#It went a Direction

[banannabethchase]

Screamer - also on AO3

~

Nick and Lucha get caught having sex at the venue, and it makes him wonder what Lucha thinks of their arrangement.

~

Schrodinger's prompt fill. Oops. For Sarah's "lyric prompt during my own title search: "'Cause I'm a screamer, baby, make me a mute" (any nickship)." But I did not - I went a weird - this - alright. Well. Have this…thing.

~

Technically, it’s not Nick’s fault.

He relays this observation to Luchasaurus as they pull on their clothes.

“Are you really trying to suggest that you’re not the one who was screaming?”

Nick’s eyes linger on Lucha’s abs as he pulls his shirt on. He says a silent goodbye. “What?”

“You were the one screaming,” Lucha says. He adjusts his hair and mask. “Therefore, it was your fault.”

“Well, you made me scream,” Nick says. He’s antsy and uncomfortable from the interruption, the feeling of getting so close to what he wanted and losing it crawling into his spine. “Maybe next time do a better job of making me be quiet, then.”

Lucha’s grin goes devilish, enticing. Nick’s hard again in a second. “For next time, little bird. You and I both know Stokely is running straight to Tony to tell him he ran into someone fucking in the closet. You don’t want him to have the chance to confirm it’s us, do you?”

The answer is an emphatic no. Matt and Christian are the only ones who know Lucha and Nick are together. Nick thinks Matt alone is the only one to know they’re official.

“Right,” Nick says. “Right, yeah. But I’m still sure it was your fault.”

Lucha walks up to Nick and tilts his chin up. “I would be more cautious where you place blame, sweetheart. Karma will come to get you.”

Nick closes his eyes for a kiss, but it never comes. His eyes open to see an empty room and a wide open door.

~

“That’s why Mox and I only have sex in the hotel,” Matt says, mid yoga move. Nick is trying to figure out how his legs are working, where he’s holding his weight. “Less of a risk.”

Nick glances around to make sure nobody is listening in. “Jesus, be louder, will you?”

“We’re in a gym with millennials and gen z, Nicholas. You point out one person without headphones or ear buds and I’ll quiet down.”

A glance around the room proves Matt, annoyingly, right. Hook’s got his earbuds in as he wails on a heavy bag. Hangman is running at horse speeds on the treadmill, wearing the Boze headphones Nick had bought him for Christmas. Even Skye and Kyle, right next to each other, have their own headphones in as they compete to see who can do the most squats.

“Okay, yeah,” Nick says. “Fine. But now I’m worried Stokely’s going to be on the prowl, you know?”

“The easy solution is to stop fucking your dinosaur boyfriend at work.” Matt folds himself backward and over until he’s bending in a bridge on his toes and hands. “How’s my bridge? Do you think it’s good?”

“Mox’ll fuck you even if you couldn’t stand on one foot,” Nick says. As bendy as he is, his bridges never look like that. He’s suddenly hit with how much time Matt has been spending with the BCC. He’s even invited brought Adam with him once or twice, for reasons Nick hasn’t been willing to ask about. Yet.

“You don’t think Lucha’s the same?” Matt flips over and jumps to his feet, stretching to the sky. “He seems pretty obsessed with you.”

“Hasn’t even invited me to stay in his hotel room,” Nick says. “Maybe he only agreed when I called him my boyfriend because he wasn’t planning on saying it at all.” He deflates, flopping back onto the dirty hotel gym mats. “Maybe that’s why he won’t tell anyone.”

“None of that,” Matt says, and suddenly Nick’s breath is knocked out of him and there’s two hundred pounds of his old brother on top of him, smothering him in a hug. “You’ll figure it out. Don’t freak out.”

“I would love to be able to breathe.”

“I love you too, Nicky.”

“Not what I said.”

~

Nick flips his phone over for what must be the thirtieth time.

“Oh, my god, just text him,” Adam groans.

Nick jumps. “What? Who?”

“Your secret sex buddy,” Adam explains. “Don’t act like you’re surprised. We usually room next to each other.”

“You can hear me?!”

“Yeah,” Adam says. He doesn’t look disgusted, exactly. More confused. “Like, every time. You are loud as hell with whomever that is.”

Nick lets that sink in. His best friend has heard him have sex. Multiple times. Through hotel walls. It’s not a great revelation. “Oh,” he says quietly. “Great. That’s great.”

“Whoever you’re with is quiet as hell, though,” Adam muses. “He’s gotta be the only reason your weird secret relationship thing is working.”

“How do you know it’s a relationship?”

Adam’s eyes go soft, sweet. Knowing. “Because you’re Nick Jackson, and you fall in love with pretty much everyone you meet.”

“I’m not in love with him!” Nick argues. “I – okay, he’s my boyfriend, but, like –”

“You don’t have to explain it to me, Nick,” Adam says, his smile in the corners of his lips. “Just – tonight, try to keep it down. I’m exhausted. And tell your guy I’d love to meet him.” He reaches down and squeezes Nick’s shoulder. “Stay safe, Nicky.”

Nick nods as Adam walks off, more confused than before. His phone, textless, rests in his hands.

~

He fidgets for an hour backstage as the crew sets the ring up. He’s not going after Luchasaurus tonight. Lucha can come find him.

It’s agony.

“Alright.” Kenny sits down in front of Nick. “Talk to me. What’s your deal?”

“I don’t have a deal,” Nick says, adjusting his headset. “As you can see, I’m very busy.”

Kenny sighs. “The green light’s not even on and it’s, like almost an hour from show time.”

Nick shrinks. “Okay, fine, but there’s nothing to talk about.”

“You get dumped or something?” Kenny asks. “Did somebody tell you you’re not the prettiest boy in the universe?” He grins. “Someone say they like Matt more than you?”

“That happened once in 2016 and I made sure it would never happen again,” Nick quips back. “And no. I actually. I have a – a romantic issue?”

“They in a different promotion?” Kenny asks, making himself comfortable. “Bad service or something?”

Nick shakes his head. “No, they’re here.”

“Like, in the building?”

Nick nods.

“Then what are you waiting for!” Kenny exclaims. He leaps to his feet and slings a giant arm under one of Nick’s arms and hauls him to his feet. Like Nick is a rag doll. “Come on, let’s go find him.”

“I – no, I can’t talk to him!”

“Why not?” Kenny asks, yanking Nick along with him, “Is it somebody who speaks Spanish? Japanese? Don’t be racist. I can interpret for you.”

“I am not being racist – what the hell, Kenny?” Nick finally manages to wiggle out of Kenny’s grip. “Also, you don’t speak Spanish!”

“I’ve been practicing my Duolingo,” Kenny replies. “What language do you need to brush up on?”

“Dinosaur is not a language!”

Kenny’s smile goes softer, more calculated, and Nick process what he’s just said. “Oh, I thought that would work on you. So you are sleeping with Luchasaurus.”

Nick blinks. “I – no?”

“Liar,” Kenny says, skipping down the hallway. “What’s the problem? You catch feelings?”

“Not – okay, yes,” Nick says. He has to hustle to catch up with Kenny, still skipping. “But I can’t figure out if he thinks this is as serious as I do.”

“You talk about it?” Kenny asks, pulling open the door to the EVP room. “Contrary to popular opinion, communication is key.”

“Oh, don’t you dare start with that, of all people,” Nick says, rolling his eyes.

Kenny flops down in a chair. “Hey, guys. Did you know Nick is banging Luchasaurus?”

“Yes,” Matt says, yawning.

Adam, on the other hand, is currently dribbling water down the front of his shirt. “That’s ‘Daddy’?!”

Kenny slowly turns to Nick, who can feel himself blushing. “Um.”

“Daddy?” Matt asks, looking horrified as he stares at Adam.

“Look at your brother like that, not me!” Adam says. “Sorry for not enjoying being woken up to people screaming Daddy over and over again.”

Nick wonders how hard it would be to dig a hole in the floor and bury himself.

“Well, that’s a detail,” Matt says, a bit huffy. “Did you mean to tell Kenny, or was that -”

“He tricked me,” Nick says. “He tricked me into telling him.”

“Oh, don’t say it like that, Nicky.” Kenny’s smile is infuriating. “I outsmarted you.”

“That’s not better!”

Kenny shrugs and shuffles so he can get his head in Adam’s lap. “Tell us everything, man. We’re here to help.”

Half an hour later and fifteen from when they’re supposed to be getting ready, Nick’s no more clear on what to do than he was before Kenny says, “So just ask him to take you on a date.”

“I’ve told you,” Nick says. “It’s not like that. We’re – we’re boyfriends, but he doesn’t want to tell anyone, so it doesn’t count.”

“Did you ask him?” Adam asks.

He tits his head. “Ask him what?”

“Did you ask him why he’s not mentioning you to anyone else,” Adam shuffles until he’s sitting up, and Nick catches Kenny’s startled expression. “Or are you freaking out because you’re not communicating.”

“Okay, first off, you’re not allowed to say that because of how little you communicated for years,” Nick fires off. “Second, no. I have not.”

“You could go talk to him,” Matt suggests. He stands, pushing at Nick’s back. “After the match, you’ll talk to him.”

“But –”

“You will talk to him.” Matt’s staring at Nick like he’s trying to bore into Nick’s soul. “Just don’t screw up our match with the BCC, first. I have to prove to Mox we’re better than him. It’s a bet.”

“Noted,” Nick says, rolling his eyes. But he feels better, now that Kenny and Adam know.

The match goes off without a hitch – Adam gets the pin and Nick didn’t break any bones, so it’s pretty much as good as it goes. Mox spends the whole match and aftermath staring at Matt like a wolf stalking a sheep, and Adam and Yuta have a few too many moments that Nick wishes he hadn’t seen.

They stumble backstage, a bit bruised but nothing major.

“I’ll, uh,” Matt says, bright red all over. “I have to – ”

“You don’t have to tell us,” Nick says with a sigh. “Just go have sex with Mox and don’t make me hear it.”

Matt looks like he wants to argue, to say something, but he huffs and stomps off without another word. Adam snorts. Nick decides to ignore that.

“Alright,” Kenny says, patting Nick on the back. “Go talk to your dinosaur.”

Nick looks up to fight, but then Adam and Kenny fold their arms across their chests.

“Don’t look at me like you’re my dads,” he grumbles, but he finds himself walking toward the TNT champion locker room and knocking before he can think better of it.

He knocks, and feels the anxiety build in his chest.

Christian opens the door and rolls his eyes. “Dinosaur! Your little boyfriend’s here.”

Nick shouldn’t feel all fuzzy at that, but he does. It’s the first time anyone but him has said it.

Christian shoulders past him and Nick stumbles just a little bit, righting himself just in time for Luchasaurus to step to the door.

“Hi, there, little bird,” Lucha says. He plants his hands on Nick’s waist and pulls him in, kissing him so intentionally Nick’s brain goes a bit fireworky.

“I – wait,” Nick says. “I want to talk.”

He didn’t think he could see another person’s face fall so completely. “Oh,” Luchasaurus says. He drops his hands from Nick’s waist. “Yes.”

“Yes?” Nick asks. “Yes what?”

Lucha shrugs. “I knew you would reconsider one day.”

“Reconsider?” Nick says. “What would I reconsider?”

Luchasaurus guides them to the little couch in the room and sits them down. “Our arrangement.” He’s strangely controlled, careful.

Nick tries to piece together the words, the context, something to make it make sense. “What about our arrangement?”

“About how this is a fling for you.”

Nick doesn’t miss the clarifier – for you. It takes a second, but, slowly, the realization sinks in. “You think I consider this a fling?”

Luchasaurus shrugs. “You’ve thrown the word boyfriend around, but only in the heat of the moment.”

“Heat of the – you thought I asked you to be my boyfriend in a horny fugue state?” Nick’s baffled. He’s baffled and delighted and spinning. “No, I asked you because I want you to be my boyfriend!”

Luchasaurus blinks behind the mask, then steps to the door and locks it. “You’re saying you’d be interested in a real relationship?”

“I thought we already in one.” Nick fiddles with his fingertips, feeling like his skin doesn’t fit right. “Just – one that you didn’t want to talk about.”

Luchasaurus pulls his mask off, and Nick has to adjust to it. His face is soft, free of paint. He looks more human than Nick’s ever seen him. “Nicholas,” he says gently, making his way to sit on the couch. “I would cry your name from the rooftops if I thought you wanted me to.”

Nick can’t help it. He dives in and kisses Luchasaurus, unable to put into words what he wants. Lucha seems to get it though. He wraps his arms around Nick and holds him tight, like he’s scared to let go.

He pulls back first, leaving Nick’s head spinning. “Little bird, are you sure about this?”

“Am I – of course I’m sure!” Nick exclaims. “Lucha, the first night we had sex I had to call Matt freaking out because I knew I had fall – I knew I liked you too much.” He pauses. “The only time this was a fling was before we kissed.”

Lucha pulls him back down for a kiss, this one quicker, and pulls away. “Does this mean we’re telling people?” He brushes Nick’s hair over his shoulder. “Are we – official?”

“We’re official,” Nick says. “I – I want to – I want to go to HR and fill out stupid paperwork and ask you to get me soda from the fridge when we hang out.”

Lucha nods, a smile spreading across his face. His features without the mask are so much softer, sweeter. Nick shivers, thinking about how this version of Luchasaurus is all his. They don’t have the time for anything – Lucha’s got a title match at the top of the hour and Nick won’t be the one to make him late – so Nick leaves with a lingering kiss as he goes back to gorilla, floating.

“You look happy,” Matt says, adjusting something. A call sheet, probably. “You finally talk to your boyfriend?”

Nick nods. “I’m gonna watch him for Rampage. We’re – it’s for real now.” He has to control his breath to make sure he doesn’t get overexcited, doesn’t hyperventilate. “We’re boyfriends.”

Matt sets down his papers silently. Before Nick can do anything, Matt’s wrapped him in a giant, bone crushing hug. “I’m so happy for you, Nick,” he mumbles into Nick’s neck. “Also, now you can stop calling me in the middle of the night. I can sleep!”

“It would be great if you could be not a bitch for, like, five seconds.”

Matt pulls back, smiling. “Impossible.”

Luchasaurus wins his match, obviously, and Nick watches from the side of the stage as closely as he can. They’re official, sure. But he’d rather be the one to tell the press than for somebody to catch him staring and put the puzzle pieces together on their own.

He’s nearly vibrating as he meets Luchasaurus backstage. “You did great,” he says, breathless. “You did amazing.”

Lucha leans down and kisses him on the top of the head. In front of Tony. In front of Doc. In front of Matt, Kenny, crew members. Despite how innocent it is, it almost feels illicit.

Then he leans down and presses his lips to Nick’s, so gently it feels like a habit. “I’ll see you later at our hotel room.”

Nick nods as Lucha walks off.

“Dude,” Kenny says. “Dude, he loves you.”

Nick beams. “I think he does.”

~

He doesn’t realize until he gets back to the hotel that Luchasaurus meant ‘our’ literally – he’s left a request at the front desk to close out his own hotel room in favor of staying with Nick.

“Sure, he can have a key,” Nick says, eyes flicking over to Lucha. He’s not smiling, exactly, but his expression is mild. Nick thinks he likes Lucha best without the mask, somehow.

“Wonderful,” the desk clerk says, clicking some keys on her computer. “We have to check, of course. Never want to give a requested key to a person with ulterior motives.” She looks up and catches her eye on Lucha’s tattoos, his braids.

Nick fights the urge to say that he likes Lucha’s ulterior motives, and instead takes Lucha’s hand as they go from elevator to the hallway to the door.

“I need to go collect my things from my other room,” Lucha says, lips right by Nick’s ear. “I expect you naked and ready for me by the time I return.”

Nick’s response is a high pitched whine, and he’s suddenly incredibly glad he’d showered before leaving the venue.

He sprints into the bedroom and rips his clothes off, throwing himself down on the bed. The anticipation feels like another layer of clothing he can’t peel off, so he grabs the lube off the bedside and gets started.

He’s two fingers deep inside of himself when the door swings open.

“Nicholas,” Luchasaurus says. “I hope you’ve followed instructions.”

“I – oh – I have,” Nick says back. “Come see.”

Luchasaurus turns on the light. Nick hopes he looks good, spread out on the bed fucking himself on his own fingers. The way Luchasaurus licks his lips and pulls off his own shirt makes him think he does.

“God, you’re such a pretty thing, aren’t you?” Lucha dives onto the bed. Nick begrudgingly pulls his fingers out, leaving himself empty, but it’s worth it when Luchasaurus kisses Nick hard enough to make his head spin.  When he pulls away, his eyes are burning hot into Nick’s. “I need you.”

Nick nods, hands scrambling to the bedside table. He pauses as he closes around the condom packet. “Do we – it’s been no one but you for months,” Nick says. “Only you.”

Lucha’s face turns sunshine sweet. “Only you as well, little bird.” He takes the condom and sets it on the bedside table. “I look forward to feeling all of you.”

Nick nods. “I’m ready. I opened myself up for you, like you said.”

“I want you to know I meant naked,” Lucha says with a low chuckle. “My, my, aren’t you an obedient little thing.” He leans down, sucks a mark into Nick’s neck that has him arching into it.

“Yours,” Nick gasps. “Yours.”

“Mine,” Lucha agrees. He gently pushes Nick’s thighs apart and slides his hand to Nick’s hole, finding him open and, god, just one finger is good but not good enough. “So good for me.”

Nick wiggles his hips. “I’m ready, all of you,” he pleads. “Fuck me.”

“I will, baby,” Luchasaurus says. He arranges Nick’s legs, and guides himself inside of Nick. “God, you always feel so good.”

Nick nods, head spinning. “You too,” he mumbles. “I – please.”

“Can’t be too loud, though,” Lucha muses, the drag of his cock out cruelly slow. “Don’t want to wake your friends.”

“Screw it,” Nick says. “Make me scream. I don’t care.”

“Be careful what you ask for. You just might get it.”

Get it he does. Lucha fucks him so hard he has to brace his hands on the headboard, careful to keep his fingers away from the wall as the headboard slams into the wall. He cries Lucha’s name, Daddy, and even once baby, which surprises even himself. Lucha kisses him so long at that Nick’s head spins in need of oxygen, but he doesn’t care. He wants and needs and makes all the noise he wants, because this is his. It doesn’t matter who knows. It doesn’t matter if they hear him saying Lucha’s name, or if they hear Lucha saying his.

This is real.

He comes with a final scream of, “Daddy, yes!” and feels Luchasaurus fill him up not to long after. It feels like a mark, a brand, a claim, like this is real. Like this means they’re going to last.

Lucha half collapses on top of Nick with a hard exhale, arms bracketing Nick’s head. “Calling you my boyfriend is quite the change,” he says. He winds some of Nick’s hair around his fingertips, eyes glancing from Nick’s lips to his eyes. “I can’t wait to tell everyone.”

“We’ll do it tomorrow,” Nick says, trailing his finger up and down Lucha’s chest. Lucha rolls to the side.  “First thing. But, tonight, let’s just rest.”

“Of course.” Luchasaurus kisses the top of his forehead.

Nick’s cozy and comfortable. He’s trying to convince himself to go clean up in the bathroom when there’s a banging on the wall.

“Are you guys done?!” Adam shouts through the wall. Lucha’s eyes go wide as he meets Nick’s. “Because I’d really like to sleep.”

“We’re good,” Nick yells back.

“Congratulations, by the way,” Adam yells back. “Hi, Luchasaurus.”

“Hi, Hangman.”

Nick dissolves into giggles. “Oops.”

“You sing a little too loudly, little bird,” Lucha chuckles, and they laugh into each other’s skin.

~

Mini Playlist: Claws - Kim Petras Lock Me Up - The Cab I Could Get Used to This - The Veronicas Flesh - Simon Curtis

#LuchasaurNick #WELP #Two for two of fics to finish this weekend #Here we goooooo! #in which sara writes #wtf i like wrestling now??? #Nicrowlas #This one is #It went a Direction #That I did not expect

[livixbobbiex]

You know what's fun?

They seem to have made Percy more on the inattentive end of ADHD than hyperactive. Aside from the capture the flag scene, we mostly just see him zoning out, 'daydreaming', the line "I don't think it's the marshmallow's fault I never pay attention".

ADHD barely gets good representation as it is, but I don't think I've ever seen the inattentive type in media like this before. This is going to be huge for a lot of people who don't fall under the hyperactive stereotype umbrella.

I'm just really excited that more people will get the chance to see themselves.

#percy jackson #I'm actually combined type so this doesn't fully apply to me #But y'all inattentives arguably get the short end of the stick a lot of the time #So I'm genuinely thrilled for you #and that they went this direction #especially since hyperactive is probably easier to portray as adhd and have the audience get it #percy jackon and the olympians #adhd

[inkskinned]

the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.

three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.

two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.

their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.

one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.

i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.

i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.

and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?

you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.

a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.

someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.

#writeblr #warm up #this is longer than i wanted i really considered removing that part about myself and what i went thru #but i think it really fucking bothers me that EVERY time i talk about being an artist #ppl assume i just like. had the skill and ability to drop everything and pay for grad school. #like sir i grew up poor. my house wasn't a safe space. i gave up a FREE RIDE TO LAW SCHOOL. for THIS. bc i chose it. #was it fucking hard? was i choosing the hard thing?? yes. #but we need to stop seeing artists as lazy layabouts that can ''afford'' to just ''sit around and create'' #when MANY - if not MOST - of us are NOT like that. we have to work our fucking ASSES off. hard work. long and hard work #part of valuing artists is recognizing the amount we sacrifice to make our art. bc it doesn't just #like HAPPEN to us. also btw it rarely has anything to do with true talent. #speaking as someone with a chronic condition i hate when ppl are like u have it easy. like actively as i'm writing this my hands r #ACTIVELY hurting me. i haven't been posting bc my left hand was curled in a claw for the last week #this isn't fucking luck. after a certain point it's not even TALENT. it's dedication & sacrifice. #''u get to flounce around and do nothing with ur life'' is a narrative that is a direct result of capitalism #imagine if we said that about literally any other profession. #''oh so u give up 10 yrs of ur life to be a doctor? u sacrifice having a social life and u get SUPER in debt? #u need to work countless hours and it will often be thankless? well i wish i was that lucky'' #we should be applying that logic to landlords ONLY #''oh ur mom and dad gave u the money to buy a house? and all u did was paint it white and rent it? huh.''

[ym523]

#bloodweave #ym523art #ymrequest #gale x astarion #spawn gale #inspired from a scene from fellow travellers #this went so random in a few directions and was actually meant to be another pairing but it didn't really suit #nsft ish

[cupid-styles]

bodyguardrry x stripper!y/n?

pink pony club

in which harry is a bodyguard at the club y/n dances at

word count: 2.8k

content warnings: spicy content, minor violence, a small unwanted touching scene, smut (thigh riding, spitting, dirty talk, breast play, one "sir" mention, minor slapping......I think that's it gkdfjgkjd)

masterlist | talk to me

. . .

Harry doesn’t care much about his job.

He’s not all that interested in working night shifts that start at 8:30 p.m. and don’t end until 4 a.m. He’s not tempted by the constant flow of alcohol, the endless lines of powder that decorate the bartop and booth tables, and the half — and sometimes fully — naked girls that make their money by twirling around oiled up stripper poles and sweet-talking businessmen. 

His job as a bodyguard is simply a means to an end. A paycheck. A way to survive. 

Unless Y/N is working.

The second she started at Pink Pony Club, it felt as if his world brightened up. She emitted an effervescent pink hue everywhere she went, bathing Harry in it with her bright smile and sweet eyes. He’s always kept a special eye on her — while he didn’t care for the logistics of his job, he took the safety of the dancers seriously, and Y/N was no exception. In fact, maybe she was the exception. 

He was the only dancer he watched. She was the only one he spoke to. His pretty, shy, pink girl. 

When she took one-on-one dances in the Red Room, he was the guard she asked to accompany her. He never minded. No, he dropped everything to be there with her, even if it meant standing there stoically, watching as she grinded on the lap of a man that would tip her too little. 

If it were him, he would never take her perfect presence for granted. 

He would sit back and let her take her time. Shower her in every compliment his brain could churn out. He’d comply with the strict no touching rule, but god, if his hands wouldn’t tremble at his sides. He’d have to sit on them to stop himself from doing something stupid.

Sometimes, it’s what he wished those grimy men would do. Like this piece of shit, who’s been shelling out hundred after hundred dollar bills to keep Y/N locked away in the Red Room all night. It’s been hours and the guy can barely keep his head up straight. From Harry’s spot in front of the door, he can tell Y/N’s tired and in need of a break. And when the song comes to a crawling end, he’s ready to step in and tell the guy to get lost, but he’s already digging in his pocket for his wallet. Harry grits his teeth as he watches Y/N’s shoulders fall. 

“Another one,” the idiot mutters, stuffing three hundred dollars in the waistband of her panties. Y/N jerks away from his touch and the man stills, flashing her a confused expression. “What? I’ve paid you your entire yearly salary tonight and I can’t put some fuckin’ money in your panties?”

Harry’s fists ball up at his sides, already taking heavy strides towards them as Y/N’s mumbling out, “you’re not allowed to touch the girls.”

“Oh, give me a fuckin’ break,” he wails, sending a look of disbelief to Harry, as if he should agree with him. “This girl’s a cocktease!”

Harry snorts and Y/N shuffles off the man’s lap. He stands in front of her, creating a physical barrier between the two. 

“You heard her, you’re not allowed to touch any of the girls. Doesn’t matter how much money you’ve paid.” Harry says, crossing his arms over his chest. “Are you gonna get lost or are we gonna have a problem?”

The guy rolls his eyes. “You’re telling me you’re always here watching over this one and you’ve never once copped a feel? She’s out with her fuckin’ ass and tits out and you—”

He doesn’t get a chance to finish whatever disgusting sentence was coming out of his mouth because Harry’s already pulling him up by the shirt collar. The guy yelps as Harry’s strong grip yanks him off the couch and he scoffs, resisting the urge to spit in his face.

“Disgusting piece of shit.” he mutters, throwing him up against the maroon velvet wall. “You know that? You think you can fucking talk about her like she’s some kind of object?”

“She’s a stripper!” he exclaims, raising his hands up in mock defense. 

“I don’t fucking care,” Harry growls, “She could be an escort for all I care, but you don’t touch anyone without their fucking permission. Especially her. Do you fucking hear me?”

“Yeah, man, whatever! It’s all good, I promise!”

“Oh, it’s all good?” he mocks, keeping him pushed up against the wall with his hand up against his chest. His other arm cocks back and his hand forms a tight fist, his knuckles white as hot adrenaline courses through his veins. He’s ready to beat this guy until he’s unrecognizable — until he hears it. 

A small, quiet whimper of his name. 

Immediately, he turns around. Y/N stands behind him, looking small and helpless with glassy eyes. Again, she repeats his name. “Harry,” she says, shaking her head. “It’s not worth it, I don’t wanna lose my job. Just let him go.”

And just like that, he does.

He lowers his fist, his hand unfurls around the cheap fabric of his button-up, and he’s free to go, scrambling out of the Red Room before Harry has the chance to tell the other bodyguards to escort him out. But he doesn’t care. All he cares about is the teary eyed girl with trembling fingers. 

“Baby,” he breathes, fear surging through his chest as he wraps a tender arm around her waist. He sits onto the crushed velvet bench and pulls her into his lap, keeping a soothing hand placed at the small of her waist. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

She quickly shakes her head, allowing the tears to flow a bit more freely now. “I-I’m okay. Just scary.”

“I know,” he mumbles, biting his lip. “Was it— did I scare you?”

“No, no. I know you were just… trying to protect me.” she says softly, blinking her eyes at him.

“I was, sweetheart. I promise. I would never do anything to hurt or scare you.”

She nods. “I know.”

“How much longer do you have left of your shift? I can take you home. You shouldn’t be working when you’re upset.”

Y/N glances down at the watch around Harry’s wrist, nibbling on her bottom lip as she thinks. It’s already 2, which means the club closes in less than three hours.

“Just another hour. I can make it,” she replies as she straightens her posture in his grasp. “I’m just… I don’t think I’m ready to go back out there yet.”

“That’s fine. We can stay here as long as you’d like.” And he’d certainly knock out anyone who threatened to give her shit for it.

They sit in silence for a bit and Harry keeps a protective arm looped around her waist the entire time, drawing soft circles into her exposed hip. He feels relief at knowing that she doesn’t express discomfort at being in his arms and frankly, if it were up to him, she’d never leave them.

Harry’s torn from his thoughts when she runs her fingers over the expanse of tattoos that cover his arms. Glancing down, he watches as her manicured nails slowly float from the anchor on his wrist all the way up to the ship on his bicep. He swallows, staying impossibly still as she analyzes the ink. Eventually, she lands on the cursive A on his shoulder.

“Girlfriend?” she asks, peering up at him. He shakes his head.

“Mum,” he murmurs, “Do you have any tattoos?”

Y/N nods. “One.”

Harry’s tongue peeks out to moisten his lips as he maintains heavy-lidded eye contact with her. He’s seen nearly every bit of her skin and prickles form in his stomach, thinking about where her hidden tattoo could be. 

“What is it?”

Slowly, she shifts off of his lap to stand in front of him. Using deft fingertips to peel the waistband of her lacey lingerie down, she reveals a simple red rose inked into her skin, just above where her mound begins. Harry swallows harshly at the sight. 

“Do you like it?” 

Harry huffs out a laugh. “Gorgeous.” he mumbles.

“I was thinking about getting another one,” she breathes as she shimmies the fabric just a bit lower. She taps the small patch of skin across from the rose. “An H, maybe.”

“That would be a silly decision, sweetheart,” he says lowly, leaning back against the bench and spreading his legs a little wider. “You don’t want an initial for the guy who beats up idiot losers.”

“I do, though. I love knowing you’re there to protect me.” she replies. Briskly, she climbs back into his lap, this time straddling his waist and placing her knees on either side of him. As if on instinct, he wraps his arms around her to steady her, pressing one palm to the back of her thigh. 

“I’ll always be there to protect you,” he mumbles, chest tightening as she leans closer. Her lips are centimeters away and it makes his breath catch in his throat. His throat bobs as he swallows, angling his head ever so slightly to minimize the small gap between them, and then he whispers: “Stop me if it’s too much.”

“It’s not,” she’s so close to him that her breath ghosts over his plush lips, “Kiss me. Please.”

That’s all he needs to seal their lips, her shaky hands finding purchase at the back of his neck. It feels so special to have her hands on him as their lips meld; slowly at first, and then she’s straightening her back to push her chest forward, desperate to be closer, closer, closer. 

It feels like their only source of oxygen is coming from one another. Harry’s hands grip her ass firmly, squeezing the plump skin in his palms. He’s content with keeping things here at a steady PG-13 level until her wet mouth breaks away for just a moment, only long enough to murmur, “touch me, I need it.”

A groan oscillates from his throat as his hands travel down to her neck, her shoulders, her chest, and then finally her breasts. His hands find the covered peaks of her nipples and she inhales sharply, shuddering beneath his touch. He smirks as he settles on the right side of her chest, using his thumb to gently brush over her nipple. She straightens her spine and leans into the sensation as he slowly rubs it back and forth. 

"Always gonna keep you safe. You know that?” Harry mumbles into her mouth, licking at the seam of her lips. Her eyes squeeze shut and her thighs threaten to close around his wide, spread legs. “Uh-huh,” she nearly whines. He swallows as he watches her, noticing her quick descent into desperation. He gives her nipple a soft squeeze before quickly pausing to unhook her bra and toss it to the floor. He resumes his teasing just a moment later, leaning forward and attaching his lips to the hard bud. A quiet, shaky mewl falls from her swollen lips. He parts with a pop but only to spit messily onto the peak. She gasps when he takes her nipple into his mouth again, hissing as he bites the skin. It’s not hard or long enough to elicit any real pain, just a sweet sizzle in her stomach that makes her tug at the curled ends of his hair. He chuckles softly at her reaction before licking over the bite and tucking the bud back between his lips. Once he’s gotten his fix, he removes his hand from her breast and moves it up to her mouth. "Open." he commands. As if under a spell, her bottom lip drops open and Harry pushes two of his fingers inside, pressing them down against her tongue. "Dirty little mouth, hm?" He murmurs. She nods submissively and he grins, "Suck." She closes her lips, encasing his long fingers in her mouth as she begins to slowly bob up and down, taking them further. His fingertips make contact with her throat, eliciting a short gag as the muscles contract slightly around them. Quickly, he removes them. "Did I hurt you?" She shakes her head and reaches up to wipe away some of the drool that had escaped her mouth. "No. I like it." "Are you lying, baby?" He asks, moving her hair over her shoulder, "This isn't fun for me if you're just doing what you think I want." "I'm not lying, I promise. I like it." Harry's lips curl into a smirk. "Tell me what else you like, then." As she opens her mouth, he shifts his thigh between her legs, the muscles flexing firmly against her core. She gasps, though Harry pretends like he hadn't done anything, instead nodding at her shortly; an encouragement to follow his directions. "I like gagging on your fingers." She whines as he begins to move his thigh back and forth, just slow enough to create some friction between their bodies. "Yeah? What else do you like?" "You," she whimpers, gently rocking her hips against his jean-clad thigh, "When you keep me safe.” "Ah, my pretty baby likes feeling protected?” She nods as she begins to quicken my movements. He stills her hips but before she has a chance to whine about it, he mumbles out a "budge up, baby" so he can slip her panties off her legs. She resists the urge to hiss at the contact, her stomach tightening at the feeling of his thigh muscle against her. For a moment, he inspects the sodden underwear, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “You made quite the mess in these, baby. What got you so turned on?” She swallows harshly, her chest shaky. “Y-you. Seeing you threaten that guy for me.” He smirks but decides to leave it at that, feeling the desperate warmth radiating from her core. "Go 'head," he mumbles, leaning back. "Let me see you use me." She feels her hole contract at his words, mentally cringing as he chuckles. He feels how needy she is and he absolutely loves it. Slowly, she starts to grind against his thigh, holding in pathetic whimpers at the solid surface making contact with her clit. Harry tsks when he notices her roll her lips into her mouth. She looks down as he moves his hand towards her lower half, momentarily excited that he’ll pet at her the way she’s craving. The dream is short lived when he parts her pussy lips instead to look at the wet mess between them. "Don't hide your sounds," he scolds, pressing the pad of his fingertip to her clit, rolling it in small circles. "They're too pretty.”

She nods, prepared to continue her movements when she gasps out in surprise. Harry had delivered a swift slap to her clit — not painful enough to ask him to stop, but just enough to deliver a sizzling sensation to her core. "Tell me you'll moan for me." "I will, sir," she whines, rutting helplessly against his hand. He smirks and pinches the skin at her inner thigh before nodding again, a wordless order to continue. Hesitantly, she rocks her hips, building up a slow and intentional pace that hits her clit at the perfect angle. She’s dripping now, embarrassingly so, and making a mess both between their legs and on Harry's, but she’s too turned on to care. There’s something about knowing he’s watching her get off and doing exactly what he asks of her that sends her to another dimension. It’s not long before she feels a familiar tightening in her stomach. They’d built each other up and up and up, teasing one another until they could barely stand it, so she’s not surprised when her muscles started to clench, pathetic gasps falling from her swollen lips. "Is my good girl gonna cum?" Harry teases from beneath her. She nods jerkily, her nails digging into his stomach. "Let me see. Cum all over my leg, baby. Make a mess." Harry's dirty talk is finally what does her in. With a few more rocks of her hips, she’s in heaven, whimpering out calls of his name as she peaks. He holds her hips to keep me on his leg as she bounces helplessly through her orgasm, her eyes slowly blinking open to find a smirk on his face when she finally begins coming down. "You're heaven sent, y'know that?" he mumbles. Y/N laughs breathily as she shakes her head, her blushy gaze falling to his lap. He thumbs at her bottom lip and gently nudges her chin up. “Lemme take you home tonight,” he whispers, cupping her cheek in his palm, “I wanna take care of you.” She nods. “Yeah, okay. You’ll wait for me to finish my shift?” “Of course,” he murmurs as he presses his forehead against hers. “Always.”

#writing #harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fan fic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles one direction #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #hary styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #one direction #fine line #harry's house #bodyguardrry #i went through ridiculous things to post this #i hope you all like it lmao

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

No time to play. You are being sent away.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

#poorly drawn mdzs #mdzs #yu ziyuan #jiang yanli #jiang cheng #wei wuxian #Do you know how hard it was to *not* do a 'Sold To One Direction' spoof comic? It took nearly all my will power. #Mostly because it misaligns a little too far off from the canon events and vibes. #But sit with me for a moment. Consider it: #“BEEP BEEP BEEP. I threw my pillow at my alarm clock. ”Wei Wuxian get your lazy ass downstairs!“ Yu Ziyuan yelled. #I ran to the bathroom and looked in the mirror to see my grey orbs staring back at me. #I put my long straight black hair in a ponytail with a red ribbon. #I went downstairs to see my adoptive mother holding a bottle of vodka and a cigarette. #'Listen up whore! I need money to pay the bills so I sold you. Your new owners will be here any minute so go pack!' #I stormed upstairs. There was no way I was going to let her sell me to a creepy old man! #I decided to run away. Since I'm not like other girls I don't have very many friends. #My gay friend Lan Zhan was mean but he lived like a block away. #As I opened the door I saw Wen Chao blocking the door. 'Ello Love. We're your new owners!' #I rolled my eyes and pushed him. 'Aren't you from that stupid Wen Sect? There's no way in hell I'm going with you!' #Hey again. It's me the OP of this blog taking a pause. I haven't actually read this story before aside from the memes #and I am honestly reeling from how this watpad fic chapter ends. What do you mean one of the one direction boys chloroforms her??? #Chapter 2 is so much worse #Why is there such a strong focus on the *eyes* of every boy!!! #This fanfic is a horror story actually. I came into it trying to make a funny parody but I got in over my head. Dear God. #It's me again. Several minutes have passed and I'm on chapter 4. What the FUCK is going on here? #I feel like I opened up pandora's box hoping for a fun little treat and got the plauge upon me. Dont read this fic.

[bacchuschucklefuck]

she turns, makes direct eye contact with you, smiles,

#dimension 20 #fantasy high junior year #fhjy #fhjy spoilers #kristen applebees #kipperlilly copperkettle #buddy dawn #cw: blood #cw: gore #cw: violence #hello this is the first post on this blog. welcome. I need to offload my art somewhere outside of my usual sphere #anyways yeah. yeah #I just think making direct eye contact with the person your murder victim is supposed to mirror before murdering them is kinda vibe #thinking abt kipperlily and kristen and how kipperlily was meant to be riz's foil but #genuinely kristen works so much better as foil for her instead. like how would beardsley ever not have swooped in to steal this off of #murph's plate. order vs chaos. embracing the rules vs rejecting them for having always fallen through the crack by your nature #so my busted ass brain saw this moment of kipperlily KILLING kristen's foil and I went insane like she took him out of the equation #HE is no longer kristen's foil. KIPPERLILY is now. deranged I need to draw this Immediately #kristen seeing kipperlily with true sight... smiling at her..... the interference that now narratively connects them do you see #can anyone hear me. hello

[myststone]

YES RIJU YES

Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you the Eighth Heroine

#Ladies and Gentlemen #I present to you the 8th Herione #Zelda #TotK #DUAL WIELDING #YOU DON'T #WANNA #MESS #AHASKLGHAKSLDHGA;KLS #Nintendo #Tears of the Kingdom #Direct #Loz #Botw #Botw 2 #Yes #Yeoajsopjasidf #SHE'S GROWING INTO HER OWN #HAHHAHGDHAHHA #THE POWERS LINK HAD WENT TO THEIR DESCENDANTS #NOT ONLY DOES THAT MAKE SO MUCH SENSE BUT IT'S SO BEAUTIFUL #AJSEKGLJASLKGHALKSHGSA

[rambles-about-minecraft-ocs]

one of my favorite things about zedaph is that on a server full of people that find strange and oft-overlooked minecraft mechanics or rare events and then see just how far they can push them in the name of spectacle or efficiency or world-breaking, zed is over here finding these mechanics in order to do the weirdest things he can think of in as entertaining a manner as possible

like i 100% have faith in zedaph's theoretical ability to be just as efficient or spectacular or world-breaking. if he wanted to do that stuff, i trust that he absolutely could. but thats so far from being his priority. instead, hes going to spend around a week of irl time focused entirely on eventually having the good luck to spawn in something insanely rare so that he can convert it into something even rarer, the result of which being something that 99% of the server reacts with complete and utter shock that it even exists in the first place, just because its zany and funny and he wanted to. and i love that

#zedaph #hermitcraft #genuinely i adore the clucky few project im not even done watching the episode and i had to pause and make this post #i saw impulses video first and went ''that HAS to be some sort of datapack or something-'' #only to immediately go ''no. no it cant be. because this is zed #and its practically a trademark of his to push the limits of the game as far as possible in the direction least expected #not for the purpose of efficiency or spectacle or intimidation or whatever like some players who push limits #but purely for the purpose of making something so funny you cant help but laugh at whats going on #and maybe being a bit impressed that he ever thought of it in the first place'' #at which point i went ''holy shit. since its zed doing this. somehow he ACTUALLY got a villager on a chicken. with no cheats. thats INSANE' #i was relieved when i checked my subscriptions to see what the next video i had to watch was and saw he would be next in line #bc if i had to sit through 19 other hermits videos before i could watch his and find out what the fuck he was doing i would have been so sa #sidenote but i feel like a zed video where he interacts with this many other people all in the same video is so rare #idk i didnt watch season 9 and i know he started collabing a lot more w/ other hermits then #so maybe its not nearly as rare these days #but like the last one that *i* saw where he interacted with this many people at once was towards the end of season 8 #when all the people he experimented on earlier in the season came back to experiment on him #and like i would like zeds videos with or without the collabs. but its a lot of fun to see him interact with people #so its very cool to me when he does it with a lot of people all in the same video

[medusaspeach]

The Shadow (Chiron & Achilles)

#greek mythology #achilles #illustration #greek myth #artists on tumblr #chiron #medusa's peach #honestly this kind of went in a different direction #but i just went with it #asjdajk i keep editing this sorry

[ingoodjesst]

have you put the pieces together yet, detective

#goro akechi #akechi goro #persona 5 #persona 5 royal #p5 akechi #p5 spoilers #persona 5 fanart #jesst some art #i may have worked on this for... just under two weeks? i had like. so many fckgin thoughts i might make a process/concept breakdown post #it's honestly just for my own peace (haha piece) of mind because i overthought about. SosoooOoOo many motifs and symbols and i just wanna #idk PUT EM ALL somewhere........ maybe it'll become its own jessay of mine. god. who can say. #also DUDE tumblr rly does crunch up quality wow ouch #unironically a core thematic inspiration for this piece is a quote from the folding ideas' video 'the nostalgia critic and the wall' #'it doesn't all make sense or resolve or coalesce because we don't all make sense' #'everyone is the illusion of order constructed brick by brick out of chaos' #i've watched that video essay through at least. a dozen times at this point. everything about it. yeah. it's good. #this piece initially went many different directions and i have realized ah yes to fully explore just THESE themes that i'm interested in as #they relate to goro akechi i will need to draw. at least two more pieces. sdlfhsdlkfjsd

[littlemoonglow]

Warning: Long post?

—

Jason did not expect his ghost form to feel…like this.

(Oh, dealing with his body randomly phasing through the ground and smacking his face onto hard concrete was not fun, but Jason dealt with that just like with every other hurdle in his life. By being more stubborn than the problem itself.)

It felt like something… settled into place. That was the best way he could describe it.

He felt as if spite and anger were finally not the only things keeping him awake and running. 

He felt calm, almost. Stable, at least. Whatever pent up energy that was stuck in his chest cavity now flowed freely throughout his body, redistributed, instinctually easier to manage.

It's almost like he could breathe a little bit easier.

(After much… ranting that Jason decided to ignore for his own sanity, Danny said that his case ectoplasmic corruption was probably due to the fact that Death, as a concept, doesn’t let go of things easily, time shenanigans notwithstanding.)

(Becoming a half-ghost was seemingly the only working compromise.)

—

Danny once told him that broad strokes of a ghost’s personality could be guessed by looking at their physical appearance. 

Despite the cool powers, this was a slight downside. Jason dealing with the filth of the Earth meant that being to hide his emotions and who he is was kind of important. Life saving, even.

He realized later on that his ghost form was way too easy to read.

—

He looked at his arms covered in bandages, and got reminded of the amount of times he had to patch himself up in the last month.

His jacket was ripped in place he knew that would have been sewn together when he was a living breathing human (well, as much as he could be).

He always looked slightly on fire?

(Danny told him it's probably related to his... core?)

(He know he died in an explosion but really?)

And then, there was his… veil? Shroud? Cloak?

It looked really nice.

But on the other hand…

It drooped when he felt under the weather. It flicked and thrashed around when he’s either irritated or barely holding back his urge to headshot someone.

And—

(No Danny, my cloak was not fucking wagging when you brought me fresh ectoplasm last week, you’ll have to get your goddamn eyes checked—)

He'll deny it until the day he dies (a second time).

And then his cloak could sometimes just…grow bigger. He figured that it acted as an extension of his own body, and had a nice add-on of allowing him to sense things he couldn't see. Hell, he could even make a hand out of it (wacking Danny with it - gently - never gets old). Jason had to also admit it looked cool, with the wispy bits and with one of its sides becoming a bright yellow.

(It reminded him a bit of his time as Robin.)

—

Being a ghost had a lotta perks.

Dealing with targets was so much easier when no one could see you. Inflitration was so much simpler when walls became optional. Cameras will glitch out when he's around, he left no traces visible to the naked eye and, combined with his training, to say that it was useful would be an understatement.

But, sometimes, he feels like he’s changing as well the more he transforms. Not drastically, but enough for him to look back and notice.

He usually was someone who prided on being efficient and straight to the point.

But now he’s starting to… have fun.

He started using his claws whenever he could. Don't het him wrong, he still uses his guns plenty, but there was just something deeply satisfying about vaulting over things, scaling a wall or crawling on the ceiling with bare hands. 

(Punching people is still the most satisfying by far, though.)

That one time hunting down the Joker wannabes was fun too.

(Danny said he’d get along great with Skulker? Did Jason want to find out? No.)

Fading in and out of invisibility, he picked them off one by one, watching as panic and dread slowly but surely creeped up on the remaining ones.

(After all, he has no respect for those trying to emulate the dead clown.)

—

(Yeah, the Joker was dead.)

(Surprisingly, that has not been a good day.)

—

One of the favorite things he liked to do was rooftop parkour. The… bendability of gravity is… fun, not gonna lie.

(Not flying though. Jason is used to having feet in regular contact with solid ground, thank you very much. No offense, Danny.)

But he gets why ghosts love to fly. When he’s jumping from rooftop to rooftop in Gotham in the at night, watching the city light fly by, cloak spread behind him, it’s as if nothing else matters. 

(No Joker, no petty criminals to beat up, no avoiding the Bats so they don’t find out about his existence—)

He can just enjoy, even just for a little bit.

—

(Somehow the Demon Brat and Orphan could sense him. Will keep and eyes on those two, and also the more reasons to avoid them.)

(The real problem was the new Bat in town. Bruce, what the fuck, another one? Again?)

(The yellow one, Signal. No time to check his profile yet, but probably a meta or something.)

(First night out and the guy almost managed to actually fucking see him —looked at him straight in the eyes and all, then did a double take. Jason never phased into the pavement so fast in his entire fucking life.)

(And so far no Bats on his cloak tails yet.)

(He did help the guy incognito, just a couple of times.) 

(And he also did steal his escrima sticks for fun, and once the guy went out looking for them, he’d put them right back where they were.)

(Turns out, he discovered later, that being a little shit runs in the ghost community.)

—

(Sometimes he also wonders what happened to Danny before they met.)

(He wasn't a Gothamite, that was obvious. He doesn’t pry, but it doesn’t take a lot to piece two and two together.)

(He just wonders who he has to kill this time.)

—

(Jason could not believe he forgot and underestimated just how fucking persistent every single one of the Bats could be. Of course it had to run in the family.)

He gazed down, thought the agony, at the gaping wound under his right armpit.

(The Bats have been chasing him relentlessly for a while now. He got more injuries than he can count, especially from Bruce.)

(They know. Oh, they know.)

(It didn’t go well.)

(He knows the others are there surrounding him to prevent him from escaping, he knows that Dick is right behind him, but at the moment he couldn’t care less.)

It has been a long time since the last time he got shot.

(It felt like someone set his right side on fire.) 

What was flowing out in abundance was a neon, toxic green.

(The Pit Waters, ectoplasm, he didn’t even know that he could fucking bleed in ghost form—)

(Danny—)

He looked back up at Batman, holding a (frankly) ugly gun, white casing and highlights in the same shade of toxic green. 

(A gun that Danny warned him about. And everything behind it.)

Jason felt something in him... snap.

(Why did it have to be you, Bruce.) 

His mouth opened—

(waitsincewhenhecoulddothatthroughtthe mask—) 

(Jason could see the billows of neon green smoke—)

(He couldn’t see Bruce’s expression.)

(Every. Single. Goddamn. Time.)

— and wailed.

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

I am genuinely delighted that my last post got that much attention! Thank you so much, to all who liked, rebblogged and commented, it really does mean the most. 💕

This AU may be continued? No guarantees, tho.

For those interested: Part 01

@fandomnerd103 @phoenixdemonqueen @satisfactionbroughtmeback @ascetic-orange @apointlessbox @bathildaburp @fisticuffsatapplebees @aisforanonymity @phandomhyperfixationblog @help-i-need-a-cool-username @hashtagdrivebywrites @did-i-miss-anyone-tagging-is-a-monk's-job-first-time-doing-this-aaaaaaaaaaaaaa

#jason todd #red hood #dc x dp #dp x dc #dc x dp crossover #danny phantom #halfa jason #halfa au #fanart #I may have subconsciously got myself inspired by spawn #as in like i figured it out on a random day halfway through the second painting #and went whooooooops i did it again #It took so long #cauz my perfectionism worked against me #a classic #*cries* #But thanks yall who read the tags #yall delightful #i guess art is a journey but im getting slapped by strong winds in the opposite direction #dc x dp prompt #dc x dp au #the inspiration to write only strikes at ungodly hours of the night i guess

[books-and-omens]

I think I—

GOD. MY HEART. 

He nearly says it. He nearly says ‘I think I ought to stay.’ But Metatron is walking off, very deliberately walking off without giving Aziraphale any time to respond. 

GOD.

#episode 6 #Aziraphale is looking in the direction where Crowley went for almost all of this scene #he is almost ready to drop everything #but the expectation #Metatron's projected certainty #the millenia-deep urge to obey #not to disappoint #to be good enough #my GOD #AZIRAPHALE NO #good omens season 2 #good omens #good omens spoilers #I am sorry for the quality of these gifs but LOOK AT HIM #good omens season 2 spoilers

[stevebabey]

no one asked but this is the post that inspired this! thank u immensely for the luv <3 number 1 comment was wondering what steve’s bids were & from his pov, so without further ado...enjoy — part one here!

—

Begrudgingly, Eddie has to admit that Robin might be right.

It’s impossible not to be looking for the bids since he brought them up to her. Even though Eddie was fully expecting to tell Robin to suck it, maybe even wager what little money he had against this working out, Eddie can’t help but watch for them in every interaction. And fuck, she’s right.

They’re little, but they’re there.

The first one Eddie would’ve missed if he wasn’t looking for it. Actually, that’s a lie; Eddie does miss it, until Robin points it out, the nosy bitch. It’s minuscule and honestly, it just seems like Steve asking his opinion — which friends do all the time! It’s why Eddie brushes right over it.

“Okay, be honest,“ Steve had said, walking and talking as he entered the living room where Robin and Eddie were sprawled across the couches. They were both waiting on him, the three of them set on heading out to the drive-in to catch a film.

Eddie can’t fathom why Steve felt the need to change his outfit for it, but when he returns, he gets it. It’s not quite the usual polo Eddie had grown to like on Steve, this one hanging a little looser, the colour a bit darker than Steve’s usual choice, the sleeves a little shorter — almost midway to a muscle tee.

Steve’s fingers fiddle with the distressed collar of the shirt, smoothing invisible wrinkles and fussing over nothing. He swishes back his floppy hair with a flick of his head. “It’s a new shirt, I know it’s a little different - but what do we think?”

He says we but he’s looking at Eddie.

Eddie, who has taken to trying to reel in his gawp because what the fuck Steve? It’s like he’s well aware of what drives Eddie insane and has specifically leaned into it. Some evil goblin in Eddie’s brain whispers think how good he’d look in your shirt and he squashes it, giving a visible twitch to shut down that train of thought.

From the other couch, Robin clears her throat loudly and smiles sweetly at her best friend. “It looks great, Steve.”

It’s sincere and Steve’s mouth tugs up, nearly a smile but his gaze fast-tracks back to Eddie. Eddie nods in agreement, a bit sluggish from his distracting thoughts and god dammit, the extra exposed skin of Steve’s arms are so not helping. “Yeah, looks... looks good, man.”

Steve smiles, lips pressed together but his shoulders curl in just a bit, deflating just a tad. From where Steve can’t see her, Robin waves her hands wildly and catches Eddie’s attention. He watches as she gestures wildly and it takes a moment to realise what’s she mouthing — ‘A bid! That’s a bid, you idiot!’

Oh fuck, Eddie thinks. Cos it totally was; the question, the focus on Eddie. He doesn’t even think about the logistics of it, of the fact Robin was right, just jumps right into picking up the bid.

“You trying a new style?” Eddie asks and then thanks whatever god invented the whole fake-it-to-you-make-it schtick because he’s feeling so far from casual or confident. “Going metal on me, big boy?”

Eddie just manages to catch the grin that breaks across Steve’s face as he turns away, giving a scoff — it comes out too soft though, giving away his complete lack of annoyance. He pulls that usual Steve Harrington pose, hands sliding onto his hips, and screws his face into some melted smiley-grimace. “Shut up, Munson.”

Eddie grins and goads on the blush that’s beginning on Steve’s neck, a glorious tinged pink colour. “If this shirt is any indication, you’d pull it off just fine.”

Eddie watches the blush climb higher as Steve ignores the comment, his smile still giving him away. He grabs his coat and pats down his jeans — ridiculous tight acid wash jeans that Eddie hates he’s somehow become attracted to — ensuring he has his keys and wallet. Once assured, he looks up at his two friends again, brows raised, and says, “Ready to rock and roll?”

That comment alone has Eddie seriously reconsidering his type in men.

There’s only a brief moment to talk about it when Eddie and Robin cajole Steve into going and getting them both popcorn to get a moment alone. Steve had scoffed, face twitching in the way it did whenever he tried to hold back a bitchy comment, but he still stomped off in the direction of the snack stand.

The moment he’s out of earshot, both voices explode in the back of Eddie’s van.

“What did I say—”

“Jesus H Christ, you were right—”

“Literally how many times do I have—”

“Oh my god, you were right—”

“ —before you realise I’m always—”

“Robin.” He cuts her off, hands landing on her shoulders. Robin eyes them warily, lips still parted from how her rant had been cut off. “Robin, I’m gonna kill you.”

“What?” Robin’s nose scrunches up. “What the hell are you—”

“Oh Christ, I can’t believe- how long have you noticed those bids?” Eddie’s aware he sounds a bit estranged, eyes probably wide and it doesn’t help when he softly shakes Robin back and forth. She lets herself be shaken, hair flying back in forth. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me! You are such a bad gay friend!”

Robin smacks his hands off her shoulders with a frown, her freckly face perturbed at Eddie’s outburst. “Dude, it’s not my fault! May I remind you that until very very recently you were seeing someone else? What difference would it have made?”

Eddie waves his hand, disregarding the point with a shake of his head. His unkempt curls cover his face and Eddie sweeps them back in one motion, “What difference would it have made? Oh my, Jesus—“

Whatever long-winded sentence Eddie was about to spit out is lost by the sound of Steve’s approaching footsteps, effectively shutting both of them up.

Eddie flings himself to the other side of the van, putting an unusual amount of distance between Robin and him like they were being caught doing something they shouldn’t.

Robin frowns at him and gestures wildly with her hands in a way that means what the fuck man? Eddie gestures back, though he’s not entirely sure what his fast hand motions are supposed to mean when Steve rounds the door.

He’s got two buckets of popcorn tucked under each arm and Eddie quickly crosses his arms, tucking his hands into his armpits like his stupid hand motions will somehow give him away. 

Steve looks up, stopping just a way from the edge of the van, and looks at the pair of them. His eyes track from Robin still sitting on one of the old cushions and looking two seconds from burying her face in her hands, across to Eddie. He huffs a laugh and kneels on the edge of the van.

“I know he’s gross Robin,” He begins, tone light, as he holds out one of the buckets for Robin to take. “But c’mon, is the distance really necessary?”

Robin snickers as Eddie makes an appalled noise, both of which make Steve smirk. He holds out the other for Eddie to take and Eddie snatches it, glaring at him over the buttery rim for his comment. Then takes a handful and shovels it in because he can’t think of a witty comment to retaliate. Steve crawls into the van and plops himself between them with a content sigh.

“See? Gross.” He teases, shoving his hand into Eddie’s popcorn bucket to grab a handful. Eddie scowls and chews a little faster when the flavour on his tongue seems to register in his brain.

His eyes stare at the popcorn bucket as he chews, then swallows — up the front of the van, the radio that’s tuned into the correct frequency begins playing the opening credits song as the screen changes. Silence sweeps across the drive-in but despite the sudden hush, Eddie has no qualms about breaking it.

“Sweet n’ salty flavour?” He asks Steve, only half attempting a whisper. Robin shushes him instantly, her focus already on the movie that’s beginning. Steve smiles, looking a bit sheepish beneath the glow of the drive-in screen, but he nods.

“I know you like it.” He whispers with a small shrug of his shoulders. Like it wasn’t a big deal. Fuck, Eddie thinks again and hastily feeds himself another handful of popcorn before he says anything majorly stupid in response to that, like: Oh, amazing- have you noticed the big fat crush I have on you as well?

He doesn’t even need to look at Robin to know she’s smiling, smug as ever.

—

Steve, God bless his oblivious little heart, doesn’t even realise he’s doing it.

Steve likes Eddie. Eddie is— god, Eddie is different but he’s good.

He’s this strange amalgamation of traits that Steve can’t comprehend how they fit together in one body or how Eddie manages to pull it all off completely charmingly.

He’s loud, he says rude things, he’s fucking dorky, and far too sweet on the kids — he likes to tease Steve, and yet somehow, when Eddie calls him ‘pretty boy’, Steve knows he’s not actually making fun of him.

Steve likes Eddie, likes his boyishly endearing charm, likes his touchiness towards Steve that no other boy his age is like, likes his messy curls and his ‘holier than thou’ attitude about metal music even though Steve doesn’t get it, like at all. And fuck, Steve really wants Eddie to like him.

It reminds him faintly of when he first started working alongside Robin at Scoops. That thought tickles in the back of his mind, something along the lines of how he had wanted Robin to like him for other reasons, but he doesn’t delve into it.

To Steve, it’s simple: he just wants Eddie to like him.

After the night at the drive-in, between Eddie acting strangely skittish and Robin giving more amused snorts than usual, Steve knows something is up.

He knows they must have discussed something when they sent him on popcorn duty, the bastards. He tries his best to not feel left out; god knows Robin and he have more than a dozen secrets they’ve sworn not to tell anyone but each other.

Besides, Steve trusts Robin to come and tell him if he really needs to know, even if it does worry him a bit. He bites down his anxious thoughts, even trying for a moment to see if there’s a pattern he’s been missing.

That train of thought gets derailed when Steve recalls instead Eddie’s delightful reaction to his new shirt — that Steve definitely hadn’t bought for that specific reason.

Even though Robin had given him that look when he’d first shown it to her — her bright eyes had narrowed, her smile turning a little more coy, and Steve had felt his ears get a little hotter. She hadn’t said anything though, just suggested that he should wear it tomorrow night when they were going out with Eddie.

God, he was glad she suggested it.

Rewinding over Eddie’s parted lips, the way his brown eyes had drank in the details as they trailed up his body and lingered on his arms— Steve had the sudden thought to flex the muscle, just to elicit some reaction, but it had gone out the window at Eddie’s original dismal reaction.

‘Yeah, looks... looks good, man’. Said all aloof, like he hadn’t really thought it. It was like bursting a balloon hidden behind Steve’s ribs, one he wasn’t even aware was there until it was deflating pathetically, making his shoulders sag.

Then— ‘You trying a new style? Going metal on me, big boy?’ And dammit, it’s like Eddie had clocked exactly what calling him ‘big boy’ had done the first time in the Winnebago.

Eddie had then grinned, done another once over of the new shirt, even as Steve pretended to search for his keys and wallet while saying something snarky to try to cover up the heat crawling up his neck. Yet, Steve found himself smiling too because, fuck yes, Eddie liked it too.

But, apparently, whatever Eddie and Robin had discussed wasn’t considered important enough because Robin never brought it up.

The thought and worry about it melt away in Steve’s mind until the memory of that night is about Eddie’s compliment, about his cat-like grin over the popcorn bucket, and how he had leaned over to whisper every bad joke into Steve’s ear all through the movie.

Some of them had been down-right filthy jokes which Eddie only seemed to enjoy more when Steve screwed his face up and nudged Eddie in the ribs, yet unable to hide his smile.

After the third vulgar joke and subsequent nudge, Steve had chided ‘dude’ with a poorly hidden grin. Eddie, smile all cheeky, had nudged him back with a ‘dude’ of his own.

Which, of course, ensued a nudge competition til Robin had given a shush that librarians all over the world would be jealous of. But Steve didn’t even care because he and Eddie were arm to arm, pressed close together and Eddie…didn’t move. Stayed close, like he wanted the closeness the same way Steve did.

Steve only remembers the strange drive-in moment when Robin brings it up finally, on one interesting Saturday night.

It’s not the usual routine; it’s not very often that the whole group gets together to share drinks and get rowdy.

But it was for Robin’s birthday and she’d been persuasive enough to get even the introverts, like Jonathan, to come along. Though, she was aware he’d probably spend the night on a pool lounger, stoned to high heaven. Whatever floats your boat, she’d said, happy for the company in any form.

There’s enough of them there that it almost resembles some sort of party— and makes Steve try not to think about the last small party he threw here. He can tell Nancy notices it too, eyeing the pool a bit too long in a way he’s very familiar with, then taking a swig of beer.

So, Steve heckles them inside — doing a fantastic mothering impression as he waves the group indoors with a promise of pizza, and that has both Jonathan and Argyle perking up and beginning a fast discussion on the best pizza toppings.

Eddie makes a fuss, because of course he does, and moans terribly when Steve tries to roll him off the pool lounger he’s on. He’s had a bit of a joint and some beer, and Steve’s learned that he gets adorably stubborn after some substances.

“Stevie, this is mean,” he had pouted, gripping the edges of the lounger and staring up at Steve with those big brown eyes. “You telling me I did all that bonding with you for nothing? Can’t even lounge by the pool! I’ve got a couch at homeeeee.”

Steve had sent him an amused look of disbelief, hands on his hips after his first round of flicks against Eddie’s arm were apparently fruitless to get him to move. “Really? Didn’t peg you for a gold-digger, Eds.”

Eddie had snorted at that, one hand coming to slap over his mouth. Steve couldn’t quite hear what he had said but the words pegging and anytime slipped through and Steve thinks he could get the gist of that.

“Oh for Christ’s sake,” Steve muttered, feeling the tips of his ears turn warm. He didn’t know how Eddie could be such a menace— or why he enjoyed it so much when he was. Steve waved a hand in the direction of the doors, ignoring Eddie’s delighted snickering. “If you go inside now, you can be on music, alright?”

And that had finally got them all indoors, Eddie whooping and skedaddling through the doors in an instant, with a call of ‘no take backsies!’ echoing behind him.

Inside was much cozier, the whole group a little more connected when squished up on the couches together. Eddie had taken Steve’s word and was jamming a cassette into one of the speakers when Steve made it back inside after scouting around the pool for leftover cans and butts to throw out.

He’s just been thinking about what playful jab he could make at Eddie’s music, like Eddie always did to him when Robin hollered at him from the kitchen.

“Steve!” She’d yelled excitedly and he come to find her quick, brows raised as he entered the kitchen. She was grinning, already a bit jumpy as she got when she had a bit of liquor — but apparently not enough because when Steve saw what she’d called him in for, she’d announced, “Tequila shots!”

Which lead to now. A hazy combination of beer, tequila, and a bit of weed, and Steve is feeling good. Robin had managed to hijack the music not too long ago, with a hiccup of ‘it’s my birthday’ that had Eddie surrendering with a pout.

She’d since put on a bit of everything: some Blondie for Nance, Talking Heads for Jonathan, and some Bowie, just so she and Steve could dance along to ‘Magic Dance’ and she could do all the silly little goblin voices that made them both cackle.

Steve realised at some point that Robin was playing their mixtape, the one she’d made for driving in the morning, and nearly tripped stumbling over to her in his excitement. He grabbed her shoulders, not too hard, and squeezed.

“Is it- is this our mixtape?” Steve asked, words slurring only a bit. Robin gleamed, hair bouncing with her excited nod.

“Yes!” She was already dancing, even though the tape was between songs — because she knew what song was coming. “It’s Springsteen time, Steve!”

Right as the drums to Born to Run filtered out the speaker.

And oh, Steve loves Robin so much. He loves having a best friend that knows his favourite song and gets jittery and excited because she knows it’s about to play— that she put it on this mix for him.

“You’re my best friend!” Steve says, the words bursting out like he can’t control them. He doesn’t even feel embarrassed, just happy, just drunk, and overwhelming happy to be able to have this.

And even though Robin knows this, she still beams, feet dancing along and just begins to sing along with the song, “In the days, we sweat it out on the streets of a runaway American dream…”

It’s a brazen drunken performance from the both of them. Steve’s chest is heaving after just one chorus that he’s pretty sure he put his whole soul into and he’s so fucking happy —and it feels like pure instinct to seek out Eddie, his eyes scouring the room for him.

Eddie’s leaned up against the wall, hiding his smile behind a can and Steve doesn’t think twice about it— doesn’t think about why he’s so drawn to Eddie, why he wants to include him in this happiness — just extends his hand out and grins.

Eddie sees the bid coming this time.

Part Three.

— 

yes i saw all ur lovely tags and MAYBE cried about it. but thats none of ur business.

@orangeandthefairroadkill @swimmingbirdrunningrock @sadcanadianwinter @phantypurple @omg-elledubs-things @henderdads @farfaras @mixsethaddams @prismandblue @kerlypride @bushbees @legitcookie @temporalcoffin @callmesirkay @beautifully-useless @millyditty @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @ninjapirateunicorns @darkwitchoferie @vi-the-best-you-can @psychosnowfox @desert-fern @scarletzgo @cr0w-culture @softpink-candlelight @livingforfictionalcharacters @makewavesandwar @kozuuji @rhapsodyinalto @eddiethesexy @cassaloopa @lightwoodbanethings @qu33rcommunist @moonlitkilljoy @starkdusk @theysherobinbuckley @sanguineterrain @loganwright @sillysparrow @hotcocoaharrington @eddie-munson-is-my-wife @she-is-tim @steddiehearts @sideblogofthcentury @sidebarre @corrodedcoughin @stevieclaus

#OBLIVIOUS STEVE IS MY FAVOURITE!!!! #idiots in love #they're so important to me ur honour #on god am i gonna make them KISS #but steve's gotta figure it out first lol #ruby writes steddie #steddie #steddie ficlet #i think i can call it a fic now lol each part is 3k+ i think #steddie fic #IF U WANTED TO BE TAGGED AND I DIDNT IM SORRY #lest i come off terribly egotistical i need direct instructions to tag lmao #even then i tagged sum people that just said 'can't wait for part 2!' which? isn't? #I DUNNO #i went off vibes someone said they were vibrating so i was like get over here the next part is here #one of these tags is just a steddie blog i love.... and they reblogged part 1 #corrodedcoughin <3 i love u hehe #the stobin bestie love SHINES in this #i love them so much they are BEST FRIENDS!!! #if u have any ideas... i do love reading the tags and seeing what people want to see next ! im fuckin making it up as i go lol

[hauntingjasper]

A Jackalope girl and her cat... thing

#She feels kinda lonely #I am totally making this an AU.. just for funsies #Still thinking of a name bc at first I wanted to make everyone cryptids but then i went to the other direction #Now only Fionna and Marshall are actually inspired by cryptids #The others are just.. idk I'll have to draw it anyway #fionna and cake #adventure time fionna and cake #fionna and cake fanart #adventure time fionna #fionna campbell #fionna the human #adventure time fanart #adventure time #fionna and cake au #fionna and cake adventure time

[steddiealltheway]

By some twist in fate, Eddie and Nancy become friends.

It starts when Eddie sees her at The Hideout standing out very much in the sea of dark clothes wearing a lavender sweater and jeans. Eddie tells his band mates he’ll be right back when he rushes off to Nancy, noticing how people are starting to stare at her a bit.

“Nance?” Eddie asks, hands in the pockets of his black jeans trying not to make it obvious that he’s fidgety. He knows that she can defend herself, but it looks like some of the guys in the bar are going to test it, and he hopes his presence will make them back off a bit.

Nancy turns and her eyebrows furrow before she gives him a tight smile. “Eddie? What are you doing here?”

“Just finished up a gig. What are you doing here?” Eddie asks.

Nancy looks around and loudly says, “I was just here to see you play. I can’t believe I missed it.” She throws her arms around Eddie and whispers in his ear, “I’m looking into something.”

As she pulls away, Eddie smiles and puts his arm around her. “How about we talk outside?”

Nancy nods and walks toward the exit. Eddie turns and waves Gareth off as he stares at him with his jaw dropped.

As soon as they’re outside, Nancy lets out a deep breath and Eddie rushes off to his van, not trusting the few people outside staring. He opens the passenger door for Nancy and goes quickly to the driver side. When the door closes, Nancy immediately says, “I know this probably sounds crazy, but I think there’s a dog fighting ring below The Hideout.”

Eddie sits back and takes in the information. He shrugs. “Okay. I can believe that.”

Nancy rambles on, “And I know there’s not great evidence and it’s a shot in the dark but-” She stops and looks at Eddie. “You believe me?”

“Yeah. You’re one of the smartest people I know, and the Creel stuff checked out, so why wouldn’t I believe you?”

“I gave you no evidence,” Nancy says as if she’s trying to talk herself out of her own theory.

Eddie shrugs again. “Then, give it to me.”

And she does. Telling him about a dog she saw chained in the backyard of someone’s house with marks consistent with an attack. How the only time the owner brings the dog inside is when he leaves his garage to drive to The Hideout, although he usually parks in the driveway which means he probably doesn't want people to see him putting the dog in his car. How he parks at the back of the bar in a fenced-off section that only a few other cars can go in. How she’s seen dogs in the other cars and even barking in the back that fades almost as if the noise starts traveling down. But this is the first time she’s gone inside.

“Well, that all sounds pretty damning, but you’re going to have to stop your investigation style.”

Nancy crosses her arms. “What does that mean?”

“I mean, you stick out like a reporter, and your notebook was sticking out of your pocket in there. No one is going to talk to you, and if they think something is up, then you risk them relocating. So, I suggest we give you a metal makeover and you let me drive you here in my van because your shiny little car is just as suspicious.”

Nancy looks a bit pissed as she states, “I don’t need your help or protection.”

Eddie smiles. “I know you don’t, but I would be a great undercover buddy and excuse for your presence at The Hideout.”

Nancy narrows her eyes at him. “Why are you helping me?”

“One, you saved my life. Two, this sounds like an adventure,” Eddie says throwing his arms out with glee.

Nancy tries to suppress a smile before she sighs, “Fine, but if you blow the case…”

“I’m dead, and I never go on anymore adventures with you. Got it.” Eddie holds out his hand with a wide smile, and Nancy takes it, shaking it one time.

It feels like the start of a wonderful friendship.

-:-:-:-:-:-

“Wow,” Eddie says staring in awe at his work.

“I feel ridiculous, Eddie,” Nancy says, dark eyeliner smudged around her eyes, chains dangling over her tight black pants, and one of Eddie’s band t-shirts tucked into them.

“Well, you look absolutely metal,” Eddie says with a bright smile.

Nancy rolls her eyes but smiles.

Eddie thinks for a second before announcing, “We should stop by Family Video to show off your new look.”

Nancy scoffs.

“I always stop by on Wednesday! Please,” Eddie practically begs. He can’t wait to see the look on Steve’s face when he sees her. He wonders if Robin will be there too.

Nancy gets a little investigative twinkle in her eye. “You stop by every Wednesday, huh?”

Eddie eyes her. There’s no way she knows about his crush or the fact that he stops by every Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and sometimes Saturday and Sunday depending on if Steve's working the weekend shift. He tries to brush it off. “Yes, so I must stop by today. Right now actually, so you’re coming with, Wheeler. We can do this the easy way or the hard way.”

Nancy narrows her eyes at him.

“Alright, we’re doing this the easy way. Got it,” Eddie says, voice cracking a bit with fear that only Nancy can evoke. Luckily, she follows him to his van and gets in willingly.

A quick trip over and a surprisingly pleasant conversation later, and Eddie is dramatically entering Family Video. His heart skips a beat when he spots Steve at the counter looking at him, and he nearly forgets the reason for his dramatics. Then, Nancy clears her throat, still hiding behind him, and Eddie makes eye contact with Robin who is raising her eyebrows expectantly.

Luckily, the store is empty when he dramatically announces, “Lady and gentleman, I present to you-”

“Ruth,” Nancy whispers behind him.

Eddie moves to the side and dramatically presents, “Ruth!”

Robin looks like she’s about to die on the spot, and Steve well… he looks a bit shocked.

Eddie hooks his arm around Nancy and walks her up to the counter. “What do you think Steve?" His heart tugs a bit as he notices the way Steve doesn't look at Nancy but instead focuses in on Eddie's arm draped around her shoulders. His jaw flexes and his nostrils flare as he looks at Eddie and nods. "She looks great like a female version of you." He tries to smile at him, but it comes off forced and almost scary.

Eddie's arm guiltily slides off Nancy and a blush settles over his cheeks. He feels weirdly embarrassed as he passes Nancy off to Robin who stutters while complimenting her.

Eddie takes the break to look at Steve who stares at a stack of tapes, fiddling with them as if to make it perfectly stacked. "Didn't realize you two were so close."

"We're working undercover on a case," Eddie says with a big smile, feeling almost giddy with excitement.

Nancy laughs, overhearing him. "We're investigating something," she corrects, but adds on, "An adventure." Her eyes light up and her eyebrows raise, and Eddie feels an intense platonic love for the woman.

He glances back at Steve who continues staring at his tapes. "Sounds fun," he says flatly.

Eddie feels another shoot of pain in his heart, almost stricken by guilt. He and Steve have been talking and relatively close for the past few weeks, but suddenly he gets weird when he becomes friends with Nancy?

It strikes Eddie suddenly. He's jealous.

Of course Steve would be jealous of Eddie parading around with his ex-girlfriend! It makes so much sense. He probably thinks he's corrupting her or something.

When Robin asks Nancy more about her investigation, Eddie can't help but lean over the counter and mumble, "You know that there's nothing happening between me and Nancy, right? She doesn't like me like that at all. Trust me. Don't have to worry about her being taken or whatever especially by me," Eddie rambles out, laughing at the end to add to how ridiculous the thought even is.

Steve looks at him confused. "That's not- that isn't..." He shakes his head and goes back to his stack. "I don't have feelings for Nance."

Eddie almost scoffs at that because hello. All signs point to jealousy. "So, you're not jealous?"

"No of you," Steve mutters still fidgeting with the tapes.

Eddie nods. Maybe he's just having a bad day or something. "Great, glad we cleared that up. But uh- are you okay?"

Steve nods and gives him that same tight smile. "Yup."

Yeah, he's definitely not fine, but he's not gonna push it. He glances over at Nancy to ask if she's ready to go, but then he sees the way she's leaning over the counter toward Robin, chatting animatedly about her evidence while Robin listens with heart eyes, practically drooling as she asks Nancy more questions. And what's even more interesting is the way Nancy gets flustered as Robin asks questions she hadn't thought of before and a blush slowly appears on Nancy's cheeks.

Eddie watches in awe as the two form more theories with their ideas bouncing off of each other as they slowly lean closer and closer until Nancy's arms are pressing against Robin's. Eddie softly smiles. If Nancy can tease him about his crush, he's going to certainly tease her about hers.

"Watch it there. You might start drooling if you stare too hard," Steve mutters to Eddie, hurt evident in his tone.

"Why would I be drooling?"

Steve rolls his eyes and loudly announces, "I'm going on my break." The two girls jump apart as he storms off to the back and slams the door behind him. Christ. What has him in such a bad mood?

"Damn, what did you say to him?" Robin asks with her arms crossed.

Eddie raises his hands. "I have no idea."

Nancy raises her eyebrows. "Oh, I have an idea, but come on. I think that was our cue to leave." She turns back to Robin and very regretfully says goodbye before Eddie follows her outside.

"Really, I have no idea-"

"He's jealous, Eddie," Nancy states with a small smile.

Eddie fidgets and says, "Well, he told me he wasn't after I explained you don't have feelings for me."

Nancy laughs, and Eddie stares at her. "What am I missing?"

"He's not jealous of you! He's jealous of me. He likes you, Eddie, and don't tell me I'm wrong because I know what he's like when he likes someone."

Eddie stops to think about the way Steve had hardly paid attention to Nancy and gave all his attitude to Eddie. But that can't be true, and he knows he can't say that to Nancy, so instead he stirs the pot. "And you like Robin, and she likes you back!"

Nancy's jaw drops and she splutters, "She doesn't- I don't- She... That is not what we're discussing right now!"

"Here's what I think," Eddie says, ignoring Nancy's attempt at changing the topic, "I think that you should go to The Hideout with Robin because you two clearly work well together, and she's a better investigator than I am. Plus, you two have the experience after the whole library and asylum thing."

Nancy takes a second to consider it and asks, "But what about you? I know you wanted the adventure."

Eddie's stomach flips a bit at how caring Nancy Wheeler is. "I think I've had enough adventure in the Upside Down to last a lifetime. Plus, I have a weak stomach, and I might throw up if I saw a dog fighting ring."

Nancy smiles and huffs a laugh. She looks down at her feet a moment before looking at Eddie with a determined look that scares him. "If I go with Robin, you'll take her work vest and cover the rest of her shift. Plus, I get your van so we have a ride."

"Deal," Eddie says handing her his keys without thinking.

"Have fun with Steve," Nancy says with a big smile running back into Family Video.

Shit, he had forgotten about that part.

Eddie races inside, but it's too late, Nancy is already talking to Robin about the plan. She hands over her vest to Eddie and squeals, "Tell Steve I'm not sorry at all."

The bell on the door rings as they both race out. Eddie sighs and makes his way to the back, hoping that Steve won't entirely lose his shit at the news.

He knocks on the door and gets a, "Leave me alone, Robin," in response.

"It's Eddie. Robin left with Nancy," Eddie says loudly through the door.

It quickly opens with Steve looking a bit frantic and confused. "She what?"

"She left to investigate with Nancy. I'm covering the rest of the shift."

Steve stares at him for a few seconds and sighs running a hand over his face. "I didn't mean to make you lose your chances with Nance. That was a dick move, man. I can cover the rest of the shift on my own, and you can go with them."

Eddie crosses his arms. "I told you she doesn't have feelings for me."

"Yeah, but you have feelings for her clearly. You couldn't take your eyes off of her after that whole makeover of yours. Turned her into your perfect girl or whatever," Steve says angrily, and Eddie sees that same jealousy returning.

"Why are you getting so jealous?" Eddie asks outright, refusing to fully rely on Nancy's explanation.

Steve runs a hand through his hair and rests it on his hip. He looks at Eddie for a few seconds, eyes wandering all over his face before blurting out, "Because I like you! Okay! And I thought maybe you did too because of how often you come in and talk to me, but clearly, I was wrong." He brushes past Eddie and goes back to that damn stack of tapes, fidgeting with them again.

Eddie takes a deep breath and says, "Steve?"

Steve tenses up, and Eddie continues, "You realize that I don't have feelings for Nancy because I have this huge overwhelming crush on you that I never thought would go anywhere, right?"

Steve turns around quickly. "Huh?"

Eddie slowly walks up to him. "Nancy tried to tell me that you were jealous of her, and I thought it wasn't possible. That there was no way that you could like me like that. In fact, I'm pretty sure I'm dreaming right now."

"Me too," Steve says with his eyes wide.

Eddie stops in front of him and cautiously smiles. "So, what now?"

Steve smiles back. "You know, I once heard that if you want to wake up from a dream, you just grab someone in the dream and kiss them."

"Really?"

"No," Steve says stepping closer. "But I think it's worth a try."

"Me too," Eddie replies as he leans in and does what he's been dreaming of doing for weeks now. Steve's lips are soft and warm and Eddie feels like he could get lost in the way they move against his.

Sadly, Steve breaks the kiss and says, "Huh, not dreaming, which also means that I need to temporarily put the closed sign on the door."

Eddie's eyebrows furrow, still confused as to why the kiss ended early. "Why?"

Steve jumps over the counter and flips the sign. "So we can properly kiss in the back without the fear of people coming in. I'm still on my break, you know, and I know exactly how I want to spend every minute of it," Steve says all matter-of-fact as he makes his way back to Eddie and tugs him into the breakroom.

God bless, Nancy Wheeler.

(Oh, and Nancy's investigation pans out exactly as she expected. She busts the ring pretty fast, and in her article, she thanks ((her, now, girlfriend)) Robin and even Eddie for their help. And trust me, the fruity four go on plenty of adventures together. Plus, Eddie and Nancy are very willing to give their partners their platonic soulmate time, so they can also hang out.)

#steddie #platonic edancy #eddie munson #steve harrington #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #steddie ficlet #stranger things #this went in a different direction than expected #because i realized it was getting too long #but i was going to have a whole eddie and nancy as investigation buddies together plot #but i firmly believe that they still do that #just on cases Eddie can stomach