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starry-bi-sky · 5 months

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i've mentioned in a few past posts about an au where Danny is a variant of Jason Todd. I haven't made a post about it yet because I need a good rhythm flowing however i've been listening to Gladiator by Jann and I have been having thoughts.

but first, let me set the au:

Danny Fenton is Jason Todd, or at least, a variant of him. A him from a universe separate to the major Batman timeline - but still Jason Todd, down to the structure of his face and his name itself. The only thing that changes, is who picks him up - and, that he follows old Batman canon, and was an orphan. Jason Todd steals the tires off the batmobile and wallops Batman with his tirejack, and then runs off. Shortly after, he gets picked up by the Fentons.

(Customary line break,,,, word count check: 5k)

And his name changes from Jason Todd to Danny Fenton. He doesn't care much for the new name change, it stems from his mute refusal to share his name to the people that picked him up; an attempt to make him untraceable should he get away from them, and to keep something of his to himself. So they name him something new. He grows to like it enough as he acclimates to his new family.

(He hangs onto the name Jason Todd like a secret - he may be 'Danny Fenton' now, but he'll never forget his time on Gotham's streets. He'll always be Jason Todd.)

(Jazz is the only one who he tells his name to in the family - she affectionately calls him Jay whenever she wants.)

He becomes friends with Sam and Tucker and deals with Dash and his bullying. And when Danny steps in during a fight between Dash and another student, Dash gives him a bleeding nose and mockingly says, "Do you think you're Robin just because you're from Gotham, Fenton?"

Jason looks him in the eyes and he bares his teeth, "Why not?" he asks, spitting blood, "being Robin gives me magic."

The nickname sticks. It's supposed to be an insult; Daniel Fenton is not Robin, he'll never be Robin. Not now, not in a million years. Jason Todd has always wanted to be Robin, so he takes the insult and wears it proudly. He buys a school varsity jacket and painstakingly undos the stitching of all the school's motif on it. On the breast of it, he embroiders in a black circle with the Boy Wonder "R" on it instead. It's not good stitching, but the next day Danny wears it down to breakfast and into school.

In normal au canon, Daniel Jason Todd-Fenton (its a mouthful, just call him Danny) only meets the Waynes after he becomes Phantom - an event that leans more towards Daniel Fenton's accident than Jason Todd's death, but traumatizes him all the same. (Is it too much to want to be mourned? His best friends like to deny that he died - and Danny - Jason? - wishes they wouldn't, even if he did come back.)

(The accident embitters him, even more when his parents don't seem to pick up on it. He stops calling himself Danny Fenton - he's always been Jason Todd. It shows itself in his ghostly form. He doesn't want to wear the thing he died in, not in something that belongs to the Fentons, and his suit reflects that.)

In this timeline, Daniel Jason Todd-Fenton, aged 13, meets Dick Grayson and Bruce Wayne after a mishap with magic on the other end of the reality sends the three of them careening through time and space, and spat back out on the other end, in a world not their own. And together.

Danny is paired with a very confused Bruce Wayne and Richard Grayson. Luckily, there's a few heroes there to help them. Danny can hardly comprehend the idea that he's in another universe - he doesn't know why Dick Grayson and Bruce Wayne are seemingly handling it well.

On their way to a secondary base with the heroes, Danny turns to Bruce Wayne and asks, "So, is it part of rich-person training that you're just totally chill with being sent into another universe, or are you just weird?"

Bruce Wayne huffs at him, rather than get offended, and he smiles that dumb lopsided billionaire smile that Danny's seen on every vogue magazine he's been in. "I'm not so worried with these skilled heroes here to help us get home."

Danny silently concludes that he's just weird. At least Dick Grayson is biting back a smile behind him. "Riiiight..." He says, dragging the vowel out dryly.

When they get to that secondary location -- a safehouse that one of the heroes had set up -- the three of them are sat in a living room-like room while one hero, Zatanna, goes and calls someone from the Justice League. The other two heroes stay with the three of them.

Within a few hours, Danny is face to face with Batman - someone who he hasn't seen since he whacked him in the stomach with a tire iron - and Nightwing. For a moment, Danny swears that the both of them look almost spooked by him.

Batman stares at him for a moment when he enters, and then he goes to speak with Bruce Wayne. Danny doesn't care enough to hear what they're talking about, he pulls out his phone as Nightwing goes to speak with Dick Grayson.

"Are you a fan of Robin, little man?" Someone says, and when Danny looks up he locks eyes with Dick Grayson -- who is leaning around Nightwing to talk to him, the both of them are smiling. And considering who Nightwing was, Danny finds himself turning pink to the ears.

But he will not hide his jacket. He forces a grin through his embarrassment, "Hell yeah, man, Robin's cool." He says, and pushes his arms down to pull out the hem of his letterman, showing off the emblem. "I made it m'self out of a school varsity after the A-Listers started callin' me Robin."

"A-Listers?"

"Popular kids," Danny corrects, loosing his hold on the hem and brushing invisible wrinkles out of the embroidery. "They didn't like that I kept stepping in when they were bullying. Dash asked me if i thought I was Robin because I was from Gotham."

Dick Grayson looks intrigued -- and concerned, and he leans forward onto his knees and raises an eyebrow. "What did you say?"

And Danny grins a shark-like thing, straightening back his shoulders with a burning sort of smug pride and all the sharpness of broken glass left in Crime Alley. "I told him being Robin gave me magic, and then I punched him."

Dick Grayson's smile widens, splitting into showing teeth as he leans back into his seat. Danny isn't sure why he's so delighted - but Nightwing looks incredibly amused, and he suddenly remembers that the Robin himself was there in front of him.

Danny's face burns anew and his arms fold themselves in front of him once again.

"I don't think I ever caught your name, Robin." Dick Grayson goes, his voice thick with laughter, and Nightwing steps off to the side as Batman and Bruce Wayne walk over to join them both. They're just close enough that Danny can see Bruce Wayne raise an eyebrow at them both.

"It's Jason." Danny says before he can think about it, and barely stops himself from frowning at himself for the slip. He amends himself, glancing over at Batman and Bruce as they get closer. "But everyone calls me Danny."

Dick Grayson's head recoils slightly, and he looks a little surprised. "Why Danny?" He asks.

"Why Dick?" He shoots back, and Bruce and Dick both smile at him, with Dick Grayson shrugging with an expression that looks like 'you've got a point.'

In the end, the three of them - yes, three - get sent to this world's Wayne Manor, and Danny is bewildered by that decision to include himself -- he's not a Wayne. Why not just send him to the Fentons?

Batman tells him that the Fentons don't exist in this world, and Danny falls silent. "Oh." He says quietly, a pit growing in his stomach with an ill-kind of dread. He can't keep Batman's gaze, looking away with unease.

No Fentons in this world. No Fentons. Where was he then, in the grand scheme of things? Where was he in this world? What happened to Jason Todd? Was he even alive? He can't keep the worry off his face, and he jumps when a hand lands on his shoulder. When he looks up, Dick Grayson squeezes him gently.

Dick Grayson is steadily beginning to remind him of his sister.

They end up driving back in the Batmobile. It's such a shock to Danny that he momentarily forgets the lack of Fentons. He makes a laugh sound, actually, and immediately he covers his hand with his mouth and stares at the car -- tank? with his teeth sunk into his lower lip.

"Jason?" Dick says, and hearing his name being spoken feels like someone touched him with a livewire. It's weird, it's foreign - he hates, in some way, that it's foreign - and it's so nice. Yes, that's me.

He drops his hand immediately. "Sorry." He says, realizing he'd stopped in his tracks, "I -uh, was just surprised."

"It's not every day someone sees the Batmobile." Dick agrees. Nightwing has his back to them but Danny swears he sees his shoulders shaking a little.

"Yeah," Danny nods slowly, dragging his eyes over the batmobile as Batman opens the driver's side and gets in. He thinks for a moment, of what he should say next - whether to admit that he's seen it before, or to pretend that he's seeing it for the first time. Snd as Nightwing opens the door for him, Bruce, and Dick, he chooses the funnier option; "The last time I saw it, I was stealing its tires."

To his surprise and unsurprise, Danny only gets two pairs of eyes on him. Nightwing gets into the passenger seat as both Bruce and Dick turn their gaze onto him; Dick's eyes big like they were going to bulge out of his head.

"You what!?"

So Danny tells an amazed Dick Grayson that he hit Batman with a tire iron after he stole his tires - something he is very proud about and also incredibly embarrassed about when he retells what happened in the backseat of the batmobile, with Batman and Nightwing listening in from the front seat.

(Bruce Wayne doesn't ever tell Dick shit, he's going to lord this over Bruce's head the moment they are alone.)

"Please tell me this didn't happen in this world." Danny groans behind his palms as he sinks into his seat. Dick Grayson is killing himself laughing on his left, and he saw Bruce Wayne stifling a smile before he obscured his vision with his hands.

Much to his luck, its Batman himself who speaks next, (Danny was being mostly rhetorical). "It did." He says, and his voice sounds like the rumble of the earth before a stampede. It will never not throw Danny off every time he hears it. "It takes quite a lot of spunk to steal the tires off the batmobile."

He can't believe it. Batman is making fun of him. Fucking, Batman.

He wants to die with embarrassment. He groans even louder as Dick Grayson's laughter crescendoes. Danny risks a peak through his fingers, he doesn't know whether to regret it or not because he can just barely see Batman smirk very faintly from his position in the middle.

(His world axis tilts five degree leftways seeing it; like someone dunked a bucket of ice water on him.)

"He ended up being adopted by the Bruce Wayne of this world."

Danny's hands drop with his jaw into his lap. Dick Grayson on his left chokes on his laughter and careens into a coughing fit. Bruce Wayne on his right chokes on air, and quickly recovers himself with a cough behind a closed fist.

"What?" Danny croaks.

Apparently, Bruce Wayne's family is much larger in this world than it is in his. Danny can barely wrap his head around the idea that he ends up adopted by the man, but now he has to learn that Wayne had several children in this world?

He's still not wrapped his head around it when the three of them wind up at Wayne Manor, finally, or even when he's standing in front of him himself. For his effort, Bruce Wayne does a good job at looking unruffled by it.

God, he's weird. Danny's starting to quite like it, actually. How human of him.

He still can't wrap his head around it when he meets the rest of Bruce Wayne's children, all of whom are already aware of the three of them. Danny thinks that someone from the Justice League might've alerted them before they got here.

It makes sense, he supposes.

It helps that they are just as weirded out as he is. A boy named Tim Drake sees him for the first time and blurts out; "Oh wow, you're tiny." In a tone like he's just seen a two-headed snake burst out of the ground.

Danny is still offended. He's still growing. It's not his fault he spent twelve years of his life malnourished. "I'm gonna be taller than you," he tells him seriously, "and when I do I'm gonna kick your ass."

Tim snorts at him.

The other Bruce Wayne -- Mr. Wayne's -- youngest looks at him up and down with a face of carefully controlled judgement. His name is Damian, he's Bruce Wayne's only biological son. Danny can't believe that there's only one.

If anything, Bruce Wayne himself looks surprised too.

"Todd, yes?" Damian says, his green eyes narrowed at him.

Danny feels like the specimen under his parents' microscope, he feels like he's standing on a platform that's being slowly spun by scientists. He looks over at Bruce Wayne in confusion, and then back at Damian. "I- yes?"

Damian Wayne nods, and then leaves.

Danny does not once see himself. That is unsettling in and of itself - surely Jason Todd would have been told about another version of himself in this world, wouldn't he? How old is he here? An adult, probably. Danny doesn't know if he wants to see him. What does he look like when he's grown up? He pulls his Robin jacket around him a little tighter, like a cocoon, like a shield.

"It's weird to hear them call me Jason Todd." He says aloud to himself, and it leaves a weight behind in his chest that shouldn't hurt the way it does. It shouldn't be weird to be called your name. It shouldn't cobweb up your throat to hear your name being said. It was his name. It was his.

Danny acclimates to the manor slowly. The house is big, massive. He's never been in a house so large before, he feels like a stray cat being taken in for the first time, again. He and Bruce and Dick Grayson are all given their own separate rooms - one of many inside this mansion - and the sheer size of his bedroom is bigger than his living room and kitchen combined.

it's daunting. Danny sits outside on the balcony and stares at the stars he can see - Wayne Manor is far enough away from Gotham that its light pollution doesn't obscure the sky here like it did in the heart of it.

Danny finds the constellations he can find and wishes he had his books with him. He finds the library the next day and buries himself in the back, curling up into a comfy armchair next and inhaling each book he can get his hands on.

Tim Drake wanders past him at some point, Danny would have missed him if it weren't for the fact that Drake stared at him strangely when he saw him. He walks away when he realizes Danny was staring back.

It's a rinse and repeat for the next few days. Danny doesn't go to meals, he sneaks food from the kitchen afterwards, and then buries himself in hundreds of books in the library.

Dick Grayson, the one from his world, goes and finds him three days later. Danny's eyes hurt with strain by then, but he is furiously halfway through a Jane Austen novel when Dick sits down across from him.

"Have you been here all day?" Dick asks, he drapes himself across the side of his chair, contorting himself into a position that Danny doesn't think is comfortable when he looks up at him.

Not that he looks up at him long - he hums absently and goes back to reading. Frowning when he realizes he lost his place on the page.

Dick Grayson raises an eyebrow, "Have you at least eaten anything?"

Danny hums. No, he hasn't, and he hadn't thought about eating all day. Until now that is, his frown ever deepening as his stomach pangs with a deep hunger.

"That's not healthy."

"Mhm."

"Are you going to eat something?"

"Mhhh."

And this gets Dick to frown. He straightens himself up, propping onto his elbows to stare at Danny. "Jason." He says strongly. And it's that that gets Danny to finally look up from his page, jumping like he'd again been poked with a live wire as he stares at Dick with wide eyes.

"Yes?"

"Put the book down." Dick orders, gesturing towards the side table next to Danny with a nod. "And come eat something." There's very little room for argument in his voice, he sounds like Jazz when she's trying to parent him, but instead he actually sounds authoritative. Not bossy.

Danny still frowns at him. "You're not the boss of me." He says, sinking back into his chair with a thumb bookmarking his page.

Dick gives him a look and makes a decisive noise, swaggling his head side to side while he does. "I'm pretty sure that for as long as we're here, me and B actually are the boss of you."

He's never really liked authority figures, not ones that tried to boss him around, that is. Danny doubles down, his lips curling into a shadow of a scowl. "Just because you're my brother in another world doesn't mean you can act like it."

"That's not what I mean and you know it."

"I don't want to go eat."

"It's not good for you to skip meals."

"Quit talking like Jazz."

"Danny."

Danny sinks his teeth into his lip and scowls darkly at him, shrinking into the back of his armchair in hopes that it'll swallow him whole. The idea of going into that large fucking dining room fills him with a dread that makes him completely forget his appetite.

"Your fucking- dining room is- it's too big." He grits out, finally closing his book and hugging it tightly to his chest.

Dick blinks at him. "What?"

"You heard me! It's too big. This whole place is too big. It's- what do you even do with this much space? I don't know how this- other me ever lived here."

Dick Grayson surprises him, and his expression softens. "Oh," he says, "I get it."

"You do?" The tension bleeds slowly out of Danny's shoulders

"Yeah, I felt the same way when I first moved in with Bruce. I lived with the circus for most of my life, but I slept in a trailer." He says. And he talks more.

The end result of their conversation ends with Dick Grayson offering to let Danny sit across or next to him during mealtimes, and that he can talk to him if he starts getting uneasy. But he can't keep skipping meals - it was making them all worried.

Danny agrees, and Dick takes him down to the kitchens for food.

"They look at me weirdly too." He grumbles as they leave the library, Danny's book returned to the shelf where it belonged. When Dick looks at him curiously, he scrunches his nose up. "The - your other siblings. They look at me like I'm- I'm someone else. S'weird."

"Isn't that a good thing?" Dick asks, "You are someone else."

Dany shrugs, staring at the ground with a heavy frown. "I don't know."

Danny seeks out Dick more after that. And vice versa. Dick reminds Danny of Jazz, and he latches onto the familiarity like a leech. If Dick is bothered by it, he doesn't show it, whether he's talking to his other world's self, to the Bruce's, or to one of the other Wayne kids.

Damian Wayne seems particularly keen to seek him out, Danny finds. He thinks it means that they're close in this world, and that Damian wants to see more of what a young Dick is like. That's what he would do, at least.

He takes up on Dick's offer of seating near him during dinner, and finds an open spot across from him. Unless he has something to show him, then he sits next to him.

("You can call me Jason." He tells him one day when they're in the Wayne's massive, fuck-off gym and they're both climbing over the jungle gym. Dick's showing him how to be more flexible. It's the most Danny's worked out ever, he likes the burn it gives him.

Dick looks at him in surprise, "Really?" he's doing a handstand on the bars and Danny's more than a little jealous at his balance.

"Yeah, dipshit," he says, rolling his eyes, "I'll even let you call me Jay, it's my nickname."

Dick happily takes him up on that offer, and much to Danny's embarrassment, starts calling him Jaybird. All because of his stupid Robin jacket.)

Danny has yet to meet his other self still, it's scaring him a little. Where was he? And matter of fact, how long until he could go back to his home dimension? The three of them hadn't gotten any updates since they arrived.

Speaking of, he was starting to talk to Bruce more, it was just... strange. Even stranger than talking to Dick. Bruce Wayne in another life would have been his adoptive father, Danny can't wrap his head around it for the life of him.

Whatever did Bruce Wayne see in Jason Todd that made him worth adopting? He's too afraid of the answer to ask. They start talking more after they run into each other late at night. Danny had been hit with a bout of insomnia and was going to the library.

He ran into Bruce on the way. He was just.. staring, out the window, with a faraway look in his eye. He didn't even look startled to see Danny standing there.

Danny asks him if he wants to go to the library with him. It was out of panic. He isn't expecting Bruce Wayne to agree, and they walk there in suffocating silence. Danny keeps looking at him from the corner of his eye.

("You're staring?" Bruce doesn't sound upset, Danny jumps anyway.

"Yeah, sorry." his voice sounds stilted, "it's just..." his jaw wires itself shut for a spell, "...you looked like you were about to disappear."

"Ah.")

When they reach the library, Danny leads Bruce Wayne into the science section and takes out books upon books about stars. He leads him over to the armchair and fire and they both sit down on the ground.

"When I lived in Gotham I would stargaze." Danny says, it's the first thing he can think of. Bruce Wayne looks at him quizzically. "Well, I would try to. The sky's too polluted for that. Mostly I would just watch the skyline and try and spot Batman and Robin, was the same thing."

That cracks a smile out of Bruce. It's a small one, barely there. "I hardly think the two are comparable."

Danny is still serious. "Not to me."

He goes on, talking about how after he was adopted he got his hands on every star book he could find. He loves english and he loves to read, but something about the stars drew him in like a song. He rambles about every star fact he knows with Bruce Wayne.

Bruce Wayne surprises him by telling him facts he didn't know. Danny soaks it up like a sponge, listening intently to him speak. And when they run out of star books to talk about, Danny tells Bruce that it was his turn to find something for them to talk about.

Bruce Wayne smiles again at him, a sly little thing like Danny's challenged him, and gets up. He comes back with a stack of film books, and they spend the next few hours going through them. Bruce Wayne rattles off every single movie fun fact he knows, and there is so much that he knows.

Danny is in awe, and moves to press against Bruce's side to see the stuff he points at in his books.

"You're smarter than people give you credit for." He says at some point, when his eyes hurt from being open for too long and his head leans against Bruce's arm for support. It follows with a jaw-cracking yawn that he tries and fails to stifle.

"Thank you, Danny." Bruce says, his voice soft and soothing and not helping with Danny's weighing exhaustion. His eyes drift, and then jerk open. "Do you want to go back to your room? You look tired, chum."

He bites back a smile at the nickname, and fails to keep it bitten. "No, no, I'm awake." He mumbles, shaking his head slowly. "I wanna hear-" he yawns again, "-hear you talking."

Danny swears he can hear the smile in Bruce's voice as he speaks; "Alright. Now, where was I?"

In the end, Danny falls asleep on the floor of the library next to Bruce Wayne. He doesn't even realize it until he wakes up the next morning. But it's not to worry, Bruce Wayne fell asleep too, an arm thrown around Danny protectively like he was his own kid.

This becomes a thing for them soon enough. When neither of them can sleep, they go to the library and talk and talk about whatever comes to mind.

There comes the dreaded night after they've finished whatever book they were looking at when Bruce, the little shit, turns to Danny and goes; "You never mentioned what happened after you hit Batman with a tire iron."

Danny groans, big and dramatic, burying his head in his arms, and ignores the low chuckle. "I thought he was gonna chase me down for sure." He complains, his voice muffled by his arms.

"Why did you hit him with a tire iron?"

The look Bruce gets is one of pure disbelief. "If Mothman suddenly showed up behind you while you were taking the wheels off his ride, you'd hit him too!"

"Last time I checked, Mothman isn't real." Bruce told him amusedly, and Danny flops over onto his back to stare him down. His arms sprawl out like a starfish, intentionally hitting Bruce in the shoulder.

"You don't know that, Batman's a cryptid and he's real."

Bruce roars with laughter, and Danny preens like a bird.

That next morning when Bruce passes by him for breakfast, he reaches over and ruffles his hair. It's the same thing he does for Dick every morning. It's the first of many, and it gets many stares from the surrounding family.

Bruce has a newspaper tucked under his arm, and when he sits down Danny stands up and skedaddles over to him, leaning over the side of his chair to peer at the paper.

"Any cryptids spotted, Buzz?" He asks, getting a startled laugh out of Bruce, who looks up at him.

"Buzz?"

"Well, yeah," and Danny states it as matter-of-fact. He gestures his head at Dick Grayson. "Dick calls you 'B', and B is for bees, and I can't just call you Bees, that's dumb. So; Buzz."

He grins triumphantly when Bruce laughs quietly, his shoulders shaking imperceptibly. "I know," he tilts his head up proudly, "I'm a genius."

Now he's actually laughing, dropping his head into one of his hands and trying to quiet himself as much as possible. Danny is positively beaming, ignoring the stares of the other Waynes as he flounces back to his seat just as the other Mister Wayne enters the room.

When Jason Daniel Fenton Todd meets Jason Todd for the first time, they both just stare at each other.

Danny recognizes himself immediately in the library, and he freezes up. His tongue ties to the roof of his mouth, and he's unsure of what to say.

He doesn't need to say anything at all, because when Jason Todd looks up and they lock eyes, they both just stare. And stare. Jason Todd is a large, hulk of a man, built like a brick shithouse, with a tired, traumatized look in his eyes and a white streak in his black curls. The same black curls that Danny himself has.

He has no idea what to say. Or if he should turn back around and leave.

Jason Todd sighs at him, "I know they told me you and another world's Bruce and Dickie were here," he says, but it sounds like he's talking to himself. Even moreso when he mutters half-heartedly, "-but I was hoping I wouldn't run into you."

Danny feels small next to him. He doesn't know why. "Sorry." He says lamely, his one foot skips back, "I can leave if you want." It's unlike him to be meek, he thinks. Not after years of Gotham living and dealing with the likes of Dash and his Jerk Jocks.

But this also isn't the streets, and this isn't other kids being dicks. Jason Todd shakes his head, and gestures with one large arm for Danny to come over. "You don't need to do that, you were coming to read, right?"

He nods, and tentatively makes his way over. When Jason looks at him, he sees him cast his eyes over his Robin jacket - he wears it everyday. Danny sees him narrow his eyes, just slightly. But he says nothing.

It's... a strange conversation. Interaction. Jason Todd doesn't talk to him much, and if he does it's stilted and awkward, like he doesn't know how to treat him. Like he's holding him at arm's length.

Jason's getting tired of being treated like a ghost.

They talk about their books. They compare lives. Jason Todd was picked up a few days after he stole the wheels of the batmobile. He wasn't an orphan, he lived with his mom and his stepdad before he lived with Bruce. They both like to read, only Danny has an interest in the stars.

("What do your adoptive parents do?" Jason Todd asks him, one arm slung over the back of the armchair, he looks relaxed. He looks tense. Danny feels like he's back in Crime Alley again.

"They're 'ectologists'." He says, making air quotes over the word. He rolls his eyes, "Ghost hunters. They study the dead and all things afterlife."

Jason Todd makes a dry laugh huff, a sarcastic half-smile on his face. He doesn't explain why he does, Danny doesn't ask why. It doesn't seem like his business.)

Danny wants to ask him where he got that white streak in his hair. It doesn't feel right. It feels like his parents' lab, and that isn't right. Nothing ever feels like his parents' lab.

Jason Todd leaves first after giving him a few book recommendations. Danny isn't sure how to rate the experience. Being in Jason Todd's presence was like standing in a liminal space. An empty parking lot at night. When he leaves it feels like much the same thing.

He struggles to read his books afterwards, unable to shake the feeling of being haunted.

#THERE WILL BE A PART 2 #dpxdc #danny fenton is not the ghost king #dpxdc crossover #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #danny is jason todd au #daniel jason fenton todd #daniel jason fenton todd?#man i love these variant aus huh #somehing about exploring identity man #I DIDNT EVEN GET TO THE PART THAT WAS THE WHOLE REASON I MADE THE WHOLE POST #that will be in part 2 onfg #but its so late i've been writing for literally hours #you know its late bc these tags aren't half as long as they normally are #its not a starry au unless it needs a read more #there's so much fluff here folks #so much fluff #it was supposed to be rlly only between dick and danny but bruce the sneaky bastard snuck in there #bc i needed him to also??? be on Good Terms with danny #parental ambiguity with the fenton parents. are they good? are they bad? who knows!#claps loudly IT IS VERY IMPORTANT THAT DANNY DOES NOT FIGURE OUT THEIR IDENTITY AT ALL DURING THIS #starry coming in hot with another unnecessarily long au #none of my friends are in DPDC so tumblr gets it instead

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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 30 days

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In Stars and Disco

(Disco side of the swap)

#in stars and time #ISAT #Odile #Siffrin #Isabeau #Mirabelle #Bonnie #disco elysium #The origins of this crossover came from my playthrough journal in which I wrote down “I think Siffrin should play disco elysium”#Something about failing forwards in general - but some scenes would *shatter* them. Maybe in a good way.#I think they would get to the first dream and need a few months before picking it back up again.#I am not sure if the developer of ISAT has played dDisco Elysium but Odile & Siffrin as a duo have strong HBD & Kim vibes.#Which I am so here for. Accidently or purposefully - it scratches an itch I never thought I would get scratched again.#Both are really good games with gutpunching writing and I want to spread the word. I am doing my part!#Yeah I put Bonnie as Cuno. I know exactly what I'm doing.#Isa is Titus - hard to tell because I gave up on drawing the hat.#This AU in any form is really fun to write comics for so I will be back.#Thanks to all the ISAT fans who have been really friendly so far! Hello hello!

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queerxqueen · 6 months

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writing my silly fanfiction and googling romantic things like "can you survive getting stabbed in the eye" and "how fast does a body decompose in water"

#this is my byler slasher horror au. pls ask me about my byler slasher horror au.#i wanted to write the gays kissing but then all this Plot showed up and how did we get here #byler #need to title this wip so i can have a tag for when i talk about it hmmmm

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afewproblems · 5 months

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Season Two Halloween AU Part Ten (Final Part)

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine

Synopsis: What if Eddie had been at Tina's Halloween Party in Season Two? Featuring Steve!Whump, Stancy Breakup, and Eddie just trying to keep up with all these new revelations about who King-Steve actually is...

Thank you to Jess @strangersteddierthings for your encouragement and kind words, and to all of you that have been following along with this story. Thank you for your patience, I hope you enjoy the final installment!

***

It doesn't take much to get Dustin on board, especially given the little shits ego.

Nancy and Eddie manage to catch him outside during lunch period the following day, next to the bike racks. With Hawkins Middle just a block away from the highschool, it's easy to make their way over.

"Called it, I totally called it," Dustin preens with a wide grin, Eddie holds back the urge to roll his eyes.

Nancy levels Dustin with an unimpressed glare as she crosses her arms.

"It's not too late, we could make this work without him," Nancy says dryly, and Eddie has to bite his cheek to keep from laughing at the way Dustin's mouth drops open as he looks between Nancy and Eddie with a stricken expression.

"No, wait!" Dustin says, his voice pitched high with panic, "I want to help!"

"Steve is a good guy, he helped my mom with the groceries last week because she had to work late," the kid continues, his voice softer now.

"I can tell he's sad, when he thinks you aren't looking at him, mom had the same thing after my dad left".

Dustin looks up at Eddie now, a wary suspicion in his eyes, "he's been like that since the last time I covered for you," he throws long exaggerated finger quotes around the word, 'covered' as he openly glares at Eddie.

"What did you say to him before the tunnels?" Dustin demands fiercely, and even Nancy turns to look at Eddie with a questioning tilt to her head.

Frustration courses through his chest now, hot and bubbling, he has to take a deep breath to keep from yelling.

As if Eddie hasn't been asking himself that very question, as if he hasn't been turning that moment over and over in his mind, trying to find the moment, the words, responsible for Steve's distance.

"Dustin," Nancy says sharply, "this is not the time--"

"What are you talking about," Dustin turns to Nancy, gesturing at Eddie who bristles, "we're making a plan and that should include what not to say this time."

"This was a stupid idea," Eddie bites out, turning on his heel, his ears are warm under his hair and he can feel the angry flush slowly make its way down his neck, he takes three steps before a hand catches his elbow, halting his path.

"Okay Dustin knock it off," Nancy says quietly, her head on a swivel, watching for any lunchtime stragglers lingering around them or teachers on supervision.

Satisfied that no one seems to be watching their conversation, she turns back to Eddie and squeezes his elbow one last time before letting her hand drop away, "and you, calm down, we're all here because we want the same thing".

"Well, some of us more than others," Dustin pipes up, wiggling his eyebrows at Eddie who wants to sink into the concrete.

"Dustin," Nancy bites out between her teeth, "Mike said the Snowball is in two days, think you could get Steve to take you?"

Dustin scrunches his nose as he looks at Nancy, "are you kidding," he scoffs, "all I have to do is tell my mom Steve offered to take me and she'll call him to thank him, he'll have no choice but to agree like it was his idea".

Nancy blinks once at Dustin and Eddie can't help but stare at the little monster's face as he grins up at the two of them. It's honestly a good plan given what Eddie knows of Steve, and even Nancy begins to nod slowly.

"Okay, then your job," Nancy turns to Eddie now, "is to surprise him here when he arrives at the dance, Dustin's right".

Nancy doesn't look at the little twerp as she says it but nearly rolls her eyes at the triumphant laugh that bursts forth from the kid.

"An ambush is probably the best way to catch him, and Eddie," Nancy turns to fully face him and reaches out to squeeze his arm with small hands, "just…be gentle with Steve, as much as you can".

"Are we all clear on the plan then?" She asks, taking a step back towards the sidewalk path leading back to the school.

"Yes mom," Eddie huffs, shooting Dustin a matching grin as Nancy sighs loudly.

"Just be here for seven," she says tightly before turning in her heel and stalking off towards the highschool.

"She's pretty intense hey?" Eddie says, turning back to the kid, he trails off at the scowl Dustin gives him in response.

"Nance is cool and has a gun, I wouldn't mess with her and I wouldn't mess with Steve if I were you," Dustin scoffs, taking a step closer.

Eddie swallows roughly at the sudden proximity, looking around the school yard for any stragglers making their way back to class.

"Keep your voice down you little shit," he hisses, reaching out to pull Dustin farther away from the bike rack and the double front doors. He tries not to let the news of Nancy's weapon cache fluster him but Dustin must see something in Eddie's expression if the sudden smug grin is anything to go by.

"I'm just saying, you're new to the party and we protect each other, so if you're just looking to mess with him--"

"Jesus Christ," Eddie hisses, bringing his hands up to his eyes. He presses his fingers in until his vision explodes in a kaleidoscope of stars and counts to five, breathing deeply through his nose.

"I'm only going to say this one more time, so tell your little party because I ain't doing another shovel talk from someone whose voice hasn't even dropped".

Eddie ignores the squawk Dustin makes as he lowers his hands, "I just want to talk to Steve and see where this goes, I am not getting my hopes up that this is all gonna be 'Happily Ever After' or some shit, and you shouldn't either".

Eddie watches as Dustin frowns skeptically and has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from rolling his eyes.

"But I swear, I'm not messing with him, okay?"

Dustin stares at Eddie for what feels like an age, saying nothing. His gaze is anything but warm, it feels like he's being analyzed and he wishes that Nancy were still here to absorb some of the strange attention the kid has focused on him.

Eddie is about to tell him to forget it, to storm off back to the highschool when Dustin finally utters a simple, "okay".

It throws Eddie off for a moment, he stands in the patchy November worn grass, shivering in the harsh wind, mouth opening and closing in surprise.

"That's it?" He asks faintly, watching as Dustin swings his backpack off his shoulder and unzips it. He reaches in and pulls out a bright yellow walkie talkie and holds it out to Eddie expectantly.

"The party frequency is 467.5625," Dustin says as Eddie takes the device.

He looks from the walkie in his hands to Dustin and scoffs, "you expect me to remem--"

"Channel eight then, Jesus," the kid huffs out, "don't make me take it back, this is a big deal Munson, you're one of us now".

Eddie holds back a smile but it's a near thing.

It feels strange, the warmth in his chest at the words. It shouldn’t feel as big as it does, but the heavy walkie in his hands feels like acceptance, something Eddie has always insisted that he never needed. He had Wayne, he had Hellfire, and Corroded Coffin, what did it matter if the other teens gave him a wide berth in the halls, or if teachers assumed the worst of him without evidence.

But as Eddie taps the walkie onto the palm of his left hand, that feeling of warmth grows until it travels up his throat into a sudden lump that chokes his words.

Fuck.

Eddie blinks away the burning sting in his eyes once, twice, before lowering himself into a bow to hide the moisture he knows is just a split second from becoming a very evident problem.

Dustin steps back in surprise as Eddie coughs to hide the waver in his voice.

"I uh, humbly accept your invitation and will endeavor to assist with all future quests, even upon pain of death or dismemberment oh noble bard".

Eddie lets a small laugh loose as he stands back up to his full height, grinning at the delighted giggle Dustin makes, even as the kid loudly insists that he's actually an Artificer, duh.

"Could've fooled me with that inspired speech dude," Eddie shakes his head and begins making his way back towards the highschool, letting gravity take him down the small hill towards the trees with heavy steps. He feels lighter now than he has in a while.

Absolutely nothing could go wrong.

"Wait!"

The sound of quick steps and crunching dead leaves announces Dustin before Eddie can even turn to face Hawkins Middle.

He skids to a stop at the bottom of the hill, breathing heavily with a wild grin on his small face.

"I know we have a plan already, but I think I have an even better idea," he breathes out, nearly vibrating in excitement.

"Better than Wheelers?" Eddie says, raising his eyebrow and slowly crossing his arms over his chest, careful not to drop the walkie in the grass.

"It's genius," Dustin insists, "trust me".

***

It was not genius.

It is in fact the stupidest thing that Eddie has ever done.

Including the time he skipped school to climb the tallest tree in Mirkwood on a dare and ended up breaking his collarbone after falling ten feet.

But, Eddie supposes, this is exactly what happens when one listens to a thirteen year old.

Maybe this was how all urban legends started, as unsolicited advice from snarky little pre-teens with more confidence than common sense.

All of a sudden, you end up stowed away in the back of a car trying your damnedest to keep quiet so as not to tip off the driver.

Who you happen to be eavesdropping on. Again.

Fourth time's the charm after all.

Eddie tries to stay as still as he can, crouched down in the back of Steve's Beemer. How the hell did those Urban Legend serial killers make this seem so easy, Eddie thinks as they manage to hit yet another pothole, jostling his position behind Dustin's seat. Eddie's heart beat feels incredibly loud in his ears as he holds his breath between his teeth.

He wonders belatedly just what Hopper would do if he drove past them now and tries to swallow the sudden anxiety that clings to his throat.

"Remember," Steve interrupts Eddie's thoughts with his insistent tone, "you don't care, you're as cool as a cucumber, you let everything roll off your back," Steve says as the sound of the turn signal begins, the rhythmic tick tock keeping pace with his words.

"Like a duck?" Dustin asks from the passenger seat and Eddie has to fight to keep the snort that threatens to break free from his nose.

"Uh, I guess, just, look," Steve sighs as they slow down for a light if the red glow is any indication, "you don't want to come on too strong, what happens when you come on too strong?"

"It blows up in your face," Dustin says quietly as Steve speaks in unison with him, slapping the steering wheel once with the flat of his palm, making Eddie flinch in the back.

God. Is that what Steve thinks he did?

"Exactly, Henderson, you got it! So what are you?"

"Cool as a cucumber," Dustin repeats, this time with more conviction in his voice and Eddie hopes the kid is a better actor than he thought because that is not the lesson he wants him taking away from this evening.

"Because you don't care," Steve says again, tapping the steering wheel with each word for emphasis and Eddie can hear the grin in his voice as he shifts in the driver's seat.

"I don't care," Dustin repeats again, though in a much colder voice than before, and suddenly Eddie knows if Dustin could see him now, he'd be staring daggers at him.

Eddie rolls his eyes, he's not going to take the blame for every single word and feeling coming out of Steve's mouth and it isn't fair of Dustin to heap all of it on Eddie.

"You look like a million bucks, go get em tiger," Steve says gently as the car comes to a gentle halt. There's a fondness in his voice that Eddie hasn't heard before.

He's never had a sibling either, but Eddie imagines that this is exactly how it would feel, witnessing their firsts, cheering them on as they head into the unknown. Being their protector from the things that go bump in the night, even if that thing was as small as a first heartbreak.

God. King Steve just had to be a secret sweetheart didn't he?

Not that it was really much of a secret, Eddie thinks as Dustin opens the passenger door and hops out of the car--

Oh shit.

He had been so engrossed in the conversation he'd been eavesdropping on, yet again, that Eddie had forgotten to sneak out.

He had even kept the back passenger door open, ever so slightly, to avoid the sound of it alerting Steve when he made his escape at the same time as Dustin. Then all they had to do was line up their doors closing at the exact same time and Steve would be none the wiser.

Oh God, he really did it, Eddie really listened to a thirteen year old and expected the plan to work.

And what's worse, he's the one that had fucked it up and now, he's trapped.

Eddie takes a deep breath through his nose and releases it as slowly as he can through his mouth. It feels as though an elephant is seated on his chest and his lungs can't quite keep up with the weight as his ribcage slowly begins to cave in.

He has to get out, he has to run, he has to get out, he can't be caught in here, he can't ruin this again.

He starts at a sudden tapping on the window and holds his breath as Steve leans over from the driver's side towards his passenger door.

"Dustin?" Steve huffs as he moves back into place, his arm stops to rest on the passenger door just above Eddie's legs hidden in the darkness of the back seat.

"Steve! I, uh, forgot something, in the back," Dustin's voice is slightly strangled as he stumbles through the explanation for his sudden reappearance, "uh, my backpack!"s in days with their plan in place.

"Okay," Steve says slowly, drawing out the second syllable as he drops his hand from the passenger seat, "let me look--"

"No!" Dustin barks out, leaning further into the vehicle, from the new angle Eddie can see the panic on his young face.

"Dustin? What--" Steve huffs as the kid climbs back into the front seat, grabbing Steve's arms and forcing him to continue facing forward.

And perhaps it's the absolute ridiculousness of the situation that makes Eddie laugh, the look on Dustin's face, or the confusion in Steve's voice, but he can't help but contain the loud snort that bursts forth from the back seat.

Shit.

Eddie's heart drops into the floor of the vehicle beneath him as Steve and Dustin both freeze.

It's like time stands still for an eternity, though snow begins to slowly fall outside the Beemer and the far off buzzing of music and laughter continues to emanate from the school gymnasium.

Eddie moves first, lifting his hands to cover his face as he slowly sits up. He presses his fingers harshly into his eyes until a kaleidoscope of stars and fireworks appear in the darkness, before lifting them slightly to move into his hair and pulling at the roots. Eddie keeps his eyes closed as he hears a sharp intake of breath and movement from the driver's seat.

"Eds? Dustin, what is going on, what are you doing here?" Steve says, his voice growing louder with each word until Eddie opens his eyes.

Steve is staring at him, his large hazel eyes are wide and his brows have pinched in the middle, cutting creases across his forehead. He looks at Dustin before turning back to Eddie again, the frown on his face slowly morphing into a sneer.

"Figures," Steve breathes out before turning to Dustin once more, "you two planned this?"

Dustin has the decency to at least wince at the accusation, "it's not like that--"

"Just," Steve cuts the kid off, the word harsh, almost a snarl before Steve deflates, sinking back into the driver's seat and letting his head drop back onto the headrest.

He breathes out long and slow through his nose before continuing in a much softer, tired voice, "go to the dance Henderson".

Dustin opens his mouth to rail against the dismissal, to stop whatever train of thought has run through Steve's mind, but Eddie beats him to it.

"Dustin," Eddie sighs, dropping his hands away from his hair to his lap, "let me take my lumps man, go".

Dustin makes a noise that seems to be a cross between a curse and a growl, his expression venomous, before he steps back and closes the passenger door with a loud metalic bang.

Eddie vaguely remembers Dustin and Nancy's threat and the guns she supposedly owns and suppresses a shudder.

One problem at a time.

Eddie hauls himself into the back seat and groans at the rush of pins and needles dotting along his arms as he moves into a normal position once more. He rubs his hands along his arms and legs, wincing at how loud he is in the absolute silence of the car.

Steve isn't looking at him, his face pressed in between his hands at 11 and 1 on the steering wheel.

"So," Steve mutters after a beat, startling Eddie as he sits back up from the wheel, "you were listening to me. Spying. Again."

"Steve," Eddie starts, only for the other man to continue on as though he hasn't heard him.

"The only thing I can't figure out is why?"

Steve turns in his seat to look at Eddie, his face carefully blank now but for the slight downward pull at the left corner of his mouth. The bruises from Billy's recent beatings have faded to a sallow yellow and even the collection of cuts from the shattered ashtray have begun to scab over.

The sight makes Eddie ache.

"Did Tommy put you up to this?" Steve interrupts Eddie's thoughts, his stare unwavering.

"What?" Eddie whispers, horrified, "what are you talking about?"

"You, you keep," Steve's voice rises slightly, a hysterical edge begins to creep in as his breathing quickens, "inserting yourself into my shit, you--I told you that I," Steve swallows heavily and blinks, his hazel eyes shine in the glow of the streetlight.

"Tommy is the only one who knows about me, so--so whatever he's got you doing," Steve sucks in another short breath, it's wet at the edges and Eddie feels his chest tighten as Steve's voice wavers.

"Steve--"

"You know what," Steve hisses as he reaches down to tug the keys out of the ignition, his breathing still slightly erratic, "just don't".

Eddie watches, frozen, as Steve wrenches the driver's door open and throws himself out of the vehicle, slamming the door shut behind him.

Eddie sits in silent shock for a moment, as though his limbs have filled up with sand, holding him in place, before he manages to scramble towards his own door.

"Steve!" He shouts, wincing as he slams the car door behind him, prompting several kids and parents walking into the middle school behind them to look in curiosity.

He catches a glimpse of a maroon sweater darting into the trees.

Gotcha.

Eddie hurries after him, cursing Dustin's insistence that, 'with this plan you won't need a coat, there's no waiting outside at all!'

He tamps down the hot feeling of irritation creeping up his chest and into his throat. It's a ridiculous night, first spent crouched into the back of a car and now traipsing through the woods to what?

Chase after someone who clearly wants nothing to do with him? Who has been purposefully avoiding him since that night in the tunnels.

Nancy and Dustin had it wrong, this was stupid.

What was he thinking going along with their batshit plan --not that Nancy deserved credit for the car thing, that was all Henderson.

Eddie pushes a branch out of his path and steps over a snow covered log, cursing the fact that he can feel the chill creeping into his toes through the thin canvas of his converse sneakers. The shoes also have little traction in the fresh snow that seems to be coming down even harder now as the night goes on.

As if to prove a point Eddie slips on a wet patch of leaves and swears at the sudden pain in his back as he struggles to keep upright.

He's breathing hard, puffs of frozen breath billow out and away from him in the cool night air

'Be gentle with him,' Nancy had said, as if she knew this would happen. As if she knew Steve would run the first chance he could and Eddie would follow.

He shakes his head and takes a deep breath, letting it in and out, allowing the frustration and anger from the last few days flow out with each breath.

"Steve," Eddie shouts as he finally catches a glimpse of maroon and tawny hair through the thicket, "just stop, man!"

Steve halts, halfway over a fallen log, but doesn't turn around.

Eddie ducks under another branch and into the small break in the trees that Steve is in. He can see the way the other man's shoulders rise and fall rapidly in the meager moonlight but whether from panic or exertion, Eddie can't tell.

"Steve," Eddie says as he takes another wary step forward, as though approaching a wild animal.

"You promised we'd talk," Eddie tries to swallow around the sudden lump in his throat, "was that a lie?"

Steve says nothing still, though he turns his face just enough that Eddie can make out his profile in the low light.

Eddie sighs heavily, sliding a shaking hand through his hair, "what would Tommy want with the town freak anyway, he'd be more likely to put sugar in my gas tank than talk to me about anything, Steve".

"So," Eddie breathes out slowly, feeling his heart rate begin to climb as he prepares to take the leap, "rewind a bit, and catch me up on just what is going on in that head of yours sweetheart".

He sees the moment the words register in the way Steve stiffens, the way he slowly turns towards Eddie, his face pale and his eyes wide.

"You…you've called me that before, in the car," Steve says slowly, in fits and starts, "I thought it was a dream".

Eddie takes another step closer, watches as Steve traces his movement with wary eyes.

"I think that was the most scared I have ever been in my life Steve, I thought you were dead, and it made me realize something," he swallows heavily, it feels like glass all the way down.

"I was an idiot," Eddie whispers, his breath floats away in the cold November air as he shivers, "and didn't understand what you were trying to tell me at the Byers".

Steve winces slightly and nods, he opens his mouth to say something but Eddie beats him to it.

"IthinkyourNonnawasontosomethingSteve," the words tumble out in a long nearly unintelligible string, "I want to be in your life, whatever that means, however you'll have me," his lungs stutter slightly as Eddie takes a deep steadying breath.

Steve's head tilts slightly to the left as he regards Eddie with a infuriating black expression, his eyes searching Eddie's own.

"As friends?" Steve says slowly. There's a leading note to his voice that Eddie tries not to wince at.

He can't quite help the way his shoulders drop at the words though. Of course, of course he'd been right the first time. Steve was straight and, despite his better judgment, Eddie had gone ahead and gotten his hopes up for nothing.

"If that's what you want," Eddie agrees, forcing a wane smile that doesn't meet his eyes.

Steve's expression betrays nothing still as he moves through the thicket in two steps, his gaze never wavering from Eddie's own as he crosses his arms over his chest, still guarded despite how close they are.

"And if I wanted something else?" Steve speaks softly now, the words travel in between them through gentle puffs of frozen breath.

They're nearly the same height, Eddie might be a half inch taller or so, but from this close it doesn't matter.

Eddie can see the flecks of green in his eyes, the collection of freckles and moles across his nose and cheeks; if Steve is an Autumnal King in a sunset, he's absolutely otherworldly in the moonlight. The pale snow falling around them almost makes it seem like he's glowing.

"Glowing huh?"

Fuck.

Steve's face splits into a soft smile, his eyes crinkle at the corners, pulling at the yellow bruised skin. He breathes out something resembling a laugh through his nose as he says, "well, you're not so bad yourself Munson".

Eddie takes another step closer, his heart racing at a mile a minute, "s'that right?" he asks, lifting his hands to grip at Steve's arms.

He lets his ungloved hands run up and down, reveling at how soft and warm the sweater Steve's wearing is before settling at his elbow.

Steve's eyes slowly trace over Eddie's face, before his expression morphs into the determined one that Eddie recognizes from that horrible night in the tunnels.

"I'm sorry," Steve swallows roughly before clearing his throat. He takes a deep breath and shakes his head as Eddie opens his mouth to speak, "please, just let me explain first, and then you can," he bites at the inside of his cheek as his hazel eyes move beyond Eddie's gaze into the trees.

"You can, make your decision or whatever".

Eddie hesitates for just a moment, squeezing Steve's arms once more before he lets go.

Steve gives Eddie a tight smile, before closing his eyes, "I've known Tommy since we were like six, sandbox kids right?"

"Our dads were friends, they worked together, so it just made sense, and we were close, we did everything together," Steve opens his eyes but doesn’t look at Eddie, "Tommy knows a lot about me, stuff I've never told anyone, not even Nance".

Steve sighs, kicking roughly at a cluster of leaves and snow on the ground, "not that she hasn't figured a bunch of it out, she's smart like that".

"I remember talking about girls for the first time when we were Dustin's age, Tommy had a crush on Linda Holloway, he liked her red hair," Steve smiles faintly, but it quickly disappears as he finally meets Eddie's eyes once more, "and I didn't think anything of it at the time, I just thought we were sharing who we thought was cute so I--"

He stops speaking, his breath stutters for a moment as he shakes his head once and curls his arms even more tightly around himself.

"Steve--" Eddie tries, reaching out once again with one hand before he curls his fingers away as though afraid to touch him.

Eddie wants to tell Steve that he doesn't need to continue, that he understands, but Steve has regained his voice, soft and unwavering.

"I told him about Mary McKinney, she let me borrow her pencil whenever I needed it and always wore her hair in braids," Steve licks his lips, his eyes flitting between Eddie now and the ground, "and, about Brian Donovan, he was on our little league team and he had the best dimples I'd ever seen".

Steve's lips twist into a shy smile this time as he looks at Eddie, "maybe second best now".

Heat rises in Eddie's cheeks, his heart thrums in his chest and he can't stop the pleased grin from taking over his face at the words.

God, he's so fucked.

Steve continues on, if he notices Eddie's blush in the low twilight he doesn't mention it.

"Tommy said that was weird to think of boys like that, the same way I thought about Mary, and not to talk about it again. That didn't stop him from bringing it up after that," Steve sighs heavily now, "I couldn't so much as make eye contact with another guy at school without Tommy telling me off".

Anger ignites in Eddie's chest, spreading up his throat and curling around his hands which suddenly long to meet Tommy Hagans stupid face.

He'd never cared for the guy. Too far up his own ass over the years with a mean streak a mile wide. Add to that a penchant for making other kids' lives absolutely miserable and you have a recipe for a douchebag that Eddie based nearly half of the Munson Doctrine on.

The other half, well, that had also been influenced by Steve, but if Eddie was being honest, he had no clue who the real Steve Harrington was.

No one did.

Hopefully, in time, Eddie could change that.

"I'm sorry for not trusting you," Steve whispers, his face tipped down to the ground, "I think I've had his voice in my head for so long that I couldn't stop myself from listening to it".

"You want to know the worst part?" Steve asks quietly, he scoffs, not bothering to wait for Eddie to reply, "he acted like he was doing me a fucking favour, like he was protecting me".

He shakes his head, lifting a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose as his voice wavers suddenly, "maybe he was, in his own way--"

"Nope," Eddie barks out, startling them both with the sudden volume filling the trees, "that rat was trying to save his own skin by trying to control you, you owe Tommy nothing".

Steve looks at Eddie with wide shocked eyes. He's standing so still that Eddie wonders if he's stopped breathing.

"Maybe he thought he was doing you a favour," Eddie laughs, it's a cold bitter thing that hangs low amongst the tree roots and plant litter, "and in public sure, I get it, but honestly if he could only be friends with this version of you, then he wasn't really ever your friend, Steve".

"If someone doesn't like you just as you are, then they aren't worth it".

Steve is still staring, he hasn't blinked the entire time that Eddie has been speaking…it's a little unnerving.

"So," Steve asks, hesitantly, halting Eddie's train of thought, "what about you?"

He's even closer now and, when the hell did that happen.

"Me?" Eddie says faintly, his eyes drop once to Steve's lips, they're slightly chapped but have never looked so God Damn kissable.

Eddie takes a deep breath, and smiles softly as he lifts his hands to grip Steve's elbows once again, squeezing gently before sliding them down to take his hands.

They're large and warm in his own, callused along the palms from where the nail bat had sat in his hands. Eddie lets his thumbs run along his knuckles, lingering on the healing scabs from his fight with Billy.

"You weren't what I was expecting," Eddie says, watching as Steve's head tilts again at the nonsequiteur, "especially after the party when I tried to give you back your sunglasses".

"You care, about the kids --even when they are being self destructive little shits, about Nancy even though she broke your heart," he traces his thumbs over the tops of Steves hands when his fingers twitch, "and you care about me, enough to put yourself out there even though you had no idea if I felt the same".

"You are brave, crazy brave to the point where I'm a little worried about why you're so quick to just throw yourself in front of danger, but," Eddie shakes his head as Steve bristles this time, ducking his face away from Eddie's watchful eyes, "we'll unpack that another day".

He takes a deep breath and slowly lets go of one of Steve's hands, shaking as he reaches up to cup Steve's jaw, tipping his face up until his eyes are level with Eddie's once more.

Steve's hazel eyes trace over Eddie's face, wide and glassy in the moonlight. They are close enough that Eddie can feel the shallow puffs of air against his lips as Steve's breathing quickens.

"Did the doctor say anything about your face," Eddie asks, gesturing at his own with his one free hand, "recovery time?"

Steve shakes his head with a confused frown.

"Good," Eddie takes a deep breath, allowing a wide lecherous grin to bloom, "because I like you, Steve Harrington, exactly as you are, and I'm going to kiss you," he lifts his other hand now to cup the other side of Steve's face, "but I only make it hurt if you want me to, big boy".

Eddie freezes as the words he just said register.

Oh Fuck.

Who pulls out Big Boy like five seconds after confessing their feelings?

Eddie groans lowly and shuts his eyes for a beat, only opening them at the tentative sound of Steve's voice.

"Eds," Steve laughs, his face flushed a deep scarlet, giving Eddie a sly smile of his own, "that was really bad, like really bad".

Eddie sighs, embarrassment beginning to curl, hot and heavy, in his chest as he removes his hands from Steve's face, "I know…"

He startles at the feeling of warm fingers wrapping around his own, drawing his hands back to where they had been on Steve's face, "it's a good thing I like you, so you can get more practice".

"Yeah?" Eddie whispers, his voice hoarse as though he can scarcely breathe. He watches as Steve smiles, counting the crinkles at the edges of his eyes and the way his scarlet flush has faded to a soft pink.

He wants to freeze this moment, burn it into his memory so he'll never forget the soft happiness in Steve's eyes.

"Yeah, Eds," Steve breathes against his lips as their noses brush, "exactly as you are".

Eddie's not sure which of them moves first, it's only the faint brush of chapped lips against his own that sets off an unhinged chorus of, 'Kisskissingkisswhatthefuckyou'rekissingSteveHarrington'.

Eddie's fingers tighten against Steve's face before his hands begin to move on their own, one along his jaw until it has wrapped around the back of his head, burying his fingers in thick soft hair. His other hand shifts slightly lower, his thumb presses into Steve's jaw until his head tips back.

The noise Steve makes against his lips as Eddie moves him sends a thrill down his spine. He feels two hands slide up his chest, over his shoulders, and around his neck as Steve presses himself even closer. Eddie's fingers tighten in Steve's hair, almost involuntarily, as the pulse under his thumb climbs even higher. Eddie hums contentedly and smiles into the kiss.

It's…God.

Kissing Steve is everything he's ever wanted. He tastes like peppermint, like the candy canes Dustin had brought Steve as a thank you for the ride to the dance, and Eddie can't help but wonder if the little shit had done so with this in mind?

No, nope. Definitely not thinking about that right now.

He tugs his mind away from the thought and opens his lips more to brush against Steve's with purpose, pulling a sweet moan from the other as he nips at his bottom lip.

He pulls back begrudgingly after another moment, relishing the heat, the softness of Steve pressed against him. They're still standing in the middle of the ravine just a few steps from the middle school and it would probably be best to continue this sort of thing in private.

Eddie shifts away just enough to run the tip of his nose down Steve's own, his heart fit to burst at the soft sigh Steve releases at the touch. His eyes are closed, but from the new blush that has spread from Steve's cheeks, to his ears and all the way down his neck, as well as the soft grin that pulls at his lips, Eddie can tell the feeling is mutual.

Eddie wonders just how many different shades of pink he could make Steve turn?

A thought for another day, Eddie thinks with a mischievous smirk, brushing his thumb along the crest of Steve's cheek.

"We should probably get back sweetheart," Eddie murmurs as he reluctantly removes his hands from Steve's face, "I can think of somewhere warmer we can go to talk".

Steve nods with a snort, knocking his shoulder into Eddie, "talk huh?"

"Is that not what the kids call it these days?"

Eddie drapes his arm around Steve's neck, tugging the other man closer. He comes all too willingly with a pleased grin stretched across his face.

"Besides," Eddie hums as they begin to make their way back the way they came, "my Uncle Wayne's been asking about when he can meet you --well after he weaseled it out of me, what was making me mope so much these last few weeks, he's already making Thanksgiving plans--"

They jerk to a halt, half slipping in the leaves and snow, he turns to Steve to meet his wide fearful eyes.

"You--your uncle knows, about me, about you?" Steve asks, the words stopping and starting as he speaks.

Eddie reaches out only for Steve to take a step back into the trees, "why would you tell him--"

"He doesn't know about you specifically, Steve, I would never do that," Eddie insists, he keeps his voice level now with how close they are to the school again, he can hear the sounds of teens yelling and laughing in the short distance.

"Okay, but he, he doesn't care about…"

Steve trails off, his teeth closing down on his bottom lip and though chewing on what he wants to ask.

Your uncle doesn't care about you being gay, being different?

Eddie sighs, resisting the urge to lift his hands and press his fingers into his eyes, "Uncle Wayne took me in a few years ago when my parents kicked me out for that so, no, it's pretty safe to say he doesn't".

"Oh," Steve says faintly. His arms come up around his chest as he begins to hunch in on himself yet again.

Well shit.

Now, Eddie isn't a hundred percent certain, but based on things that Steve has said, the warning that Nancy gave him, and what happened at the hospital, he knows that the Harrington house hasn't been the happy home he had assumed it to be.

And now, given the stricken look on Steve's face and the pinch in his gut, the doubts are fading even further away.

Eddie takes a deep breath, stepping onto the tightrope between them, he'll have to be careful about how he plays this, or Steve could bolt again. He's seen Steve run track at school, he knows the other man could easily outrun him.

Best not to give him a reason to.

"You know, not all parents, um, deserve to be parents sweetheart," Eddie says slowly, carefully, watching Steve's face as he speaks, "especially if they're never around".

He feels the rope between them wobble as he takes a step closer, holding out his hand.

"Especially if they don't love us for who we are Stevie," Eddie whispers, watching as Steve looks away sharply, his shoulders tense.

Eddie takes another deep breath before taking the leap, hoping that his feet will meet the ground beneath them.

"Wayne isn't like that, he's safe, and he wants to meet the person I've been mooning over for weeks now, if you're up for it".

Steve swallows once, twice, his jaw moves as though grinding what he wants to say between his teeth, his nose begins to redden as his eyes grow damp at the edges.

"Yeah," he manages to choke out, his voice cracks down the center as he draws one hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, "maybe not, right, right now but --fuck, I'm sorry, I don't know why this keeps happening".

Eddie takes the last step and pulls Steve into his arms again; he stiffens at first before finally relaxing, almost boneless, against Eddie's chest. He feels Steve release a long hitching breath and squeezes him gently, rubbing his cheek against the slight stubble on Steve's own.

"Probably because it's been a really hard couple of weeks sweetheart," Eddie pulls back enough to look into Steve's eyes, they're red rimmed now and his lashes have begun to clump together, but even like this Steve still looks beautiful.

"Yeah," Steve says, he sniffs, wincing at the sound of his stuffy nose, "I think I could use a proper…talk, and a rest, if you're still up for it?"

Eddie feels a smile pulling at his lips as incandescent happiness glows in his chest. He pulls Steve closer once more, relishing the feeling of being able to hold Steve again, without the scent of blood and terror in the air.

"Lead the way then sweetheart," Eddie says softly, knowing he'll follow Steve wherever he goes. There's a lot more for them to talk about, but for now, he'll be there for Steve as his person, for as long as he can.

Forever if he can swing it.

Tag List:

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@lizzicleromance @fairy-princette @eddiethehunted

And a few people I think may be intersted!

@steddierthings @steddie-there @stevesbipanic @henderdads @bramble-berries @flowercrowngods

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jtl-fics · 1 year

Text

Fluent Freshman - Part 15

The thing is… FF is aware that he should probably be medicated. You might be saying well isn’t he taking his ulcer medication? The answer is yes he is and when he is getting close to missing a dose Nicky’s usually the one that texts him with six frowny face emojis asking if he took his meds (they have a system, he takes his meds and then he texts Nicky)

No, he knows that he should probably get on something for his anxiety. Betsy has offered to get started on getting him on the right cocktail, his grandma thinks it’s a good idea, and Nicky has offered to get him as much weed as he needs to chill out, he knows a guy. Andrew is probably only going to stab him and threaten him not actually hunt him for sport, in his moments of clarity he can accept and understand that.

But there is nothing in this world that he wants less than to get back on anxiety medication. The world had been grey, it muted everything in the world for him, he faded completely into the background of his own life, and he couldn’t even grieve-

He was almost thankful for his step-dad’s sudden arrival in his life and how quickly his mom forgot about him to spend every waking moment she could on him and his children and then their children. It was two years of nothing and then his mom stopped picking up and refilling his prescription because it was too much of a hassle to keep picking up every month.

“He’s not anxious, see he’s fine. He doesn’t need it anymore.”

The withdrawal and the emotions that came afterwards had been hellish. He’d collapsed into his Grandma’s arms and begged her not to call his mom. He spent an entire month of summer vacation feeling like he was going to die and when he got back he found that no one had even missed him.

He swallowed the hurt, all of his emotions felt so much stronger now that he’d lost them for two years. If he has reactions like he’d had before he knows his mom will put him back on the medication.

The town is small and everyone talks. He knows about the dog walker’s poop flinging scandal, he knows about how the butcher’s left pinky got put back on wrong when he’d cut it off, he knows that the kid down the street paid $40 for a bag of oregano that he thought was weed, he knows that lil susie is in counseling because a girl should probably not be establishing cult rituals around her barbies.

He can’t react, can’t let people know he’s dying from anxiety because his math teacher sighs when he hands over his test. Can’t let anyone know that he has to put his head between his legs and take deep breaths before he can go into the cafeteria. His only solace is that all of the foreign language teachers love him, it’s easier to accept a compliment or comment in a language his family doesn’t use.

His step family treat him like the guards outside of Buckingham. Anything for a reaction y’know? He tells himself he does not care and for the most part he doesn’t.

He signs up for Exy in middle school because he just wanted something to do and it was the sport that had the same meeting days as his grandma’s bowling league. She picks him up from practice and they get ice cream together afterwards, she’s the only thing he has since Great Gran passed not too long after he got free of the medication.

He still feels her fingers checking behind his ears on occasion, a joke now that he’s off his meds referencing when he was too zoned out to care about hygiene. He still remembers her looking at him and feeling like she was seeing more than just him, “You’re a Smith. The last one when me and my daughter go. We’ll all be with you whenever you need us.” She promises.

He thinks it’s just respectful to get her favorite scent when he needs her help. He was raised to be respectful. Lavender still makes him think of her and he hopes his grandma left some on her grave recently.

He knew he’d have to wait to go to college. His mom is putting on the pressure now that he’s 18 saying he will have to pay rent even though Greg is older and definitely isn’t. He plays Exy and thinks about how he’ll handle his life between 18 and 25, he puts all his anxiety into the game and maybe the coach notices something.

He must have noticed something.

The Foxes don’t offer positions to kids who don’t have something going wrong for them.

Coach Wymack and Dan Wilds wouldn’t be there in his little bum fuck nowhere town in Washington if his coach hadn’t sent a tape and an explanation.

He could admit that he knew about the Foxes. He looked up to the vice captain a fair bit not just for his game but also…well the Butcher was national news. Vice Captain Neil’s story was all over the news and maybe he was just a little bit in awe of someone who could stand his ground after all of that. Watching Vice Captain Neil Josten give shit to every last reporter who gave him any shit? Inspiring.

He just didn’t think it’d be a good fit for him.

He’s not like the rest of the Foxes. Dan talks about them all in broad terms, how they’re all fighting to become something and grow beyond the unfairness that was out of their control. FF is tough to convince but he’s a pretty good defensive dealer, Dan and Coach Wymack both want him.

Dan eventually has to go because she has an interview for a coaching position out this way but Coach Wymack just hands over the rental car keys and Coach Wymack stays.

Coach Wymack stays and they keep talking. FF talks about everything and Wymack eventually just says “Well, you’re still here despite all of that aren’t you? Sounds like a fighter to me. I think you’ve got what it takes to carry that weight with some help and I can promise that you won’t have to deal with those jerks past your high school graduation. You’re not going to be the first Fox who I help out from under some asshole parents and you won’t be the last.”

So he signs a contract, he’s 18 he can do that AND buy cigarettes now (he won’t. That’s how Gran lost gramps when dad was still young but he COULD. Much like he COULD go into the town’s only sex toy shop but that would be back to his grandma faster than the cigarette purchase to be honest and he isn’t THAT interested in what’s in there.)

He finishes up school but the assistant coach is a friend of his step dad and mentions that he’s signed to the Foxes. It’s just one week between his graduation and when Coach Wymack is coming to grab him

Suddenly he exists in his house for the first time since they all moved into it after the wedding and it’s the WORST. The want things, they want promises, they want assurances, they want to pretend and act like he’s always been there.

He flees to his Grandma’s house and texts Coach Wymack asking if there’s ANY chance he can get picked up early because he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to talk if he calls the man.

Coach Wymack comes for him and shoulders him past his ‘family’ to the rental car but the panic attack he sees in the car ride to the airport when his family’s car follows them all the way to the rental drop off means that he HAS to see Betsy.

Betsy is nice. Betsy teaches him how to breathe through stuff. Betsy teaches him how to ground himself in reality. Betsy tells him that the Starbucks girl probably doesn’t hate him. Betsy suggests he get on some medication.

He said No.

He’s scared out of his MIND in Palmetto but it’s better than-

He prefers to feel things.

Betsy tells him that it shouldn’t have been like that. His mother should have taken him back and gotten his prescription adjusted until it wasn’t like that.

He still declines.

Andrew gets suspicious about him knowing Russian after that game of Never Have I Ever and Nicky keeps almost letting it spill right by him. His stomach hurts the CVS girl keeps pepto for him behind the counter.

He still declines.

He prefers to feel things.

You can’t enjoy the thrill of a 100% on a Kanji Basics midterms without the anxiety of the Oral presentation. You can’t feel the true satisfaction of getting a blender for 25% off + 50 dollars of in-store credit without the flop-sweat of the searching eyes of a woman wearing PINK branded lounge wear. You can’t keep friends if you have no ability to empathize with them even if you’re worried you’re annoying them or ‘humble bragging’.

Fear is better.

Betsy tells him if he’s ever ready then she will help him. His Gran tells him she loves him. Nicky says “Look there’s a strain called White Russian. That’d be funny right?!”and FF agrees but declines to sample it.

Right now, as Nicky smudges eyeliner under his eyes and tugs at his shirt for the 80th time, he thinks it might actually be better to feel nothing.

He’d woken up from his…nap? He might have fainted actually? But he did it on a bed and it lasted for like 4 hours? So does that count as a nap? He wants to ask but also doesn’t want to worry anyone, maybe he could ask Aaron that if a Friend faints and doesn’t wake up for four hours is that a nap or a medical emergency? Just curious.

When he had emerged from Nicky’s room Captain Neil and Andrew had herded them all into the Maserati and they’d gone out and gotten McDonald’s for a late lunch. The only comment he had gotten when he’d asked for a happy meal (his stomach could not handle anything more) was whether or not he wanted the toy.

“Yes.” He answered panicked at the sudden question.

He got his Megamind toy, accidentally shone it into Aaron’s eyes when he pushed a button. “Shit that’s bright” before he apologized and shoved it in his jacket pocket.

They hung out at the house for the rest of the day.

They watched movies, played Mario Kart (how is Captain Neil this bad when his reflexes on the court are so good?) and did some homework. Andrew seemed to actually like the brownies which is why FF probably woke up from his... still haven’t asked Aaron if it’s a nap or a medical emergency.

He has a square and even at room temperature they taste great.

When it started to get dark they all went to go get ready. FF had gone to get whatever clothes Nicky had prepared on but had found himself sat on the man’s bed (so much glitter, seriously how can one bed have so much of it?) and Nicky holding a pencil to his eye and telling HIM not to flinch.

“Gonna have all the….” Nicky pauses and adopts a look on his face that means that he’s thinking incredibly hard about something. “Wait how have we been friends for MONTHS and I have no idea how you swing?” FF is caught off guard for a few moments because it’s the first time that Nicky has verbally confirmed that they are, in fact, friends and…

Wow.

That’s so nice.

He thought it was just Nicky’s innate inability to leave something to suffer needlessly that had the upperclassmen helping him. (FF has watched Nicky go out of his way to give cats food, turn turtles back onto their stomachs, and walk into traffic to stop cars so that a duck family could make it to a pond. He just sort of figured he was the same level of pathetic)

Wait.

What.

“Wait, what?”

“How do you swing?” Nicky repeats.

FF knows what he means but doesn’t want to. “With my left hand.” He responds and hopes Nicky drops it because the long and short answer is: he doesn’t know. He has no idea.

“Ohh dirty!” Nicky makes a jacking off motion with his left hand and FF feels embarrassed sweat cover his body, “NO! Don’t ruin my work!” Nicky yells fanning him with his hands so the eyeliner doesn’t run. “You know what I mean Smithy. Swing for girls, boys, both, neither? What am I working with here?” He asks wiping at FF’s cheek.

“I don’t…know.” He admits because deflecting is OBVIOUSLY not his strong suit. Twice in a row it’s brought up weird sex stuff.

“C’mon don’t be embarrassed. Even if you’re straight you’re obviously an Ally.” Nicky smiles.

“No it’s not…” he flushes okay he is embarrassed but that’s because he REALLY doesn’t know. Like how the hell did he get to college and have ZERO idea about what he’s attracted to or if he’s just not attracted to anyone? He’d been focused on not screaming for the last decade and that hadn’t really left a lot of room to consider how anyone looked. He’s getting used to having friends and three whole group chats (he’s bad at responding to them, overwhelmed by the idea that whatever he says can be revisited and picked apart forever but still, THREE!)

“I really have no idea.” He repeats.

Nicky blinks at him. “Okay well, college can be all about figuring that out then! No worries my sweet boy, we will figure this out.” Nicky pats his cheek.

He feels a little better.

“Alright, let’s go to Eden’s!”

Oh fuck that’s right.

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

Per your requests:

@i-have-three-feelings @blep-23 @dreamerking27 @andreilsmyreligion @belodensetdust @rainbowpineapplebottle @yarn-ace @iwouldlikesometea @lily-s-world @obscureshipsandchips @booklover242 @whataboutmyfries @sahturnos @pluto-pepsi @dreamerthinker @passinhosdetartaruga @leftunknownheart @aro-manita-muscaria @hologramsaredead @Chaoticgremlinswishtheycouldbeme @tntwme @tayspots @nick-scar @crazy-fangirl2524 @blue-jos10 @stabbyfoxandrew @splishsplashyouropinionistrash @sammichly @the-broken-pen @bitchesdoweknowu @very-small-flower @ghostlyboiii @its-a-paxycab @bisexual-genderfluid-fan @cheesecookie @theoneandonlylostsock @foxsoulcourt @blueleys @adverbialstarlight @elia-nna @can-i-just-stay-in-the-corner @nikodiangel @foxandcrow-inatrenchcoat @hallucinatedjosten @satanic-foxhole-court @vexingcosmos @chalilodimun @insectsgetcooked @angry-kid-with-no-money @queer-crows @lilyndra @themugglemudperson @readertodeath @apileofpillows @mortalsbowbeforeme @hellomynameismoo @next-level-mess @youreonlylow @interstellarfig @notprocrastinatingatalltoday @percyjacksonfan3 @queenofcrazy27 @bsmr261 @ghostlyscares @spencellio @adinthedarkroom @harpymoth @sufferingjustalilbit @anxietymoss @oddgreyhound

The requests to be added to the tag list got spread out across a few different mediums on this one so if I missed you then just ask in the replies!

As stated before if you’re up here and I spelled it right but you didn’t get a notification there might be something switched around in your settings that won’t let me tag you properly?

#Fluent Freshman AU #Turns out I couldn't wait to write about Dan and Wymack coming out to recruit FF #So I used them as a means to talk about some other shit #And transition back to Thanksgiving Break #In the end no matter how silly he is #FF is a Fox #He's a Fox with all that implies #I'll touch more on his full past later but here's a lil taste #A lil angst as a TREAT #After all the sugar you need some bitterness #Could he really be a blorbo without it?#FF in the car on the way to Sweetie's: Hey so like random question here Aaron but what's the turn around time on fainting?#Aaron: the turn around time?#FF: Yeah like how long does it usually take for someone to wake up after they faint?#Aaron: Like 20 seconds #FF: So like four hours is abnormal #Aaron: 20 minutes is abnormal. Four hours is a medical emergency. WHY?#FF: Asking for a friend.#Aaron: That friend should be in the hospital #FF: Oh he probably will be later #I don't know if I'm gonna write them actually hanging out at Sweeties in their club outfits #I think the implied OH GOD I'M NOT DRESSED RIGHT that FF would feel is so obvious #But hey time to see who reads the tags #What flavor do you think FF would get for ice cream?#AFTG #AFTG OC #AFTG AU #AFTG Fic #FF - Pt. 15

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varpusvaras · 2 months

Text

Sateen and Sheltay are the first ones to notice.

Of course they are. They have to watch Bail constantly sigh wistfully every time the Commander comes up on conversation even in passing, or watch him try to not be too eager every time he is inviting the Commander over for a cup of caf. Her Majesty is not any better, according to Visaiya, and the three of them quickly for a habit of reporting just how bad the Senator and the Queen are pining this week.

It doesn't take them long to notice how the Commander increasingly accepts every single invite for anything Bail just happens to give him, and it takes even less time for the Commander to become Fox and for Fox to become very permanent fixture in all of their lives. The rest of the Guard follows suit, of course, but Fox is the one who has his own designated cup in the office and who both Bail and Her Majesty are constantly fawning about.

Then Sateen walks in one day in the middle of Bail and Fox making out in the office, and that's the day Fox becomes the boyfriend of their employers.

It takes only a few months for Bail and Her Majesty to start talking about weddings and living situations and everything of that sort. Sateen is not the one who let's it slip. Neither is Sheltay. In all honestly, Sateen just thinks that the three of them are way too obvious, as, two weeks after the first time Sateen had heard the word marriage come out of Bail's mouth, the entire Royal Guard had somehow gotten the memo.

Sateen hears them whisper about it constantly. They all seem very excited about it, and the only thing Sateen can do is to wish Fox luck in his mind.

---

It's very hard for Fox to not notice how every time he goes anywhere publicly, there always seems to be a member of the Royal Guard there.

Fox doesn't mind them, not at all. They never try to interfere with his work, quite opposite.

He is walking down the hallway of the Senate Building one afternoon, his hands uncomfortably full and his mind definitely fuming a bit. He was the Commander of the Guard, a highly trained soldier, not some secretary-

There's a door that needs to be pressed open. Before Fox can even begin the task of balancing all of the datapads and flimsies on his other arm so he can get his other arm free, there are hurrying steps coming towards him, and someone speeds past him.

A Royal Guard slams his hand on the door panel, and it slides open.

"Good afternoon, Commander", the Guard smiles at Fox, breathing just a little heavily. "After you, please."

Fox is...not really sure about what is going on.

"Thank you", is the only thing he can come up with at that moment. The Guard smiles a bit wider and bows his head down a bit as Fox walks past him.

"Can I help you with those?" He asks, and Fox, definitely not knowing what is going on anymore or how he should react to anything, let's him take almost all of the datapads from his arms. The Guard seems weirdly happy to do so, and he cheerily bids Fox farewell as Fox reaches the doors to the Chancellor's office.

He needs to talk about this with Bail the next time he sees him, Fox decides.

---

Fox hates mornings.

He used to bee good with them, but that was before his hours of sleep had decreased to four on average. So now Fox is not good with them anymore and he hates them.

He is still on time, on his way to oversee way too many security points for the mornings meetings and other visits, and he definitely isn't only half awake under his helmet. His average of four hours of sleep is after all, an average, so the last night had been a night that had brought the average down. Fox really wants to just get into the elevator and doze off for a moment longer.

The elevator is broken. So is the next one. And the next. And the next.

Fox stares at them. Stares at the stairs to the left. Stares at the elevators again.

He could take the elevators on the next hall over...does he have clearance to use those? He's not sure. He should, most likely, but even more likely he doesn't.

Fox stares at the elevators. At the stairs. There are a lot of stairs.

Then there are two Royal Guards, making their way towards him.

"Good morning, Commander!" They both greet him. Fox hopes that his own greeting of "morning" sounded awake enough.

"Do you need to go to the upper floors?" One of them asks him. Fox thinks he has seen him before. "All the elevators here are out of order, but you can take the ones next halls with us!"

"Thank you", Fox manages to say, because he is still not completely awake and he is confused again about the cheerfulness of the Guards in front of him.

He follows them to the elevators, feeling a bit like he is the one being guarded on his way, with one of them walking next to him and the other two steps ahead. They open the elevator doors, let Fox get in first, and then stand in front of the doors the whole way up. One of them steps out first, like he is checking the perimeter, and then the other lets Fox step out before him.

"Have a good rest of your day!" They say as Fox leaves them to go do his work.

---

Almost three hours later Fox walks back the same way, and the Guards are there, now with a travel cup of warm caf.

"Here, Commander", the one with the cup says, and gives it to Fox. "Do you need to go down?"

Fox nods, and says thank you again, because what else is he supposed to say?

He stands at the back of the elevator again on the way down. Neither of the Guards say anything when Fox lifts his helmet and takes a sip of the caf. It's a good blend, and it's very, very sweet, just like Fox likes it.

They walk him out of the elevator. Thire is there, with a squad of Guards, ready to move out to the next location. None of them say anything about the cup in Fox's hand as he gives them the orders and climbs into a speeder with them.

"Are you more awake now?" Thire asks him as they get on their way. He's smirking behind his helmet, Fox can hear it in his voice.

Fox lifts his own helmet again, and takes another drink.

"Now I am", he says, ignoring the quiet laughter coming from Thire.

---

Nights on Corucant can be surprisingly cold.

Fox doesn't get it. The weather is already controlled, and there are no large ecosystems left that would benefit from having the air temperature lowered this much. But, it is what it is, and now Fox is cold.

He is also tired. Again. This time because it is very much closer to midnight now, which means he has been awake...almost a whole day. If he doesn't count the ten-minute naps he managed to take every now and then.

He should be calling for someone to come pick him up. It's not safe for a clone to be alone on Coruscant, even if they are a Commander. Fox lifts his arm, ready to open his comlink and get himself a lift-

-when there is a speeder stopping in front of him, and a Royal Guard jumps out.

"Good evening, Commander!" He greets Fox, even tough it's definitely not evening anymore. "Can we take you back to the base?"

Fox is tired, he is cold, and there is a speeder ready for him.

He's not stupid. He nods.

"Thank you", he says. The Guard opens the door for him and lets Fox climb in first, and Fox swears that he bows his head down a little as well as Fox walks past him.

The speeder is warm, a lot warmer than Fox thinks they usually are, like the heating has been put on full just before he got in. The flight to the base is relatively a short one, and once again, the door is opened for him.

"Have a good night, Commander!" The Guard says, and yes, he is bowing his head down ever so slightly. "We'll see you tomorrow at the Senate!"

"You too", Fox says. The speeder doesn't leave until he has walked through the base doors.

---

It's been a moment since Fox was back on Coruscant.

Bail doesn't really like Fox coming to visit him there. It's not that he doesn't want to see Fox, but Coruscant was all that Fox knew for the entire war, and they both know how Coruscant can be at it's worst. Bail's protective streak is definitely rivaling Fox's own, and Fox can't really fault him for it.

There is a speeder ready for him, waiting just outside the landing platform.

The Royal Guard waiting next to the speeder smiles at Fox.

"Good afternoon, Your Highness", he greets him. "To the Senate?"

Fox smiles back.

"Good afternoon", he greets, and nods. "Yes, thank you. You got me anything good today?"

"A lot of things", The Guard laughs a little as he says it, and he opens the speeder door. "I heard Amedda got into a little...accident, lately, so to say."

Fox grins.

"That's definitely something I need to hear about more", he says, and steps into the speeder.

#who remembers the post I made about the royal guard zeroing in to the fact that Fox was going to be their future prince?#here is something about that lmao #I've written so many more angsty snippets lately I needed to do one for no order 66 au as well #here he is happily gossiping with a good nights sleep under him #good for him good for him #sw #tcw #my writing #snippets #no order 66 au #up that mountain #commander fox #bail/breha/fox #Star Writing

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bonefall · 8 months

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Have you thought about how Squirrelflght's second and final trial would go? (Or her nine lives ceremony, assuming she doesn't die for Bramble's manpain before receiving them.) I like to think after Ashfur's circus, perhaps even her detractors would be at least a little more sympathetic to her.

I absolutely cannot imagine it going any other way than 100% well. I don't even think she'll need a Trial the second time around. After all the shit that happens in BB!TBC??

Recognizing the impostor, definitely being among the first people to know for sure

Joining and aiding the rebellion, if not being one of its primary leaders

Taking over ThunderClan as soon as she's able (with the very frustrating Lionblaze Coup ripped out)

STILL being against the idea of killing the impostor, to try and save as many people as possible, not knowing what's going on

Getting dragged in and then escaping, her first thought being "I need to get help and go back"

Even after all Bramblestar has ever done to her, decreeing that warriors NEVER leave another cat behind

Will definitely be one of the reasons why the Sisters come in to help send so many cats in. Right there is a practical reason for her enemies to acknowledge the value of Fire Alone (though she would be frustrated they even needed A REASON when it was always the right thing to do)

And, most importantly, Ashfur fucking ate Skystar. A 'circus' is putting it nicely, Ashfur just destroyed a big part of the afterlife (the Meadow of Young Stars) and one of Squilf's biggest detractors was murdered by another one.

She looks SO correct right now, you would look stupid for even trying to say "well let's put her on trial. again. after the last one went soo well."

#im going to be so fucking mad if we don't get Squilfstar #get the fuck out of my way erins ill write that leader ceremony myself #she needs it so bad #Give me Godking Squilf for the love of god #I LOVE watching night cry about it he's my little boodle boy and i need to see him screaming crying throwing up #firekin family MY BELOVED #better bones au #She has SO much history at this point and I can't wait to see her get in here and fuck shit up #BB!TBC

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valiantstarlights · 11 months

Text

[Personal Trainer!Dream AU] Chapter 2: (Much Ado About) Gym Clothes

Chapter 1: First Meeting

This is still for @sadrumihours , who shared Tom Sturridge's highly educational 😏 training videos (part one & part two), as well as everyone who yelled in the comments and reblog tags. I see you all and I love each and every one of you. 🖤

Disclaimer: These are once again just vibes because I still don't know a single thing about gym stuff. Will someone please tell me what the equipment Tom is using called? Because I'm still calling it stretchy jump rope machine in my head. 😭

CW (and summary): Dream being his usual thirsty-for-Hob self, Hob being insecure about his body, and Johanna trying to be a supportive sister to Hob. (Keyword being: 'trying.') This chapter contains spicy spice! Enjoy? 😏

Mojo Jojo

Jo, what do I wear to the gym???

uh, gym clothes?

(You sent a photo.)

Is this okay??

i guess?

why are you being weird?

you're just going to the gym, not going on a date

WAIT, ARE YOU???

HOBERT

answer me or i'm gonna come over and steal all your teeth

I bought pizza since I know you're coming over from your shoot anyway

fine

you can keep both your secrets and your teeth for one more day

"That's it, Professor," Mr. Endless--Dream, says next to his ear, low and inviting. His hands are cool as they caress Hob's overheated and very sensitive inner thighs, and his eyes, so dark and so close to Hob's own, are laser-focused on his panting, straining face. "One more. Just one more for me."

Hob's cheeks are already streaked with tears. How many hours has it been? How much more until they're done? Until he's told that he's been good? "Mr. Endless, please--"

Dream has moved to inspect his position. He adjusts Hob's legs so they spread even wider. The change in angle makes him sob, but Dream shushes him and he leans all the way down to lick at his rim.

Hob wails, body jolting against the restraints. His muscles are already so sore, but he wants to be good.

"You can do it, Professor," Dream says, lightly tapping at his taint to encourage his muscles to clench. "This is the last one."

Hob cries and wiggles, breathes slowly and purposefully like how he has been taught, and forcibly relaxes his muscles one by one, until finally, finally, he manages to push out the last large anal egg from his body with a soft moan.

It plops wetly onto Dream's waiting hand, and the man hums approvingly as Hob's hole gapes for a second before winking closed again.

"Very good," Dream purrs against his rim and dips his tongue into Hob's loosened hole. Hob keens and thrashes against his bonds again. It was so humiliating, but he loves every second of it. He can feel his body slowly becoming stronger, and he owes it all to Dream.

"You see what you can do?" Dream asks, now inserting his long, clever fingers inside him. "What your body can achieve with my guidance?" He moves his fingers in and out slowly, the squelch of the remaining lube loud in the room. "I'm so proud of you, Professor. Only a few sessions in and you're already my beautiful, obedient little slut." He emphasizes his words by drilling his fingers unerringly against Hob's prostate. Hob cries and bucks up, helpless and overwhelmed, unable to do anything else with how good he had been tied up.

"Please, Mr. Endless--"

"Mr. Endless?" Dream repeats. "You have to be specific, Professor Gadling. Are you calling for my brother?"

Hob shakes his head wildly. "No. No, please. I mean you. Just you, sir, no one else. You know that."

Dream rewards him with a soft kiss against the head of his cock. "And what's my name, Professor?" he asks. "What's the name that you'll be screaming in ecstasy for the rest of your life?"

"D-Dream," Hob gasps. "Dream--"

"Good boy," Dream says, and returns to his hole to suck hickeys around the rim. Hob hopes he bruises well. He hopes he'll feel all the love bites Dream gives him every time he sits down. "Shall I give you your reward now?"

Hob remembers last time, when his reward was Dream spanking his hole directly until it was red and puffy, and then fucking him that way, all the while praising him for being so virgin tight.

"Yes, please," Hob says, voice cracking a little. He wants to move. He wants to wrap his arms around Dream and kiss him softly while they fuck. He wants to be called sweet and good and mine.

But in the end, Dream is still his trainer, and he knows Hob's body best. He knows Hob's body better than Hob himself, now. And if he tells Hob he has to wear a vibrating plug while he uses the stationary bike, then he will.

He'll cry and stumble and cum in his underwear countless times, and Dream will coo and kiss his tears away, but he'll do it. Has done it. It had increased his stamina exponentially.

"Very well," Dream says. He leans over Hob so they could share a kiss while he lines his cock up against Hob's waiting hole. "You have been so good for me today, and I think that means you deserve a treat, yes?"

Hob nods, biting his lip at the incredible pressure as the head of Dream's large cock pushes against his rim--

Hob's alarm blares at max volume, and he jolts awake, blindly reaching for his phone to turn it off.

It takes him a few seconds, and once that's done, he's awake enough to notice the sticky feeling in his underwear. He moves the covers aside and peeks inside his boxers.

...Great. Not only did he have an incredibly realistic wet dream (ha) starring his personal trainer, but he's also currently sporting a semi.

Thank goodness he set his alarm hours before he has to go to the gym. He still has time to do some...preliminary stretching.

He blushes as he grabs his favorite dildo, which he had placed conveniently beside his pillow last night, as well as the bottle of lube beside it.

He's already ashamed of himself for thinking about Mr. Endless in such a manner, but try as he might, he can't conjure up the image of another person. Not since he met him.

Oh, he tried thinking about previous people he had a crush on, real and fictional, as well as local and international celebrities: actors and idols and athletes--to no avail. They always turn into Dream Endless in the end, looking down at him as they fuck in a variety of positions, usually missionary because Hob is a dumb romantic at heart, his gorgeous blue eyes loving and captivated, his lips forming 'Professor Gadling' or 'Hob' over and over again, his voice soft with awe and reverence.

It never fails to bring Hob to completion faster than he ever had before, when he had yet to be blessed about the knowledge of Dream Endless's existence. It was mortifying. His imagined scenarios always leave him whining and pressing his face against his pillow so he doesn't scream Mr. Endless's name out loud for the entire neighborhood to hear.

He knows it's pathetic, because it's not like Mr. Endless is going to look at him that way in real life. But if he's sad about it, crying a little like a lovesick fool after he cums, then that's his business and no one ever needs to know.

Boss Dream's newest trainee walks in the gym dressed in a thick hoodie and joggers, and Matthew starts sweating bullets just by looking at him. Is he going snowboarding with Boss Dream or something?

Nope. None of his business. Better just focus on getting the damn blender working.

"Good morning, Mr. Endless!" Professor Gadling says cheerfully as he rounds the corner to where Dream is waiting. "I hope it's alright that I'm a bit early today. I had to make up for last time."

He's an entire 15 minutes early, but Dream won't say no to spending more time with him. He had been reviewing today's agenda, but had turned around as soon as he heard Professor Gadling's voice. And he was just about to greet him back, when his eyes lift from the clipboard he's holding, and the smile falters in his face as he takes in what the man is wearing.

Dream had indicated in his email that they were going to do some mandatory stretches, and after that proceed to doing a full-body pre-test workout that would measure the professor's strength, endurance level, general dexterity, etc. It was important that they do this on the first session so that Dream could come up with a program specifically tailored for him and his end goal.

It was his mistake in assuming that Professor Gadling would do the sensible thing and wear something light. Not winter clothes in the middle of summer.

"Good morning, Professor Gadling," he says, as neutrally as he can manage. "You are dressed quite warmly."

Professor Gadling grimaces. "Oh. Well um, I'm afraid I don't really have gym clothes, and I haven't had the chance to buy some yet since, you know, school. And everything else I own are dress shirts and slacks and lounge wear. But don't worry! I'll go shopping this weekend." He pauses and smiles bashfully. It was just as devastating as Dream remembered. "Sorry. I'm talking too much again."

Meanwhile, Dream's mind had latched on to the words 'lounge wear,' and he imagines Professor Gadling casually walking around his house in nothing but short pajama bottoms.

"I see," he says, glad that he took the time this morning to get himself off so he won't be as tempted to push Professor Gadling against the nearest surface and really give him a full body workout. "Then please, if at any point you wish to take off a layer, feel free to do so."

"Oh, no," Professor Gadling says, still cheerfully. "I'm fine like this. Shall we begin?"

There's still a few minutes before they officially have to start, but Professor Gadling seems to want to begin immediately, so Dream nods and instructs him to stand with his feet shoulder width apart, and gets him to start stretching his upper body.

Professor Gadling obeys, following Dream's example as he demonstrates the set, counting to eight, then back to one again under his breath, before doing the next set without complaint.

Dream watches him closely, because he has to. It's why he notices that the professor's thick hoodie barely shifts, even as the man raises his hands upwards towards the ceiling and counts to 16.

A dark thought crosses Dream's mind then, that perhaps the reason Professor Gadling is wearing clothes that cover his entire body is because he's currently covered in love bites.

Dream clenches his teeth but breathes through it. He knows he's being possessive when he has no right to be, and that Professor Gadling has every right to sleep with whoever he wants.

But knowing these facts and acknowledging them to be logical and true does not stop Dream from hating whoever it was that is currently enjoying Professor Gadling's gorgeous body in bed, perhaps repeatedly throughout the night.

He wants to be that person. He will be that person. He is already fated to be that person.

If his brother Destiny is right about one thing, Dream fucking hopes that it's the power of manifestation, because he doesn't think he would just allow Professor Gadling to end up with someone else without challenging that person to a fight.

Mr. Endless is wearing a tight, sleeveless black shirt and slightly baggy joggers, and Hob is losing his mind. Has lost his mind as soon as he spotted the man a couple of minutes ago, standing by the large glass windows and reading something on his clipboard.

The sight of his toned arms are bad for Hob's concentration. And it's even worse when he circles Hob like a very observant vulture to check his position (just like in his dream) and bids him to raise his arms higher, or at one point, bend a little more to the right.

Hob can't bend as much as he used to in his twenties, but he is very determined to be super flexible at the end of this.

For health reasons, of course.

Mr. Endless demonstrates another pose to stretch the arm muscles, and in doing so calls Hob's attention to how his muscles bunch and flex. Hob is sure that they're far stronger than they look, and he has no doubt that Mr. Endless can carry heavy grocery bags without breaking a sweat.

Hob gets so far as picturing Mr. Endless's hands squeezing his thighs before he immediately shuts the thought down.

No. Absolutely not. And his previous thought about being flexible, too. Mr. Endless would be horrified, if not outright disgusted if he finds out that Hob is thinking about him in that manner.

Professor Gadling continues to obediently follow his orders, getting on the treadmill, walking, jogging, then running, complying as soon as Dream warns him about changing the treadmill's speed, and he does so without a single word of complaint.

Dream could not help but compare him to his past trainees, all of whom had complained on their first session about wanting to go straight to the workouts that would help them achieve their ideal body shape. But not Professor Gadling. He would listen and watch Dream's demonstration well, then immediately obey his orders or mimick his movements. Dream has to bite his tongue multiple times so he wouldn't slip up and say, 'good boy.'

Or worse, 'my good boy.'

Death is going to have Destruction break his spine if, out of all siblings, a sexual harassment complaint would be filed against him and not, say, Desire, who regularly flirts with their own trainees.

Cardio pre-test finished, Dream leads Professor Gadling to the weightlifting area, and once there, bids him to take 2 dumbbells that weighs 1 kilogram each, and do 16 squats while holding the weights.

While Professor Gadling gets the appropriate equipment from the rack, Dream lets his mind wander. Would Professor Gadling be obedient in bed, too? Or would he be a brat? Will Dream have to tame him, or is he already sweet and docile?

Dream imagines that the latter to be more likely, though he wouldn't mind if his lovely professor turns out to be an incorrigible brat in bed. He'll just have to spank him until he's pliant and good enough to deserve his treats.

Fuck. He's teaching. He should be more professional than this.

"Like this, Mr. Endless?"

Dream snaps from his ill-timed daydreams to scrutinize Professor Gadling's form, only to then hold back a lustful groan.

The man is squatting alright, but he's doing so improperly. His heels should be flat against the floor, but instead his thighs and calves are touching, and he's so low that he's almost kneeling on the floor.

Dream has an errant thought that Professor Gadling is being seductive on purpose, except one look at his genuinely unsure expression proves Dream wrong.

Definitely sweet and docile in bed.

Dream wants to eat him alive.

Were this a porno, Dream would tell him that he's doing a terrific job, and if he could please thrust his chest out more so Dream could admire them better. But since he's an actual trainer with the thinnest veneer of professionalism left, he bids Professor Gadling to stand up and instructs him on how to squat properly.

Except, of course, his improved and now very proper form isn't making Dream feel any better, as Professor Gadling now had his ass thrust out instead of his chest, and has to repeat the motion 15 more times.

Dream gets his bottle of vitamin water and drinks deeply, hoping to cool himself down enough to banish his lecherous thoughts.

It doesn't work.

Hob sees from the corner of his eye Mr. Endless drink from his water bottle and immediately looks away. He's glad he's already red from exercising.

When Mr. Endless corrected his squat earlier, he did so by placing a hand gently against Hob's lower back to guide him, and Hob barely bit back a moan from how good a simple, innocent touch from him felt, even through his thick hoodie.

He feels like such a shameless pervert.

Once the assessment is (finally) over, Dream praises Professor Gadling for a job well done, valiantly ignores the shy, pleased look on the man's face, and instead goes on to tell him that he's doing okay overall, but needs more work in certain areas.

Dream does not specify which ones, telling him that he still needs to study the data and compile them together before emailing the whole thing to him.

In truth, Dream does not trust himself to look straight into Professor Gadling's lovely dark brown eyes and say words like 'stamina' and 'flexibility' without exposing the level of hunger he's currently feeling for him.

So yes. Dream will email him his pre-test results later, but he does not tell him that he will only do so after a good long wank.

Professor Gadling, totally unaware of his inner turmoil, only nods understandably, and agrees to read Dream's email as soon as his schedule allows him to. He must be sweating like crazy underneath his get-up, but his choice of clothes show no evidence of it.

Dream worries, and his mouth opens before he can stop it. "Professor Gadling," he says, just as the man had turned away to go to the nearby drinking fountains.

"Yes, Mr. Endless?"

Dream doesn't want to keep him any longer from the fountains than he has to. But next time, he's going to make sure to bring an extra bottle of vitamin water for him, so he could take a sip anytime without going all the way across the room and falling in line.

Dream is also going to be mature about not staring at his throat while he drinks. "When you go shopping for gym clothes, you may want to consider buying lighter fabrics."

"Oh, no, I'm absolutely fine with these," Professor Gadling says, and sounds sincere about it that Dream drops the subject.

"Very well," he says. He will not force him. Professor Gadling's comfort is paramount. If that means that Dream would have to adjust their lesson plans to include more water breaks, then that's what he'll do. "I shall see you next session."

He turns away before he could be tempted to watch Professor Gadling go. He does not think about the possibility that the hoodie might actually belong to Professor Gadling's boyfriend, who is probably waiting for him to get back home, and very eager to get him back in bed.

He has no right to be jealous.

Hob opens his gym bag and starts to take out his clean change of clothes when the texture of the shirt made him pause.

That's not the shirt he folded last night.

He takes the folded black shirt out, wonders at its suddenly lighter weight, then shakes it open to see if he had mistakenly folded another shirt.

As soon as the garment is revealed, however, he shoves it back in his bag, then shakes the accompanying bottom garment open. When that was revealed, he also shoves it back in the bag.

Then, slowly and mindfully, he breathes for a solid minute before he takes out his phone and texts his sister.

Mojo Jojo

Jo what the hell

what

(You sent a photo.)

Why are your gym clothes in my bag???

they're not mine stupid

i had ric buy them yesterday specifically for you

?????

for your ~mysterious~ gym crush to notice you (u///u)❤️

anyway don't worry and just wear them

they'll fit you

That's not the point!

A crop top and booty shorts???

you're right. the booty shorts are fine, but the crop top is too plain.

i should have told ric to pick the other one that says 'daddy's little fuck toy' 😂

JOHANNA CONSTANTINE-GADLING

pfft coward

i'm gonna tell ric to go back to the store and buy the fuck toy crop top

oops the director is shouting at me to get in place bye gtg

Hob is typing another scathing reply in all caps when he hears footsteps stop a short distance from him.

"Professor Gadling?"

Great. The last person in the world he wanted to see right at this very moment.

Hob smiles awkwardly and stows his phone back in his bag. "Mr. Endless."

"Is everything alright?"

Right. Shit. He hasn't even showered yet. He's probably stinking up the place and being a nuisance near the lockers.

"Everything's fine," Hob says, waving the man's concern away. "Just. Sisters being sisters. With their weird and very inappropriate sense of humor."

Someday, he'll learn how to shut his big mouth and stop at 'everything's fine.'

"I'm sure all sisters suffer from having a weird sense of humor," Mr. Endless says politely. "May I ask what your sister has done?"

Hob sighs deeply and zips his bag closed. It's fine. He'll just go shower at home. And anyway, it's not like he has to take the Tube and subject everyone to his sweaty self after a workout. Thank god he drove here. "Better not. If even I, as her brother, didn't find it funny, I very much doubt that you will."

"And yet you remain troubled," Mr. Endless says, and now his brows are furrowed in concern. "Please. I know this is not any of my business, but I would like to help you, if I can."

The fact that Mr. Endless looks very sincere makes Hob want to cry.

And he knows he shouldn't show him. He knows that Mr. Endless should be the last person in the world Hob should show these to. But he figures, what the hell. He could just quit via email as soon as he gets home and never have cause to see Mr. Endless or be seen in the vicinity of Endless Gym ever again.

Maybe it would even be for the best if he did that. Then he would stop having all these unsavory thoughts about him while the man is only trying to do his job.

He sighs and opens his bag once more, tilting it a little so Mr. Endless could see its contents. "My sister swapped my clean change of clothes for these."

Mr. Endless looks inside, and Hob can just see in his mind's eye what the other man saw: an extremely short, short-sleeved, solid black crop top with a deep V-neck that would barely cover Hob's chest area, and slutty black booty shorts with the phrase, 'SQUEEZE ME' printed on the butt area, complete with a cute yellow lemon emoji.

Although to be fair, 'crop top' is a generous term to use for the upper garment in the bag. It's too small and resembles a short-sleeved bra more than a crop top. From a single glance, Hob knows that even if it did fit him, it would be so tight that it would force his pecs to form a cleavage and leave his underboobs exposed.

He cringed internally at the image that would make, and could only imagine the utter revulsion Mr. Endless is feeling right now.

Dream had leaned over to inspect the contents of Professor Gadling's bag, expecting everything from a shark onesie to a clown suit.

Instead he sees further fuel for his already full folder of Professor Gadling-centric fantasies.

He could just imagine the crop top and the booty shorts on the man, and how he'd look like exercising while wearing them.

He had half a mind to ask for his sister's number so he could personally extend his gratitude to her, but doesn't dare to, in case Professor Gadling gets the wrong idea.

He inhales slowly and leans away, placing his hands neatly behind his back so Professor Gadling would not be in danger of being pushed against the lockers and fucked within an inch of his life. Dream did not fail to notice the distinct lack of underwear among the clean change of clothes, and now his mind is working overtime imagining himself standing behind Professor Gadling as he runs on the treadmill, the tiny shorts and the lack of proper underwear leaving nothing to the imagination. Imagines pressing himself against the professor's sweaty back after, the man still panting and out of breath, and pulling down his cute little shorts to jerk him off as a reward for a job well done.

"I see your dilemma," Dream says calmly, like this is an incident that happens every so often and not a cause for alarm or humiliation. "Fortunately, we have a stock of clean clothes in the staff locker room, in case staff members need to change for some reason or another. If you could please stay here for a while, I'm going to get you a clean change of clothes with more coverage."

Yes. It is imperative that he provides Professor Gadling with more conservative clothing than the ones currently in his bag. Otherwise, other people would see and covet what Dream has already envisioned as his. And that will definitely not do.

"Oh," Professor Gadling says, looking incredibly moved by his words. He's probably thinking how kind Dream is, while Dream is still thinking about how easy it would be to fuck his thighs after jerking him off, using the man's own cum as lube. How he would then make an even bigger mess of him and not clean him up after. That way, everyone would know that Professor Gadling is Dream's and Dream's only. "Are you sure? I don't want to trouble you unnecessarily."

"It's no problem at all," Dream says. In his mind, he imagines the man's thighs covered in both their cum, and Professor Gadling scooping some of it up and sucking on his fingers, curious as to what their mixed spend would taste like. "I have also been at the receiving end of a couple of my siblings' pranks, and would not wish another to suffer similarly." When Professor Gadling opened his mouth, possibly to protest, Dream holds up a hand and adds, "Please. I insist."

"Oh. Well then...thank you, Mr. Endless," Professor Gadling says, his dark brown eyes sparkling like precious gems in his gratefulness. Dream wants to kiss him all over. "You're a lifesaver."

Dream speedwalks to the staff locker room, checks to see if the coast is clear, immediately locks himself in a stall, drops his joggers and underwear, and starts jerking himself off furiously.

He barely even had to spit on his palm for lubrication, and he knows it wouldn't take long. He's already so aroused.

He has to do this.

If he doesn't, then Professor Gadling would be in an even greater danger when Dream hands him his clean (and much more conservative) change of clothes, and gets to be on the receiving end of his shy gratitude.

He imagines Professor Gadling, usually so buttoned up, only wearing that infernal crop top and booty shorts in Dream's favorite color, with those taunting fucking words--

"There's a good boy," his imagined self says to a kneeling Professor Gadling, who is pressing his tits closer together to create a valley where Dream could rut his cock against.

"I could...squeeze them even tighter, if you want?" his imagined Professor Gadling says, maintaining his naive, unsure aura about him even as his lips are slick and red from sucking on Dream's cock. "I want you to feel good, Mr. Endless."

Dream cums at the thought of marking Professor Gadling's face and hairy tits with his seed, and him shyly licking his lips for a taste of Dream's cum, moaning in delight when he finds Dream's spend to be thick and delicious. Dream is going to eat more pineapples, just for him. He's going to make Professor Gadling addicted to the taste of his cum that no other cum would do.

"Thank you for lending me your clothes, Mr. Endless," he would say, because he's polite like that. He would lean forward to milk Dream's cock more, making sure to get every last drop, before making a show of swallowing everything down, save for the cum marking him as Dream's. "And for the really tasty post-workout treat."

Mr. Endless looks a little flushed when he returns. However, judging by how far the staff locker room is from the gym goer's lockers that was out in the open (possibly to prevent theft and sexual harassment), as well as any additional effort he may have made in finding clean clothes that are in Hob's size, Hob thinks he got back pretty quickly.

The sight of him slightly flushed makes Hob think naughty thoughts though, which he quickly dispels from his mind. He doesn't have the right to think about Mr. Endless like that, especially after the man went through all this trouble just so Hob would feel comfortable going home.

Still. He wonders what would have happened if he had both the courage and the confidence to wear the clothes Jo bought for him.

Would Mr. Endless...

He viciously cuts the thought off before it could fully form. No. Absolutely not.

Mr. Endless would have felt nauseous at seeing his rolls and body hair and just...general unattractiveness. Hob wouldn't need to email him about quitting because the man himself would drop him as soon as he could, like a hot (temperature-wise) and very unappealing potato.

"Here," Dream says as he hands Professor Gadling a set of clean clothes. In the bundle is a black shirt, a black letterman jacket with the number 03 on it, and black joggers. All of them belong to Dream, and everyone, especially his siblings and the rest of the staff, is going to know that these are his clothes as soon as they see the number 03. "You will have to go commando, but it's definitely preferable to what your sister intended for you to wear."

Professor Gadling looks so grateful and Dream wants to mark him up, this time with his own teeth. Let everyone see Professor Gadling wearing his clothes and his teeth marks, even his boyfriend who lent him this hoodie, whoever he is. "Thank you so much," he says. "And yes. Lord knows I shouldn't subject anyone to the sight of me in that. I'll drive all the gym goers away and then Endless Gym would have to close."

Dream really, absolutely hates how Professor Gadling thinks of himself as unattractive. Is it because his boyfriend tells him that? Is that why Professor Gadling signed up for training in the first place?

Well, whoever he is, he better be prepared because Dream is ready and raring to beat him into a pulp the moment Professor Gadling even implies that his lack of self-esteem is caused by his boyfriend spouting lies about his beautiful body.

Were Dream allowed to freely speak his mind, he would say that if Professor Gadling did don the clothes his sister intended for him to wear, he would no doubt cause multiple accidents due to gym goers losing their concentration: dropping weights on their feet and tripping on the treadmills, not to mention the injuries he would cause in the future, when Dream would casually arrange little minor accidents to those he caught drooling at his lovely future boyfriend.

But because he is still Professor Gadling's trainer and therefore need to have some semblance of control and professionalism, what he says instead is, "I don't think such a thing will happen. And please, feel free to keep those clothes if you wish."

"Oh!" Professor Gadling exclaims. "I absolutely shouldn't. I'll wash them after and return them to you on our next session."

Dream smiles. He's very stubborn, too. "If you do that, I will simply put them in your locker so you will have an extra set of clothes if your sister decides to swap your clean set again."

Hob blushes as soon as Mr. Endless hands him the bundle of clothing, and feels even more flustered when, after showering, he holds them in his arms and smells a hint of Mr. Endless's own scent on them.

He really is so kind and generous and considerate and Hob is so very quickly falling in love with him.

Hob is walking past the gym's cafe after getting dressed when he sees Mr. Endless ordering what looks like a pineapple smoothie. He walks over and nods politely to both the staff member behind the counter and Mr. Endless when both men turn to look at him.

The male staff member quickly walks towards the blender to fulfill Mr. Endless's order, however, and so the two of them are left alone to converse freely.

"Thank you for lending me your clothes, Mr. Endless," Hob tells him, all-smiles. The clothes fit him perfectly, and the fabric feels good on his skin.

There is an undecipherable look in Mr. Endless's eyes. Hob hopes he's not mad. He looks really intense. "I see they fit you well."

Hob laughs. "I was surprised, too! Thank you very much for finding ones that are in my size. This jacket is especially lovely." He rubs his hand over the fabric of the jacket's sleeve, which really does have a nice texture to it.

"I'm glad you like it," Mr. Endless says. "And I hope that this means you are considering keeping it?"

Hob ducks his head to hide his embarrassing lovesick smile. He'd love to, actually. He'll take it off as soon as he gets home and press his face against it, hoping to smell what little remains of Mr. Endless's scent, and how their scents mix together. "Maybe."

"Then it is yours," Mr. Endless says. It might be Hob's delusional imagination, but Mr. Endless looks fond as he looks at him. His heart is beating so fast. If he doesn't leave soon, he may just do the unthinkable and kiss Mr. Endless in front of the poor staff member behind the bar, as well as a couple of random gym goers peacefully eating their salads in the background.

"Oh," Professor Gadling says softly. "Really? You mean that?"

Dream wasn't wrong in his assumption. The man does look good wearing his clothes. And for him to go out of his way just to show Dream how well they fit before he leaves...

Dream wants to tear his own clothes off him and just give him another set after.

"I do, Professor Gadling," he says. "I only say what I mean, and I would love for you to keep them. At home or in your locker, as long as your sister doesn't hide them from you and replace your clean change of clothes again."

"I will care for them well," Professor Gadling vows sincerely. Dream has no doubt that he will. But this is only the first of many clothes that Dream is planning on giving him. In fact, Dream could already envision his own closet at home, interspersed with Professor Gadling's clothes, and the man himself wearing Dream's clothes to bed. Dream is going to let him steal all his hoodies after they burn his ex's hoodies. He's going to spoil him rotten with pretty lingerie so he'll never have to go commando ever again. "Shall I see you in a couple of days for our next session?"

Dream could think of no one else belonging in his life as a romantic partner other than Professor Gadling. He smiles and barely prevents himself from leaning forward and giving the man's delicious-looking lips a chaste peck before he has to leave. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

#personal trainer dream au #your honor they need to chill tf out #dreamling #the sandman #my writing #5800 plus words motherfucker what #good job my thumbs #the rest of my fingers also contributed so 👏👏👏#matthew: boss pls i'm just trying to make you a smoothie here #other gym goers in the gym's cafe: really? right in front of our salads?#I was thinking what this AU's title is going to be if I put it on AO3 and my brain said 'Let's Get Physical' 😂#now I don't know about that but it certainly made me laugh #i'm sorry for laughing miss olivia newton-john 🙇‍♀️

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maxybabyy · 7 months

Text

The sheets are cold when Daniel wakes, and Max is nowhere to be seen.

Dawn’s about to break, but the streets of Paris are still alight; loud and bountiful as people make their way back home. He’s only been here for a handful of months, but Paris is already so much different than back home. Daniel doesn’t know how he lived without it.

When he finds Max, he’s outside on the balcony, dressed in his robe from the night before, soft white stark even against his pale skin.

Before, Daniel had stared at the elephant in awe. The impressive architecture and intricate decorations. Had wondered what it would be like to live there, a place fit for a prince. Now he knows better.

“You’re gonna get a cold out here,” he says, wraps his arms around Max’s waist. He kisses his shoulder, drags his lips over the knobs of his spine until he reaches the lock of his necklace, the pendant enormous as it lies in the hollow of his neck.

It’s a recent addition, a gift from the duke. Awful and gauche in taste, but worth more than anything Daniel’s ever owned. Less than Max deserves, but still more than he could ever dream of giving him.

Max shivers in his arms, his entire body tense against his. Not unlike how he had been when they first met.

Well – not, not the very first time, Daniel thinks.

“Enchante,” Daniel had said in broken French and kissed his hand. Max wide-eyed and sweaty straight after a show. Max had been keen then. Even as he had thought Daniel was the duke, part of him had wanted it too. Max had told him so, after. When the truth had come out.

That Daniel wasn’t a duke, but another one of Charles’ idealistic friends who believed in love before everything else. In song and poetry, in creativity and feeling.

Max had been mad then. Furious and mad, embarrassed that he had let Daniel into his bed so easily. So used to the give and take, that Daniel’s adoration hadn’t felt like it was enough. But it was, is enough, Daniel knows now.

“Christian came by,” Max says, his voice hoarse. It could be the cold, the nipping wind that has come with the turn of fall, but Daniel thinks he must have been crying too. “After – when the show ended, after he came by.”

“Yeah?” Daniel says, cautious. His hands tighten on Max’s hips, the bones jutted out awkwardly where they used to be soft. He’s getting too thin, Daniel thinks. If it’s not a show, he’s at rehearsal – Charles relentless in his vision of the perfect play. “What did he want then? Had another brilliant idea, did he?”

Max breathes out, steady and quiet. Daniel feels how his chest expands with the motion, how he trembles as the air leaves him.

“He came to say the duke could not come, that he was busy with business,” Max tells him, steadfast. “That he would see me tonight instead. He left me another present also. But this I don’t care about.”

Daniel frowns. “Why is this –“

Max doesn’t care much for the duke. Christian needs him to keep the theatre in business, Max needs Christian, so Max keeps the duke happy.

Daniel doesn’t like to imagine how it works. He knows Max has sex with the duke when he isn’t with him, that he’s supposed to only be with the duke and no one else, that Christian promised it would be as such. Daniel doesn’t care about that. But Max –

Max doesn’t lie. His heart lives on his sleeve, and his mouth doesn’t ever stay shut, even when it should. But still the duke doesn’t know, believes Max to be as infatuated with him as he is with Max.

“That’s a good thing, no?” He asks.

Max turns in his arms, leans against the railing. It puts another inch of space between them, and Daniel already hates it, braces himself for what Max will say next. “Daniel, if he had come, if Christian had not come here instead, he would of course have seen you,” Max says, tugs the robe tighter around him.

“I would have –“ Daniel says in a rush, pushes closer to Max. “We would have heard him, Maxy. I would have slipped out before –“ But Max twists away from him and escapes inside.

“Always you sleep like the dead, Daniel.” Max snarls. His head is in his hands, but Daniel hears him clearly. “Charles was here last week to work on the finale, and still you slept! You would not have woken, and we would have been caught. He would know that I am with you also, that you have my heart.”

“But he didn’t,” Daniel says and gives chases, quick to follow in Max’s steps. “He didn’t come, and he doesn’t know, won’t ever know. I promise you, Max.”

Max shakes his head, “We have to stop. He cannot know, Daniel.”

“We cannot stop, please Maxy. I love –“

Max sucks in a breath. There’s fucking murder in his eyes as he glares at him, and if Daniel was any less of a man, his mouth would stay shut. But he isn’t, cannot be if he wants to be with Max.

“I love you, Max.” He says again, reaches for Max, and this time Max lets him hold him. “I love you. Don’t let him change that.”

They’ve been here before, Max with one foot out of the door. But Daniel loves him enough to keep pulling him back in, to make sure he knows there is nothing he wants more than Max’s love. That all this would be for nought if Max turned him away now.

“He will of course never stop,” Max says, miserable.

“And neither will I,” Daniel says and leans in for a kiss. “I will write you a million love songs, so even if – if he takes you away from me, you will always know how I feel. How I love you, Max.”

“Daniel, don’t –“ But it’s Daniel’s turn to shake his head.

“Just promise me that you will always love me, that’s all I ask,” Daniel says, begs of him. “Everything else, we can figure out. But this, please, Max. Promise me.”

“I do, I of course do,” Max says, kisses him desperately. “I love you too, Daniel.”

And that is enough for now, it has to be, he knows.

#maxiel #maxiel fic #i saw moulin rouge live and haven't stopped thinking about this au #another draft had girl!max but I didn't think it needed it :/#you decide if max is d*ing from TB or they escape to the french countryside #i'm supposed to work on my ot3 draft but here we are ...#my writing #my fic #fic #moulin rouge au

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voidartisan · 1 year

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even MORE modern au

bc i was looking at someone else's doodles and got inspired.

Quinlan and Aayla have their own little soap opera going on next door involving Bly, Ventress, and Aayla's bio mom but you only get snippets bc Ahsoka isn't paying attention

Obi-Wan and Satine have a running joke that he married her because she beat him at chess and he couldn't figure out how else to react

Cody is a coach at a neighboring high school (not the high school that the kids in his neighborhood attend) and also teaches geography

If the au were in its Ideal Form (television sitcom) you wouldn't see Fox's face (wearing sunglasses, head out of frame, back to camera, etc.) until he meets Riyo for the first time, at which point he lowers his mirrored shades to look her in the eyes properly.

Tup draws. constantly. if you leave a piece of paper near him for longer than two minutes it will come away with a doodle

Everyone has basically forgotten that nuclear families are the "norm" bc this neighborhood is just so full of unusual family constructions. Couple raising nephew, younger brother, and adopted daughter? Sure! Single dad and daughter? Great! Aunt and niece? Welcome to the club! An unspecified but very large rotating group of "brothers" with no parents around? Why not!

Ahsoka Rex and Anakin have an eclectic tiktok account/yt channel that’s mostly just them doing a bunch of random stuff. Ahsoka’s skincare routine, Rex and Anakin teaching you how to properly throw a football, Anakin working on his car, comedy sketches, etc.

They have one video of them attempting to make a pineapple upside down cake that did go semi-viral bc there’s a shot where you can see Obi-Wan walking into the kitchen, seeing the mess, and going through all five stages of grief in the background

Baby Leia has Obi-Wan wrapped around her little finger for the first ten or so years of her life

Yoda gives out one (1) full size candy bar every Halloween to the most impressive costume, which creates an unofficial costume contest. he has super weird criteria for "impressive," though, and it seems to shift from year to year...

Mace LOVES scavenger hunts (a la Ron Swanson) and Depa sets up increasingly complicated ones for his birthday each year (tbh I might not limit this one to the modern au)

#tcw modern au #i need more motivation to write this so pls feel free to inbox me about it here or on my writing blog if you want #star wars #sw #obi wan kenobi #tcw #the clone wars #satine kryze #tup #commander fox #foxiyo #riyo chuchi #quinlan vos #commander bly #aayla secura #blyla #i guess #commander cody #asajj ventress

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ghostbeam · 1 month

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Guys I miss Dabi

#I say while thinking about him 24/7 #actually I wanted to write more of him for the art school au #and then I thought no I need to give other characters a chance here #so I was like I will write bkg #but I just🥺I miss dabiiiiiii #he loves u so much and he wants to draw u all the time and he does and he zones out in class just to sketch u instead of the model #and ur always like stop ur literally getting f’s for this and he’s like if I could stop I would (no he wouldn’t)#god he’s just sooooo boyfriend #ghost thoughts

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brutal-nemesis · 21 hours

Note

big question!! dude can we please see a scene in the AU where castys has his tongue cut off and he has to deal with that? like man, the shock and the pain and the fuckin grief? and neteri just being herself ofc

anyway the latest erebus chapter was heartbreaking you’re so good at being awful to these lads (i can’t stop reading)

Thank you I try,,,,,

Okay strap in fellas I think this is banger as hell I had a great time and let me know if you have any other requests for the AU!

Ingredients: shockingly, tongue gets cut off! some suffocation as well

Castys wasn’t great at sitting in chairs normally, something his parents had always reprimanded him for, but, hey, they’d never taken it as far as to fucking tie him to one, and Castys was grateful. This shit was uncomfortable. Like, yeah, the rough ropes around his wrists and ankles were tight and itchy, but also the position just sucked. Not that he’d rather be standing or something-

“You must be Castys!” The door had swung open, and now this little lady with a white coat on was walking up to him.

“Yes, I’m Castys,” he said flatly as she scurried behind him before coming back without her bag. And then she just…stared at him. Castys wasn’t sure what she was looking at, since there really wasn’t much to see, just, like, him. Eventually her eyes wandered up to his, and she jumped in place a bit.

“Oh, right, I’m Neteri.” She stuck her hand out like she expected him to shake it.

“You know I’m tied up, right?”

“Ah. Yeah.” Her skin was dark enough that it wasn’t immediately obvious that she was blushing, but Castys was pretty sure she was. She ended up awkwardly grabbing his right hand and shaking it a bit. “I, um, I’ll be preparing you for this afternoon. Sorry, I’m just a bit nervous.”

“Well, you’re not tied to a chair so I think you’ll be okay.”

She laughed. “You’re right, you’re right, but I’m just…I think I’m going to do something I’m not supposed to do.”

Castys raised an eyebrow. “Let me go because I’m funny?”

Neteri rolled her eyes, but she was smiling, so clearly she did think he was funny. “No, you’re staying put, sorry bud. But I think I’m going to keep you. You’re kind of perfect.” She tried to cup his cheek in her hand, but Castys leaned away, staring at her with wide eyes.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” His mouth was really dry all of a sudden, he wasn’t perfect, he was a fuck-up, a useless heir, that had been his goal, he wasn’t good at anything he was supposed to be good at, he wasn’t well-mannered or polite, he had a huge fucking scar on his face and a lopsided smile because of it, he was filthy and vulgar and didn’t have any interest in getting married he was absolutely anything but perfect. So why the hell did she want him?

“It’s not important right now. You’ve got a big day ahead of you!” She clapped her hands, dismissing the subject entirely. He wanted to press her further, but after seeing the lovely object she pulled out of her pocket, everything else was forgotten.

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Aw, what are you gonna do about it, Castys? I thought you were tied to a chair!” Great, now it was his turn to feel his face grow hot, because, yeah, what the fuck was he gonna do?

Normally, he doubted he’d immediately recognize it for what it was, but today, right now, after just being told this lady wanted to keep him, it was instantly clear. And Neteri was right, he was only able to squirm uselessly and lean away as she wrapped the collar around his neck without much trouble. His first swallow after she’d sealed it shut felt horrible, and he absolutely did not want to get used to it.

“See, it’s not so bad. It looks cute on you!” She ruffled his hair, which only made Castys more uncomfortable.

“I don’t want to be cute. I’m not a fucking dog.” He wasn’t sure whether the collar was part of Neteri’s weird desires or just to humiliate him, but either way he hated it.

“No, you’re not, but you’re also not a prince anymore, and you’re the property of the Xernan Empire, and this is a good reminder of that,” Neteri said as she walked around behind him, probably to her bag. Castys rolled his eyes. He didn’t need to be reminded that he wasn’t a prince, since it was his favorite new development in all of this. Unless…unless it wasn’t just a reminder for him, but for everyone else, too…He really, really hoped there wasn’t going to be some sort of public display, but given how Neteri’d said he had a “big day” ahead…fuck, that was probably the case, huh?

“Now, I’m going to…oh, I might get in so much trouble for this,” Neteri muttered as she stared at the floor, standing in front of him once again. She had leather gloves on, which would have been nice earlier when she was touching him, and she was holding…a pair of shears? He didn’t think she’d put on gloves if she was just going to cut his hair, and given that she thought she might get in trouble for it, it seemed like she was going to…maim him somehow. Castys curled his hands into fists as Neteri slapped her cheeks with her palms, still talking to herself. “No, I’m going to do this. I deserve it. It’s not that far off from what the emperor wants. Okay,” she held the shears up and gave Castys a concerningly bright smile. “Any last words?”

For once, Castys didn’t take the opportunity to speak.

Instead, he locked his jaw shut tight, teeth clenched so hard it hurt, lips pressed together, walls of protection around his tongue.

That’s what she wanted, wasn’t it?

Neteri cocked her head, watching him. “Nothing to say all of a sudden? No jokes?” Her smile disappeared as her eyes narrowed. “You figured it out, didn’t you, Castys? What I’m going to do to you.”

He didn’t bother nodding.

Neteri stepped up to him, her knee on the chair in between his legs, leaning over him, her face right above his as he craned back to avoid her. “You’re going to have to get used to obeying me, Castys.” The cold metal of the shears rested on his cheek. “So open your mouth.”

If there’s one thing Castys was good at, it was disobeying orders.

After a few moments of neither of them moving, Neteri pinched Castys’s nose shut with her free hand, not saying a word. Fine, he could play that game. Hold on as the pressure in his chest built, as his head started to spin, as his vision started to darken, every fiber of his being screaming at him to just give in to the inevitable and take a breath. He could do it quick, a little gasp, fast enough that she wouldn’t be able to do anything. Okay, three, two…

The exhale was shaky, but it was fine, just a quick inhale as he snapped his mouth shut-

His teeth scraped against metal, the sensation sending shivers down his spine.

Neteri stared at him with a detached coldness as she rotated the shears, forcing his jaw open wide, wide enough for her to stick her hand in and grab his tongue, pulling it out despite his attempts to pull it back, turning the shears to the side now, opening them up, the cold blades-

Snip.

Castys’s mouth was hot it was burning he was choking the smell of blood was so strong he was suffocating on it her hand was still in his mouth her fingers pressed against his wound magic piercing through his jaw he’d scream if he had the air and then that was it her hand was gone he lurched forward coughing and spitting blood and saliva all down the front of the threadbare shirt he’d been given and once he saw the discarded little piece of pink flesh on the floor he couldn’t look at anything else he couldn’t believe that was it it was gone it wasn’t in his mouth his mouth was empty there was only the blood still dripping out and when Neteri laid a hand on his back he wanted to growl at her not to touch him but he couldn’t he couldn’t say anything anymore he was quiet nothing to say no thoughts or opinions of his own just how his parents had wanted him-

“It’s alright, Castys, just breathe. It was a little more difficult than it needed to be, but you did it.” And why did it need to be at all? “Just two more things left today and then you can rest. And then hopefully…” Her hand slid up, resting on the back of his neck, on that awful collar, and Castys wanted to scream. He never, ever wanted to belong to her.

But what he wanted didn’t matter anymore.

Castys was dragged out and whipped and branded and left out on display, brought back and patched up by Neteri and given soup that he couldn’t taste, and when the door slammed shut behind her, he finally allowed himself to cry.

His back and chest hurt, of course, the wounds aggravated no matter how he moved or what position he laid in, but he could deal with it. It was nothing compared to what he’d lost, the little pocket of empty space inside his mouth.

Words were all he’d ever have to really fight back, complaining when he was forced to do things he didn’t want to, scaring off all the suitors his parents picked out, jokes keeping him calm when he was scared or upset, even when he couldn’t do anything he could still say something, make sure everyone knew how he felt, and now he was more helpless than ever before and he couldn’t say a single fucking thing.

He didn’t even know where he was going to end up, either sold off to some asshole or left in Neteri’s clutches, and no matter what, he wasn’t going to be treated like a person. The collar made it pretty clear. He was less than human now, a pet, a lab rat, property, something that didn’t need to have thoughts or opinions anymore.

He’d rather be a prince after all.

Castys Cult: @as-a-matter-of-whump @blackrosesandwhump @fanmanga1357-blog @thehopelessopus @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi

@hearse-song @muddy-swamp-bitch @whumpasaurus101 @yet-another-heathen @galaxywhump

@starnight-whump @his-unspoken-words @misspelledwitch @suspicious-whumping-egg @pumpkin-spice-whump

@painsandconfusion @i-can-even-burn-salad @befuddled-calico-whump @whumpinggrounds @whump-queen

@whumpedydump

#i wrote something #whump-in-the-closet #thanks troy this was super fun!#castys & terror au #castys #neteri #whump #tongue whump #the best part about writing this was i just copy pasted some of neteri's dialogue and actions from e&t ch2 lmao #i missed writing her tho fuck :(#i know it's my own fault but still (┬┬﹏┬┬) my girl #and then castys is easy as fuck to write yippee #by the time wick asked me about him getting his hair cut i had already written the beginning of this #and i didnt really know how to work it in 😔 so just know that if he had longer hair and it got cut it would have made him very happy #and probably lulled him into a bit of a false sense of security #castys deserves a collar at all times tbh he is a feral animal and i need to pull him around by the neck #plus he looks soooo good with one on especially if it's red (it's black here tho 😔)#god neteri being threatening to him is so sexy #and then no more tongue HAH HOW DO YOU LIKE THAT MISTER STUPID COMEBACKS #NOBODY WANTS TO LISTEN TO YOU #just be a good little test subject from now on (he won't)

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bittersweetresilience · 8 months

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it feels cosmically unfair that i think about writing all the time want to write all the time and sit down to write all the time and i come up with two sentences at best. there should be some reward system i think

#RAAAAAAAAAA #the thing is i know why i'm stuck it's because i get overly wrapped up in meaningless details of word choice and sentence structure #and i need every word to be perfect before i can move on to the next and that just creates an interminable cycle of being so slow to #progress i feel like even more like a failure and imperfect and respond by being even more intense about it #in spite of the fact that almost no reader is going to look at my work and go hey nice i noticed you used a word with an aesthetically #pleasing number of letters here as opposed to a word ending in t which would have ruined the flow and disgusted me forever #but it's not about the readers i'm the one who reads it and gets disgusted forever #and i know this does not matter but it feels like there is no conceivable way i could write something without it being perfect first try #fucking hilariously i edited the tags of this post for a good ten minutes because the spacing of the words was bothering me so i had to #find words with different lengths as replacements #RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA #anyway i'm doing wonderfully #this is about soulmate au i think maybe because it's so important to me i'm especially perfectionistic over it right now #brain can you stop it i'm on my hands and knees #also t is the worst letter invented hands down. no question.

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skitskatdacat63 · 8 months

Text

Boy King AU | Vettonso + Martian | 1.3k

There's something about putting the future emperor of the Holy Realm on his knees like this. About how easily he goes, how willingly, how obediently. What would his adoring public think if they could see him now. If they saw their beloved king pressed down like this, in the cramped space between Fernando's legs. When they realized their little boy king took it like he was a little concubine instead.

Fernando's bitterness is lifted away in moments like these, like taking off a heavy cloak on a winter's day. It was hard to feel humiliated about his own situation when watching Sebastian debase himself like this.

He always gives himself up so easily. When Fernando threaded his fingers through his thick curls. When he pulled them, and then when he pressed his face down further down into the vee of his legs. Sebastian rubbed his cheek into the coarse fabric of Fernando's breeches and blinked up at him. Fernando had to smother an embarrassing sound; he was just like a little cat!

Sebastian quirked his lips up into an odd little smile and slightly rose up on his knees, "What's funny?" Fernando swallowed lightly and schooled his face back into being impassive, "Nothing. As you were." Sebastian simply smirked at him and let himself be pushed back down by the fist clenched in his hair.

Fernando scoffed internally, there was only so much pleasure in putting the other man in his place when he instead acted like this, this degrading action, was his birthright. He took to ruling and indulging in carnal pleasures as if they were of equal gravity. To be privileged to hold such high station and also let himself be taken apart like this…Fernando felt embarrassed for him.

He is dragged away from his musings when Sebastian moved to settle his hands in Fernando's lap, clutching his hips over the fabric and slightly squeezing; Fernando fought against the urge to shiver. Sebastian pushed up the skirt of Fernando's waistcoat and smoothed his hands over the opening flap of his breeches.

His eyes darted up at Fernando again, a daft smile on his face. Fernando scowled at him, "What?" Seb's grin sharpened, "You could stand to be a little more gracious. This is your future emperor, and future husband might I add, kneeling for you on this dirty, depraved, derelict- ah–" Fernando tugged on his hair again and hissed, "Well then, why don't you show me how eager you are to perform your marital duties?"

Seb licked his lips, completely unconcerned by Fernando's annoyance, and unbuttoned one side of the closure to Fernando's breeches and moved to open the other–

The door to the carriage flew open, arrival announcement dying on a wheezing breath as the servant took in the image the two kings made. One splayed across the seat, exuding power, the other kneeled, debauched, between the former's legs.

One would be hard pressed to determine which was higher on the totem of power and titles.

There was something gratifying about this to Fernando, about being caught. He had been humiliated enough throughout the entire courtship, what was one more thing? And, certainly, what was one more thing if he could drag Sebastian down into the dirt with him.

"Oh Mark, don't act so abashed! It's nothing you haven't seen before, in fact, we have been in this very position not even a fortnight ago!"

Oh. Yes. That.

It was hard to be completely pleased when he remembered how Sebastian had already spent years prior to their engagement sampling the palace's ample selection of fellow high-born men. And how all those men seemed to be completely and utterly wrapped around his little finger.

Fernando released his hand from Sebastian's hair as if it had burned him. He did not understand why he felt ashamed with Mark looking in on them like this. Fernando was the one marrying Sebastian, not Mark; Mark was just a lowly courtier who had the esteemed duty of spending practically every waking hour with the brat…something he himself was decidedly not looking forward to.

Sebastian stayed kneeling, staring impassively up at Mark, still fiddling with the clasp on Fernando's breeches. Fernando gritted his teeth and looked up from where he was watching Sebastian's clever little hands; Mark stared back at him placidly.

Mark's indifference made the entire situation worse. Fernando now felt as if he was not doing anything unique, not doing anything particularly new. How many other men had Mark caught Seb with in this exact position? Fernando felt like he was just another plaything of the boy king, soon to be boy emperor, except his position was forever, permanent. He was the "Kept King", the king who only kept his throne due to the whims of a boy who doesn't even understand what power is.

Mark coughed, "Well," he says, "Your Majesty, I do believe you have a meeting to attend." Seb pouted at him and whined, "We were just getting to the main course," but still braced himself on Fernando's thighs and got up off the carriage floor.

Seb pranced down the steps Mark had placed next to the carriage, miming tripping sown the stairs, snickering when his action made Mark reflexively reach out to grab him, and then playfully skipped off the final step.

Fernando couldn't help but stare as Mark made the weirdest grimace in response, and he inexplicably felt all his mortification seep away from him. Huh. Maybe Mark is-

Seb then turned around and frowned at him, seemingly disappointed, but his eyes are deceivingly sharp, "Fernando, I regret to inform you that I have other duties I must attend to, you will simply have to wait." He then grinned up at Mark next to him and giggled as the other man stiffened when Sebastian looped both of his arms through Mark's.

He leaned all his weight on the other man, Mark not so much as shifting his weight, "Oh Mark, won't you carry me back to the palace? I'm so very tired after all the horse riding," Seb looked up at him imploringly.

Fernando observed as Mark rolled his eyes and shrugged off the man, though notably not pulling his arm from Seb's grasp, and he got the distinct feeling that this exact scene had been played out countless times before.

Fernando clenched his jaw as he watched Seb turn and saunter off, Mark trotting alongside him like a loyal dog. Fernando was supposed to be the unaffected one in this partnership, the unflustered one, the unconcerned one. And yet here he stood, in broad daylight, in a foreign kingdom, on the steps of a carriage with his breeches half unbuttoned and his cravat in disarray.

He heard a cough from beside him, jolted and looked to the side. Sebastian's loyal Horse Master stood there, lounging against the side of the carriage. Fernando had forgotten who had even been driving the carriage in the first place. After Seb has let himself be pushed down, his hair still windswept from their ride together, everything else seemed to fade away. His thoughts were reduced only to how he could mess up the younger man's hair further.

Jenson grinned at him wolfishly, and casually crossed his legs, "First time?" he inquired. Fernando glared at him. The other man laughed openly at him, "What? He's a busy man with big prospects. You're not his majesty's only conquest, you know. Now your throne on the other hand…"

Fernando seethed, it was one thing to be humiliated by the future emperor, but to be patronized by the king's horse boy? No. It would simply not do. He closed his eyes in annoyance, pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaled, and prepared a speech about how he was not about to be talked down to by a man who didn't even have a throne to speak of!

But when he opened his eyes again and opened his mouth to begin his tirade, Jenson was already wandering away to tend to the horses. Dios mío, Fernando was not mentally prepared to spend the rest of his life with all of these impertinent morons.

#i love how i kept saying to people: no no i shant write any fic for this. only art.#me like two weeks later: hey guys :)#this is just: i was sitting in class and had a drawing idea but then im obv not drawing *this* in class so my brain went into narrative mod #not exactly 'baby's first ficlet!!!' but moreso ive not written in a while so i hope its alright???#but aaahhh this was actually pretty fun!! idk i think it was bcs i was also being brainrotted by the image of seb kneeling....#maybe ill draw it. but it felt like something that needed the context of narrative and not just oo here is a drawing!#anyways you can always ask me for a directors cut-(PLEASE PLEAE BEGGING PLEASE)#see this is why im not cut out for writing fic #its not like i dont think it can speak for itself. more that im just an overly reflective person who wants to explain all my thoughts #if i wrote fic itd really be just: chapter 1. chapter 1.5 chapter 2. chapter 2.5 #anyways i think its pretty obvious but this is before their wedding and just like peak bitterness.#well not peak. peak would be the first year- first few months of their marriage #but this is fernando who is only just realizing how naive all his expectations of seb were and getting a glimpse of his future #but mostly: mindgames and power play and: whos actually really winning?#also my god jense is literally the best chara in this au. he is vibing and basically just witnessing ye olde reality tv #mark and fernando are always in a weird powerplay with seb(even if seb isnt even consiously doing so) and jense is just free from it all #hmm now how does one go about tagging fic #vettonso #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #f1 #formula 1 #martian #sebmark #also idk why im always so concerned abt tagging when im basically just writing this for my little boy king following i have somehow formed #hahaha! it is art to me!:#catie.art.#boy king au

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afewproblems · 7 months

Text

Season Two Halloween AU Part Nine

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six Part Seven Part Eight

As always, thank you thank you to the lovely Jess @strangersteddierthings for cheering me on, letting me send spoilers, and Steddie screaming with me!

***

Eddie moves, trying to find a comfortable position in the firm plastic hospital chair, letting his legs stretch out into the bulk of the hallway and sliding down the chair.

He won't be able to stay like this for much longer either, but it's worth it for the irritated looks he can feel from the nurses station.

Eddie hadn't been allowed in the room with Steve while he was being assessed, forcing him to wait outside in the hallway.

He can hear them talking, not bothering to be quiet at four in the morning.

"There's no answer, who isn't home at this time of night?"

"Did you try the secondary number?"

"Yes, it's for a business though and all I get is the answering machine for a Richard Harrington".

Eddie frowns, silently agreeing with the first nurse, why the hell aren't they here?

That's when he remembers something Steve had mentioned, so casually, Eddie realizes, feeling a little sick, that his parents wouldn't be home until Thanksgiving this year.

Which is just shy of a month away still, give or take a week.

Just how long have they been gone, he wonders, feeling an anxious pit begin to form in his stomach, and what would that mean for him now?

He's saved from this train of thought for the moment by Hopper appearing at the end of the hall, his heavy step and squeaky boots announcing themselves well before he steps into view.

He looks exhausted, and a little worse for wear, and Eddie has never been happier to see a cop.

He walks past Eddie, though he does spare him a single nod, and makes his way to the nurses station.

"Morning," Hopper says gruffly, his voice crackles as though it's either been used too much or too little recently.

"'M'here about the Harrington kid, we have a few questions for him and his injuries and then I'll be taking him home after his statement".

"Sir, that's not--" one of the Nurses tries, only for Hopper to flash his badge and knock his knuckles once on the top of the desk.

"Which room?" He at least has the decency to ask this time, throwing a thumb over his shoulder.

Eddie hears a long sigh as the other Nurse mutters, '206'; Hopper doesn't even wait for her to finish the word before he's turning on his heel, his boots making a horrible squeak against the linoleum tiles as moves.

He slows to a stop in front of Eddie, finally looking at him, it's always been nerve wracking having the chiefs full attention on him, though there's a rather big difference between now and the last time, down at the station.

"They check you out?" He grumbles to Eddie, his fingers tap a nervous rhythm on his leg.

Eddie shakes his head, "Steve took the brunt of everything tonight".

Hopper nods, his gruff face pinched with something close to worry, but it's gone in an instant.

He looks down the hall at something over Eddie's shoulder and lifts his hand in a muted wave before turning back to Eddie.

"You should head home Munson, I took the liberty of getting you a ride".

Eddie frowns at the words and startles slightly as another person sits down beside him, he hadn't even noticed until Wayne was all of a sudden right there.

Eddie blinks, exhaustion and emotion all encompassing; he feels as though he might sink into the floor or tip forward and fall away from the world right then and there, but Wayne reaches out, clasping his shoulder with his firm warm hand. Like he always does.

"Wayne," Eddie says in a tremulous voice, the weight of the night finally crashes over him, the dogs, Billy, the tunnels, it's too much. The image of Steve crumpling to the floor, shards of ceramic in his hair, plays over and over again.

Eddie's face is wet as Wayne pulls him into his arms, he ignores the way the hospital chair digs into his ribs as he moves.

"S'okay Ed," Wayne whispers, letting his hand rub soothing circles on his back, up and down.

Wayne says something above Eddie's head, most likely to Hopper, but he doesn't care, not now. He focuses on the grounding feeling of being held, the warm comfort of knowing that when he needed it, his uncle was there.

He tries not to think about the fact that it's Hopper in Steve's room rather than his parents.

***

They don’t talk after.

It shouldn’t have been surprising really. After the whirlwind in the tunnels, learning that Dustin really had managed to bond with one of the creatures over a mediocre chocolate bar, and finally, finally, getting Steve to the hospital, it was like everything else was put on the back burner.

The government gives them all NDAs to sign, including Wayne now --how was he not going to tell his uncle after the hospital? The government officials had given Eddie a bit of trouble about it during the debrief about their cover story, until Wayne and Hopper had argued his defense.

The worst part though, about everything, is the pretending.

Pretending that everything is normal, like there aren't monsters from an alternate dimension running around Hawkins, like the government didn't know about the real reason so many people, like Mr.Newby, had died. Pretending that small petty things like his late homework assignments, or who was dating who in the wilds of Hawkins High really mattered.

With that being said, the news that Nancy Wheeler and Jonathan Byers were officially dating now, surged through the school.

Pretending that that news doesn't make Eddie feel relieved was also difficult.

Well, maybe relieved isn't the right word, but after Eddie's half-assed confession before the tunnels, and the stay in the hospital, Steve has been avoiding him.

And if it wasn’t because of Nancy….

Well, Eddie tries not to dwell too much on it.

Two weeks after their trip into the Dismal Caverns, Eddie spots, speak of the devil, Nancy Wheeler leaning on his locker.

The last bell has long past so it's only the stragglers now wandering halls, those waiting for Band Practice to start, those just getting out of detention.

Three guesses which one he's here for.

Eddie hasn't seen or spoken to Nancy since their government meeting, not that either had been particularly chatty that night, but she had at least sent a grateful smile Eddie's way as one of the officials went through the whole story of that night.

So to see her now sets his teeth on edge and his stomach plummeting into his shoes.

Is it back, did something happen to Will, did another Demodog surface?

Is Steve okay?

As if Nancy can see the terrified questions swirling around his head, she raises the hand not holding her books to her chest and says lowly, "everyone's fine".

Eddie lets out the breath he's holding, trying to lower his heart rate, "haven't seen you around these parts Wheeler, don't tell me you need a pick me up?"

He tries for a swarthy smile but it falls flat as the adrenalin from his earlier panic is still running rampant, he runs a sweaty hand through his hair, trying to hide the slight shake.

Nancy rolls her eyes and pushes herself off the locker by her shoulder, tipping her head towards the far back door to the building.

She says nothing as she leads him out of the school and towards his usual picnic table in the trees.

Eddie tugs his leather jacket around his torso as a harsh November breeze kicks up dead leaves and dust around the school building in small whirls. He wishes in this moment he had found a zip up closure rather than one with button snaps.

Eddie laughs nervously as they enter the treeline, "uh huh, you sure you didn't want something?"

Nancy turns to sit on top of the table, her face impassive, "Mrs. Click was still there, in her room, I don't need to have any meetings with her and my parents because they think I'm being corrupted," she lifts her hands and makes exaggerated quotations with her fingers before rolling her eyes again.

"We can talk here," she says primly, setting her books down on the table beside her.

Eddie grins, "you're probably setting yourself up for a meeting with the counselor tomorrow anyway, walking out of the school with me".

He kicks at a bottle cap in the grass and watches as it tumbles a few feet away. When he looks back up, Nancy is staring at him with a pinched brow.

"I'll bite, what's going on?"

Nancy nods and it's like a switch flips, her spine straightens slightly and her shoulders square before a determined expression smoothes out her face, it's eerie how similar it is to Steve's.

"What is he to you?" Nancy asks,

"Who?" Eddie stumbles over the word, already knowing exactly who Nancy is asking about.

She looks around now, prompting Eddie to do the same, just in case.

"I know it isn't," she hesitates for a beat as though searching for the word, "safe to talk about it, but," she blinks once, twice, "that's part of why I'm here, asking".

"I won't see Steve get hurt, not again".

"So," Nancy stands now, gracefully rising to her feet and stepping off the table, she takes a step closer towards Eddie, "what is he to you?"

He has a good five or six inches on her at least but the fire in her blue eyes makes him feel so much smaller in this moment.

Eddie feels a snarl build in his chest, the words tumbling out before he can get a chance to really think about them.

"That's fucking rich coming from you, as though you didn't rip his heart out at that stupid Halloween party".

Nancy's face pales slightly, but there's blood in the water now.

He never really had the heart to ask Steve this question, and he probably never would have been able to actually answer it.

But Nancy can.

"Steve is brave, fucking reckless but he's brave, and selfless, and he cares so much --about everything,"

Eddie forces himself to stay where he is, to not move, but his voice climbs in volume, carrying through the trees.

"You had that and you threw it away Wheeler, and you come in here asking what he is to me?"

He watches as Nancy looks around them frantically watching for people, but Eddie doesn't care, he keeps going.

"He's more than some bullshit you toss in the trash".

There are twin spots of red on the high points of her cheekbones, matching the flush painting her ears, Nancy pins him with a frosty glare as she breathes out slowly through her nose.

"Well, you certainly care, don't you, that's a question answered at least".

She clears her throat and blinks again, and to Eddie's horror, her eyes shine with tears in the afternoon sun.

"You don't know what it was like after everything last year, how hard it was".

She wipes roughly at one of the tears that rolls down her cheek, cutting it off.

"I wanted to talk about it, I wanted to tell Barb's parents what happened to their daughter, my--"

Nancy swallows roughly, her nostrils flaring, "my best friend, was dead".

"And Steve wanted to pretend that everything was fine, that it was normal," she clears her throat and wipes at her eyes again, "and I can't do that, I don't have it in me to let it go yet".

Eddie nods, he gets it.

He didn't understand how everyone was able to just go on like everything in the last week didn't happen, or if he will ever forget the sounds those things made as they screamed in the darkness, that people had died that night.

He can't pretend either and it's a relief to know he isn't the only one.

Eddie opens his mouth to apologize but Nancy keeps going, her words softer this time.

"I don't really believe that Steve has been able to let it go either if I'm being honest," Nancy says, her eyes searching Eddie's face as she speaks, "he sleeps with the hall lights on, did he tell you? He can't stand the dark anymore".

"Yeah," Eddie breathes out, "he's said it before, I didn't know about the hall, but.."

He lets the thought trail off, it makes sense. It's not as though he's been sleeping well since everything ended either. Wayne had woken him up that first night to stop his screaming and calm him down, he ended up crawling in with Wayne for the rest of the night, something he hadn't done since he was eight.

Eddie startles slightly at the sudden small hand touching his arm. Nancy pulls back almost immediately at his flinch, regret painting her face.

"Steve needs something that I can't give him," and I need more than he can give me, it wasn't meant to last".

"I didn't mean to hurt him, but that doesn't mean I'm good with Steve getting hurt again and again, he has enough of that with his parents".

Eddie nods again, "have they always been like that?"

Nancy's face darkens for just a moment before smoothing out again.

"In the year we were together, I met them once," she wraps her arms around herself and shivers as another breeze rips through the clearing, "he always made excuses for why they were gone or when they would be back".

She looks up at Eddie now, her wide blue eyes still red rimmed from earlier, "he told me about you, that night".

Oh.

Suddenly the weighted looks Nancy had been giving him make more sense. The small conspiratorial smile.

"Yeah well, he's been avoiding me," Eddie admits softly, lifting his hand to snag a lock of hair, "so I wouldn't hold your breath".

Nancy nods and shivers against a rough gust of wind that shifts the trees and swirls the leaves around the table. She looks into the distance suddenly, her eyes catching something behind Eddie as they widen before darting back to his face.

He turns his head to look behind him, only to see Hawkins Middle through the trees.

"Steve's good at pretending, but he doesn't have the same kind of friends around him that would just accept that version of him now, he's got us --well," Nancy stutters momentarily, "he's got you, and the kids, I'm pretty sure Dustin thinks Steve's an action here now".

Eddie snorts, prompting a smile out of Nancy. He takes a small step forward before offering his elbow. Nancy looks from his arm to Eddie's face once before reaching out to curl her hands around it.

"Alright Wheeler," he says with a grin, "how do we do this? I know you've got a plan rolling around that brain of yours and I'm cold as shit so let's move this to the van".

Nancy smiles again, tilting her head towards the Middle School once more, "How do you feel about Dances?"

Tag List: Please Note the List is Officially Closed

@lizzicleromance @fairy-princette @eddiethehunted

And a few people I think may be intersted!

@steddierthings @steddie-there @stevesbipanic @henderdads @spooky-brakers

Part Ten Now Up (Final Part)

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