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schrijverr · 11 months

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I Found Myself a Cheerleader 3

Chapter 3 out of 28

Bumped to the lowest step on the social ladder after his fight with Billy, Steve gets roped in with the cheer team. What starts as a favor to help them out when one member breaks her leg in turn for protection from the brunt of the bullying, sets the universe on a different path.

In this chapter, Eddie has gained a new interest in Steve, which culminates in a meeting in the woods. During their meeting, they connect in a way neither would have thought possible a few months before, though Steve doesn’t quite know what to do with Eddie’s attention. Meanwhile, his friendship with Chrissy and Lisa grows more.

On AO3.

Ships: eventual steddie & buckingham.

Warnings: child abuse, eating disorder, period typical homophobia, f-slur, period typical sexism

~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 3: The Meeting

It’s been three weeks since the competition and nothing much has changed since Steve officially became a cheerleader.

People are still dicks to him from time to time and all sorts of rumors fly around the halls, but it’s mostly old news. Anyone who doesn’t have a personal vendetta against him has said all they need to say about it to his face and have found new things to talk about.

His parents call that they are extending their business trip into a mini vacation to Paris. Steve honestly doesn’t care and is just relieved that they won’t hear about this yet. He’s been saving most of his allowance in cash in his car, which is in his name. Just in case.

When they call, he twists the truth a bit. His father asks if he is still being dramatic or if he has gotten over his little spat and rejoined basketball.

Steve thinks nearly getting beaten to death is more than a little spat, but he doesn’t tell his father that, instead he answers: “Last Thursday coach showed us what suicide laps were,” which is true and earns him a proud chuckle from his father.

The interaction makes him a little sick.

But training is fun. They’re working on new stunts with Steve’s strength, which he’s also been building in his own time. The smallest flyer is Chrissy, so they’ve been working together, which is a blast.

He has discovered she will accept fruits if offered, so he brings an extra apple to school to give to her. For his own peace of mind. He’s planning to talk about it at some point, but for now this is all he can do. She always looks so happy when they’re stunting, he doesn’t want to take that from her and they don’t hang out outside of school much. She has a strict mom.

It has also been getting warmer, so part of the cheer squad will sit outside. Steve mostly just checks where Chrissy and Lisa have decided to sit and joins them.

Steve is also fully part of all the conversations. They all have lost shame or pretenses around them when it became clear he wasn’t making a move on them. So, now Steve knows about all their crushes and period struggles as well as things about shaving and other maintenance. He doesn’t know how they keep it up.

After a bit, he is also asked about his crush. It’s asked by Heather, whose curiosity is immediately joined by others. Without his permission Eddie comes to mind.

Ever since Steve joined the cheerleaders, he has been noticing Eddie looking at him differently than before. It is no longer contempt or some way of looking down at him and what he stood for. Now Steve is studied like he is some sort of puzzle. Something Eddie wants to solve.

Steve quite likes being at the other end of that look.

However, Steve can’t tell any of the cheerleaders that. They’ve been pretty cool about him joining, which is already nice. But he can’t imagine them wanting him around if they knew. They know what others say about him, but always comfort him with the fact that they don’t believe those rumors, that they don’t think he’s gay.

So instead he shrugs: “I’m still a bit hung up on Nancy, but she dumped me, so that’s not going to happen.”

“You’re not going after her?” Chrissy asks, confused.

“I mean, no,” Steve replies, also confused. “She dumped me and left me for another. She was quite clear about her feelings on the matter. Why would I try and force myself back in her life?”

“It’s just-” Chrissy shrugs helplessly.

“Most guys don’t really let a no stop them,” Sofia says. “They keep asking you out anyway.”

Okay, another thing where Steve’s attempt to come across as a straight boy has failed. At this point it’s surprising that no one has caught on yet that he is indeed the faggot they make him out to be. He is terrible at faking.

“That sounds rude,” Steve says, because he can’t think of anything else to say.

“It is,” Lisa tells him. “But that doesn’t stop them.”

“You are such a gentleman,” Heather sighs dreamily. “I don’t know why my brain decided to like Charles of all people.”

“Because you have terrible taste,” Mary tells her, which earns a hard shove as some of the other girls shriek with laughter.

“Like you’re one to talk,” Heather exclaims. “You liked Brad!”

“And I saw the error of my ways,” Mary says as she tries to get away from the new attack that is inbound.

Steve laughs at them, before it dies down and he turns to Sofia. Sofia has been saving his ass in their shared study hall. Steve is sure that if it weren’t for her, he’d be failing his senior year right now. Maybe junior year if Nancy hadn’t carried him through that.

However, no matter how much Steve loves his friends and no matter how much it has all calmed down. Lunch period can still make him feel like a zoo exhibit. And he can’t deal with that every day.

So, he tells Chrissy, who is walking with him to lunch that he’s gonna find a quiet spot in the woods and to go ahead without him.

“Are you sure, Stevie?” she asks.

“Yeah, Chris,” he smiles. “Just not in the mood for people today.”

“I get that,” Chrissy nods. “Don’t do anything stupid,” she grins.

Faux-affronted, he says: “I never do anything stupid.”

“And don’t lie,” she yells as she skips away and Steve has to laugh at her antics. She’s a bit like the little sister he has always wanted.

With a shake of his head, he makes his way into the forest, away from most of the school population. He makes sure no one sees him slip away. The last thing he needs is getting cornered alone in the forest with guys, who have any ideas about him.

He finds an abandoned picnic table somewhere and sits down. It’s nice to be alone in nature for a bit, far better than being alone at home. This is more peaceful. He’s less scared something will come through the walls or from the pool to drag him away.

The forest reminds him of Dustin and their track through the woods looking for Dart. The little guy is a fucking idiot for ever taking it in, but Steve thinks it’s endearing anyway.

Steve is still thinking of Dustin and the rest of the little shits when he hears someone walking up to him from behind. He sighs, not wanting to deal with this and in a monotone voice he says: “No, I am not stealing your girlfriend and I’m not turning her gay either, that’s not even how that works,” without even bothering to turn around.

An unfamiliar chuckle makes him turn around and there Eddie is, amused eyes, as he asks: “Do people really think that?”

“Oh, uhm, yeah,” Steve tries to find his footing under the sparkling chocolate colored eyes. God, they’re so pretty. To distract from his crush, he says: “You’d be surprised, man.”

Man, that is a not gay thing to say right? Fuck, Steve hasn’t been trying for a while now. He has no clue how to act right now.

“I’m honestly not,” Eddie replies with a smile.

Holy fuck, he has dimples, this is so unfair. Eddie looks like he doesn’t even brush his hair, yet he is effortlessly handsome and Steve hasn’t felt like this around anyone in a while. All he manages to say is: “No?”

“Naahhh, man,” Eddie drawls as he plops down across from Steve. “I’ve heard stupider shit. Pretty sure some of the basketball team thinks I have secret powers or something. If I had powers, they’d all be frogs.”

Steve snorts at the image and asks: “Would you let frog Billy keep his mullet?”

Eddie looks shocked at the contribution, before he cracks up. His laugh is deep and hearty, Steve wants to listen to it forever. Eddie says: “Sure, Billy can keep his mullet. That’s hilarious.”

The compliment makes Steve glow with pride. He’s pretty sure he’s blushing and he just hopes that Eddie doesn’t notice as a comfortable silence falls over them. Steve uses it to study Eddie, who is fiddling with ringed hands, seemingly unable to sit still.

“So, what are you doing out there?” Eddie asks after a few moments. He seemingly isn’t the kind that deals with silence well.

A bit embarrassed, Steve shrugs and answers: “Kind of done with people today. Needed a second to myself, I guess.”

“Ah, sorry,” Eddie says with an apologetic wince. “With that first reaction to my, albeit quite lovely, presence, I should have guessed you wanted to be alone. I can go.”

He makes a move to leave and before he can think of it, Steve exclaims: “No!”

“No?” Eddie asks, looking up from behind those bangs in a way that should be illegal. Like how are those eyes real?

Steve blushes and looks away. “I mean, you can. I- I don’t really mind you being here. It’s not like you have a girl to accuse me of stealing.”

At that Eddie lets out another of those laughs Steve has come to adore in a short time. Eddie shakes his head as he grins: “That I do not.” Then he leans his chin on his hand and twirls a strand of hair as he asks: “And what about the other thing?”

“Huh?”

“You’re also not afraid I’m here to beat you up for being gay? Or trying to turn me gay by being near you?” Eddie asks. “I mean, that’s what they’re saying.”

“Oh,” Steve says, before shrugging. “I guess you don’t seem to be the type to believe those things. Plus, no offense, dude, but I’m pretty sure I can beat you in a fight.”

The moment he says it, he wants to hit himself. Very smooth, Harrington, I’m sure he loved you reminding him how you can beat him up, you know, something that has happened to him with both Billy and Tommy, your former teammates.

However, Eddie keeps surprising him, he only quirks a brow, before grinning. “None taken, I suppose. It’s not like it’s a lie.”

“Sorry,” Steve says anyway.

“It’s alright, it’s not like I believe it,” Eddie tells him. “I’ve just been trying to figure you out, if I’m honest.”

“You have?” Steve asks, cursing himself for how breathless he sounds. But he can’t help it, it’s like he’s being pinned by those eyes, drawn in by those dimples and moving hands.

“Yeah,” Eddie says, meeting his eyes again. “I am just curious why you haven’t gotten angry about those rumors yet. You know, the ones about you being a queer?”

Steve can’t look away, even though he wants to. The word he slung at Jonathan once doesn’t hurt as much when Eddie says it. There is something comforting about him, that makes Steve open up. He knows it’s probably the pathetic crush he has on the guy, but he can’t help, but shrug: “I mean, it’s not like anyone is going to change their mind if I do. It doesn’t matter.”

“That is very much true,” Eddie agrees, opening his hands in an acquiescing manner. “But,” he goes on. “I would’ve thought your masculine jockiness wouldn't stand for such rumors going around. So, why aren’t you denying it? It’s not like those rumors are true.”

And Steve knows that Eddie is right. If such rumors about him went around a few years ago, he would have been on a war path, would have been denying them left and right, preferably as loudly as he could.

However, he hasn’t been able to bring himself. Just wants to hide away instead and hope they’ll blow over. He’s so tired of lying, of hiding, even if he knows he must. But a part of him hoped no one would notice it. That no one would question it.

Yet here Eddie is, questioning it and Steve is drawing a blank. He knows what he should say, but it’s not coming out and by now the moment has been dragging on for long enough that Eddie starts to put together why.

“Unless-” Eddie starts, eyes wide as if he can’t believe it. “Unless they are true.”

“Don’t tell anyone,” Steve whispers, preparing to run should Eddie make a move in his direction that he doesn’t like.

He can’t believe this is where his day has gone.

“Shit, man,” Eddie whistles. “Course not. I didn’t know you were family.”

It takes a moment, before the euphemism lands. Steve knows that Eddie has similar rumors following him, but the guy never confirmed them. A smart move. Yet here he is admitting it Steve, extending a hand of solidarity.

Steve allows a small smile to grace his face and he does some jazz hands. “Surprise.”

Eddie laughs at the action and agrees: “It’s certainly is. I never would have guessed. You’re good, man.”

“Not that good I’ve discovered,” Steve tells him.

“No?” Eddie asks.

“No, man, it’s crazy,” Steve says. “I’ve been told twice by the other girls that it’s nice that I look at their eyes instead of their tits and they’re surprised when I listened to Nancy’s no. I didn’t even know others did that.”

“Well, those others suck,” Eddie informs him with a snort. “Straight or not, they shouldn’t have been doing that either.”

“I know right, it’s so rude,” Steve exclaims, glad he can finally fully share this with someone.

“Yeah, Harrington, it is rude,” Eddie nods with amusement.

They fall into silence again, this one more comfortable. Steve feels giddy with feelings. Not only did he have a normal conversation with Eddie, his crush Eddie, who doesn’t hate him apparently. A huge win in Steve’s book. He also told someone he’s gay and the world didn’t end.

“You’re the first person I’ve ever told, you know,” Steve breaks the quiet after a minute or so of peaceful silence.

“Shitttt, dude,” Eddie says. “I kind of feel honored now.”

“Don’t get an ego, Munson,” Steve jokes.

“I won’t, I won’t,” Eddie grins.

Steve knows that Eddie isn’t that kind of person, but still he checks again: “You’re truly not going to tell anyone, right?”

“Of course not,” Eddie promises seriously. “I’m not an asshole, you know.”

“I do, sorry,” Steve says, anxiously. “Just had to make sure. I won’t either, by the way.”

“Good to know,” Eddie tells him, with a satisfied nod.

Eddie straightens his rings again, before fiddling with them. The movements are mesmerizing and Steve focuses on the way Eddie’s hands move. A few seconds later, Eddie drums on the table for a bit.

From their shared classes Steve knows that Eddie is a fidgety person, but he has never been so close to it. He thinks it’s endearing, but he won’t admit that ever.

“This is crazy,” Eddie breaks the silence again. “I mean, I came out here expecting you to get mad at me for all my questions before chasing me out the woods, but instead I find out that King Steve of all people is one of us.”

“Don’t call me that,” Steve snaps.

“What?”

“King Steve. I hate that guy, don’t call me that,” he explains.

“Sure,” Eddie agrees easily. “Now that I met you properly, he doesn’t seem much like you anyways, Harrington.”

“Steve is fine too, you know,” Steve offers casually, ignoring how his heart is beating in his throat as he awaits Eddie’s reaction.

“Alright, Steve it is,” Eddie smiles, showing off those dimples. He chuckles to himself: “I can’t believe I’m on first name basis with the heartthrob of the school. Are you sure it’s not illegal for me to call you Steve?”

“No, man, go nuts,” Steve laughs. “Besides, it’s not like people will care. I don’t know if you noticed, but my social standing has kind of tanked these past few months.”

“Welcome to life on the flip side, so difficult for you,” Eddie replies with a mock bow, which is only half successful, since he’s seated.

“I kind of deserved that,” Steve gives in.

“Yeah, kind of,” Eddie agrees. Before he moves on: “But that’s in the past, we all have our ways of hiding. What I’m wondering is why you decided to give up that safety for cheerleading. Doesn’t seem smart.”

“What is this? Some sort of interrogation?” Steve asks. He only half means it. Eddie is easy to talk to and he’s nice enough, but a small paranoid part of his brain can’t help but wonder why Eddie would want to know. He must want something, they all do, he just can’t figure out what.

“Sorry, just curious, I guess,” Eddie replies with a shrug, like he truly couldn't care less about the answer. “My theory was trying to get in their pants, but that has clearly been proven false.”

“I just like it,” Steve shrugs, before moodily adding: “Apparently that is a crime now.”

“Ahw, don’t pull a pouty face, Stevie,” Eddie teases. “Us mortals can’t handle those sad eyes, you can’t pull out those weapons.”

Steve doesn’t really think his expression is anything special, but the words from Eddie’s mouth make him blush anyway. What should be illegal is the way Eddie lets words roll of his tongue, so smooth and deep. His Stevie is different from when Chrissy says it.

Eddie looks at him with an expression he can’t place. Under his eyes, the blush just increases and Steve starts to feel awkward. So, he gets up and says: “Good talk. See you around, Eddie.” Then he hurries away.

He doesn’t really want to go, quite the opposite in fact. He likes having Eddie’s attention on him, but he has already told Eddie too much. And Eddie was teasing him. He doesn’t know why Eddie would want to know him and until he knows why, it’s safer to stay away. So, he has to get out.

Lisa is waiting for him near the door, so they can walk to their next class together. She frowns when she sees him and asks: “You okay? Chrissy mentioned you wanting to be alone for a bit.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he answers, plastering on a reassuring smile. “Just thought I was going to be late, you know. Hard to hear the bell out there.

Steve is quite sure Lisa doesn’t believe him, but she doesn’t push either. He is very grateful for that as they make their way into the school.

At practice they’re working on having Chrissy stepping from a foot on each hand to leaning with one foot on two hands. They can already get her up there smoothly, but she still wobbles too much when she steps over as does Steve. They fail more often than they succeed.

Both of them are getting frustrated with the stunt. Chrissy is similar to Steve in that she is a perfectionist and will train until she has it. So when training ends, coach Miller has to personally tell them to stop.

They pull a similar face, but it’s Chrissy who vocalizes what both are thinking. “We’re so close to getting it. Give us half an hour. I’m sure we can do it.”

“No,” coach Miller says. “Look I appreciate the enthusiasm, but it has to be safe too. Everyone is tired, I won’t let you break your leg, because you’re stubborn. You two can try again Monday, you’ll get it then.”

Neither of them are happy to hear that, but they don’t protests further. Coach has last call, they know they should respect that.

Still, the moment coach Miller walks away, Steve complains: “This sucks. Those last three went so good too.”

“I know,” Chrissy huffs as she crosses her arms.

“What are you two on about now?” Lisa asks, sounding amused. They’ve become quite the trio and she recognizes the two stubborn faces of her friends.

“Coach Miller won’t let us practice the stunt more,” Chrissy pouts.

“It’s like all her speeches about winning are suddenly not important anymore,” Steve adds. “Just because she’s getting old doesn’t mean we’re already tired.”

Lisa sighs and says: “We’ve been training for two hours, I’m sure you guys are tired. Hell, I am tired. You can use the rest. Stop moping.”

Now that he has stopped, Steve does feel pretty tired, but he’s not admitting it to Lisa. Instead he throws his hands up as if it’s a hardship and says: “Whatever. I’ll stop. But by Monday we’ll have to start from scratch again and I will say that I told you so.”

“Exactly,” Chrissy agrees. She has come to the same conclusion as Steve and is equally unwilling to give in.

“God, you two can be so stubborn together,” Lisa laughs softly. “Why don’t we meet up tomorrow and you two can practice your stunt to your heart’s content. I’ll be back spotter, no problem.”

“That’s an amazing idea!” Chrissy exclaims, before for face falls. “But I don’t think my mom will let me meet up with a boy like that. She’s super protective over my virtue. And I’m terrible at lying to her. She always knows.”

The excitement that welled up in Steve immediately dies down again. If Chrissy isn’t allowed to come, they can kiss the plans goodbye.

“Then don’t lie,” Lisa shrugs.

“Didn’t you listen? She’ll say no,” Chrissy says.

“No, I mean, just tell her you’re going to practice with some people from the cheer squad,” Lisa elaborates. “That’s not a lie.”

“You’re a little snake, you know that, Lisa?” Steve laughs as a smirk creeps onto Chrissy’s face at the loophole.

“That can work!” Chrissy. “Where are we going to meet up?”

“I mean, I have a pretty big yard,” Steve offers. “Grass is good cushioning.”

“Sounds good to me,” Lisa says. “Pick you up at 10:00, Chrissy?”

“Yeah, I’ll call you if something comes up,” Chrissy smiles.

With that planned, they go off to their dressing room as Steve makes his way to his car. It has been a while since he had visitors. He should clean up a bit.

As he throws out the trash and does the dishes that have piled up, his mind drifts over to lunch period and the meeting he’s been trying to put out of his mind. It is strange that he and Eddie know something so intimate about each other now. That they share something.

He remembers those cute dimples and kind eyes, a blush appearing on his cheeks as he does. But he can’t forget the questions Eddie asked.

It was just a friendly conversation, but he kept revealing all sorts of things about himself. And he knows practically nothing about Eddie. He doesn’t know why the guy is suddenly interested in interrogating him, when before now he hasn’t show any interest in even being friendly with Steve (much to his dismay).

The whole thing is confusing.

Eddie must have some sort of agenda, but he looked pretty genuine when promising he wouldn't tell anyone. Fuck, Steve hopes he hasn’t misplaced his trust in Eddie. He doesn’t know what will happen to him if everyone knew the rumors are true. His life would be over.

Maybe Eddie was just curious, Steve thinks. He did mention wanting to figure Steve out. Maybe he’s just rumor hungry like all the others out there, wanting to know about why King Steve gave up his crown, started hanging around middle schoolers, quit the basketball team and became a cheerleader.

It was probably a dare from his friends to try and figure out what had made Steve sink all the way to the bottom. Eddie probably told them how pathetic Steve is and they all had a laugh at him. Steve knows he deserves it, but that doesn’t stop the hurt that is clogging up his chest.

He should have walked away when Eddie got there. He knows that there is nothing that will happen between them, he shouldn’t get close to the guy. It will only end in heartbreak. Better to snuff this crush out, before it can start to burn. He is not talking to Eddie again.

Despite his determination, a dull ache follows him all evening, hanging around him as he brushes his teeth and gets into bed.

That night is filled with nightmares. He gets up at 5:00 AM and decides to go for a jog. He has a standard route that goes by all the kids. Seeing everything peaceful and quiet helps him more than the running does.

He showers when he gets home and doesn’t attempt to crawl back into bed. Instead he drinks some coffee and promptly throws it up. He decides against breakfast and tries to distract himself with school work until 10:00 rolls around.

Fifteen minutes after ten, the bell rings. Steve has been waiting for this and is at the door in seconds, smiling at the two girls on his front step. “Hello, ladies,” he greets, a momentary flashback of Barb and Nancy goes through his mind and he blanches a bit, having to swallow against the bile that threatens to rise up.

“You okay?” Chrissy asks with a frown, picking up on the small shift in demeanor.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Steve smiles, not wanting them to worry. Chrissy gives him a look, but then lets it go as she follows Lisa inside.

He offers them something to drink, which they gladly take. Now it’s Lisa’s time to frown and ask: “Are you not thirsty?”

Steve thinks of the coffee he threw up and shakes his head. “Feeling a little queasy, honestly. It’s fine, I’ll drink something later.”

“No, drink something now,” Lisa says. It isn’t often that she decides to speak up, so Steve knows she’s serious. “You need to stay hydrated, especially if you want to exercise.”

“Seriously, I’m fine, Lisa, I promise,” Steve protests. “Just not in the mood today.”

“Have you eaten breakfast yet?” Lisa asks sharply, ignoring what he has just said.

“I mean-” Steve fails to come up with an excuse.

“Eat something. Now. Or I’m bringing Chrissy home again,” Lisa orders. “I am not joking here, Steve. It’s literally about the safety of you and Chrissy. Everyone needs to be in top shape, so no one breaks their neck on accident.”

Steve catches Chrissy’s guilty look. With what he knows of her, the chance is that she hasn’t eaten yet either. He knows it’s unhealthy. He can force himself to eat something, if that means Chrissy eats something too.

So, he gives in, though he says: “Fine, but I hate eating alone, if I fix you two a bowl of yogurt will you eat with me?”

“Of course,” Lisa immediately agrees, glad that he’s giving in. “Right, Chris?”

“Yeah, sure,” Chrissy agrees too, but with a tight smile.

Steve feels a little bad about it and vows to talk to her about it, but he doesn’t want to pull attention to it with Lisa there. Not when they’re so close with the stunt that they’re both so excited about. It is just hard to start the talk. He doesn’t know how.

The three of them eat their yogurt. It’s a quiet affair and Steve has to struggle to get down ever bite, much like Chrissy is struggling. Both of them manage, however, under Lisa’s watchful eyes. Only when Steve’s bowl is empty do they go outside.

Despite the hiccup at the start, the day is quite fun. They practice for a few hours and manage to do the new stunt consistently after a while.

It’s a good day, very fun.

At around one o’clock four bikes and a skate board pull up to his house. They’re taking a short break on the front lawn, so Steve sees them coming. He waves at them as most of the kids let their bikes fall, before walking onto the lawn.

“What the hell, dude?” Dustin is calling out, without being close.

“Oi, language, you’re like ten,” Steve calls back, not really minding it, but also not wanting their parents to think he’s a bad influence.

“I’m thirteen,” Dustin protests indignantly.

“You didn’t answer the phone or radio,” Lucas explains when it becomes clear Dustin isn’t going to.

“We were worried,” Will adds softly.

“Sorry, man,” Steve says, before gesturing to Lisa and Chrissy. “I have visitors. We were outside. I must have not heard. I’m fine.”

“Told you,” Mike rolls his eyes, getting shut up by a slap from Max.

“You’re bailing on us for two girls,” Dustin pouts, before realizing how that sounds and saying: “No offense, I’m sure you’re very nice.” Then he turns to Steve and asks: “Isn’t that against the boy code or something?”

“I’m sure it isn’t like that,” Will tries defending Steve, though he also looks a little confused.

“It isn’t like that, no,” Steve agrees. “We’re practicing this new stunt. Coach forced us to stop yesterday, but we were so close. Besides, you never call the day before. This says more about your planning skills than my bro code, Henderson. Maybe work on that first. I’m not at your beck and call, dude.”

“But you always drive us around on the weekend,” Dustin pouts.

“You obviously lived,” Steve rolls his eyes, nodding towards the bikes. “Now stop being rude and introduce yourselves. This is Chrissy, that’s Lisa.”

The two girls wave and the boys seem to realize their own rudeness as they introduce themselves, eyes falling out their skulls when the two are friendly to them, instead of dismissing them like many older teens tend to do.

Even Max can’t fully hide her piqued interest under her usual aloof mask. She is also the one, who asks: “What kind of stunts were you guys doing?”

“Well, Steve lifts me in the air and then I stand on one foot,” Chrissy explains. “We’re still working on basics, but when we have this down, we can start working on flips down according to coach Miller. It’s pretty cool.”

“You’re a cheerleader,” Max realizes, her eyes flick to Steve and he can see the hatred Billy spat around her clicking in place. “Steve, you’re a cheerleader?”

“Really?” Lucas asks.

“Yeah,” Steve shrugs, trying to look like he doesn’t care what they think. “It’s quite fun.”

“But that’s for girls,” Mike says.

“It really isn’t, mini Wheeler,” Steve tells him. “Don’t let Nancy hear you say that, or you’ll get a lecture.”

“Ugh, I hate it when she does that,” Mike complains.

“Then don’t be a little shit,” Steve shoots back, placing his hands on his hips.

“Is it hard?” Lucas asks, changing the topic, much to Steve’s relief.

“Harder than it looks, but it’s also fun,” Steve tells Lucas. “It requires a lot of muscle and balance to pull of. I mean, I’m quite literally throwing Chris here in the air.”

“It’s very fun,” Chrissy adds on. “Stevie makes me fly.”

Steve sees Max word “fly” to herself, eyes a bit in awe. With her skateboard, Steve thinks she must like the idea of the riskiness that cheerleading brings. However, he pretends to not see, she will be embarrassed if he does.

“That’s very cool,” Dustin tells them excitedly.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s very cool,” Mike rolls his eyes. “Can we go now? Hopper said we were allowed to sleep over at the cabin. That’s way more fun that this.”

Steve can see Will wilt a little under the words, the quiet kid having kept to the background. He is sadly not a majority, since the others start to say goodbye to Steve and the girls, before going back to their bikes.

He gives him an encouraging smile, glad when Will manages to return it, before turning to follow his friends.

As they disappear out of sight again, Chrissy comments: “Cute kids.”

“Lies and slander,” Steve laughs. “They’re all the most annoying people I have ever met. The best kids, sure, but annoying nonetheless.”

“They could use some manners,” Lisa agrees, “but they’re quite funny.”

“You shouldn’t be mean to kids,” Chrissy informs them.

Lisa and Steve share a knowing look, before turning back to Chrissy again. Steve is the one that says what they both think. “Chris, you are still a kid. What opinion do you have.”

“You two are so rude,” she tells them, though she’s smiling anyway. “You’re only two years older than me.”

“Those two years feel like eons,” Lisa tells her. “You’ll understand when you’re our age, youngling.”

“Who is annoying now?” Chrissy says, before getting up. “Come one, lets get to practicing. You two are more bearable when you’re focusing on not collapsing under your old age.”

“Who’s rude now?” Steve chirps, but follows her anyway. He appreciates that neither of them take his bitchy comments seriously and that they give back just as well. It’s fun to toss insults back and forth.

Sadly they can’t stay forever. All of them have homework and Chrissy’s mom wants her home for dinner. So, they have to say goodbye at some point.

With both of them gone, the house feels more empty again. Neither of them had commented on Steve’s parents being gone, but no one ever did. Big house and no parents had been his tagline throughout junior year. It was kind of a known unspoken thing. He’s grateful for it too, he doesn’t mind not having to explain.

Still, that doesn’t make it any more fun to cook dinner for one and to eat it at the empty dinner table.

All alone thoughts he has been ignoring so well creep back in. Not only do the shadows start to morph into creatures that should have never existed, he is also haunted by the conversation he had with Eddie.

No matter how much he tries not to think about it, he can’t help but go over it with great care to try and figure out what it meant. To see if he can figure out what Eddie wanted from him. And to cringe at all the stupid shit he said.

Fuck, he’s just so screwed.

A/N:

I love how this a Steddie fic, but Eddie’s first spoken line is like 14k words in

Spoiler, Eddie wants to know stuff about Steve, because he likes him, Steve is just a bit of an oblivious idiot <3

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bi-leth-eisner · 10 months

Note

annette for all of the character asks if you’re up for it >:)

[cracks knuckles]

(1 and 2 were answered here!)

3. a song that reminds me of them

Chasing Daybreak, it played during Smash one time and i was confused because Annette wasn't there

4. how many people I ship them with

i ship her with just about every student she has supports with

5. my favourite ship of them

netteflix makes my brain do a specific kind of malfunction

6. my least favourite ship of them

she and Mercie are sisters to me </3

7. a quote of them that you remember

"See? I'm a great fighter!" stuck with me ever since i first heard it for some reason

8. your favourite outfit of them

HOPES ANNETTE HOPES ANNETTE HOPES ANNETTE

9. your least favourite outfit of them

i guess the maid outfit with the Three Houses dlc?

10. describe the character in one sentence

a hard-working bundle of sunshine that always gives her best and deserves everything good in the world

11. what’s the first thing you think about when thinking about the character?

her timeskip hairstyle! i wanna play with her hair so badly

12. sexuality hc!

aroace :>

13. our favourite friendship they have

her and Mercie are like THE best friends in my head

14. best storyline they had

i really liked her supports with Gilbert actually, getting a bit of insight on the both of them was really nice

15. worst storyline they had

i can't really think of any? her B support with Mercie is all that comes to mind

16. a childhood headcanon

this one took a really long time because i have a bad imagination, but maybe the reason she learns how to use magic is because she wanted to protect her friends even from afar at a really young age

17. what do you think their first word was?

probably something like "help" or "here" because she's always there to help

18. how do you think they were as a kid? (like, were they shy, noisy, wild, etc)

on the shyer side, very soft-spoken

19. the most random ship you've seen people have with them

her and Hubert

20. a weird headcanon

she's transmasc :)

21. when do you think they were at their happiest?

singing for Felix :>

22. when do you think they were at their lowest?

right after the Tragedy, with the whole "father leaving you and mom behind because he wrongfully thought the tragedy was his fault" thing

23. future headcanon

she becomes the best teacher at the School of Sorcery and really leaves a big mark in history

24. what do you think is a secret they have that they never told anyone?

that she's under the constant weight of never feeling like enough no matter how much she does

25. when do you think they acted the most ooc

i can't pull from Hopes because i've never played it, so once again that good old B support with Mercie

26. when do you think they were being "themselves" the most?

after the first mock battle between the houses, when she says that they wouldn't even be the Blue Lions at all! except for the blue part. because they'd be sad. without Byleth

27. if they could meet a character from another show/movie/etc, who would be the most fun for them to meet?

YOSUKE HANAMURA FROM PERSONA 4 it's 100% self indulgent but i do not care i need my faves to interact

28. the most unnecessary thing they ever did?

B!! Support!! With!! Mercie!! (derogatory)

29. how do you think they would be as a parent? (and if they are a parent, how do you think they would be if they weren't?)

oh this was another tough one... despite all the energy it would cost i think she'd still try her best to stay positive about everything so her kid(s) would have a good role model

30. the funniest scene they had?

"Gah! Who put this stupid barrel here?!"

#asks #ask game moment

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theepoguelandia · 3 years

Text

1 step forward, 3 steps back

(Inspired by the Olivia Rodrigo song)

Warnings: mean Rafe, toxic relationship and pretty angsty

Called you on the phone today

Just to ask you how you were

All I did was speak normally

Somehow I still struck a nerve

Rafe and You had been dating for almost a year now. You two had met at university and as much as your friends would say it was love at first sight, it really wasn’t.

You both ignored each other’s presence in all your classes together, Rafe thought you were just another suck-up student and you automatically hated him for being a frat boy.

But your feelings quickly turned from hate to love when you once found him crying on your way to class, he was very obviously trying to hide his bloodshot red eyes, but failing miserably.

Despite your better judgment, you pulled him to an empty classroom and just hugged him.

He fought your embrace at first, hating to have you of all people, see him so vulnerable. But after realizing you weren’t letting go, he melted into your embrace.

After that the two of you couldn’t escape the obvious connection you had, always meeting and eventually you fell in love.

Now, almost two years later, you had a boyfriend and it was safe to say he was your world.

Currently it was summer, and Rafe had to go home and visit his family, which automatically made him get into the sourest mood and he found himself at his lowest point in two years.

On Saturday morning you called him, 10:30am like usual

“Hey, love, good morning” you spoke from your side of the phone, a smile tugging at your lips picturing your boyfriend’s lazy smile and tired face

“Hi” Rafe replied shortly, quickly swiping off the smile of your face

Trying not to push his buttons, you ignored the dryness in his response “How did your dinner go last night?”

“Fine” he mumbled, you imagine he was brushing his teeth form the sound of the water running in the background

“I’ve got that job interview today” you said excitedly, maybe if you took the attention off him he would reply better

But you got no response from him

You got me fucked up in the head, boy

Never doubted myself so much

“Love? Did something happen? Did I do something to upset you?” you inquired nervously, setting down your coffee and taking a seat by your bed, your bottom lip in between your lips

“For fucks sake” you heard him mumble to himself

“You didn’t do anything, Y/N, I just got a lot on my mind” he said in a harsh tone, making you shrink into your bed at the sound of your full name leaving his lips.

Rafe never called him by your name, only nicknames and pet names.

Like, am I pretty? Am I fun, boy?

I hate that I give you power over that kind of stuff

You knew something was wrong with him, but because of your own insecurities, you immediately assumed it was something you had done.

Maybe you were too clingy. Maybe he didn’t want to talk to you every morning just because he was away. Maybe he didn’t want to talk to you at all. Maybe he found someone more exciting.

'Cause it's always one step forward and three steps back

I'm the love of your life until I make you mad

“Okay then” you told him quietly, trying not to allow the quivering of your voice to be heard, but Rafe heard when you sniffed back tears

“Are you serious?” he asked with an unamused laugh

“What?”

“Are you seriously crying right now?” he inquired almost angrily

“I just don’t understand what I did wrong” you told him weakly, but the sadness was quickly being overuled by the anger at the way he dismissed your feelings

“I honestly don’t have time for this, Y/N. I’ve got more important shit to do, instead of listening to you bitch to me” with that statement he hung up on you, leaving you there looking at your wall in utter shock

It's always one step forward and three steps back

Do you love me, want me, hate me? Boy, I don't understand

No, I don't understand

Dating someone like Rafe Cameron came with its up and downs, and you knew that from the very beginning.

He would go from cuddling and kissing your face to ignoring your presence and dismissing your embrace in matter of hours.

And maybe in some masochistic way

I kinda find it all exciting

Like, which lover will I get today?

Will you walk me to the door or send me home cryin'?

It was a rollercoaster, to say the least. But it was worth it, because when Rafe was at his highest, he would really loved you.

Shower you with compliments, kiss any skin of yours available to him, he would buy you gifts, take you on dates and hold your hand the entire time.

So it was worth to take the hit occasionally.

Right?

No, it's back and forth, did I say something wrong?

It's back and forth, goin' over everything I said

It's back and forth, did I do something wrong?

It's back and forth, maybe this is all your fault

Later that same day you got a text from Rafe asking how your interview had gone, as if your entire interaction in the morning hadn’t happened.

Despite your heartache, you brushed the hurt aside and played your part, like you always did.

“The interview was amazing, Rafe!!! I think i’ll definitely get the job!” You sent him with a smile on your lips when you saw he was already typing

“So proud of you, baby girl! The world is yours to conquer (; “

Instead it's one step forward and three steps back

And I'd leave you, but the roller coaster is all I've ever had

A/N: hope you guys liked it, if you did please give it some love <3

Please let me know if you’d like to get added to my taglist and which stories you’d like to get added to.

Love you all <3

Taglist: @rafeseggplant

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe fanfiction #drew starkey #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #outer banks smut #( rafe cameron )#outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron fanfiction

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nat-20s · 3 years

Note

#10?

prompt 10- recognizing the other's voice in a crowded room

so uhh u didn't specify this being a pairing, and it ended up jonmartin lol

this is like? an au where one of the domains of the lonely (and also maybe stranger) plays off the specific loneliness that comes with parties. u kno the one, where you have fun for about an hour and then realize that you're fundamentally isolated and you need a breather?

anyway

~*~

Upon opening his eyes, he is not where he last remembers being. He is not sure how long his disorientation will last, but considering he's standing up right, at the edge of a crowded ballroom, he suspects it may be the entire time that he's here.

He had fallen asleep on the couch, the TV blaring away on a program he didn't know any of the details of. It hadn't mattered what was playing, as long as it had some of the natural rise and fall of other people speaking. He had been severely mising that lately, those gentle rhythms of conversation, and trying to listen to an audiobook while staring at his bedroom's popcorn ceiling just wasn't cutting it. So, TV dreaming it was.

Oh, that could be what was going on. An elaborate dream, constructed from the sound of a scenario he hadn't paid any attention to. He didn't think he'd fallen asleep watching anything to spark this kind of dreamscape, but that didn't mean much. It'd be oddly lucid, for a dream. And oddly sharp. His dreams, much like his memories, were always somewhat clouded over, and never as colorful as reality. Even his grayest waking days, of which there were many, had colors more distinct than what appeared in his mind's eye.

Simple test: he could never read or write in dreams. The words always swirled and distorted, and he somehow lost all manual dexterity. He needed a book, or a pencil, or both. He began to wander the ballroom, and abruptly realized that this was a masquerade, everyone wearing elaborate costumes with animal shaped masks. Did he fit in? Did he belong? He hoped he wasn't in what he fell asleep in, the worn hoodie and sweatpants barely worth making a grocery run in. The outside world wasn't supposed to see him looking comfortable, but presentable. He liked to think that if he left the apartment appearing at least somewhat put together, maybe people would believe that extended to other areas of his life. That it would be easier to ignore the increasingly dark circles under his eyes, that his nice sweater had been getting gradually looser as the tool of everything literally wore him down.

Small mercy, he wasn't like that now. A glance down showed that he was, like the rest of the guests? Captors? dressed to the nines. He has a suspicion that his own elaborate outfit, dark blues with gold and pearl embroidery, was a part of it. It was not a mercy to blend in here, it was a design element. Standing out would result in being noticed, being noticed meant being seen as an individual, and they can't have that.

It is with that line of thinking that he suddenly becomes aware of the weight of the mask on his face, the restriction of his sight through eyeholes. Looking into a teapot that's been polished to a mirrored shine, he see that he bears the incredibly crafted face of a field mouse. It would almost be plain, if it didn't have matching embroidery to his coat.

Fitting, he thought. It made him look smaller than he was, and he had so often wished to go unnoticed. A fly would've also worked, but he imagines it would be rather hard to make that into a suitably beautiful mask. Either way, he was level with the rest of the crowd. Even believing it to be part of the trick, even knowing that the masquerade was meant to make you false, there was some level of comfort to it. He was not going to be seen here. Instead someone more handsome, more charming, more even with his peers was allowed to take his place, as false as they were. Best of all, that's what all of them would be doing here, the whole appeal of a masquerade in leaving behind the person you loathe most and can never be free from.

Seems lonesome, for a party. So structured around the theater of it all. You can connect with countless people, and you don't get to actually connect with any of them at all.

Oh.

Oh, now this made all made sense. Crave interaction, and get a warped version of it.

He could see the napkins, emblazoned with a name that he didn't recognize, presumably the host, and, in much smaller font, the company name. Every one of them was consistent.

Easy enough to receive the message. This wasn't a dream. This was a punishment.

Hmm. Well, no, punishment might be the wrong term. Punishment implied that it was a consequence, a direct cause and effect of doing something wrong, by someone's definitions of "wrong". No this was. Torture is too strong of a word, and again, has the problem of making this seem willful. Deliberate. And maybe it was, but more likely, whatever this was had just sort of happened. A cruelty that comes with being in the universe they all happen to occupy.

This wasn't a dream. This was a consequence.

He doesn't know how to get out of here. He can't see any doors, and exits. The only approximation of one is some giant frosted glass that seem like they might lead to a balcony. They're only on the other end of the ballroom, but that lengths feels impenetrable, like it spans for miles and miles of harsh terrain.

There's a few options available to him.

One: Try to fall asleep, and see if he can get back to where he started. Lowest effort option, but he's pretty sure he hasn't been this fully awake in months. Maybe years. Something about the environment makes it feel as though electricity sparks throughout his entire body. It's an interesting sensation, certainly, akin to anxiety taken to an extreme degree, yet it's not particularly conducive to sleeping.

Two: Make a break for it. He doesn't know if there's anywhere to make a break for, but he also isn't sure how high up this place is. Maybe the balcony is a viable option for escape. Or maybe he'll find a door that had previously been hidden from him. Hell, maybe he won't fully escape, but he'll find somewhere quieter at the very least. Somewhere that he doesn't leave him so thoroughly dazed. This is probably the best option, even account for the wall of people surrounding him. But.

Option Three: Join the Dance.

Inadvisable. Foolish, really. The best outcome is..what? Is there a best outcome? Worst outcome is he's dancing forever, until his feet wear down to stubs of bone, until he dies, until he cant remember anything but the dance. Never a connection with any dancer, all of them, eventually, a blur of activity and nothing more.

Yet, it's what he's going to do. He's not the most curious person he knows, that honor goes to a man that he's been in love with for years, but can't grasp any of the details of while he's here. That can't be good. What was his name?

Anyway. He's not the most curious, but he's hardly immune to a detrimental sense of interest. He wants to know what the dance is like. He wants to see the intricate costumes of the others stuck here, and see if there's anything behind the masks. He knows it will, inevitably, leave him lonelier. He knows, inevitably, that he does not care. At least this version of loneliness is more interesting than sitting in his flat, wondering whether having thin enough walls to hear the echo of his neighbors' voices would make things better or worse. So, when someone approaches, adorned in a shrew mask, hand outstretched to pull him into the fervor, he accepts.

The dancer is competent. Neither of them steps on the others foot, and he lets himself be led. Even better, the dancer is willing to talk. A man named Tom, his voice cheerful even as he confirms that he doesn't know how he came here either. Tom shrugs when he asks if this bothers him, saying if you're going to end up somewhere mysteriously, gliding across a ballroom with a handsome stranger is hardly the worst place to be.

It takes a second for him to register the fact that Tom's flirting. It makes him laugh, and it feels wrong in his throat. The sound is unfamiliar, almost belonging to someone else, but it's brief enough not to hurt. He'll grieve all the time he's lost later, for now, he says, "How would you know if I'm handsome with this mask? Or are you just making a flattering guess?"

Tom opens his mouth to answer, a grin on his features that suggest something playful and wry is about to come out, but then the song ends. They both know, somehow, that the brief rapport they've gotten to enjoy has come to an end. They swap partners, and as much has he would like a second dance, when Tom gets swept into the throng, he knows he won't be seeing him again.

The next dancer is at a higher skill level at him, which results in nerves encroaching on what limited ability he has. Perhaps the peacock mask should've been a tip off. He doesn't speak to them, more focused on trying to keep up. He doesn't regret that they'll only have one dance, but he is slightly remiss that his own costume doesn't have feathers after watching the way they move.

The dancer after that catches him for a slow dance. Her name is Shelia, and he's never seen such a dazzling smile. He tells her as such, and she tells him that she would tell him the same, but she hasn't actually seen his own, yet. He makes an attempt, and she tells him, "Oh honey, you're waiting for someone here, aren't you?"

When he states his confusion, that nobody comes to mind, or at least, that nobody is going to come, she shakes her head. Apparently, she can always tell when her dance partners have somewhere else to be, and she doesn't resent it, but it does mean she's not going to give him her number for after the night ends. He's amazed she believes this night will end, but it's a sentiment that seems far too rude to voice out loud.

He also knows that he doesn't have somewhere else to be. If he did, he would've never joined in.

The music continues, and so does he. He tries to get names, tries to get connections. He flirts with Mark, and Nadia, and Jamie. Those people are his favorite during the dances, but losing the also feels the most acute. Robert is his least favorite, even more so than the peacock, for how incredibly small the fox makes him feel. Nothing is even said, it's just the entirety of body language screams that Robert doesn't think he belongs here, that he's not worthy of the clothes he's wearing or the hall he's haunting. Ironically, he's right. He doesn't belong here. These clothes, these people, are not his. Only Robert is quite so skilled at making that seem like a bad thing.

About ten dances in, long past the point he should be winded, he realizes two things. One, there's no pain in his feet, no heaviness to his breathing, confirming once again that no aspect of this environment is natural. Two, is that he's actually had a path. Sometime in the spins and leads and follows, he had been making his way towards the center of the floor. He denies the next partner, likely the worst of a faux paus in this environment, but he needs a moment to stop. Taking in the scene, he has yet to find the source of the music, but he has found the host of this party.

There's nothing to physically show that he's the host. His costume isn't particularly ostentatious, at least not compared to the rest of them. He's not surrounded by a horde of people clamoring for his attention. He doesn't glow or sparkle or have a spotlight on him. The only reveal of his status is the fact that the second he looks at the man in the owl mask, fear floods through him.

Now he needs to run. He needs to leave, he needs to get out, he can't let the man in the owl mask see him, let alone approach him. Pushing his way through the crowd is a bad idea, will bring too much attention to himself. However, he's not in a state to think about that sort of thing, panic gripping his actions. As he shoves his way past one person, he swears ten more people tke their place, and he, oh so close to despair, is unable to tell if there's any actual distance being put between him and the owl masked man.

As he's about to start biting, clawing, screaming his way out any way he can, he hears something that makes him stop.

"Let him go, or I will make you let him go."

The statement is cold, filled with vitrol and determination. It should only make him more afraid. But as he turns around, he sees someone he never expected to be here, someone who has come here anyway. In an all black outfit, the man's face is covered with that of a cat's, but he has not a single ounce of doubt as to who it is. And he's facing off against the owl man, the absolute fool. He's facing off against the owl man, and Martin knows that it's on his own account. What the hell? He can't...he doesn't know what's going to happen to him, what exactly the owl man is going to do, but he can't let Jon get hurt. Begging his voice to pierce through the pandemonium of people and noise, he calls out, "JON!"

Jon finds him in an instant, eyes locking. They only have a second before the crowd pushes in, before the owl man reaches out, wing-like cape ready to wrap Jon up and snatch him away. Jon simply calls out, "Balcony!" before he's once again out of sight. Martin wants to go towards him, wants to follow the instinct to try and protect the one he loves, but going forward is impossible.

The tempo and volume of the music has swollen, and he's surrounded by hands reaching out, trying to pull him in. One of those hands, much to his surprise, belongs to Tom. He stares, uncomprehendingly, and Tom shoves his hand out even further in an act of urgency. He has to participate to make progress.

He holds on tight, all the basic skill of their first dance lost. It doesn't matter, as long as Martin participates, he is rewarded. When the next song begins to play, Tom strengthens his grip, and they manage to prevent the switch. In a manner of minutes, or perhaps hours, they make their way to the edge of the crowd. Martin can see those beautiful frosted doors only about 10 meters away, mostly unobstructed, and releases Tom from their dance. "Thank you. I seriously didn't think..just, thank you."

Tom gives him a nod, his expression much more solemn than it had been during their initial meeting. "After our first dance, I remembered my kids. A daughter and son. If they're out there, wherever out there is, I need to get back to them. If you can get yourself out, maybe there's hope for the rest of us, yeah? I think you might be a tipping point."

Martin had no idea if that was true. Sounded a bit too..center of the story for him. The hero, the chosen one, he was never going to fufill those roles. But. But he doesn't know what a denial would serve, and if he can go through those doors, who knows? "Yeah...yeah, maybe. I'll certainly try."

Tom clasps one of Martin's hands between both of his own, and with a quick shake, tells him, "That's all I ask."

In a blink, Tom has once again been swallowed by the fray, and Martin strides to his goal. He catches glimpses of the owl man out of the corner of his eye. Despite the sight making his heart race, the owl man never makes it to him, almost as if the dancers had forcibly blocked his path. Fascinating, isn't it, how a crowd can turn against someone in a matter of moments. Fascinating, isn't it, how a crowd can decide to help someone in the same span of time.

As Martin stands in front of the exit to the balcony, he has to take a breath. This could be a trick. A trap. A cruelty. If it is, he'll deal with it. If not, well.

Well.

The doors are heavy, but he's still able to push them aside. The sight outside is incredible. The stars are dazzling, brilliant, and numerous, resembling themilky way that Martin has only ever seen in pictures.

It's wrong. It's obviously wrong. Martin's never been anywhere remote enough to escape the effects of light pollution, and he's pretty sure a brightly lit manor isn't the exception to that rule. Yet, that's not what's bothering him about it. He can't quite articulate why, but the sky in general should be..different. Worse, maybe. Greener?

Jon is staring up into the night sky with a fascination that confirms Martin's suspicion. After he takes a step towards him, Jon turns towards him, and a smile appears that knocks the breath right out of Martin. When has Jon ever smiled at him like that? It doesn't make sense, feels like another trick of the party, but Martin decides he doesn't care, he'll enjoy it while it lasts. "I have to say, this is definitely one of the nicer looking domains we've wandered through. Always a plus when we end up somewhere without any bloodstains."

That's not... "Huh?"

With an aftertaste of a laugh and a shrug of his shoulders, Jon tells him, "Just that, for as much as I despise the loneliness, it does at least have cleanliness going for it."

He knows of the fears, at least, but the way that Jon is talking about them doesn't make sense. He's going to ask about it, try to get some clarification, but then Jon takes off his mask. There's more grey at the temples than he remembers, more eyes than the average person, and he's stunningly beautiful. Martin's always found Jon rather good looking, even when he didn't particularly like Jon himself (god, what a fool he was. Maybe what a fool they both were). Combined with the softness in the line of his mouth, the adoration in his eyes, it leaves Martin breathless, speechless, thoughtless. Feet moving of their own accord, he drifts closer to Jon. Once he's standing in front of him, Jon reaches up, then pauses, as if asking for permission. Half in a daze, Martin nods, then leans down. Ever so gently, Jon lifts Martin's mask off. The pinpoints of contact between his face and Jon's fingers almost burn, and he realizes that despite the electrified sensation under his skin, he's been cold this entire time. Mask fully off, Jon beams at him, and lets out a quiet, "There you are."

It's too much. It's the tipping point for him to go from enamoured back to properly baffled. "Jon, I don't..what are you doing here?"

Jon smile drops, and Martin almost wants to take it back. Almost, because he needs answers, because if this is a dream, if this is a nightmare, it's more wicked than he could've ever expected. Being stuck forever in a dance with only partners whose greatest talents were being alone in a crowd is one thing, but having a..a false Jon, one that regarded him with...that acted like...that felt anything close to the same as Martin was so..exacting. When it got taken away, when the illusion shattered, it would hurt. It's already hurting, anticipation of the wound causing a phantom pain. Jon's brows are furrowed, and at least that is familiar, expected. "I..thought you would want to leave. I came to get you out."

"I do," did he?, "but that still..that's not the why? Why would you come for me?"

"Because I love you? I know I'm not much for the swashbuckling hero role, bit I figured that would make me rather uniquely qualified."

Martin sucks in a breath through his nose and his eyes go wide. Ability to read be damned, this is a dream, and mean one at that. He's going to wake up, and he's going to remember, and he's going to be as alone as he's always been. "Since when? You're not..I think we've just started being friends, and it's not even, fuck, we're not even that close! And even if..if things were in development, which they aren't, you're supposed to be in America right now. Or, no, wait you're in a coma, or maybe..no, that's not-"

Martin's spiralling is abruptly cut off by Jon taking his hands. Looking at his face, he finds Jon staring back, his eyes, his two eyes, are searching him, and Martin realizes he might not be the only one that's lost right now. "Martin...what's the last thing you remember?"

A mostly empty flat, the delightful mix of insomnia and exhaustion, and the TV with the volume turned down low enough to not bother anyone but himself. The context around that scene is a bit fuzzier. "I..was at my place. It was..I dunno, it was boring."

"Anything else. Do you remember Jane Prentiss?"

"Of course I remember Jane Prentiss. Not likely to ever forget the worst two weeks of my life."

"What about Scotland?"

Scotland? "I'm mean, I've never been, but I, uh, am aware of the concept."

Except that wasn't quite true, was it? He had been to Scotland, and Jon had been there, but when? Why? What had they..

Jon's frown deepens. "Martin, do you trust me?"

He did. Despite everything, or maybe because of an everything he couldn't quite access, he really, really did. His response of "Yes" is more of a breath than a word, but Jon understands nonetheless. Jon reaches up, places his hands on the sides of Martin's face, and tells him, "Close your eyes."

Martin does as told, and Jon brings their foreheads together, an approximation of a kiss. There's a buzzing at the base of his skull, not painful, but not particularly pleasant, either. As Jon leans back and he opens his eyes, the sky is wrong, but it is the wrong that he has become increasingly accustomed to.

He remembers.

Jon hasn't fully released him yet, asking still ever so gently, "Back with me?"

Martin nods, and Jon drops his hands. Immediately, Martin grabs one of them with his own, because while it may be the apocalypse, at least he can do that as freely as he likes. "Yeah, yeah, I'm good, " he looks down, and sighs, "Eugh. Do miss the clean clothes though."

Jon gives a hint of a smile, and as he begins to move forward. "Now you understand my point about the lonely having a tidiness to it."

"If it's all the same to you, I think I'll take grime over memory loss any day."

"Next domain is a corruption one, so we'll see how much that holds true."

"Of course it is."

They walk in silence for a few moments until Martin gives Jon's hand a quick squeeze. "Hey Jon?"

"Hmm?"

"Thank you for getting me out."

Jon replies, "Of course," as an easy statement of fact, and Martin believes it. He has to add, "And I love you too."

The responding smile he gets from Jon makes him think he might be one of the few people in existence to feel lucky after the end of the world.

#replies #fluff prompts #tma #jonmartin #martin blackwood #jon sims #anon

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nyxicnymph · 2 years

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Nyx's Genshin Diary: Day Nine: game session: 02/20/2022 streamed: No.

Did I spend primos: ...Yes. Did I fight bosses: Yes. Did I do anything productive: Yes.

I logged in early in the day and did my commissions. I got ellis' commission for the second day in a row, which is nice. I like finishing off all four of them with something easy. When I'd finished with that, I poked through my characters and decided to ascend barbara.

So that took me to the oceanid. Which sucked for once. I hate the flying illusions. I actually had to ditch the fight once because those birds killed three out of four of the characters I was using and I didn't have a catalyst on my team at the time. I came back after a quick swap out and revival session and finally got the goods to ascend baby babs.

I ascended a few other characters too, most notably Sucrose, who I've been working on for a bit now. I also went back and looked at my amber build with a friend, and did some work on her.

Having done that, I decided to actually build four different teams. I built one team entirely out of catalyst users, mostly because they deal almost exclusively in elemental damage. I figure they'll be good at taking down loads of elemental based enemies, and they're actually pretty decent against hilichurls too. This team consists of Ningguang as the main, Sucrose, Barbara, and Lisa. I put barbara on this team because none of the other girls can shield, so they definitely need her healing ability, which uh. I've seriously been underestimating.

Team two is built with all my heavy hitters, and is my "main" team. (main is in quotes because uh, once I built teams, I started swapping between them like crazy. lol. what's a main.) This team has all my highest level characters, lowest level being beidou at level fifty and not yet ascended, highest being diluc at sixty but also unascended past that point. Traveler and Kaeya sit in the happy middle range. By far I most enjoy swapping between diluc and Beidou in battles. The overload reaction is just so, so good. traveler and Kaeya are also good for quick strikes in tight spaces, and I play around with traveler's different elemental alignments frequently. I usually run around as diluc, but in battle I'm swapping around pretty frequently.

Team three is a bunch of teens that somehow work pretty well together. This team took on a ruin guard at stormterror's lair and came out five minutes later with hardly any damage. Noelle didn't even need to heal anybody. The other three on this team are Chongyun as the heavy hitter, Xingqiu for precise attacks and the frozen support, and Xianling for heavy elemental attacks and quick, precise attacks. Noelle is the shield/healer, and my second big powerhouse attacker. these four are actually hella fun to run around with, and I love imagining how they'd interact with each other. Especially with Noelle being the only monstadt one, I wonder how the other three would react to her. Xingqiu and Xianling just feel like they might end up causing property damage if left alone together, and Chongyun and Noelle are the only people who might be able to keep them from doing so. Except it's really only Noelle, Chongyun gets roped into misadventures for a week straight as soon as Noelle has to return to monstadt. It's funny, I wanna write more about it BUT I'm getting derailed.

Team four is currently named Amber + support, but I'm about to change it to Archers+Support. I built this team around Amber, as I want to play more with the archery side but I am tired of her getting whackamoled as soon as any close range combat happens. Initially, this team was Noelle, Amber, Lisa, and Yanfei. Then, I realized I hadn't put Xinyan on any teams, so I swapped Lisa out for Xinyan, which gave me a good close quarters damage character and also three pyro characters in one place. I might switch Yanfei and Sucrose today, just for some variety. Anyway, I had Noelle on Amber's team as well, since I figured her shield could do some good. But remember that part at the top where I spent primos?

Yeah, I'm not exactly proud of it, but I am happy I did. I pulled ten on Yae's banner, because I honestly wanted different characters on all my teams, with no doubles. A horrible reason to pull, but I knew if I pulled on yae's banner I would most likely get a character, and since I didn't have any of the fourstars featured on this banner, I was okay with pulling solely for a fresh face. And I got Diona! Which I'm hella happy about. A second archer to play with, plus it doesn't feel as bad to swap Noelle out for her since she also has a shield. It's short lived but still useful, plus I had just done Diona's hang out quest and really enjoyed her character. Also she doesn't move around as much as amber does.

Moving on, I've officially unlocked all the teleporters in Monstadt, Liyue, and the Dragonspine. Inazuma is scary and I'm not ready to go back. Domains are also another story but other than that I can go almost anywhere now mwahahaha.

While traversing the dragonspine, I found an interesting little cranny with some frozen boars. I'd heard something from my sister about needing frozen boar's meat for a quest, so I went ahead and took my chance to get it done. Imagine my surprise when I accidentally found myself facing a giant boar king! I beat him after almost freezing poor diluc to death, and then getting diluc killed anyway by the boar stomping on him while he was stuck in a corner. Fun times. I told my sister where to get the meat for the quest and warned her of the boss fight, so now she knows and should be prepared. SInce I knew that the meat was a quest item, once I'd unlocked the last teleporter, I teleported to the adventurers camp at the base, and lo and behold, there was a mission over the chef's head.

Then came the carrots fiasco. I was looking high wide and windy just trying to find carrots. why are they so hard to find. Why. I finally found some after looking up some info on google. I rely on google a lot, but I'd rather not get frustrated by a lack of carrots if I don't have to be.

Anyway, when all was said and done, I did a lot of stuff yesterday, including a mini side quest about a dead adeptus' treasure. which lead to me fighting two ruin guards back to back. Fun times.

I also finally got all nine stars in the first floor of the spiral abyss.

thanks for reading if you got this far! That's all for today lol.

#nyx's genshin adventures #nyx talks about stuff #the castle's lady speaks #genshin impact

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polar-stars · 3 years

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☕️ + megumi and hojo?

(Give me a ☕️ + a character/ship and I’ll ramble off whatever thoughts and opinion I have about it)

Oho, interesting! Thanks for the ask!

Megumi Tadokoro

Megumi is a character I love and adore. She has given me no choice in that matter, lol. I cannot possibly dislike a character who portrays such a huge amount of real, genuine kindness. Adding to that, she's incredibly easy to relate to (I know that I am not the only one who does).

In my opinion Megumi has had some of the very best moments in all of Shokugeki, especially in it's earlier parts. The Shokugeki against Shinomiya in Trainings Camp is still my favorite battle in the whole manga after all. Her performance in the Autumn Election Premlins was also really satisfying and sweet to see. (Monkfish Preperation Scene Supremacy)

Tsukuda really did great on making Megumi a character that I really want to see succeed.....But that is where the problem comes in.

The problem is that Tsukuda struggles with the Show, Don't Tell-Rule from Central Arc onwards.

Pre-Central, Megumi's character development was solid in my opinion. It was believable and not too fast-paced. But once focus was shifted to Azami-Drama, Megumi and other characters had to take a little step back from the action. And Megumi's character arc started to stagnate.

Through Training Arc. Autumn Elections and Stagiares, Megumi had visibly gained some more confidence in herself and her stage fright problem from the beginning of the series was ceasing. However there was something missing: pay-off. Her character arc lacks proper pay-off.

You see, throughout all of Central Arc Megumi has not won any single fight on-screen. She was given one victory against Shigemichi Kumai but not even second of that fight was actually shown to the reader. But when it's time for a more detailed fight against Momo, she looses.

In her fight against Momo, the judges do find the time to point out tho that Megumi might hasn't been able to beat Momo however there is quote unquote ✨potential✨.

Thing is that the "potential"-thing has been getting old at that point. It felt very reminiscent to Megumi's fight against Ryo back in the Autumn Elections. Ryo was able to win, however it was made clear through multiple dialogue-lines that Megumi did give him a good fight, defying the expectations the audience had from her. So basically that fight was like: Yes, she lost now. But she is on the right path. There is a lot of potential.

The issue is that time has progressed ever since the AE and it was about time for us, the readers, to see that potential unfold.

But we never got that.

We get a lot, a lot of talking about Megumi's potential throughout Central Arc but never an actual showcase of it. And it does not get much better with BLUE Arc either (I mean, what do you expect from that trainwreck of an arc anyway?)

First off, despite all of her potential and her participation in the Regiment de Cuisine & the retaking of Totsuki as a whole Megumi somehow ends up with the lowest seat in the Neo-Elite 10??? And I'm just: Why??? Why is she the only explicitly ranked below Eizan & Nene (who got a massive downgrade) with everyone else far ahead? (Tho the Neo-Elite 10 Ranking as a whole is one confusing mess and I should probably stop trying to bring sense into it if I do not want to go insane, lol.)

The infamous Hot Spring Fight against a Noir is where we finally see Megumi shine a little on-screen (at least in the manga). And well....I enjoyed seeing that but...

It is still not the proper pay-off she deserves, I'm sorry. Because ultimately that Noir-Guy is some random One-Off we never saw again. And that's a problem.

This character had no time establishing himself to us. We barely know him.

To put it into perspective: Satoshi Isshiki beating Julio Shiratsu in the RdC did not feel like a very impressive thing. Because we have only come to know Julio in that one fight and had absolutely no judgement on how powerful he may be (not to mention, that he was mostly placed in a very ridiculous light). It would have been a lot more impressive to the reader had Satoshi won his later fight against Eishi Tsukasa, because Eishi is a character who we have spent a lot more time with and who has repeatedly been portrayed as absurdly skillful and an actual threat.

See what I mean? As much as I loved seeing Megumi being an absolute badass in that Hot Spring Saga...It was not the satisfying pay-off I want for her.

The few victories she gets are always against random One-Offs while her fights against the more important characters are always a loss for her. Case in point: BLUE. She gets anOTHER off-screened match against some Noir in Chinese clothes, whose name I won't bother looking up if he even has one, where all characters talk about how talented she is but once it's time for her to go up against big bad bitch Asahi she looses. And that sucks.

Not to forget the fact that Megumi always gets strung along to every big event but we never get much justification for her participation (other than the obvious Meta-Reason that she's a main character).

Think about it, her and Takumi got extremely lucky in Train Arc by having Rindou giving them a free pass just for the lulz, while everyone else got expelled. Then a good number of messy chapters later, Megumi and Takumi get invited into BLUE without even a shred of reasoning behind it. Why them? How random is it to invite the 1st, 7th and 10th seat but no one else? Meanwhile when BLUE Arc was first mentioned in the manga they told Jouichiro that it's actually extremely rare for a student in that age to get into this tournament. And Jouichiro was a 3rd year back then, what are those three 2nd Years doing there??

The anime at least addressed that by having Totsuki's students fight for the participation (I appreciated that, if only the episode that covers it wasn't so lazily done)

I'd have much less of an issue with that if they actually gave Megumi something to work with in that arc. But really in RDC and even more so in BLUE, she's mostly just there I feel. She barely really impacts the story meaningfully in both of these arcs, I feel.

And it's one big shame.

As I said, I love Megumi and Tsukuda set her up as someone who I wanted to see succeed and defy expectations. Her journey up till Central Arc was a lot of fun and very compelling but then it just...came to a halt. And her arc never got any real, proper closure I feel. She was instead pushed more and more into the background and she just did not deserve that, man.

Never forget that she is one of the mains after all and she should have been treated as one.

damn I did not think this would get this long ahhdhdf

Miyoko Hojo

When realising that Miyoko's speciality is Chinese cooking, I was super excited for her! I really love Chinese food and I've been waiting for it to be covered in Shokugeki up till that point.

I like Miyoko quite a lot, she's definitely one of my faves from the...well, I don't think "secondary" cuts it...the tertiary cast. Unfortunately we've got to see so painfully little of her.

I like that Megumi, in the most Megumi-ways, made her learn a lesson like "Feminism =/= You can not possibly get along with a man. Ever.", but it was also interesting to see acknowledgement of the inequality of men and women within the culinary business through Miyoko.

Miyoko's friendship with Megumi is something I adore and I would have very much liked more of it please. I enjoy the thought of Miyoko, this tough, unapproachable woman, having her face soften whenever this pure, little angel approaches her. Also 100% sure Miyoko would drop-kick whoever gives Megumi a funny look.

I also would have liked to see Miyoko interact more with Kuga, because I imagine it could have been a lot of fun. From the one, tiny interaction they've had I feel that Terunori actually respects Miyoko quite a bit. Which I think is interesting, because Terunori otherwise seems to enjoy bitching at people.

Honestly? If you ask me??? Miyoko should have been in the Regiment de Cuisine.

I'll never get over how she's shown in the audience, alongside Nao, smiling when the rebels are about to snatch victory. Like ahdhFJG, excuse me Ma'am what business do you have just watching??? You can not tell me that from what we've seen about Miyoko that she would not be up to kick Azami's ass out of Totsuki. I generally think it's stupid for the Rebels to go up against the Elites in a number even to them.

Azami. Explicitly told you guys. That you can bring more than that.

You were up against the Elite 10 Council.

YOU SHOULD HAVE ASKED ANYONE YOU CAN GET!

YOU SHOULD HAVE ASKED MIYOKO

(and Nao as well tbh)

(The Regiment de Cusine could have been a lot better to buy for me if the Rebels had shown up with more participants tbh but that's a different subject)

Anyways, as I said I wish we could have seen a lot more of Miyoko. But it just wasn't meant ot be :( I mean, when characters like Alice and Akira get pushed to the side, what chances does the tertiary cast have?

I'm at least glad that she is sort-off shown being the new president of the Chinese RS in Les Dessert 1? I like that for her.

But yes, ultimately...another criminally underused character. I look forward to write her being a cool mom in my fanfic tho.

#well #that was rather lengthy hdhfhf #Rambly Asks #Shokugeki no Soma #Megumi Tadokoro #Miyoko Hojo

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nemrut · 3 years

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Epic Seven / Re: Zero Collab Units

So, a lot of units were revealed. Three five-star collab units and five three star regular units, and it is amusing to me that the three-star units are creating more buzz.

Since I am not a big Re: Zero fan, I am also more drawn to the three-star heroes, although, I have to say, the collab units seem solid so far.

Personally, I am mostly drawn to Emilia as of now, at least on paper, simply for her more offense oriented Soul Weaver kit. From what I remember, her kit doesn't really seem to work thematically for her all that much, or to her in show capabilities, but it works for the game.

So, Emilia. Her S1 gives healing based on her own max health to the ally with the lowest health. That's solid. Nothing too special but solid. Makes counter viable on her, similar to Destina only without the potential cleanse from the EE. With the right artifact, she can either heal one target with the same effect twice or heal two different units at once.

Her S2 is her best skill. It dispells two debuffs from an ally, gives increased attack for two turns and increases their CR by 40%. It also increases her own CR by 25%. With mola, the CR on the target can increase to 50% and it is on a two turn CD. SB also heals the target unit for ten souls. That's one packed skill. Can be used for cleavers or units like Straze or LQC or any other offensive unit with no atk buff who is a bit slower than her.

Her S3 cleanses two debuffs from her whole team, heals them and gives a two turn barrier. Nothing amazing but respectable.

So, all in all, she doesn't bring any new skills or abilities on the table. I will probably give her Ray's equipment and call it a day. She is a typical cleanser soul weaver where one should focus on speed, ER, HP and Def in that order. She is still very solid and I would personally benefit because I have no cleanser who provides and atk buff and cr push at the same time. I think she is also better than ML Kawarick even though they have similar kits, lol. But anyone who already has one built could probably pass on her but dunno, she has better animation and her ER imprint does make things easier.

Her artifact is interesting, in that it gives a flat ER of 15% on top of healing an ally once a turn for what I assume is 15% with no copies at plus 15. It serves her well, but of course, soul weaver artifacts are good across the board and all of them can work there.

While her S1 might allow for a counter set, I do think speed/ER set is the way to go. You want her fast enough to use her S2 or S3, depending on the situation and she has to go before the rest of your team. She doesn't even care that much whether she goes before the enemy or not. If she goes after, she cleanses their debuffs, if now, she just uses the S2 and starts an attack with your cleaver or damage dealer. She is definitely going to be useful.

Rem is more interesting in that she is getting new abilities, but that also makes her a bit harder to predict.

Her S1 can defense break the enemy. 35% odds without mola and 50% with mola. If she is in demon mode, she attacks twice.

Her S2 is her weird new stuff. When anybody dies, she cleanes all debuffs on herself and activates Demon Mode for two turns. This can only happen once every 5 turns so, basically, in pvp/rta that means it can only happen once in a fight. Demon Mode means that she is immune to debuffs, it cannot be stripped and the debuffs she applies ignore ER.

When an ally is attacked, she has a 15% chance to counterattack with iron strike. In turn, iron strike attacks all enemies, decreases their buff durations and makes them unhealable for 1 turn. It also says that iron strike takes priority over counterattacks with basic skills, so that means she counterattacks with Iron Strike instead of her S1. Molas increase her counterattack chance to 20%

Her S3 gives herself an attack buff and aoe attacks all enemies and decreases their hit chance for two turns and increases her own CR by 50%.

Her artifact increases crit chance by 15% and whenever somebody dies, it gives the user a CR push between 12 and 24%. Not sure how much CR push that is for +15 without any copies.

Artifact is meh, tbh. I guess it can be useful, but dunno if I would give her that.

Team imprint is health and on her self it is plus crit chance which would make it easier to go for dps build but have fun getting several copies of her with three collab heroes and artifacts plus summer Iseria and her artifact around the corner.

So, what about Rem? Her kit is interesting at least. She needs for someone to die before she starts going crazy which is somewhat fitting. That means she probably doesn't want to go first if one wants to take advantage of the ignores ER thing. In fact, one can build her with no effectiveness at all, which makes things at least a bit easier. That said, she seems to be a lot more gear hungry than Emilia was in order to use her effectively.

For her S2 condition to activate she needs to be teamed up with an ally who is rather fast and can snipe at least one enemy unit before she takes a turn, in which case one can get away with a bit less bulk. Still, I do think one wants to build Rem as tanky as possible, as she should remain on the field for as long as possible and hit the enemy team with Iron Strike and attack twice with her S1.

So, I am unsure how she would interact with a counter set. Does the sentence "Iron Strike takes priority over a counterattack with a basic skill" refer to all counterattacks she makes or only those which are facilitated by her S2? If only her S2, I would probably go for a bulk and damage with medium speed. So, speed or atk sets. If it refers to all counter-attacks, maybe go with counter. I think one can give her Champion's trophy and hope for stuns on top of everything, although her skill makes it clear that the ignores ER effect does not apply to artifacts, so enemies might resist there, especially if there is no effectiveness on her otherwise.

All in all, I can see two options with her builds: Either go for dmg or go for debuffs. Either way, she wants to stay on the field for as long as possible to counterattack as much as possible. She should be fun, but I don't know how good she will work.

Think will have to sit on her kit for a while longer. I could also see the cockroach approach with her, where you accept that the one person dying is on your own team and hope Rem can turn things around afterwards. If the one dying is on their team, you are kinda wasting the self cleanse but then again, planning for someone on your team to die is not a great strategy, even if you have a reviver on your team. That said, maybe she works really, really well with Arby, who should count for the team death thing. I don't know, it seems fun at least.

Last and maybe least is Ram. She is a mage, gives her team health with imprint or effectiveness to herself.

Her S1 attacks one enemy and has a 60% chance (75% with mola) to decrease attack for 1 turn. If she is buffed, it reaches 100%. Soul Burn allows her to attack all enemies for ten souls.

S2 is a passive and increases her own Atk by 30% and reduces the effect of CR debuffs on her by 80% (100% with mola).

S3 attacks the enemy and inflicts def break on them for two turns and gives herself Greater Attack Buff (also called GAB in case you heard a youtuber say it and didn't know what they meant)

Her artifact increases her ATK by 15% and decreases dmg suffered by elite or boss monsters by 15% at +15.

So, I'll be honest, she seems a bit underwhelming. Her S1 is aptly titled How Boring. because it is a very boring skill. Decrease Attack is not useless, by any means, but it is also not that great. A possible aoe on her S1 with ten souls can be useful against enemies hiding in stealth, but there are better options. Her passive is interesting at least, since it means she can't really be pushed back, and she has a lot of atk. That said, her S3 is okay, but also not great.

With her artifact, she seems more of a pve unit, but she also should be useful in pvp. Like, with 30% atk from her s2, 15% atk from her artifact and GAB on herself, alongside a decent attack set, or a speed set with good atk, that should translate into a lot of dmg with her basic attack, especially if it can be a potential aoe with only ten souls. She can also be paired up with Lilias who benefits from her high attack to cleave, especially if she goes after her and there is someone def broken there.

Could build her with no crit chance and crit dmg in order to get her speed and atk as high as possible, or a bit less of both and go for a more traditional damage dealer for pvp.

As for pve, I don't know, maybe expedition? She could def break for Banshee, but so can a milllion other units. I don't know if she is useful after that, but can't imagine her replacing Baiken there. Also find it hard to believe that someone wouldn't have Leo or Bellona or kluri or any other def breaker for that, so can't see how she is good for wyvern. If she had been ice or fire, I would say good for either one of those two hunts, but banshee might be the one hunt her skill-set is ill-equipped for. Might be overlooking something, though.

So yeah, those were the collab units and artifacts. Seems solid enough, I like Emilia and Rem seems interesting enough. A bit meh on Ram.

Still, the three stars seems more exiting, oddly enough.

#epic seven #epic 7 #re:zero #re zero #collab #emilia #rem #ram

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xxrat--punkxx · 3 years

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JUMPING ON THIS BAND WAGGON

Ok here’s my 2020, tw//mentions of suicide and abuse

(Strong start lmao) 2020 sucked ass lemmi tell ya. This year was a fucking train wreck from the start, ur hay I got character development so who cares. Well let’s start with a review, bad things first.

Yall remember when everyone was scared shields of COVID?. Lol. But that’s stating the obvious. When we went into lockdown I was first like fuck yeah summer lol, but then the threat of ‘staying home for the rest of the year’ set in, bing in my first year of sixth form I really understand the stakes of exams next year. So having to stay home for the rest of the year freaked me the fuck out. I literally couldent cope, having to do all classes online was fucking hell, they were never zoom classes either, just ‘lmao do the work and hand it in’ which was near impossible for me. I was also in the constant ‘oh no I’m so stressed but I will do NOTHING about this lmao~’. As the days turned to weeks and inevitably MONTHS, my mental health said buckle up bitches. Days were spent sitting in my room on my phone doing NOTHING, meanwhile this perpetual notion of stress played in my head yet there I sat not having the will or motion to move.

Then my parents got involved. Now THATS when shit went from pretty crummy to awful, now I was living with them constantly I was able to see who they really were with no real filter. And oh god do I have issues, I didn’t even fucking know. Every day was an argument, my mom was the worst, the MANIPULATION, the constant ‘you're tearing this family apart’ or ‘so I’m the problem?’ Or the fucking indecent playing the victim. And I all only just realised, that they have been doing this ALL MY LIFE. Dad got involved but he was just physically violent, only twice tho. The worst part was my work, admittedly yes, I didn’t do everything I was given, but I tried, I really did with what little motivation I had. But with just one ‘oh your daughter hasn’t handed in this work’ I was a ‘lazy, good for nothing failure’ to quote ‘who will never go anywhere in life’ so I’d spend the rest of the day crying while they play the victim bury saupying I was abusing their love and just using them for money. But the next day be like ‘oh I’m so proud of you you're doing so well’ having that statement being completely unrelated to the previous events. This was constant. So that’s that story. I won’t talk much about Black Lives Matter because we all know about how that went. But it really affected me, I found myself crying over the victims multiple times. And the lack of support for the movement my peers or family showed made it fucking worse. Crying was a common occurrence for me now, mental health really taking a nosedive, being too scared to call myself ‘depressed’ or ‘mentally ill’ to any extent because I know I’m faking it and just want validation. That was also constant. Fun times huh.

BUT IT GETS WORSE 🥲, then I had to go back to school, awful to fucking abhorrent now. Year two of sixth form fun right? Sure, if u take away the ‘no free time period’ or the wanting to kill mystery for literally a whole 3 weeks. That was my lowest peak. Ever. I’ve never wanted to kill myself before then, don’t like that feeling. Shocker huh. That mixed with the constant anxiety of nothing is right anymore and also needing to succeed at school all made one healthy dose of ‘.exe has stopped working’ juice. Yet I played the fool, acting happy as if nothing had happened, or was happening at least, and venting by imagining scenes in my head with fictional characters lmao. Telling myself ’u can’t kill yourself because u don’t deserve too and ur just asking for attraction’. Then midterms happened blah blah blah, stress but I’m numb to it now that whole story.

But that’s not to say there wasn’t a silver lining.

Onto the good things finally, yes the year was probably one of the worst years I’ve been through in my life it did not go without its positives. For example early this year I got into borderlands properly, I finally explored the fandom and had a look at what it was like. Albeit a slow process considering I was still predominantly on Instagram at the time, and finding a community of a fandom on there is impossible. I started browsing Pinterest or the Internet for images that would link to my favourite characters, Who were to no ones surprise is the calypso twins. Pinterest led me to artworks and artworks led me to the infamous Lazulizard. Who I cherish all my being. Three weeks later after looking at her entire tumblr blog and stalking her of pretty much all her content (sorry for that by the way) I found border-spam. By this point I didn’t have tumblr and I had no intention of getting it seeing as an ongoing war I’ve had with myself since 2012, declaring I will be the bigger man and never get tumblr, which in hindsight was an awful mindset. Seeing as tumblr is probably one of my favourite places on Earth right now. But after also stalking border spams account, again sorry, and starving her of any content she’d ever posted. I was happy that this fandom although as niche as it is was actually getting content. At the time spam and lazu were absolute gods to me. Being the sole producer of a fandom I probably wasn’t even in properly, having both impeccable writing and impeccable art like good God. I would often think ‘wow wouldn’t it be incredible if I actually got to talk to them one day’, now look at me I’m doing commissions for both of them good God. And to be short joining tumblr felt like a fever dream and it’s probably the greatest thing I could’ve done this year, my parents are wrong, talking to strangers is amazing.

Something notable of mention this year as I actually got to figure out who I am as a person, I was able to find my own style and to find my interests, specifically in what I liked in terms of clothing. I thought I was LOL 2012 goth hipster but no apparently I’m manic Pixie dream girl. Going from pink is the ugliest colour in the world to having it be the only colour I will ever wear. I made some pretty big choices this year like cutting pretty much all of my hair off and dying it for the first time. Thanks strict parents for only letting me do that one now. But like I said I went to a character Ark and you know what I like it. I also played BioShock fallout and horizon zero dawn for the first time this year starting to really feel like a proper epic gamer, good lord kill me, and falling in love with all of them almost immediately. I also figured out on a plant mum and I’m into vulture culture although my parents have to disagree with that one. Asking to buy an Horse and fox skull somehow scared them a little bit can’t seem to figure out why lmao.

So a conclusion, Fuck you 2020 you made me miss two comic cons and I will never forgive you for that shit I am SO mad. But I will give you the benefit of the doubt you did make me meet some absolutely incredible people who I consider my friends, despite going against every single Internet safety law I was ever taught as a child. But you know what who gives a flying shit I love you guys. So that’s what I wanted to say. I want to say thank you to everyone on here and everyone is following me or even interacted me with on that matter. You mean the world to me and I really fucking mean it. Are you going to be nothing but amazing ever since I walked onto this fucking hell hole. And what I go through all of this bullshit again if it means I ended up here? You know what I think I just might. So again I thank you and I hope your year didn’t go as badly as mine, and fuck it bring on whatever the fucks next!

Honourable mention of this year was The time Elisa actually complimented me and I cried a little bit and had a panic attack but you know that’s for another day

🥺💕

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blushing-starker · 3 years

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hiii darling!! saw you were a bit desperate for smth sweet and good so!!💗💗

i’ve sent this prompt to jae before, but i still adore the idea of little peter being in daycare and developing a fever! and daddy tony brings him to daddy stephens practice where he works as a family doctor. and so lil peter gets examined by his own daddy and cries in the cutest and most heart aching way when dada gives him an injection to bring down his fever🥺🌡

but tony comforts him of course!

“dada had to do that so you’ll feel better, baby.”

“i’ll see you later today at home, petey. i’ll bring you something yummy from the store, okay? now, go along with papa and cuddle loads with him till i get back home. that’s doctor dada’s orders.” - raf🐇

here you go! The first part while I crank out the second part. I know you read it already but I wanted to at least post it. Thanks for sending me the ask dear! I really appreciate it! 💓

It starts on Monday in the sandbox during recess. Peter doesn't really hang out in the small park right next to the classroom, prefers the cool temperature of the library where Miss Maria often turns a blind eye to his antics involving a screwdriver and the dismantling of any electronic device he and Ned can get their hands on. MJ, just a year older, is halfway sure the librarian purposely leaves old toys on the lowest shelf, but she isn't a snitch and it's, don't tell anyone though, fun to spend time watching the two boys figure out a way to pry open clocks.

His daddies are overjoyed their boy is like them, enamoured by how things work and how they could improve such things with the minimum of resources. In fact, Tony cried while talking over the phone with his mother, eager to tell Maria how her grandson replaced the wheel of a car the daycare was about to throw out in a few days. Peter, ever vigilant, had run to his daddy, afraid he was hurt or sad. He'd thrust the car into Tony's hand to make him feel better and Stephen's absolutely ridiculous husband sobbed harder while nearly suffocating their child in a hug. Maria sent Tony's old engineering kit from when he was a child and their Kleenex ran out the minute Peter wandered over to poke at it.

Stephen shouldn't tease Tony too much. After all, the doctor spent more time bragging about his little boy's intelligence than he did discussing his patients’ conditions. And maybe, just maybe, he sobbed in the bathroom when Ned came for a sleepover and loudly proclaimed his best friend had comforted another classmate when they fell and hurt their knee. Apparently, Peter had sent Ned to warn Miss Wanda while he calmly explained that all they had to do was elevate the area, clean with soap, wrap a Hello Kitty bandaid on the wound, get ice on it and be attentive to any signs of fever.

The whole thing was exactly, word for word, what Stephen had told Peter when his boy tripped on the sidewalk and roughed up a knee. Tony found him sniffling while cleaning out old anatomy books that suspiciously appeared in Pete's bedroom the next day.

They don't talk about it. But now the whole family has a bet on what the young boy's profession will be.

Yes, his daddies are happy he's shown an interest in their fields of study. Yes, they want him to explore and learn and have fun with different subjects. Thing is, they also know how important it is for a child to go outside and play with others. An intake of vitamin D was very good for a growing boy.

(That's bull, they would have gladly given ten thousand toys to Maria Hill for her to leave around the library so the trio could dismantle them. But then Miss Wanda cornered them in the hall and told them that no, Peter also needs a bit of sun and some interactions with people besides Ned, MJ and Shuri, a girl from another group who also liked the library. They begrudgingly agreed.)

So Monday morning after waffles drenched with too much syrup Stephen chooses to ignore are devoured by two sets of grabby hands, Peter’s daddies gently suggest he spend a few minutes playing outside with the others.

Peter pauses, screwdriver in midair and toy car set down on the table with careful movements. There's a little furrow between his brows, so identical to Stephen's that Tony wants to kiss both his boys for being the cutest people in the world. He refrains from doing so because ‘Peter needs to know when we're being serious, Tony, and that means no kisses during serious conversations’.

“Have,” oh no, their boy is chewing his lip, abort mission, abort, “have I been bad, dadas?”

Tony accidentally rams his elbow into his husband's ribs when pouncing on Peter and Stephen is very close to considering divorce. “No! No, baby, you've been good all month. Promise. Daddy and dada just want you to get a bit of sun, play around with the others for a few minutes and then sneak off into the library.”

“ Tony, that isn't what we agreed, oh Christ. “ This elbow jab was on purpose. Stephen stumbles out his chair, muffles the curse words against the kitchen counter while his horrible partner cradles Pete's face and presses kisses all over the boy desperately trying not to stab his daddy with the screwdriver.

“Don't listen to dada, you can spend five minutes out and then visit Miss Hill.”

“ Who? “ That scrunch is back and Tony loves Peter more than anything in the world. Well. No, he loves kissing Peter more than anything in the world. The boy giggles, reciprocates as much as he can until Tony cheats and tickles soft skin under a cotton sweater.

“Miss Maria, Tony. They call her by her first name instead of the last name. I'm getting some ice. Jesus, do you sharpen that thing?”

------

He can be a good boy. He's a good boy. Five minutes outside. Peter can be outside while Ned’s in the bathroom and MJ heats up her lunch for the day.

(Ned and Pete had the daycare mac and cheese; their bestie preferred homemade pizza.)

It's not that he dislikes the park; it's a cool park! There are slides and hiding spots and swings and trees for shade and the wheel that they're only allowed to be on if the teacher's controlling the speed. But the library is always slightly cold and full of adventure.

Sometimes they read a Star Wars book series laid on the floor in a circle with blankets and pillows Miss Maria brings them. If the trio feels tired, Shuri invites them over to the movie area her friends have set up with Disney films queued up. When their spirits are higher, electronics prepare to be dismantled.

Still. He can be good. And, besides Flash who doesn't really get along with him, all of Peter's classmates are nice and fun. The only problem is where to spend, Loki!

Peter runs to the sandbox, jumps over the bridge to a slightly odd looking Loki that's waving his hands in a general ‘no, don't run at me, slow down’ motion. He's too excited to not tackle the teenager that helps Miss Wanda during recess by entertaining twenty kids with wild tales full of magic and wonder.

Hands that never warm up that much immediately curl around a small body and there's a weakened chuckle buried in Peter's fluffy hair. “Hello, little puppy. Odd seeing you without your two companions. Odd seeing you at all, really, since that cute nose of yours is always buried in a toy or book.”

Pete smashes his face into a soft shirt, loves how safe Loki makes him feel with his hugs and hair ruffling. He likes Thor, too, although he prefers the younger brother a lot more. Which Stephen says is a bit unfair since the only reason Thor can't hang out with him as much as Loki does is because the blonde trains during recess with Sif and the others in the wrestling team.

Loki can change his voice a lot; a gift very few have, Peter's grandma once mentioned, and even fewer people use it well. Miss Wanda tries to take them to all the school plays so they can cheer on the others and break routine, but the first graders are very adamant on which theatre kid they love most. Thor's brother could paint the air and make even the most boring speech exciting to hear. Peter was obsessed, dragged his daddies to every play Loki was in and pleaded for a picture afterward. Not that he had to ask for long; the youngest of three would often take multiple shots with Peter before anyone else could even come close to him.

You could say Pete was Loki's number one fan. Which meant he knew how to distinguish between Loki's voices. After the face smashing ritual, he peeled away to squint at cheeks too pale and eyes too red. Relatively tiny fists curled around black cloth.

“Are you hurt, Loki?”

“Not at all, sweet puppy. I'm just sick. Thor and I went back home on Saturday and we seem to have caught a cold. Which is why it's probably better you don't stand so close, wouldn't want you getting sick. My parents decided we should stay home, but I left one of my books here, the one about Viking stories, remember, last Friday and came to pick it up. “

He remembers the book, a heavy thing with a leather cover and wolves drawn on pale paper every few pages. The story about Thor dressing up and tricking the giants is Peter's favorite. Imagining his Thor wear a bride's veil tends to make him giggle.

“So I can't have a kiss?” He pouts, peers at Loki through dark eyelashes, even wobbles a pink lip when it looks like he won't get what he wants. It works as soon as tears cloud his eyes. Like daddy, like son.

The teen sighs, leans down to plant a single kiss on Peter's forehead when a classmate nearby falls into the pit, sand goes up Loki's nose and the dark haired boy sneezes all over Peter.

-------

It takes an hour for him to start sniffling and complain about cotton in his head. Thirty minutes after that, Ned catches him wiping a runny nose with a sleeve. Said sleeve is completely drenched in less than a class’ duration. Miss Wanda calls Tony in to pick his boy up during a midday meeting he couldn't care less about as soon as the teacher says ‘it looks like a cold and he shows symptoms of a fever’.

He probably breaks ten driving laws in the span of fifteen minutes, but that's insignificant when you're friends with Mayor Rogers and your husband fixes up the arm of one Mr Rogers-Buchanan. Tony crashes into the principal's office, deflates with relief when he sees principal Fury teaching Peter how to unscrew a cabinet infamous for being creaky.

“And now I spray a little oil so it doesn't make the weird noises?”

“ That's right, now we take the can, spray just a tiny bit, like I showed you, that's good. Remember to always have a paper towel nearby in case it drips. Those are some very nice pants you have on and I'd hate to see them stained. “ Peter sticks his tongue out, carefully dabs under the oiled up hinge, motions a fond looking Fury to hand him the screwdriver, and gets to work.

Tony leans against the doorway, shushes his friend and Peter's godmother, Nat, when she comes in with coffee for Fury. They stay there, take it all in and realize Pete's growing up. They also realize they might win the bet.

“Ow! Gosh darn it, pinched my finger while getting the cabinet adjusted.” Fury sucks his finger, is probably running through much darker curse words in his head when Peter gently plucks his finger out and presses it against the cold side of a water bottle Miss Wanda most likely gave him to help the fever.

“Ice helps the inflammation, principal Fury. If it doesn't go down, and I don't think it will cuz this is just cold and doesn't have any ice in it, you should eat a snack and take some medicine. “ Tony swears he's never seen Fury more proud or pleased than in that moment.

“Your daddy tell you that, Peter?’

“ Oh no, sir. Daddy can't really, uh, his mind is too busy thinking about building robot bodies to think about human bodies. Don't tell anyone, but grandma says she saw him put butter on his elbow after he knocked it on the door. “

“Really? How old was he? Maybe he was small and didn't know any better.”

“ That was last week, principal Fury. Dada's the one that taught me all about the human body. Daddy couldn't figure out our medicine cabinet with an instructions manual and a Youtube tutorial. “

Tony clears his throat while Fury’s busy howling against the carpeted floor and Natasha cackles on her way to the infirmary.

“Hey, baby. Daddy's here to take you to dada’s.”

#peter parker #tony stark #stephen strange #ironstrange #starkerstrange #little!peter #daddy!tony #dada!stephen #awesome facial bros #my writing #rafni bunny

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hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall · 3 years

Text

So this will be quiet long but very important for anyone that follows me or my work.

First of all I want to thank you all for reading and reacting in any way with my blog (whether its reading my own stories or liking whatever I reblog). It matters the world to me, really!

I have created this account to be as anonymous as I can be while doing something I love - writing. I'm not native in English and I never said I'm perfect in it, but there is something in this language that gives me more freedom and creativity than my own. And by creating this account I wanted to set my imagination free and just write. Whether it would be ff or any stories that would came up.

I have a huge anxiety and one of the lowest self esteem and creating something as big (or small whatever you call it) as a Tumblr account has been an enormous step for me. Despite being anonymous I was giving a huge, uncertain part of myself to a world and people I have never seen or met before. I became more vulnerable than I have ever been before. And in the beginning I loved it. It has become my gate away from a serious, sometimes too hard to handle life. It was fun and I have met some amazing people (shout out to all the Discord people, you know who you are!)

It took me a long time to understand Tumblr (and still I'm not sure if I know how it works). I was growing with it and when I go back and see my first stories I cringe but it kind of gives me satisfaction. Because I see that I grow not only as a person but also as a writer.

Maybe this is why I need that time off?

I would have never thought or hoped for over 550 followers. So many people looked at what I create, what I like and decided that, yeah 'I'll give her a chance'. This is why I think this gets harder and harder the further you go. Because you grow and it is only natural that you hope that while you grow your work will grow with you. And when it doesn't, it hurts. Something deep down inside makes you realise that all these people don't follow you because they like what you create, but because they like what other people create.

Do not get me wrong. I am happy to reblog anything that has caught my attention. There are people out there that are just so amazing and are not being heard or appreciated enough. Which makes me think that God, I'm such a whiny bitch! But I don't know, maybe I am…

For over three months I think I published two stories. Each had less than 70 interactions. I am not going to be the one to say reblog reblog reblog, because I'm actually happy with the likes. A simple like (hell even a heart comment makes my day) is just simple enough. I like and strive for constructive criticism. I write for the people and I want to hear what they get to say. And when the time has come that they are silent, so beat it, so will I.

I know I'm being selfish, because I am the last person who should say this. I have an awful tracklist of reacting to stories. But for me, even a stupid like is a road from anxiety to an almost panick attack 'am I too pushy?' 'What should I write?' 'This story is too good for me to ruin it with my stupid comment'. So here, please answer the comments, reblogs, because if you don't, people won't keep posting them.

I'm not leaving Tumblr. I will try and quiet down the voices in my head and actually be more productive in a reblog and comment sections. But I will not be posting anything.

For the past four months I have written A LOT (over 50) short stories, one-shots or longer stories that I haven't published because I just couldn't find a reason to. NOT LIKE ANYONE'S ENJOYING THEM ANYMORE ANYWAY.

So before I start hating on writing I need a break. Maybe I will come back, maybe it will take me a month, maybe a year. Maybe I will never come back. But now? I just don't find the fun in it.

I'm sorry to these people that wait for my stories. I really am, and I hope you will understand. But from now on MY MASTER LIST IS SUSPENDED.

Thank you to those that read through all this. And I hope that you don't take it as my whiny cry out thing. I want to be fair with all of you and the only way of doing it is for me to open up.

See you soon 💕

#bye bye #good bye #i need a break #emotional #im sorry #masterlist suspended #ill be back #i hope you see this

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teacherunicorn · 3 years

Text

Rewrite

Chapter Six

dying

The snowy forest was dense, but felt empty, like walking through a graveyard. You could tell something was waiting to jump out and attack you. hurt trying to survive

Rook had had Shadow in her life for just over six years now. Appearing at what was perhaps her lowest low, the entity had been harsh with her at first, it's words faint and migraine inducing.

The one thing that had come through clearly was the lullaby it sang when Rook was crying herself to sleep. The song was clearly old -- it wasn't your standard nursery rhyme and no one she'd mentioned the lyrics to had known what she was talking about. But her strange follower knew them by heart; never once missing a step or loosing the melody.

Perhaps it was her dependence on that song that allowed other things to come in clearly, not that they were as helpful. It was mostly gruesome threats to people she got angry at and a desire to take supplies from others at food banks and homeless shelters.

While tempting at times, such actions were simply not who Rook was. She continually frustrated Shadow with her goodwill and giving nature, and arguing with them led to further migraines.

The two weren't....friends, not really. They just happened to be stuck with each other -- literally. It didn't matter if Rook knew she could trust Shadow's instincts when it came to dangerous situations, or if Shadow's malice seemed to ebb away anytime they sang their lullaby to a crying Rook.

It wasn't until that good karma came back around; a woman she had shared her food with and given up her bunk at the homeless shelter for supplying her with pain medicine and teaching her how pads worked; as she had been unfortunate enough to experience puberty on her own, that Shadow finally gave pause.

"Sometimes kindness is enough." She'd told the spirit.

This gave way to a new form of communication between the two; an open one that involved proper conversation instead of trading insults. Shadow seemed very good at being aware of their -- and by extension Rook's -- surroundings at all times. They'd offer tips, warn of danger, and catch details that would normally go unnoticed.

Rook still wouldn't say the two were friends....part of her was still convinced that Shadow was just some trauma induced hallucination.

Until today at least.

"So lemme see if I've got this right." She said, piling up the driest twigs she could find for a fire. "You're an actual, proper ghost. You're dead."

More or less, yeah.

"Then how come you keep following me around?"

I'm stuck in limbo unless I find a soul to match to....a cracked one.

Rook paused. "So when...." a forced swallow past the lump in her throat. "when he died, you're saying it cracked my soul?"

Yeah.

She huffed. "Can't say I'm surprised. Okay, you're here, I'm here, now what?"

Well.... The spirit sighed. You already know by now that I'm not an optimistic person. But when I was alive I was....less pessimistic. I had hope for something; this place.

"This place?" Rook echoed in surprise.

Yeah. It was less broken in my time, but yeah.

"....What happened?"

Thought I could be the hero. The barrier keeps the monsters in, they're trapped. I thought I could be their angel. the air seemed to scoff Course that was before being down here got me killed.

"What does that have to do with me?"

Shadow had no physical form, and therefore no face, but somehow Rook could still feel the puppy dog stare being aimed at her.

How far do you think your kindness can really go?

*****

Rook didn't bother trying to track down the skeleton brothers. Snowdin was clearly not the sort of place to just go wandering around, and she had no doubt one or both of them would eventually find her.

So, gathering the driest twigs she could find, she sparked a small fire and went about making herself something to eat.

Filling her collapsible pot with snow, she set it over the flame to boil, making sure to keep the smoke as small as possible so as not to alert anything unsavory.

Crossing her legs as she sat down, she held her hands out to warm them. Pausing a moment, she pulled her left one back.

The cut she had received from the strange glowing artifact in the ruins hadn't been deep by any means, but it really ought to have left at least a scratch. But looking at her palm now Rook couldn't even tell she'd been injured.

Sighing to herself, she dug into her backpack for some oatmeal, taking out the teal colored shard as she did. She studied it as her food cooked. It didn't seem all that peculiar; it wasn't even glowing any more. It was just a stupid shard of glass.

So why had she felt so drawn to it in the ruins?

"HUMAN!" the sudden sound jolted Rook from her thoughts. She looked up to see the taller of the skeleton brothers standing a few paces away from her. (measured in his giant steps anyways) "SO SANS WAS TELLING THE TRUTH. DID YOU REALLY THINK YOU COULD ESCAPE ME?"

"No, I was pretty sure you or your brother would turn up." She shrugged. "You hungry? Oatmeal should be ready by now."

The bravado of the skeleton seemed to seep away. "....Food?"

"Yeah. I mean, it's just oatmeal -- I've figured out a lot of ways to mix it up over the years though!" pulling her backpack onto her lap Rook began to dig through her stash. "I've got cinnamon, ketchup, honey...."

For as loud as he had once been, the tall skeleton's voice seemed quiet now, despite it being a normal speaking volume as he inched closer to her. "There Was A Time When I Enjoyed Oatmeal That Hatched Creatures In It."

Rook blinked and stared at him a moment before looking back to her bag. Pushing a few things this way and that, she produced a small box with a cartoon dinosaur on it.

"These?" She questioned, holding them out to him.

Perhaps she imagined it, but at that moment Rook could've sworn that the small pecks of light in his sunken eye sockets turned into miniature stars. He crossed the space between them in three large strides, but stopped short of taking the box from her hand.

He looked between her and the box a moment, prompting Rook to push it closer to his outstretched hand.

"Go ahead, it's all yours."

He finally took it from her like she was handing him the holy grail. "...Why?"

"Why not?" Rook shrugged and went back to her own oatmeal. "If people didn't share with me, I wouldn't be alive." She looked up at the tall skeleton. "My name's Rook, by the way. You're Papyrus right?"

The sound of his name seemed to snap him out of whatever daze he was in. "YES! I AM THE GREAT PAPYRUS! I HAVE DEVISED SEVERAL PUZZLES AND TRAPS TO CAPTURE YOU HUMAN ROOK!"

Rook smiled at him. "I like puzzles, that sounds fun."

*****

There was something laughably insane about watching the two skeleton brothers interact. They explained the puzzle well enough, but then got sidetracked as they started arguing about frisbees.

In a strange way, it comforted Rook to observe the classic siblings dynamic.

Looking away from the still arguing pair, she turned her eyes to the orb she'd been given. It looked like a regular nick-nack, but supposedly it would guide her through the skeleton brother's first puzzle.

Watch yourself. Shadow muttered in her ear. I don't like this.

For the record, neither did she. The expanse of snow between her and the monsters looked far too innocent and unassuming.

Hang on. Was that...?

Something Rook had taken notice of in this strange underground forest was that the snow didn't shine. Not that there was any sunlight to reflect off of the frozen crystals, but whatever was lighting this place didn't do it either. The slush was matte and blank, like dust rather than water.

But was there? There was! Just about two feet in front of her something was sparkling under the snow. Only noticable if you had been looking for it, and clearly not meant to be there.

The sparkling looked odd, and not just because it was out of place. She wondered....

SNAP!

Rook gasped and jumped backwards, falling flat on her butt as her feet slipped from under her. Tossing the orb in the sparkle's direction had indeed yield result; a huge bear trap had popped out from the snow and clamped shut. It's razor teeth were rusty, but certainly effective enough to chop her in half.

The noise had caught the skeleton's attention, both turning to stare at her in shock.

"WOWIE!" Papyrus finally broke the silence. "SHE SOLVED THAT PUZZLE ON THE FIRST TRY! FINALLY, A HUMAN WORTHY OF BEONF MY PRISONER!"

"Wait...how did she know...."

"GASP!" the taller skeleton said, putting his gloved hands on his cheeks. Cheekbones? "ONLY FOUR PUZZLES LEFT! AND STILL WITH THREE FREEBIES! HURRY SANS! WE MUST PREPARE THR NEXT CHALLENGE!" Papyrus took off, dragging his brother behind him by the hood of his jacket.

Rook laughed in spite of everything. Take away the fear for her life, and that was kinda cool.

How did you do that?

"By getting extremely lucky." Rook muttered, rubbing at her neck subconsciously. Kindness or no, Papyrus hadn't seen it to make his 'puzzles' any less deadly.

Not that she blamed him, logically. One act of kindness certainly didn't make up for whatever these two had been through. Statistics didn't follow an outlier after all.

Sha had been like that once, but it hadn't stopped the people she met from being kind to her.

Least she could do was pay it forward while she tried to stay alive.

#undertale imagines #undertale au #undertale #horrortale #horror papyrus #horror sans #horror story

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a-libra-writes · 4 years

Text

SFW Alphabet - Eddison Tollett

this is an edd appreciation blog tyvm. this alphabet was a request!

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

He shows his affection in little ways as you two go about your duties. He'll rest a hand on your back to steady you as you balance a box full of vegetables or fix your cloak when he notices it’s tied improperly. In public, he sits closer to you, enough for you to enjoy his presence and not look suspicious in front of the rest of the Watch.

When you both are alone, Edd just likes to pull you in a loose embrace and give you kisses here and there while you talk. It’s so affectionate and endearing, and you want to tease him so bad, especially since he’s usually so dour during the day. But you leave it alone because you know he’s making up for lost time, and he dislikes being unable to show affection whenever he wants.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

You noticed that for all his complaining, Edd truly pays attention to his friend’s moods and feelings. He could tell you all sorts of things about each member of the Night’s Watch, even the ones he dislikes (maybe especially them) and he has a knack for spotting people’s talents. He figured out you were a girl rather quickly - “for one thing, you’re too pretty and you don’t smell half as bad” - and rather than go spilling your secret, he made a point to protect it. If Edd felt someone was getting too suspicious about your identity, he’d redirect their attention or jape about their poor eyesight. He said you were silly for talking to him so much, but he’d let you keep him company and help him work all the same.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

He gets red in the face when you bring it up, but yes, Edd is definitely a cuddle bug. Even if it’s just casually draping an arm around you while you both chat, he likes being close. When you get a chance to be more intimate, he’d rather you not leave his embrace at all, claiming you’d surely freeze to death if he let go… Well, the warmth is a bonus. If he’s feeling tired, he’ll rest his head against your back or on your shoulder and close his eyes while he listens to you talk.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Edd never thought too hard on “settling down” in his youth, mostly because his family was so poor, he couldn’t imagine a bride wanting to marry into it. Then he joined the Night’s Watch, and he thought of it even less. It just had to be his luck that he happened to find a lovely girl, here of all places, and she was responsible for dragging such thoughts out of him. Sometimes his mind would wander and think about what it would be like if you both weren’t in the Watch and were a “normal” couple, getting married and having a house and whatever other normal things were supposed to happen. They weren’t things to dwell on, because his rational side would take over and insist it didn’t matter, because it didn’t. Still, thinking of you in a wedding dress was a pleasant way to pass the time.

Edd is a fair enough cook, but he’s no better or worse than most of the men on the Wall. At least he knows how to cut vegetables properly now; you gave him an earful for the way he was mutilating a potato and showed him the right way. Hygiene is another matter, since keeping clean on the Wall is a luxury, but he does what he can since being dirty actually bothers him a bit.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

He’d be terrible at such a thing, wondering if he should just avoid the person until they’re sick of him or just be forthcoming and end it bluntly. He’d end up doing the latter, trying to use as little emotion as possible despite feeling horrible and shitty inside.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Putting aside the fact there are no other women on the Night’s Watch (that he knows of; what woman would want to be here anyway?), he is a very committed person in a relationship. It takes him a long time to feel romantic interest anyway, so once he’s with someone, it would take a lot to leave them. Marriage is not an option to him, and it’s not like he was the sort of person to go courting. His family is on the lowest rung of nobility.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

While Edd has a morbid sense of humor and a fine dose of cynicism, he would never intentionally try to hurt your feelings. If anything, he’s always glad to get a smile out of you, especially when he wasn’t even trying to. He’s good about noticing when you might be feeling upset and his usual quips wouldn’t be appreciated, and in those moments he just pulls you close and asks what’s wrong. He’s similarly gentle with the way he holds and kisses you; he just doesn’t like the idea of being too rough.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

As mentioned before, Edd is all about the hugs, grumpy as he is. He loves it when you initiate them, he loves hugging you from behind and pretending to be dead weight when you hug back, he loves it when you’re tired and you start falling asleep in his arms. Because of all the layers of cloaks and wool, you both squeeze harder than normal just to feel extra snuggly, but when you’re in bed his grip isn’t so tight. You can tell when he’s feeling particularly affection deprived because he’ll hold longer than usual and lean on you.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

He felt it so quickly that it embarrassed him, so Edd held off on outwardly saying anything for a while. His actions and affection made it obvious to you, however, and you knew he’d say it back if you told him. It happened when you were snuggled in his arms and peppering him with kisses before he had to patrol the Wall for the night. It was such a damned cute send-off to a duty he wasn’t looking forward to, he just blurted it out.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Edd has never been a jealous sort, and it’s still true at the Wall because only he, Sam and Jon know you’re actually a woman. Even when Jon and Sam blush as you’re being sweet, he trusts all of you (and figures they’re just the sort to be dorks around pretty girls no matter what).

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Edd claims he can’t stand them, what with their sticky fingers and snotty noses. His siblings and cousins were enough, he’d continue, his parents went through enough. But you’d notice whenever very young boys would come to the Wall, looking fearful and out of place, Edd would speak a little kinder and make sure they had warm clothes and some extra food. You’d tease him about it and he'd just shrug. "Just 'cause I don't want some boy's blood freezin' in his veins, doesn't mean I'd be any kinda good father."

On the other hand, he loves watching you interact with the younger recruits. You’re one of the more open and friendly “brothers” to the Night’s Watch, and several of them tend to follow you around and await your orders. Edd calls them your ducklings and says your secret will be found out because they won’t stop flocking to you. He thinks it’s adorable how you’re so proud about their improvement, especially since most of these boys were lucky to have one parent who might have cared. As if the wedding dress daydreams weren’t bad enough, now he’d start thinking about what a great mother you’d be.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

It’s a rare occasion when you can sneak him into your small, cramped room that doubles as the shabby library, but it’s a private little sanctuary you both can share. He’s a light sleeper in general, but he doesn’t mind waking up to you resting against him. He’s pretty sure he’ll never get tired of it, saccharine as that is to admit to himself. For your part, you can help but feel a little flustered as he gives you several light kisses and touches while you dress.

The mornings you aren’t together are the usual ones. He sits besides you in the mess hall and you both chat with the others while nudging each other under the table. Jon always seems to know when it’s happening and gives A Look.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Depending on the duties given to you during the day, and how fast you finish them, sometimes you and Edd are able to steal away after dinner. It can be anywhere from fifteen minutes to a whole hour, but every minute is precious. Of course you may take the chance to be intimate, but often you’re just sitting close and talking, like a normal couple might. As much as Edd claims he isn’t one for conversation, the two of you never struggle for things to talk about.

Nights you spend together are always special, but funnily enough, you spend them trying to be “normal”. You’ll help each other out of your half-dozen layers, wash up, then spend time cuddling and talking and being intimate by the hearth. Sometimes you’ll even joke about the farm that needs tending to in the morning, or what the neighbors have been up to. It’s a nice reprieve from the usual day-to-day of the Wall.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Edd talks about himself a lot, you just need to listen and parse what’s true and what’s him being his usual sardonic self. You noticed for every three things he exaggerates or dismisses, one is true. Asking him directly is fun because he always has to spin it into a rambling story, then finish with some cynical jape. He pretends not to know why you giggle when he’s done.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Life at the Wall has prepared him for a lot of shit, so anger doesn’t come easily to Edd. It’s usually melancholy or defeat first. The closest he gets is exasperation with you and mild annoyance with Sam and Jon.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He remembers quite a lot about you, half because you’re the most important person he’s had in his life, and half is just from his naturally good memory. You forget how good it is because he won’t often bring things up, but then out of nowhere he’ll mention a story you told him months ago. Sometimes Edd recalls things you don’t remember telling him about.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Most people might pick a first kiss or the first night spent together, but Edd is fond of when he found out you were a girl and said it to your face. The way you blushed and tried to deny it was actually adorable - maybe that was the start of his crush. Your friendship also started after that, something he cherishes even now, so he’s actually glad that he didn’t keep quiet and mind his business.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Edd isn’t an overtly protective sort, but you’re aware anytime he redirects someone’s attention away from you when they suspect something, or how he’ll slip you extra food and make sure your clothes are patched. Even if you’re capable of doing these things himself, it gives him peace of mind to know your identity is safe and you're as comfortable as one can be in the Watch. He’s already jokingly thanked you for laying low, because he’d hate to duel for your honor with his shit swordplay.

He’s very appreciative if you do the same little things for him, and he always notices, even if he doesn’t say anything at the moment. The fact you listen to his worries and always have a warm embrace ready drains away much of his fatigue.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

It’s tricky to keep track of such things on the Wall. Edd has mentioned that he’s forgotten his name day several times, and sometimes the days start to run together when you get lost in your duties. So instead of any grand anniversaries, you two like to pay extra attention to the few evenings you get to steal away. You’re able to get some extra ale from the kitchens or he whittles something cute for you, that sort of thing. If you two have even a few minutes of alone time in the day, you don’t waste it.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

He has his nickname for a reason. You notice that Edd can fall into depressive moods and more cynical lines of thought. While he tries to keep the worst of it from you when you’re together, you notice when something isn’t sitting right with him, and he isn’t always eager to tell you.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Edd doesn’t care either way, there’s not too much he can immediately fix, after all. He appreciates your compliments anyway, and he secretly really likes it when you tidy his hair or brush dirt off his cloak.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

His depression would slip into something much worse and more noticeable, even to those who don’t know him well. He wouldn’t be afraid to admit to Jon and Sam that he felt like shit without you. There wouldn’t be tears, just a lot of emptiness and apathy. He’d start to care much less about the value of his life. If something terrible had happened to you and you were gone forever, he’d never discuss you again, even to his friends.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

He loves watching you talk about something you love, even better if you’re telling a story. You’d recall all sorts of things about your childhood mare or mischievous siblings. The best is when you recounted a story, either something your nan told you or from one of the dozens of books you read. Edd wasn’t terribly good with his letters, and there weren’t books available to him as a child, anyway.

Since you were assigned to the library, you spend hours digging through the old shelves to find something interesting to tell him about. You’d even sneak a book or two back to your quarters and read them to Edd once you two were curled up. He wasn’t too eager in learning to read better - listening to you and idly kissing your neck and ears just to trip you up was more fun.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

He has little to no patience for willful ignorance and innocent stupidity in any person, and he’ll avoid them when he can. A more personal peeve is anyone trying to get more emotion out of his calm and dour nature. He just isn’t one to show outward, overwrought feelings.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Edd’s a light and restless sleeper, prone to waking up and not being able to get back to bed. When you’re dozing beside him, he finds it easier to go back to sleep by listening to your breathing and stroking your skin. It takes at least two hours for him to be fully awake. Most people can’t tell the difference between sleepy Edd and normal Edd; you know he’s quieter and more prone to sighing tiredly.

#eddison tollett #dolorous edd #sfw alphabet #game of thrones #eddison tollett x reader #dolorous edd x reader

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athingthatwantsvirginia · 4 years

Text

Oliver Twist and Little Orphan Annie

PART TWENTY OF THE DO YOU SEE HER FACE? SERIES

Pairing: Jess Mariano x Original Character (Ella Stevens)

Warnings: discussions of physical/emotional abuse, anxiety about future, serious angst, plentiful pop culture references

Word Count: 5.8K

Summary: As graduation approaches, Ella and Jess paint a room, and attend a party.

“How have you never painted a room before?” Ella asked, tiling her head at Jess as she guided his hand, armed with a roller, up and down.

A creamy white streaked the wall in stark contrast with the old color, giving off pungent fumes. Her one window was opened all the way, letting in the late May air. Rain poured on Stars Hollow, a thunderstorm which brought humidity and lightning. The sky had faded to a dark greenish-gray, a dull bruise. But Ella felt her spirits lifted high. Lorelai had paint leftover from redoing the Independence Inn following the fire, and she’d given it all to Ella. Sometimes, she didn’t know what she would do without the Gilmore matriarch. If she had to stay in her room during college, the least she could do was have a new mural. Three of the walls would be soft eggshell, while she had yet to decide the exact design of the one behind her bed. She had a lot of purple to use, and was thinking something floral. But the base coat was all they needed for the day.

Jess had volunteered rather than been recruited, but it quickly became clear to Ella that he had no idea what he was doing. His first few strokes were patchy at best, textured at worst. She was thankful Luke hadn’t gotten a new apartment back when they were thinking of moving. The plan then had been to have Jess paint it. Ella could only imagine the quarrels which would have ensued. As she guided Jess’s hand, she maneuvered around the mattress in the center of the room, piled high with almost all her belongings and surrounded by layers of plastic to protect the carpet.

“We can’t all be Michelangelo,” he quipped, frustrated with his clear incompetence. In theory, painting a room evenly wasn’t hard. But, a perpetual renter, he had zero experience. Theory was proving much different than practice.

Ella snorted a laugh. “Jess, it’s not the Sistine Chapel. You’re painting one wall with one color.”

“Easy for you to say. You paint all the time.”

She rolled her eyes. “You didn’t have to help. Just don’t apply too much pressure. We’ll have to do a few coats, but that’s the only way to make it look good.”

“I’ll do my best,” Jess grumbled as she stepped away from him, going to her own paint tray and prepping her roller for the wall next to his.

“I know you will, James Dean,” Ella said, more sincerely than he was expecting.

Smiling a tiny smile, Jess glanced over his shoulder at her. Her hair, held away from her face in a black bandana, fell down her back. The old Pixies t-shirt she wore rose up as she reached high on her tiptoes, exposing the dimples in her back, above the waistband of her worn jeans. His stomach buzzed with pleasant butterflies as he turned back to the wall.

“You write your speech yet?” Jess asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

Groaning playfully, Ella shook her head more to herself than to Jess. “No. Not quite ready to pretend to have some inspiring message about the last four years. Also, I’m pretty sure my speech is going to be the last one. I’ll have to follow whatever those student government kids have to say.”

“Well, graduation is still three weeks away. You’ve got some time, Miss Valedictorian,” he said.

“One of four valedictorians,” she reminded him, her tone dismissive. “With the lowest GPA of all four.”

“How many times, Eleanor? It’s still a huge deal.”

“Yeah, whatever,” she said, breathing a soft sigh.

Before Jess could speak again, a quiet knock sounded on the door. Ella’s father didn’t wait to be invited in before he opened the door. Both of them turned and Jess could almost see Ella’s body turn rigid. Jess bit his lip again and put his paint roller down in his tray as Jake Stevens began to speak.

“Hey, Ellie, how’s it going in here?” Jake asked.

“Fine,” Ella shrugged, gazing around the room. “Should be done by tomorrow or day after next.”

Jake nodded. “Good. Don’t want the house smelling like this forever.”

“Right,” she said. “I just figured...white will be a better color for a guest room when I move out, and with the pink gone only one wall will need painting by then.”

“But that won’t be for a while, right?” Jake said, eyebrows raised.

There was almost a warning tone in his voice, Jess thought. In the interactions he’d seen between Ella and her father, it was never blatant. Jake never said anything overtly cruel or malicious, but it was in the way he said things. Like he knew there was nothing his daughter could do to get out from under his thumb. Like he could forever bind her to the role her mother used to fill, the chores and the emotional labor, while still ignoring her as if she didn’t live in the room right next to his. It was such an odd dichotomy.

Jess could definitely understand having a parent who was often neglectful, but there was a strange, controlling element to Jake’s behavior which Jess had never experienced himself. Many of Liz’s boyfriends (and sometimes fiancés, and sometimes husbands) were addicts with less than friendly personalities. But they were never around long enough to establish true manipulation of him. Instead, Jess would fight with them (more often than not, to protect Liz) until they got fed up and left. Then, Liz would blame him for driving the guy away and the cycle would begin again. The last time he’d gotten into a scrap with one of her men, punches had been thrown. Jess had even landed a few himself, but his fighting back proved to be the final straw for Liz. Instead of watching the man walk away from her, she’d sent Jess to Luke. But, of course, she’d moved onto the next one by the time Jess returned to New York following the accident with Rory’s car.

Those men, their main weapon was fear. But Ella’s father wielded guilt instead. He used his words, how he said them, and small actions disguised as discipline, instead of his fists. He loomed over his daughter coldly. She didn’t often talk about it, but Jess knew Ella’s father had slapped her at least once as a child, for talking back to him at the dinner table. She’d made the comment off-handedly, as though it was nothing. As though all parents kept their kids in line using such methods. And she claimed her father hadn’t touched her in anger since, that things were getting better between them, that her father had a hard childhood of his own and he had learned to parent in an abusive environment. But touch wasn’t always the vehicle for household violence. A family could have some kind of love without it being a healthy kind of love. It wasn’t dramatic, he didn’t witness any blow-outs. And though Jake always had a beer in hand when he was home, Ella only shook her head when Jess brought it up, told him her father never got blackout drunk anymore. Not since Fiona came around. But the subtle, warning tone was always there. And Jess could see shades of it every time Jake and Ella spoke to each other.

“Yeah,” Ella said, offering a weak smile. “Not for a while. But I’ll be thanking myself in four years.”

“Smart,” Jake agreed, nodding. Then, he turned to Jess: “And how are you, young man? No college plans I hear?”

“No,” Jess said, shaking his head. “Personally, I think I’m better equipped for trades.”

Again, Jake nodded slowly, keeping his eyes on Jess. “I suppose only time will tell, won’t it?”

“Yes. Yes, it will,” Jess said shortly.

Jake smiled thinly. “Well, I can’t wait to see the room when it’s done. As you were, kids.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Ella said, picking her roller back up as her father shut the door behind him.

Swallowing dryly, she took a second to listen to the rain outside. She flexed her free hand once and then got back to work, humming a Fleetwood Mac song under her breath. Jess watched, hesitant to say a word. Slowly, he began to paint again, rollers squeaking quietly against the walls.

“I hate it when he calls me ‘young man,’” he said, trying to keep his tone light.

She scoffed. “Wow, I’m shocked.”

“Yes, I’m very unpredictable,” he quipped. “There you go, type-casting me again.”

“Hey, I can’t help it if you’re James Dean back from the dead,” she teased, smirking over at him. “Speaking of which, are you too cool for the party next weekend, or are you gonna come watch Lane play with me?”

Running his free hand over his mouth, Jess locked eyes with her, looking over his shoulder again. “Depends. Are we gonna go make fun of everything like we’re gonna do at prom?”

Ella nodded. “Everything except the music. You can come be a Grinch with me, just like at the diner on Christmas.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“And you don’t get to complain about my driving at prom. It’ll be a station wagon instead of a limo, since your rust bucket is gone,” Ella reminded him. Three weeks prior, Jess had walked out of the diner one morning and found his car gone. He had heard no leads about it since.

He sighed through his nose. “Whatever you say, soccer mom. I’ll get the tickets this week.”

“Okay, but I’m paying you back for mine.”

“If you insist,” he shrugged.

“I do.”

His eyes lingered on her a moment longer as she reached high on the wall. Sidestepping his painting tray, he brought a gentle hand to the small of her back and pressed a kiss to her cheek. Scrunching up her nose, she chuckled and told him not to distract her. And he went back to work laughing.

. . .

Though there were rips in her fishnets, Ella felt an added, confident skip to her step as she passed town square. The Spring Fling festival banner was still hung over the gazebo, though it had ended with a parade the night before. Bunches of flowers still lined the streets, beginning to wilt in the heat of May. In the back of her mind, she worried vaguely about her dark eye makeup melting off in the sunshine. Her Doc Martens squeaked on the tile floor of Luke’s as she waltzed in, breathing a small sigh at the gust of cool air conditioning. She smoothed down her black floral dress, blowing loose strands of hair, which had fallen from her half-up, half-down look, away from her freckled cheeks.

Only a few customers peppered the red tables, and no one occupied the counter. Luke scribbled on his pad as he stood behind the ancient register, preparing to close.

“Hey, Luke,” she called, smiling slightly at him.

He mumbled a greeting to her, not glancing up. Ella scoffed out a laugh at his disinterest, and didn’t bother asking if it was alright before going behind the curtain and trudging up the stairs. He’d been acting off lately, and though she wondered if it was something to do with his lawyer lady friend, she knew better than to ask. She’d spent the afternoon before visiting Julie in New Britain, and he seemed to have cooled off at least a little since she’d last seen him. Granted, it had been a Thursday, inventory day. One could always expect a fair amount of open hostility from Luke on inventory day. Ella could hear the sound of the Sex Pistols before she even neared the apartment door. Only knocking twice, and assuming she wouldn’t be heard over the music anyway, she stepped into the apartment. Jess sat up in his bed, reading Dead Souls, brows furrowed in concentration in spite of the noise.

Smirking, she came over and turned down the music to half volume. He only looked up to see her as Johnny Rotten got quieter, and blinked in surprise at her. She set her bag shoulder bag down on the worn wooden floor and sat at the end of the bed, legs hanging off the side.

“Hey, James Dean,” she said. “More light reading?”

He shrugged. “Seems that way.”

Clicking her tongue, she shook her head to herself. “I can just never stomach the Russians.”

Finally, one corner of his mouth quirked slightly upward. “So unrefined.”

She shrugged. “Maybe someday you’ll convert me.”

“Someday.” Jess put his book on the nightstand and ran a hand over his mouth. “You look ready to rock and roll all night and party every day.”

Rolling her eyes, Ella ignored the (millionth) KISS joke and cast her eyes down to her outfit once more. “Thanks. I was going for sort of a Winona Ryder thing.”

“Aren’t you always?”

“That I am,” she smiled, standing from the bed and holding a hand out to him. “We gotta go if we want to see the full set.”

Sighing through his nose, he grabbed her hand to pull himself up and nodded.

“Oh, and I finished my speech today,” she said as she watched him go over to the dresser to change out of the shirt he’d worn on shift and into his Metallica tee.

“Huh.”

“If you wanna read it before graduation, I can give you inside access,” she teased. “Or you can be surprised at the actual ceremony.”

“As long as it doesn’t mention me,” he muttered as he changed and checked his hair in the mirror.

She snorted a laugh. “Don’t flatter yourself, Mariano.”

Watching his reflection in the mirror, she saw a half hearted smirk cross his face. It didn’t reach his eyes. He ran a hand over his mouth again as he appraised his reflection, and Ella’s brows furrowed in concern.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

He turned back to her and gave an unconvincing nod. “Fine.”

“Really? We don’t have to go if you’re not okay, y’know. I mean, I want to see Lane play, but in general I think parties are meaningless excuses for teenage debauchery.”

Jess didn’t look back at her when he spoke, turning off his music and going over by the door to grab his shoes. “We’re going. I know how much you wanna see Lane.”

Biting the inside of her cheek, she noticed the storms brewing in his brown eyes. His face was slightly pale. He looked exhausted. When he straightened up, shoes on, she went over and put her hand to his cheek.

“Do you feel sick?” she asked, feeling him lean into her touch though he wasn’t feverish. “You were fine Thursday night, but you closed alone. Did you get to sleep afterwards? I know sometimes if you work too late you can’t get to sleep-“

“Eleanor,” he cut her off, his voice tired, “I’m fine. Let’s just go. Please.”

Raising at a hesitant brow at the shortness of his tone, she bit her tongue and nodded slowly. He certainly didn’t seem fine, but they would be late if they waited much longer. And Lane was counting on her being there. Jess grabbed her hand and led her out of the apartment. And when he felt her give his hand a reassuring squeeze, he had to swallow down the myriad of emotions which rose in his throat.

. . .

Lane’s band, which still had yet to earn a name, got through the first set with little to no bumps in the road. The living room was stuffy, a suburban wet dream filled to the brim with drunk students. An ever-present smile shone on Ella’s face as she watched her friend banging it out on the drums, despite how much she disliked the stickiness of the atmosphere. She knew how much Lane had always wanted this, her own band, her own instrument. As they finished up with their first thirty minutes, having announced an intermission, Dave Rygalski walked by her, Jess, and Rory with a nod. Ella was glad Jess and Dave had been getting along so well. If Jess was going to stay in Stars Hollow for the foreseeable future, he had to have some other friends besides her and Rory. As soon as Lane hopped up from her drums, she came squealing over to the three of them in excitement, engulfing Rory in a hug. However, before she had too much of a chance to babble about the set, Dave whisked her away for a private conversation.

Rory smiled over at Jess and Ella weakly when she saw Dean nearing their vicinity with his new girlfriend, Lindsey, and quickly retreated to another room. Ella leaned back against Jess, who stood behind her, near the pristine couch, with his arms wrapped around her waist. She could feel his breathing against her back, smell his pine scent. And she thought for the first time in a very long time that the future might not just be survivable, but bright. Soon, she would be a high school graduate, be (tentatively) majoring in history, which had been her second-best subject in public school, still working at the diner. It wasn’t what her wildest dreams called for, but it certainly wasn’t bleak.

Jess’s breath was hot on her neck as he spoke into her ear, which was still buzzing from the loud music and the crowd. “You wanna go?”

She shook her head against his chest. “I think we should stay for the second set. And I haven’t even gotten a chance to talk to Lane yet. She’ll probably need my sage wisdom after whatever she and Dave are talking about.”

“Elle, I don’t-”

Before he could finish, he saw Dean and Lindsey heading directly for them. Ella could feel Jess’s muscles instantly tense, his hands tightening around her own, his face stony. She knew how the feud started, with Dean trying to pull Jess away from a fight when Jess first came to town. But, then again, she had once gotten him off of Peter Smith. Only then, he didn’t take a swing at her like he had at Dean. If Jess hadn’t changed so much since then, and Dean hadn’t been such an asshole to Rory, she probably would’ve been on Dean’s side. But in the few times she’d heard Jess and Dean speak, she knew there was fault on both sides. And she was inclined to align with one of her best friends and her boyfriend before some possessive dick from Chicago.

“Hey, guys,” Dean began, his hand in Lindsey’s grasp as they ambled over. “Have you seen Rory?”

Ella actually liked Lindsey. They’d been acquaintances in high school (though in a class of only about seventy kids, one was usually acquaintances with everyone else), and had always thought her very sweet. And she could rock the bleach blonde look like no one else in their grade. It was certainly a style choice Ella could admire.

Ella shrugged. “She’s around here somewhere. Why?”

“Just thought I’d say hello,” Dean replied, eyes searching the room for his ex-girlfriend, while his new girlfriend stood at his side.

“How sweet of you,” Jess said, venom in his voice.

Ella cleared her throat and pivoted the conversation before Dean could shoot anything back. “Yeah, anyway, you guys like the band?”

“Oh, they were great. I can’t say I recognized a lot of the songs, though,” Lindsey smiled, her voice light.

Nodding, Ella attempted a generous smile back. “Don’t feel bad. Lane knows every song in the English language. And some in pretty much every other language, too. There are bound to be some deep cuts in their repertoire, if she has any say in the set lists.”

Lindsey chuckled.

“So, Ella, I heard you’re going to Southern Connecticut State?” Dean asked, continuing the small talk despite the thick tension in the air.

Still, Ella forced a plastic smile on her face. She knew Rory wouldn’t want her causing any trouble, as the heartbreak was still so fresh. And she’d been able to master her people-pleasing artificiality after her years of serving Taylor at the diner.

“Yeah. Managed to score a spot.”

“Me too,” Dean said. “What are you going for?”

“History.”

“Oh, cool. I’m thinking maybe business, but I’m not entirely sure yet.” Dean had at some point focused his attention away from Ella and onto Jess, who still had his arms wrapped around Ella, watching the awkwardness silently. He just wanted whatever small town, false polite nonsense which was necessary to be over. “What about you, Jess?”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re not going to college or anything, right? Seems like you’re not going to school at all anymore, anyway.” Dean narrowed his eyes at Jess, and a momentary staring contest ensued.

Disentangling himself from Ella, Jess decided not to humor Dean’s attempt to rile him. “I’m gonna go check out the state of that bathroom line,” he muttered to Ella before trudging off.

Brows furrowing in concern, Ella's eyes lingered on him as he went, until he turned a corner and she lost sight of him. Huffing out an angry breath, she turned back to Lindsey, and Dean, who had a pleased expression on his face. Shaking her head, mostly to herself, she excused herself to go find Lane, maneuvering through the sweaty bodies and drunken mumbles.

. . .

Balmy air and crickets, Ella finally found Jess again out on the back porch. Most people were inside, gearing up for the band’s second set. She’d had to spend a pretty long time pulling a drunken Lane off the phone to her mother, aided by a still-shaken Rory. The evening seemed to have come to a screeching halt in the hour since the first set, and Ella was debating grabbing Jess’s hand and dragging him out. It was doubtful Lane would be conscious enough to make it through a song, let alone a second set. When Ella didn’t see his gelled black curls in the living room sea of teenage heads, she knew right where Jess would be. The night was pleasant, not quite too warm or humid, despite it being late May.

He stood with his forearms leaned against the railing, facing the lush green backyard, and he didn’t even look back when he heard her open and close the screen door. Ambling up next to him, her boots felt heavy on her feet. The air was cool on her hot skin, and the spring breeze blew her hair from her face. Arms against the polished wooden rail, mirroring him, she waited a few moments before finally speaking in a soft tone. She tilted her head to the red solo cup Jess held in his hands.

“Penny for a sip?” she asked.

Jess smirked. Saying nothing, he held the cup out to her. Taking a gulp of his slightly warm beer, she grimaced and then handed it back to him.

“Thank you, good sir.”

“Who are you? Oliver Twist?”

She shrugged, noncommittal. “Or Little Orphan Annie. Can’t keep my broadway straight. You could probably help me out.”

“Very funny, Stevens,” he said, a ghost of a smile on his face. But it didn’t meet his eyes. They lacked their usual sardonic sparkle, even in the glowing moonlight.

Leaning into his shoulder, Ella took in another deep breath of the fresh air. “What are you doing out here, James Dean? Did you not bring your sulking book?”

“Just couldn’t handle it inside.” He took another swig of his drink, emptying the cup, and set it carefully on the railing next to him.

“Was it Dean?” Ella asked, placing a hand on the back of his neck and running her fingers through the ends of his hair.

Jess glanced down at the ground with a bitter chuckle. “You think I actually care about Frankenstein’s monster in there?”

She scoffed knowingly. “Okay, fair enough. We can go soon, if you want. Lane’s wasted and Rory’s all messed up about Dean being here. And, I think I forgot to feed the cat? I have no idea why I let him stay in our house. He showed up right after my mom died, and kept hanging around our porch. He was already so old and he was so skinny. So I started letting him in when it got colder. My dad barely even noticed. I thought he’d be grateful, but now he hates us. Guess there was a lot of yelling and crying going on when he first came to live with us. But I suppose misery loves company-”

“I just…” Jess began, cutting off her rambling voice. He knew she was still waiting for an answer, but didn’t want to ask him another question. “You work your ass off for four years, and Dean still gets into the same college as you.”

Ella shrugged. “I don’t mind. There’s lots of people there. I probably won’t ever see him.”

“At least he’s finishing high school,” Jess muttered, shaking his head to himself and looking down at his hands, clenching and unclenching them in fists.

Brows furrowed, Ella’s hand fell from his skin and she tilted her head in askance. “What do you mean?”

He heaved a big sigh, looking out into the woods beyond the yard. Somewhere through the trees, he thought he could see the shine of the lake. An ache tugged at his heart, and his stomach did a flip before he spoke again.

“I went to get prom tickets when you were in the art room at lunch today. But then I got called to the principal’s office. He said I missed too many days.”

“And?”

Chewing on his bottom lip, he shook his head again. “Don’t make me say it, Elle.”

Pursing her lips, she brought her hands to her hips and nodded. “Guess you’ll need my speech in advance, then.”

“Guess so,” he echoed flatly, finally stealing a glance at her to gauge her reaction. With her strong stance, he could practically see the gears moving inside her head. There was a crease of concentration between her eyebrows, and she began biting at her nails absently.

“And you haven’t told Luke yet?” she asked.

“Nope.”

Again, she nodded, more decisive this time. “Okay...okay. I wish you could stay with me, but my dad will have you dead inside a day. I bet if you take twelfth grade over Luke’ll let you stay. I mean, I know he tries to act all tough, but I don’t know who he thinks he’s kidding.”

Jess straightened up again, running a hand over his mouth. He turned to face her. “I’m not going back to school. I can’t.”

“Of course you can, Jess. World bites you, you bite back.”

“Fine, then. I won’t.”

“Why not? Where are you gonna go?”

He could only shrug in response, looking back down at his shoes. Sometimes her gaze was so intense, even he couldn’t handle it. Usually, though, it was because of butterflies in his stomach, not because his heart was pounding nervously in his ears.

Swallowing dryly, she tried to maintain a calm facade. “No, Jess. You can’t do that Kerouac bullshit right now. You need a plan. I mean…” she paused to sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose. “You told me you had it under control. You told me all I had to do was trust you.”

Closing his eyes for a moment, he composed himself and then wiped all emotion from his face when he looked back up at her. “I thought I did. I didn’t know how many days I missed, alright? But who cares! I never learned anything there anyway! It was a waste of my time!”

“And driving that forklift at Walmart forever isn’t a waste of your time?” she retorted, beginning to raise her voice. “If it made you happy, I’d say go for it. But it doesn’t! You’re too fucking smart for your own good, Mariano! You’re meant to be a writer! And you’re gonna settle on wasting your brain just because you were too proud to repeat senior year?!”

“Don’t talk to me about settling!” he countered, shaking his head.

“Fuck you, Jess,” she said, eyes narrowing as more blood rushed to her face, turning her skin scarlet with frustration. “Not everyone can just go wherever they want! Live wherever they want! I have people I actually care about!”

Rubbing at his mouth again, he sighed. “Yeah, well, lucky you! My mother is a wackjob who shipped me off because her boyfriend of the week didn’t like me! And my father is a fucking loser who couldn’t say more than two words when he finally met me!”

Ella took a step back in surprise. “What are you talking about?”

Jess breathed another exhausted sigh. “On Thursday, after you left. While I was closing. My dad came in, saw me for the first time in eighteen years. He told me who he was, took a good long look at me, and then ran right back out of the diner!”

There was a seismic shift in her face, eyes softening, color draining. Shaking her head, she went to touch his shoulder. “Oh my god, Jess. I didn’t-”

He shrugged off her hand. “Yeah, you didn’t know. Because I didn’t tell you. Because I’m just your deadbeat, high school dropout boyfriend who’s gonna work at Walmart for the rest of his life! How disappointing!”

“That’s not what I said!” she exclaimed, swallowing back the sting of tears in her eyes.

“Yeah, well, I can read between the lines pretty well at this point, honey,” he shot back, with a vicious, contemptuous tone.

Biting the inside of her cheek, she tried to remain calm. She tried to remember Jess had just failed senior year and met his dad for the first time in a span of two days. But, as always, the fire in her stomach won. It was something about the way he looked at her. So cold. Like he felt nothing for her at all. Her heart dropped and she began to back away, towards the screen door.

“Fine. Fuck it! Go and find yourself. While I stay here, and think about what a fucking mistake it was to trust you when we said no cop-outs! Serves me right. Holden fucking Caulfield!” she shouted, slamming the sliding door behind her.

Raking a hand through his messy hair, Jess took no more than one moment of hesitation before rushing after her. It was crowded inside, people standing around waiting for a second set which would likely never be played. After a little frantic searching and weaving through smelly bodies, he found her. She was marching up the stairs to find Rory, who stood looking exceedingly uncomfortable speaking with Dean and Lindsey on the landing. Ella tugged on Rory’s sleeve, muttering something about finding Lane and leaving the drums to pick up later. A scowl crossed her face the moment she looked back to see Jess.

“Did he do something, Ella?” Dean piped up, towering over her and casting an authoritative glance at Jess.

Ella snorted a laugh and shook her head. “You can stand down, Dean. He did nothing. Nothing at all. Fuck off, alright, Mariano?”

Catching the finitive, vitriolic tone in Ella’s voice, Jess shook his head back at her. Apparently she had decided the conversation was over. “Right back at ya, then, Stevens.”

But as he went to leave, Dean kicked into action. Before Ella, Rory, or Lindsey, could grab him and pull him back, he went into full testosterone rage and lunged after Jess, turning him about and clocking him square across the face. Ella watched in horror, and immediately went after them. Confusion painted her face. She heard Dean muttering under his breath as he fought, about what an asshole Jess was, about how Rory’s friends were his responsibility too, and they shouldn’t be spoken to that way. About how it was time Jess got a taste of his own medicine, making him feel like an idiot in class and acting like he was too good for Stars Hollow. She’d never had any classes with Dean and Jess, but the altercation made her wonder how deeply the feud ran. Apparently, much deeper than she ever thought. If not for the urgency of the situation, Ella would have rolled her eyes harder than she had prior known was humanly possible. She couldn’t help but wonder what at all Rory or Lindsey saw in that sexist prick. In Ella’s opinion, the Donna Reed Show incident two years earlier should’ve been the end of the relationship.

All around the house, they fought, various others trying to pull them off of each other. Each time Ella thought she had an opening to grab Dean or Jess around the waist, they moved, jostling around. It was far more intense than the quarrel in the schoolyard had been. No, tonight there would be blood drawn. Finally, after a decent amount of carnage to the mid-century Connecticut two-story, someone managed to throw the two of them out onto the front lawn, still at each other’s throats. Ella yelled endlessly for them to stop, but neither listened. Only the sound of the police sirens approaching, red and blue lights flashing on the manicured grass, finally made them separate, a few boys at the party also aiding the effort.

Just as Ella started rushing over to Jess, Lane began vomiting up the shitty keg beer she’d gulped down all night long into the trimmed bushes. Rory was by her side, but ultimately Ella cast only a sympathetic glance their way before continuing after Jess. She caught up with him a few paces down the sidewalk, grabbing the sleeve of his t-shirt to finally stop him.

“Jess, Jesus, are you okay?” she demanded, trying to get a substantial glimpse at his face.

Once again, he shook off her touch. He turned back to her in the light of the sheriff’s car, eyes darker than she had ever seen them. “Get outta here, Eleanor! I don’t need your help!”

“But, your-”

“Stop, Elle, just stop!” he interrupted, gesturing with his arms and practically bursting with anger. “Stop chasing after me! Stop trying to help me! That’s over! I don’t need it, alright? You can just fucking stop!”

Clutching at her necklace, she felt a heavy weight settle in her stomach, gluing her to the spot where she stood, hazel eyes impossibly wide. Watching him go, watching him disappear around a corner, watching him walk away. And the worst part was how unsurprised she felt. Had it always been this way? Him ready to leave at a moment’s notice, and her stuck in her old, familiar ways? Were they bound to end the moment they began? She should have seen it sooner. Suddenly, the sounds of the siren and the singing of late spring crickets overwhelmed her ears, and she could do nothing but stand motionless, feeling a sharp crack in her heart.

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