanwriters to write according to what they want to be either on the flow of the plot, shipping, etc to the point of harrassment/toxicity. And that would make writing not be fun anymore for some. 
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p4nishers · 7 months
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there's something i need to say and yall can boo me for it but deep in my heart i'll always know i'm correct: crowley already forgave aziraphale. like already would take him back at one flutter of his eyelashes. that's all.
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varyathevillain · 1 year
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no joke but what I really want for Buddy Daddies as a fandom is to make fanart and fanfic post present time ep12 where Rei wears an arm orthosis when working.
I think varied disability aids being represented would be fantastic, and personally would write Rei as someone being deeply proud of something he's done for his family, but also understanding with time that using an orthosis also helps him at work and in raising Miri. with a giant portion of mobility/motorics aids being represented by prosthetics, seeing more variety and exploring it in fiction would also help making a step in normalising disability treatments.
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leenfiend · 7 months
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what's ur type first < prev next > full comic
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swedenis-h · 4 months
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Phoenix Tatooine day trip Goes Wrong™️ (X)
This is a little idea where Luke needs something (don’t ask me what) that he can only get on tatooine, so dinluke adventure ensues. The plan is to get there and leave ASAP, but then nostalgia hits and he needs to hit every shop and place he used to as a kid. But you know, “college kids comes back to hometown” syndrome hits and he realizes he’s changed too much. Think of how the holiday season doesn’t feel the same anymore now that you’re an adult, same feeling. AND YES ITS ALSO DUNLUKE BECAUSE I WANT THEM TO KISS AND TALK ABOUT THEIR FEELINGS AND ALSO KISS.
Heres some extras 🫡
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drawnfamiliarfaces · 1 month
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i... wrote a smol fic (っ´▽`*)っ
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also!!!!! If you haven't seen it - shoutout to first ever published fic in Ninja Showdown/My Immortal Soul tags - Lustrous Red by @missadmyre !!!
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theminecraftbee · 2 months
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Joel sits awkwardly at a family dinner table that isn’t for him.
It’s nice and all, he reckons, for Impulse’s family to invite him over after he leaves the hospital. Even before—everything—Joel’s family hadn’t really been the “big meal around a big table” type, so he’s getting some new experiences here too. And it’s nice and all, that they want to thank him for his role in finding Skizz.
But like. It’s not like he or Impulse or Skizz could explain how it happened, when asked. “Magic brain ghosts” and “evil butterflies” and “Joel still isn’t certain all of that was real and is trying to pretend it wasn’t” puts a damper on that. Also, adults are kind of shit at talking around the fact Joel’s whole family is dead, so he gets the sense he’s sort of harshing the vibes, you know?
Still. It’s a nice gesture. He guesses. It’s free food at least, which is decent, and as close as Impulse and Skizz are, every time one of Impulse’s family says something stupid, Skizz taps Joel’s leg with his foot or steals a roll or something, and it makes Joel feel…
He’d have been sad if Skizz had died, probably. Like, he wouldn’t know. He didn’t come here to make friends, he came here to get a degree and get out. Also, that’s stupid, because it’s not like Joel would have known he was missing a really awkward congratulatory family dinner in which Skizz kept on trying to sneakily steal beans. Probably would have just moved right on. He’s not… friendly.
But.
They stand outside afterwards, waving by to Impulse, promising to walk together so that neither of them Vanish. They’re quiet.
“Thanks, man. That meant a lot to them,” Skizz says.
“Yeah, well, I can do stupid things for free food,” Joel says.
Skizz laughs. “It was nice having you there, too. Man, they’re even worse with you! It’s like not knowing you means they’re even more awkward about family tragedy.”
“Trust me, most adults are way worse. You should see my social worker,” Joel says.
“Didn’t he ditch you, dude?”
“Haha, yeah, he did,” Joel says.
They stare up at the streetlamps together.
“I was really ready to go for a bit there,” Skizz says. Joel’s hackles raise. Oh no. Emotions. Bad. Go away. “It was like—man, it felt like the whole world was empty. But when you showed up, it’s like I remembered… I’d miss dinners, dude.”
“I have no idea why, that kinda sucked,” Joel says, baffled and sarcastic, because he’s a moron who can’t handle emotional conversations, this is why everyone avoided him at the funeral, stupid.
Skizz breaks out laughing.
“You’re great, man! I’m glad we met. Uh, my place is only a block away, and I won’t go following any stupid butterflies. See you at school?”
“Yeah man. See you,” Joel says—
I am thou.
Thou art I.
Thou hath formed a new bond.
With the power of the Chariot Arcana, you shall build the chains with which to hold on to reality.
RANK 1!
“What the hell?” Joel says, tripping over his feet. “What? What? Where did—what the fuck that wasn’t Pygmalion oh god do I have more than one voice in my head—”
“Dude, are you okay?”
Skizz’s almost frustratingly strong and comforting arms grab Joel.
“Tell me you heard that,” Joel says desperately.
“I—I don’t know what you’re talking about. I could take you back to the hospital—no?”
“I am either crazy or am going to end up in a government lab?” Joel says, voice getting high and squeaky.
“We can ask Mr. Hills about it? He came to talk to me after I woke up in the hospital, apparently he like, knows stuff,” Skizz says.
“I don’t wanna,” Joel says.
“Tough luck, buddy, you just almost fell over and cracked your head open!”
Suddenly, Joel remembers a long-nosed man and a blonde in a very blue boat. He remembers a cryptic conversation about bonds and power and their importance. He takes a deep breath. “Can you cover your ears for a moment?” he says.
“Yeah, sure thing, why—”
Joel, as loudly as he can, screams. He hears several birds fly away. He pants.
“…Joel,” Skizz says.
“Yeah thanks man don’t worry about it let’s never speak of this again I’m sure it’s nothing. I definitely didn’t have a weird dream about this and should go to bed.”
“Yeah, okay, whatever you say,” Skizz says cheerfully before laughing, which Joel continues grumbling about all the way back to his apartment.
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hisui-dreamer · 3 months
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trial romance
Pairing: Malleus Draconia x gn!reader
Synopsis: since you were going to be put in an arranged marriage anyways, you decided to let yourself experience a normal teenage romance first!
Tags: fluff, slow burn, rent-a-boyfriend mallesu, mutual pining nrc and sra are mixed schools, reader has an elder brother, reader is royalty
Word count: 2.7k+
Notes: woooh sorry for neglecting you mal mal :( i hope this fic makes up for it hehe
Masterlist
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You've never really known love.
Born as the second child of a small, but affluent kingdom, you're not sure you have the right to complain. Each day dawns with the assurance of never experiencing hunger, attended to by countless devoted maids catering to your every whim. It's a life of opulence, one that stands in stark contrast to the struggles endured by those grappling with meager wages just to survive.
Still, there remains an ache within you, a yearning for a love that exists in the enchanting tales of old. A love so untainted that it remains steadfast in any circumstance, a love capable of cleansing away all your sorrows, becoming your very reason of existence.
But such a love seems as distant as the stars. After all, you're bound by the responsibilities as the second princess. Unlike your elder brother who inherits the throne, you are a mere pawn in the intricate game of politics, destined for an arranged marriage rather than a fufiling romance.
In a rare display of benevolence, your father granted you a fleeting taste of freedom, sending you off to live under a false identity at the renowned Royal Sword Academy on Sage Island. Three precious years, promising a respite from the constraints of duty, and you promised to seize each moment and savour the life of a normal person who yearned for love.
Which brings you back to the present moment.
"Jellyfish are such fascinating creatures, don't you think so dear?"
The man stands tall beside you, his golden locks catching the ambient blue glow within the aquarium, lending him an almost ethereal air. His emerald eyes fix upon you, awaiting your response.
You return his gaze, captivated by the way the light dances in his eyes. A soft smile graces your lips as you consider his question.
"They are indeed fascinating," you reply, your voice carrying a hint of admiration. "They move with such grace and fluidity, it's like they're dancing through the water."
He hums at your response, fix focus shifting back onto the creatures drifting in the display.
He's a peculiar man, no doubt. It's puzzling to fathom the sort of individual who would boldly advertise their boyfriend rental services on Magicam. Especially someone as strikingly handsome as he appears to be; you would have assumed he'd have no shortage of admirers or suitors.
But you suppose you're not really any better, the person who hired said rentable boyfriend.
Though you're a bit ashamed to admit, you harbor a certain discomfort when it comes to meeting new people. And with your identity as a merchant's daughter, you've had few interactions with your schoolmates, leaving you with a shortage of friends, let alone a romantic relationship.
It was in then that you stumbled upon his listing.
And now, here you are, on your first ever date, exploring an aquarium together.
"Do you mind telling me what dates you're free?" you ask casually as you stroll towards the tropical section, bathed in the vivid hues of exotic marine life.
He trails alongside you, his presence exuding an air of calmness. "Dates...?" he muses, his tone tinged with intrigue. "Ah, you wish to see me another time, I presume?"
You cast your gaze downwards, a hint of bashfulness coloring your cheeks. "Yes... I would like that."
He contemplates for a moment, a hint of concern crossing his features. "Hmm... My fees are quite high you see. Your finances may suffer if you spend too much time with me."
"Hmph. You don't have to be concerned. This money has nowhere else to go anyways," you scoff.
His gaze lingers on you with a hint of curiosity, before a gentle warmth softens his features as he nods. "Very well," he murmurs, his hand reaching out to envelop yours in a tender clasp. With a delicate gesture, he presses a fleeting kiss upon the back of your hand, his voice resonating with anticipation, "I look forward to seeing you more often, my dear."
Aquarium Date ✅
First Date ✅
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"You seem quite troubled by this book. Is something the matter?" Mal asked, peering over the edge of his book, eyes sparkling with curiosity.
He sat across from you, textbooks and notebooks scattered between you, each page turned with a quiet reverence. The library was bathed in a soft glow, the gentle hum of whispers filling the air like a comforting melody.
You glanced up from your own notes, running a hand through your hair in a gesture of resignation. "I have a test coming up for Magic Analysis, but I always get so overwhelmed with information I forget the details."
"Magic Analysis... Perhaps you're approaching it from the wrong angle," Mal suggested, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "What if we break it down into smaller, more manageable chunks? We could create a study plan together."
The idea sparked a glimmer of hope within you, the prospect of tackling the daunting material with a structured approach feeling suddenly within reach. "That... actually sounds like a good idea," you admitted, a tentative smile forming on your lips.
"Alright," Mal began, his eyes alight with enthusiasm. "Shall I give you a demonstration?"
There's something to his smile that worries you slightly.
Study Date ✅
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The quaint café bustled with life, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingling with the sweet scent of pastries.
Mal's eyes sparkled curiously as he scanned the menu, his fingers tracing the various options with keen interest. "This place is quite charming," he remarked.
You smiled, a flutter of warmth blooming in your chest at his appreciation. "I'm glad you like it. I heard it's one of the best spots in town. Have you decided what to order?"
His brows furrow lightly. "I'm not sure... They all look quite enticing..."
"How about a parfait then? You can choose different flavours of ice cream too," you suggested, gesturing to the other page.
Malleus's gaze followed your gesture, his eyes alight with anticipation. "Ice cream, you say? That sounds delightful," he replied, a spark of childlike excitement dancing in his expression.
You couldn't help but mirror that smile.
Cute Cafe Date ✅
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The night stretched out before you like an endless canvas, painted with a myriad of twinkling stars scattered across the indigo sky. Cradled in the comforting embrace of a soft blanket spread out on the grass, you lay your head gently upon Mal's shoulder, feeling the steady rhythm of his breath as you gaze upwards.
"It's breathtaking..." you murmur softly, your voice barely above a whisper, not wanting to disturb the tranquil stillness of the night.
His hand finds yours, fingers intertwining in a silent gesture of affection. "The sight never fails to captivate me," he responds, his voice tinged with awe. "I'm often reminded of how quickly time passes when I stargaze."
Lifting your head slightly, you steal a glimpse of his face, illuminated by the ethereal glow of the night sky. "Ah... Fae are known for their longevity, aren't they?" you remark, reaching up to tuck a stray lock of his blonde hair behind his pointed ears. "Is that part of the reason why you became a rentable boyfriend?"
He smiles ruefully. "Partly so," he admits. "My mentor suggested it as a means of broadening my perspective and gaining new experiences.
A giggle escapes your lips. What's with that? To think you're doing this for educational purposes..." you tease, though the chill of reality briefly brushes against your thoughts. "I hope you've at least had fun?"
"Absolutely." He envelops both of your hands in his own, his gaze unwaveringly earnest as it locks onto yours. "My dear, I've thoroughly enjoyed every second spent with you,"
A blush tinges your cheeks at his sincerity, and you respond softly, "It's the same for me. I had so much fun when I was with you,"
You find yourself ensnared by the ethereal presence of the man before you, his proximity stirring a flurry of emotions within you. His face, mere inches from your own, is illuminated by the soft glow of the twinkling stars, their light mirrored in the depths of his serene emerald eyes. Your heart quickens its pace, thumping so loudly in your chest that it threatens to drown out his next words.
"...Can I kiss you?"
You feel yourself nod slightly.
He tentatively closes the distance between you, his movements deliberate yet achingly tender. His hand, warm and reassuring, cups your cheek, his touch sending shivers of electricity dancing across your skin. The scent of night blossoms and distant pine trees fills your senses, mingling with the heady anticipation swirling in the air.
The kiss is tender at first, a tentative exploration of each other, as if testing the waters of this newfound intimacy. But soon, a surge of desire courses through you, fueling the passion that blooms between you. You lose yourself in the moment, surrendering to the intoxicating whirlwind of emotions that sweeps you away, leaving you breathless and utterly consumed by him.
The sequence of events that followed remains a hazy blur in your memory, the details shrouded in a fog of uncertainty. All you recall with clarity is Mal's familiar presence beside you as he walked you back to the imposing gates of your school hand-in-hand, just as he'd always done.
Just like clockwork, you retrieved a thick envelope from the depths of your bag, its contents weighing heavily on your mind. "Hold this," you instructed quietly.
He stared curiously at your actions. With a practiced fluidity, you extracted a handful of bills from your wallet.. With unwavering composure, you extended the money towards him, your tone devoid of sentimentality. "This is the bonus for kissing," pressing the bills into his palm.
Leaning forward on tiptoes, you planted a chaste farewell kiss upon his cheek, the gesture a stark contrast to the emotionless exchange that had just transpired. "See you next time," you murmured, before turning away.
Each clack of your heels against the pavement resonated within him like a mournful toll, echoing the hollowness that had taken root in his chest. He watched, transfixed, as the last sliver of your silhouette dissolved into the far distance, the bittersweet echoes of your footsteps fading into the twilight.
Dark, menacing clouds stretched ominously across the vast expanse of the sky, casting an eerie pall over the landscape below. Before you realised it, raindrops cascaded from the heavens in a frensied blur.
Stargazing Date✅
First Kiss ✅
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The evening air was cool as he led you through the labyrinthine streets of the old city, the cobblestones whispering tales of centuries past beneath your feet. Towering above you, ancient buildings adorned with weathered stone facades loomed like silent sentinels guarding the secrets of bygone eras.
"This way," he beckoned, his voice tinged with excitement as he pulled you along into a narrow alleyway veiled in shadows.
With eager steps, you followed his lead, anticipation coursing through your veins as you delved deeper into the heart of the historic district.
"You know," you mused, breaking the silence as you walked, "when I said you could choose our next date, I never imagined it would involve a trip to the City of Flowers. Have you been here before?"
"I have," he answered. "I was invited here once. There was a magnificent festival here, but I was more interested in the gargoyles."
"The... gargoyles?" you echoed, casting an intrigued glance at the statues that adorned the buildings around you. "There do seem to be quite a few of them."
"They've watched over these buildings for centuries, warding off evil spirits and protecting those within."
"Really? That sounds fascinating," you murmured. "Would you mind telling me more?"
A smile graced his lips, his eyes gleaming with a unbridled glee. "Gladly," he agreed, his voice reverent. "Each one has a story to tell, waiting to be heard by those who seek to listen."
You listened intently as he recounted the legends surrounding these ancient sentinels, his words weaving a captivating narrative that transported you through time. As you continued your exploration of the historic buildings, he regaled you with tales of the city's storied past, his words painting vivid pictures of times long gone.
Somewhere along the line, night had descended like a comforting shroud, cloaking the city in a blanket of darkness. Now, you found yourselves strolling along the tranquil riverbank, the rhythmic lapping of the waves providing a soothing cadence to your thoughts.
Your three years of time is almost up.
Soon, you'd be back in the confines of your childhood room, the familiar walls suffocating with the promise of the same, predictable routine. Then, like a ship launched by an unforgiving wind, you'd be whisked away to wed the spouse your father had chosen, leaving behind your fleeting moments of freedom and the memories far away in your teenage years.
Mal glances sideways at you, noting the unusual quiet that had settled upon you like a shadow. "Is everything alright, my dear?" he inquires, his voice laced with concern.
You pause, grappling with the weight of your impending confession, searching for the right words to convey your thoughts. Finally, you draw in a deep breath, steeling yourself for the revelation to come.
"No... It's not," you confess, your voice faltering slightly as you let go of his hand. "Mal, this... this will be the last time I'm hiring you."
Confusion furrows his brow as he searches your eyes for clarity. "But... why?" he responds, a note of sadness creeping into his tone.
"Because..." you begin, your gaze drifting towards the glistening surface of the river, unable to withstand his earnest gaze. "Because I'm leaving Sage Island. I'll be graduating and returning home, and... and I won't require your services anymore."
"I... see."
A heavy silence descends between you, the weight of your confession hanging in the air like a tangible presence. And as you continued your stroll along the riverbank, the knowledge that this would be your final night together lingered like a bittersweet farewell to the memories you had shared.
His Choice Date ✅
Breakup ✅
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You've never liked riding in carriages.
With each clop of the horses' hooves, the entire contraption lurched, sending shivers skittering up your spine. It was a waltz of unease, the sway and groan of leather and wood a discordant melody against the cobblestone streets.
The confines of the cramped cabin also felt suffocating, a gilded cage that further severed your connection to your freedom. But the carriage rolled on, carrying you not just through the mountainous terrain, but towards a future you desperately wished to outrun.
Malleus Draconia was your spouse-to-be.
Throughout your school days, whispers of the famed fae prince from Night Raven College echoed in the halls. Tales spun of his unmatched prowess in Spelldrive, where he emerged victorious alone against all teams, his formidable magical abilities casting a long shadow of fear over his opponents. His towering and menacing presence, coupled with the dark horns that crowned his head, only added to the mystique that surrounded him. You could only hope that beneath this formidable exterior lay a heart capable of kindness, granting you the chance for a peaceful existence.
Though, you wouldn't say you could forgive him for having such a similar name to Mal.
As the carriage comes to a halt, the sound of hooves and wheels ceases, accompanied by a palpable sense of anticipation. With the opening of the carriage door, your guards stand at attention, their expressions solemn yet resolute. "Your Highness, we have arrived," one of them announces, his voice carrying the weight of the moment.
With a deep breath, you gather your resolve, steeling yourself for the encounter that awaits beyond the carriage doors.
Just as your foot grazes the carriage step, a gloved hand extends towards you, reaching out towards you with a graceful assurance.. You glance up to meet the gaze of your betrothed, and for a moment, time seems to stand still.
His eyes are a familiar shade of emerald green. A shade that's grown to be your favourite, in fact.
"M-Mal?" you stammer, the name escaping your lips before you can stop it.
"It's lovely to see you again, my dear," he smiles, as radiant as the sun.
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if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!
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Text
Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 90
Part 1 Part 89
For a group who’s routinely suffered through supernatural shenanigans, they’re not getting any better at these planning sessions. They always take too long and devolve into yelling at each other.
“Why don’t we just go in and turn the heater on?” Max asks, gesturing toward Will’s house like she couldn’t care less about any of this. “You heard that girl, you need to warm him up.”
“Yeah, we need to cut the connection before Supergirl closes the gate,” Eddie says, gesturing jerkily toward where Wayne had driven away. He doesn’t look away from Steve as he runs his hands up and down any visible skin, like just the heat of his own body will bring Steve back. “Run a bath or something, we’ve just gotta make it fast.”
“He’s a spy,” Will says, interjecting what everyone else seems to have forgotten, he talks right over Dustin’s squawked “he’s a what?” to finish, “if he knows where we are, the dogs can find us again.”
That finally gets Eddie to look his way. “But they’re dead,” he says, peeking out the van door to look at the corpses littering the ground, shadowed by the falling darkness. 
Carol scoffs, shouldering her way into the van. She uses the heel of her shoe to kick the Demodog corpse out of the van before settling into one of the vacant seats that’s clear of glass. “You’re crazy if you think that’s all there is, Munson.”
Barbara follows her in, squeezing Steve’s shoulder as she passes and settles into the seat beside Carol, dropping the nailed bat between her spread thighs, but keeping her hand around it, ready to squeeze. 
Will watches the two girls, transfixed. They’re both splattered with blood and shiny with sweat, leaning into each other like that’s where they belong. Will’s heard Eddie complain about Carol that he knows it shouldn’t work.
Carol’s stuck up. Carol’s preppy. Carol’s conceited, all in long-winded rants that Steve just sighs at. But Barbara’s been on the peripherals of Will’s life long enough that he knows she ticks some of those same boxes.
And they’re both looking at the rest of the party loitering out on the lawn with the same snide look, eyebrows raised, lips pursed. 
“Well?” Carol demands. “Are you waiting for those Demo-whatevers to come and kill us, or are we going to get the hell out of here?”
Everyone piles in, one atop of another as they try to find seats. Mike settles beside Will, shoulders pressed together. Something snake-coiled and tight in his gut loosens. Will leans into Mike’s side. 
“Eddie, sweetie, can you start this thing again?” Mom calls, settling into the driver’s seat. 
“Where are we going anyway?” Mike asks, looking at Will for answers he doesn’t have.
But, as Eddie trips up to help Mom with the car, Will jumps up, calling “don’t say anything!” to his perpetually loud friends as he ties Wayne’s flannel back over Steve’s eyes, and putting Jonatha’s headphones over his ears after rewinding the tape and hitting play. 
“You meant that literally?” Dustin demands. “Steve’s a spy?”
“For what?” Max asks.
“The Mind Flayer,” Mike replies, looking up at Steve with a sully expression. 
“Is that what we’re calling it now?” Dustin demands.
“It fits!”
“Does it?” Lucas asks, smiling that sneaky smile at all of them.
Barbara’s the one that scoffs this time, throat clicking with the force of it. “Is this really what matters right now?”
“Yes!” Mike cries, just as Dustin lets out a resigned, “no.”
The van starts up with a cheer from Eddie, and Mom starts driving. 
“Go to the Harrington house,” he orders, settling into the passenger seat, even as he looks back at Steve like he can’t help but to take him in. 
Mom dutifully backs out of the driveway, heading that way as everyone argues about the intelligence of going somewhere Steve knows so well.
It’s Carol who snaps in, snide and mean. “Where else are we going to get an empty house to sweat it out of him?” she demands, not waiting long enough for anyone else to answer as she settles back into her seat with crossed arms. “Besides, those bastards can pay for the heating bill.”
Eddie’s laugh rings out, bitter and hollow from the front seat as he meets Carol’s eyes, something nameless and understanding passing between them. Will gets it. Steve hadn’t wanted to talk to his parents even from hell. He hasn’t been back in months. That’s not something that comes about from a loving relationship with one’s parents.
Will would know. He never wants to see Lonnie again. Not after Mom’s black eye and Jonathan’s broken arm. 
Some bodies are better left buried. 
Some bodies are crawling out of their own shallow graves. That becomes obvious when Max gasps, squishing her nose against the back window of the van, just as a car, something loud and sporty squeals on its tires as it takes a turn too fast. 
Will doesn’t know how long it’s been behind them. None of them do, with the way they’d been arguing among themselves, squabbling over logistics when there was a fox trying to sneak into the henhouse. 
They’re not sneaking any more.
“He’s following us,” Max says, face washed-out and pale against her flaming hair as she turns away from the window, back to the door as she huddles down into herself.
“Who?” Lucas asks, rushing up beside her to crouch beside her, peeking obviously out of the window. “Is that Billy?”
“Who–” Mom starts to ask.
“My stepbrother,” Max says, hands shaking subtly where they’re dangling between her knees. “He’ll kill me.”
She pulls Lucas down beside her, shoving him down past the lip of the window. As if her stepbrother hadn’t already seen them both.
Mom hums, but keeps driving, speeding up enough that the turns make them all fling around, lurching back and forth with the momentum of the tires. It doesn’t work. The car just keeps following them, close enough that the headlights illuminate the dark interior of the van. The whites of Max’s eyes are shining. 
“Don’t worry, sweetie,” Mom calls, finally pulling into the Harrington’s long, dark driveway, and pulling the van all the way in and putting it in park. “He won’t get anywhere near you.”
Mom steps out of the van just as the car pulls to a stop, tires squealing showily. When he steps out, he doesn’t bother to turn off his car. His headlights beam across the Harrington driveway, painting his Mom in light. 
Her hands are raised, like Billy’s holding a gun, even as he smiles charmingly at her and holds out his hand for a shake. Mom takes it, but she’s still wary, and she holds her hands up again in supplication. 
It’s a body posture Will hasn’t seen in a long time. Not since Lonnie had driven away after slamming the door so hard the front window broke. It makes him queasy to see it now. 
Will can’t hear what they’re saying, but Billy’s smile is fixed, painted on and empty. Max scoots back further into the van, like she can phase straight through the metal into somewhere else. Somewhere better.
Will knows that body posture well, too. Remembers it in the slope of his own shoulders, the futile squeezing of his fists when they were small and futile.
Mom takes a step back, covering the entrance to the van with the width of her arms, smile cracking along the edges as her deescalation of the situation shatters beneath her feet. Billy shoves past her, knocking her to the side. She keeps her feet, but it doesn’t matter: Billy’s already in front of the door, looking inside.
He’s not looking at Max, though. His eyes are trained on Steve, wide, smile unfurling from his mouth, all teeth and jagged edges.
It drops a second later as he hunches over just enough to bully his way into the van. “King Steve Harrington,” he drawls, stretching out Steve’s first name like it means something. “What have you gotten yourself into?”
He walks toward Steve like he’s pulled, hand reaching toward his face. To help or to hurt, Will doesn’t know. But it doesn’t matter because Carol launches out of her chair and tackles Billy with enough force to send him stumbling back out of the van, sprawling in the driveway, Carol on top of him.
“What the fuck?” he cries, shoving Carol in the breastbone. “Get off me, you bitch!”
She doesn’t. “You don’t fucking touch him,” she snarls, something wild and animal emerging as she bites his arm. It almost looks like instinct when he pulls his hand back, punching her straight in the face. 
She’s flung off him with the force, falling into Mom who’d come to help her and taking her down with her in a messy, writhing heap. 
Eddie springs free from the passenger seat and darts out the open driver’s side door. 
“Maxine!” Billy snarls, loud in the quiet night’s air. He’s holding the back of his head, and when he removes it, Will can see the bright red of blood shining in Billy’s headlights. “I’m going to fucking kill–”
He doesn’t get to finish. Eddie barrels into him at full speed, tackling him back into the pavement and swinging wildly. Carol crawls over to help, snatching arms and legs and hair as the lights of nosy neighbor's flicker on all around them, rich people ready for a show. 
Part 91
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