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dwobbitfromtheshire · 10 months

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Eddie and Steve slept together for the first time before Eddie left to travel with his band. Was it a weird time to start a relationship? Sure, but Eddie was just glad it happened at all. He called from the road as often as he could. It was a few weeks later that Eddie received a phone call from Steve. He had sounded off, so Eddie dropped everything and started heading back to Hawkins. He decided to surprise Steve with his favorite flowers.

Eddie crept into the house carefully, tip toeing, so he didn't make a sound. He heard voices coming from the living room. It sounded like Robin. Eddie grinned and crept closer, making sure he stayed hidden. Their conversation prevented him from jumping out.

"Okay, we're really going to do this," Steve said with a sigh. "Yeah, I'm pregnant. I got knocked up by Eddie."

"I knew it!" Robin said with a dramatic grasp. "I just want you to know that I'm not mad that you've made me a godmother at such a young age. I'm here for you. So, like what are you going to do?"

"I'm keeping the baby. I just don't know how I'm going to tell Eddie," Steve said. "He's been having such a fun time traveling with his band. I don't want to railroad that."

"Wait. . .you're serious," Robin said. "Um, okay, well, Eddie loves you, so I know for a fact that it wouldn't kill him that you're having his baby."

Eddie's eyes widened, and he crept out of the house. He ran towards his van and drove off, missing the other half of the conversation.

"I'm not fucking pregnant, Robin!" Steve yelled. "It's food poisoning."

"So, it's just a coincidence that you're getting sick a few weeks after having sex with Eddie?" Robin asked, narrowing her eyes. "Especially knowing how much you want to have kids."

"So, you think that I just willed it into existence?" Steve asked and then paused. "You know, my menstrual cycle was a little late this month."

"Really?!"

"No! I don't have a menstrual cycle, Robin!"

". . .is it because you're pregnant?"

"Robin!"

"Don't be so hormonal, Steven."

Meanwhile, Eddie had pulled off to the side of the road. He was freaking out, and it had nothing at all to do with the fact that he had driven all night, so he wasn't thinking straight. Steve was pregnant. Steve was having his baby. How in the fuck did this happen? The only way this could have happened would be because of the bat bites. They changed them, and now they could get pregnant. Oh God, does this mean that Eddie would have to start taking birth control?

"Focus, Munson," Eddie said and slapped his face. "This isn't about you. This is about Steve."

He drove off to the store and thought about the fact that he was going to be a dad. He smiled at the image of himself laying his head on Steve’s big belly and then of them holding their baby. Eddie hollered as he skipped into the store and went to the counter.

"Give me your biggest fucking bear," Eddie said with a grin.

"Uh, celebrating, sir?" The clerk asked.

"I'm going to be a daddy!" Eddie exclaimed.

"Congratulations, sir."

As he started walking out with his purchase, Dustin's head popped out from the aisle.

"Eddie?!"

Eddie strolled into Steve’s house, the bear in his arms.

"Honey, I'm home!" Eddie exclaimed, bursting into the living room.

"Eddie?!"

Steve grinned in surprise. He was laid on the couch, curled up under a blanket, while Robin sat in the recliner next to him.

"You sounded off on the phone, so I drove all night to come and see you," Eddie said, dropping to the floor next to him. "I'm yours now and forever."

"Aww," Robin said.

"You sound like you're proposing," Steve sniffled. "Is that bear for me?"

"If you want me to propose, but I'd want us to get married for the right reasons, you know, not just because I knocked you up," Eddie said.

"Wait. What?" Steve asked.

"I know, sweetheart. I overheard you when I came in here earlier, and I want you to know that I so want to be involved," Eddie said.

"I told you that I heard someone!" Steve exclaimed, sitting up. "Eddie, you heard half of that conversation. Did you miss the part where I told Robin I am not pregnant?"

"I am so tired," Eddie whined. "And I thought the bats. . ."

"Gave you guys babies instead of rabies?" Robin asked, and Eddie nodded.

"Shit, you did say you drove all night," Steve said. "Baby, get up here."

Eddie climbed on the couch behind him, dropping the bear, and buried his face into the pillow.

"Are you sure you're not pregnant?" Eddie asked sleepily.

"Do I need to take a fucking pregnancy test?" Steve asked, mostly to himself.

"It wouldn't hurt," Robin said.

Steve flipped her off as Eddie's snores drifted through the air. He laid down next to him and threw the blanket over the blanket over them.

"Robin. . .," Steve said slowly. "Are you being this way because you're obsessed with the Godfather, and you want to be the Godmother?"

". . .No."

Steve did not believe her.

Part two

#stranger things #eddie munson #stranger things s4 #joseph quinn #eddie stranger things #eddie munson lives #steve harrington #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fanfiction #steddie ficlet #steddie crack fic #just a bit of a crack fic #robin buckley #robin & steve #platonic soulmates #platonic with a capital p

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stevebabey · 6 months

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this is pure stupid hell crack that took more time than it should’ve to finish BUT i’m ready 2 release it from my drafts <3 this is actually technically written partially w @corrodedcoughin in mind bcos i think u will mighty enjoy it! for cockney eddie!

It comes with the territory, the accents.

Drama kid or dungeon-master, either one could be credited with contributing heavily to his affinity for all of Eddie’s little voices.

There was the deep, low raspy one reserved for trolls in campaigns — and a nasally high one he used for goblins to pair. Wise wizards giving out crucial advice sometimes had a strong Scottish drawl to their words. And Dwarfs? Always English.

So, yeah, Eddie has a couple different accents in his different repertoire. Pulls them out as he needs — a regal tone when referring to Hawkin’s very own royalty or a buried Southern twang used when he’s in trouble with Wayne. The most common is a shoddy Cockney accent for when any conversation dips too far towards awkward or boring.

It's why it's not so surprising anymore when they just... slip out sometimes.

He's learned more now, when specifically not to do it (Mrs. Donnell had not found his plea for a re-sit, in a heavy Irish accent, endearing in the slightest). But with friends who know Eddie, they know the accents come along too.

Steve fucking loves them.

The first time one had taken over his voice, some New Yorker twang to carry a joke, Steve had laughed so hard he’d snorted. And god, had Eddie lit up at the noise— loved knowing that, deep down Steve Harrington had a delicious wonderful ugly laugh that he only showed to people he trusted.

Basically, it’s hardly news to Steve then, all of Eddie’s little voices.

But well, even Eddie didn’t expect… okay, the truth is he never expected to be in this situation at all.

It’s a Wednesday evening when it happens. Steve is over round the trailer like he is every Wednesday, keeping Eddie company while Wayne is out on the double night shift.

It originally had started out as ensuring wounds were checked and dressed properly — considering half of them had scaled up his back, where Eddie couldn’t reach — for the both of them. Then, when technically Eddie could manage the worst of his words, Steve was still coming around. Dustin’s insistence, he’d said.

Then it was… because Eddie asked Steve to come around, to stay a little longer.

So, Steve Harrington is in his kitchen and it’s a Wednesday ritual that they have together and that’s not even the weird part of the evening.

(And somehow, neither is the fact that Steve is, as of a few months ago, his boyfriend.)

Steve’s cooking. Something simmers low on the scarlet glowing hob, bubbling quietly and releasing aromas of spices that percolate into the Autumn evening air.

Eddie feels his stomach growl in its own twist of hunger as he follows his nose. With one hand still scrubbing a towel against his wet hair, he ambles down the hall, fresh out the shower, ready for love — be it the form of food or, he thinks giddily, kisses.

Steve’s not watching the food as Eddie enters, his eyes fixed somewhere across the room. There’s a crease between his eyebrows, an indication of his deep thought.

Eddie grins, approaching without any attempt of being sneaky, (Steve’s as good as comatose when he’s distracted as he’d found) and jabs his boyfriend’s calf with his toe.

“Thinking mighty hard there, Stevie. That’s dangerous.”

Steve jolts, snapping out of his thoughts. He straightens up automatically, then seems to recall the company he’s keeping, and relaxes back down.

He scowls affectionately at Eddie’s barefoot, still jabbing into his leg, and reaches out to flick it with his finger.

“Dickhead.”

Eddie’s faster. He dances away and laughs at the instinctual pout that forms on Steve’s lips.

“What ponders thy mind, hm?” Eddie drawls, a lilt of a Regency style accent in his voice. He sinks into one of the kitchen chairs and drops his task. The towel hangs over his neck, his damp curls resting against it.

Steve seems to jolt again at that, his shoulders rising for a moment. He spins, picking up the wooden spoon beside the stove to swirl the contents of their dinner around. Eddie admires him, broad shoulders and long back, ripe for his taking. Silently, he sighs dreamily on the inside.

“Just… what movie we’re gonna watch tonight.” Steve says unconvincingly. “I’m not doing another re-watch of the Fly.” He adds lamely, an attempt at his usual bitch.

Eddie lets him have it. With one final squeeze of the towel, trying to wring out all the droplets in his hair, Eddie abandons it on the chair as he stands. He waltzes forward, into Steve’s space, and hooks his chin over the other's shoulder.

“You know, that’s what you said last time.”

Steve side-eyes him, his eyes narrowing into a minuscule glare; bitch personified. Eddie grins. Then bats his eyelashes.

It makes Steve laugh, shrugging Eddie’s weight off politely as he gives their dinner another stir. There’s still this tenseness to his frame. Though, maybe it's one Eddie can only notice because he’s paying such close attention.

“Alrightttttt,” He pretends to relent dramatically, his hands coming up to give Steve’s shoulders a quick squeeze. “I’ll let you pick the movie tonight.”

He drops his hands back to his sides, smarmy grin already plastered on as Steve turns to face him, the wooden spoon placed down on the bench.

“Oh, you’ll let me, will you?” He gives this incredulous look, even if there is this playfulness toying at the corners at his lips.

“Uh huh,” Eddie affirms with a severe nod, then begins counting on his fingers as he lists off. “No badgering, wailing, complaining, of any sorts I—“

Suddenly, Steve’s reaching out, his deft hands reaching out to snag the waistband of Eddie’s pyjama pants. It supposed to be a smooth move he’s used countless times before; fingers looped through belt loops to pull a girl in for a kiss. It usually works like a charm.

Except, there’s no belt loops— and when Steve tucks his fingers beneath the waistband and tugs him forward, Eddie shrieks.

“Fucking christ, Steve!” He bats Steve’s hands back without thinking. Steve holds them up defensively.

“Sorry! I was just—”

“What are you doing sticking your hands in my pants?!”

“It was a move!” Steve insists, voice a little whiney. “God, you’re dramatic- I was trying to pull you closer, numb-nuts.”

“Oooh,” Eddie switches up in an instant, hands shooting out to grab Steve’s own. He pulls them forward and settles them on his own waist, shuffling in closer like he hadn’t just shrieked a minute earlier. “Continue.”

Steve chuckles, delight peeking through on his face. His hands, large and slender, curl around the skin of Eddie’s waist and Christ, he’s still not used to that. Eddie’s too focused on repressing his shiver to see the shadow of nervousness cross Steve’s face.

“I was actually thinkin’ about,” Steve starts lowly, eyes skirting off Eddie’s face, over his shoulder. His fingers tighten their grip. “How—”

He sucks in a breath, like drawing in courage, and meets Eddie’s gaze. “About how much I love you.”

There’s the smallest tremble to his voice, giving away the immense emotion behind the words.

And here’s the situation that Eddie never expected to be in, ever. His breath catches, his eyes widen — his heartstrings tangle and knot themselves as he soaks in Steve’s admittance. Love, love, love — he loves me.

His lips part, a raspy noise escaping as he tries to compute, tries to think of anything to say because the longer he stays silent, the more crushed Steve’s expression becomes. And then—

“Well, I luv ya too.”

The words fall out, thick in that godawful Cockney accent.

Steve's face doesn't change but Eddie's does, contorting in an amalgamation of pure cringe and panic as embarrassment crawls beneath his skin. He slaps his hand over his own mouth as if it can take back his awful reply to being told he's loved by Steve.

"I—" He starts, speaking through his fingers, except it still comes out in a funny accent. Eddie squeaks, his grip over his mouth tightening, brown eyes wide in his panic. Oh God, never in stupid silly life has his accents come back to bite him in the ass so magnificently.

"I'm so sorry," Eddie whispers-yells in his regular voice, finally dragging his hands off his face sluggishly. "Jesus H Christ, I didn't— that wasn't making fun of you, I— oh god, you know that happens when I'm nervous sometimes. Shit. Shit, I'm so sorry, Steve."

Steve hasn't moved, his hands still resting on the small of Eddie's waist. His expression is guarded, nothing betrayed. His dark eyes scan across Eddie's face and just before he speaks, the smallest glimmer of amusement glitters across his face.

"Well," Steve begins, heaving a faux large sigh. His hands squeeze comfortingly at Eddie's waist again. Eddie who is still frozen, still cursing himself internally, still echoing around the apparently true fact that Steve loves him— well, maybe not anymore with how awfully Eddie responded.

And then Steve opens his mouth and the most appalling attempt at some accent comes out. It makes his words all garbled and Steve's pink in the face, obviously embarrassed but trying to commit to some shoddy Scottish when he says, "Aye, that's al'right."

Eddie stares at him. Steve stares back.

The moment of silence is broken as laughter seizes him, a guffaw bursting from his lips and holy fuck, Eddie loves him so much. Steve laughs too, the two of them relaxing and sinking into one another. Eddie's hands, previously fluttering and unsure, find their natural place curled in underneath Steve's jaw and when he leans in, he's fighting off his laughter. His grin is unbearably wide, cheeks aching.

Steve's got this shine in his eye, his hands sliding further around to pull Eddie in closer, his pink lips quirked in delight. Eddie practically purrs, so close to kissing him but not quite closing the gap.

"Yep," He says, eyes bright as they bounce over Steve's face to drink in his boyfriend's love-soaked expression. He loves him. Steve loves him. Eddie sounds as lovesick as he feels when he whispers, "It's decided. I think you're it for me, Stevie-baby."

He presses forward, lets his mouth find their home in the curve of Steve's lips. It's warm like nothing he's ever felt before, softened by their gooey-grins of love. It's an in love kiss.

"Even if you're terrible at accents." He murmurs against Steve's mouth.

"Shut up."

Steve hisses, but he’s still grinning. The dinner bubbles behind them, still cooking away behind them. "Like I'm ever going to let you live that down."

Eddie finds he doesn't really mind all that much — God forbid his boyfriend ever remind him they're in love.

"Shut up," He still says, then sticks out his tongue, like he's ten years old. "You love me."

"I do." Steve admits easily, his fingertips dancing along the small of Eddie's back. Eddie has to tuck his bottom lip behind his teeth to restrain his wild grin.

"And I love you." He says, properly this time, jabbing his finger into Steve's chest — so there's no absolutely mistaking it.

#watch me edit this over the next couple of days…..#cos it’s like a first draft #😚✌️#it’s ok i just wanna post something before i go back offline for a bit while i do finals + get a JOB #ruby writes steddie #steddie #steve x eddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steddie crack fic #it honestly it but also isn’t lol #steddie fluff #[shrugs] enjoy i guess

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little-pondhead · 2 months

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The Curse Of Hope

Danny is in another universe. He had a reason, but he doesn’t remember anymore. He can only stare, horrified and disgusted, at the sickest city spirit he’s ever seen. Shivering and swaying with every step, core exposed, and ectoplasm leaking from wounds that are decades old. A ratty blanket was thrown over their shoulders, barely hiding the spirit’s pale grey skin and protruding black bones.

The spirit didn’t even sense him until he reached out to touch its wispy shoulders. The spirit flinched, clutching at the dozens of trinkets hanging from their neck and tucking in on themselves like they were expecting a blow.

“Oh, shit,” He swore, floating back a few feet, hands in the air, to show he meant no harm. “I’m sorry. I promise, I’m not here to steal from you.” The spirit shivered again and rolled a pearl necklace in between their fingers. A nervous habit. “Uh, I like that pocket watch? It’s very nice.”

That got their attention. They peeked at Danny, and he saw that more tattered cloth was covering their eyes, blending in with the stringy hair that reached the ground. Their blanket fluttered weakly, revealing hundreds of thousands of tiny marks etched into their skin. Scars, really. Scars that wrote out curse after curse onto the spirit’s very being. They burned with evil intent, and even reached inside the spirit’s body and wrapped around their core.

Occasionally, blinding specks of color raced across their body, temporarily erasing the writing, but it always returned quickly. He watched, a little detached, as one particular line rewrote itself across their rough forearm, drawing fresh ectoplasm like someone was writing it with a thin knife.

“Are you…alright?” Danny stuttered. A stupid question.

The spirit cocked its head. He couldn’t see their eyes, but he felt their burning gaze as they pondered the question.

“The pain of others becomes mine own.” They rasped. “The lights of the city dim as rotten wealth clogs mine veins. Magicks long forgotten have eaten mine skins, pulled mine cloak, and darkened mine skies. Helios has refused to grace mine doorstep, and the seasons of the Earth have revoked their kindness.”

Danny held his breath. It felt like he was the one with the exposed core, not the spirit.

The spirit shivered once more. “Tell mine soul, little lamb. How could this Forsaken City know peace, when it was long since ripped from mine hands?”

Shit, he needed Frostbite. And maybe Clockwork. Now.

-Or-

Danny meets the spirit of Gotham City. The villains and rogues that have plagued the city for decades are literal curses that are taking quite the toll on Gotham, and honestly, Danny isn’t sure how much longer they can hold out. The heroes seem to be doing some help, and are probably the reason Gotham made it this far, but the poor city needs help from the Realms if they want to get better.

Luckily, Danny can provide that help.

But only if he could get Gotham to leave their city behind. Because recovery is going to take a very long time.

#dpxdc #pondhead blurbs #Gotham is very lanky and tall and had dozens of necklaces around their neck #the necklaces are just cords filled with lost things the citizens have lost over the years #like bits of glass or wedding rings or hag stones made from a destroyed gargoyle #actually I have a weird picture of Gotham in my head I might draw it #it’s giving Bloodborne to me but idgaf #basically Danny meets Gotham and is trying to convince them to go with him for medical help because what the fuck #those curses are the equivalent of leaving hundreds of leeches stuck to your body for ten years #Danny is BEGGING Gotham to come with him #there’s potential for angst but if you want crack then Danny probably replaces Gotham #I think there’s already a similar fic where he becomes the new spirit of Gotham but I haven’t read all of that #anyways the Batfam are like #invasive animals that are actually helping the ecosystem recover from an even WORSE invasive species #but they aren’t supernatural heroes and they don’t understand that the issue is deeper #I’m calling this the Curse of Hope because Danny is offering hope to Gotham #but Gotham is just so tired and sick and hurt that they don’t want to risk it #they think Danny is another curse come to plague them #should he just straight up adopt the city at this point?#idk it probably depends on how it’s written #sad course is to let Gotham die. happy ending is where they are treated and returned #crack ending probably has Danny adopting the city and introducing them to his own city spirit Amity Park #oh shit is that a new ship #guys please I can’t keep doing this #Gotham City x Amity Park #how the fuck do you come up with a name for that #Burger Joints?#Wet Pavement?#bro idk I’m putting this down before I make something I might regret #low key wanna write this but like. I have so much to do

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theminecraftbee · 3 months

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okay so. hear me out. but. au concept--

joel is one of many people affected by a Vanishing. its a phenomenon sweeping the country--people simply not showing up for work, school, life one day, as though they've vanished from the face of the earth. it's almost possible to mistake for normal missing persons cases, if it weren't for the way a few of the higher-profile Vanishings have happened to people who shouldn't have been able to vanish at all, let alone in a way that wouldn't be noticed until too late. look at joel's hometown. the people monitoring the dam were supposed to be redundant, and yet--

anyway. not like he cares or anything, except for the fact this stupid disaster or whatever has left him without anywhere to live or anyone to live with, and he still has a year of high school left, so he can't just do whatever he wants. luckily there's this school in a town called new hermiton that agreed to give him a scholarship to finish his education in the name of recovery and solidarity or whatever, and it's kind of a shwankier school than he'd normally go for, but it's free and, more importantly, they're willing to pay for his lodging, and he can't really turn that down. and it's not like he has a choice but to upend his entire life now. so packing what few of his belongings survived into a bag and getting on a train and moving across the country to a new school it is, he guesses.

(he's been having nightmares that inexplicably feature swarms of blue butterflies. last time he checked, lakes don't have butterflies in them. although maybe it's a metaphor or something, on account of the butterflies saying stupid stuff about how people who are remembered can't disappear, and even a false world cannot be erased if it's watched over, and how fate depends on him holding people in his heart. thanks for saying the same stupid shitty platitudes his social worker told him, just more cryptically, butterflies. real cool.)

new hermiton, it turns out, is a small city. while new hermiton academy is a newer school, much of the city is older. he's moved into a nice enough flat in an older apartment building. he has another cryptic butterfly dream. he thinks he remembers someone trying to urgently warn him of something, but it's all... shaky. that morning, he goes to the school for the first time. he's greeted by a fellow transfer student, skizzleman, although apparently he already knows some of the other folks in town, and transferred here so he could stay with them. but it's at least someone else in a similar enough situation to joel, especially since joel can just tell by the way people are looking at him that skizz didn't have much of a choice but to be here, either, and best friends with impulse or not, he's on his own too.

so. a friend. maybe this school won't be that bad, even if joel keeps having nightmares, and even if the weather here is weirdly cold for july, and even if his new homeroom professor keeps on looking at him really weirdly. (aren't professors supposed to be better about stupid rumors anyway? what's that mr. hills's deal?)

and then, two days later, he waves skizz off at the end of the school day, and gets skizz's friend, impulse, at his door, desperate to hear that skizz had just come to stay the night in joel's shitty lonely apartment, because otherwise it looks like--come on man. joel's already having a shit time. the universe deciding to go after his one existing friend too? he promises impulse to help investigate that night, in the vain hope that Skizz isn't one of the Vanished. joel gets a splitting migraine trying to follow their path back, though, and they have to stop for the night.

skizz is reported missing the next morning. joel resigns himself to cutting himself off from the people around him, as per usual. then, strangely, mr. hills corners him as he goes home.

"you'll need this," he says, and shoves what feels like a cheap butterfly knife into joel's hands. "uh, remember, trust your heart! you'll know how to use it."

"what," joel says. "hold on. you're supposed to be a teacher. why are you giving me this. i know for a fact my file says i have like, ptsd or whatever, which is stupid, but you definitely aren't supposed to be giving me a knife, you weirdo?"

"you'll know how to use it," joe hills says again. "goodbye! believe in yourself!"

mr. hills sprints behind a building before he has to explain anything else. joel is left standing on the sidewalk holding a knife, staring after him.

so. that's weird as hell. joel shivers in the cold and continues on his way home. the butterfly knife feels heavy in his pockets. he should probably report that guy to his social worker or something, but actually talking to his social worker feels like conceding defeat. joel can take care of himself. he can prove he can take care of himself. just watch him. step one: go out to get ramen because he forgot to buy any food for his apartment.

he sees impulse putting up signs as he eats. impulse looks miserable. joel thinks about how skizz, just in the short time he'd known him, had sort of unintentionally given away that he felt isolated after his mother Vanished. that impulse was a great friend, but impulse didn't understand what it was like. he never really SAID as much, but--

it's not fair to impulse, for that to be the last thing impulse remembered of what was apparently a friend since childhood. and joel doesn't care about any of these guys, but he can still pay his check and go out and help impulse go looking. he's no good at comforting people and doesn't know this guy, but joel had been alone too, sitting on the roof and crying, when the helicopters came.

except when they go back to the path by the school, joel's head starts to hurt again.

he looks up and there's a butterfly.

"hey, impulse, are butterflies common here?" he asks, a little desperately.

"i mean, not really, why?" impulse says.

"uh," joel says, and gestures. the two of them stare as the strange yellow butterfly circles in place.

"okay, so that is kind of weird," impulse admits.

"right?" joel says. "the only way it would be weirder is if it were blue." impulse gives him a look. joel does not explain.

it starts to fly away.

"we should follow it," impulse says, his voice getting a little dull. "yeah. we should follow it."

"what? no! no we should not follow the haunted butterfly, are you nuts?" joel says, but it's a bit too late. (maybe this is what the knife is for: stabbing impulse. it would be an effective method of stopping him!) he chases impulse down, down to the river, where yellow butterflies are swarming. impulse, as though possessed, simply steps into the swarm and falls through them to the water.

joel's, uh, freaking out more than a little bit? he'll admit he's freaking out. he dives forward to try to grab him, only to realize that he doesn't see impulse anywhere.

a single blue butterfly lands on joel's shoulder. "do you hold his heart next to yours?"

"i'm going insane," joel says.

"no heart is meant to be completely alone. do you hold his next to yours?"

"this isn't happening," joel says. "this is like a stupid manga or something. it's not happening."

"there is still time to save them; you must hold your heart strong, or the consequences will be dire. i believe in you."

the butterfly vanishes.

"fuck it," joel says. "if i drown then it's nothing people haven't expected of me anyway."

he steps through the swarm of butterflies.

that night, he drags both impulse and skizz out of the river. they're all freezing cold. shadows and strange, yellowy liquid still cling to all of their skin. also, joel stabbed himself, which like, glad to know that's what the knife was for, apparently, and the scar is warm and comforting. he can feel his--persona, and don't ask him how he knows that--shifting under his skin, under the mark on his hand. it said its name is pygmalion; it says it is a piece of joel's soul.

this is all patently insane. but skizz and impulse are alive and NOT eaten by shadow monsters, so even if they're both a little unconscious, joel takes that as a win.

they lie on the ground outside the river. someone stumbles across them. "well give me some teeth and call me an alligator. you got out on your own," breathes a fellow student clutching a dagger. joel thinks he's in the class across the hall. also--

"what are you talking about," joel wheezes.

"you found it on your own. you can find them?" the student says. his eyes are wide. something in joel's soul recognizes something in the student's. something in joel's BRAIN puts two and two together and realizes why mr. hills gave him a knife.

"no. no, go away, i don't want to be involved in this," joel says.

"well, don't you think it's too late for that?" the student says, and joel passes out. he's pretty sure the butterflies have to be laughing at him. in fact, as though to mock him further, after passing out, he doesn't even get to avoid it forever, because he wakes up in a glowing blue boat. there is a man with white-blonde hair, blue eyes, and a blue outfit leaning over him, poking him.

joel takes no responsibility for punching him. he'd do it again, too, as the long-nosed man sitting next to the unmanned steering wheel welcomes him to the velvet room.

(this, joel realizes later, all rather sets the tone for what the next year of his life is about to become.)

#hermitcraft #joel smallishbeans #smallishsona au #THAT'S RIGHT BABY ITS THE PERSONA AU I WAS WAFFLING ABOUT #because i'm playing p3re right now this is pretty p3 inspired but also expect elements of p4 (my fav) and p5 #i. do not know enough about p1 and p2 to be using all these butterflies but FUCK IT WE BALL.#a bee fic #KIND OF I GUESS I'LL PUT THIS THERE.#anyway the idea is that this au is half a crack au and half DEEPLY SINCERE #because the JOKE is that joel hates every minute of being a persona protagonist #but the OTHER bit is that joel is genuinely an extremely loyal guy who would do VERY WELL as a persona protagonist #you just have to drag him there kicking and screaming #(sort of in a very. p3-esque way)

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chemicalarospec · 8 months

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I'm inventing a new LawLight dynamic where L is like "Been feeling some sort of way towards this Light Yagami guy... Not sure which way, he's just an interesting person. Could be a crush I guess," so if someone asks him if they're dating he'd say something really weird like "I've been considering that possibility." Whereas Light suppresses any and all thoughts about their relationship but subconsciously accepts that There's Something Going On, so when asked, he's like "yeah, we're boyfriends. --Wait, what?!? Boyfriends??" (horror dawns on his face) "Oh no. Yes, we are boyfriends."

You ask them the question together and they respond "yes" and "no" at the same time, both with deep regret in their voice, and then turn and stare at each other in shock.

#ok light would lie and cover up his mistake better than that (but not much better) but this is funny #lawlight #L x light #death note #chem's death note arc #I said this #yeah. I did take the funny bit and expand it to a whole fic.#now i have the two super serious and artistic death note fics and one almost-crack fic haha #i just wrote 'he knows I have a lot of internalized homophobia!' and I'm just so funny guys I can't with myself

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nostalgia-tblr · 5 months

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I watched Avengers: Age of Ultron (apart from I skipped some overly long action sequences) and I am not sure so can someone tell me whether or not Tony Stark was the baddy in that film? Because about halfway through I was sure he was but then it was maybe just an evil robot after all and I am confused because either this film was surprisingly subversive or it was about robots hitting each other.

#I CANT STAND THE CONFUSION IN MY MIND #also i get why people wrote wanda/sylvie. they should go on a wholesome chick-flick revenge-quest together. and also they should kiss.#also i am now only *half* joking about thor being in love with mjolnir #it kept doing Christianity Bits which was quite awks.#not sure why it used the bit about building the church on a rock for some metal i mean wasn't jesus making a pun there? about peter?#i think Vision might be Jesus? or else he's Dr Manhattan who's done a first year philosophy course. could go either way on that tbh.#BUT TONY WAS THE BADDY RIGHT? WAS HE? WAS TONY THE BADDY OR NOT????#with the homocidal glitches in what he thinks is his winning personality?#and all the weapons he's made and is in fact still making but now he only sells them to The Good Guys?#except look how easily they fall out with each other and also don't a lot of innocent bystanders die in their overly long action scenes?#also i need to write fic about whether mjolnir does in fact obey some unknown code that can be cracked if you set your mind to it #she does like Robot Jesus so apparently we can rely on her to make the major decisions from now on #the ending's a bit ominous - apparently someone's collecting those TVA paperweights to do... something? Oh no! :O #yeah i watched the MCU in the wrong order shut up this was inevitable and Marvisney should just embrace that at this point #(i know 'Marvisney' will never catch on but that will not stop me using it)#the loki series ending is but the latest installment of “unlimited power with no oversight is fine as long as the Good people have it”#UNLESS TONY WAS ACTUALLY THE BADDY. WHICH AS I MENTIONED I AM NOT AT ALL CLEAR ON.#maybe what i mean is was tony stark the baddy *on purpose*?#i only picked this one to watch next because tumblr gifsets told me thor wears a nice coat in it #which he does! but only for a small fraction of the film :(#journey into the mcu #the avengers (the marvel ones not the other ones)

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fucktheroyals · 1 year

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I just want a dreamling fic of Hob getting Dream to do terribly human and mundane things. Sometimes Hob's just inviting Dream to do something he was already going to do. Sometimes Hob realizes Dream hasn't done something boring human thing and wants Dream to do it so bad. Sometimes Hob doesn't know whether Dream has done a boring human thing before but he just wants to see Dream doing it. It'd be so cute if whenever Hob doesn't have access to something, upon becoming better and better at navigating the dreaming, he just dreams up the situation there.

—OKAY WAIT THIS LITERALLY JUST FLEW INTO MY HEAD!!! Okay, you know how wives sometimes go with their husband's to golf courses and they literally just sit in the cart. CAN YOU IMAGINE— Dream's with Hob at Hob's place of work and Hob's coworkers/work friends invite Hob to play golf with them and Hob agrees for whatever reason and then Hob's work friends invite Dream along too and Hob didn't even think about it but now he NEEDS Dream to go and Dream reluctantly agrees. In true wifey fashion Dream shows up in full golf attire like he's going to play but just sits in the cart the entire time. I think it could be hilarious.

#I just want scenes of Dream being ///Hob's/// boyfriend/husband/lover #sometimes without him actually being Hob's yet #(for anyone wondering if the wifes do anything else while sitting in the cart. they watch their husbands play and slide into the driver's #seat when their husbands tell them to bring the cart over 👀)#I used to work on a golf course is why I know this. they honest to god looked like they were going to play but never leave the car. I would #need to figure out if they were playing bc I needed to know if they were going to hit or if I could continue working or not #In true Dream fashion he would know everything going on and how to do it but he wouldn't want to upstage Hob and I'm sure he wouldn't wanna #act as if he were bad at it either #I gotta write this fic man jeez. it twirls in my brain constantly.#dreamling #we've gone from conceivably cute and soft fic to dipping our toe into the crack fic waters but no fear all fics I write are crack #at least a little bit

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mell0bee · 7 months

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yall really liked this scene last wip wednesday so here have another little bit of it

edit: heres the link :]

#luz noceda #hunter noceda #i have also figured out that the bestie duo name for these two is #pittwins #which i assume comes from the bird app so idk if ppl actually use it here? we shall see #the owl house #toh #toh fanfic #hunter toh #bee post #bee writes #fr tho im so surprised the last post got 50+ notes #considering that my actual fics usually get like. 3.#so thats cool #i would like to finish this some day. and the last post gave me a lot of motivation but progress is so slow #i have no free time. but its going. so thats good #also u can probs guess the premise of this fic from this little bit which is good (??). its like. 10% a crack fic. just a little bit #wip wednesday #sparkle on its wip wednesday dont forget to be yourself besties

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farolero-posting · 11 months

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I think Cedric and Calamus should be friends and join the club of teenagers with way too much weight on their shoulders because holy shit they deserve good things.

I mean, one of those small details that I always felt were kind of sad was that line Cedric has about not knowing Calamus or Alula... which makes sense in a way, because it was the Author who knew them better. And yet both Cedric and Calamus feel close in age and have similar personalities I am genuinely surprised they weren't friends.

And now considering their circumstances... Both of them need to be the proactive sibling, ready to react to situations that are beyond what teens like them should be doing.

We... never get told what happened to Rachis, although context probably tells us he was one of the NPCs lost to the squares. But even if Calamus and Alula were not aware of that truth, they're both still functionally orphans, and Calamus has made it his responsibility to make sure Alula is okay because she is all he has left.

Cedric is one of the few people aware of being in a simulation, and this by itself is already really isolating. Cedric is also the one responsible for... pretty much ensuring that Niko made it to the city and fulfilled their mission, having to make up plans as he goes. Not to mention the knowledge that his father is gone for good now, and the grief that is tied to it.

And besides all of this, I just really think that these two are alike in personality. Both are really polite, hardworking and responsible. The only big differences are their sets of skills and that Cedric is more willing to take risks on the spot, while I feel like Calamus would be more cautious in his place.

But gosh they could be good friends.

#oneshot game #cedric #calamus #analysis #i am not the most skilled writer but boy do i wanna do something about this yknow #Something something i wonder if Rachis and the Author had a similar dynamic at some point #Oh. another aspect im considering too as a bit of a crack theory. or a way to get some conflict potential #like. we know the cedric we meet is technically a robot.#my personal take on that is that he is made from code and contains as many memories as the original cedric was able to transfer #but when it comes to have actually experienced those things... our cedric knows those are memories. but are not /his/ own. in a way.#calamus and alula have memories that were coded in them but without awareness of their situation they see all of that as real #but cedric knows he is code and thus. he has existed inside. but whatever came before was the memories he inherited but not his own actions #so he recognizes those names. but is actually not sure he really knows them the same way his memories know them #and cannot guarantee he can be the friend they have known him as. because he is who cedric was #but also his own thing #this is a mess to explain but do u see what i mean #like how real he sees himself and how real the future ahead is and who he is aaslkfja #ok im done with my break ignore this rambling. this probably makes no sense.#im just figuring out how i wanna write characters #fic: write your own path forward #< for personal organization

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a1sart · 2 years

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so the ninja are canonically celebrities right? which means they have fans

y’know what fans do?

write fanfiction that’s what

headcanons about how the ninja feel about that under the cut :) (cut because this is long not because there’s nsfw headcanons or anything I don’t write that stuff)

Kai fucking loves it. He discovered that people wrote fanfic and he immediately started reading the most popular fics. Eventually he ends up with a ninjago version of an ao3 account (his username is probably fiyaamaster or something) and he makes it public. He shares it on his Chirp. He has all his fanfic boundries listed in his bio. People make memes about him finding their fics. Eventually an offcial “Kai DNI” tag is made because he’s read so many fics. He even wrote a fic once. It becomes the most popular fic on the site. It’s terrible. People quote it in memes. People have started sending him fic recs.

Jay is less enthusastic about fanfic. He thinks it’s weird that people write about him as if he’s a fictional character instead of a person. He doesn’t stop anyone from writing about him or including him in their fics though. The team doesn’t feel complete if one of them is missing and that carries over to fics. So he lets people write about him. He does avoid fics as much as he can though. He doesn’t seek them out.

Cole is resigned about it. He’s accepted that it happens and he can’t stop it. He doesn’t mind. Occasionally he will read one if it seems interesting. He had Kai post his fic boundries on his Chirp because Kai has more followers than him.

Zane is confused by fanfiction. (or at least rpf fanfiction. He completely understands fanfiction for non-rpf fandoms). He understands writing about people in like, a historical context for history books or biographies. But writing completely fictional things about real people? He finds it kind of odd. He has read a couple of fics because kai reccomended them but he doesn’t seek them out.

Nya is sort of amused by them? She reads them ironically if they seem funny but occasionally catches herself reading them completely unironically because the story looks interesting. She sees them as just stories where the characters have the same names as her and her friends. Theres a sort of disconnect between herself and the version of her in fics. She’s serious about her boundries though because she knows other people don’t see it the same way she does. She posted them on her Chirp and had Kai boost it so more people saw. She doesn’t read nearly as many fics as Kai but she does have a solid third place in ninja fic reading at the monastery. (When Nya became the sea a lot people stopped including her in fics because it felt disrespectful. This upset Kai and Jay because it feels like people are covering up her existance. It fueled Jays idea that people were forgetting Nya.)

Lloyd is an absolute fanboy. He used to write fanfic about Starfarer when he was at Darkleys so he is completely unsurprised when he discovers that people write fics about him. He has his boundries on Kai’s Chirp and he reads them if Kai thinks they’re good. He has a ninjago ao3 account that he used to use for starfarer that he uses for ninja fic reading now. He once live streamed a reading for a really prolific meme fic and the chat almost died. He even did voices. Other than that he’s pretty chill about it.

Pixal is on the same page with Zane on the fics thing. She reads more than him though. She has an account (her username is probably something like P.I.X.A.Lao3). She leaves detailed critique in the comments. No one knows it’s her. They all (mostly) assume it’s some random fan account. The fandom has started memes about the mysterious critique account. Theres a “P.I.X.A.Lao3 Please DO interact, actually” tag for her account because she gives genuinely good advice. Theres a conpsiracy theory in the fandom that the account belongs to Pixal but no one likes to think too hard about it. She finds this amusing. Cyrus Borg thinks it’s hilarious.

Wu actually doesn’t care. People have been writing about him since before time had a name. He’s the son of GOD. People write about him all the time. He doesn’t see fic as any different. He’s just used to it. He’s the one holding second place fic reading because of this technicality. He’s read a lot of stuff about him over the years. Not as much as Kai though lol.

Misako doesn’t read fic about herself and never plans to. She doesn’t care all that much.

#is this cursed? I feel like this is cursed.#i just thought it was funny that they're canonically celebrities #and I was a bit surprised that as far as I'm aware no one else has played around with this idea?#it seems like great crack fic material tbh #yeah probably lol #al talks about things #lego ninjago #ninjago

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