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#hey i hope this is okay!

mrscoultxr · 1 year

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||Starter for @frstwomn

She’d not been on the other side of the window for more than a few minutes when she got her first glimpse at how strange and new this world was. Mrs. Coulter prided herself on being able to adapt to her surroundings almost immediately, and this would be no exception of course, yet… well, she simply couldn’t help but be taken aback by the headlines she saw in the news as she walked briskly by a vendor station on the street. At once, Mrs. Coulter had to catch her breath and steel her nerves, eyes narrowing upon the black font before her.

A woman president. Well then, thought Mrs. Coulter to herself, best not to mention this one to the Consistorial Court. She read on further down the page. There would be an address this afternoon, in this very area. Lovely, she could get a glimpse of this new world in action herself. In the far off edges of her mind, she could feel her daemon’s caution, and though she could not see him with her eyes, she could tell which direction he was hiding so as not to draw attention to the pair. It was as she was departing the newsstand and passing by the local coffee shop that she abruptly collided with several men in black suits. She recognized them immediately for what they were, and with a twinkle in her eye and a thrill in her bones, she took the liberty of making her fall into a show, landing heavily against some of the men. At the same time, the golden monkey darted through the alley, up a tree, and tucked himself into the leaves to get a glimpse of the woman that might be inside.

“Oh dear, you must excuse me gentlemen. I had been looking elsewhere. My sincere apologies,” Mrs. Coulter replied, smoothing her dress out before her and looking at each of the men with a contrite smile. Now, she had to be careful, and not alarm them too greatly –if they truly were a security force, then the wrong move could lead to an entirely new adventure: prison break. A tug at her consciousness brought her attention to focus once more. Had the golden monkey spotted the president? “Are you here for the address this afternoon?”

#frstwomn #{;starter}#hey I hope this is okay!#sorry I know it's a bit all over the place but I really struggled trying to find a reason they'd meet #this was my quick answer to that but I'm always down to plot more things too!#░▒ ╳ I JUST DISAPPEARED; I DO THAT; I MOVE INTO ANOTHER WORLD; A DIFFERENT WORLD;; (verse)

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olympicfated · 2 years

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----- ❝ it’s ... g o r g e o u s, ❞ bella agrees as she eyes the dress suspiciously, unsure if it’s potentially out to get her or not. ❝ but seriously, alice, i’ve only just gotten a hang of those tiny heels that barely count ... so lets drop the stilettos at least. ❞ / @conspectio

#hey i hope this is okay!#i was just thinking maybe they're doin' like a little night out in seattle or something lol #if you want something different tho just give me a holler :3 #conspectio #🌲 ❝ all along there was some invisible string tying you to me ❞ ⸢ verse / main ⸥

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beheamothscreamoth · 3 months

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Genuine Question for the TWST Community!

(Okay, the header sounds super serious, but I promise it's not!)

Twisted Wonderland fandom - You know how Ace and Deuce had to take public transportation to get back to NRC because the magic mirror to Sage Island wasn't working? I saw a fanart piece of these two on a train, and it got the hamster wheel in my brain to turn.

(Credit goes to @letterhyms on Twitter!)

Is there any sort of fanfic out there that has Ace and Deuce travelling together to get back to NRC? Because if there is, I will go FERAL. /pos

You guys don't understand- I need to see these two react to the message Yuu sent in their group chat.

I need to see them panic and contact each other.

I need to see them telling their families that they need to go, and save their friend.

I need to see them trying to grab a taxi with a driver that overcharges them.

I need to see them arguing over which train they need to catch at the station.

I need to see them, like in the fanart, sleeping on the train they just barely managed to catch.

Heck, I need to see them take a bumpy boat ride to Sage Island.

I need to see them bicker. I need to see them worried about Yuu and Grim.

Because what other way is there to start the new year than going on a journey to save your new friends in a closed academy during the holidays? And find out that you missed the entire event while you were getting there, oof-

#okay but you just KNOW that these two didn't plan ahead. At all. They're both scatterbrained 16 year olds /aff #How would that conversation even go with their parents?? “Hey mom/dad I need to go back to school because my friend is being held hostage.”#“Son... What.”#twisted wonderland #twst #twst ace #twst deuce #ace trappola #deuce spade #disney twisted wonderland #Here's to me hoping that this post gains a little bit of traction..!#twisted wonderland ace #twisted wonderland deuce #Scream Posts For: TWST

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hawkinsindiana · 5 months

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here's 5.1k of the first time you see steve cry, some absolutely delicious hurt/comfort courtesy of madame @stevebabey and myself >:) PLS ENJOY

canon to almost paradise, pre s3

—

steve doesn’t know what to do.

his quads are starting to burn; he’s been crouched outside your window for the past couple minutes, but there’s no sign of you. not physically at least — he can hear the faint thump of some pop song echoing through the radio and an open notebook on your desk. you were here.

he should’ve just called. this is stupid. you could be gone for another ten minutes, maybe you’re not even home anymore. he’s drumming his fingers against the sill, praying that none of your neighbors see him as he debates whether to leave or stay. he wants to stay. he needs to see you.

thirty seconds pass before steve spots movement from inside — you enter your room with a cookie wedged between your teeth and another three clasped in your hand. steve can’t help but smile; it’s ridiculous how fond he is of you.

fond… that word doesn’t feel large enough to hold all his feelings for you, but the obvious one seems too damning—

the thought ends abruptly; the treat in your mouth helps to muffle a panicked yelp as you spot steve perched on the other side of your window. steve grimaces even though you’re beginning to laugh and you eat the entire cookie in one bite. he mouths a ‘sorry’ as you start to stride over, setting the other desserts onto your desk before lifting the window up. a burst of chilled, early march air sends a shiver down your spine. you still have crumbs on your lip.

but your smile is wide as you greet him, your posture awkwardly bent over so you can address him eye to eye, “we have to come up with a better system than this. you end up scaring me like… seven times out of ten.”

your teasing warms steve in a way that makes him never want to leave your side. he thinks you’d let him stay there, too.

before steve gets a chance to reply, you’re offering him one of your cookies. it looks like something that your mother made and knowing claudia henderson, he’s pretty confident that means it’s extra sweet.

“want one?”

your voice is just above a whisper, a quiet tone that won’t be overheard by the others inside. given his fragile mental state, steve has to resist withdrawing from your affection. the thoughts in the back of his mind are screaming at him; you’re so happy to love him and share your dessert, meanwhile you’re stuck with him — someone who can’t think about saying that word to you without feeling nauseous. not because of you, but because of what could come after.

maybe some part of what his father said has some truth to it.

but despite all of that, steve still can’t say no to you. he swallows his emotions as he takes your offering with a gracious smile — your eyes sparkle just a little bit more.

“you know i could never turn down a mrs. henderson special,” steve says with his classic charm. he sinks his teeth into the doughy cookie and nearly groans aloud; it’s still warm. this batch must be fresh. steve feels a pang in his chest thinking of your home, lively and bustling — someone’s baking, someone’s studying, music and noise in every room. it’s so starkly different from where he’s just come from.

the sweetness on his tongue isn’t enough to distract him completely from the reason he’s here, his heart desperately seeking you out. you push your window up a little more, just high enough so steve can climb through and he shoves the cookie in his mouth. bracing his hands on the sill to hoist himself up and over, he lands with a loud thump.

“shhh,” you hush, even though you still have that entirely enamored smile on. it’s impossible not to feel a little gooey whenever he does these things, no matter how much you try to contain yourself. your boyfriend sneaking through your window is just so normal and, embarrassingly, something you thought you might never get.

you smother down a laugh at steve’s crouched position, pausing like his quietness will make up for his previous landing. when there’s no reaction, he straightens and dusts off his jacket before eating the rest of the cookie.

“oh my god,” he says, or tries to. it comes out muffled as he chews. he swallows, taking a second to run his hand through his hair before he properly turns to you, “thank god for your mom’s baking, honestly.”

you agree with a quiet hum as your smile grows more smitten. you weren’t expecting to spend any time with him tonight, much to your dismay, so this is a very welcome surprise. cupping steve’s face in between your palms, you take a moment to greet him with a kiss that he graciously returns. the chill that had seeped into his skin is quickly banished with your touch; his ears flush a bright red at how sweet and effortless your affection is. he’s so glad he came to see you.

“hey,” steve mumbles when you pull away, your eyes twinkling upon seeing his blush.

“hey yourself,” you reply, feeling your own face heat up.

you take a couple steps backwards until your thighs hit the edge of your mattress. as you sit down, you continue playfully, “so… what did i do to deserve a visit?”

it’s an easy way to ask. not that steve ever really needs a reason to come see you — you’re that sweet on each other. but something churns uncomfortably in your gut; steve’s not the type of guy to show up without a phone call first. with your words, steve’s face darkens and it’s definitely not the last time you’re going to be disappointed about being right.

it’s now that you realize how he’s dressed. a crisp white collared shirt sits beneath his jacket and a pair of dark slacks hang from his hips. he’s forgone his usual sneakers for some dress shoes. as far as you know, he didn’t have anything this fancy after tonight’s basketball practice. your brow shifts into a minuscule furrow, small enough that it goes unnoticed — so where was he?

steve clears his throat, shoving away the tightness that formed with your question, “my, uh, my dad’s back in town.”

“that’s a surprise,” you say, shifting on top of the comforter, “i thought he wasn’t coming back until next month.”

steve doesn’t speak, but instead acknowledges the similar confusion he had felt with an annoyed expression. you cross your ankles, “and your mom?”

biting his lip, your boyfriend shakes his head.

oh.

steve’s father is not known for being an overwhelmingly caring parent, but rather on the complete opposite end of the spectrum. he’s extremely authoritarian and blunt, with a healthy scoop of entitlement on the side. while you’ve only met him a handful of times, that man has always left you with an aching feeling inside your chest and a wrinkle between your brow; you can’t imagine how steve feels. and considering his mother isn’t here, you know his father’s abrasiveness will be ten times worse, not that her presence has ever stopped him before.

you pray that steve’s night went better than expected, but you can already tell that thought is in vain. there’s a defeated look in his eyes and a familiar weariness in his posture. he looks lost.

like a flashlight in the dark, you extend your hands out to him, beckoning steve to come closer still. he slides his palms into yours almost instantaneously, as if waiting another second would’ve been too difficult for him to bear. he swears the place where your skin meets glows like the evening sun, golden and overwhelmingly warm — a feeling that grows as you gently guide him to your bed. you offer a small and comforting smile as the mattress dips under his added weight; he keeps one of your hands in his.

steve knows you don’t expect him to say anything — he could sit here in silence and you’d gladly indulge him. but he decides that’s not the reason why he came here.

“he was in a rush when i got home. he made dinner reservations for tonight and barely got here in time after his flight,” steve begins, regretfully pulling his eyes from you to focus blankly on the floor, “think i had maybe ten minutes to shower and get dressed.”

he sighs, dragging his hand down his face as he tries to focus on your warmth beside him, “he was just… worse. angrier, louder, more…”

he pauses to try and think of another word to describe his father’s demeanor but finds himself distracted by your grip on his hand, soft yet firm. constant. he gives up, moving his free hand through the air in a dejected motion but you understand perfectly — more of everything.

you tut softly, using your fingers to brush some hair behind his ear before pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“i’m sorry, steve,” you pout, “that sounds awful.”

steve hums a thank you, relishing in the combination of your touch and soft words. having you in his life has made such a difference; it’s hard to imagine what it’d be like without you. the loneliness he would feel… he can barely comprehend it.

you know steve well. there’s a restrained rage that hides just underneath his skin. he’s not telling you everything.

“how…” you trip over your words a little as your fury begins to build. not because of him, but because of how insistent steve’s father is with being cruel. he’s the one who taught steve to doubt himself. it makes you blood boil to think the fire may’ve been stoked tonight.

“how was it? did he say something to you?”

there it is again — the tickle in the back of steve’s throat that he can’t seem to get rid of no matter how hard he tries. it grows after hearing the concern in your tone, the anger on his behalf. he nods once, voice far weaker and wobblier than he would like, “yeah.”

the word sinks into your chest, a deep claw right between your ribs. it aches, all from the way he says it. you’ve seen steve upset before but this… this is something bigger than that. this is a deep wound, one that isn’t easily healed.

but you’re willing to try. you’ll do anything to help him.

giving your palm a quick squeeze, steve reaches for his collar with his free hand as he tries to get his thoughts in order. it’s something you’ve seen him do a thousand times when he’s growing uncomfortable or upset — fiddling with the neckline to give him space to breathe. but it’s only when he tugs on something else do you notice he’s also wearing a tie.

it’s twisted and messy and you wonder if he’s been yanking on it all night. as he tries to work the fabric free, it’s fruitless, his rough motions only succeeding in rubbing the fabric cruelly against his neck. steve grows more frustrated every second, his voice low, “god, fuck—this stupid thing, fuck—”

“hey, hey. here, let me help,” you interrupt, grabbing his wrist to rescue himself from his futile efforts. he’s far too worked up and his fussing is only tightening the knot. steve huffs loudly and surrenders, emotions still running too high and you guide his hand away.

his focus turns to you and steve visibly softens, his shoulders slumping enough that he shrinks a whole inch. he blinks rapidly, his eyes turning away from you again; you decide to focus on the tie.

it’s twisted up, you realize, because it hasn’t been tied properly in the first place. steve knows how to knot a tie — you’d seen him do it many times before. you ignore the worry this fills you with and steel yourself. it’s a fickle thing but you manage, pulling at the tie until the knot finally comes free. the fabric slithers down his chest and you follow it with your palm, a soothing touch.

when your eyes drift back up to his pout, you watch as a single tear falls onto the swell of his cheek. your hand reaches for his face before he gets a chance to move; the tear is quickly removed by the pad of your thumb without a second thought. steve bows his head, hoping to obscure some of this emotion from you, but you won’t let him. you shift as well, eyes desperately searching his face.

“what happened?” you whisper, a gentle coax to see if he wants to talk. if he shakes his head, you’ll leave it. your heart aches profusely as you watch a deep sadness work its way across his face but worst of all, you can tell he’s holding back. it’s almost like he can’t bear to look at you, as if seeing the worry in your expression would push him over the edge. you care about him so much it’s nearly overwhelming; steve can’t remember a time when he mattered this much to someone — where even the hint of a cry was met with an outpouring of love.

you return your hand to his, squeezing gently. your voice is so soft he can barely hear it, “it’s okay, steve. you can— you know i won’t…”

you drift off, struggling to find the most eloquent words. how do you tell your boyfriend he can cry around you without having to actually tell him that?

you swallow the lump in your throat and move your eyes to his hair, taking your fingers and running them through the brunette strands. suddenly, you feel quite nervous yourself.

“i’m still gonna love you.”

a whimper slips out of his throat.

a noise has never broken you so quickly. instantly, you’re kicking your feet up onto the bed to lean into him properly, winding an arm around him and resting your head on his shoulder.

as another tear falls, it seems like it’s followed by hundreds. years of anger and complicated emotions come pouring out into steve’s hands, his face buried in his palms. the only thing you can think to do is sit here and let him cry, a comforting touch placed on both his back and his thigh, reminding him that you’re still here with him. you’re not planning on going anywhere.

“he always says the same stuff so i’m used to it now,” he finally says, pulling his hands away from his face to see his skin wet and stained with tears. he shakes his head in disbelief, relishing in the feeling your warmth brings beside him, until it reminds him of something else. with a clenched jaw, he sniffles, completely defeated, “it’s the shit he said about you that just… pushed it over the edge. i mean—”

steve manages a small laugh, “it’s you. how… how could i not let that get to me? you’re everything and i—”

you try not to let his words affect you but there’s no helping the ripple that shudders across your face, a whirlwind of the worst of your ugly emotions. inside you, there’s a part that wonders constantly about just how much trouble you’re worth — first it was billy and all the shit he’s brought with him, and now steve’s father. you’re ashamed how strongly you feel that perhaps steve would be better off without you, no matter how much he swears it’s worth it, which he does even now as he sobs in your bedroom. the common theme of you, ill-fitted to be in his life, is beginning to wear down on your soul. tonight, it chafes particularly meanly.

but you’re tough. this moment isn’t about you. inhaling sharply, you swallow and it feels like it’s full of nails — the lump instantly regrows when you notice steve stopped speaking and watched your reaction closely. his wet eyes grow mistier and misery seeps into his face, a choked noise forcing its way up his throat. steve smothers it into his hand.

“i’m sorry,” he croaks.

your heart weeps. what is he sorry for? the hand on his back sweeps up, a gentle touch on his head. you brush back his hair, thumbing softly beneath his eyes to brush away the stray tears.

“what’re you apologizing for?” you say low and soft, willing away the wobble in your voice as steve searches your face almost desperately. his eyes look lost. his curled form resembles a child, awoken from a cruel night terror. you ache to help him, to ease the burden.

“s’not your fault,” you assure him in a whisper, pressing closer. your words have the opposite effect, worry hiking a mile high when steve crumbles again — he sags, burying his face in the curve of your neck.

“i’m sorry, i— i’m so sorry,” his words come out all hiccup-y, his breathing too fast and ragged. your arms are around him in an instant, grounding and safe as you pull him in closer. your chin rests on top of his head. steve’s arms shift, wrapping around your middle desperately — his fingers grip tight like you might slip away if he loosened his hold for even a moment. twisted together, steve cries and cries, an endless stream of apologies. you refuse to let it deter you; one hand settles on the back of his head, soothing the hair on the nape of his neck. the other rubs up and down his back, all while you murmur soft assurances for him to hear.

“s’okay, you’re okay,” you say over and over again, working diligently to sooth him, “i’m here, it’s okay.”

steve wishes he knew what he was apologizing for, but part of him understands he’s saying sorry for everything. i’m sorry for mentioning my father finds pleasure in despising you, the only thing that’s ever brought me true happiness. i’m sorry for arriving unannounced. i’m sorry i can’t say ‘i love you’ yet. for the rumors. for your nightmares. for being less than you deserve. for everything we’ve been through together. all of it — a culmination.

several minutes pass before steve’s breathing reaches a regular rhythm and the tears stop all together. his grip on you relaxes over time, slowly understanding that you stayed despite his outburst; his fingers unfurl from the fabric of your shirt. steve sniffles once more, now noticing how tear-stained your clothes have become — more guilt climbs up his throat. it never comes to fruition; instead, he finds himself focusing on the soothing pressure of your touch. the feeling melts away. you shift to press a kiss into the crown of his head. with your nose still buried in his hair, you speak.

“stay here tonight. please.”

your hold on him tightens a bit more, your eyes watering as you think of him returning to his father and away from any comfort you can bring him, “i don’t want you going back there. not tonight.”

somehow, steve manages to burrow deeper into your skin, his arms around you squeezing comfortably. more light blooms in him as the intention behind your words trickles down into his heart — you are his home now. he nods weakly, swallowing the pain for another time. right now, he simply feels like resting in your embrace.

“okay.”

“yeah?” you ask, slowly beginning to unfurl yourself from him; you want to see his face. with a bit of coaxing, you gently guide his head away from his hiding place and smile softly, wiping the leftover tears from his cheeks. upon seeing the care for him in your eyes, he can’t help but confirm, his hands smoothing down along your back in appreciation.

“yeah.”

he's beautiful, even when he's a mess. the tip of his nose is a ruddy red and it's running terribly. tears cling to his eyelashes, sparkling beneath the low-light lamp of your room. you press a quick kiss to his temple, same as you've done a thousand times before, and lean backward. your touch never leaves him as you locate your tissue box, steve sniffling loudly as you grab a dozen.

in an attempt to either make him smile or feel extra loved, you hold one in front of his nose and say, "blow?"

"gimme those," steve guffaws, his free hand coming up to snatch them from your grip. he blows his nose and it toots noisily like a trumpet, making you laugh. he sounds a bit nasally when he speaks again, his eyes fond as he looks at you.

"can blow my own nose, thank you."

you nod with a soft hum just to tease him. he blows his nose once again, clearing it all out and takes the other tissues when you offer them, scrubbing at his waterlogged face. he smiles gratefully at you and then heaves a great big sigh, shoulders rising and falling, before he slumps backwards to lie back on your bed.

"who knew crying was so exhausting?" he mumbles, the question meant more to himself.

you scoop up one of his feet and plant it in your lap, beginning to undo his laces. you can’t say you like his fancy shoes.

"i did," you jibe back. you poke his ankle, aiming for one of his moles, "why'd you think i'm always napping in your arms after i bawl my eyes out?"

steve watches your hands, sliding his shoe off and moving onto the other dutifully. you're making him more comfortable and you do it without even being asked. another wave of tears threatens him again because you love him like it's easy — steve has spent most of his life being told the exact opposite.

"thought that was more to do with my, y’know, rugged arms than the crying part..." he admits jokingly, thankful when it makes you giggle a bit. you shrug, faking indifference but it earns you a smile.

after you finish taking off his other shoe, you place his feet down so you can crawl up to him. you stop and settle with your chin on his chest and steve has to put a hand behind his head to prop himself up to properly see you. you're quietly in thought, staring at him intensely. steve feels his heart quiver — you're awfully good at reading him. at seeing him and knowing him.

"d'you wanna talk about it? what… what he said?" your words come out soft again, low as a whisper, even though it's just the two of you here.

another sigh leaves steve, your head on his chest moving with the exhale. he glances up to the ceiling as he contemplates whether or not he wants to continue this conversation. upon meeting your eyes, he knows you'll do nothing but listen. his free hand drops to your arm, fingers lovingly curling around your bicep.

"it was mostly the same shit, like i said," steve shrugs in both acceptance and defeat, "so usually i can just stay quiet. it doesn't get to me as much if i don't try to fight it, y'know?"

you hum softly in understanding, gaze still locked on his expression as he pauses to nibble on his bottom lip.

"except this time, he uh..." steve expels another deep breath as he thinks back on what was said and his reaction. he scoffs, "well, he's definitely figured out what we are, that's for sure."

he ends his sentence with a slight laugh and a squeeze to your muscle. adorably, you grin and roll your head to the side; steve swears he can feel you blush with your cheek pressed to his chest.

"that's one less person we gotta tell i guess."

steve chuckles and you do too, both of you happy to find some humor in this god awful circumstance. but the joy is short-lived as he recalls the dinner; the delight in his father's eyes at finally finding his son's breaking point, how steve's food grew cold as his appetite quickly left him. he could eat another ten of your mom's cookies. then the familiar anger begins to bubble up again — he clenches down on his teeth.

"i could've punched him, baby. i... fuck, i should've," he mutters, his head shaking slightly in disbelief, remembering the absolute fury that controlled him in those tense moments. it's just like it was that night at the byers — maybe worse than that, if it’s even possible.

first, there was a comment about how you’re his only friend now. it was said with such a disgusted tone that steve had to take offense — his father made it sound like befriending you was somehow affecting his reputation. apparently the henderson name doesn’t carry enough weight around town, and what it does carry isn’t something the harringtons should be associated with. as if it matters to steve — he’d rather be accepted by your family than anyone else in this stupid town.

but as steve finally fought back to defend you, it became clear what steve’s true feelings for you entail. he’s never defended anyone from his father’s wrath.

halfway through you being compared to nancy wheeler — “now she comes from a good american family” — steve realized that his father knows.

he’s not sure who told him or how much he heard, but it hit steve harder than billy’s punch did. one little comment about your ‘promiscuity’ was all he needed to confirm the suspicion. it took every ounce of willpower steve had in him to not choke out his father with the tablecloth.

something steve's learning is the intense grip you have on his emotions — both the positive and negative ones. he's sure that's not entirely healthy but he could care less. he never wants that passion for you to disappear.

steve continues, "and yeah, yeah, i know he's just trying to get a rise outta me but jesus christ..."

silence follows as he trails off, refusing to tell you any more. you don’t deserve to hear any of that repeated. you're still studying steve, eyes drifting along the slopes of his face to catch any sign of another tear. thankfully, he seems fairly composed this time around — frustration taking the place of his sadness. but when he meets your gaze again, it softens back into gratitude and affection. neither of you are able to look away.

steve's hand moves up to your face, his fingers deftly tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear; his voice is overflowing with fondness, "pretty sure you're my carbonite."

you, however, do not react as he expected. your face instantly wrinkles in confusion, propping yourself up as you try to decipher what he means. some mixture of a scoff and a laugh leaves your lips as you realize what he meant. he's lucky you find it endearing.

"steve, it's kryptonite, not carbonite."

"that's the same word."

you giggle again, “no it’s not—”

“they end with the same sound, it’s close enough,” steve bickers back, “besides, you understood what i said anyways.”

a sigh leaves your lips as you meet his eyes, your cheeks aching from how wide your grin is, “i did, but how about i be the one who makes the nerdy references in this relationship.”

steve raises his hands, “hey, you’re not gonna hear me complain’.”

another laugh from you. steve’s expression shifts back to one of affection, “i mean it though, y’know. you have this… hold on me that i’m still trying to figure out. it’s crazy. you know any non-nerdy words to describe that?”

you hum and nod, your smile wistful. your chest tightens.

“yeah, i think i do.”

the look in your eyes gives away the answer. steve swallows — his mouth suddenly feels extremely dry.

to combat any awkwardness before it begins, you immediately get up to grab the other cookies you’d forgotten about. you share them between you, careful not to get too many crumbs on your bed. while steve dutifully watches, you take another twenty minutes to finish your physics homework before you begin your typical bedtime routine.

coming back after your shower to see your boyfriend shirtless and comfortable beneath your blankets is not a sight you will be forgetting anytime soon. as you crawl into bed with him, it takes a ridiculous amount of self control not to stare at the thatch of chest hair that’s been growing over the past couple months. he’s so warm and has a pink tint in his cheeks that makes you swoon; you decide that he looks positively adorable.

as you settle in beside him after adjusting the pillows and turning out the light, you can’t help but pick at his thoughts.

“you gonna be okay?”

steve nods, his hair mussing against the pillow, “yeah, i don’t give a shit about what he says.”

now that his emotions are back to their regular balance, he’s much more indifferent. he can see it clearly and understands that none of it is his fault. there’s nothing steve can do to prevent how his father feels; that isn’t a burden he needs to carry.

he shifts beneath the covers, his leg finding yours. your feet are chilly. he smiles as he reaches out for you, tucking one of his arms beneath the pillows so he can pull you in closer. steve curls the other around your torso, his palm laying flat against your back while you tangle your legs together. it’s awfully snug and you’re sure he can feel your heart pounding.

“i’ll be alright as long as i have you,” he mumbles, taking a moment to let his eyes gently rove over your face. you force yourself to hold back your smile so you don’t look like a total dork, but it’s awfully difficult. you figure you probably look positively in-love regardless.

“well, it’s a good thing i’m not planning on going anywhere, hm?”

steve seals the sentiment with a kiss — the best way he knows to ensure you’re confident that he feels the same. he lets the tips of your noses touch after pulling away and brings his palm up to your face. his eyes are almost jet black in the dark; only a sliver of chocolate brown remains, thanks to the streetlight outside your window.

“thank you,” he whispers, “for everything.”

your body heats up from both his touch and his words. it’s almost too much for you to handle. but you answer him all the same and with a genuine smile, “of course. any time.”

with a final kiss to your forehead, steve properly cuddles you in close to him, his nose buried into your hair. as you curl your arm around him, inhaling the scent of his cologne, rest finds you both soon after.

#i had the best day of my life seeing taylor swift and then i immediately was like hey ruby i wanna make steve cry wanna join in?#and she said yes :)#ANYWAYS I HOPE THOSE OF YOU THAT VOTED FOR THIS LIKED IT OKAY ILY!!!!!!#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #almost paradise #almost paradise blurbs

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mikrotyalm13 · 30 days

Text

everything about Gavriil feels suffocating.

how his presence alone can be almost overwhelming, how his massive body cages you everytime without a chance to escape. you wouldn't dare to try anyway, knowing that you don't even have a say against a creature of his caliber. he will find you. in your dreams, in your nightmares. in your room.

how he will be intense and vague about everything just for the sake of it; to confuse you further, to see the conflict of emotions in your eyes merge with arousal. eventually your hesitance turns into acceptance, a desperate need to feel his hands all over you. and he will be oh so grateful to fulfill that desire.

how his thick tongue pushes past your lips and into your mouth, reaching almost the back of your throat, relishing in the muffled little sounds you make. your drool mixed with his saliva drips down your chin, and your hazy eyes look up at him when he finally pulls away, giving you a second to breathe.

how his hips are slamming into you relentlessly, your wetness and lack of resistance allowing him to move almost effortlessly. forced to hold onto him for dear life instead of pushing away. all of your morals and principles are being tossed out of the window every single time he comes to you. he has you where he wants you, and will not stop until he feels like you can't take it anymore.

and how in the morning he vanishes away, leaving you guessing: was it just another wet dream? but the cold stickiness between your legs tells you more than you need to know.

#yes bringing this back bc at the time i didn't tag it properly #okay im gonna complain in here now.#need... to... draw... something... but i dont... have the strength..#drawing on my phone is so exhausting but i have no other option #bc i think my traditional art is not very polishedddd and i dont want to answer asks with ittttt #but maybe i will #bc i think i'm really getting to that burnout #and giving how my bday is getting closer and closer....#i dread it. but hey. cake. money. i'll get a new piercing #i WILL cry ofc but hey. maybe someone will buy me tea as a gift. who knows.#i just want to spend some time with someone yknow:(#just... talk. about anything. sit beside eachother and stare off into the waters #i hope the snow will melt soon because i want to go out more even if by myself #gonna find a job when summer comes... maybe talking to colleagues and all that will help... everythings gonna be fine.. i hope #i just need friends. god.#microtya's kids #monsterfucker #monster fucker #monster x human #monster boyfriend #monster lover #teratophillia #god x human #monster smut

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daffi-990 · 1 month

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Seven(ish) Sentence Sunday ✍️

Tagged by @diazsdimples @giddyupbuck and @wikiangela. Thank you lovelies mwah 😘

Have a little something from LA Lonely -> this is after the fun and orgasms of Buck and Eddie’s hook up. Still don’t know if I’m going to go full spice 🌶️ or just do a quick little run down of things.

Prev snippet & mood board here

Buck expects him to start pulling his clothes on and to give him the whole “this was fun, but I gotta bounce” speel, but Eddie surprises him by climbing back into bed and nudging Buck to roll onto his side so Eddie can scoot up behind him and hold him.

Buck freezes for a moment because no one does this. They have their fun and then they leave. They don’t stay and they definitely don’t cuddle.

Eddie must feel him go tense because his hold loosens and he moves as if he’s about to pull away. “Is this okay?”

Buck grabs at the arms that are wrapped around him, stopping Eddie’s descent. “Y-yeah. It’s-it’s okay.” He pulls at Eddie’s arms and the man settles back behind him, burrowing his face into the juncture where Buck’s neck meets his shoulder as he shuffles closer.

Soft kisses are pressed into his skin and Buck is helpless but to relax back into Eddie, letting the comfort and warmth of whatever is happening wrap around him.

“Stay?” He whispers, not sure if Eddie can hear him but not being brave enough to say it any louder. He feels like he’s asking too much.

A kiss behind his ear. “Okay.”

No pressure tagging: @hippolotamus @puppyboybuckley @exhuastedpigeon @spotsandsocks @devirnis @wikiangela @hoodie-buck @honestlydarkprincess @homerforsure @monsterrae1 @missmagooglie @mellaithwen @nmcggg @lover-of-mine @ladydorian05 @loserdiaz @bekkachaos @wildlife4life @watchyourbuck @weewootruck @elvensorceress @eddiebabygirldiaz @evanbegins @rewritetheending @rainbow-nerdss @captain-hen @jeeyuns @jesuisici33 @glorious-spoon @fortheloveofbuddie @fiona-fififi @disasterbuckdiaz @thewolvesof1998 @try-set-me-on-fire @theotherbuckley @steadfastsaturnsrings @tizniz @athenagranted @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @spagheddiediaz @sunshinediaz and as always, anyone else who wants to share something -> consider this your tag ☺️

#daffi writes #wip: la lonely #buddie wip #buddie #besides posting yesterday I’ve been a bit quiet with wip tag games.#There’s some heavy shit going on in part of my extended family which has emotionally sucker punched me and my husband #Creative energy is running on exhaust fumes which makes me sad cos I felt like I’d just gotten my rhythm back.#so when this idea hit me and some words flowed … I ran with it #I’m still tip tap tying away Rivals 🚒. It’s just going slower than I want #even this new wip is going slower than I want #but hey I can’t rush things and my brain is doing its best right now #*kisses brain gently*#I’m trying to look after me and I hope you’re trying to look after you as best you can which can look different day to day #you’re doing amazing and ily ❤️#okay I’ve finished my very long speel in the tags xx #ps. please keep tagging me in things .. I love supporting and cheering on my pocket pals 🥰

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naffeclipse · 6 months

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Apex Polarity Personality Quiz

This is a small little thing for fun I made in order to have an excuse to make more things for Apex Polarity and its wide aurora of AUs and variations on setting and Y/Ns.

1. Claws, teeth, ravenous appetite, equally as devouring gaze.

To you these qualities describe -

A. A dangerous wild animal

B. Potential husband

C. The stalker who keeps leaving dead things at your address

D. All of the above

E. Are you in danger?

F. Circle if you need help

G. Yes

2. What you look for most in a partner

A. Obsessive feral devotion

B. Good with kids

C. Humble

D. Passionate

E. Good hunter

F. Bear trap level cuddler

G. Serial mental note taker on everything you say and do

H. Overprotective to a fault, perhaps very much at a fault.

3. Your favorite pastime.

A. Immersion in nature and being out in the wilderness

B. A cold dip in the sea

C. Basking in the sun

D. Acting like you're a dolphin

E. Curling up in a warm space

F. Spending quality time with your loved ones

G. The joys of parenthood

4. Your preferred superpower (totally not escape methods)

A. Teleportation

B. Super speed

C. Invisibility

D. Shapeshifting

5. Your favorite animal/animal you resonate with the most

A. Arctic fox, phantomlike and swift, hiding behind snowdrifts when danger stirs. Your instinct is to avoid the grip of vices no matter how tempting, except perhaps if your stomach is involved.

B. Penguin, despite the cold weather and unforgiving ice, you are soft at your epicenter, from inside it radiates, and like a mirror you are equally as besotted by that which is as innocent and gentle.

C. Beluga, spun sweet and melodic, on your voice is carried the play of heartstrings like the gentle waver of quivering arctic waters and dancing sunlight. You sing and although it is fearless, the depths do not murmur in vain.

D. Seal, eccentric and woven into everything you do, you tend to stumble over your nerves but when in your element you are freed from all anxieties. The world may have taught you caution but In time you may learn to embody this grace wholly.

E. Narwhal, reclusive but mystical at the same time, perilously shy, and gentle but possessing fierce zeal in dire situations. Unfortunately, your likeness to a unicorn is reflected in others and far from many intentions are pure.

6. What is the most valuable in your eyes

A. Sentimental things even long years after they've run dry of their practical use

B. Shiny objects like rocks and trinkets

C. Natural wonders and displays of the world's phenomena

D. Food and guaranteed survival

E. Companionship

Score

Count how many like numbers you get (aka, all 4s, 2s, etc) and group them to find how many you got each. The highest quantity number is the winner.

(Important!) - Some answers can have multiple numbers assigned to them, in order of most indicative to least. Add these as well, their order has no meaning or weight on the score itself unless a tie occurs.

Further Explanation Guide

- Totaling - Count the amount of each number separately to see which one got the highest amount, if you get 7 4s, 2 3s, 4 1s and 6 2s, 4 is the winning number because there are the most 4s.

Example - Answered D on 1, D has the numbers 1, 4, and 3. Therefore you would add each a 1, 4 and 3 to the pool of numbers for your result.

- Ties - If you get a tie you use the highest favor number of each answer to settle it, or you can enjoy your multiple results. The most favored number is always the first listed.

Answer Guide

- 1. Claws, teeth, ravenous appetite, equally as devouring gaze. To you these qualities describe -

A - 4, 3 | B - 3, 4 | C - 2, 1, 4 | D - 1, 4, 3

E - 4, 1, 2 | F - 1, 2, 4 | G - 4, 3

- 2. What you look for most in a partner

A - 4 | B - 3, 1, 4, 2 | C - 3, 2, 4 | D - 4, 1

E - 3, 1, 2 | F - 3, 2 | G - 4, 1 | H - 2, 1, 3

- 3. Your favorite pastime

A - 4, 3, 1, 2 | B - 3, 2 | C - 2 | D - 3, 1

E - 4, 2, 3 | F - 3 | G - 3

- 4. Your preferred superpower (totally not escape methods)

A - 4 | B - 3 | C - 2 | D - 1

- 5. Your favorite animal/animal you resonate with the most

A - 1 | B - 3 | C - 1, 2| D - 2 | E - 4, 1

- 6. What is the most valuable in your eyes

A - 4, 3 | B - 1, 3 | C - 4 | D - 1, 2, 3 | E - 3, 2, 4

Results

📷 Polar Y/N - Mostly 4s

🐧 Harpy Y/N - Mostly 3s

🦭 Selkie Y/N - Mostly 2s

🧜 Siren Y/N - Mostly 1s

Let me know if anything felt inaccurate or incorrect. I tried my best while still not reading much of AP because of mental health issues making it really too taxing to read a lot like as in books or fanfiction etc. Most of this is based on the various AU posts for Apex Polarity. You can adjust stuff if you feel like it doesn't fit.

#hey i hope it's okay that i made this a poll!!!#i'm just so enthralled by this!!!#i would love to see the results from everyone!#your number and tallying system is interesting #it took me a minute but when I figured it out I really enjoy it!#i like that the answers can have aspects of each possible result #it feels more real that way!#anyways thanks i love this #apex polarity #inkofheart #poll

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piratekane · 1 year

Note

7! Ava telling Bea that🫠🫠

seven: look at me. just breathe.

Ava looks small. She always has, despite feeling larger than life. But in a wide hospital bed with wires running from her body to the various beeping machines, she looks smaller than she did before she slipped through the Arc.

Before you sent her through it.

Beatrice stands at the edge of the doorway, wringing her hands as Jillian flutters around Ava with purposeful hands. Ava looks tired, but impossibly cheerful as Jillian puts another electrode pad on her exposed skin. She keeps stealing glances at the doorway, keeps ducking her head to meet Beatrice’s eyes, and always frowning a little when Beatrice gives nothing away.

She’s afraid to step forward, afraid to meet Ava’s eyes. What if this is a dream? What if she’s fallen asleep and woken up in a dream world where everything has magically fallen into place? Ava escaping Reya’s realm the moment Beatrice crosses the threshold of Cat’s Cradle? It’s too… perfect. It slots together too neatly.

She can’t cross the threshold because she might wake up in a hotel room somewhere - Cinque Terre, Faro, Lisbon - and this has all been a trick of the mind, a quiet torturous place her mind has found.

“Beatrice?”

Jillian touches her arm gently, trying not to startle her. Beatrice holds onto herself, a sharp inhale the only thing that gives her surprise away. But either Jillian doesn’t hear or she’s too kind to bring attention to it. She simply gives Beatrice a kind smile and slight tilt of her head. A quiet, she’s asking for you.

Beatrice searches for the part of her that’s always stood tall in the face of adversity. It wasn’t always there, grown out of a necessity, but it activates now as she takes that first step into the room on feet that feel steadier than her heart does. The live wire edge in her chest fizzles a little when she sees the way Ava’s face lights up as she moves closer and her hesitation simply vanishes.

Ava smiles wider. “Hi.”

Hi feels too small. Hey feels too informal. I’ve been thinking of you every minute of every day for the last nine months and you’re a ghost haunting all of my waking moments and sleeping ones too and I think I’ve been waiting for you my whole life feels too big.

She settles for a quiet, “Hello.”

Ava’s nose wrinkles. “Hello,” she echoes, pitching her voice slightly deeper. A clumsy attempt at mimicking her accent. She blinks up at Beatrice expectantly. “Anything else?” she asks after a moment.

“You’re back.” Everything else she wants to say sticks in her throat.

“I am.” Ava tips her head curiously, keen eyes studying her. Beatrice wonders if she sees the new highlights in her hair, the added years Beatrice sees when she looks at herself in the mirror. “I mean, I wasn’t expecting a party, or anything. Maybe a banner or a cupcake. Though, I get that it was kind of an impromptu arrival and there wasn’t a lot of time to plan. I mean, it’s not like you guys have a ‘Welcome Back to Earth’ banner on hand, right?” She pauses again. “I was expecting more than hello, though.”

Restraint, Beatrice, her mother used to tell her. Show some restraint. When she spoke out of turn, became too excited - it was always whip-sharp eyes in her direction, reminding her to practice some self-discipline. Ava, on the other end of the long spectrum between what is expected and what isn’t, is the least restrained person Beatrice has ever met.

Beatrice, months separated from Ava’s influence, struggles to find a middle ground.

“Seriously.” Ava laughs. She sounds nervous. “They didn’t, like, replace you with a pod person or anything, did they?” Her eyes widen. “Is this some kind of alternate reality where people are different? Are you really Beatrice? Or are you her evil twin? Is this world run by toads? I had a dream once where there was a toad king who demanded we all speak in ribbits. Or is it croaks? Hey, can you look up the sound toads make? I think I missed that science lesson.”

“Ava,” Beatrice breathes. Fond exasperation is easy to fall into.

Ava grins rakishly. “Ah, there she is.”

Beatrice opens her mouth to scold her, to tell Ava that she’s not as funny as she thinks she is, but she’s horrified when a single sob loosens from somewhere in the back of her throat and explodes into the space between them.

They both look startled at the sound, but Ava recovers quicker than she does. She curses softly when she tries to move, wires tangling up around her wrists. She starts to try and move them out of her way, her legs swinging over the side of the bed as she starts to inch towards Beatrice. She looks up, forehead pulled together in frustration. “Hold- just hold on.”

Beatrice claps her hand down over her mouth, trying to stop the next horrible sound that comes out of it. She holds out her other hand, trying to tell Ava to stay back. No, no, no. This isn’t how this was supposed to go.

Ava curses again, louder and in Portuguese this time, as another wire comes undone and loops its way around her arm instead. “I swear to fucking God and all her shitty decisions that if this thing doesn’t- Ha!” She wiggles out of one wire, then a second. She smiles triumphantly at Beatrice but that wrinkle in her forehead hasn’t faded away.

Something starts beeping as Ava disconnects the next wire. There’s a moment where they both stand, suspended as they wait for Ava to suddenly collapse onto the floor, that one wire the only thing keeping her up. But nothing comes and Ava must decide that it’s the all-clear; she starts pulling at wires until they disconnect, creating a cacophony of noise that feels like a mis-paced symphony.

“Hold on, hold on,” Ava is muttering as she pulls the last wire free. She’s suddenly in front of Beatrice, hands out in front of her carefully. “Hey, Bea.”

Beatrice’s eyes dart around the room. It’s starting to narrow to a pinprick, the lights spinning around. Ava is the only thing staying still, her focal part as the rest of the room rushes in on her. Another sob starts to build in her throat but it gets stuck there, forming into a hard knot that makes it hard to swallow around.

Breathe, she tells herself. Just take a breath.

“Look at me. Just breathe,” Ava says quietly. She takes a hesitant step forward. “I think- Bea, I think you’re having a panic attack.”

Beatrice tries to shake her head. She tries, but she’s not sure that she does. Her body feels far away, like she’s swimming underwater from one end of an endless pool to the other. The beeping of the machines distorts into a heartbeat, but that might just be the blood rushing in her ears. She tries to inhale and chokes on that knot.

“Okay, just follow my voice.” Ava sounds closer, but Beatrice can’t quite say how close she is. The room is starting to stretch out like a funhouse mirror. “Bea, uh, okay. Okay. I’m going to touch you. I know, you might freak out. But I’m going to put my hands on your hands, okay? Just like… just like this.”

She feels something cool and soft land on the wrist of her outstretched arm. It becomes a focal point. She focuses all of her energy there, all of her remaining senses rush to the spot where Ava’s fingertips curl around her pulse point.

Ava makes a noise that sounds like a hum just under the hot whistle of air in Beatrice’s ears. “Good. Now the other hand.”

Another cool hand touches hers, pulling it away from her mouth. She lets her world dial down to just the feather-light touch of Ava’s hand tangling with hers, lets herself focus in on the soft pads of Ava’s fingers running over the silvery scars on her hands. Each brush against her knuckle breaks down the knot in her throat until she can take in a ragged breath, then another, then one more.

The world begins to expand again - light filtering back in, the beeping stretching out into its asynchronous rhythm, the slightly sterile smell of clean cotton on the hospital bed. She focuses all of her attention on Ava, though. On the soft soothing noises Ava is making, the heat coming off her body as she gets closer, the strange patterns Ava is rubbing into her wrist.

“Hey,” Ava says quietly in the spaces between the beeping. “Hey, there you are.”

“I’m sorry,” she croaks, graceless.

Ava’s eyes are wide, but kind as they come into focus. Beatrice could count the inches between them on two hands. “You don’t need to apologize. I don’t think either of us expected this.”

“I should have.” She inhales again, the exhale a little steadier. “I should have been expecting this.”

“Beatrice, I mean this in the nicest way.” Ava ducks her head just a little, meeting her gaze directly. “This is a compliment, okay? You are not perfect. You cannot anticipate everything. And you shouldn’t be expected to do that. So it’s okay, alright? It’s okay that you didn’t anticipate some scientific marvel spitting me back into reality. I think I can forgive you for that, hmm?”

“Okay,” she whispers, not believing it entirely. But Ava looks so convincing, she lets the idea sit and tries to believe it could be true. “I’m-”

“Don’t apologize,” Ava says quickly. “This is a no-sorry party. Apologies department is closed for… the rest of eternity. No need to leave a message.” She strokes her thumb against the back of Beatrice’s hand before her eyes widen in mock-surprise. “Maybe this is an alternate reality where I’m not funny anymore.”

“Your jokes were always mediocre at best,” she manages.

Ava grins. “She speaks. And she lies.” Ava’s expression softens and she pulls until Beatrice can count the inches on one hand now. They’re nearly nose to nose and Beatrice can see the thin skin over Ava’s collarbone, just a little more pronounced this close up. “You’re okay.”

Beatrice takes in a slow, measured breath. “You’re here,” she exhales.

“All 238 bones of me.” Ava’s mouth falls into a serious line. “I’m including teeth, of course.”

She can’t help the laugh that bubbles up from her unexpectedly. Get control of yourself, her mother’s voice hisses. But Ava is looking at her, pleased. It sends her mother to the back of her head, back behind Ava’s smile.

“You had your wisdom teeth removed,” she reminds Ava gently.

Ava’s mouth falls open slightly. “How did you-” Her eyes narrow, but she’s smiling. “No stone unturned for you people, hmm? I bet Sister Frances kept those teeth, too. You know, Diego and I always thought she had some kind of creepy collection of, like, teeth and hair. She seemed the type.” Her fingers start working over Bea’s hands and up towards her elbows as she carefully starts to guide them around her back.

“Ava,” Beatrice tries.

“I don’t know about you,” Ava says quietly. “I don’t know how long it’s been since-”

“Too long,” Beatrice breathes. Eight months, twenty-three days, and somewhere around three hours, she doesn’t say out loud.

“But it’s been even longer for me,” Ava finishes. “And, I’ll be honest, okay? I really missed Mother Superion and Camila and, yeah, okay, parts of Lilith. But you were the only thing that kept me going. So I’m going to hug you and you’re going to hug me and then I’m going to pass out, if that’s okay with you?”

Beatrice startles a little, their forehead nearly knocking as she grabs Ava tightly and holds her against her body. Ava seems to sigh into the hug, her forehead dropping into the curve of Beatrice’s neck, her hands gripping the back of Beatrice’s shirt tight enough to crease the carefully ironed fabric. She grows heavy nearly instantly and Beatrice almost sways under the sudden weight.

“I’m-”

“Shut up,” Ava murmurs. Beatrice feels the words more than she hears them. “Just, be quiet, okay? I’ve been imagining this for years.”

Years, she thinks. But she goes quiet again, pressing her lips to Ava’s hair. She breathes in something bleach-like, like the ozone burning. She carefully inches forward, Ava’s abandoned bed her destination. She can hear her heart beating against her rib cage, but Ava’s own heart seems to be answering in its own language.

She starts to loosen her grip on Ava, intending to convince her that she should lay back down, let Beatrice reattach all of the wires monitoring her vitals, let Beatrice go and find Jillian to make sure they didn’t mess everything up. But when she goes to loosen her grip, Ava hangs on.

“Don’t,” Ava whispers. “Don’t let go yet.”

Beatrice holds on tighter; doesn’t tell Ava she has no intention of ever letting go again.

#warrior nun #avatrice #ava silva #sister beatrice #tw: panic attack #this is just an entire fic i am sorry #beatrice needs a break okay?#i might use this again in a larger fic tbh because it immediately gave me a hundred ideas #but hey it's my writing so i can do what i want #*said in my 7-year-old's voice*#anyway writing this was a lot out of me #i hope if you read it you enjoy it

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