#My idea for truce is that Nightmare named him

[somegrumpynerd]

Okay I’m going to sleep right after I post this but I need to write it down so I don’t forget

Does anyone know if there’s a canon way Killer got his name? Like other Sanses are usually named after their au (Horror, Fell, Outer, etc.) but his au is Something New, so did he choose it himself or was it given to him?

I’m only asking because I have a fun idea for my truce au about it

#UTDR #UTMV #Truce au #I find it hard to find info on Killer’s au since it was so long ago #And tumblr’s search feature is as functional as always #My idea for truce is that Nightmare named him #He didn’t mean to but he did #It was his first mortal okay it’s a learning process #Anyway I just wanna check there isn’t some major name-related character event I’m overriding #Well see y’all tomorrow night everyone o/

[merlinmarvelandother-oneshots]

Hi can we have a Bad sanses trying to raise kid Y/N

bad sanses (Nightmare, Dust, Fell, Horror, Error, and fellswap ((raspberry)) trying to raise Child!Reader

a/n: including a character I don’t normally write for (Raspberry) just for this one-shot because I don’t have to focus on him. his personality is difficult for me to write (and I can’t tell the difference between fellswap and swapfell)

also I wrote y/n about 10 years old.

this also… slightly diverges from canon. I’m kidding it’s super uncanon but this is fanfiction and I can do what I want :)

(tw for death threats, mentions of child death, swearing)

Ink and Dream made a decision to put Nightmare and his lackeys into. . . A rehabilitation, of sorts. Something to force them to be good, and learn responsibility.

They decided to do that by giving them a child.

Ink had saved them from Error’s path of destruction a while back before their truce, and could never find a permanent home for them. Up until now, that is.

the only time any of them had killed children was when they were killing massive amounts of people. They never went out of their way to kill a child, not even Fell or Nightmare.

so, this was probably a solid plan!

“absolutely not,” Nightmare had said. “No. It’s not happening! Don’t you give me that look, Dream, it won’t happen. Are you trying to get that kid killed? Come on.”

“it’s a necessary evil,” Ink chimed in. “To… unevil your evil, I guess.”

“besides, you don’t even have a choice. They’re already inside!” Dream said.

Nightmare flinched hard as a crash came from somewhere behind him, inside his castle, followed by incoherent swearing, probably from Fell, judging by the Brooklyn accent.

he looked, and saw nothing. It must’ve been in another room…

“I’ll talk to you later about this. I have to find out what the hell just happened.”

he turned away and slammed the door with his tentacles, while Ink and Dream created a portal to return home. They had no intentions of waiting for Nightmare to come back, because they knew what happened: Y/N.

Nightmare stormed through the castle, his pace quick as he tried to figure out what the hell just happened.

Nightmare entered his throne room to see, to his horror, that it had been turned over and there was a child atop it, while Horror, Fell, and Raspberry surrounded them in an attempt to get them off. Without hurting them, that is.

the child turned, and when they saw him, they immediately slid off the turned-over throne and began walking towards him.

“I'm guessing you’re Nightmare. Uncle Dream told me about you. I’m y/n!” The child stuck out their hand, supposedly for a handshake.

“uh… huh,” Nightmare ignored their attempt at politeness, desperate to get this kid out of his castle. It was probably futile, though. Ink would come up with some sort of plan to outsmart him and bring the child back. “Okay. Go over there, or something. I don’t really care. Fell, Horror, Raspberry, get your asses over here!”

everyone’s eyelights snapped to Nightmare. Even Fell’s, even though he appeared to have fallen asleep. The child returned to their original position on top of Nightmare’s throne, and he noticed that they had a suitcase with them, that they pulled a notebook and colored pencils out of. courtesy of Ink? probably.

meanwhile, the Sanses that were in the room gathered around Nightmare.

“why in gods name is there a CHILD in our castle?” Raspberry questioned.

“Dream and Ink said we needed ‘rehabilitating’ to ‘unevil our evil’, whatever the hell that means,” Nightmare said.

“heh, they can have fun tryin’,” Fell said. Nightmare nodded.

“but we need something to do with this child. i doubt my brother will be keen on taking them back so soon,” he said.

“we could-“ Horror began.

“NO!” the other three snapped in unison. Nightmare pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.

“we are not making them into a head dog, Horror. the idea is out of the question,” his tone was slightly calmer this time. Horror’s face sank and he stepped back, slightly behind the others. the child, unbeknownst to Raspberry, Horror and Fell, but visible to Nightmare (as he was facing them) was clearly very sad about the way Horror was being treated. they silently vowed to advocate for him, to make sure he was being treated with proper respect.

“so, what exactly are we plannin’ on doin’?” Fell asked.

“i suppose we will have to care for them until we can find a more permanent solution. we cannot simply drop them into some universe; there would be too many questions. we do not have any proper identification for them or anything else of the sort. when asked where they came from, what would they say? that the Star Sanses have been raising them since Error destroyed their universe? nobody would believe them.”

“with all due respect, Nightmare,” Raspberry said. “that is exactly why it’s a perfect plan. we wouldn’t have to do anything. they could either lie and say they didn’t know, or they could tell the truth and just be seen as a child with an overactive imagination.”

“perhaps, but the risk is simply too great. besides, Blueberry is very active in the ‘policing’ of universes. he would likely be aware of it before we could even leave the universe we drop them into.”

“so, we ain’t got another choice?” Fell asked. “we gotta keep em?”

“yes, Fell. i’m afraid we do,” said Nightmare. Raspberry groaned.

*~* there was a shriek. Error burst into the throne room a few moments later.

“why is there a KID in the hallway?” he half yelled. Nightmare chuckled.

“Aww, are you afraid of a child?” he teased. Error growled, and Nightmare sighed, his face changing from amusement to annoyance. "go tell them to go back to their room. escort them yourself if they cannot find it again."

"but that doesn't explain why they're here." the glitching in his voice, not very prevalent at first, became more noticeable as he got angrier.

Nightmare explained the situation as Error got tenser and tenser. he knew Dream and Ink were extreme, but come on, they know that everyone in this castle has killed before with no remorse, right? That any one of them could kill that child with no hesitation? Error had bickered with Nightmare in an attempt to find some logical reason as to why they should send y/n back, but Nightmare shut each argument down.

both skeleton's voices were beginning to rise when Horror broke into the room. "what do you feed a human?" his voice was calm, in stark contrast to how frantically he slammed the door and how he was out of breath, as though he was running to get an answer, and the emotion on his face matched his name.

Nightmare needed the day off. he thought. honestly, the things he has to deal with! he groaned. "a fucking burger or something. i don't know! i'm not a damn expert on humans!" Horror nodded and left, closing the doors behind him.

"as i was saying-" Nightmare was interrupted again by Horror slamming open the doors again.

"what do humans drink?" Horror asked. Nightmare rolled his eyes.

"water, you imbecile, water! now don't interrupt me again!" Nightmare yelled. Horror nodded his head and left again. Nightmare turned his head back to Error. "we are not getting rid of the human. this is final."

Error lowered his fine. "as you wish," he said as he left the throne room Nightmare sighed. what was he supposed to do?

*~*

"c'mon, kid, come here! you look like free xp," Dust said. the human knew what 'xp' meant.

"hey, what the hell are ya thinkin'? the boss'll turn you into xp if you hurt that kid!" Fell says from behind Dust.

dust turned to face Fell. "you're kidding me, right? you're trying to tell me that he wants a human kid around?"

"no, i'm not kiddin'." Fell sighs. "Dream 'n Ink dropped 'em off this mornin'. somethin' about 'teaching us to be good'. i think it's a whole lotta bull, but the boss doesn't want 'em harmed."

Dust rolled his eye sockets, and turned back to the kid. “alright, i’ll spare ya for now, but if you act up i won’t be so merciful. got it?”

“got it,” the kid said. surprisingly, they weren’t afraid of Dust… or at least they were good at hiding it if they were.

Dust went to his room. Fell turned to leave, too, but stopped to say, “hey, don’t worry about him. he wouldn’t dare go against the boss’s orders. you’ll be safe here, okay? so long as you don’t fuck up too bad.” his tone was filled with a surprising amount of kindness and empathy. the child nodded.

“i know. Uncle Dream and Uncle Ink told me before they dropped me off,” they said.

Fell nodded. “you probably oughta go to your room now, before you piss somebody off. but before you do that, i’ve got a couple words of advice.”

the kids eyes focused on him as they listened.

“when Horror has his axe, don’t go anywhere near him. don’t even let him see you. and if Dust is talking to himself, he’s actually talking to his brother. whether his brother is a spirit that only he can see or a hallucination isn’t entirely clear. and don’t touch Error, he won’t hesitate to kill you. but out of everybody here, Raspberry has the worst temper. best to stay on his good side. got it?”

“yep! thanks!”

Fell nodded again. “i’ll see ya tomorrow.”

then he left.

*~* why the hell was Nightmare yelling? y/n listened in to the conversation going on in the throne room. they couldn’t make out exact words, but Nightmare was yelling, presumable at Horror.

“hey!” they burst in the room, Nightmare, Horror, and Raspberry’s eyes snapped to them. “leave him alone! if you have a problem, TALK IT OUT! yelling doesn’t solve any problems.”

Nightmare sat stunned for a moment. his expression turned angry, but he refrained from doing anything. however, his tone was aggressive when he said, “do not EVER interrupt me again, do you understand me? do not burst into my throne room, and do not speak to me in such a disrespectful manner.”

y/n stood their ground, keeping their head held high with confidence and determination.

“don’t talk to him like that, and we won’t have a problem.”

Nightmare appeared to get angrier, before calming again. “you have confidence. i like that.”

y/n looked past Nightmare to see Raspberry appearing not to care, and Horror, who had a grateful expression.

“i stand up for what’s right,” they said.

“that, however, won’t fly here. now get out!”

y/n nodded and left the throne room, but they stood outside and listened. Nightmares tone was calmer, although still muffled through the door.

they had already started to make a difference here.

how long would it take to fix the gang? who knows.

but they were patient.

they would bring the light into this dark castle.

(sorry this is just a bunch of scenes thrown together lol. i might write more for this later, just to show the skellies character development. i love you all and im sorry this took so long to release)

#Undertale #undertale au #error x reader #error sans x reader #nightmare x reader #nightmare sans x reader #fell x reader #fell sans x reader #child!reader #fellswap sans x reader #raspberry x reader #horror x reader #horror sans x reader #dust x reader #dust sans x reader

[m-to-z-andbackto-m]

(TLDR at the bottom)

(I FORGOT TO POST THIS AND IT'S JUST BEEN SITTING IN MY DRAFTS COLLECTING DUST 😭)

More DreamTale ramble because it's their birthday and I still don't have their gift finished 😭

DreamTale By Joku 🫶

DREAMTALE is about BALANCE correct?

>:)

>:/

>:(

Okay, yeah I'm not too excited about this one but here we go (That's a lie, I'm hella invested):

Original:

Nightmare - Died once, is a pelvis hole, pretty sure he unalived one of Killer's cats or at least attacked it, being of hate, literally no one should be happy around him (He might KILL YOUR CAT if you are smh)

Dream - Was turned to stone once, definition of a cinnamon roll, authentic Disney princess (Reference), way too kind and hopeful for his own good, literally no one should be upset around him

Okay we got this? Nightmare? Super Uncool. Dream? Super Wholesome.

Right okay so DreamTale having this Balance shtick, I think it makes Sans (Ba Dum Tsss) that in versions where Nightmare is actually likable (DadMare), Dream is... Less likable...

Like canonically that's a load of bull shart and super unlikely to be the case, like, ever

But making one likable (In this case, Nightmare), more often than not, renders the other unlikable (Dream), I've seen it, over and over (Examples):

Rehabilitation Multiverse (I 🫶 Them) (Guys go read Little Assistant on Quotev, I beg, it's so cute, they have a blog on here too <3)

BJTBS and more of Dark's content

That one multiverse where Dream is essentially the embodiment of toxic positivity (Crazed? Dream?) and Nightmare has gotta go around fixing up mishaps (Really liked this idea, it takes the whole thing I'm talking about and multiplies it by 20)

I think Shattered Dreams should count too?

Okay actually those are the only ones I've personally looked into myself (I think DreamSwap by Kai might count too but I haven't looked into DS since... 3... years ago... yeah-) but I've seen it mentioned over and over, whether someone's ranting about a fanfic they read or doodles people make

Due to these observations, I conclude:

Common DreamTale Occurrence: To have a likable Nightmare, you need a less-than-ideal Dream. To keep your pure Dream, you gotta have a hateful Nightmare.

Exceptions:

Both Are Unlikable (Rare?)

Both are likable (but don't see eye socket to eye socket if you wanna keep that conflict, or they vibe together neutrally if you don't care for the conflict)

Redemption Variations

Most Truce Multiverses

Petty/Joke/Non Or Semi Serious Versions

Etc...

Examples of each exception except the first one because I haven't seen that yet:

Both Likable: Nightmare may be DadMare, neutral, hold his own morals that from his perspective are understandable, or secretly still cares for Dream. Dream may be angsty, close to canon, naive, or also hold his side of morals that are still valid I've also seen one where he's been manipulated by the village so any toxic (behavior isn't/beliefs aren't) his fault. (I think it was called RoseVerse, found it on YT, really cool stuff!)

Redemption Variations: This mainly revolves around Nightmare redeeming himself, or the group as a whole, possible P!Nightmare.

Truce Multiverses: Self explanatory, The Stars (Or in this case, mostly Dream) and Nightmare's Group (Again, in this case, mostly Nightmare) agree on a truce

Semi To Non Serious Multiverses: Joke comics can follow the observation but also not since they're not canon anyways, like Roxy's overprotective Nightmare (StareMare!) drawings, or The Worst Smile comic (I think... That was the name...)

Summary: DreamTale's Balance shtick and the pattern of having one Apple Brother likable rendering the other unlikable is so common, I propose it as sort of a common occurring rule(?) that has some exceptions because this fandom is limitless regardless of it's patterns

#dreamtale #dreamtale au #dreamtale dream #dreamtale nightmare #dream sans #passive nightmare #passive nightmare sans #nightmare sans #undertale au #sans au #utmv headcanons #headcanon #au sans #fandom #utmv #ut au #utmv au #ut aus #utmv sans #utmv dream #utmv nightmare #MZM Rambles A Lot

[kiwitio]

Ted Talk 3 :3

It's late, I'm raging, Time for another I HAVE TO SAY THIS CUZ IT ANNOYS THE SHIT OUTTA ME. Appoligies for my bad english, i haven't slept propally in two weeks.

Today's topic: Mischaracterizet Undertale and AU's Characters.

Okay first Character, Nightmare Sans.

He is the literally Guardian and embodiment of all Negativity, of course he won't give a shit about his henchmen or some random Human. But that isn't what annoys the living hell out of me. It's people who go on and post how others can't have their headcanon of dadmare, or him being a little bit friendly to some people. Yes. Nightmare is Canonicly a fucking asshole, tho that doesen't mean other's can't have their own headcanons and imagen him being a dad figure or a decent brother after a truce or smt. I personally find comfort in Nightmare being not a complete dick, but i do know that Canonicly, he would have a stick up his ass and don't give a single shit. And many other's know that too.

Before i write a whole essay about just him, let's move on to the next, Swap Sans.

I like how the fandom has potrayed Blue, the babied version of Swap, as like a brother and not the original Character. I really love the Idea and we have both Characters. Though what annoys me is people saying "yeah! Don't baby swap he is a grown man! He's papyrus in Sans's body" but the same people go on and potray Papyrus as a fucking baby, that he's weak and what the hell not all. If you go on and make a argument, make it right. You baby Papyrus, but are annoyed when people baby THE LITERAL SWAPPED VERSION OF HIM?? Like he has the same personality god fuck.

OR FOR FUCKS SAKE WHO IN THE HELL TOLD YA'LL HORROR IS A CANIBAL?

He is literally starving himself cuz he doesen't want to eat human's or other monsters!! This annoys me so fucking much, i absoloutly hate when people say he is a canibal and shit like that.

Moving on from skeletons, Chara and Frisk. They.are.Children.

The genocide THE PLAYER did, is not Frisk's fault. I myself think of Chara as the player, as they have our name and stuff. Though as that they both have no part in the genocide.

It's OUR fault.

WE the player controlled them, possesed Frisk into killing.

To stop this and not let myself get put of hand, i will stop this now. What do you think of this? And other Characters who has been wronged?

With that, goodnight and see you next time.

#undertale #underverse #nightmare sans #bad sanses #sans #papyrus #swap au #swap sans #ted talks

[biolizardboils]

Crumpled Up Pages: Old Captain Underpants WIP #10

This is the last part, I swear lol. Holy cow, I did not expect how long it’d take to bring this one to a presentable state. As fun as it’s been to brush up half-forgotten ideas from the depths of my hard drive, I’m glad to have finally finished!

Again, same ground rules as Part 1. I’ll also be referencing some WIPs from Part 2 here, so you might wanna keep that handy in another tab.

Before we get to the main event: I used to jot ideas down in my blog’s drafts before transferring them to documents, so I dug really deep into my 100+ drafts for anything that might’ve been left behind. Sure enough, there was a whole list of drabble ideas in there! They’re all super short, so I wanna go over them for the sake of leaving no stone unturned.

(Movie-verse) George has a nightmare about Harold losing his Hahaguffawchuckleamalus

(Book-verse) Monster Stuff happens at school while the Boys are home sick, so another kid or kids have to fill in for them! I imagined they thought ahead and hid a comic somewhere that explains how to get Captain, while also leaving out The Truth somehow? (i.e. “Find Mr. Krupp, turn away from him, snap your fingers, and don’t turn around until you hear Captain arrive”?) Looking back this might be too contrived, even for this series lol

(Either) The Boys rig the intercoms to blast this song just as Melvin accepts a Perfect Attendance award lmao. (Fun fact I swear I didn’t know until this year: one of the “gangstas” in that video is Jordan Peele. What are the odds)

(Either) 5 Times the Boys were mad at having to drop what they’re doing because someone snapped + 1 Time they accepted that It Just Be Like That and just enjoyed Captain’s company

(Either) A study of how Piqua's adults and kids cope with the Weird Stuff differently. The adults deny, downplay, send each other to that one hospital for threatening the routines they don’t like, but can’t imagine life without. The kids feel lost without their parents' guidance, but enjoy the break from status quo and trust in an impossible hero. I wrote “like Derry, Maine but funnier” here lol

(Book-verse) The boys mess around with the Combine-O-Tron 2000 and end up fused Gem-style. There was this common idea floating around called Gerald (Buttchins surname optional) and I wanted to play with that

(Book-verse) Expanding on the Li’l Wiseguy Novelty Company! I actually did a little of this here and here, then stopped cus what I came up with was too similar to this SCP character

(Book-verse) The Boys develop phobias after Book 3 (zombies for George, aliens for Harold) and help each other work around them. George leaves a sleepover early when everyone votes to watch My Boyfriend’s Back and calls him a scaredy-cat, so Harold invites him over to watch something else. Harold can’t finish Ecco The Dolphin and laments the money he wasted renting it for weeks on end, but George plays the last levels for him so he can see the ending. This would’ve led into an Aesop on how silly-seeming phobias and triggers are still valid.

(Book-verse) Harold and Heidi debate who would win in a fight: Boomer or Gamera (the turtle kaiju on TV in Book 5). It's just a screaming match until they realize that both characters protect children, then they truce. (I was gonna give Gamera a parody name to match Boomer's Barney, like “Gammagon” or something)

(Movie-verse) Something to do with the Edith-is-an-alien theory? I remember a joke about someone citing her blue eyes as evidence, cus that must look unnatural in a world where everyone else’s eyes are black lol

(Either) The Boys go through their Sonic phase because I’m just that predictable lol. George would’ve loved the stories, Harold would’ve drawn OCs

——————————————————————————————————

And now, our feature presentation…

WIP #10: Captain Underpants and the Wish Of the Waistband Warrior

They created the greatest superhero in the history of their elementary school… but that was all in the past future!

Time travelers George and Harold make a pit stop in 1950-something, a peculiar time when strangers filled your gas tank for you and every band sounded like The Beach Boys. They don’t plan on staying very long, but that changes when they meet a kid who’s familiar and different all at once. Can they safely leave the past without preventing the future? And how will their new friend change how they view their greatest enemy…? 

Have you read your UNDERPANTS today? [Book!Verse, post-Book 12.]

This is it—the big one. My last attempt at publishing something CU-related, but definitely not the least. Drawing ideas and even entire scenes from the last few attempts, Wish was meant to be a love letter to the book series, disguised as a new installment in it.

Yeah, that logo I posted once? I was gonna make an entire fake Book 13 to go with it. Illustrations, chapters, made-up copyright info, the works! 

...Before wisely scaling it back into a normal fic, and then cancelling the idea altogether. But anyway, that’s why writing this one up took so long—its document is formatted way differently than the other 9, and I didn’t want to leave out stuff from the Book Hoax phase. Most of that stuff will be at the bottom because spoilers, but here’s what I can share now to contextualize the actual story:

I planned on posting snippets of it at a time and claiming it had leaked from Scholastic to drum up interest. Then upon release in PDF form, I'd subtitle it as “The Twelfth-and-a-Half Epic Novel by Alms Givings” to prevent confusion in the future. I think I considered cutting “Captain Underpants and” from the title too, because it’s crossed out in some places in the doc.

My goals for the project were to tie up Book 12′s biggest loose end and to affirm Kernel Theory in a believable, canon-compliant way. I took Dav’s comment on how he could’ve made Krupp more human as a go-ahead to do so—if he hadn’t said that, I likely never would’ve tried it.

The plot was my take on an idea that’d been floating around Tumblr for some time (the Boys time travel to when Krupp was a kid and it makes them Think About Things). I think @tornrose24​ was the one who came up with it; at least, her post is the first mention I could find of it anywhere.

I remember canning the project because I couldn’t think of a more dramatic climax; what’s here skips awkwardly from rising action to falling action, and it’s not a long or remarkable fall. (Other people have taken the concept further since, most recently being @infini-tree’s Jammer as outlined here. Go read that and search for “Jammer” on her blog if you want a cooler version of what I did!)

Speaking of what I did, let’s finally get into that! Wish mostly followed the George and Harold that left for time-travel adventures in Melvin’s Squid Suit (referred to as the Time!Boys from here on out). The book’s Forward, of course, was them summarizing the last 12 books with a comic. I never made that comic, but I did write dialogue for their usual address to the reader:

H: Hi everybody! It’s been a while, huh? We thought you might want a refresher before you see what we’ve been up to…

G: …So here’s a comic that’ll explain everything! Just don’t let it fall into the wrong hands, okay?

Ya’ll ‘ready KNOW how Chapter 1: George and Harold begins and ends. In the middle, it would’ve established their new normal: time-traveling in the Squid Suit, looking for Sulu and Crackers, taking care of the Hamsterdactyls, and causing some mischief along the way. Sometimes, though, they see things on their travels that make them think about their old lives. And one time, they ran into someone who made them rethink everything.

But before I can tell you THAT story, I have to tell you THIS story…

In Chapter 2: Awkward Class Reunion, the Time!Boys realize they’re hunting for treasure without a treasure map, and visit the Old!Boys for pointers (and a sleepover! I think I posted about this once but I can’t find it rn). So the Old!Boys hook them up with the best guy for the job: Old!Melvin!

The nerd’s mellowed out over the years, but he still freaks out upon seeing both sets of Boys. Like, he goes from “oh, that’s where my old Squid Suit went” to “STOP TIME-TRAVELING, YOU’RE NINE” to “SULU HAD KIDS WITH A QUETZALCOATLUS???” to “okay, if I can’t stop you, at least let me help you do it right”.

First he tries tracking Sulu’s place in time via GPS like in Book 11. Technology has advanced 20 years since then, so it should be easier than ever, right? 

Nope, it makes his computer crash. And then catch fire. But just before it crashes and catches fire, an error message claims that Sulu is somewhere where time and space don’t exist. That narrows it down to either before the Big Bang or after the Big Crunch. 

The Time!Boys fire up the Squid Suit, but Old!Melvin stops them and explains the risks. Taking a time machine to a timeless place is like driving a car into deep water: easy to get in, impossible to get back out. Ensuring a safe two-way trip requires… some wormhole-y, timey-wimey thing I never fleshed out. He offers to build the wormhole-thing, but he needs some artifacts from throughout Piqua’s history to keep it stabilized and locked onto the Boys’ time-signature. (I left a note to lampshade how Zelda-early-game-fetch-quest-y this is lol)

Cue Chapter 3: Tools of the Time Trade. The Squid Suit is outdated tech from Old!Melvin’s perspective, so he upgrades it! Here are the patch notes:

It can camouflage now! “What was I thinking, making a time machine constantly glow-in-the-dark?”

One of its tentacles hides a built-in Forgetchamacallit 4000, a new model of the memory-wiping device from Book 7. It can erase specific memories from as far back as a week. “I don’t trust you two not to play Pogs with 1800’s settlers or something, so use this after you’ve had your fun.”

And finally, a small hatch under the cockpit leads to a Holographic Oasis for Melancholy Explorers, aka HOME: a faithful replication of the Boys’ backyards, complete with treehouse! “Homesickness during long-term time travel is a real concern. Don’t look too hard into me doing this for you, it’s just common courtesy.”

Then he tells the Boys where and when to find the first Artifact. I never decided what it would be, only that it could be found in the late 1950’s. They thank Old!Melvin sincerely, and then it’s off to Chapter 4: 1950-Something!

——————————————————————————————————

The Boys hide the Squid Suit in a thicket near Jerome Horwitz, then head into town to start their search. They don’t find the Artifact, but they do find a vintage toy store that they really wanna shop at. So they head back to the school and, after humorously navigating a pre-digital teacher’s lounge, make a comic to sell for some time-appropriate money.

(Chapter 5 would’ve been that comic, of course. I planned on making up a one-off hero for it, cus the Boys using Captain or Dog Man before they were born would have Obvious Time Travel Consequences.)

In Chapter 6, they earn enough money to buy the toys and some extra supplies for their stay. As they try to remember where they parked the invisible Squid Suit, they hear someone enter the thicket and hide in the bushes. They peek out and see a kid their age walk up to a puddle, tie a red towel around his neck, and spout superhero-y affirmations to himself. His face and voice remind the Boys of two people they’ve been trying not to think about, but they figure it’s coincidence… until the kid calls himself Benny.

George and Harold slid back into the bushes.

“Is it just me,” George whispered, “or did that kid kinda look like…?”

“Yeah,” Harold said shakily. “But he was talking sorta like…!”

“I know! You don’t think…?”

Harold began to fidget. “Oh, man… What if he sees us and the timeline gets all messed up again?”

“Then we just won’t let him see us,” said George. “No matter what he says or does, we’re not getting involved. I repeat: We are NOT getting involved!”

Just then, something parted the bushes, exposing the boys to the afternoon sun.

“Hey, beans!” Benny greeted them. “Are you two new around here?”

“Uh-oh,” said Harold. “I think we’re involved.”

I can see this page clear as day: Benny crawling further into the bushes and being all friendly, and the Boys backing away and sweating like mad. Their backs hit an invisible dead-end—the Squid Suit!—and Harold scrambles for the Forgetchamacallit while George plays along with Benny's small talk.

The new kid asks for their names, so George makes some up: Bobby Georgia and Mike Harrington. Benny thinks their last names sound funny, and shares his own: Siskin.

The Boys freeze, suddenly feeling very silly for panicking over nothing. They whisper a bit and chalk up the resemblance to bad writing.

Now that that’s sorted out, they ease up and ask Benny what the puddle thing was about. He’s embarrassed that they saw, but is surprisingly quick to come clean. Cue Chapter 7: So Start Ignition, Count To Zero…

“I just wanna be a superhero.

[...] “‘Cus there’s lots of bad things happenin’ all the time. Things I can’t do a thing about. But I wanna do a thing about ‘em! I wanna stop the bad guys, and I wanna be there for people who need help!”

“… And, uh, havin’ cool powers would be neat, too.”

Benny looks away, as if expecting to get laughed at for his silly little dream.

The Boys simply stare at him. Usually they’d discuss what to do, but they’re both consumed by an idea they fear the other will judge him for. Something’s been missing from their lives for a while—though they can’t admit it—and now they see a chance to fill that void.

“We can help you.”

George and Harold blurt it out at the same time. Then they look at each other in disbelief, as if to say “No we can’t, what are you DOING?” But Benny looks up at them with such excitement and hope in his eyes, that they can’t bear to take it back. 

And so, they put their search for the Artifact on hold and hatch a plan to grant their new friend’s wish… at least for a little while.

(I thought of having them offer to be his sidekicks specifically here, but then I reread the books and realized that’s a Movie-only thing. Also, this is where I stopped coming up with Chapter names.)

——————————————————————————————————

The next day, the Boys buy even more supplies and meet Benny Siskin in the town square. They explain their experience with making up superheroes, and how that makes them qualified to teach him how to be one.

“REALLY???” Benny exclaimed, wide-eyed. “But… that’s a big leap from just makin’ ‘em up on paper! Are you two sure you can teach me?”

“Are you kidding?” Bobby boasted. “It’ll be a snap!”

Lesson 1: protecting your identity! The Boys bought a mask and one-piece pajamas to go with Benny’s towel cape.

“Hey, there’s still somethin’ left in your shopping bag.” Benny reached in and pulled out a suspiciously skin-colored bathing cap.

“Uhhh…” Bobby stammered. “Th-That’s not ours.”

“It must’ve f-fallen into our cart when we weren’t l-looking,” offered Mike.

“Well, good thing it did,” Benny grinned, stretching the cap over his head. “Now no one will recognize me by my hair!”

Lesson 2: getting superpowers! Harold has Benny drink a carton of Extra-Strength Super Power Juice (actually just Sealtest orange juice with a new label), then asks him what powers he wants. His first answer is flight—so George lifts him up with the invisible Squid Suit’s tentacles! Then he wishes for super-strength and tries chopping a metal park bench in half—the Squid Suit does it milliseconds before his hand hits (cus geez that would hurt), but he thinks it was all him anyway.

Lesson 3: Knowing when to jump into action! For their narrative convenience, a little girl’s cat just happens to be stuck in a tree nearby. After Benny “flies” in to retrieve it, the girl runs off to tell her skeptical mom about her superhero encounter. (Said girl happens to be wearing cowboy boots with stars on them.)

(I tried not to have the Boys suggest anything specifically Captain-y to Benny, just encouraged what was already there. The idea is that they didn’t put the Kernel there, just heated it up a bit.)

The Boys declare Benny a graduate of their College O’ Hero-ing and set him loose, secretly following him in the Squid Suit to provide his “powers.” I planned on drawing this as a montage, having the Boys’ expressions change as Benny helps people with their everyday problems. At first they’d be visibly worried, even having the Forgetchamacallit out in case things go south. But they don’t, so they start to relax. By the end, they’re smiling just as much as Benny :)

I never set in stone what exactly happens next; the following is just the scenario I lingered on the longest.

The montage ends when the Boys spot something in the window of an important building—the Artifact! They rush inside and nab it when nobody’s looking, overjoyed to have completed their mission in the middle of goofing off from it. Maybe you can have your cake and eat it too!

But when they walk out, Benny’s already wandered out of sight. They scour the city for him until they hear an alarm bell ringing a few blocks away. They hurry over to find a familiar scene: two robbers stepping out of Frank’s Bank… and Benny standing in their way and ordering their surrender.

Benny throws a punch before the Boys can even react. One of the robbers catches his fist, lifts him by the arm, and tosses him aside. Benny hits the sidewalk hard—not enough to need a hospital or leave lifelong marks, but enough to leave him shaken—as the crooks hurry to their getaway car and speed away.

The Boys rush over to ask if he’s okay. Benny starts to answer, but freezes up at the sight of something behind them. The Boys turn around to see the held-up adults streaming out of the bank… including a man with a familiar scowl, and a woman with a familiar build. They spot their son and come running; the mother to check him for injuries, but the father… 

I didn’t write dialogue here, but he was going to rant about how he should’ve put a stop to Benny’s superhero obsession sooner. He also would’ve yelled at the Boys for encouraging his silly ideas and forbid them from coming near him again.

Benny shoots the Boys an apologetic look as his parents drag him away. The Boys leave the scene just as the police arrive.

——————————————————————————————————

George and Harold have half a mind to leave for the future right there, but it doesn’t feel right. Instead they head back to the thicket and retire to their holographic treehouse for the night. They don’t get much sleep—there’s something the two clearly want to discuss with each other, but neither has the courage to bring it up.

They linger in the thicket the next day, hoping to see Benny again before they leave. They’re about to give up when he finally appears, visibly disheartened, but happy that the Boys waited for him.

He explains that his dad always thought his love of superheroes was a waste—that worrying about other people’s needs would get him nowhere—and that yesterday was the final straw. That night, his dad had made him throw out all his comics and toys and promise to “straighten himself out.” The Boys apologize, but he insists it was a long time coming. He also admits that he knew they were pulling “some kinda smoke-and-mirrors” on him yesterday, but thanks them anyway for helping grant his wish for a day.

He pulls out the one thing he’d saved from his dad’s purge, an official superhero comic book, and offers it to them as a parting gift. As fun as it’s been, he plans to make good on his promise, and claims it’s better if they all just forgot about each other and what they did together.

They all hug and say goodbye. Then, after some hesitation, the Boys zap Benny with the Forgetchamecallit and finally head back to the future... but in their hurry to leave, they drop his last comic in the grass. 

Benny opens his eyes and picks it up. All he knows is that his dad has finally thrown out all his superhero stuff, and that if he brings it home it’ll share the same fate.

Something about the situation makes him snap. Frustration fills him up until he’s shaking and ready to burst. And burst he does—by baring sharp teeth and ripping the comic in half.

He drops the pieces into a puddle, horrified less by what he’s done and more by how relieving it felt to do it. Overwhelmed and holding back tears, he runs back home, leaving the pieces to rot away.

Here I planned to draw another montage, this time of Benny growing up. I wanted its narration to both echo this passage from Book 10 and explain the lesson he’d taken away from that day: between sadness and anger, it felt a little better to choose anger. There’s notes here calling to explain (not justify, just explain) this thinking: it demanded people’s attention and made him feel more in control of situations. It got him through many things, and over time became his tool of choice—perhaps even his only tool. And when your only tool is a hammer, one tends to treat everything like a nail.

The only scene I locked into this montage was of his parents getting divorced, and him and his mother readopting her maiden name: Krupp.

——————————————————————————————————

The Boys arrive at Old!Melvin’s place and hand him the Artifact. He starts telling them where to find the next Artifact, but stops because they don’t seem very into it (don’t worry if you forgot this was part of a longer quest, so did they). They ask to take a break from time travel and walk back to their Old! selves’ homes under a setting sun.

On the way there, they finally reflect on why they leapt at the chance to help Benny …but not before admitting that they saw right through the last-name-misdirection thing and figured he was Mr. Krupp all along. (Harold would’ve even nailed that the name change was due to divorce—after all, he would know.)

So why had they risked changing the past and helped him anyway? It takes them some effort to dig beneath “he looked so sad” and “it just seemed like fun” and confess the real reason to each other: they were trying to recreate their time with Captain. They couldn’t admit it earlier because it seemed silly; running after him whenever Krupp heard snapping had been stressful, so why did they suddenly want that back?

At the end of Book 12, they’d jumped right into finding Sulu and Crackers; I wanted to posit here that they did so to take their minds off the messed-up stuff they’d just gone through, including the final bombshell that Captain was suddenly gone. But they hadn’t forgotten it, just refused to talk about or process it. It finally hits them on their older selves’ front steps—their greatest creation, one who’d saved their lives more than once, is effectively dead—and they stop to comfort each other accordingly.

Suddenly, something else hits them too: Mr. Krupp had liked superhero comics as a kid. They think back to when they’d found their confiscated comics in his cabinet in Book 1 (to quote the holy text: “He’s got every issue!”) Then they remember how Captain often knew what had happened in their latest issue, sometimes on the same day they’d written them (swinging on toilet paper in Book 3, his spray starch weakness in Book 5). Then they realize that in order for Krupp to become Captain while hypnotized, he had to know what Captain was like in the first place.

And so, sitting on their future front porch as the stars emerge, George and Harold come to a stunning conclusion: Mr. Krupp had been reading their comics the whole time. Not only that, but from what they now know about his past, there might’ve been more to the Captain’s existence than meets the eye…

The illustrations here would’ve shown the Boys imagining what had happened in Krupp’s head that fateful day. I planned to draw the dream-ish sequence described in WIP #9: Recall, but with the Movie-specific imagery removed.

The following excerpt was meant to accompany this sequence. It reads like the tail end of a longer statement, but it seems this is all that’s left.

He could run around in a cape and not even care if people looked at him funny!

He could help people like he’d always wanted… and this time, nothing could stop him.

He was now the greatest superhero of all time: The Amazing Captain Underpants!

Realizing all this strangely brings the Boys some peace. The next part is formatted as if it was meant for a multi-page spread with major focus on the illustrations, but I didn’t write down what to draw for it.

Captain Underpants, as they knew him, was gone. But they were happy to know that, just maybe…

… somewhere deep inside Mr. Krupp’s cold heart…

… the wish that had made the Captain who he was still remained.

Right where it had always been.

Their revelation is interrupted by the Old!Boys opening the door and bringing them inside. Their kids and spouses have gone to bed, so the Time!Boys take the chance to ask them how they dealt with Captain’s “exit” at their age.

To Make A Long Story Short: they hadn’t. Not at first, anyway.

First the Old!Boys explain how they found out Captain was gone (told in a flashback retooled from WIP #7: Coda). Then they admit to snapping around Krupp for a week after, just in case. They’d even considered using the Hypno-Ring on him again, but the idea just felt wrong. (And even if it hadn’t, I planned to reveal that it had been crushed under the TV when the treehouse got jostled in Book 11.)

But eventually, the Yesterday!Boys talked it out and chose to honor their fallen friend’s memory in several ways. First they took the Ring and other trinkets from their adventures, sealed them in their old carton of Super Power Juice, and buried it under their backyard tree. Then they designed a mural of Captain and the bad guys he fought (art by Harold, written dedication by George) and installed it somewhere in the school that only kids could squeeze into to see.

Finally, although they never went back to writing comics about him, they started giving him cameos in their Dog Man series like in WIP #8: Letter Column. George would write a scene that called for a crowd shot, and Harold would find the perfect spot to hide him. They kept this tradition going until it became another part of their lives, and their lives had slowly but surely moved on. They’d graduated, they’d met their spouses, they’d had their kids, and they’d gotten Dog Man published.

And all the while—as they show the Time!Boys by opening their latest books—the Captain had been with them.

But now that they have money and a respectable public image, the Old!Boys reveal that they’re planning one last memorial act: petitioning Piqua’s government to revive the Great Outdoor Underwear Festival, with all proceeds going to improving local schools. If the city gives them the go-ahead, they want to hold it on September 1st. (They mention that last part while winking very unsubtly.)

The Time!Boys get the hint, rush back outside, and set the Squid Suit’s coordinates for that date. And sure enough, they emerge in a town with festivities well underway. Red banners with black polka dots line the buildings, floats sponsored by Snotco parade the streets, and everyone has their underwear over their clothes and a wide grin on their faces.

They weave through the crowds and spot the Old!Boys getting interviewed by the Eyewitness 4 News crew. They wisely lay low to avoid exposing time travel live on camera and listen as Ingrid Ashley asks why they weren’t doing something more in line with their comics, like a dog festival.

I never fully wrote out the Old!Boys’ response, but I wanted its core message to be that underwear is what all people have in common, “from the highest king to the lowliest peasant,” and that acknowledging it brings them to the same level. Just as Ingrid starts to look sorry she asked, they wrap up the interview on this note:

“As an old friend of ours always said... Never underestimate the power of underwear!”

The news crew sets the men free, and they run off to rejoin their families. The Time!Boys decide to leave them be, duck behind a dumpster, and reemerge with their underwear on the outside. Raring to enjoy the festival, they vanish from view into the crowd.

I didn’t plan any narration or dialogue for the book’s last few pages, but I had some very clear visuals in mind:

The Yesterday!Boys’ mural, faded and chipping, but still standing 20 years later.

Jerome Horwitz benefitting from the Festival’s proceeds, as well as generally becoming a better school over time. The document calls for “more teachers like Ms. Chivess: willing to engage, sympathize, and even laugh with their students”.

Kids still drawing Captain in their notebooks and speaking of his good deeds in legend, just as real kids still draw the Cool S and sing the jump rope songs of old.

And finally: an older, retired Mr. Krupp watching the Festival in his living room. He would shake his head with an I-can’t-believe-I’m-seeing-this smile, and get up to do something else… but leaving the TV on.

——————————————————————————————————

And there you have it :)

We’ve got lots of document-bottom-extras to cover this time. First, a list of ideas I toyed with but never fit into the outline. I’ll let you judge if there was room for them:

Flashbacks to the Boys having Captain around just for fun. I think I shelved this because it made sense in Movie-verse, but not Book-verse, where they only snap during emergencies as sad as that is.

Giving Benny a favorite superhero—I couldn’t decide whether to make one up or just use a real hero from the Silver Age of Comics. (Let’s face it, I probably would’ve just gone with Superman.)

The elusive Jasper Krupp! I remember Dav announcing his existence after I’d started on Wish, and I drew him as a baby a few months later. Maybe I could’ve stuck him into the Frank’s Bank scene in a baby stroller.

The Hamsterdactyls having plot relevance? As you can see, I forgot to give them something to do lol. Maybe they could’ve just stayed with Old!Melvin, he’d probably want to study them thanks to their unique lineage.

The Time!Boys actually saving Sulu and Crackers. I chose to keep it a distant goal, but came close to just having them fulfill it as part of the plot

The Time!Boys reading the Yesterday!Boys’ Dog Man series so I could relate their themes to the plot. Specifically, I wanted to draw parallels between Krupp and Petey… and, in the same vein, Captain and Li’l Petey. (Please consider listening to this song from the musical and losing your mind like I did a few months ago)

The usual once-per-book stuff, like sign gags and Flip-O-Rama. I remember debating whether Wish could be a worthy successor without them

I REALLY wanted to end it with Something Fun instead of just linking to my blog and stuff. Like, “If you X because of Y on Page Z, send a message saying ‘Hey, I X because of Y on Page Z!’ to biolizardboils.tumblr.com. I’ll send you something fun!” Don’t ask what I would’ve sent, I never thought that far ahead lmao

At least one self-deprecating joke about this not being an official CU book lol

I briefly toyed with the idea that Jerome Horwitz was a better school once, maybe even a fun one. It was named after one of the Stooges, after all. Not to mention, the school’s held more than one event that clashes with the whole no-fun-or-creativity thing, like the annual field trip to Piqua Pizza Palace in Book 4. I figured stuff like that was put in place by the district, or some other higher level that Krupp couldn’t challenge. (I never thought of making up a superintendent and might have facepalmed when they introduced one in Epic Tales lol)

One idea I had for the Artifact tied into this: a brick from a room in the school that was later demolished to cut costs.

Now for more stuff from the Book-13-Hoax phase! First, I left behind a brief plan of what to draw for the book’s title page (not cover, that’s different). It would’ve looked similar to the one in Book 1, but with the Hamsterdactyls added, the Boys smiling instead of worrying, and Benny in place of Captain. (I imagine he would’ve been just off-page for the Bad Writing joke to still work.)

Here’s a Table of Contents I slapped together as a test. Only the chapter titles I’ve already mentioned were locked in, the rest are song names and phrases I thought fit thematically and added to fill up more of the page. I think the crossed-out ones on the bottom were "disqualified" for giving too much of the game away.

Book 5 opens with a quote from Einstein, and I thought of doing something similar. Here are some of the candidates:

“So, like a forgotten fire, a childhood can always flare up again within us.” — Gaston Bachelard

“Every child is an artist. The problem is how to remain an artist once he grows up.” — Pablo Picasso

“Can you remember who you were, before the world told you who you should be?” — Danielle Laporte

And finally, the music segment! Wish’s document doesn’t have a Mood Ref section... but it does have a link to a 49-song playlist. I won’t be sharing the full thing because it’s too long and disorganized, so here’s some highlights instead:

Every song I’ve already linked to in this series (except the Biggie one)

Mid-century songs that fit the setting, like Mr. Sandman, Yakety Yak, and Tutti Frutti

Songs from that psyrock EarthBound album I gushed about that one time

These ones listed back to back that I think represented the Georges and Harolds: Good Day by Jukebox The Ghost, Good Old Days by Macklemore, and Champagne Supernova by Oasis

In the same vein, I think these ones were meant for Benny: The Great Pretender by Roy Orbison, The Last Waltz by Engelbert Humperdinck, and Hero by Nickelback

I Will Remember You by Ed Helms (I’ve never even watched The Office but oh god this one hurts)

Songs that ended up on The Warden/Mr. Blue Sky, including Used To Be A Sweet Boy, both versions of Superman, and The Banana Splits theme song

To close out this whole thing, I wanna share my favorite song on the playlist: Used To Be by Cody Fry. I heard it at my day job and left the floor to jot down the words, they broke me and I didn’t want to forget them.

Captain Underpants does not provide a moral for adults, because it wasn't written for adults—and that’s more than okay, it’s great! That being said, rediscovering the series in adulthood did teach me something. It was that something that I tried to embody in Wish and that this song captures perfectly: Don't forget the kid you used to be, so you can better understand and provide for the kids of today.

...Oh wait, I almost forgot! Hey, @jackie-sugarskull! I hope all this makes up for my tease—sorry it took nearly five years!

#mr. krupp #benjamin krupp #benny krupp #baby benny #dav pilkey #cu books #captain underpants: the first epic movie #captain underpants the first epic movie #captain underpants and the wish of the waistband warrior #long #me talking #old!george #old!harold #george beard #george #harold hutchins #harold #crumpled up pages #my writes #captain underpants #cu

[ivyprism]

The Truce (Outcode Story)

Warnings: Fighting, Dust! Sans, Killer! Sans, Nightmare! Sans, many of things, blood, etc.

Spiro was tossed by Ink with little time to respond. To keep himself from falling further, he stuck his knife into the earth. He could hear the ground reacting this his knife. As Rune approached to assault Tusche, he smirked a bit. Rune was not someone to mess with. Tusche created an ink wall to block Rune's strike, but Morte sprang from the shadows and flung Tusche. Acrylic snatched his brother's scarf as he riveted his gaze on the group. Spiro could hear Bliss and Dusk squabbling as well as Bliss's drabble about how they needed to make amends.

"Get up." Dagger huffed as Spiro smiled and nodded. Acrylic rapidly prepared his paints. Dagger, as usual, appeared to have not slept. As a little swirl of power formed around Dagger, he prepared his next attack. Acrylic glared at him as some sort of magic encircled him. However, there was a sense of magic surrounding them. There were exclamation points beneath them.

"MOVE!" Rune yelled as he dove for Dagger's collar, and Morte followed as Comet yanked Acrylic back. Lightning strikes the floor, causing it to fracture under the pressure. With a glare, Rune stood up. But everyone seemed to be frozen in confusion. Spiro brandished a knife at the opposite party.

"What was that?!" As the opposition group flared a little at the threat, Spiro urged.

"That had absolutely nothing to do with us!" Acrylic protested and Lenovo yanked on his strings. Acrylic assailed him, putting an end to his brief respite. As he charged the other skeleton, one of his paints produced a big blue bone as he charged the opposite skeleton. The battle had resumed. Spiro and Dagger were attempting to tag team Comet. Comet kept up as he fought back. The struggle raged on, becoming bloodier and more vicious by the minute. However, as the AU began to break and blasters were poised to collide…

They halted as they watched someone they'd never seen before redirecting the attack away from them into the air. After the light faded, there was a woman bursting with magic and wearing a mask that resembled a skull staring back at them. Lenovo tensed as he saw her morph into a skeleton with a face that looked just like the mask-like visage. She turned to face the group.

"It appears that my first deterrent had no effect." Her silky, almost icy voice made the audience quiver. Her purple eyes darted around the room, looking at the skeletons.

"Who exactly are you?" As the skeleton's gaze returned to him, Dusk demanded. As he stared at her, her purple eyes blazed.

"The one who is stopping this... exhausting and needless war." The woman responded as she looked around and under her gaze, many felt nervous. "But if you need a name, my name is Senna." Senna coolly stated.

"Needless? They will not listen!" Tusche objected and opened his mouth again as Senna extended a hand to him. Her appearance transforms into that of a human woman wearing a mask similar to her skull and sporting long white hair. Her form would be easy to call… unstable.

"You didn't even try," Senna retorted, making the guardian tighten and back off a little. "I've been following this… mess for a long time."

"How come we have never seen you before?" Acrylic stared at her, perplexed. Senna groaned slightly as she adjusted her gloves. A piece of paper appears as she snaps.

"Enough with the foolish questions." Senna took a peek around the room. "You all have to talk about it and sign this," Senna said almost like a command. The others gazed at her, puzzled, as she held it. "It's a treaty… A truce agreement. Whatever you want to name it." Senna's steely eyes locked with the rest of the gang. There was immediate backlash… until.

"I think it's a good idea," Umbra spoke up, drawing everyone's attention to him. "I mean, there has to be a balance between destroying and creating." Umbra gave a nod. Comet, Lucien, and Morte all nodded in accord. They eventually persuaded the remainder of the group to sign the document. When the woman vanished, they couldn't recall her name… However, they were forced to clean up.

-------

Hehehehoo, lore.

Dreamtale is by Jokublog

Error is by CrayonQueen

Dusttale and Killer Sans escape me rn.

#fghdoighg #dreamtale #dream sans #nightmare sans #nightmare papyrus #dream papyrus #dreamtale papyrus #killer sans #dust sans #dusttale #the forgotten assistant skelesona #the forgotten assistant #tenebrous au papyrus #tenebrous papyrus #tenebrous au #luminus au #luminus papyrus #luminus au papyrus #inktale #ink sans #ink papyrus #lihxgoiergh #short fic

[scarletslippers]

For the touch prompts

Nace + Touching 9

With the whole FHK killer thing and Nancy’s nightmare, you know the one, I imagine you could create some real angst with that

Again, let it be known that the angst was requested. Just trying to give the people what they want!

This partially came from the idea that if Nace were together, Nancy’s comment about ‘instincts she hadn’t followed about Trott’ would be entirely accurate. Just me and my Established Nace Agenda™️ brain rot.

I hope you like it!!! The rest is under the cut, or Read on AO3

Touching #9 - Listening to the other’s heartbeat

She’s not expecting it, the first time. Ace running to her at her scream like his life depended on it. Not expecting to be tugged into an embrace so that he can hide her face in him, shielding her from looking at the body for too long. But he does it, and the sound of his heartbeat, pounding roughly and racing beneath her ear is surprisingly comforting.

The second time, because of course there’s a second time, he sweeps an arm across her shoulders to turn her away from the grisly sight. She’s seen many a body before, but something about Ace wanting to protect her from this brings tears to her eyes. She snakes one hand up in thanks to grip the one on her shoulder, thumb searching along his wrist until she finds it. His pulse. Finally, her breath starts to steady.

The third time, she’s all bravado, trying desperately to cover how she’s shaking like a leaf. That fall had taken everything out of her, and all she can feel is the imprint of Ace’s hands, under her arm, on her back, branded into her skin. All she can see is his eyes looking her up and down, checking for injuries. Hears his voice yelling her name, reassuring her I got you, even as he strains to pull her up. She’d wanted to collapse right there, drop her forehead to his collarbone and weep, be held. But that wasn’t really an option, so she’d dug into the facts instead, piecing together the life of a man executed 50 years ago.

They’ve taken two steps back out into the startling sunshine when Ace pulls her in, letting George go on ahead. He holds her tightly against her trembling and she fists her hands into the sides of his jacket. His breath is steady against her, and there. His heartbeat.

Later, when the day has more than caught up to them, she slumps against the side of Florence, spent. Sneaks her fingers around Ace’s wrists, and sighs quietly as she finds his pulse. “When were you planning to tell me you spent the day possessed by Joe Kelsey?”

“When were you planning to tell me you used yourself as bait to lure a serial killer?”

“I had backup!” She protests. “I had a plan!”

“I had backup too. Bess was on me all day.” He pauses to regard her, gently tugs his wrists out of her grasp to slide his hands into hers. “Does that make us even?” A squeeze of his fingers. “Truce?”

“Truce.”

The fourth time she’s never been more grateful to see him, to hear his voice calling her out of the hellscape in her head. Warm grasp delicate under her hands, plucking doom from her fingers. They just stand there, both breathing heavily with the realization of how close they came, how close she came to being gone.

Nancy feels she might break with the need to be held, stretching shaking fingers out to him, laying a trembling hand against his chest. His heart is quick and strong beneath her palm but it’s not enough. She grips his shoulders and replaces her hand with her ear, the rough rhythm soothing her shaking frame. It takes a beat but Ace’s arms circle around her, holding her there.

“You should change out of these wet things. I told Nick we’d meet at the youth center.”

“Yeah, okay,” Nancy murmurs into his coat, making no attempt to move. Almost unconsciously she tilts her head, presses a kiss to the underside of his jaw. Ace freezes under her lips and she does too, pulling away in embarrassment, unable to look him in the eye.

Ace’s hand grips her, doesn’t let her get far, and suddenly he's kissing her. Deeply and firmly. Pulling away only to press two more kisses quickly to her lips before settling one on her forehead. He pulls away and smiles, one thumb rising to push wet hair from her eyes.

“I’ll wait here for you.”

—

It’s too new and unspoken for the full truth.

Yes, he’d held her hand the whole ride over in Florence. Let her shift her palm slightly off of his so she could hold her thumb to his pulse. Dropped her hand before they entered so they wouldn’t get interrogated.

But being asked what was your dream about? Now is not the time or the place to unpack that. She settles on a version of the truth, one that explains her conclusions but not how she came to them. His eyes seem heavy on her like he knows there’s more to the story, but she knows he won’t push. Later, she tries to say with her eyes, pleads before she hides again in her coffee.

She does explain it later, the two of them curled up on the couch in a thankfully empty youth center. Her head in its now customary place on his chest.

“That was your dream? I thought you said it was about Trott.” He tugs her closer, unable to keep the amusement out his voice, lips to her temple. “That doesn’t seem so bad.”

“It was horrible,” she whispers, not done. “You pulled away or I pushed you or something. And it was you but you sounded like Trott. It was his words coming out of your mouth - I’m a part of something much bigger. And then your chest froze in front of me, opened up and your heart was gone.”

He gently shifts her off of him at that, tucking one foot under himself as he turns to face her on the couch. Gathers her hands in his large ones, staring down at them as Nancy’s fingertips instinctively flutter to his wrists. His voice is thick with pain for her, resigned realization she doesn’t quite understand. “So that’s why you’ve been doing that, then.”

“Doing what?”

Ace wordlessly peels her fingers off his pulse, lays her palm flat against his chest where he knows she’ll be heading next. He holds her there, her cold fingers warming between hand and heart.

Nancy meets his eyes in surprise, although she shouldn’t be. Ace always figures her out. He pulls her in, fingers threaded through her hair to tug her forehead to his.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

#just kiss already #the established nace agenda #nace #nace fanfiction #nancy and ace #nancy drew cw #fic rec #my fic #100 followers celebration #help me celebrate #touch prompts #fanfiction

[noodlepai]

(OKAY okay so I've come to provide more information on the AU, I'm still working on it a lot so things might change or be added but I got a basic idea of what things are like rn !!)

Info dump moment rn, also TW for slight trauma mentions/hints

• Sam had managed to save the Wii from melting itself all those years ago, and is a pretty big person on tech, so she likes to experiment and try new things, and actively tries to help Eteled out or transfer him through devices so he isn't just stuck in one place all the time, with lots of trial and tons of error, especially since she knows the Wii's getting old and that it can be unstable occasionally with glitches

• Kyle has also taken a liking to learning more about technology through Sam's influence so he sometimes comes over and they both will just study and brainstorm ideas

• Sam moved out of her home and now lives in her own apartment, is in college to pursue her dream of working around and creating technology, hasn't really considered making a job out of it since she mostly does it for fun and likes to achieve her dream goals, Nathan and Kyle also occasionally visit to just hang out and do whatever, usually resulting in the three staying up very late into a movie or game night, and Eteled having to talk Sam into getting sleep for the next morning

• Even though Sam is big on all tech, consoles and video games, she still has a soft spot for old generation consoles in particular

• Sam, Nathan and Kyle had all gotten pretty close growing up so they're like a dumbass trio /lh

• Will moved out of state or some shit

• Kyle wakes up from his villain arc and makes a truce with Eteled /J.. FR though Kyle softens up and becomes more understanding of Eteled's side after they start talking it out, while what happened did bother him at the time all those years ago, he just kinda grew up to the point where it didn't have such of an effect on him anymore, I mean all he saw was a Mii get slice and diced, no need to go beast mode over it, so they forgive each other of the past

• Kyle and Nathan are besties to homosexuals, homie love

• Sam made a Mii of herself from when she was younger to keep Eteled company when going out or having to attend school, Eteled appreciated it but wouldn't wanna admit how it wasn't the same and about how much he would miss Sam when she had to get off the Wii

• Gives Eteled abandonment issues because I love being evil

• He's actually clingy on the inside but would never admit it to anyone

• Also views Sam as a sort of daughter figure besides just a friend but is too nervous to mention it, he wants Sam to be safe, loves whenever she talks or rants to him about anything or shows him something she made or is proud of, or even just anything at all, father Eteled is proud of his child/bestie

• He like, genuinely feels loved around her and would definitely cry about it but would never show it, or at least try not to

• Eteled has the favorite Mii pants because Sam put them on him, with quote "I think it's about time my best friend gets to rock a new style", and yes it did make him almost cry on the spot

• Austin is like, mentally conflicted as hell

• Austin and Eteled both feel guilty for what they've done to each other over the years, aren't sure they can or are ready to forgive the other but they're very slowly learning to tolerate each other

• They're like enemies to kinda friends in a way

• They're traumatized mfs

• They still sometimes fight but it's usually just yelling or saying shit now, they don't do the chair, deletion or axe really anymore since they at least got to the point where they respect each other's boundaries and triggers, and there's no point to keep doing the same old for over 10+ years, for the most part, they still slip up sometimes

• They do fuck up though occasionally so that's why Eteled has scars and Austin is a bit more bashed up

• They still have a rooted dislike for each other they're trying to get over but they sometimes chill out or talk, usually when Sam is asleep or off the Wii for a while, the two just will maybe visit or sit around to at least try to understand the other better

• Sam knows Austin is still around, and it took a while but with time she grew to accept him when he didn't seem like a big threat anymore, and that he was just as important of a soul as Eteled was, she still didn't like the fights and didn't know the full story

• She'd probably section them away from the other with a child gate if she could

• Austin of course has an ego and would never tell another soul that he has many nightmares of the server room and about what happens if he gets caught off guard or is sleeping when Eteled decides to attack him again, Eteled wouldn't do that, and Austin knows it but it's just the deep rooted fear he can't get rid of, even though he's much taller and technically more powerful than the smaller Mii

• Eteled is just tired, usually just sleeps in the Mii channel, especially when under stress or tires himself out if he's going through a moment, like triggered memories or emotions

• From all the deleting and the chair, and more crap from his early life, Eteled is just terrified of it all so even the idea of them scares the fuck out of him, so as a natural response he just tries to defend himself with his axe even if he would be shaking like a chicken, he really tries not to pull it out but he can't always stop himself

• The axe itself would probably also bother Austin a bit, but he would still try to cautiously calm Eteled down since he knows he's just afraid, so afterwards they'd probably have to awkwardly apologize for what the fuck happened at that very moment

• Sam sometimes offers them both to play a game together with her, or plans on playing with Eteled and invites Austin along, as a way to make them bond, they do end up having some fun though

• Eteled has seen and/or been around or within newer Nintendo consoles, but personally prefers being in the Wii since he's used to it the most, and it's the most comfortable and homey to him

• Oh yeah, if Austin or Eteled is having an episode or is deeply upset then the other will try to help sometimes if it's really bad, Austin tries to hide it more but it doesn't always work, yeah they have reasonable reasons to not like the other, but they aren't complete assholes

• They both got trauma memories and aren't gonna just watch the other suffer through it

• Austin may or may not have taken in what Eteled had said all that time ago about "Learning to move past the past", even though that technically makes Eteled a hypocrite when he's constantly beating himself up about shit mentally, even after years, they are both doing it tbh

• Also Kyle doesn't know about Austin 100% but is curious to know his story and who he is and used to be, and how he got in the Wii, especially after the passing of his family member of the same name, little does he know..

• Sam also doesn't know about any of it, neither Sam or Kyle know of what happened or Austin's story, Austin being in a tight spot since he doesn't wanna reveal his identity yet, knowing the possible reaction, for Eteled's sake, Sam's and especially Kyle's, and Eteled being absolutely fucking terrified since the fear of losing someone like Sam could become real, and the small but growing friendship he was slowly making with Kyle could go right back to hatred and wanting the small Mii deleted, not including the fact that he still eats at himself for his past actions so it being brought back up again would be a ✨mess✨

• Austin doesn't know if he forgives Eteled or not, but wants to try to move past it and not be reminded in any way

• Nathan is still a little lowkey scared of Eteled ngl, doesn't wanna upset him or anything and Eteled can tell, he probably sighs to himself but he can't blame the guy

• Kyle has thought about making another Mii of himself on what is now long been Sam's Wii, now that he's older and him and Eteled are rather chill, but decided against it since he wasn't sure, not because he didn't trust Eteled, but because he figured it could potentially remind the Mii of the past, so whenever he plays on it he just uses Eteled

(That's all I can really recall on the top of my head for now, whenever I remember more or add on things I'll probably make a new post about it)

#eteled #henry #corrupted mii #austin #sam #kyle #nathan #will #wdy #wii deleted you #au #still not sure what i want to do with the considered bully characters #if i decide to add them #or what i would do with the parental figures #still a lot to think about and work on but yeah #i dont mind ideas or possible suggestions for some characters #im just vibing with my au and having fun #*does a little dance*

[tobesobri]

When the Lights Go Out (Halloween fic; 8k)

𝖆/𝖓: first off, happy Halloween yall! This is my second favorite holiday and so I really wanted to get something up in celebration of it! I’ve talked a lot on here about having trouble with writing recently and so I do what I normally do with writer’s block and I just leave what I’m stuck on and go off to write something random, which is what this ended up being. So, my writing style is definitely different and maybe not great, but this is just for fun so I don’t care! I still hope you enjoy! There’s spookiness (not too much), enemies (frenemies) to lovers, pumpkin carving, smut, alcohol consumption, and giant skeletons 💀 (oh and Harry dressed as Tarzan 🥵)

my masterlist  🎃 my askbox

𝕸ost people’s Halloween traditions weren’t too complicated; usually involving cult-favorite scary movies—ranging from Halloweentown to Nightmare on Elm Street—handing out Snickers and Kit-Kats to tiny trick-or-treaters, or just getting wasted at a friend’s haunted house party down the street. Their friend group, on the other hand, opted for a pumpkin carving contest every year on Halloween at Jason Hallow’s house, and, yes, his favorite holiday is Halloween because of his last name. And so, a few years ago when they were all undergrads together, he began hosting the annual carving contest at his house, in which they all paired up and, at the end of the night, whichever pair’s pumpkin came out the best—as judged by Jason, the resident Jack O’ Lantern expert—won whatever candy was leftover. That and marathons of R-rated horror flicks as well as occasional breaks to go out in the neighborhood and scare some of the kids while dressed in terrifying monster masks and slightly drunk off their asses from too much Tennessee whiskey.

Jason’s house was, hands down, the place to be in their neighborhood. Everyone who came by always wanted to join in on their festivities, and one year, they’d been just drunk enough to let a few of-age neighbors join in. This year, though, it was different. The stakes were higher. They were competing not only for the candy, but also for the much envied twelve-foot tall skeleton Jason had found at Home Depot which currently sat in his front yard amongst his other outrageous decorations. The skeleton was definitely the most noteworthy and had been the center of plenty group photos from just about every one of his neighbors since he had brought it home and especially tonight. In fact, every time the doorbell rang and he greeted another group of kids in his gory doctor costume—because Jason was in med school after all—every one of them squealed about how much they liked his skeleton. And so it almost pained him to have to give it to one of his friends after tonight, but if he’s being honest, he has nowhere to store it—he’d purchased it completely on a whim—and next year they will compete for it all over again anyway.

Tonight is also different because Harry and Y/N are not getting along. They all knew this beforehand, but simply brushed it off until they realized it was much worse than anyone had imagined. They had a horrible friendship—if one could even call it that—ever since they’d met as freshmen pre-law students six years ago. Sometimes they got along, but mostly, they bickered non-stop at each other, which all their friends took as misguided flirting. They got along for about six months once, after a drunken hookup, until, of course, Y/N hooked up with someone else and set off the volcano that was their relationship all over again. It had been calm recently with both of them needing each other’s help through their vigorous law school studies. So, a truce had been made and they tolerated each other at best. Tonight, though, the monsters had truly been unleashed and neither one of them had stopped picking at each other since they’d arrived.

It began on the street, when Harry took the spot Y/N had wanted to park in. Then at the door, when he asked her how her midterms were going and she felt like stepping on his toes until she crushed them. Which was perfectly logical since his was barefoot and mostly naked in his stupid Tarzan costume he’d recycled about four times now since they’d all known each other. He only wore it when the weather was warm, as he claimed, but they all had a suspicion he wore it so that he could watch Y/N drooling over him all night.

She wasn’t innocent either, in his defense, at least not this year when she came dressed in a sexy Beetlejuice costume, something none of them ever thought was possible. But she made it happen. She wore a too-short black and white vertical striped t-shirt dress—which had rips in all the right places, particularly across her chest—and a pair of neon green boots that were Doc Marten knock-offs she had found online. Other than that, she had spray painted the front bits of her hair a grey-green color and did her makeup to match the theme, dark purple smokey eyes and a green color used as contour. It looked good, she looked good, not that Harry would ever say that out loud.

Jason’s entire living room and dining room floors were covered with plastic tarps. He’d set up the usual fold-away tables and chairs for everyone. It was an easy clean-up job that wouldn’t leave pumpkin guts smudged into his hardwood floors or, even worse, the beige carpet in his living room. And, as always, he had a line up of various pumpkins on his kitchen counter—and the necessary kit of carving tools—ready to go. They usually didn’t start until nine-thirty or ten, once everyone arrived and had a few drinks in them and they had all agreed on what movies to watch. This year was a marathon of The Conjuring franchise, because Jason had spent way too much money on a box set and he would not be wasting them. Nobody objected anyway because the movies held a sentimental value to all of them. Every year since the beginning when a new movie came out, they all managed to go see it together, and also cause a horrible ruckus in the theater. Although they’d almost been kicked out a couple times, it was still some of the best memories together they’d ever had.

There was also that one year, when Annabelle Creation came out and Y/N and Harry were getting along on account of the LSATs, that they’d secretly gone home together. And then, of course, pretended it never happened.

That had been the second time they slept together, the second time she’d woken in his bed, with Harry’s annoyingly toned arm wrapped all the way around her, and the last as well because Harry got into a serious relationship their first year of law school and that had been the end of things.

Well… not completely the end. At least not until tonight.

“Okay we’re getting started!” Jason announced over both the music and the television, which someone turned down before Jason continued. He stood, wobbling, on one of the foldable chairs, for no other reason than the bottle of vodka in his hand. He was teetering on the edge sobriety and really didn’t give a fuck if he fell off. “Y’all know the drill! Isa’s handing out the cards. No whining. No trading. Or you’ll be disqualified.”

The cards in question were riddles that they had to match up with the answer. Half of them got the riddle card, the other half an answer card and that would determine who their partner was.

Y/N both wanted Harry as her partner and detested the idea at the same time. She was all for it because, well, he was hot dressed in nothing but his small piece of brown loincloth fabric hanging loosely on his hips. But at the same time, she knew they wouldn’t win together and she really wanted that skeleton.

The riddles were all hand-made by Jason on his computer and then laminated in his girlfriend’s school’s teacher lounge however many years ago. They all knew every answer to every riddle by now, but it was still a much more fun way to pair up than picking names out of a hat.

Y/N read her riddle twice, having absolutely no recollection of the answer to it, however—which was probably due to the alcohol she’d consumed herself within the past hour. She wasn’t all to blame, though, Harry had a lot to do with it too. She was still mad at him, for what she wasn’t sure, but she also could not stop herself from stealing glances at him and the only way to stop feeling so many confusing things about Harry was to drown it all away.

She read her riddle one last time: The person who built it sold it. The person who bought it never used it. The person who used it never saw it. What is it?

Her brain felt like mush after the third read and she hoped someone would find her first and give her the answer. She peeked around at people’s cards as they all tried to find their pair, some of them meeting up immediately and getting the prime pick of the pumpkins. It had dwindled down to just a few of them and she finally waltzed herself up to Harry, grabbed his card from his hand without his permission and read it.

In bold, 16-point Helvetica font, it read: A coffin.

Of course.

She rolled her eyes, shoving his card against his stupid bare chest and groaning audibly. “Figures I’m stuck with you.”

When she finally looked up at him, though, she wasn’t all that upset about her odds as she pretended to be. Not with the way his face set into a devilish, wicked, up-to-no-good look that made her want to rip him from the room and rip his useless Tarzan costume off too while she was at it.

He had also been drinking, which was made even more clear when he opened his mouth. “You’ll always be stuck with me.” And then he leaned in a little bit, his smirk widening and his eyes darkening and the sweet smell of vodka on his tongue strengthening, “Forever.”

She hated the buzzing in her stomach he caused, and hated that she liked knowing they probably would, at the very least, know each other for the rest of their lives. It had already been six years since they met and she still hadn’t managed to shake him off. And now they were finishing up law school together and getting offers to work at the same firm together. There would be no escaping him, not that she really wanted to.

The only time she wanted absolutely nothing to do with him was when he had a girlfriend. She hated seeing him in her classes, in her study groups, her circles, at her internship. He was always there, though, rubbing it in her face as she had once done to him. Hers was just a dumb hookup, partially just to spite him, and his was… well he dated the girl for entire year before they broke up and he seemed genuinely heartbroken over it. It had been serious, and Y/N had been seriously miserable the entire time. Even more so when she found out they’d split up and she just about threw a party while Harry moped around campus. She couldn’t help it, though, she’d liked him ever since they met, but then they just sort of… didn’t get along all the time.

She knew he liked her too, at least a little bit, or he’d never have slept with her twice. How much he actually liked her though was still up for debate, and so she chose keeping their weird hate-love relationship over ruining all of it by admitting her feelings for him. Plus, she liked working with him and getting his help on exams and papers too much to ruin that as well.

Y/N grabbed the third to last pumpkin, an unopened carving kit, and led the way to two lonesome chairs. They sat closest to the door, and farthest from the dining room and Jason, in their own little corner where they had enough room to stretch out given that no else had laid any claim on the other side of their table yet.

“So,” Harry began once they were settled and Y/N began opening the kit of tools, “what are we making?”

Before giving him an answer, she laid out all the tools on the table in front of them, next to their poor misshapen pumpkin, and then reached down into the side of her boot and pulled out a black sharpie; she’d learned a couple years back to start brining one. It might have been cheating, sketching her design beforehand, but Jason never outlawed it.

“I’m making Jason’s favorite Tim Burton character and you’re in charge of the guts.” She dictated confidently, slapping the sawing tool and the large orange plastic spoon in front of him so he could get started right away.

He eyed the tools for a moment, then the pumpkin, and then finally her. “Absolutely not. I’m not doing all the shit work while you do the fun stuff.”

“Thought you’d be used to that.” She half-mumbled, but he still heard her over the rest of the noise in the house. And, frankly, she was right. When they had interned together last year, she always handed off the demeaning tasks to him, like getting the coffee or making copies, while she did the much more interesting parts of the job. What she didn’t know was that she didn’t make him do anything. He always did it so she didn’t have to.  

He sat back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest, arms that her eyes—which were completely out of her control at that point—glued to immediately. He’d been working out ever since the break up and finally filled out the Tarzan costume a lot better. He’d always had a nice body, she knew that, but now… now he made her dizzy.

“I’m not doing it. Least not all by myself.”

She gave up then, mostly because she lost her will to argue against the pout of his lips and the flexing of his biceps—which weren’t ridiculously big, but they were subtle and modest and very much bigger than they had been this time last year when he’d dressed up as a shirtless baseball player. Most all of Harry’s costumes involved some level of nakedness and not much sense, but she didn’t complain too loudly. And his arms were definitely bigger now than they had been the last time she was in his bed and he was over her.

“Fine.” She groaned, grabbing the mini saw tool and then standing to begin carving a hole at the top of their pumpkin, around the stem. She made it big enough for them to be able to stick their hands inside, and then once she was finished, pulled the stem piece off and set it aside for later, chopping off some loose bits of pumpkin shreds first.

Despite his earlier protests, he was the first to dig into the pumpkin, standing as well and going hands first into the thing where he pulled out fistfuls and dumped it into a pile on the table. They went back and forth digging out the insides of the pumpkin until finally, Harry grabbed the spoon and really went in. And she didn’t even bother offering to help, and instead stared, again, at his stupid biceps and especially at his hands, which were slick from the pumpkin juice. She shuddered remembering where his hands had once been, and then pulled herself together remembering how long ago it had been and how very little interest he’d shown in picking up where they’d left off pre-girlfriend.

Once the pumpkin was fully gutted, they both sat again, and cleaned their hands off on the paper towels Jason had set up on each table.

She was the first to begin the process, sketching out the design with her sharpie of Oogie Boogie from The Nightmare Before Christmas. She’d carved the character before, but still needed a reference picture on her phone to get all the details right. And Harry watched her the entire time, memorizing her face for the millionth time while she concentrated, and sometimes he stared at her hands, too, hands he also found himself reminiscing over, to the point of needing to cross his legs so it wasn’t made visibly clear what he was thinking about. He was starting to regret recycling the Tarzan costume.

While they all worked, Jason answered the door and handed out candy about once every five minutes. The best part of their tradition wasn’t the pumpkin carving itself, but rather, the atmosphere. They loved the feeling, the adrenaline rush of it all. How messy everything would eventually get, how loud they all were. The anguished shouting when someone messed something up. The sounds of Thriller playing in the background mixed with the loud jump scares from the horror movies played all night long. It was heaven to any lover of Halloween (and they all loved Halloween).

She’d let Harry start the carving of the design, informing him what parts were staying and what parts needed to be cut away, before she ventured into the kitchen to grab them both a drink. On her way back, she paused for a moment, just watching Harry work over in their corner. The sight of him almost made her want to finally admit how she felt. Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad if he rejected her, at least then she’d know.

But then Zoe plopped down into her empty chair next to Harry and crushed everything back down like an aluminum can being recycled. She tossed back about half of her Smirnoff after Zoe had scooted closer to Harry and grazed her fingertips across his arm—the one he wasn’t using the carve the pumpkin. And at first, he ignored it, but then he set down the tool, pushed his hair back with his clean wrist and offered Zoe one of his annoying little smirks that Y/N always thought he saved just for her. But now, seeing him use it to flirt with Zoe, she felt stupid and betrayed. And stupid again for feeling betrayed.

She had no claim to him. She just had her memories, as inconvenient as they were at times. But that was nothing and it’d been so long that he showed any interest in her, in anybody, that for her to be jealous now was just pure selfishness. As much as she hated Harry sometimes, she still wanted to see him happy again.

Y/N made her way back slowly, eying what others were doing, until finally joining Harry again just as Zoe went back to her own pumpkin.

She was quiet for a moment, sipping on her drink, watching him as he got back to carving, before cleaning her throat as she finally said something, “What did Zoe want?” And she tried not to sound anything other than curious, but the way Harry glanced at her, with a raised brow, she knew she needed to be so much more subtle.

He took the other cup from her that she hadn’t drunk from and replenished his blood alcohol level. “She just asked me what I was doing after this.”

Instead of opening her mouth and being obvious, she just set her drink down and grabbed both the carving tool and the pumpkin from Harry to take over. He’d already done way more work than she had, so it was about time they switched anyway.

He eyed her curiously still, even though he allowed her to continue where he left off as he leaned back in his chair and took a break, downing what was left in his cup as she worked.

“You’re not jealous are you?” He finally asked, after a few moments to let his brain marinate in the alcohol in order to brave that question in the first place.

“No.” It was sharp. A piercing rejection he felt dig its claws deep into his heart. He couldn’t tell if she was lying or not, but if not, it hurt. More than he was willing to admit, even to himself. He wanted her to be jealous. He always did. That was part of the reason he’d gotten a girlfriend. And of course she was also part of the reason they broke up, if not all of it.

He nodded, “So it wouldn’t bother you if I went home with Zoe?”

He noticed her brief hesitation, when her hand stopped moving and she took in a breath of air, but then she settled again. “Doesn’t bother me what you do, Harry.”

Again, he nodded, still watching her just to get a sense of her reactions. Of course he had no plans on going home with Zoe. He just wanted to know. Where they stood. How Y/N felt about him. Whether she thought about their nights together as often as he did. When they were studying together and she’d shift her hair behind her shoulder and he’d get a whiff of her shampoo and be taken right back to one of those nights, and the nights that came after that when he got lost in that scent on his pillows until it eventually dissipated and left him craving more.

He tried again. One last time. If he still didn’t get the response he was hoping for, then he’d give it up and leave her alone. So, he sat forward, crossing his arms on top of the table, close enough to her now that the buzzing in her stomach reappeared even though she never braved a single glance at him. He was close enough that the smell of his cologne overtook the odor from the pumpkin. Close enough that she felt his breath on the side of her face when he spoke.

“So, I’ve just been imagining the way you’ve been looking at me all night then?” His voice was just above a whisper, and soft, caressing her ears as the sound crept its way inside of her. As it seeped into all the places the alcohol had been, although Harry was always something way more potent than whiskey or tequila. He made her head spin, made her feel everything and nothing at the same time. Made her heart flutter so much at times it hurt.

His words sunk in and all her motions stopped as she froze in place. She stopped carving their pumpkin, stopped blinking, stopped breathing. Staring blankly at their half-finished design until he was wrung out from her system completely. That never really happened, though, because he was staring at her, watching her with those glinting, impatient eyes, waiting for an answer. There wasn’t even the familiar hint of a smirk or a bit of amusement on his face anymore, either, that might have calmed her nerves. Because at least if he seemed to just be messing with her, she could play that game with him, but this was different.

He leaned forward a bit, trying to get her to look at him, to say something, anything, really. He’d be satisfied enough with her lies at this point. But he also knew the absence of an answer alone was all he really needed. He didn’t feel like he was getting ahead of himself, seeing the way her body reacted to him, by assuming that she felt, at least somewhat, the same way he did about her. Because if she’d been the one to ask if she was imagining how he’d been staring at her all night, he wouldn’t deny it.

Just as she opened her mouth, just as she had gathered enough words to form a coherent sentence, the room went dark. Pitch black, actually. The lights all around them flickering off, the television going blank, the music cutting out. And once the startled gasps and dramatic, drunken yelling had subsided, they were left in a ringing silence, so completely opposite to what they had been moments ago that it was painful for their ears to adjust to.

“What the fuck?” They heard Jason’s voice in the darkness and then, finally, a bit of light as he turned his phone’s flashlight on.

“Did the power go out everywhere?” Someone else asked.

And while everyone panicked, all Harry cared and thought about was Y/N’s hand wrapped tightly around his own on his lap. He wasn’t exactly sure when she’d grabbed for him, but once he realized she was there, he didn’t really care too much about the lights anymore. What he did care about still, however, was whether she’d ever answer his question now. If he’d ever get to hear what she was about to say just before the darkness cut her off.

A few of them stumbled about, making plans to go outside and check on things while everyone else stayed inside and waited. The room went dark for a few more moments as Jason left, but then someone else turned their flashlight on, and shined them at the ceiling so that there was at least enough light so that they didn’t have to sit in complete darkness.

If it wasn’t Halloween, the power going out wouldn’t have bothered her so much. Outages happened happened all the time. But now, in the middle of the second Annabelle movie with all sorts of other spooky shit around them, she couldn’t help but be terrified and imagine the worst. Like… what if there was a killer on the loose who had cut their power. What if the killer was chopping up Jason and the others and then eventually heading inside to do the same to all of them?

“Hey,” Harry mumbled beside her, inching closer and rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand, realizing she’d grown tense when her grip on him had tightened. “You alright?”

Hearing his voice again, she let out a breath of air and tried to relax. She watched way too many scary movies and this was most definitely not one of them. Just a power outage, possibly due to everyone being home and using lots of extra electricity on their lights and decorations. She had no reason to panic. Although it could be blamed on Harry as well, if he hadn’t made her an astronomical amount of nervous just before.

She nodded until she realized Harry couldn’t even see her very well. “I’m fine.” She finally affirmed, and, to his dismay, took her hand away from his.

They sat in their own silence for a while, listening to the quiet conversations around them, particularly to Zoe and Julie who were trying to look up any information they could even though their phones were slow from the lack of Wi-Fi and service.

After a little while, she found his hand again in the dark, and this time, she wasn’t afraid from the power going out, but rather what she was about to say. Because if there was ever an opportunity to spill your guts to Harry Styles, it was in a dark room where his grassy green eyes weren’t all over you, sucking every ounce of courage from your bones.

Her voice was in a whisper, and she finally looked at him, or rather in his direction. To the outlines of his face, of his nose and his cheekbones. Even though she couldn’t find the green, she knew he was there, waiting, listening.

“You haven’t been imagining anything.”

She couldn’t quite see it, but his eyebrows had hit the ceiling and before he could question her further, she continued.

“I was miserable when you were seeing Liv and so fucking happy when you broke up.” Her voice shook, but she didn’t let that stop her, “And then miserable again because you didn’t want me. And maybe you still don’t, but it would really bother me if you went home with someone else.”

The quiet almost ate her alive for the next few seconds when he said nothing and she didn’t have his features to go off of. But then, she felt him getting closer until, finally, his lips were at her ear.

“I’ve always wanted you.”  

The buzzing was back but this time it was debilitating. Especially when he faced her and cupped his free hand along her jaw. And especially when he tilted her head back slightly to meet his lips, which had pretty good aim given their predicament. She missed the way he felt, she realized, once he was kissing her. Once he had scooted closer and released his hand from her grip on his lap. Once he grabbed up the other side of her face and pulled her closer. And then her hand was left to fend for itself on his thigh, and she, almost unconsciously, drifted her touch closer and closer and closer…

He moaned softly into her mouth when she toyed with the flimsy piece of fabric tied around his waist with her fingertips. And finally, she pulled apart from him, catching her breath before whispering, “Do you think they’d notice if we left?”

He shook his head, “Don’t think I care if they did.”

And so they were off. Trying not to draw too much attention to themselves even though she slightly tripped over the leg of the chair and he tried not to giggle too loudly while helping her. His hand fell into hers again as he led the way out of the living room, down the hall and into Jason’s guest room, closing them both off from any light source completely, not that they really cared too much about seeing each other; they just wanted to feel each other again.

And as soon as Harry had closed the door behind her, that’s exactly what they did. As she wrapped her arms around his neck; as he felt his way around her waist, he kissed her like he hadn’t kissed anyone in years. Like he was a dry, cracking desert and she was a vast river flowing through him.

He took brave steps towards the bed blindly, backing her up further into the dark room and managing to not trip over anything when he finally made it to the bed. They’d both, on separate occasions, spent the night in Jason’s guest room before, which helped when maneuvering around in the dark. For instance, Harry knew that Jason kept his secret stash of condoms in the bedside drawer. Harry had no idea why, but he was thankful for it right now, when, after laying her back on the bed, Y/N had already begun undoing his costume��with such quickness, he was sure she’d studied how the thing was connected to his body so that she knew exactly how to get if off if need be—and, within the next few seconds, tossed the flimsy Tarzan loincloth out of sight.

Which left him in just the black thong he wore underneath. If it were up to him, he wouldn’t have even bothered with it. But, when he had first gotten the costume and tried it on without anything, he imagined all the wardrobe slips and potential boners might not be in everyone’s best interests. So, he went out and bought the smallest pair of underwear he’d ever owned, tucked himself inside of them, and called it a day.

Those, too, were stripped from his body in a matter of seconds, or at least pushed down his thighs to where they no longer covered what they were intended to cover. But then she flipped them around, so that Harry was on his back this time, splayed across the bed and she was finally ridding him of the thong all together and not wasting any time getting her hands on him and he wondered, with how quick she was to get to this point, if she had been thinking about this all night. And if she had, then he would definitely have to whip out the Tarzan costume more often.

He seemed to sink into the mattress once he felt her mouth close on him, his eyes fluttering shut and his mouth hanging open involuntarily when he hit the back of her throat. He had no idea how he’d gone so long without her, or why either. Why had he been so stupid? Why did he let her think he didn’t want her? Why did he deprive the both of them of this? Of the way she felt circling her tongue around the tip of his cock, the way he knew she was looking at him even though he could physically not open his eyes or come down off his cloud long enough to tell her how good she felt. How much he missed it. How much he was probably in love with her, even if that might have been crossing some sort of line.

“Forgot how big you were,” she whispered, giggling almost shamefully after wiping her mouth on the back of her hand and giving him a break to actually breathe properly again.

“Think we both know that’s a lie.” He was out of breath already and he was right, although she wouldn’t feed his ego no matter what he said. Although she remembered his cock perfectly fine, she wasn’t exactly used to it. And maybe she had momentarily forgotten what he had hidden under his costume. It’d been two years since they slept together, and the first time it happened they’d been drunk.

She didn’t say anything else, just tried to hide the blush on her face—even though he couldn’t’ see it anyway—by taking a mouthful of him again. She didn’t let him come, though, of course, and he didn’t expect her to either. She never had before. She always led him get right to the edge, to where he was panting and writhing and digging his fingers into her hair, on the verge of screaming her name into the dark, and then she’d stop. Pull him from the back of her throat and leave him a sopping, moaning mess.

He’d somewhat recovered when she crawled on top of him and and sat on either side of his hips with her hands planted on his chest. And now that their eyes had adjusted to the darkness, she could see the curve of his lips as he smiled up at her and even the sinister little twist of his mouth just before he grabbed hold of the hem of her dress and ripped it off over her head, letting it fall onto the bed next to him. He wished they had just a little bit more light, but at the same time, it turned him on having to see with his hands instead. Having to reach up and cup her breasts in his palms and rely on his memories for a better visual than the one he currently had. And as she came down to kiss him again, there was one thing for sure he didn’t need any light or anything but his fingers to do.

He tossed her bra into the same vicinity as her dress and within seconds had his hands all over her again, and his tongue as well, wishing she was on her back so he could worship her in all the ways he desperately wanted to, but also aware that the power could flick on at any moment and he really didn’t have the time.

Not that she had asked, and maybe she just hadn’t thought of it yet, but he still, while continuing to make out with her, reached over, pulled the drawer open on the nightstand and reached inside to locate the box of condoms.

However, once he did, and he didn’t find what he was looking for, he sat up and pulled apart from her, twisting himself a bit in order to see inside the drawer. His other hand held onto her hips so she didn’t fall off of him as he searched the drawer. But, soon enough, he was laying back again, groaning as if he was in physical pain.

“There’s no condoms.” He muttered between his teeth and just that one little sentence ruined his entire night.

“It’s okay.” She assured, continuing to whisper just as he did so that no one would hear them through the thin walls. “I mean… we’re clean right? And I’m on birth control…”

He ran his fingers through his hair, looking up at her and trying to decide if it was a good idea or not. She was right, of course, but even so there was always a possibility. Even with condoms there was always that same possibility too. He knew one thing for certain. If he remembered correctly. There was absolutely no way in hell he’d be able to pull out, so that really wouldn’t even be an option either.

“If you don’t want to though, that’s fine.” She spoke again amongst his silence. It’s not like he would hate the potential consequences, and of course he would not hate feeling her without a stitch of anything in between them, he just needed to be reassured that’s what she wanted, truly.

“I do, just um… are you sure you’re okay with that?”

She nodded first and then, confidently, “Yes.” As she fell back into place over him, her lips came to his ear this time, “I want to feel you coming inside of me.”

His whole body shuddered, needing her more than he quite possibly ever had. And as she tucked her panties to the side and guided herself onto him, he would most definitely go outside and cut the lines himself if the power decided to come back on before they were finished.

“Forgot how wet you are…” He whispered, heart fluttering at the way she laughed while fucking him. He never forgot either, not quite. But feeling her again now, pooling around him, warm and snug, he again wondered why in the living hell he kept himself from her for so long. Sure, they didn’t like each other most of the time, but their first time together had been hot, drunk hate sex and ever since then he’d chased that feeling with other people, none of them ever quite adding up to her. He wondered if she thought the same. No one ever making her feel the way he did either. If, when she was with someone else, she thought of him instead.

He knew he wouldn’t last long the second she put her greedy hands on him, and so her being in control now was slightly dangerous. He wasn’t ready for it to be over, even if he was racing the clock, even if he could just take her home from here and do it all over again, properly. He didn’t want it to end as quickly as it started.

So, he flipped them back over, getting her on her back like he’d wanted to earlier. Slipping a pillow under her backside to get a better angle and letting her sink all the way through the mattress this time. He remained inside her the entire time, only making quick, shallow movements to avoid the sounds of their skin slapping against each other. But he gave up being careful about their noise level after she begged him to go faster, after he reached between them and rubbed his fingers over her clit to catch her up with him.

She tugged at his hair while he kissed her, breathlessly and without much of a second thought this time about how loud they were being. He assumed all their friends knew about them anyway, even if she chose to be ignorant to it. They all speculated about the secret hookups and the mindless flirting that was disguised as harmless bickering. So, he just stopped caring the closer and closer he got.

That was until he buried himself as far as he could inside of her, his hand wrapped around her throat the way he remembered her liking, and he felt the scream building beneath her skin, beneath his palm. Quickly, before her noises led to everyone barreling into the room to find out what was going on, he clasped his hand from her throat to her mouth instead. Holding tightly as she let it out, his eyes pouring into hers like a lake of shining emerald waters getting her to stay there in the room with him. So that she didn’t close her eyes and float away like he had before.

He titled her head to the side, kissed up her jaw to her ear. “Mm, I missed the way you sound.” He wanted to tell her how he thought about her pleads and her moans and her yells late at night when he was feeling particularly alone. When he wanted nothing but her, to either be inside of her, or to just have her there next to him. But all of that got caught in his throat, and instead, as he continued burying himself into her, he whispered like a growl in her ear, “Missed how well you take me.”

And although it made her moan, made her eyes cross and her fingernails scrape across his shoulder blades, he wanted to tell her that he missed how they fit together. How where he ended she began so seamlessly no one else could hardly compare. There had always been a seam with everyone else, with Liv, a visible divide between him and them, soldered together haphazardly. But with Y/N, it was smooth, flowing together as if they were the same person.

His hand slipped from her mouth as he began losing control, and soon she was the one having to cover the noises. Though, this time, she just simply pulled his lips to her own and felt all the vibrations escape from his throat against her skin, her teeth, her tongue. She breathed in nothing but the air from his lungs, and held onto his tightly as she began to unravel.

His moans quickened and quickened until she felt his release, warm and deep inside of her, just as her own gave way, until his body began to give out, until he was panting and no longer able to hold himself up over her. And so once they both descended from their cloud, once their wave had crashed onto the shore, he planted himself beside her, their chests in rhythm as they cough their breath.

And before either of them even managed to open their eyes or breathe steadily again, the surge of the power coming back on dimmed the haze. Their room was still dark, but light seeped under the door and the rest of their friends cheered from the other room as the music began again. And for a brief, stupid moment, Harry thought about fucking her again and letting her scream all she wanted, but that fantasy was cut short when he remembered their friends would soon realize they were missing.

“We should get back.” She mumbled. Although she made no sudden movements to get up. She even closed her eyes again, still off in another world.

And so Harry risked it, just for a few more moments, anyway, where he rolled closer to her and slid his hand up her jaw softly, pulling her attention toward him again as her eyes fluttered open, waiting.

“I was miserable when I was with Liv too. And we broke up because she knew I spent all my time thinking about someone else.” He swiped his thumb across her cheek, realizing for the first time that he’d probably royally fucked up all her makeup and then hoping she wouldn’t come to her senses and kill him for it.

“And who might that be?”

He smiled, sweetly this time unlike all his asshole smiles, and just as he glanced at her lips, ready to kiss her again, he was cut short.

“Yo, where are Harry and Y/N?” It was Jason, loud and clear and possibly headed their way to investigate his missing party guests who had snuck off together in the dark. Jason didn’t know that yet though, and as much as Harry would like none of their friends to find out, it wouldn’t exactly look great the two of them waltzing out of the guest room together. Harry’s curls in shambles, fresh scratches all across his back, and Y/N’s makeup smudged. There was simply no use in hiding what they’d been up to, it was written all over them.

Harry grabbed her clothes and handed them off while he went on a search for his own tiny pieces of costume. And just as they got decent again, there was a knock on the door.

“You guys in there? You better not be doing what I think you’re doing.” Jason warned and Harry and Y/n looked at each other for a moment before busting out laughing.

Harry got to the door first, throwing it open to a very surprised Jason, who then narrowed his eyes when he saw Y/N come up behind Harry.

“God, not in my guest room!” He whined as Harry pushed pass Jason, a looking Y/N following shortly behind, “Now I have to clean the sheets again! I just did them yesterday.”

“Sorry, mate!” Harry called over his shoulder, glancing down at Y/N quickly to give her one of his cocky little winks. And once they had reached the main room again, as he fell back into his chair, she realized just how many scratch marks she’d left on him, and wished he’d worn a costume with a shirt to cover it up.

She drowned out all the whistling and the comments about how everyone knew she and Harry were up to something, about the bets won and lost. All she heard was Harry’s voice in her ear, telling her how much he missed her and she wondered if it was real. If he really did miss her, or he just missed fucking her. If, when it was no longer October 31st, they’d just go back to normal. Like the horse-drawn carriage turning back into a lumpy, ugly pumpkin.

Harry noticed this, of course, because he’s a law student and notices everything, but just as he leaned in to ask if she was okay, she pulled away.

“I just, uh, need some air.” And then she was gone before he could do or say anything. She used through the front door, abandoning their poor pumpkin and headed toward her car. She’d left the keys and her purse inside, but it didn’t matter. She just leaned against the passenger door and gazed up at the stars, thankful for the clear night and warm weather.  

And, of course, he was beside her not too long afterwards. She’d heard his footsteps against the pavement, knew he’d probably follow her out anyway.

He cleared his throat, half watching the same stars she was and half glancing at her. “Did I do something?”

“No, it’s um…” she faltered, her eyes falling to her feet. “Think I just had too much to drink.”

“Oh… I’m sorry. I—” she cut him off before he got too far in the wrong direction.

“No, I mean…” she pushed off her car then and faced him, “Are we just going to go back to how we always are after tonight? Because I don’t know if I can do that. But I never know what you’re thinking, Harry. Do you even like me or do you just like sleeping with me sometimes and arguing with me all the rest of the time?”

He continued to watch her for a moment, almost waiting for her to tell him she was kidding. But when she just ran a nervous hand through her colored hair, he realized she wasn’t.

He waited for a group of kids all dressed in various Star Wars outfits to pass by them before he began. “I guess I thought I was clear, but obviously not enough… I don’t just want to sleep with you every couple of years and pretend we don’t like each other in between. I think we’ve already wasted enough time, don’t you?”

She nodded once his words sunk in.

“Can we go finish our pumpkin now? And win the stupid skeleton. So I can take both it and you home with me?”

Again, she nodded, but this time it was matched with a smile. “Who says I want to go home with you?”

He rolled his eyes and threw an arm around her shoulder, pulling her close enough to kiss the top of her head as he steered them back toward the front door. “Guess it’ll just be me and the skeleton then.”

They both glanced over at the giant thing stuck in the middle of Jason’s front yard, still attracting every young person like it was a princess at Disneyland, and then she looked up at him again. “On second thought, I might like to see that.”

He shook his head, opening the front door for them, “M’sure you would.”

#sorry if there are spelling or grammar errors #im just glad to have written something tbh #but yeah let me know what you think! and i hope you all have a great halloween and that you're staying safe! #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles writing

[elfwoodfae]

Writing’s On The Wall

Quantum Of Solace (Chapter-4)

Warnings: Masturbation.

Author’s note: I loved this chapter, I enjoyed writing it, let me know what you think. Also I made the moodboard from editing pics to putting it together, if you want to use it or share it just tag me!

Quantum Of Solace.

The light of the screen illuminates your face, the room around you is dark, cold, giving the feeling of being locked up in a nightmare. A single tear rolls down your face as Christina’s words echos through your mind, is as if he was a completely different man. Your fingers move to the rewind button once again, playing the scene once more; the screen shows Harrison, looking at the camera, sitting in his chair before he abruptly gets up, walking to a board, talking about how he managed to keep a diary, symbols you had never seen are written on the board, he seems euphoric, as if this breakthrough was his salvation.

Ripping the drive your had found a few minutes earlier off the computer, when you were rummaging through his things, you walk over to the kitchen, looking for the phone as thunder roars over the skylight, lighting illuminating the room. Your finger begging to dial, hands shaking and your breathing becomes erratic as panic settles on you. She had been right, something was definitely very wrong with this man, he was pretending to be paraplegic.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” His voice echos through the house, making you turn your head around, eyes going wide as you see him sitting in front of you, you hadn’t even heard him coming in.

“You are faking it!” Comes your accusation, your eyes are glossy and your hands shaky.

“I’m calling the police, you…” you point at him with your phone.

“You are not going to get away with this, you are lying to everyone, I knew there was something off with you.” You finish, finger about to dial when movement catches the corner of your eye.

Gripping the armrest of his chair he gets up, taking his glasses off and throwing them on the chair, the darkness around you both only briefly interrupted by lightning falling from the sky, illuminating his silhouette briefly.

“I was really hoping it wouldn’t come to this.” He half whispers tilting his head slightly to the side, looking almost pained to having to do whatever he will do next, before taking a step towards you, the realization of how tall he is hits you, leaving you breathless as you take a step back, your hand quickly opening a drawer and taking a knife in your hand, lifting it in his direction.

“Stay right there!” Your voice tries to sound confident, strong, but the shakiness and fear in it gives away how you really feel. He knows you are terrified, he knows he has the upper hand, he has you cornered at his mercy.

“How ironic, being threatened with a knife.” He smirks, moving closer in your direction, he can see the way your hand shakes, making the grip unsteady.

“Back off, I’m calling the police,” your finger is about to graze the dial button when a storm hits you, suddenly the phone is long gone and Harrison is behind you, his body pressed firmly to your back as he pushes you against the counter, his much bigger hand covering the hand holding the knife as he squeezes yours, erupting a scream off your lips at the pain he is inflicting trying to get you to drop the knife.

Throwing all the strength you have into your back you try to push him off of you, failing miserably, his body barely giving into your attempt, panic is settling fast over you, your mind racing for a way out and suddenly the only idea you can come up with is to try and somehow kick him in the balls. But the moment your feet start to move is as if he had seen it in slow motion, he managed to let go of your other hand before grabbing your feet, pulling you and throwing you off balance, turning you around, facing him as his hand grips your face.

“You were so close of making it out of here, but you had to go and meddle into things.” He half growls, a flicker of red illuminating his face briefly, his hand moves back, starting to vibrate in the hair as he purses his lips, his eyes turning a bright shade of red.

Realization dawns on you, he is one of them, one of those meta-humans going about, he is angry, you have angered him and now he most likely will kill you. Tears prickle your eyes and your mouth opens, but no sound comes out.

“Let me go!” You try, struggling with him, trying to break free but his hold on your face only tightens.

His hand slaps down on the counter behind you, rattling everything on it as a wiring noise fills your ears. His face moves closer to yours, the proximity of his body making you push yourself backwards into the kitchen island, making it dig painfully against your spine.

“Your chance to go is long gone,” he whispers.

“You are now stuck here, with me, and had you been more careful we could had both gone our ways and I would be free of your impertinence.” He angrily states, half whispering, half yelling on your face.

“Listen here, and listen carefully,” he squeezed your jaw harder, trying to make his point across.

“You will stay here until I have reached my goal, and you better behave because trust me,” he half chucked, watching the way your lips purse and your pulse quickens in fear.

“I can make you wish I had kill you, and don’t think for a moment I won’t know if you try anything. Don’t think you can outsmart me.” He says, before letting go of your face and moving out of your space, not before grabbing the phone out of your reach.

His eyes follow your form, seeing you run down the hall, tripping on your own feet as you try to go faster inside your room. Once he hears the door close, a sigh leaves his mouth, his hands running through his hair, frustration radiating off of him. This was a less than ideal situation, now he is stuck with you, stuck with your insufferable presence. The only gain he has on this is the ability to finally walk in his house, without having to hide, but the sole thought of having to share his space with you for longer than anticipated is enough to put him in a bad mood again.

The rest of the night Eobard threads through the house, his mind is in overdrive, thinking of any possible scenario, any possibilities where he would need to get rid of you. Your door remains locked through the night, and sometime after midnight he decides to retire to his own room, he needs to shower, to relax and take in as much calmness as he can given the circumstances. He sleeps on edge, constantly waking up, ready to speed if you as so much try anything, but you don’t, and he doesn’t see you leave your room when he leaves the next day. What he does see is you trying to leave, only to realize the door is locked, he sees you trying to connect with someone through the computer; he speeds to the house, catching you, scaring you as a red torment consumes you, he thanks Gideon for being able to see everything that goes on in the house through the cameras back at the lab, and he makes it clear he in not a patient man despite what it may look like on the outside, warning you for the last time.

The next couple of days pass by in haze, he sees you, wandering around the house once he is gone, you barely talk, barely eat, but he sees you looking into any possible way to leave. His pride hurts at the fact that he is aware he is not an insufferable man, he doesn’t want you with him, but he needs to ensure his plan. Perhaps a truce is in order but he won’t take the first step, too aware of how stubborn he can be. Thankfully back at the labs no one has brought you up anymore, everyone believing you are staying extra time for work, he doesn’t want to say you have left, he knows what the stakes are, keeping the lie simple is easier than over complicating it.

Walking through the door, late in the afternoon, he gets up from the chair, stretching his back, the front of his shirt riding up a little. He sets a pace, making his way to the kitchen only to stop mid way through. There on the middle of the room he notices you, looking at him, eyes cautious, a glass of wine in your hand. He raises his eyebrow as he looks at you and back at the glass.

“If you want to torture me here I may as well make the best of it.” You say, the glass almost overflowing, the comment making him snort.

“Trust me, keeping you here and torturing you are the last things on my mind.” He adds, continuing his stance to the decanter and grabbing a drink for himself.

“Then why won’t you let me go!” You insist, tire of trying to leave this place.

“Because I have worked too hard and too much for this, and you won’t ruin me, you won’t ruin it, have you not meddle into things you would be on your way by now.” He is getting mad, agitating himself.

Your lips purse as you whip around, successfully bumping your shoulder against his as you walk past him, putting extra effort into pushing him.

“Such a brat.” You hear him say, making you turn around and fist your hands at you side before huffing and stomping your feet in frustration.

“You are only adding to my point.” He teases you, pointing at you with his glass.

“Tess would be so disappointed in you!” You try to jab at his heart but his response only confuses you more.

“I wish I could say I care, but sadly I never knew her.” The sarcasm drips from his words, he notices how confusion takes over your features.

“My name is Eobard, Eobard Thawne. I’m not Harrison Wells, I’m not who you think I am.” He says, hand on his hips as he leans on the counter.

“What? How, how can you be someone you…” you trail off, your mind feels like a labyrinth of thoughts and questions.

“All you need to know is that I’m not Harrison Wells, but everyone needs to believe I am.” He says, pointing around you to an imaginary audience before taking the whole decanter and making his way to his own room.

The door shuts behind him, he releases a breath as he closes his eyes. This is becoming harder than he imagined, every interaction you share is fill with sarcasm or hate, he rejoices on teasing you, but he wishes he could simply void his mind of any thoughts regarding you. Sighting he makes his way to the bathroom, removing his jacket halfway through the room, followed by his long sleeve shirt as he passes in front of the floor length mirror, reflecting his body, his broad shoulders accompanied by ripped arms that seem to go on for miles; he stops, removing his pants, the curve of his ass is prominent and the muscles of his abdomen taunt, adorned by a trail of hair going all the way down his belly button, passing by the middle of a v line, reflecting a river one may desire to swim in.

Once in the bathroom he closes the door, scratching his neck, turning on the water on the all glass shower before going in. He removes the last piece of clothing before going under the stream of water. The hotness of it immediately reddens his skin, stealing a sight out of his mouth, the glass begins to fog around him and the memory of your body behind the glass door comes back to his mind. He wets his hair, hoping it will clear him of you but once his eyes close the only image behind them is the curve of your breast. The shape of your body, the color of your skin and that god forsaken hand running up your leg, running higher and higher and he feels his breath catching just imagining where it was heading to.

He feels uncomfortable, turning the water colder doesn’t seem to alleviate his problem and honestly he hates cold water. Regulating it once more he decides to approach this the only way he can, giving into a comfort he rarely indulges into. Taking a deep breath his hand moves to grasp himself, giving it a soft stroke, testing the waters before leaning his hand against the opposite wall for support. He moves his hand faster, the muscles on his abdomen contracting with every stroke of his hand, the veins on his neck beginning to show and his balls tightening, he feels his release close and he indulges in the memory of your perfume, what it would feel like to run his nose over the curve of your neck, down your shoulder, what it would feel like if it was his hand running against your leg, caressing your skin and moving higher to reach that place he so desperately feels the need to be in. With a sudden gasp his orgasm hits him, a grunt escaping him as his semen hits the floor, his hand still working to get him off completely. Once he is spent he can finally relax, letting out a breath as he throws his head back, allowing the water to run down his face and neck, washing away the anger he suddenly feels at not being able to control his own body, he hates you and he hates the reaction you bring out of him.

He looks at the clock, is sometime after 8:30 pm, his stomach rumbles and he considers if ordering Big Belly Burger is the best option. He runs the risk of someone seeing you but at the same time he hates the hassle it would create for him to go out on the wheelchair again to get the food himself. He decides on the later, grabbing the arm of the chair and speeding himself and the chair to get the food, only to be back in less than 10 minutes with bags in hand. He hates you but he can’t starve you, he is not that cruel. Walking to your room and knocking on the door, feeling himself growing annoyed when you take more than two seconds to open.

“What do you want?” Comes your response, the lack of manners you posses making a scowl appear on his face.

“You could be more grateful, I could let you starve you insufferable woman.” He says, annoyed already and regretting his decision of bringing you food.

“You are an insufferable man and I despise you, what kind of name is even Eobard, didn’t your parents love you?” That accusation jabs at his heart, opening a wound long forgotten and he hates how fucking spot on you have hit him.

Slamming the food down onto the floor with more force than necessary he speeds away, refusing to be there when you open the door, refusing to allow you to see how much it had affected him the pain the memory of his childhood brings him. Damn you and damn his kindness, you don’t deserve any of it.

You hear the bag slamming down, the quiet noise the air makes around you, he is gone, suddenly your words come back to you, he didn’t give you any sarcastic response, he didn’t even try to, maybe his childhood was a touchy subject you had inadvertently touched. Swinging your legs off the bed you run to the door, opening it faster than you intended to, only to find the bag of food in your step.

“Harrison” you call out before remembering that that’s not his name. Cursing lowly when silence greets you, guilt filling you as you realize that he was trying to be kind and you threw his efforts at his face.

“Hey come on, I didn’t mean it like that.” You try again, but there’s no response, he is gone.

Closing the door back you move to the bed, sitting down and opening the bag, he even added fries for you, and the gesture softens you a little and only adds to the guilt. He didn’t ask for you to be here the same way you didn’t ask to be here. He is having to put up with someone coming and slamming everything around for him. Even after all the unanswered questions you have it still comes as a shock that you don’t really know this man, he is a complete stranger who you are sure hates this more than you. Oblivious to you, in the other end of his house, his food lays untouched, his hands tangled in his hair. He has lost his appetite and the need to create chaos fills him, the only way he knows how to cope, how to adapt. Adjusting the ring on his finger he moves away from the bed, pulling his suit with a flick of his hand before phasing through it. A nightmare in yellow speeding out of the house, ready to destroy, ready to hurt the same way he has been hurt over and over again. He wants to destroy, he wants to hurt and he hates that the only thing it took for a storm to unleash was you.

@steamjunk90

@tacowells101

@wellsaddict

@twilightlover2007

@austarus

@harrisonwellsisdaddy

@wintersire

@reallystressedhoneybee

@fanfiction-and-fantasies

@saltykidcreation

@dumpeetintofyre

@yetanotherwells

@mintchipcupcake

#the flash imagines #eobard thawne fanfic #eowells fanfic #eowells x reader #harrison wells x y/n #eobard thawne x reader #harrison wells fanfic #harrison wells fanfiction #the flash fanfiction #harrison wells imagine #harrison eo wells x reader #harrison eo wells imagine #harrison eo wells fanfic #harribard imagine #eowells imagine #enemy to lovers #harrison eo wells x reader fanfic

[xo-cuteplosion-xo]

Hi! This is my first time requesting lol. So this is for the event.

I wanted to request a scenario, with line 2, and akutagawa x reader. And I wanted it to be angst to fluff.

I don’t really care about details so you have free will with this.

Akutagawa x Reader 

2- “I hate it! I hate that I love you!”

I went with a mission scenario. Hope you enjoy!

Words- 1,155

~

Underneath the moon that laid full among the clouds, the night was rather silent. There was no wind to rustle the trees, even the crickets had stopped their chirping. The world was silent in his presence; The black-fanged hellhound, the name given to him. It was always so silent when he took steps outside. Enemies were so easily crushed by his hand. He did it all to be noticed by somebody; A male who had long left the mafia to be a detective.

You had no idea when it had happened, nor how for the matter; but it did. Your heart raced whenever he got close. Maybe it was the way he held himself with confidence, his will to keep getting stronger. Maybe his looks had been the factor to draw you in. Despite being pale and rather sickly in his appearance, there was an odd handsomeness to that look. Perhaps it was how he dressed that made him look so fascinatingly handsome? Whatever it was… you hated it. Hated that you were pulled to a serial murderer. Somebody with such a cold heart, not even fire, could melt the cage of ice around it. He was somebody who cared for nothing but his own strength. 

Yet why did he seem so upset now, staring at you with a cold, heartless rage? His almost non-existent brows furrowed as he glared at your retreating form. His lips threatened to move but the silence hadn’t cracked. Only moments ago he’d almost been taken by surprise. Had you not stepped in and knocked the sniper cold, he would have been shot. Was he thinking you found him weak? Maybe, he thought, at that moment, you were looking down at him. As much as you hated this man for what he did, you would never be able to help the guilt that would rise if you had a chance to help him, but chose not to. If he got hurt and you could have prevented it, that would be a living nightmare of guilt.

The silence of the night faded with his voice. Ending the silence with anger, his ability; Rashomon, activated surrounding him as he growled. “Why did you do that? Do you have a death wish?” taken aback by his aggressiveness you shook your head.

Opening your mouth to respond, you chose your words carefully. “You didn’t notice, so I just… stepped in.” he seemed displeased by the answer.

“I could have handled that! I told you to stay back!” You hated him at times like this. The pounding of your heart grew as he raised his voice.

“I didn’t want you to get hurt.” your voice was meek as you prepared your barrier ability to protect yourself from Rashomon; if Akutagawa chose to attack you.

“I’m not weak! If something like that caught me off guard then, I’d be a fool! Why do you care? I didn’t need you here, I didn't need you anywhere near me! You're just… baggage! I’m perfectly fine on my own!” the words fell from his lips, but there was another emotion behind his words. Though the anger powered over them, you knew there was another reason he was lashing out with words, rather than his ability.

His words cut like knives, each syllable a new cut. “I don’t think you’re weak Akutagawa! I just… I didn't want to see you hurt! I know it’s stupid but… I’m supposed to be your partner!” just until this truce ended you thought. Just until this little truce was over, then you would be left to the dust. He’d leave you. Those tears from his words were beginning to feel like a tidal wave pushing against a dam. Becoming harder to hold back you dropped your head to look towards the floor.

“You act as if you care. If you do, you shouldn’t, I don't have time for such things. I have to get stronger.” he went to turn around but paused, looking at how that simple sentence broke the dam. It was not supposed to happen in front of him, but salty water started falling in drips before your own anger bubbled up, drops turning into rivers.

“I hate it! I hate that I love you!”  you hissed the words through your teeth. Holding your hands in fists, you let out a shaky breath, staring at the tear stains that landed on the pavement. “I hate that I care! I do, but it’s not something I can make go away! Can you at least act like you're not some heartless monster! I know you're not, I have seen times when you show consideration! You’re not a monster, you're not weak or worthless either! You’re human, why can’t you see there are people around you that care!” 

This was what he’d been avoiding; A confession. Somehow you had snuck around the ice and wrapped warmth around the cold. The words you spoke were like arrows. They woke him up, the things he’d been denying suddenly so clear. He was not one for affection or anything like it, but he’d screwed up. Swearing under his breath he grabbed you and pulled you close. “A word to anybody and I’ll tear your tongue out.” he hissed. Carefully he slid one arm from Rashomon and let it lay over the both of you. “I hate it too... This stupid feeling is a weakness.”

Shock radiated through you, but it prevented you from pulling away. You reached for his hair, running a tender hand through it. Your head leaned against his chest sniffing as he clicked his tongue. Turning away to hold the pink of his cheeks. “Idiot,” you grumbled but tossed your own arms around him.

It was a contact he found he enjoyed. This thing called affection wasn’t that bad. He’d never truly been shown any before this moment. One could say he’d been afraid of affection before this. “While a weakness, it also acts as a strength. A reason to keep fighting.” your voice was hoarse from the shouting and the tears, but it was still sweet. 

Maybe you were right, but the fear would always be there. If his enemy found out you’d be targeted. Though you could handle yourself, he would still worry. He hated it, the feelings that accompanied this feeling. “Maybe…” he grumbled the word as you wiggle free. Setting the half of his coat back on his shoulder.

You leaned in with a boldness he’d never seen cross you before. A soft peck on his cheek before turning around completely red. He too went completely red, looking to the side. He was honestly adorable, but you were too flustered to make much notice. “S-see you later?” you mumbled looking back to notice him nod slightly.

“Mhm…” did you... break him? He seemed to not be responding properly. Whatever it was, the feeling inside both your chest was comforting.

#bsd #akutagawa x reader #akutagawa angst to fluff #akutagawa fluff #akutagawa angst #akutagawa #bungo stray dogs #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #100 follower event

[katsuflossy]

I don’t rlly remember lmao, but I think it was something about Bakugou with a black reader who was just as aggressive as him? Like we don’t condone bullying and all that but she’s mean as hell (and yeah lowkey a bully😔) Idk I was hating on Ochako for letting Froppy fall (I love her tho I swear💞) and I was like ok what if she had a childhood bully or smth thag got with Bakugou💀 She and Deku boutta be siiick

Two Peas in A Pod

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugo x black fem!reader

TW: Obscenities, mentions for microaggressions, mentions of bullying, mentions of racism

A/n: Rip to raddaraddanigga 😭 i love the new name tho. Anyways i hope i got your vision and executed it to your liking 🥺💖

Taglist: @sunshineszn @lilsparkyswife @myhoodacademia @mypimpademia @melanimed @sheepydumpling @xx-opaqued-xx want to be apart of my taglist?

💥 How you and Bakugo tolerate each other the world may never know.

💥 For once, somebody other than his mother match his level of anger and impulsiveness. Butting heads is a regular Monday and Throwing hands is a regular Thursday.

💥 You both made an actual truce after your second year. Copies of the contact, slightly crisped due to someone’s short temper, were secured in your rooms. There are still fights on a daily basis, but they’re not as intense as they were before.

💥 Worst part you seem totally unphased after every conflict you and Bakugou have. Tsuyu was the only one who was brave enough to ask how do you manage with him. Meanwhile, you’re just there, sipping on boba Bakugou got for you, calm as a still ocean.

💥 “Him? He built like any other bitch in here. The only thing he gotta do is shut his ass up.”

💥 ding ding 🔔 Bakugo’s coming back for round two.

💥 However, if the hothead is the religious, he believed you‘re a fire goddess reincarnated. He doesn’t take his eyes off of you in a room because your aura is so enigmatic. A hard hearted deity that has been forgotten.

💥 So the frequent fights don’t go too hard or else you’ll both be hypocritical. Your hotheaded personalities stemming from two sides of the same coin. Yours rooted in the world being against the color of your skin from a young age meanwhile his being from the constant reinforcement in his quirk.

💥 Both of your insecurities hidden under a mean rep, especially from your bullying days. You and Ochaco’s relationship still strained from your middle school days, poking at her soft, sweet personality. All thanks to people comparing her femininity to your lack thereof (there is not set idea of femininity. Embrace that part however you feel to).

💥 Still, being able to go toe to toe with Katsuki one minute then absolutely in love in the other are the best moments in the world, especially when you could see his eyes visibly softened before reaching to the back of your neck, drawing you in for a kiss on your forehead.

💥 But lord help anybody else who try it with Bakugo. He can hold his own but you’re ten toes down for this blonde bomb.

💥 Deku broke character one day and put one little finger on Bakugo’s chest.

💥 Your boyfriend didn’t have to react before you got all up in Deku face, finger joints cracking as you furled and unfurl your fists.

💥 “...I know you not over here threatening my baby...and jutting your finger on his chest,” You could feel Bakugo’s smirk behind your back.

💥 “Just know you try that again, it won’t be your quirk that’ll shatter your index for the 100th time.” You moved his own finger to your chest.

💥 “It’ll be this motherfucker right here.”

💥 And your eyes told him what you said wasn’t a threat; it was a promise.

💥 Yes...you are what Deku’s nightmares are about.

#bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki x black reader #bakugou katsuki x black reader #bnha x poc!reader #bnha x black reader #bnha x poc reader #bakugou katsuki headcanons #bnha bakugou x reader #bnha bakugou katsuki #bnha x black!reader

[flowerflamestars]

okay i’m still obsessed with your idea of nesta and tarquin together!! would you mind giving us a little more on that, like how would they first interact, what would nesta think of him, all of that? thank you so much!!!! 💚💚

I would love to!!!

The important thing to remember about the Tarquin Draft is that is has the same main story as Daylight: Nesta in Day, Nesta the Library, Helion’s grumpy best, best truest friend ride or die companion.

So Nesta doesn’t actually meet Tarquin again until she’s halfway to okay. It’s plotwise timeline closest to where she is in the most recent chapter- feeling at home in her body, really hitting her stride as Librarian, gaining a reputation as just an absolutely formidable force who helps anyone who asks.

There’s been correspondence between the Library and Summer- Nesta, acting as a go-between for Kallias- but remember, no one uses her name. 

So it’s a big surprise when the Librarian arrives in Summer, pulls down her black and gold hood and...there is Feyre Archeron’s face, like a nightmare. Except not- wearier, sharper, older, devastation and salvation like the sunrise after a storm at sea- Nesta, who laughs in Cresseida’s face when the Princess of Adriata calls her a Night Court spy.

Nesta: wouldn’t that require belonging to the Night Court? Try my baby sister, if you’d like to yell about idiotic plans. Where are the books that keep eating people?

Cresseida is so wary, but Nesta, of course, isn’t actually going to leave before handling the cursed trove some Summer sailors pulled from the sea. She’s the Librarian.

Tarquin just...doesn’t want this. Doesn’t want to be proved inexperienced, that he can’t act for his people’s good by a beautiful woman again. But Nesta aggressively wants to help, and ultimately, he lets her.

And Nesta acts nothing like Feyre.

She takes off that cloak of office (listen, I’m picturing like, the coolest wide-legged, sleeveless white linen jumpsuit that has EVER existed, chic but functional), puts on a sunhat that she...magicked into her hand? and stomps into the shallows. Starts pulling sailors souls out of the treasure and hauling them to shore.

It’s terrifyingly efficient. And listen, Tarquin doesn’t give a shit about rank, so he, after some very blushy surprise because no, he did not know he had a competency kink and Nesta Archeron has tiny adorable little freckles on her shoulders- gets in the waves to help.

Nesta doesn’t even look at him.

What she does is save the lives of twelve of his men, pick up the faintly hissing, utterly cursed chest of books that started all this, and ask Cresseida is there’s a room where she can work. 

So they take her to the palace. 

The beautiful ambassadors rooms, windows and silk and the sound of water. 

It becomes clear that the curse is in fact, just a curse, but one that can only be broken under the full moon, which is two weeks away. So Nesta stays, being the only person who can keep that magic from spreading. The only payment she wants is to take the books back when she goes which leaves Tarquin, arms full of the traditional gift of pearls, VERY embarrassed.

But he gets over it. Tarquin is genuinely chill- he has baggage from the weight of his responsibility, of being fooled by the Night Court- but he’s also so, so young. Kind. Curious. He doesn’t want to judge Nesta on the actions of people related to her, and once she proves herself, he doesn’t.

And meanwhile Nesta is like, cool. Cool, cool, cool- I can’t sleep while I’m here, I can’t winnow home and sleep because the Library can’t suppress a curse from hundreds of miles away, I’m not going to steal the books like a fucking thief in the night like Feyre-

So Nesta does a lot of exploring. 

Tarquin comes into the harbor one morning, pink still streaking the sky. He’d been up in predawn doing Manly Boating Things with his navy- he walks through the harbor, lets the sounds his happy people sooth the rush of magic that still surprises him- to shape the sea, to cease the waves, to bend the world, to call the tide- and goes looking for breakfast.

Instead, he finds Nesta.

In line a line waiting for fresh bread and pastries, in another insanely attractive white outfit, looking at the sky. She’s alone- he’d given her guards, servants, knew damn well Cresseida was watching her- holding a basket, drinking coffee with her free hand.

So Tarquin joins her.

It cannot be overstated how genuinely charmed they both are with how normal it is. No death and war between them. No magic drawing them together. No real history- Nesta isn’t Feyre in the slightest- just a man with salt drying in his hair and a beautiful grin, asking if he can buy Nesta breakfast. 

Just Nesta, and the only High Lord she’s ever met besides Helion who isn’t aggressive. As she says, Nesta has as many problems with High Fae men as they tend to her- the siren song of power, challenge called to challenge by her very primordial being.

And listen, Tarquin is a huge, very physical dude. Summer faeries are touchy, in a friendly way. But he also, like Helion, is smart enough to pick up on how screamingly uncomfortable men make Nesta. He doesn’t know why, and noticing it made him feel a little sick- but he’s careful. Kind, funny Tarquin, whose managed in knowing her just a few days to figure out how to approach her without triggering her.

So Nesta says yes. Nesta probably says something snarky as hell about his High Lordly hospitality.

And Tarquin laughs- genuinely, beautiful.

He’s still laughing when they get to humble little window, and Nesta goes still. 

Tarquin clocks it- handles what they’re doing, gets Nesta out of the line of people without unnecessarily touching her. He sort of thinks she’s having a panic attack?- finds a nice quiet bench under a tree. He’s also pretty sure he’s making it worse just by being present, but he’s not going to leave her alone like this- so Tarquin just like, sits on the ground.

Which startles Nesta. She looks up- he doesn’t know her well enough to know what’s going on, so he’s extremely confused when Nesta goes: why is she here?

Tarquin: ???

Nesta: the HUMAN

There’s part of Nesta thinking the worst possible scenarios- what her past and the Night court taught her. 

But Tarquin just like, blinks? Sets down the pastry bag on the bench for Nesta and is says well, she was shipwrecked. A whole passenger ship from the continent last summer- she was going to the North, to start a new business. But she liked it here, and decided to stay. 

Nesta: that human woman, owns a business? Here. 

Tarquin, who’s starting to get what is happening here: Yes. She’s a Summer Court citizen.

Nesta eats a pastry. Nesta, face wry, eventually hands a pastry to Tarquin, who’d seemingly decided she needed them more than he did. Tarquin wolfs it down in three bites, just enough time for Nesta to grumpily confess: I’ve never seen a free human, above the Wall.

Tarquin, haltingly, shyly is like: well, I want it to be different. We all share the same world. Acting like we’re not all the same is how Hybern almost took over- 

By the end of the sentence he’d managed to look up. That was the voice a High Lord, a man who had power and would use it.

So they have this truce, a spark of very real, pretty damned charmed interest. They walk back to the Palace across the whole city, talking.

The next day Nesta is deep in working Librarianing while she’s there- and Tarquin just pops up. Draws as little attention to himself as possible to be like, here. I noticed your hat blew away yesterday? So I brought you a new one. And some coffee. Do you like it cold? Don’t let me get in the way, what you’re doing is important.

What he means by important: incredible. 

It had taken him ages to find her, because Nesta is apparently spending her spare time- does she sleep??- winnowing all over his territory, solving any problems anyone asks of her, bringing books to schools. Talking to regional leaders about what their educational needs are. Chatting with sea monsters so the fishermen understand they’ll be totally safe, so long as they always throw back in that one kind of crab that the baby krackens exclusively eat.

And look, it is a coping strategy. Nesta CANNOT rest by the sound of the sea- but she’d also realized this kingdom her sister had fucked with had been hit so, so hard by Amarantha, and then the war. That she can help, so she will.

But she just kind of stops. Tarquin left as quickly as he came she’s just there like- coffee. hat. BEAUTIFUL RESPECTFUL MAN. It’s not the vibe of her and Helion. It’s flirty but not...pressing? It’s nothing like how any faerie man (see: Cassian) who wanted her has ever, ever treated her and it’s just...so, nice.

He’s nice. Gorgeous. Easy to be around, which Does Not Happen to Nesta ever.

Nesta breaks the curse and leaves. 

Keeps her promise to the schools, visits to sit on the shore and talk to sea monster babies, so much more prodigious now that they have enough food.

Tarquin thinks she’s amazing, and he starts writing to her. For real Lordship reasons, but also just to see what she’ll say- he wants to know how humans live. How his cities could integrate them. Can they use magic? Will they, if it’s available to them?  

Tarquin finds someone- witty, beautiful, so intriguing- who believes in the value of his most difficult dreams. Nesta finds someone who looks at the most fraught, hurt parts of her- humanity lost, a terrible human life, that she still, even now, asks herself sometimes if she can belong, and treats those things as important and integral.

And they fall in love.

It’s a story about a lot of things- Nesta, who drowned to become, learning the whole seas of world will still for her, protect her. Tarquin who does revolutionize his kingdom, and spend centuries counting Nesta’s freckles as they peel and disappear. 

Love of choice. Nesta, in the sun, being adored. Tarquin, who so many people think is foolish, a reckless dreamer, defended by the most loyal person on earth. 

There’s small details i love so much it makes me want to go to the extremely troublesome work of writing them their own story- Nesta inviting the mermaids from the Night Court waters to live in a place no on is afraid of them. Tarquin who is both sort of a golden retriever but ALSO a proud, petty bitch when tried, draping Nesta head to toe in rubies for inter-court events. 

With Tarquin the story really embraces the idea of eternity- of possibility. They’re young, they’re equals in this eternal life. There’s so many years ahead of them, so many things they can do: they have time to go slow, to make changes, to learn each other inside and out as they become the people they want to be.

[upcloseandchaotic]

Girls’ Night

This idea has been bouncing in my head for a while mostly as a distraction from doing my other WIPs. It was also originally supposed to be short.... I don’t know what happened 🤷🏼‍♀️

Summary: After helping Bucky with a rough round of nightmares, you decide that you need to have a Girls’ Night with your friends.

One Shot; 2,478 words 

Disclaimer: Bucky, Natasha, and Wanda are not my characters.

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Natasha Romanova, Wanda Maximoff, Female!Reader

Relationships: Bucky x Female!Reader

In the sunlight his hair was a soft chestnut color, but now as you ran your hand through it and wrapped the silky locks between your fingers, the night seemed to darkened it to where someone could mistake it for black, almost as dark as the night sky. You hummed to yourself, imagining what his hair would look like filled with falling stars and circling planets, but then quietened down as you heard his voice start rumbling in his chest, a pained groan building in his throat.

Soon Russian words started falling sharply from his lips. His arms and legs started twitching, his brow furrowing. You quickly grabbed your phone from the side table, pressing the button to open your notes app and started writing down everything that seemed important, like names or locations. It looked as if his nightmare from a couple of hours before was coming back, but this time his dream went more in depth. You were able to pull some ideas of where this “vault” was located, names of people, random words that you think were once used to help program him. It hurt for you to watch him twisting and turning, crying out in pain, it left you feeling helpless even though you knew from experience that waking him up would just make it worse.

The longer it continued you felt a rage start simmering down in the pit of your stomach. It burned as if a coal had finally caught a flicker of a flame and grew until your hands were shaking and you were silently fighting with yourself to stay there with him and not go find the people responsible for his pain. 

Once his murmurs turned into more like whimpers and his twitching started to slow, you started whispering sweet nothings into his ear and gently combing his hair back from his sweating face. Slowly, without waking up from his dream, he started to relax back into the bed and eventually you can hear light snores signalling that he has fallen back into a dreamless sleep. Before you slide back into your spot beside him you grab your phone and send a message to Wanda and Natasha. Girls’ Night soon?

Wanda was probably still asleep, seeing as it was around five in the morning, but you weren’t surprised to see three dots flashing. Natasha seemed to have an uncanny sense of when Bucky was having nightmares and always seemed to be awake.

Yes! I’ll bring the nail polish! 💅

You smiled and sent back a gif before turning your phone off and threw it back onto the nightstand. Reaching out to Bucky, you smiled as he unconsciously moved to accommodate you; his arm wrapped around your shoulders and when you tucked yourself into his right shoulder he turned, curling up around you and throwing his metal arm around your waist. You could feel the warm huffs against the top of your head and his usual scent of spice, leather and gunmetal surrounded you. With the sound of his heartbeat in your ear and the warmth of his body seeping into you you close your eyes and drift off into a deep, dreamless sleep.

You were standing in the kitchen putting together a cheese and cracker plate when you felt two hands circling around from behind you, one warm and soft and the other cool and hard. They wandered under his shirt you were wearing and started creeping upwards slowly with gentle caresses.

Smiling softly, you put the crackers and cheese down to place your hands over his, halting his movement and . “What are you doing, Buck?”

Bucky’s chin dropped onto your shoulder and he whispered into your ear. “Do I really have to go, doll? You know I don’t care about what you all talk about. I’ll even let you and the girls paint my nails.”

You sighed and twisted around so you could stare into his aquamarine-colored eyes, which were trying to pretend to be charming but actually belied his nerves. He always required some more physical reassurance after having a bad bout of nightmares, and as much as you wanted to allow him to stay so you could comfort him you knew that this Girls’ Night was necessary and that he couldn’t be here. To ease some of his discomfort, though, you pulled him towards you and reached up to cup one cheek. He sighed and leaned into it and you watched as some of the tension in his jaw relaxed.

“Baby, I wish you could. If it was any other night it would be fine, but tonight it really has to be just us girls.” Bucky gave a dejected huff and closed his eyes, leaning a little bit more into your hand, “But I will take up your offer to paint your nails. I have a really pretty blue color that would match your eyes.”

When he opened his eyes again you could see a glint of mischievousness flash briefly and before you could blink he had a grip on your thighs and had you up in the air. You squeaked and quickly wrapped your legs around his waist. He laughed and sat you on the counter next to your half-done cheese and cracker plate. You gave him a mock glare and lightly smacked his chest.

“Don’t be like that, Doll,” Bucky crooned. He stepped forwards so that he was standing between your legs, pressed up against you. Leaning forwards, he hovered his lips so that they were a hairsbreadth apart from yours. You got a clear whiff of his favorite cologne and the mint toothpaste he used. “I was just havin’ a bit of fun. We both know how much you like it when I pick you up like the babydoll you are.”

“That’s true, but the girls are going to be here any moment and I still have a lot of stuff to finish getting ready. Also don’t you have to meet Steve and Sam in about 20 minutes anyways? You still have a 15 minute drive, Buck.”

He hummed, pulling your wrist off of his face to read the time on your watch. When he saw that he was going to run late he grumbled but backed off, allowing you to hop down from the counter but close enough that he could keep his hands on your arms in case you lost your balance.

You hurriedly finished up making the plate of appetizers while Bucky begrudgingly went and collected his wallet and keys and then you both met up at the doorway.

“Have fun with Steve and Sam, baby. Call me if you need me,” You say, leaning up to give him a chaste kiss. Before you could step back, though, he snuck a hand into your hair, keeping you close as he proceeded to deepen the kiss. After a few minutes though someone knocked loudly on the door, startling both of you into separating. When you and Bucky gathered enough braincells to answer the door, Natasha and Wanda were standing there, smirking and giggling at the dazed look on both of your faces.

“Come on, Barnes, it’s our turn with Y/N. You can have her later tonight,” Natasha joked, pushing past you and Bucky to place the wine bottles she brought with her on the living room table. Wanda snuck past too, dropping her bag onto the couch before starting to search for wine glasses in the kitchen.

Bucky chuckled, ignoring the two girls as he dropped another kiss onto your lips. “Yeah, yeah, I hear ya. Bye, babydoll, I’m countin’ down the seconds until I come back to you.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled as you heard a mixed chorus of fake gagging and awe-ing behind you. “Go on, Buck, I’ll see you later.”

“Don’t use all of the nail polish, ladies! I look forward to my manicure when I get home!” he shouted as he walked away, smiling brightly as you laughed. You stayed there, leaning against the doorway to watch him until he disappeared on the stairs.

“Hate to see him leave?” Wanda asked as you closed the door and stepped back into the apartment.

“But love to watch him go,” You sighed dreamily. Natasha groaned and threw a pillow at you, causing you and Wanda to break out into laughter.

“Okay, okay! Truce!” You cried, throwing your hands up.

“Fine,” Natasha conceded, “You live to see another day, Y/N… Now, what information did you find the other night?”

As Wanda opened the bottle of wine and set it to the side to let it breathe, you pulled up your notes and explained what Bucky had said during his latest nightmare as well as what you had been able to find from an initial search. Natasha stayed quiet during your explanation, responding with nothing but the occasional nod, and Wanda pulled her laptop out of her bag, starting it up and opening the files you all had compiled and sent them.

At the end of your report Natasha poured the wine into the glasses and took a quick sip. “This place sounds familiar to me, but I’m not 100% sure I have been there. I think maybe they used it as a threat in the Red Room? What were the names he mentioned again?”

When you repeated them, Wanda chimed in with “I think I’ve heard about that place, it’s in Siberia. Pietro and I were almost sent there a couple of times, they told us it was their top training facility.”

“Could you point it out on a map, Wanda?” You asked, quickly pulling up a map of Serbia on your phone.

“I think I could…here let me see.”

Wanda looked over the map and you bit your lip, twisting the wine glass between your fingers, anxious to see if you guys would have a break through.

“Here,” she said, pointing at a spot in the Balkan Mountains, “It’s closer to Serbia and it’s hidden deep inside one of the mountains.”

“I’ll try and see if I can pull some layout plans from the upload you did, Nat,” You said, reaching for Wanda’s laptop. As you did your deep diving into the files, Natasha and Wanda made a quick order for food from the Italian place around the corner.

Right after the food came in and Wanda had refilled all of the glasses, you gave a short cry of triumph and flipped the computer around to show them the layout of the Hydra base, as well as the information needed to get in. The three of you smirked while raising your glasses in a toast, celebrating that for once you were able to get all of the information needed..

The rest of the night was spent making a plan of attack and then double and triple-checking to make sure everything would go as planned.

You slipped into your apartment silently, placing your heels next to the door and padding softly down the hallway. The whole apartment was dark except for the lights of the busy New York street shining through the window. Using the little bit of light and muscle memory you managed to weave around the furniture, setting your jacket and purse gently on the living room table on your way to your room.

You could see Bucky, sprawled on his side of the bed, body facing the door as if he had tried staying up so he could make sure you got in all right. You sighed, letting your body sag against the door frame briefly even though you winced as your sore muscles ached, a reminder of what you had gotten up to tonight. Even though, originally, it was supposed to be just Wanda and Nat infiltrating the base, you had had to go in to hack some computers. It was just bad luck that those computers were guarded by some giant, beefed up Hydra goon who seemed to be immune to effects of a fucking taser. Needless to say, it was extra satisfying when he did eventually succumb to Natasha’s famous thigh chokehold.

Bucky was snoring lightly, but it seemed as if his sleep would be undisturbed tonight, almost as if his body sensed that one more nightmare was no more. You stepped forwards and cursed loudly as you tripped over his combat boots and went sprawling across the floor. As Bucky startled awake and flipped on the light, you sat there hissing and briefly wondered how satisfying it would be to just throw them in the trash right in the moment.

“Babydoll?” he asked, his voice rough and low as if he were still half asleep, “Is that you?”

“Yeah, it’s me,” you huffed, wincing as you climbed back up,, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you. Go back to sleep, Buck.” 

“Don’t worry about it, I was waiting on you anyways.” Bucky pushed himself up the bed and sat back to watch as you started to gather all of your supplies to get ready for bed. “How was your Girls’ Night? Did you get some free drinks tonight?”

“You know it,” you shot back, winking over your shoulder. You heard his breath hitch as you drew your dress up and off, revealing your black lace thong and push up bra. You turned around and before he could say something you know would lead to both of you not getting any sleep that night, you pointed a finger at him and said, “Not a word, buster.”

Bucky raised his hands in the air with an innocent expression on his face that was quickly overtaken by a charming smile, “I wasn’t goin’ to say nothin’, doll….but now that you mention it, that set does looks stunning on you.”

“Ah ah!,” You cried, wagging your finger once more, “It is 2 AM, James Buchanan Barnes, and we are both exhausted. We’re getting some sleep before anything else, ya hear?” Bucky laughed but agreed, sinking further into the bed the closer you got to finishing your nightly routine. By the time you were climbing into bed yourself his eyes his body had sunk into the bed and his eyes were slowly blinking. Once you were comfortably resting on your side facing him he tucked an arm across your waist and pressed his hand between your shoulder blades, pulling you closer to his body until you both were unable to figure out where one started and the other ended.

“I’m glad you had a fun night with the girls, babydoll,” Bucky whispered into your hair groggily.

“Thanks, baby,” You whispered, smiling as you heard the soft huffs of his breath above your head. You kissed the shoulder closest to you and sighed as you sank into the warmth of his body, the bed, and the knowledge that Bucky was now safe from one more nightmare.

tags: @babiiface95

Dividers by: @whimsicalrogers

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female!reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you

[imaginedhaven]

Reluctantly Rooming: Part Ten

Link to Masterpost

It took a while to get back to this, but here we are! I hope you guys enjoy.

Today’s prompts:

Character A waking Character B from a nightmare

and

Aelin falling asleep in Rowan’s room

~*~*~

As her movie ended, Aelin stood and stretched with a yawn. Rowan had long since relocated to his own room, but thanks to the odd hours she worked at the bar she knew she’d likely be up for at least another hour or so. Since their truce had begun, though, Aelin had taken to spending her last few waking hours in her own room, reading or doing something else that would generate less noise than the television would.

She quietly folded the blankets she had nestled into, knowing that leaving them where they were would only serve to drive Rowan up a wall. She’d already done quite enough of that, however unintentional the earlier kitchen fire had been. Once that was done, she tucked her shoes into the corner of the room beside his and then crept up the stairs.

She had just changed into her nightclothes when she heard a crashing sound from across the hall.

Aelin frowned. Rowan was asleep, and she had locked everything up before coming upstairs, and last she’d checked she hadn’t left anything in a precarious location.

Gods, had someone broken in?

She wouldn’t rest until she’d investigated. She had to know they would be safe. With that in mind, she grabbed the first object with decent heft that her hand landed on and carefully opened her door.

As she was passing Rowan’s room, she heard a clattering sound, as though a desk or dresser drawer had been upturned and its contents scattered. Gods, had they made it up the stairs already? Was Rowan—?

She had to know.

Knowing the element of surprise would be about the only thing she had going for her at this point in the night, Aelin flung the door open, letting it slam into the wall as she charged into the room and then paused with a frown when a seemingly-empty bedroom was all she saw. What on earth…?

Green eyes peered at her from across the bed, then narrowed. “Aelin Galathynius, what on earth are you doing in my room, brandishing… is that an umbrella?”

She looked down at what she had grabbed, flushing when she realized he was indeed correct. “I heard noises,” she said, voice sounding weak to her own ears. “I thought…”

“Never mind what you thought, just…” The top of Rowan’s head disappeared beneath the side of the bed, and a hand emerged to make a dismissive gesture.

Something gave Aelin pause, though, and she played his words back in her mind. His voice had been rough, rougher than she would’ve expected from having just woken up, and his eyes had been red and almost…

Haunted. His gaze had been haunted, and not even the surprise of seeing her had cleared the emotion entirely from his expression.

Instead of leaving, she vaulted herself over the bed to sit beside him. She had been right about one of the noises, at least; the top drawer of his nightstand lay beside her, its contents scattered except for a frame that rested in Rowan’s hand. Curious, she nestled herself against his side and peered closer.

Inside the well-worn frame was a picture of a woman. She had soft brown curls and warm honeyed eyes to match, and she was giving the photographer a soft, secretive smile as her arms wrapped around herself as if in an embrace. “Who is she?” Aelin asked quietly before she could think better of the words.

Rowan’s tone was harsh as he responded. “No one. Not anymore.”

She frowned, glancing up at him. Maybe she’d asked the wrong question. “Who was she, then?”

He sighed, setting the photograph aside before staring down at his hands. “Her name was Lyria. She was my wife.”

Aelin blinked, stunned. She’d had no idea he’d ever even been in a serious relationship, let alone married. “What happened?”

“She died,” he replied simply.

Before she could think better of it, she wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face into his shoulder. There were no words she could think of to say to such a thing, but for all that Rowan’s career involved selecting exactly the right words for any given situation, she had a feeling he would prefer her silence now.

As she’d suspected, Rowan finally sighed again and wrapped an arm around her to return her embrace. Finally, she heard him speaking, his voice soft and distant. “I was away on a business trip. She hadn’t wanted me to go, but I couldn’t turn it down, not that time. She didn’t tell me why she didn’t want me to go, either. I came back to our apartment to find the whole building had burned to the ground. A kitchen fire, they said. And she… She’d been planning to tell me she was pregnant.”

Realization dawned in Aelin’s mind. “That’s why you were so worked up this morning. When the fire alarm woke you up.”

From her position, she didn’t see him react, but she could feel him nod once. “I thought I was still asleep, at first. I wasn’t there when it happened, but in my dreams it all happens right in front of me, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.”

“And the noises I heard…”

“I knocked over the drawer,” Rowan admitted. “You probably figured that out already.”

“No, no, before that,” she replied with a frown. “Your drawer isn’t big enough to make the crashing sound I heard.”

“I’m not sure what you want me to say.”

Aelin lifted her head from his shoulder to glance at their surroundings. Nothing else was out of place except for the sheets on his bed, tangled around his foot. “You fell out of bed. Didn’t you?”

Rowan scowled. “You’ll never find out.”

“That’s a yes, then. Come on, let’s get you back into bed. I know you’ve got an early morning.” She stood, carefully detangling him from the sheets before tucking them back onto the bed.

“I presume you have a plan for making sure I actually sleep,” Rowan drawled.

“Of course I do. I’m going to sit on the corner of your bed and talk to you until you fall asleep out of self-defense. It’s worked every time I tried it in the living room.”

“Gods help us all.” The reply was teasing, though, some of the light finally returning to those green eyes, so she decided to allow it.

“Come on, get up.” True to her word, she sat on the corner of the bed, gaze fixed on him expectantly.

With a groan, Rowan finally stood before sliding back into the bed. His eyes narrowed as she deftly tucked the sheets in around him before sitting back down. “So that part wasn’t a joke, then.”

“Did I laugh when I was saying it?”

“That would’ve ruined the joke.”

“I laugh at all my own jokes. I’m hilarious. You should laugh at more of them than you do.” At Rowan’s skeptical look, she sighed. “Light on or light off?”

He frowned, clearly considering the options. “Light off,” he finally said. “I won’t sleep with it on. I’ve tried.”

Aelin smiled and stood, turning to face him as he suddenly coughed. “Something wrong?”

“Did I interrupt you with all this? Where’s the other half of your… outfit?”

She looked down at herself, confused, only to be met with the sight of the pink satin and creamy lace of her favorite nightgown. Oh. She hadn’t thought about what she’d been wearing when she barged in. Still, it was best to own it, and so she grinned up at him. “There is no other half.”

His frown deepened. “Do I dare ask what you’re wearing underneath it?”

She pretended to consider his question, one finger tapping her chin. “Ordinarily I’d say you have to buy me dinner first, but you have been doing all the cooking for weeks, so I guess I can allow it. Your answer is nothing.”

She couldn’t quite catch exactly what he growled, but soon she found herself clutching soft plaid flannel and realized he had tossed a pair of pajama pants at her. “Either leave or put them on,” he said with a scowl.

On any other night, she would’ve protested that she could wear what she wanted. But he had revealed so much of himself to her tonight, and with one glance in his direction it was easy to see how much that had cost him. Just for tonight, it was only right that she comply.

Besides, the pants were unfairly soft, and she couldn’t deny she would love the feeling of soft flannel on her legs.

Once she settled the waistband on her hips, she had to bend over and cuff the legs a few times so that she could actually walk. She was positive she looked absolutely ridiculous, but she’d been right about the softness of the material and therefore she decided she didn’t care as much as she probably should’ve.

Before he could make fun of what she was sure was a comical sight, she flipped the light switch and plunged the room into darkness before making her way back to the bed.

This time she did actually lie down, but she kept a respectable distance from him and stayed on top of the covers. It’s only practical, she told herself. Might as well get comfortable, if this is going to take a while.

Rowan turned to face her, or at least she thought he did; it was just a little too dark to tell for certain. “What are you doing?”

“Getting comfortable. If you’re so sure it’s going to take you so long to go to sleep, I might as well be in a position that won’t hurt my back.”

If she could’ve seen his face, she was positive she would’ve been met with the image of him rolling his eyes. “Whatever you say.”

She grinned, even though she was sure he couldn’t see her either. “I’m going to need you to say that more often.”

He huffed out a soft laugh. “Don’t make this weirder than it already is.”

She paused to consider his words. Perhaps he was right, and this was a weird boundary they were blurring. Still, it felt right. “I don’t hear you telling me to leave.”

“I suppose you don’t.”

Before she could come up with something to ramble about until he fell asleep, she heard the sound of his breathing even out. While she’d been sure he would eventually fall asleep after all, she was certainly surprised he’d managed to do so this quickly. Perhaps it was for the best, though.

She shifted slightly to see if the movement would wake him or if she could safely leave, only for his hand to reach out toward her and gently clasp her own.

Message received. It seemed she was staying after all.

She found it was perhaps too easy to drift into a dreamless sleep beside him, their fingers carefully entwined even though the rest of their bodies stayed on their own sides of the bed. Just one more thing that was probably weird, but felt entirely too right.

~*~*~

@ireallyshouldsleeprn @queen-of-glass @fangirlprincess09 @sassys-world @morganofthewildfire @superspiritfestival @perseusannabeth @sis-it-dont-add-up @jlinez @julemmaes @emilyoftheshadows @thegoddessofyou @mymultiversee @swankii-art-teacher @rowansfirebringer @livsdriverslicense @courtofjurdan @danibutterr @woollycat22 @rowaelinismyotp @sleeping-and-books @acciowests

#haven writes #rowaelin #reluctantly rooming

[hargrove-mayfields]

Harringrove April Day 16- Nostalgia

On just about every flat surface in their mansion, Steve’s mother had put out some fancy Tiffany light fixture.

Steve’s room was the only place in the whole house he got to have any day in the interior design, and his lamp, well it didn’t quite have a stained glass shade, or ornate detailing to fancy up the mansion, his happens to be an old nursery lamp from when he was six and still had a themed bedroom.

At the peak of his too cool for school teenager bullshit, he’d attempted to throw it out, sent it away to the curb with a bag of stuffed animals he claimed he didn’t need anymore, but the very same night he started having nightmares again, so he scrambled to get it back before the raccoons found it first.

That dusty old lamp had saved him from countless nights spent awake and terrified, and he wasn’t one to say he was ashamed of that.

Except, now Billy Hargrove, the pinnacle of badass, is in his room, and there it is, still plugged in on the nightstand.

Of all things too, it couldn’t have just been a generic race car lamp or something he could play off as not really being for kids, it had to be stupid Bambi.

There’s a story behind it, that when he was a toddler, his first venture out of Indiana was to go see his gramma over in Maryland, and, after one look at his big brown eyes and his fluffy brown hair, she immediately nicknamed him Bambi.

After that the name just sort of stuck with him, his parents using it when they wanted on his good side, to make up for forgetting his birthday, or as an apology for leaving him alone so long the babysitter left, so of course his mom thought it would be adorable if his bedroom was themed around it.

Somewhere in a dusty corner of the attic, he still had the curtains and the quilt and the wall hangings, and under his bed was a pillow embroidered with his name and a picture of the clumsy cartoon deer made by his gramma. And of course, there was the brightly shining lamp.

He would never admit that he kept them there for when he was at his most frightened, clutching the pillow to his chest during a nightmare, or wrapping the soft material of the tiny old quilt around his shoulders when he felt an imaginary pair of eyes watching him.

Because Steve had seen some shit, he felt that after witnessing a ten-foot tall faceless monster come through the ceiling and try to kill him, and having a herd of baby versions of that same monster charge at him with nothing but a baseball bat to protect himself and a group of defenseless children, he had earned the right to use a damn nursery lamp in his bedroom.

But, that ass-backwards swell of pride at still using his childhood comfort items at 19 years old is definitely crushed by the fact that, after being in his room for a grand total of five minutes, that’s immediately what Billy drifts to.

A drunken apology at a New Year’s party might have made up for the concussion and proved he was probably not going to beat his face in again, but it didn’t change the fact that he was in Steve’s bedroom with the edge of the printed lampshade pinched between his fingers, and a contemplative look on his face.

It was a little while after their truce was reached, that Billy just started showing up at the Harringtons’ door unannounced. Sometimes it was to borrow Steve’s first aid kit. Sometimes he’d steal some of his weed. Once he’d come over just to watch something on Steve’s TV. Whatever his reason, Steve had let him in every time.

In this particular instance, it had been Steve who had called Billy, because he had a math project and an essay due first thing tomorrow morning, and Nancy was too busy to help him.

At first he’d considered just not getting the work done, but he decided Billy would do. He was smart enough that the co-ed teacher in the math class they shared had begged him to switch to the advanced classes, so Steve figured his help wouldn’t be so bad.

But his desk where all of his school stuff is is upstairs in his bedroom, where he’s left out the dumb baby lamp, and of course that would be exactly what Billy goes straight for. Steve feels himself start to panic a little, unsure if he could trust Billy’s reaction, and convincing himself that Billy might beat his ass for being a fragile little fairy or something.

It never comes, Billy just sits down all casual on the bed next to Steve, pulling one of his legs up so he could cross it over his knee, and nods over at the lamp again. “Wish I still had something from when I was little.”

The weight of the entire universe is lifted from Steve’s chest, knowing that Billy isn’t going to tear his head off. He lets out a sharp breath he didn’t know he was holding in. “Yeah?”

Billy nods and looks down, fidgeting with the pendant he always wore around his neck. “My dad threw everything out. All I have is one little picture of my mom.”

Steve knew he lived with his step-mom, but had never even thought about what happened to Billy’s real mother. He realizes the pendant was probably a locket, the very one that holds the aforementioned picture, and asks “Can I see it?”

It looks like Billy has to think about it, as he keeps twisting the locket between his fingers, before he nods and opens it. Steve leans towards him, putting his hand up under it and holding it in his palm, straining to see the tiny, aged picture.

Even though he’s never seen this woman, it makes Steve incredibly sad, seeing her little face all worn out in that locket around her son's neck. He wonders if she was dead, or if maybe she’d lost custody for some reason, or if maybe she had just left, but whatever happened, when his eyes flicker back up to Billy’s face, the tears shining in his eyes and the way he avoids his gaze, he knows better than to ask.

Steve lets the locket fall and watches Billy snap it shut quickly, and he realizes he has no idea what the right thing to say is.

What he wants to say is that he’s sorry, for him losing his mother and having nothing but one yellowed and tear stained picture to remember her by, but that seems too much like prying, somehow not really appropriate.

Instead, he remembers what Billy said about his dad throwing his stuff out and says, “Your dad must be a real asshole, huh?”

Billy scoffs and blinks away the last of the tears in his eyes. “You’ve got no idea, Harrington.” There’s a long awkward pause, until Billy asks, “You know how I’m always coming over here with like, all kinds of shit wrong with me?”

Steve thinks he knows where this was going. “Sure.”

Chewing on the corner of his nail, Billy takes a moment to get his thoughts together, his eyes flitting nervously across the room, focusing on pretty much anything but Steve, mostly the picture frame behind him. “I lied. It’s not, like, fights or whatever I say. At least not with other kids.”

Steve himself was no stranger to conversations like these, he himself had to confess something of a similar calibre to Nancy, when they were still dating, because his father had come home from a business trip pissed off about something, and slapped him across the face just a little too hard. The sturdy silver ring that he wore on his middle finger had split the skin on Steve’s cheek, and he couldn’t come up with a good enough excuse to cover his tracks.

Admitting to it out loud was one of the hardest things he’s ever had to do, so he decides he won’t make Billy say it. Maybe they weren’t on the best of terms, only here to do homework or whatever, but if he was going to open up about this, he definitely wasn’t going to make him experience that same humiliation he had.

“Is it your dad? That does that to you?” Nancy hadn’t been kind enough to spare him, forcing him to tell her once that the scar he so proudly sported wasn’t actually from a fist fight with Tommy like he said, and he wouldn’t do the same to Billy.

In lieu of a response though, Billy sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth, his hands starting to shake ever so subtly, and Steve knows he’s got to keep pressing. “Do you need help? I can call the chief-“

“No.” Billy shakes his head and makes eye contact with Steve for the first time since he started talking. “Cops only make it worse.”

Steve could understand that, had tried once when he was about eight or so, with the assistance of one of the housekeepers, to call the police when his father twisted his arm so far behind his back his shoulder popped out of place, but they wouldn’t dare arrest a public figure like his father, especially not for a little corporal punishment. The first thing they’d asked was what Steve had done wrong, not why his father had felt it fitting to beat on his eight year old for a tiny mistake. He never asked for help again.

“Well is there anything I can do?” Despite their differences and the fact that he only called him here to cheat on his homework, he truly did want to help Billy. Something about repeatedly surviving horrific monster attacks made him a lot more protective of those around him, and now that they were over their dumb pissing contest, Billy was included in that too.

“Think you’ve done enough letting me into your mansion, unless that’s not good enough for your hero complex.” It was a pathetic jab, there was no bite behind his broken tone, and Steve would almost rather have him at his worst than see him so vulnerable and sad.

Steve tries to reason with him softly, “You know it’s not like that, Billy.”

“Do I?” Walls had been put up as Billy made his last ditch efforts to protect himself from being weak in front of Steve. “Cause where I’m sitting, it seems like you get off on charity cases like mine. You tryin to swoop in and save me, King Steve? Feed your ego so you can feel like the savior you were always meant to be?”

He was baiting him, trying to pick a fight so he’d push him away, Steve had seen it all before in himself and wouldn’t fall for it. “Listen. I just want to help you.”

Everything about Billy suddenly seemed to make a whole lot more sense. That whole part animal, tough guy thing was just an act, and Steve knew because he had done essentially the same thing.

Before Nancy Wheeler had taught him to be better, he and Billy really weren’t so different. He’d let high school bullshit bother him, beat up the nerds and fucked all the cheerleaders and mocked anyone lower than him on the social ladder like he was supposed to, but it always made him feel off.

In the end, it had been so easy to get him to the other side, to show him what to do instead, he supposed all he needed was a little push to help him actualize what he already believed.

And then it hits him, in that moment, that this was Billy’s push in the right direction. That he was Billy’s Nancy.

“I don’t expect you to tell me everything and I’m not doing this for me, just,” It became extremely important to him to not set Billy off, to say just the right thing to keep him on the right track. “my door is always open, Billy.”

At first, it seemed to have worked, Billy sat staring at the floor, his lip quivering as he mulled over Steve’s words, but, when he stood abruptly and snatched his leather jacket from where it was draped over the back of Steve’s desk chair, Steve knows he messed up.

“Where are you going?” He stands up fast enough to give himself a head rush while Billy shrugs his jacket back on and yanks the door open.

“Need a smoke.” That’s all he gets before the door slammed in his face, and he hears Billy's heavy boots stomping down the stairs and the sound of him slamming his front door.

He waits with bated breath and tears pricking the corners of his eyes for the sound of Billy’s car starting and tearing out of his driveway, but it never comes.

Still, he feels immensely guilty and selfish and stupid as all hell for not just biting his tongue. He should’ve just fought back, argued with him like was expecting him to instead of trying to be comforting like he was his fucking therapist or something.

Because this was Billy fucking Hargrove, stereotypical meat head bully. Why he even felt the need to help him, other than their similar upbringings and coping mechanisms, or the fact that Billy had obviously been reaching out, hoping for someone to care, was beyond him. Or maybe it really wasn’t, he knew exactly why, he just felt weak and stupid for trying, and especially so for failing.

Apparently he’d been so caught up in his little pity party that he missed the sound of the door opening back up, and didn’t notice Billy had come back until his bedroom door was open.

Steve was so relieved that Billy came back, that he hadn’t pushed him too far or fucked everything up, even if he reeked of too strong cigarettes, and growled at him when he came in, “Don’t we got fucking work to do, Harrington?”

They don’t end up finishing the essay. Steve was hopeless with numbers, and they were too busy goofing off, so the math project didn't get done very quickly. It was okay though, Billy wasn’t much help at all when it came to English anyways.

Steve walks him outside when he has to go, beating a curfew of midnight. He stops on the porch, immediately crossing his arms against the frigid cold of the night air. Billy stops too at his car, his fingers through the handle, and turns around, calling across the yard. “Hey Harrington?”

He hardly waits for Steve’s response, a quick “Yeah?” to tell him, “Thank you.”

There isn’t time for Steve to respond before Billy’s yanking open the door of his Camaro and backing out of the driveway, but he knows he’d still made astronomical progress tonight.

It makes him feel incredibly dumb, laying in his bed that night, illuminated by the warm light of that very same Bambi lamp and trying to put his thoughts of Billy to rest like he was some cheesy teenage girl, but he’s just happy to have found a friend, to have made a difference in somebody’s life, and he knows that on the other side of town, laying in own bed with his locket left open on the pillow beside him, Billy feels the same way.

#harringrove #harringroveapril #billy hargrove #steve harrington #billy x steve #ej writer #story by ej! #love how I had something completely different planned but ran out of time and had to dig in my drafts for this fic #and it still took me forever to edit it