#so there might be a part two to this????
Note
omg I need to hear your thoughts on teachers!Javey because that makes my brain go BRRRRRRR
OKAY OKAY OKAY SO. I can already tell this is going to be long winded so. apologies.
To understand why Teachers!Javey has a grip on my two brain cells like a dog has on his chew toy, we must first understand the types of students they are.
---
Jack Kelly is never really the stereotypical "good" student. He's a ward of the state, probably has some sort of undiagnosed learning disability that all his teachers attributed to him being a poor student with lousy attendance. Reading and writing is difficult for him from an early age, and he's okay with math until they introduce fucking word problems--what is that about? Why are they putting reading in math?
Every teacher from first to fifth grade he has can see that when Jack speaks to his peers, he's intelligent. He's a natural born leader and trend setter amongst the students. It's such a shame he's wasting his potential. It's such a shame that he never finishes his exams on time, and chooses to waste time doodling in the margins instead. It's such a shame he's only ever at school half the time, the other half out and about doing God knows what.
It's such a shame that every single teacher he had for the first eleven years of his life just assumed his failure was a deliberate choice.
But he finds solace in arts and craft time in elementary, and then is delighted to find out he can have art class every single day, for an entire period in middle school.
Teachers get meaner in middle school. Jack's smart mouth gets smarter--or dumber, according to his seventh grade History teacher, who loudly announces that Jack has the lowest grade out of everyone in his class. Jack stops showing up to History after that, but manages to scrape by with a C by convincing this girl, Katherine, to do his work for him, and he'll finish her art project she needs to get her Fine Arts credit.
(They date for a while and ofc decide they're better off as friends)
He meets Miss Medda his freshman year of high school, because the counselors screwed up his schedule and put him in Theatre instead of Art for his elective class. He needs remedial English Language Arts and Reading classes, both of which are during the only Art classes his stupid school offers. But Miss Medda is kind, treats him with respect, and after Jack accidentally leaves his sketchbook behind, offers to let him do backdrops for her plays instead of having to act in them.
Jack really can't afford to make time for this kind of long-term project--he's got to walk his little brothers (who aren't... legally his brothers, but... it's easier to just call them his brothers) home from their school, and then helps them with their homework best he can because he's not going to let them struggle the way he does and Tony is starting to get in fights, which is really, really stressing Charlie out and--
Miss Medda offers to let them stay in the theatre while the younger kids work on their schoolwork and Jack on his paintings.
It's an excuse to stay away from the Refuge an hour longer. It's an offer Jack can't refuse.
It's Miss Medda who first suggests to Jack he might be dyslexic. Jack's never even heard that word before, but it sparks a light of hope in him. He's not stupid. He's just--wired differently.
A diagnosis is not easy to come by. Jack has no legal guardians who can request testing from the school on his behalf, and Mr. Snyder sure as hell isn't going to shell out the money to do it third party. Miss Medda says she's doing it to streamline the testing, but when Snyder calls him in to say she's requested to foster him, Race, and Charlie, it takes every ounce of Jack's willpower not to cry right then and there.
School was never easy for Jack, and it still isn't, but it's amazing how much easier it becomes when he's got something that resembles a home. A soft bed, with clean sheets. A diagnosis. A family.
College is a possibility. It becomes a reality when Medda helps him submit his application to NYU.
Even though he's an art major, he's got to take basics. A computer that can read his assignments to him helps get him through with flying colors.
Medda assures him he doesn't have to do this for her. He's not. He's doing it for the fourteen year old Jack who needed a teacher like Miss Medda--and now, one like him.
---
David Jacobs is the stereotypical "good" student. Math, Science, History--it all comes incredibly easy to him from a young age. But especially Reading and Writing.
He finishes assignments early for the sole purpose of having more free time in class that he uses to read. Six years in a row, he's the top reader in his entire district, even beating out kids in high school starting from the seventh grade.
Students adore him, teachers love him, and his parents are proud as they could be.
Most kids are impressed. Some think he's doing it to show off, but he does it because there's nothing else he'd rather be doing. No amount of parties or dances can measure up to the way the ending to Of Mice and Men broke his heart, or the way Jodi Picoult's Leaving Time put it back together.
He loves analyzing the worlds he's being sucked into, highlighting passages that make him feel a certain type of way, and analyzing them to understand what makes them so powerful. He loves the power authors give their readers--to escape this world, to find meaning in theirs.
When he gets accepted to Colombia, it just makes sense for him to be an English major.
And he loves every second of it.
He loves writing papers and sticking to the most outlandish interpretations of Kafka, joining the campus newspaper club--even all the terrible peer reviews he has to do. He adores it all.
And then he graduates.
Magna Cum Laude, of course.
And David's not really sure what to do.
And a few months of crashing on friends' couches until he can get something published turns into a year turns into eighteen months turns into "Don't sweat it, you'll find something," and "Hey, I know a guy at The World who'd love to have you write columns," and if one more person tells him about the twelve publishers who rejected Harry Potter, he is going to pop a vein.
And then he's working for a Tax Attorney's office as a secretary and he hates every stupid minute of it, but it pays the bills for about a year before the office downsizes due to an actual fucking pandemic and decides he's the first to go.
He crashes with Sarah until quarantine is over. Then he spends another year working odds-and-ends jobs to help her with rent because he is not a freeloader with an English degree, for fuck's sake.
Sarah sends him a listing for a teaching position at a district in Brooklyn. Alternative Certification paid for by the campus. Eleventh Grade English.
It's a steady income, and he has an entire year to get his teaching certificate.
David applies for the position, not expecting to even really be considered, but in this teacher shortage--all the school is looking for, really, is a warm body.
David accepts the job.
He's always been good at school.
---
There's a weird, lanky looking guy who comes into Jack's class unannounced, accompanied by the academic dean, who informs Jack (with absolutely no heads up) that Mr. Jacobs is their newest English teacher and needs three more hours of live Observations before he's allowed to begin his classes.
Jack is less than thrilled at being observed for the last half of the day, but Mr. Jacobs smiles awkwardly and waves and that’s the end of that. Jack is instantly endeared by this guy who is way in over his head.
The academic Dean leaves, and Mr. Jacobs retrieves a binder and notebook from his messenger bag. As Jack resumes his lesson, the newest teacher takes fastidious notes throughout.
Jack has to actively try not to smile when one of his students goes to Mr. Jacobs for help with a guided practice warm up sketch. Mr. Jacobs seems surprised, but easily answers the questions best he can.
At least this new guy seems to care.
---
At the end of the day, David gathers his things into his bag and heads towards Mr. Kelly, extending his hand. “Thanks so much for this, Mr. Kelly. I really appreciate it.”
“Call me Jack.” He takes David’s hand.
“David.”
“Nice to meet you, Davey.” David’s stomach does a funny little flip at the nickname. It rolls off of Jack’s tongue so casually, so easily, that David doesn’t even feel the need to correct him. “If ya have any other questions, lemme know.”
David digs a pen out of his front pocket and extends it to Jack. “No questions, but could I get your signature on my observations sheet?”
“‘Course.”
The pen passes between their hands and with it, a bolt of electricity David wonders if he’s imagining, but hopes he isn’t.
He is not ogling the muscles of Jack’s hands as they sign the papers, and he’s definitely not noticing the way Jack’s smock hugs his waist where it’s tied behind his back, or the way his rolled up sleeves seem to broaden his shoulders.
“I noticed you have pictures detailing the steps on each of your assignment packets,” David says, redirecting his train of thought towards something work-appropriate.
“Reading ain’t so easy for all kids.”
Jack says it like it’s the simplest explanation in the world, with a shrug and an inherent understanding of this demographic that David lacks.
He hands the pen back to David, along with the paperwork, now donning his signature is messy script letters.
“Thanks.”
“No problem. I’m down the hall.” David has never been particularly boy crazy, but even he is not immune to the charms of Jack’s radiant smile. “If you ever need anything, Davey.”
It’s an offer for mentorship, not a marriage proposal. And still, color rises to David’s cheeks, despite his best efforts to remain cool.
“I’ll uh, see you around.” The words come out high and strangled in his throat, eliciting the widening of Jack’s already knee-weakening, cocky, shit eating grin, but David still hopes there’s truth to them.
It’s clear he has a lot to learn from Jack.
---
Jack pops in to Davey’s room once during his own lunch, and is delighted to find out Pulitzer High’s newest addition has the same period off.
The rest, as they say, is history.
Davey is smart as a whip, he’s passionate, he’s organized (which comes in handy on a Teacher Work Day. Davey spends some time helping Jack organize supplies, and Jack hangs up art and decorations he’d made for Davey’s room).
He finds out that teaching wasn’t always in the plan for Davey, it was just something he sort of fell into. And still, Jack can see the effort he puts into his lesson plans, the quick way he’s learning the ropes and never makes the same mistake twice.
Jack knows teachers who’ve been doing this for years, and don’t have the dedication to self-improvement that Davey has.
And not that Jack is into the habit of checking out his coworkers, but Davey sure as hell ain’t ugly.
He's got a smile that makes you feel like a winner, if you've earned one from him, and he's surprisingly strong (as Jack found out on the aforementioned Teacher Work Day, his mind sputtering and stalling like a dying car when he saw Davey haul out three huge boxes of art supplies from his closet).
Lunch together becomes a regular thing. Which means Davey has words to say about Jack's typical lunch--or lack thereof. One day, Davey unceremoniously presents Jack with a Tupperware of latkes.
“Eat,” he orders.
Jack side eyes him. “I got lunch right here.”
“Cup-O-Noodles is not a meal.”
“Lunch doesn't have to be a meal.”
"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard."
"Oh, so you've never heard yourself speak?"
"Shut up and take the damn potatoes."
They're heavenly and damn delicious.
In return, Jack brings him a tub of spaghetti the next week.
"Eat," he mimics. Davey gives him a withering glance and Jack clarifies. "It's my ma's recipe. You won't regret it."
"Ah, so you can be a functioning adult," Davey teases. "You just choose not to."
Because Jack's got exactly two brain cells, and both of them are focused on Davey taking an uncharacteristically messy bite of the meal Jack's prepared for them, he says, offhandedly, "I choose to, for you."
Davey nearly coughs up his spaghetti, but doesn't mention it again.
Other than that, things at Pulitzer High are great. Quiet, even. Easy.
And then they get The Memo.
---
“I honestly don’t see what’s so bad about becoming a charter school.”
“Davey,” Jack hisses. Even though Jack seems upset, it doesn't stop the warmth in his stomach at hearing the nickname. “Davey, Davey, Davey. Charter schools get public funding, but they get to decide which kids stay and which kids go. Those signs that say 100% passing rates of standardized testing? It’s because they kick out anyone who can’t meet it. Including kids with LDs and 504 plans. It ain’t right.”
“Shit, I didn't know that. That's fuckin' awful."
"On top of that, you don't have to be certified to be hired."
"I'm not certified," Davey points out.
"Yeah, but you enrolled in one of them ACPs--so you will be. Charter schools don't require the year grace period because they don't require certification. Look, I'm not saying that every teacher in this country is perfect, or hell, even at this school. But it takes a lot of effort to get certified--even if it's not a perfect system--and I don't think it's something we should bypass. If Pulitzer goes Charter, Admin determines your hours, not the board. And kids with lower income households and undiagnosed LDs are gonna bear the brunt of these so-called higher standards. They'll fall right through the cracks, and ain't nothing we can do about it."
A tense silence falls between them, and Davey isn't quite sure how to respond. He doesn't disagree with anything Jack's said, now that he's informed, but he's at a loss regardless.
"I... Sorry, this sorta shit just gets me all worked up. I feel so... so stupidly helpless."
"No, no," Davey says quickly, reaching across the table to clasp Jack's hand in his. It comes automatically, before his brain has the good sense to cross it. Jack looks down at their twined hands, lips parted in what Davey thinks (hopes) might be a breathless gasp. "I get it."
Clearing his throat, he tears his hands away and tucks them beneath the table. He faces away, training his gaze to the creepy portrait of their school's namesake that's hung in the Teacher's Lounge and--
Shit.
Davey has an idea.
A big, stupid, risky idea.
A big, stupid, risky idea that might just be big and stupid and risky enough to impress Jack Kelly, who almost prides himself on being all those things.
"You know about Joseph Pulitzer?" Davey finally asks.
“Yeah, wasn’t he some big time publisher or something?”
“He was. He also tried raising newspaper prices for kids who made a living selling them.”
“Sounds like a real sweetie. Taking advantage of a buncha kids like that.”
“I mean, they did fight back. Gotta give them that credit.”
“They fought back? Against a giant like Pulitzer? How’d they manage that?”
“Well.” Davey turns to meet Jack’s gaze. “They went on strike.”
#javey#javid#jack kelly#david jacobs#newsies 2017#newsies#I have…. more thoughts#livesies#so there might be a part two to this????#or I might turn it in to a full out fic lmao lmk what y’all think#bc this is just kinda *waves vaguely* there#no beta we die like men#also sorry ive never written javey before so dont be mean pls#i havent written anything except klaine in like. ten years lasdjfhdjfsd PLS BE KIND I AM A SIMPLE WOMAN-ADJACENT PERSON
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i think im having a stroke
#what is happening. what am i watching. where am i#anyway i am mostly incoherent but i have. a thought or two#this man is so repressed that he skipped right over the part where a guy can't handle any suggestion that he might be gay#instead our boy gregory is getting ahead of everyone (including and especially himself)#by joking about being gay and specifically about being in love with wilson#because hey! that must mean he couldn't possibly be repressed :)#he's just that secure in his straightness :)#...#...yeah#house md#hilson#house season 2#the mistake#op
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i’m so totally normal about the fact that aziraphale’s last (known) deliberate foray into the queer community was when he learned the gavotte at the fictionalized hundred guineas club (!!!) in the 1800s and now in the 2020s he’s like “grindr? what’s that?”
many are talking about his repression which is very valid… and yet the thing to me that stands out about aziraphale is that he’s actually… incredibly stable in his identity and that identity IS incredibly queer. queer by the standards of heaven AND by human standards as well
metatron describes his “de facto partnership” with crowley as “irregular.” and in fact aziraphale in his entirety is irregular. he likes and makes it his business not only to understand but to be a connoisseur of all manner of things angels aren’t supposed to even remotely care about. food. music. books. theatre. sleight of hand. and more.
it’s the sort of behavior that would’ve gotten him othered, treated as a bit odd, in heaven even if he hadn’t chosen to consort all across the earth with a literal demon. and it IS treated that way - the fact is aziraphale even as an angel has got proclivities that set him apart from the rest of the host (even after offering him the highest position in heaven, metatron still acts deeply dismissive of him… like aziraphale’s bookshop is merely a quaint little hobby of his that can be easily transferred to another custodian, and not a literal extension of who aziraphale has become, full of his tartan and unique bibles and special vintages of wine and the books arranged in a very specific way)
so. aziraphale is a queer angel but of course he’s also queer to other humans. but in such a way that… he had his realization a LONG time ago, and put the matter very much to rest after that. aziraphale is perpetually something like several centuries behind schedule. he owns an ancient computer that probably continues to run windows 98 simply because aziraphale’s decided it should. he wears the same waistcoat and coat for generations because he simply likes them precisely the way they are and sees no reason to change them. but the idea that he doesn’t know how he comes across to others - of course he does. he knows he looks like your prim and proper grandfather and he prefers it that way
aziraphale looked around at humans in the 1880s and said: ah yes. this is where i fit. and promptly ensconced himself in that queer subculture. learned the gavotte. read his austen. loved crowley from afar. aziraphale is fiercely and vibrantly queer. just with the sort of assurance of someone who lives with his lover in a commonlaw marriage for decades and then shows up at city hall for the certificate once society decides it’s ‘allowed.’ like… he hasn’t had any need to know what grindr is because aziraphale’s ‘scene’ was a century and a half ago and it defined romance for him too.
but my favorite thing about aziraphale is how much of him is about appearances versus the truth. he can lie straight to angels’ faces and sleep at night. he knows he comes off soft but he once wielded a flaming sword. he dissembles helplessness but he’s far from it and he knows precisely how it makes others treat him. and at the core of aziraphale is rigidity, inflexibility of ideas… his sense of self is stable where crowley’s is malleable, and so on, and so on
and the fact that he’s continuously fixated on trying to misguidedly do the right thing, the fact that he seeks heavenly approval and wants to fit the world into his schema of good vs evil… in no way do i think that means he isn’t one hundred percent aware of how he feels about crowley or what it means about him by angelic or human standards. i’ve seen some folks saying that aziraphale doesn’t want to like kissing crowley and like… as much as i love me some brideshead revisited/atonement flavored angst; i put forth that it’s not internalized homophobia or queer panic but simply: “i’m trying to do the right thing for both of us and you won’t let me.” and “i wanted our first kiss to be different.” he was envisioning an entirely different flavor of romance than what he got but he emma woodhoused too close to the sun
like, y’all. aziraphale in all likelihood has a glorious collection of historical queer erotica. he just has a feathery diva coat hanging in his closet, and for what. “oh, good lord” he says at crowley’s revolutionary outfit in the bastille, while eyeing him up like an entire meal. he’s so good at affected propriety, at carefully constructed stuffiness, but between the two of them aziraphale’s got to be the one who has experience
aziraphale had been physically throwing himself at crowley the entire season. he orchestrated an entire regency ball so they could touch hand to hand. he spends the entire season (well, and season 1) looking at crowley like he’s particularly coveted. he looked at crowley before the fall like he was glorious and beautiful. aziraphale’s queer and he knows it and i think that isn’t his problem, it’s the fact that he wants to build a different sort of future for the two of them but crowley’s gone and thrown a wrench in it by reminding him of everything he can finally have. like. that’s the heartbreak. it’s how dare you make this ugly? i forgive you for our first kiss being all pain and salt. it’s my dearest, i wanted to make heaven as beautiful as you deserve. as sacred and safe for us as our bookshop. and i can do that for us, because once i held a flaming sword and i still remember how the hilt felt in my hands. and now the taste of you is in my mouth.
#coughs this is also why aziraphale’s a dom. but that’s a separate post#good omens#good omens 2#ineffable husbands#good omens 2 spoilers#this continues to be an aziraphale stan account#‘aziraphale is traumatized’ and ‘aziraphale celebrates the part of himself that loves crowley’ are two ideas that can coexist#feeling a bit like this take might get me flamed whoops but. i’m deep in my az feelings tonight so i guess i’ve decided to share anyway
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worst way to start my new year, thanks. i have a lot of things to say about these companies but i'm tired and just keeping it focused to the pin side of things for this one. do not ever buy pins from these companies, literally ALL of them are stolen from small artists like me. if you want to buy enamel pins, check out etsy, and artist's personal websites and shops! (though even Etsy has some bootleg pins that ship straight from china, so tread carefully…)
Every pin I've designed is, thus far, EXCLUSIVE to my etsy. if you find it anywhere else, it's been ripped off! and once these stupid bootlegs pop up, it's basically a never ending game of whack-a-mole trying to get them all taken down...
#psa#art theft#pin theft#aliexpress#shein#wish#temu#deltarune#the bootleg pin is just over an inch tall. do you know how BAD this design looks at that size?? i'd know. i tested it.#they didn't even use the black nickel of the pin for the black parts of the design. and the listing says copper for some reason. what.#some people never even get their designs taken down. its really sad#so i might just have to deal with bootleg queens out there forever :( i hope nobody confuses the ripoffs for the real thing....#my pin is so much nicer! its almost two inches big and it has two posts on the back so it doesn't spin#because spinning pins are the bane of my existence#im out here working my ass off out of my bedroom in my parents place trying to make a living and here come these pricks#i watermarked all my listing photos exactly so they Couldn't steal my fucking pictures so at least there's that#my new years is just full of bad luck so far i hope this isn't a bad omen#if my registration isn't accepted by the aliexpress copyright department I'm SOL and this will just. stay up i guess#i'm sad#bootleggers kys
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decided to draw some of your guys' tags from my harlequin sun and moon post!!! These guys are so much fun and you're all so funny >w<
#there were so many i wanted to draw!!! I might have to go back and do a part two hehe#also too scared to spam everyone by tagging accounts but i need you guys to know i love you all sm!! sending u all so many little kisses!!!#fnaf#fnaf fan art#fnaf security breach#fnaf daycare attendant#fnaf dca#dca fandom#dca au#fnaf sun moon#digital art#artist on tumblr#harlequin#clowns#answered asks#<- this doesn't really count but because i am drawing other people's tags i'm putting it here!#folks commenting on my art really motivate me to keep drawing ;w; you are all so insanely sweet and absolutely make my day every time!!! <3#just over here crying akjsfhsf thank you all so mucchhhhhhh ;;w;;
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“What the fuck are you doing here.”
Regulus rolls his eyes. “Thought it would be fun to freeze my arse off in the cold today.”
James scoffs disbelievingly. “It’s 5 in the morning!”
Regulus just raises his eyebrow. “And?”
“Why aren’t you asleep?”
“I could ask the same thing.”
James groans out loud in frustration. “This is such a waste of time.”
“Glad we could finally agree on something. Now get out, I have to get back to training.”
“Shouldn’t you be focusing on how to kill muggles instead with your death eater friends?”
Regulus stiffens at that, anger coursing through him. “Not everyone has the luxury of choices like the gryffindor golden boy.” Regulus glared at Potter. “Some of us have to work for it.”
James goes to argue but there’s something off about the sentence. “Slytherin has beaten everyone else by miles since you became a seeker.”
Regulus looks at him like he’s the slow one. “That’s not going to cut it. I need to be signed on full time by a professional team this time next year.”
And suddenly - it clicks. James looks at the boy in front of him, really looks at him for the first time, finally understanding the desperation with which regulus plays, the ruthless efficiency combined with skill and hours of training.
This isn’t a game to him. It’s his way out.
part 2
#so proud of this#this can be considered canon#might make a part 2?? idk#lmk your thoughts + ideas for a part two!!#harry potter#marauders era#marauders era funny#marauders era textpost#regulus black#the black brothers#jegulus#james potter#walburga black#orion black#marauders fanfic#jegulus fanfic#fanfiction#starchaser#sunseeker#quidditch au
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Shovel Talk(s) Part One
Part One 🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four
Steve and Eddie aren't even together when Steve gets the Shovel Talk from Eddie's uncle, but it is what tips Steve into talking to Eddie about his feelings, so he's not upset by it.
They aren't dating, not because he doesn't want Eddie, because he absolutely does. It's just that he wants to be sure Eddie wants him back. There are times when he's sure, when Eddie gets into his space a bit too close, or more often, than he does with anyone else. Eddie calls him a thousand and one nicknames, ranging from sweet to irritating but just when Steve thinks that's a perk left just for him, Eddie hands someone else a new nickname (just the one, a voice in Steve's head that sounds suspiciously like Robin says).
Not that any of that is the point. Wayne wouldn't bother to give Steve a shovel talk at all unless he knew how Eddie felt. Wayne is a man of action, and he's never done anything unless it mattered. Meant something. Steve and Wayne have sat in plenty of (what Steve considers to be) awkward silences because Wayne doesn't talk to fill the void of silence.
The point is, Steve drops Eddie off at the house the government so graciously bought for the Munsons, walks Eddie to the door and giving Eddie a hug goodbye. He stays on the porch until Eddie shuts the door and then nearly jumps out of his skin when he hears Wayne call out his name.
"Harrington," Wayne says from the shadows of the wrap around porch.
So, Steve jumps and it's only then he notices that Wayne is sitting at the table and chairs set up on the porch. "Mr. Munson, sir, hi. Hello."
Wayne lets out a chuckle, but it doesn't really sound amused. "I have come to accept that you are nothing like your father, boy, but I do want to make it clear to you, that Eddie means more to me than anything else on this Earth."
"I know, sir."
"I know you do. And while I will forever be grateful that you helped return him to me alive, know that I will not hesitate to make you disappear if you hurt my boy in a way he can't bounce back from."
Steve's not afraid of Wayne, not really, but that doesn't stop him from feeling the need to flee. He doesn't, though, because he'd gotten enough shovel talks from concerned parents in high school, and he knows they can sense weakness. "I can't promise I'd never hurt him, sir, but I can promise it'll never be intentional."
He can't actually see Wayne's face in the darkness but he feels sized up all the same.
"I believe that, Steve," Wayne says, and it's the first time Steve's ever heard his name leave the man's mouth, "now go home."
-
Wayne's shovel talk was expected. Robin's is not.
"You took Eddie on a date date?" She whispers it as though they aren't alone in Steve's living room. They're laying on the floor in a line, heads next to each other so if they turn slightly to the side they can make eye contact. Steve's not sure why they always end up on the floor for Serious Talk Time.
"Yeah," Steve says, looking away from Robin's face to stare up to the ceiling, "I mean, sorta? We can't like... be open that it was a date, but we went to dinner and a movie and it was nice. Shared a popcorn and played footsie under the diner table."
"Whoa," Robin says. "I never thought you'd- didn't think you'd be brave enough to ask him."
"Me either."
"Steve," Robin sounds serious, so Steve turns to look at her. She studies his face for a moment before she's the one to look away, speaks to the ceiling, "be careful with Eddie, yeah?"
"What? Careful how?"
"I just think you could really fuck him up," Robin says. "You're his first boyfriend, right? That's going to set a precedent for relationships that might happen if you two don't work out. And I hate to say this, because I know you've changed, but like, I saw how a lot of those girls you dated in high school ended up when you broke up with them."
Steve's a little hurt, because Robin's his best friend. She should be giving this talk to Eddie, not him. But, also, he understands. He knows that Robin knew about Eddie's sexuality before he did, knows they bonded over being queer while Steve was still figuring himself out.
Steve also knows that Eddie's never been in a relationship before, Eddie'd told him at much when Steve asked him out. Steve doesn't like that Robin implied that he and Eddie will eventually break up, but no matter how much that thought makes Steve's heart ache, he won't know if it'll happen unless it does.
He just doesn't understand why she seems to think he'll be the one breaking Eddie's heart. It could go the other way.
"Did you OD over there?" Robin asks, trying to lighten the mood.
"No," Steve answers, "I'll be careful."
-
They've been on four more dates before Nancy knocks on his door. She doesn't accept his invitation to come inside. Just starts speaking on his doorstep.
"As Eddie's Capital P Soulmate," is how she starts that sentence, and it makes something hurt deep inside Steve as he tries not to think about Robin, "I am obligated to remind you that I do own several guns now. And I don't miss."
"Jesus Christ," Steve says, because even Wayne was more subtle, "I got it."
"Good. I do know you'd never hurt him on purpose," Nancy says but Steve doesn't feel reassured.
He thinks that, if she really didn't think he's going to end up hurting Eddie she wouldn't have said anything at all. "Right."
"Well, good talk Steve," and then she's walking down the driveway and climbing into her car.
He closes the door and goes to the kitchen to get himself a beer, mostly so he has something to do besides stew in his emotions. He wonders if Eddie has been given the shovel talk, too? Maybe Robin did the same thing Nancy just did. Showed up unprompted, threatened Eddie with some sort of bodily harm, and then just left.
Steve grabs the phone and dials Eddie's number.
"Hello?" Eddie's voice greets him, albeit questioningly.
"Eddie, it's Steve."
"Oh, hello sweetheart," Eddie says, "are you calling for business or pleasure?"
Steve laughs, "business."
"Boo!"
"Listen, uh, I had a question. I just wanted to know if anyone's said anything to you. About us. Or, y'know, specifically about us and our relationship?"
"Uh, not really? A few congratulations, I guess. Why? Did someone say something?" Eddie's voice is level, almost too level, so Steve knows he's trying to keep cool.
"Oh, no! No! I mean, aside from the scary shovel talk from- Wayne, everyone's been surprisingly cool about it. Very supportive," Steve says and even though it's true, everyone they've told has been cool about it, it feels a little bit like a lie.
Eddie laughs, "I can't believe my uncle gave you a shovel talk! You know, I keep expecting to get one from Robin but so far nothing. She must think you're safe in my capable hands."
Steve is safe in Eddie's hand, he thinks, but that doesn't stop the sting that goes through him. "Of course, she does. You've been a perfect boyfriend."
There's a pause before Eddie's voice comes through the phone, soft and quiet, "I'm glad you said so. I want to be. For you."
"You're not allowed to say those kinds of things when you aren't within kissing distance, babe," Steve says, because if he doesn't add humor to this conversation, he's going to tell Eddie he loves him instead, and even Steve knows that saying that a month into dating is too soon, especially over the phone where he can't see Eddie's reaction.
Eddie laughs and makes kissing sounds at him before the conversation shifts to chatting about the day and making plans for the weekend.
-
Steve is trying really hard to not be the person he was in high school but every time he gets to the point where he's being a better person, someone brings up how he used to be. Shoves it back into his face that no matter what Steve does he can't outrun his past.
One such time is shortly after Steve and Eddie accidentally come out as a couple to all of Hellfire. Steve was just dropping off the boys and had stepped inside to chat a bit. Once game time had arrived it had and Steve made to leave, they'd (he and Eddie) had been on autopilot. Eddie'd whined 'where's my goodbye kiss?' and Steve had stepped over, kissed him goodbye, and was out the door before it had actually computed.
Steve had burst back through the door, rushing back to Eddie, because no way in Hell was he going to leave his boyfriend to deal with whatever the consequences would be alone.
It had been absolute chaos at the table with people shouting over each other.
"Of all the people you could be with, you picked Steve!? You could do better!" Mike had whined, and Steve had thought for sure he was the only one who had heard Mike until he saw Will punch his arm and hiss his own 'don't be a dick' at Mike.
It took almost half an hour to calm everyone down. It was a relief to know that Eddie had come out to his bandmates/the older Hellfire members already. The kids took it in stride, in the end, and Eddie had shoo'd Steve away.
Jeff had excused himself, too, and Steve thought he was just going to use the bathroom but instead he followed Steve outside.
Ah. Steve knows what's coming.
"Harrington," Jeff says, "can't say I'm excited that you're the secret boyfriend Eddie's constantly sighing wistfully about. I'm sure Wayne's already threatened you," And Robin, and Nancy, and Mike doesn't think he's good enough, "but if you hurt Eddie-"
"I get it! There will be dire consequences if I hurt Eddie," Steve snaps, not down for hearing it anymore. He stomps to his car and peels away from the curb without bothering to look back.
-
If he's being honest, Steve didn't even know he had a breaking point with shovel talks until he gets his fifth one from Dustin.
It's not even a shovel talk. It's just a single sentence, said almost a month after Dustin learned about their relationship. He's dropping Dustin off after their DnD game. Normally Claudia picks him up, but she's busy tonight and asked Steve to do it.
"Alright, Henderson, safely delivered."
"Thanks, Steve," Dustin says, unbuckles his seatbelt, and opens the door, before turning back to Steve. He just looks at him for a moment.
"What?"
"I'm happy for you and Eddie. Just, don't hurt him, ok?"
He nods his head but can't say anything. Dustin grabs his backpack, shoots him a smile, and climbs out. Steve does wait until Dustin closes the front door behind him before putting the car back in gear.
He manages to get home, somehow, because Steve doesn't fully remember the drive. It's not that his mind was so focused on something else that made him fail to take in his surroundings, but rather that his mind wasn't even a part of his body anymore.
One moment he was pulling away from the Henderson residence, and the next, he was home, just standing in his kitchen in the dark. And now that his thoughts are back, or easier to process, he finds himself wondering why everyone thinks that he's going to be the one to hurt Eddie.
How many people has he hurt that this is his reputation? Is it inevitable that he will hurt Eddie? Is it truly just a matter of time until he breaks Eddies heart? Why is everyone so convinced that he will?
Briefly the thought occurs to him that maybe he should call up Eddie and break up with him right now, before Eddie has a chance to get in deep enough that Steve could break his heart, but just the thought of it breaks Steve's heart, so he's not going to do that. Doesn't want to do that. That would just be punishing Eddie for something he didn't do.
None of this is Eddie's fault, and Steve's an asshole for even thinking of breaking up with him because of it. Which feeds him back into the loop of thinking that maybe everyone is right about him. He is an asshole and will someday hurt Eddie, perhaps even on purpose.
He loves Eddie. He's in love with Eddie. But does loving him mean proving his friends wrong? Or does it mean leaving him before they're proven right?
He wants to ask everyone why they think he'll hurt Eddie.
He wants to ask everyone why they don't care if he's the one that gets hurt.
#steddie#my fic#we like making steve a sad emotional mess right guys?#steve-centric#we gotta make the boy Sad so that his boyfriend can fix him#is that healthy? not IRL but this is fanfic and if i want Love to solve all the problems then im allowed to do that#only itll be in part two#that might get written one day#is steve putting words into his friends' mouths#yeah duh the boy needs therapy but its the 80s so hes not getting any
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some of the best lines of npmd
not in any order, just the ones I remembered first
M’bahbeque
Everyone’s got their secrets, and this one’s mine - I love Jesus 🥺
My titties are tenderized 😡
She’s bisexual and she’s dead where else do you think she’d be
Did you just throw your hand between the hammer and the phone
You and Steph? It’s a fantasy. Just like a boy and his anime love pillows
Oh it’s all right Grace! -Don’t comfort her she’s fucking weird
NONO this is like the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me
Mom will you pass the butt stuff
No we’re gonna be cool beans let’s keep these beans cool
I AM GOD GOOO NIGHTHAWKS
We understand you and we support you but you fucking reek man
I love being alive! (This isn’t my favorite because it’s so tragic but that’s why I put it here)
I WANT SOME HOT WATER AND MAKE IT STRONG 🤬
we don’t give a shit about your phone
#I might make a part two whenever I get the time to rewatch it again#I love npmd so much#Npmd#nerdy prudes must die#npmd spoilers#nerdy prudes must die spoilers#starkid#Team starkid#hatchetfield#Cor speaks
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part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6 - part 7 - part 8
"I'm just saying, if the heat bothers you so much, you could cut your hair" Nancy points out, after declining Eddie's pleas for her spare scrunchie.
Robin sits on Nancy's lap, clutching the back of Steve's seat and she looks at Steve through the side mirror like she's afraid that he's about to go on a mission to defend Eddie's honor or something but Steve rolls his eyes at her. He's not that gone.
Or at least he knows how to hide it well.
Eddie's lost several of Nancy's favorite hair accessories and two weeks ago she bowed to never lend him any ever again.
Which, does not stop Eddie from asking her anyway at least once a day.
But the point is, even if Steve wanted to, Eddie's honor cannot be defended in this situation.
Nancy's leaning behind Argyle's back now to glare at the metalhead. Steve can see them in the rearview mirror.
Eddie gasps "I would never" he says, clutching his chest dramatically.
Steve secretly breathes a sigh of relief.
Johnathan chuckles at the wheel. "But you could" he comments, eyes on the road.
Steve can see Argyle subtly laughing and shaking his head out of the corner of his eye.
Today is a rare occasion, Jonathan is driving them in Steve's car.
The goal of Steve's rant earlier about having to drive them everywhere was to get Eddie to drive them, so Steve could sit shotgun and watch Eddie drive.
Instead, Jonathan had offered first and then Steve couldn't go in the backseat because he's in charge of their map.
But whatever, this is fine too. He trusts Jonathan and it is nice to get a break and to be able to fully turn around when he's talking to someone in the backseat.
"Jon, I would lose all my sex appeal, you don't get it" Eddie answers, getting a box of Twinkies from one of the many bags they packed and placed on the floor of Steve's car.
"I get it" Argyle chimes in, watching Eddie pull out a Twinkie and shaking his head no when Eddie offers him one.
"You'd still be sexy with short hair" Robin comments from her seat on Nancy's lap.
Everyone turns to look at her.
"What?" she shrugs "I can say that"
Nancy chuckles into her shoulder.
Steve opens their map again to stop thinking about Eddie's 'sex appeal', even as the guy is excitedly munching on a Twinkie in the backseat of Steve's car.
He's got cream in the corner of his mouth and he clearly put more in his mouth than he can comfortably chew. He's leaning one elbow on Argyle's shoulder, his hand holding half a Twinkie, his other hand holds his mop of hair up in a high bun, causing his cut off tank to sit barely covering his nipples, his tattoos on display and his armpit hair fully visible.
Steve's fairly certain nobody else in this car would get it, but to him the sight is mouth watering. The guy is practically irresistible.
"I don't think i would've gone on even half the dates I've gone on if i didn't have my hair" Steve muses, for something to say and to add to Eddie's point, even though he agrees with Robin.
Almost everyone answers with agreeable noises, except Eddie and Robin.
Robin snorts and says "You are relentless"
While Eddie says "You don't get dates for your hair" at the same time. In a tone that suggests he thinks this is an obvious thing.
"I mean- it doesn't hurt" provides Nancy, she sends Steve an apologetic look but Steve waves her off. It's a compliment as far as he's concerned, he loves his hair.
Eddie finishes his treat and opens a new one while everyone else gives their opinions.
"For a lot of people, hair is a big part of attraction" Jonathan is saying, trying to seem like he's not speaking from experience.
"Especially hair as luscious as Steve's" Argyle agrees, leaning forward to lightly comb the side of Steve's hair, making him laugh.
"Thanks, man" Steve says overlapping Eddie's response.
"And I agree!" he exclaims "I'm saying he doesn't get dates because of his hair." Eddie goes on, waving his new Twinkie around for emphasis. "People throw themselves at Steve, and always will, but it's not because of his hair" he repeats.
Steve feels his cheeks heat up but still asks "Then why?"
"Well, because you're very pretty!" Eddie answers easily, like everyone should already know this.
Steve keeps his eyes carefully trained on the map, like he needs to study it meticulously, right this moment, while they're in the middle of a highway.
His cheeks are burning up and he can feel it spreading to his ears.
"And that's if they don't know you!" Eddie continues "If they do know you they know you're kind and brave and strong ...and generous and funny. Who wouldn't want all that in a date?" Eddie finshes.
Oh I don't know, you? Maybe? Do you? Steve thinks.
"Even bald, people would still go crazy for you" Eddie adds, his words slightly muffled towards the end as he shoves almost all of the new Twinkie in his mouth but apparently thinks better of it, biting all but a small piece.
"Here. You want the rest of this?" Eddie offers Steve, talking through his mouthful, and presenting the small piece with his ringed fingers, right in front of Steve's face.
Without thinking, Steve leans forward and takes it with his mouth, his lips burning where they touched Eddie's fingers.
As Eddie retrieves his hand Steve realizes what he just did and how quiet the car got.
He sends Robin a panicked look through the side mirror as Jonathan awkwardly clears his throat.
"Argyle's got nice hair" Robin tries.
The car immediately fills up with enthusiastic agreement and Steve slowly breathes out.
He can't bring himself to look at Eddie as he chews on his bite. He practically licked Eddie's fingers. Unprompted! The guy probably meant for Steve to grab the treat and then eat it. If he even accepted it at all!
Steve feels like an idiot and he frowns at the map again, willing himself to ignore the goosebumps in his arms and the tickling on his lips.
He doesn't see Eddie worriedly staring at him for the remaining of their conversation, until Nancy takes pity on him and offers up her spare scrunchie to distract him.
part 2
#if there's one thing you should know about them is this: they are sooooo dumb <3#steddie#steveddie#steddie headcanon#stranger things#.#i hope the car configuration isn't too confusing here#also i didn't tag the other ships bc they're so minimal and I don't wanna clog those tags#also this could be platonic. or it could be polycule. you decide :)#i might have a part two but don't tell#also if this by some curse this is seen by someone who was there when i acted like Eddie is acting here SHUT UP#this is fictionalized and NOT YOUR BUSINESS#steddie lake fic
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ALL OF THEM ☆ twt • kofi • insta
#stardust crusaders#jjba#jjba fanart#jojos bizarre adventure#jotaro kujo#noriaki kakyoin#nevermind I'm not tagging everyone#blowing on this like a dandelion#not bad for a two hour session#mati draws#might do part 4 later and then nothing else#so sorry everyone's so purble
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the funniest part about coming to mha late, was I knew bkdk was extremely controversial and had seen some of the discourse about from the outside, so when I finally decided to watch it I was shocked to discover just how much of the plot revolved around izuku having a huge crush on kacchan
#bakudeku#bkdk#chases him down with a broken arm to tell him his secret#gets powers from all might bc he saw his beloved was the boy being attacked by the sludge villain#ochako: isn’t that the kid who bullies you? izuku: YEAH HES AMAZING#I WANNA BEAT YOU BC YOURE AMAZING KACCHAN#copies all his moves#only decides to take the tournament seriously when kacchan does#just the entirety of kacchan v deku part two#trains with kacchan shares his top secret meetings with all night with kacchan#watches him longingly as he saves to win during the training exercise#goes into a bloodlust when kacchan takes a hit for him#only returns home when kacchan pleads with him to come back#kacchan gets murdered specifically because izuku loves him so much#izuku takes the fight with Shigaraki to the ground to protect kacchan’s dying body#longingly staring at him as kacchan saves all night#little baby izuku chasing him around and staring at him bc he’s just that besotted#kudo teasing izuku by bringing up kacchan#and that’s all just izuku don’t even get me started on Our Gaylord and Savior Kacchan
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Finally drew Goldfinch fan art! They are definitely my favorite duo
#qsmp#qsmp fanart#qsmp jaiden#qsmp foolish#qsmp leo#This was supposed to be a quick sketch but then a month passed and jaiden left soooo#OTL#Posting this late at night cuz Ive worked on it for so long I convinced myself no one will like it#might reblog at a later time when I can love it again#Im proud of myself at least for finishing it#also I love foolishes boots#I want them#and I think leo's big toothy smile is the cutest#fun note#I gave leo two peircings#one is a purple sapphire for vageta and the other a emerald for foolish#if any of the eggs are going to have multiple piercing's I def think it would be leo#but just two on each ear for now cuz leo is still a kid#another fun fact#the shopping cart was the hardest part cuz I drew out the poses first then tried to fit the cart around them#dont do this#learn from my mistakes
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The only thing that kept me going was knowing that you were here.
McWexler in Every Season
SEASON FIVE
#bcsedit#better call saul#jimmy x kim#mcwexler#kim wexler#jimmy mcgill#i say this about every season but godddd season five might be my favorite mcwexler season#years later and i still haven't recovered....they're it babey!!!!#i made sooo many gifs that i had to cut that i can actually make a part two to this lmaoooo#how am i at season six already i'm so sadddd#mcwes#mine
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Absolutely love the possessive ex Scaramouche ramble in tags, please feed us more of that.
Gladly!! :D
(cw: yandere, extremely toxic ex scara, modern au, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, stalking, coercion, obsession, forced marriage, violent/suicidal threats, manipulation, mentions of intoxication/alcohol, implied self-harm)
The two of you were what everyone calls ‘high school sweethearts.’ You met him in the cafeteria when the both of you were first years. Despite the scowl etched on his face, he looked lonely sitting all by himself while everyone was finding tables, old and new friends gathering in groups. He’d ignored you, even scooting further away when you’d attempt to move closer. Even though he seemed so averse to you, you remained, silently eating your lunch. Neither of you said anything, but you did introduce yourself. He scoffed under his breath.
You started to sit next to him for every lunch, and he continued to give you the silent treatment. You never pressed him for conversation, instead choosing to enjoy silence while you ate and admired him from the sidelines. He never looked at you, always facing forwards and toying with his chopsticks, bending them so far until they were ready to snap. Eventually, he seemed to grow accustomed to this routine because many weeks into the semester he turned to address you.
“Why do you always sit by me? Don’t you have anyone else to bother?”
“Maybe. But I don’t think anyone’s as mysterious as you are.”
“‘Mysterious…’ Yeah, whatever.”
That seemed to be the catalyst because, as sardonic as he was, he’d begun talking to you. And it wasn’t long until he started to warm up to you every lunch until the both of you were exchanging lighthearted banter. Your friendship would only grow from this point onwards until, at the end of your first year during a study session to prepare for finals, where you were both pulling an all-nighter at your house, he’d asked you out. And you said yes, and the both of you had gone from best friends to lovers within the span of a year. The both of you were each other’s first partner, so it made doing things as a couple even more exciting because neither of you had any experience with dates or holding hands or kissing.
Kuni wasn’t a bad boyfriend. In fact, he was very loyal and sweet. He’d stand up for you if anyone was being rude to you or scrutinizing your relationship with hateful eyes. The two of you were nearly inseparable. When you weren’t spending time together in school, you were out doing things together. And when you couldn’t meet up in person, you’d text or call, sometimes talking late into the evening about all sorts of things. You were so immersed in him that you failed to notice the red flags slowly raising over time. But looking back there were a few notable ones.
He never invited you to his house. In fact, you’d never even met his parents, whereas he’d been to your home so often that your family practically became his own. He hadn’t mentioned anything about his family, and if you tried to suggest going to his house for dinner so that he could introduce you to them he was quick to change the subject. For a while you’d push this, more curious than concerned, but eventually you’d drop it when it became clear that he wasn’t going to divulge anything on the matter. That had stung, but you snuffed those feelings in favor of focusing on other aspects of your relationship.
The second red flag was just how clingy he became when the both of you were in your third year, having been together for two solid years. You never noticed it before because you loved him, but when friends had pointed out how attached he seemed—and it was to rather unhealthy levels, according to their observations—to the point where you were the only person he’d ever formed a bond with while at school you started to see the cracks in what felt like the perfect relationship. He’d text you every single day, at every single hour, all the time. He’d call you nonstop, even more so when you didn’t immediately pick up.
The third red flag coincided with the second. When you couldn’t make it to your phone, he was quick to blame himself and those around him for being responsible for your deteriorating relationship. Did I do something wrong? Are you mad at me? Did those guys bother you again? They probably told you some stupid shit about me, right? Don’t listen to them. Hey, you’re not mad, right? Call me back. I need to talk to you. Just text me when you can, okay? (Name), please don’t leave me. I’ll fix whatever’s wrong. Just promise you’ll stay. Messages of these kinds were what you could expect to receive from him. He’d fluctuate between self-loathing to loathing those around him within seconds, shoving blame onto classmates who’d bully him for being that “weird emo kid with too many piercings” and anyone else who tried to, in his words, “come between you and me.”
By the end of your third year, you started to fall out of love. He was so very dedicated to this relationship, evidenced by how much effort and care he’d put into it, but his clingy behavior was stifling. You’d lost some of your own friends because he chased them away, and it felt like you couldn’t do anything without him breathing down your neck. If you wanted to go anywhere with a friend or two, Kuni had to be there to accompany you. If you looked at another for too long, he’d think you were cheating. If you didn’t text or call him at certain times, if you failed to pick up, or—Archons forbid—you left him on seen, he’d spiral.
Kuni had this habit of sounding dangerously self-destructive when he feared you were being unfaithful or he thought you were going to break up with him, which meant you’d have to sit on the phone for hours convincing him that you loved him, that you’d never leave him, that you’d always be here for him, that you were sorry for not responding, that he needs to calm down and please, please, please don’t do anything rash. Those phone calls were always so stressful. You cried a lot; you’d beg him to put the knife away when he’d threaten to use it on himself, on you, on anyone who might try to take you from him. And, after a few hours of this, he’d be back to his usual self, as if a switch had been flipped. You could hear his adoring smile in his voice when he spoke, when he’d lovingly whisper into the phone, “I’m happy you’re mine. I love you so much.” And you’d shakily parrot the affirmation, too frazzled to say or do anything else.
One of your best friends Rosalyne, who you’d befriended in the midst of all of this, had been so supportive the minute you spilled the truth to her. Kuni hated her the most because she wasn’t afraid of him. Because she’d shut him down when he tried to pull you away from her. Because she wouldn’t approve of any of his toxicity. Rosalyne would take you on shopping sprees, brunch dates, and jogs at the local park. She was plenty of good to outshine Kuni’s bad, and the more time you spent with her the clearer your head would become. The both of you had plenty of sleepovers together, and she let you rant your heart out while she listened. She’d tell you to break up with him, but you’d agonized over how terrifying that would be. You couldn’t bear to tell Kuni the truth—that you wanted to separate because things had turned so rotten—because you were so scared. Scared of him and what he might do.
Scared that if he really did take a blade to himself it would be your fault. He told you that a lot. That it would be your fault if he did anything. That his blood would be on your hands. You believed him every time.
By your final year, you’d already had a plan for university outlined and you’d started applying to a few in advance. You never told Kuni about any of them because you worried he might apply to each one in hopes of going to the same school as you. And when there was the dance for the graduating class and Kuni had asked you to it, you’d told him you were going with Rosalyne and a few other friends as a group. He didn’t like this, as expected, but you’d been so sick of him and his behaviors that you snapped and spilled everything to him. You’ll never forget the look on his face when you told him that you were done with the relationship and that you never wanted to see him again.
He looked as if he could lunge at you and tear you to bloody ribbons at any moment.
You graduated single and so very refreshed, and your summer had been filled with friends. Kuni didn’t message you at all, which was surprising considering you were certain he’d spam you relentlessly after the break-up. But he never did. In fact, you never saw him again. Graduation had come and gone, and now that you could recover from such a terrible relationship he was becoming less of a burden for you. For a while you were anxious. You kept expecting to receive a phone call or to see some news about Kuni, but neither ever came. Rosalyne told you to stop thinking about him. It would only make you even more paranoid and that wouldn’t do your mental health any good. You were so grateful to have her in your life, but most importantly you were glad Kuni failed to scare her away.
Now you’re a second year in college and things have only gotten so much better for you. You and Rosalyne still keep in touch despite going to different schools. She’d gone to a university in Snezhnaya, while you enrolled in one in Sumeru, and you’ve blotted Kuni from your mind. You’ve made a fresh group of friends while attending classes: criminal justice major Shikanoin Heizou, creative writing major Kaedehara Kazuha, musical therapy major Venti, botany major Tighnari, and so many more wonderful people who have all welcomed you into their circles.
So when Venti drags a familiar face to your usual weekend outing, which is really just a retreat to the forest for drinking and smoking, creeping cold settles into your bones. He looks awkward with Venti’s arm slung around him as the more bubbly of the two drags him towards the bonfire, where you sit with the others roasting marshmallows for s’mores, and it’s a look that is so uncharacteristic on him. What’s even weirder is how friendly everyone greets him—as if they all know him—and you’re completely lost when they turn to you and ask if you’ve met Kunikuzushi.
“No,” you lie through your teeth, forcing a pleasant smile and extending your hand for a stiff handshake, which Venti snickers at. “No, I’ve never met him before.”
Apparently, he’s in one of Venti’s classes—it’s a course he’s taking solely because he needs the credits. Tighnari knows him because they usually work the same shifts at the campus café. Kazuha knows him from his linguistics and philosophy classes. Heizou’s ate with him in the dining hall plenty of times now and they’re also taking the same psychology class. It feels so genuine and yet so fake at the same time. Too perfectly manufactured to be a mere coincidence. But you do your best to push past these suspicions, and when he sits across from you, smiling at you and saying how nice it is to meet you, the warping flames paint his face in devilish shadows. That’s what you think he is when he acts like a completely different person from how he was when you dated: a devil who’s good at being kind and outgoing, noisy and abrupt, and always so foul-mouthed, but in a way that makes him charming. Your friends are so enthralled. They love him and his sense of humor. They love his quick wit. They love how fun he is. And suddenly weekends spent in the forest aren’t so enjoyable.
You do your best to overcome your doubts. For a few months you’re on edge. How he even found you is a mystery. Surely he wouldn’t stalk you and enroll in the same college just to get revenge or…whatever vengeance he wants from you. But when he treats you to coffee, when he brings you and the others pastries every other morning, when he invites the lot of you to study at the library, when he tells the funniest stories while crossed and everyone’s giggling like schoolgirls it really feels like he’s…healthier. Like he’s turned a fresh page in his life and is starting anew. Like he’s changed for the better.
Perhaps he just doesn’t remember you. You’ve changed your style over the years, so it’s possible he’s simply forgotten your image and can’t place memories to your name. Eventually, after soothing yourself with these theories, you begin to accept his presence in the group. He fits in so flawlessly, as if he’s a missing piece to the puzzle, and you can’t believe you’re admitting this, but you like this version of Kuni. He’s confident, not cocky. He’s kind, not rude. He gives everyone space. In fact, he rarely texts frequently in the group chat. And he’s funny! He’s so funny. You don’t think the Kuni from your past was ever as funny as the Kuni who regales everyone with lighthearted stories of how he once took in a stray cat that turned out to belong to his neighbor or how his old job had the strangest customers.
Maybe he truly did change. Maybe all of these coincidences really are coincidences. Maybe it’s for the best that you leave the past in the past.
Finals season looms, and the group hasn’t had time to meet up outside of class. Venti has tried to persuade everyone to come study at his apartment. His roommate won’t care (yes, he will. Xiao hates it when everyone gets blackout drunk and he has to wake everyone come morning), but if you’ve known Venti long enough you’ll know there is no studying that happens at these study sessions. This is probably the reason why he’s had to repeat a year.
With everyone’s schedules packed with academics, it’s difficult to find a time where everyone can get together to study. You think you might just be better off studying on your own, but Kuni’s message of you wanna pull an all-nighter for these lame af finals together?? accompanied with a photo of snacks and coffee, any thoughts of studying alone instantly vanish.
This is how you find yourself in his dorm, sprawled on his bed while he sits on the floor, whacking your dangling feet when they get too close to him. His roommate Albedo is currently out tutoring a few students at the library and won’t be back until much later, so it’s just you, Kuni, and a pile of textbooks and notes. You’ve hung out with Kuni a few times and he was great company during each. You’ve also fallen asleep in his dorm before, when you’d come over to binge a show the both of you enjoy, and you’d lost track of time and had slipped into a dream halfway through the marathon. You’d woken the next morning with Kuni looming over you, grinning deviously and holding an uncapped marker. He’d leaned down and whispered, “You drool in your sleep,” and you’d swatted at him and groused about how you were sleeping so peacefully when he just had to ruin your sleep (and your face) with his antics. And then there was that time when you were so drunk at that one party and you could hardly stand, he’d been there to help. He even stayed with you for the rest of that night, offering his assistance when you became nauseous or needed water or a snack until you passed out.
Despite your initial apprehensions, you consider him a friend. He’s no one nearly as close as Rosalyne or your other friends. He’s just a mutual friend, someone you’ll spend time with when you feel like it, but you don’t truly need him in your life. That, and part of you still struggles to trust him after all of the stress and unhealthy obsession he subjected you to.
“Kuni,” you whine, lifting your head from the textbook. “Can you get me some water? I’m thirsty.”
“Do I look like your maid?” he snaps, immersed in organizing his notes. “Get it yourself.”
“I’m picturing it now and you’re in a frilly dress and—”
“Forget I asked.” Setting his notebook down with an exaggerated sigh, he crosses the distance to the mini fridge and withdraws a bottle of water.
Grinning, you slide off of his bed and reach for it with a grateful hum. He smirks and takes a step back, holding it away from you.
“Seriously…”
Rolling your eyes, you lunge for it and he side-steps you with the practiced grace of a cat. You brace yourself against the wall and swipe at him. Again, he dodges, unscrewing the cap and shaking the bottle teasingly.
“I think I’ll take a sip for myself. All of this studying has left me so parched.”
“No fair! That’s mine!”
“Is it?” He pulls it away from his lips to observe the bottle and feigns surprise. “That’s weird. I don’t see your name on it.”
“Look closer!” you exclaim, but just as he’s about to humor you you pounce, tackling him to the ground—there’s a beanbag cushion that breaks your fall—and the water spills all over the both of you in the midst of the tumble. A slew of colorful words stick in Kuni’s throat and your laughter rings out melodiously. You seize his wrist and hold it down while reaching for the bottle in his other hand, where there’s still some water left. He struggles halfheartedly, relinquishing the bottle with a disinterested scoff, and you pull away from him to down what’s left.
While crushing the plastic bottle into a ball, you notice something on your palm—the palm that had grabbed Kuni’s wrist—and it takes a minute before the skin tone-colored substance registers in your mind.
Concealer.
You peer at him and notice that he’s cradling his arm, and confusion sprouts.
“So funny,” he spits with a hollow laugh. “You owe me a new beanbag if this one’s ruined.”
“Hey, hold on. What’s with the—”
“Forget it. You got your water, so let’s get back to studying. Or do you no longer want to be a perfect student?”
Without thinking, you grab his arm as he’s standing and when you look at his forearm you can see where the water’s started to wash the concealer away. Curiously, you scrub at it while he tries to yank his arm away, but when you unearth a dozen scars littering his wrist and climbing the length of his arm that creeping cold from before returns.
And suddenly you’re brought back to those phone calls—the ones where he’d threaten suicide and murder—and you stumble back as if you’ve been burned, half-expecting to hear those threats once more. Kuni’s staring at his wrist, his features twisted in grim disapproval, and for a moment you think he looks…hurt. Or maybe that’s sadness you see. Whatever emotion it was, it doesn’t linger because a quiet chuckle slips past his lips, and the sound is so very frigid it has your blood crystallizing.
“It really hurt when you said you never wanted to see me again.” Kuni peers down at you, and his eyes that had once been so bright and filled with light are dull and dark. “But nothing hurts more than loving you.”
You open your mouth to say something—anything—but the words won’t come. You’re rooted to the ground, horror slinking through your body and rendering you immovable. Your heart is in your throat, pounding so loudly it’s practically a drum, and a cold sweat washes over you.
“Each time I found myself hating you, I thought it was odd because I love you so much. I can’t possibly hate the one I’ve loved all this time.” He scowls. “But loving you hurts. Loving you feels like chewing glass and drinking poison. Loving you isn’t fair because while you moved forward with your ‘friends,’ I was forced to stay behind and pick up the pieces of what was left of you. So for every moment I couldn’t stand you, I tallied it on myself so that I’ll never forget the times I loved you so much I hated you.”
This can’t be happening, you’re thinking, curling your hands into trembling fists. He changed. He changed, right? This isn’t the same Kuni from before. This isn’t…
“And when I saw how well you seemed to be doing without me, I hated you even more.” Without warning, he’s grabbed your arm and hoisted you up. You open your mouth to scream, but no sound comes—not that anything could when he’s pulled a switchblade from his pocket and poised the pointed tip at your jugular. “You have poor taste in friends. Those guys suck.”
Tutting, he shakes his head at you like a parent might when scolding a child, and says, “Do you know how fucking tiring it was pretending? You think I care about pastries and stupid campfire stories? You really think I’d ever want to associate myself with that sorry lot?”
“K-Kuni, please let go of me. I… I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were—I’m sorry. So please just…”
“And then the first time you see me after all these years apart and you had the gall to lie to my face! ‘I’ve never met him before.’ Bullshit. You just didn’t want any of your loser friends to know our history, right? Because you’re ashamed to have known me, right?”
“That’s not it! I… I was just—I didn’t… I was… I just…”
“I… I… I…” he mocks, shoving you down onto the beanbag. It dips under the sudden weight, and you sink further into it when he points the blade at you. “Stop tripping over your tongue. I should be the one near tears! You cast me aside and then forgot all about me. You abandoned me when I needed you most.” His voice cracks at that last sentence, and your heart skips erratically.
“That’s not what happened! We needed space. I needed space. You were being too—” You stop yourself, unsure of how to phrase it. Too controlling? Too dangerous? Too scary?
“Lucky for you, I’m willing to overlook these past...slights.” The blade twirls effortlessly in his grasp, and you heave a relieved breath when he’s no longer pointing it in your direction. “Marry me and we’ll forget all about the past. We’ll start over.”
His demand almost stops your heart altogether. You stare up at him, mouth agape, and mumble a disbelieving, “What?”
“You heard me.” He seems to soften with his next words, and for a moment he looks and sounds like the Kuni who hangs out with you and your friends. The harmlessly fun Kuni who always takes such good care of you. “You’re the only one I’ll ever love, so let’s get married.”
“K-Kuni, I can’t... I really can’t...”
Within seconds the blade has found itself on his wrist, pressing into delicate flesh. Not enough to cut, but if he applies more force you’ll definitely see blood. You choke on a horrified gasp.
“What was that?” He raises his brow at you, challenging you with a calm smile.
Your mind reels in an effort to conjure a plan. What can you even do? If you take the blade from him, will he turn his anger on you? Will you have to wrestle him into submission? And if you do manage to get out of his dorm, will anyone believe you? He’s painted himself in such a pleasant light. Your friends love and trust him! So what can you say? And if there isn’t any solid proof, no one will even entertain bringing the authorities into this mess.
“I’m waiting, (Name). Are you really going to make me add another tally? Do you really want me to hate you again? Oh, but maybe I should start marking you! We can add a slice for each time you failed to love me. That way we’ll both look like used cutting boards.”
You need help, you want to say, but the words escape you.
Instead, you nod hastily and say breathlessly, “Okay, yes! I’ll marry you!” Swallowing your horror, you glance at the blade as it’s lifted from his skin. Thankfully, there isn’t a cut. “I... I’ll marry you, Kuni. So... So please don’t hurt yourself. Please.”
It feels like you’ve been strangled for an eternity, so when he finally pockets the blade the air in your lungs returns and you collapse against the beanbag, chest rising and falling in short, panicked breaths.
“Good.” He bends down to your height, grips your chin with cold fingers, and forces you to meet his adoring stare. “We’ll look at rings tomorrow. Or maybe you’d prefer bracelets instead? I can be flexible but only for you, so you’d better be grateful.”
You swallow rising bile and nod. “T-Thank you.” You’re not sure why you’re thanking him when he hardly deserves it, but it feels like the right thing to say to ease the tension.
Kuni’s eyes sparkle, no longer a void of endless darkness, and when he leans in to capture your lips in his your heart sinks. You really can’t run from your past, can you?
#genshin chit chat#yandere-romanticaa#yandere scaramouche#scara says he needs you but what he really needs is a therapist first and foremost#adding heizou into the mix!!! he probably takes notice of your change in behavior#and confronts you one on one to ask if everything's okay#and he looks so concerned and his voice is so soft and so you break and spill everything#and he nods while he takes in all of this information before offering to help#he knows the law (he's studying it after all!) so he can help you#but what heizou doesn't tell you is that the law might crush one evil person but it can easily protect other evils :)#especially him who is oh-so-honorable and sweet#you'd never know he wants to be more than just friends#and that he has a journal detailing your every move#but also i like the idea of heizou being a genuine friend and the two of you grow closer while trying to find ways to get scara caught#and taken away from you for good#but yan!heizou just hits so deliciously orz#also also!! adding in rosalyne~~ she went to the same uni as kuni (in snezhnaya)#but when he finally found out where you were he transferred#and rosa only realized they went to the same school when she found out from ajax (who also attends the same uni)#kuni probably worked part-time as a hospital receptionist before he transferred schools#and he's pretty sure the doctor there is a serial killer or he's just on the border of criminally insane (this is dottore after all)#(me looking at every way i can insert each harbinger into this au >:D)
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pov ur abt to b kisst by a shy lord/prince who is so so so extremely smitten with u
#bones of a rabbit art#doodles#sketches#fnaf au#fnaf moon x reader#fnaf moon x y/n#betrothed au#royal moon#royalty au#servant and royals au#silly fluff#might b part one n two to a short thing if I ever finish th next one sjdhdjd#anywayy sorry for being a corpse lately lol life has me by the throat and I’m rlly not into it 😔#also side note I LOVE drawing soft shy moon he’s so good and squishy
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Last-Minute Plans
Ushijima x fem reader
Warnings: NSFW (cockwarming, rather soft)
Words: ~ 1,5 k
About: Wakatoshi got a ring for you, and he needs to make sure it fits.
A/n: Happy Birthday to our beloved Wakatoshi-kun~
"It fits,"
he mumbles with a sigh of relief, one he hadn't realized he was holding. He looks contently at the jewelry now adorning your ring finger.
Ushijima knows that he's late with this. He should have attempted this plan a long time ago; he despises last-minute actions. Lately, however, you've insisted on waiting until he returns home late from practice due to extended training sessions just before the crucial match, making it impossible for him to secretly slip that ring onto your finger to see if it fits. He's aware he hasn't been giving you the time you deserve lately, but he's determined to make it up as soon as he can. He intends to spoil you as soon as the match is over and his schedule finally allows him to have more free time, treating you like the princess you are.
He had nearly abandoned the idea of trying the ring on your finger. He considered simply hoping for the best, planning to alter the ring quickly after proposing if it didn't fit. He knows you wouldn't have minded, but he wanted this moment to be perfect. The first difficulty he had encountered, however, was that you had rings in various sizes in your jewelry box- probably for different fingers, but even after sorting through them, he was still not convinced that he chose the right size.
Relief washes over him as he sees the ring fitting comfortably, and for a short moment, he envisions your future together. He dreams of having you sleep beside him every night, of going on the vacation you've always dreamed of, and of giving you the beautiful wedding ceremony you've always wanted. He's already asked Tendou to be his best man and informed his parents of his plans. He even decided to send his father a notice that his son will be getting married soon—hopefully.
The ring looks stunning on your hand. It's noticeable yet subtly elegant. He's confident you'll love it; you've often praised his taste, describing him as simple in his choices, which you adore.
His gaze drifts to your peaceful sleeping form. You must be exhausted not to have woken up yet. Normally, you'd wait until he returns or awaken when he quietly lies down beside you, an act he's yet to master. You'd always greet him with a tender kiss, a gesture he cherishes most during his days and misses the most when he's away. Yet, you sleep soundly, your face soft, breathing steady. You're wearing one of his shirts, the old Shiratorizawa jersey you claim is the comfiest—adorable on you, he agrees.
He's fairly certain you're wearing only flimsy panties beneath, but he'll take his sweet time tomorrow to explore every inch of your body.
"Toshi," your sleepy voice pulls him from his daydreams, and he quickly hides the ring, clutching your hand in his. You stir, turning towards him, brows furrowing as you reach out blindly.
"Y/n, go back to sleep. It's late," he murmurs in a soothing tone, knowing you find his voice calming.
"I missed you," you groan, squinting your eyes as you try to make out his face in the dimly lit room.
"I missed you too," he replies, smiling softly and leaning down to press a tender kiss to your lips. You smile in return, bringing your free hand to his cheek, a bit clumsily—almost slapping his face, but he doesn't mind; he is simply happy having you close.
"You haven't shaved today," you mumble as you caress his cheek. He hums in response. "I forgot. Does it bother you?"
"No, it doesn't. But you never forget to shave. What was on your mind today?"
You, he thinks, but for once, he refrains from sharing his thoughts. He needs to distract you, to take back the ring unnoticed. How you haven't noticed it so far surprises him.
"I was thinking about…" he begins, his voice trailing off, unsure how to respond without you getting suspicious.
"Wakatoshi, come to bed. You seem really tired," you yawn, and he suddenly knows what he needs to do.
Ushijima leans down to kiss you again, this time deepening the kiss with more passion. He feels your response, your body arching into his touch, your lips moving in sync with his.
"Toshi," you're already breathless after a few kisses, and he finally feels your hand relax, fingers intertwining with his with the metal still on your finger. He typically holds your hand more firmly, but now he keeps his grip gentle, ensuring you don't feel the ring on your finger. With his free hand, he traces the hem of your shirt, his fingers gliding beneath the fabric, encountering the softness of your skin.
"Want you, but I'm tired," you whisper against his lips, prompting him to nuzzle against your neck. "Should I pleasure you? Should I make you feel full?" You moan softly and weakly nod, your eyes barely open in the dark room. Unbeknownst to you, a wave of relief washes over him. This may not be going exactly as he planned, but making love to you with the ring already on your finger is better than he could have imagined.
He quickly runs through potential scenarios in which he could smoothly slide the ring off your finger, deciding to position himself behind you while maintaining a hold on your hand in front of your body. Shifting his body weight, he maneuvers behind you until his chest presses against your back. He skillfully settles beneath the blanket without releasing your hand, making sure not to tighten his grip around your fingers. His lips find your neck, where he places the gentlest kisses against your skin, earning the softest, most beautiful moans from your lips. His hips begin to rhythmically move against your backside, and he feels how he hardens in his pants.
You contently hum while you lean into his touch, raising one leg to allow him to slip his thigh between yours. "Feels good," you murmur as he starts a grinding motion against your pussy. He feels his growing need, a nearly instinctive response to your body. His earlier suspicion about you wearing only his shirt and panties appears accurate; that much he notices when his shorts ride up and his bare thigh grinds against your cunt. As much as he wants the feeling of your bare skin against his, he knows that undressing might raise too much suspicion. Instead, he guides his free hand downward, gently tracing circles against your clothed center.
"You're so perfect. So beautiful. I love you so much," he whispers into your ear, causing you to shudder in his arms. Your grip on his hand tightens, while your other hand softly clutches the sheets. He understands your needs. Grateful that he's still wearing the soft shorts, he pushes them down slightly, quickly freeing his cock.
"Should I use some lube?" he asks, concern lacing his voice, worried about hurting you since he hasn't fully prepared you yet—a truly challenging task when ensuring your hand remains held and he can only use one hand properly.
"Think I'm wet enough," you mumble, and he dips two fingers between your folds to confirm, and he is rewarded with enough arousal to forget about his worries.
As much as he wants to ravish you right now, he knows you would probably drift off to sleep if he makes love to you tenderly—so that's precisely what he does. He gently spreads your legs further with his thigh, allowing his cock to rest between your legs. It has almost become a routine for him to set aside your panties and gradually ease his cock inside you- a practice that you often do after he comes home late from his practice sessions.
A breathy moan escapes your lips at the stretch, and he feels his own body tensing at the sensation of your soft walls around him. He continues to push until he's fully inside of you. You always take him so well—it feels breathtaking to be buried deep inside you. He still hopes you'll succumb to sleep in this embrace, even though he's surely wide awake himself.
"Feels good," you hum, your breathing gradually returning to a steady rhythm. He pulls you closer, inhaling the soothing flowery scent of your hair- a scent that always brings him comfort and calms his mind when he can't seem to rest. You might not fully grasp how much he loves you—how every fiber of his being yearns for you, how he wishes for you to be happy and to be his. This is precisely why he plans to propose to you tomorrow and to place the ring back on your finger. You wouldn't refuse him on his birthday, would you?
"Sleep well, my love."
#haikyu x reader#haikyuu fanfiction#ushijima#ushijima smut#ushijima x reader#HAPPY BIRTHDAY! <3#it's now 1:30 am#I'm not used anymore to staying up late#so I definitely feel tired now T.T#I'll go to sleep now <3 SEE YOU TOMORROW! <3#I hope you enjoyed this!#I actually wrote a Suna fic yesterday#I planned to post it today#But i totally forgot about our birthday boys#So I'll try to write something for Aone tomorrow#so you'll get Suna in two days from now#It's part of the one night stand series#I might make it a series in the masterlist so I can have an overview xD#I don't even know who'll be next#I just go with my mood#I write when inspiration hist#*hits#ANYWAYS! <3#feel hugged and sleep well! <3#my brain is not functioning rn#GRRR
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