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#response fic
ybkayley · 2 years
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A Soft Song
Hello all! This is my very first post that isn’t a little update post, I have no idea what I’m doing, so please bear with me!
Thank you to the lovely @dainty-fingertips for responding to my ask with a lovely fill, and in tribute, I wrote a little something-something in return!  Go read their work, they are amazing and I love them.
TSSM!Otto Octavius/Doc Ock x Fem!Reader
Mild angst, song fic, reader POV, only mentioned Otto/Dr. Octopus
Part 1 : https://at.tumblr.com/dainty-fingertips/oh-my-god-someone-who-writes-about-my-current/entts18yjegt
~~
You know what’s worse than being fired from a place like Oscorp?
Having had to work at Oscorp.
Norman Osborn both was, and is, a bastard, and he always seemed to relish in making his employees squirm. Especially those smarter than him. Yes, he’s CEO, yes he’s the owner of the company, bah. He’s not even a doctor, and the bastard acts as if every employee is worthless compared to him.
She rolled her shoulders lightly, and cracked her neck. It was never good to think about Osborn, it agitated her too much. What the man did to her and her partner…
Oh, Otto…
She sighed, and ran a hand down her face. That man was too soft, too sweet, to be working for a monster like Osborn. He was going to ruin the poor doctor…
And now… She can’t be there to shield him from the worst of it…
Several Months Ago…
“Dr. (L/N)... A pleasure to see you, as always.” Norman smirked at her, hands folded behind his back as he approached her.
She gave him a sarcastic smile back. “Mr. Osborn, how kind of you to grace us with your presence this evening.” She drawled, her fingers not stopping on her keyboard.
If he heard the sarcasm, he didn’t react to it. “How are things going down here, hm?”
“They’re going.” She turned her attention back to the monitors, “The actuators needed a little fine tuning this morning, the VI was giving a bit of… Trouble…” She frowned a bit. “But it was summarily handled. Nothing to worry about.”
“I thought it was AI, Doctor.” He leaned on the desk next to her, his arms now folded over his chest.
She held in a sigh. “AI is artificial intelligence, even with my genius, no one has managed to crack it. VI is virtual intelligence, that’s what everyone thinks AI is. Think of it as… A working brain, versus a dialogue tree.” She looked at the man, a bland look on her face. “One thinks for itself, the other follows coded instructions.”
He smirked at her. “Delightful.” He didn’t care, not a bit. “I have some rather… Unfortunate news, I’m afraid.”
She didn’t pause her typing. “And that is?” Her hours were probably going to get cut again, damn it all, how was she going to–
“I’m afraid we’re going to have to… Let you go. From Oscorp.”
Her fingers stopped moving. What?
“What?”
“Yes, we’ve decided that since your research notes with Dr. Octavius are, indeed, thorough enough to replicate the VI, should anything happen, well…” He shrugged, nonchalant. “Your assistance is no longer required.”
“... If you fire me, I’m taking my research with me, Osborn.”
“It’s copyrighted to Oscorp Industries, you’ll take nothing, my dear.” He smirked, and tapped a finger under her chin. “But cheer up! You’ve led us into wonderful territory, dear, your research–”
She slapped his hand away. “Exactly. My research, not Oscorp’s. I will fight tooth and nail to obtain my research notes, I will take you to court so fast–!”
“Unlikely, dear.” He wasn’t as amused now. “Your contract states implicitly that any research you do on company grounds immediately…” His smirk came back, darker. “Belongs to me.”
“... You son of a bitch.”
“Ah ah, watch that mouth, sweetheart.” He tapped a finger on her lips. “Don’t want to get in trouble, hmm?”
She slapped his hand again. “Stop touching me! And don’t call me those stupid pet names! I’m not your wife, and I’m not your bitch!” She pointed a finger at him. “This isn’t over, Osborn. Not by a long shot. I swear, upon my doctorate, you will pay for this.”
He gave her a false pitying look. “Then… We’ll have to fix that, won’t we?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He snapped his fingers, and his security appeared. “Escort this woman off the property. She is no longer employed here at Oscorp.”
She gave the man a dark glare. “You’ll regret this, Osborn.”
He smirked and winked at her. “Swear on your doctorate?”
She didn’t respond, her lip curling in disgust.
“Take her away.”
“M-Mr. Osborn?”
Norman and (Y/N) both turned to look at who entered. Dr. Octavius stood in the doorway, a confused look on his normally anxious face. “Ah, Dr. Octavius!” Norman greeted with a smile. “Forgive us, we were discussing some… Business.”
“B-Business? W-Well, should I-I–?”
“Don’t worry, Doctor, we were just about to leave… Come along, now, dear.” Norma curled his fingers at her, and the guards grabbed her arms, causing her to snarl at them. “Play nicely now, hmm?”
“M-Mr. Osborn! W-What a-are you–?!” Otto moved to object, but Norman held up a hand. “S-Sir?”
“I’m afraid Dr. (L/N)...” He chuckled. “Miss (L/N)... Is no longer employed at this company, Dr. Octavius. She was just leaving.”
She snarled at the man, her teeth bared, her face angry.
Otto had… Never seen her like this before… “M-Mr. Osborn, please–”
“Go ahead and get to work, Doctor. We’ll have her escorted out immediately.”
“O-Oh… Um… G-Goodbye, then… D-Dr. (L/N)....” Was all he could think to say. He didn’t want this to happen… His partner, his…. His friend… H-His… “I-I… Um…”
She sighed, the anger seeming to leave her body with a breath. “... Goodbye, Otto…” She said softly, and then gave him a weak smile. “Save me a dance…?”
He gulped and nodded his head, even as he flushed. “I-I… Y-Yes…”
And she was led away.
“Not to worry, Doctor.” Norman attempted to comfort the visibly upset man. “Now you have no more distractions, hm?” He wasn’t trying too hard. “No more of her horrendous music playing, no more her dragging you into that… Ridiculous dancing routine… Now just you and our… Experiments.” He gave the shorter man a squeeze on his shoulder. “... Now. I won’t bother you further. Back to work, Dr. Octopus!” And he was gone as well, following his guards with a light chuckle.
Present Day…
Dr… Well… Miss (L/N) sighed as she stood at the bus stop, hands in her jacket pockets and a backpack over one shoulder.
If Norman Osborn could do one thing, the man could follow through with a threat.
She attempted to get her research notes in a lawsuit against Oscorp, because she can follow through with a threat of her own, but after a harsh slap of reality in trying to take a high power company to court… Well… Norman followed through.
Her doctorate was taken from her. Norman stripped her of everything. Her work experience, her past jobs denounced her… She had nothing left. She was surprised her credit score hadn’t suffered. (It had, but due to a chain reaction, not Norman’s filthy hands directly).
So… With her car repossessed, her landlord breathing down her neck, and no laboratory wanting to hire her… She works at a coffee shop. While not unheard of at her age, with her current level of education… “Work is work.” (Y/N) sighed to herself. “I can’t begrudge work…”
It’s cold here in the city
It always seems that way
She had gotten mugged last week, her favorite jacket (which now had blood stains from both her mouth and her attacker's nose) was now either sold or being worn by some asshat in New York. Thick clouds hung in the sky, soft rumbles and grumbles indicating bad weather ahead.
And I’ve been thinking about you
Almost every day
She wondered how he was doing… Doctor Octopus… She couldn’t help a soft snort. (Y/N) couldn’t believe he decided to keep that moniker, he used to hate it when Osborn would call him that. Whatever happened to him that night… Whatever Osborn did to him… Otto had reclaimed that name. Made it his own. Took back every bit of power Osborn had taken from him.
… She wondered if he played music in his new lab… He had to have a new lab, right? Did he play music in it? Did his taste change?
… She wondered if he had a new assistant to spin around like they used to.
Thinking about the good times
Boom
Thinking about the rain
“Why do these things happen to me?” She grumbled to herself, her hair being flattened to her skull as rain pelts down upon her, falling into her face and covering her eyes. She quickly pushed her hair back, forcing it to smooth back on top of her head. She didn’t have an umbrella, she didn’t think she’d need one. Damn weather forecasters and their damn lies…
Thinking about how bad it feels
To be alone again
As she was soaked in the rain, she allowed her mind to drift. Usually, they drifted to her old calculations, formulas that ran back and forth through her mind. But this time… She dimly remembered the music that played in the lab. Otto’s ‘soft rock mix’ played in her mind’s ear, causing her to smile slightly. She missed those days. Just her and Otto, the music the only thing between them, soft laughter and sweet conversation…
I’m sorry things ain’t what
They used to be
His music taste must have changed, everything else about him did. Maybe he hired himself a new assistant, too. Did he lead when they danced? She used to lead, leading was never her forte. At least when it came to dancing. She didn’t mind it, though. So long as it was with Otto… She would dance with him forever…
I’m sorry for all the lies
I told you
She flushed, a memory coming to her. Oh, it was a little over a year ago now, one of their little… Impromptu dance sessions. He initiated it, this time. The song had ended in a flourish, and in a bold move, he dipped her, his hand cradling her back, the other holding hers. Their eyes locked, so close to each other. In her mind’s eye, she leaned upward, her lips meeting his, her eyes closing as she finally, finally, learned how his lips felt on hers. 
I’m sorry for all the things
I didn’t say
She should have told him. If she had just fucking told him how she felt, he probably would’ve hired her as his assistant… His new, evil assistant as he takes over New York, maybe the world… Would she have taken it…? Being a villainess… Even as an assistant, would she be considered one? She’s overthinking again, isn’t she?
I’m sorry if I took
Some things for granted
(Y/N) had definitely taken the easy contact with Otto for granted. She should have gotten his phone number, she could’ve been texting him. Who knows, maybe a kind word, or a friend on the outside would’ve made things… Different. Would he still be Doctor Octopus? (She still had to snort lightly at that, he hated that nickname so muuuuch). Or would he still be her Otto?
But more than anything else
She straightened as footsteps approached from her side, not wanting to look meek, or distracted. (She may hate herself for saying it, but that’s how she ended up getting mugged in the first place)
I’m sorry for myself
She smoothed back her hair again, and wiped her face, the rain pouring harder and faster.
For living without you
An umbrella came over her head suddenly.
She closed her eyes and sighed. “How much?” She asked blandly.
“Excuse me?” The stranger asked, a male voice sounding bemused.
“Look, I only have five bucks on me, man, and I ain’t giving you any extras.” She pulled a $5 note from her pocket.
“You think I want your money?”
“Acts of kindness aren’t free, man, I know that.” She turned to frown at the man, only to startle, her eyes widening. “Dr. Toomes?”
Adrian Toomes gave her an amused smile, his eyebrow arched. “Dr. (L/N), a pleasure as always.”
“The pleasure is mine, I’m sure.” He may have been Otto’s friend, but they two always got along well enough. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you…” She looked him up and down. “At least without the gear.”
He chuckled softly. “Yes, well, the new upgrades don’t like water all that much.” He did the same, looked her up and down. “Seems as though you do though, hm?”
She rolled her eyes, “Ha ha.” She couldn’t help a smile anyway. “Can’t exactly afford an umbrella nowadays.”
“Oh? What’s going on, Doctor?”
She sighed. “That. I’m not…” She hated talking about this. “I’m not…. A doctor… Anymore.”
His brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”
“... Osborn had my doctorate rescinded.” She growled, feeling her hackles rise. “The bastard fired me, ruined my livelihood, and, with a glowing exit survey, made getting a new job nigh impossible…”
“You poor thing.” He cooed. “Norman Osborn has been nothing but a nuisance for decades now.”
“Yeah, well…” She rolled her shoulders. “Promised myself if I ever find him in the streets, his ass is grass… Forgive my language, Doctor.”
“Oh, no, it’s completely understandable, dear. The man’s a prick.”
She snorted, her hand lifting to cover her face. “I concur.”
“So… Am I to be assuming you’re looking for work, then?” He asked, his brow lifting again, a little smirk on his lips.
She snorted lightly. “I mean… I have a job, Dr. Toomes. I work…” She sighed, and rubbed her face. “I’m a barista now.”
He snorted as well, far more condescendingly. “A barista? Dr. (L/N), how demeaning of you.”
“Like I said, Dr. Toomes.” She snapped a bit. “... I’m not… A doctor… anymore…”
“... Oh, yes, that’s right.” He offered her the umbrella handle. “Hold this for me for a moment, would you?”
She blinked, her brow still furrowed, irritation still prickling her skin… But she still took the handle. “Doctor?”
“One moment.” He reached into his inner coat pocket, and pulled out a folded document. “This is for you. A show of good faith from… My employer, I suppose.”
She blinked, and accepted it, handing him back the umbrella. She unfolded it, and read the text upon it.
And nearly dropped it in the puddle beneath her.
“Is… Is this…?”
“Yes, it is.” He nodded his head. “Doctor… (L/N).”
Her doctorate. There was indeed a ‘void’ stamped onto it, but another stamp and a few signatures overrode it. It was… It was reinstated…
“I can obtain a clean copy for you, if you wish. However, we had thought you would appreciate the amended one first.”
“... Dr. Toomes… H-How…” She lifted her head, and unshed tears were shining in her eyes. “How did you…?”
He chuckled. “Not I, my dear.” He pulled a card from his pocket as the bus finally approached. “Come to this address tomorrow night, 7 o’clock. My employer wishes to meet you.”
She took the card with a shaky hand. “R-Right…”
He gently nudged her into the bus. “See you soon, doctor.”
The doors of the bus shut behind her before she could respond.
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katarena · 2 years
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Into the Light
https://archiveofourown.org/works/8682256
A fic written in response to a comment left on this story. I tried to write something else, but sometimes when a story wants to go in a certain direction, it’s best to go with it.
***
“Sure this is gonna work, Donnie?”
Don breathes out slowly; his finger is shaking a bit as it hovers over the button. “Here goes nothing.”
He presses the button and the lair is flooded with blue light as a portal opens.
“Wish me luck.” Leo, Mikey and their guests are going to be back soon; it’s not a coincidence that Donnie and Leatherhead have waited until now to test the portal. Raph takes a deep breath and steps into it.
He emerges to find nine figures staring at him. Two are human, one’s a rat, and six are turtles.
“You have got to be kidding.”
Raph smirks at the speaker. “Nice to meet you too, Casey Jones.”
These other turtles are massive. The different version of Raph might be bigger than Leatherhead, and that’s saying a lot.
“What are you doing here?” asks Leonardo.
“Ya want the short version, or the long?”
“Let me get this straight,” Leo says calmly. “You’re saying that all of you met up with more versions of ourselves…and then they kidnapped your Donatellos?”
“They’re huge, dude!” Mikey – not Raph’s Mikey, a different one with big blue eyes and freckles – tells him. “I’m not kidding! They just picked them up and carried them off!”
“…and they’ve been hangin’ around in our world since then.” Raph notices the two stray Dons don’t exactly look happy at this news, and the four Hulks even less. “Our Donnie and LH have been building a portal to get you guys back home, but…”
The thinner Don frowns. “Wait – LH? Do you mean Leatherhead? Leatherhead’s been helping you?”
Raph doesn’t get a chance to say anything, because Raphael is walking right up and looming over him. “Don’t know if you know about this,” he growls, “but those guys? They don’t exactly treat Don and Dee well. That’s why we took ‘em in the first place.”
Finally, a different version of him he actually likes.
“Oh, we’d figured that,” he says. “And believe me, Leo, Master Splinter and I have had a lotta words with those knuckleheads.”
Raphael and Leonardo nod approvingly.
Raph turns back to the smaller Dons. “Look, I ain’t gonna force ya to come with me. All I’m gonna says is, they ain’t the brothers you used to have. You want to hear ‘em out, that’s up to you.”
Don and Dee glance at each other, back at the Hulks, then at each other again.
“I’ll go,” Don says eventually. He looks as if he’s bracing himself.
Dee nods too.
“Great.” Raph looks at everyone else and grins. “Hey, you guys wanna come too?”
***
Leo and Mikey return with their guests to find a glowing portal and nine newcomers standing in front of it.
For a moment, there’s silence. Then…
“DONNIE!”
Three green blurs rush forward and throw themselves on one of the strangers. Leo hears their apologies, pleas for forgiveness and promises to be better, but he’s focusing on the other group, who are solemnly approaching their Donatello.
He stands still, waiting for them.
For one moment, they stand and look at each other. Then the turtle in blue kneels and bows his forehead to the ground. The others follow his example, leaving their Don staring at them, stunned.
In the background, four large figures look on approvingly.
Something doesn’t feel right. Leo’s instinct is tingling, warning him, so he looks around the lair. Everyone is here, but Don, their Don, is walking quickly towards the garage.
Leo follows him. When he reaches the garage, Don is standing with his back to the entrance, bracing himself against the wall with one hand.
“Whoa, Don.” Raph’s joined them. “You OK?”
Don doesn’t turn around. He doesn’t even know Leo and Raph are there, and he’s trembling. The sound of his breathing fills the whole room.
“Guys?” It’s Mikey. “What’s going on? Why is Donnie shaking like that?”
Leo gently touches Don’s shoulders to move him away from the wall and it’s like watching glass shatter.
Don’s legs buckle. Leo catches him just in time, but the sound that breaks out of Don’s mouth tears at his heart. It’s a terrible sobbing wail and the next moment, Leo is kneeling on the floor, rocking his distraught brother in his arms as he cries and cries and cries.
“Mikey, get Splinter. Now.”
He hears Mikey yelling for their sensei and within moments, Splinter’s there. He kneels beside Don and puts one hand on his head, stroking it gently. Mikey’s eyes are frightened and bewildered, and he’s looking to Leo for answers, but Leo doesn’t know what’s going on either.
Don’s been hurt.
The realisation is like a sword through Leo’s gut. This is a wound that’s never fully healed and has been viciously ripped open again.
How could they not know about this? How could Leo not know? Don’s his brother.
“Nobody’s gonna take you away from us, Donnie.” Raph’s voice is like fire. “Not now, not ever, because we ain’t ever lettin’ ya go.”
Eventually Don’s sobs quieten, and he makes as if to push himself out of the embrace.
“No you don’t, Donnie.” Leo tightens his arms, holding his brother fast. There are times when he has to decide whether Mikey, Raph and Don need him to be a leader or a brother and right now, Don needs both. “We’re not going anywhere, and neither are you.”
“What happened, my son?” asks Splinter softly. “What has wounded your soul so deeply, Donatello?”
He tells them.
***
“I thought if I didn’t tell anyone it would go away. But it hasn’t. It’s still there, and I thought…I thought…”
He knows those other guys didn’t mean any harm, but the moment he heard other versions of himself have gone missing, he felt this fear. The nightmares came back, and they were worse than ever.
But he’s – they’re OK. They’re safe. And now he’s told his family, the weight he’s been carrying inside his chest feels lighter. He can’t remember the last time he cried so hard or for so long, or the last time he was able to breathe so freely.
“Come here, Donnie. I got ya.”
Raph takes him by the elbows and helps him to his feet, then bends down and picks him up over one shoulder. Don lies limp and trusting as his brother carries him to his bedroom, then places him in bed and covers him. Master Splinter’s hand starts to stroke his head again and slowly, Don slips into sleep.
“We’re not going anywhere, and neither are you.”
Don believes him.
***
“Uh…hey.”
The big guys look nervous. Michelangelo is shifting from foot to foot. “Is your Donnie OK?” he asks.
Mikey wants to be mad at them, but he can’t be. If it hadn’t been for them, those shell-for-brains would still have been…shell-for-brains, and he and his brothers wouldn’t have known about the pain Donnie’s been carrying. Besides, the two other Donnies don’t hate the big guys for kindnapping them.
(What Mikey will later tell his brothers is that seeing how frail and elderly one of the Splinters is made him realise that one day? That’s going to be their Splinter.
Mikey’s not ready for that.)
“Yeah,” Raph says. “Yeah, he will be.”
“What happened?” asks Donatello.
“Ultimate Drako happened,” Raph snarls. “Trust me, you do not want to run into him.”
His fists are clenched and Mikey instinctively knows that if Drako wasn’t already dead, Raph would kill him for this.
Leo tells the big guys about the Ultimate Ninja and his alliance with Drako. “He used the Time Sceptre to send all of us into different realities.”
“Leo got sent to Usagi’s world, Raph got to be a planet racer, I got sent to a world where we’re all superheroes…and Donnie got the It’s a Wonderful Life experience.”
“The what-de-whoosit?” Michelangelo asks.
“It’s the film they always show around Christmas – you know, the one where that guy wishes he’d never been born and sees what would have happened if…” Donatello drops his gaze. “Oh.”
His brothers look horrified.
“Look,” Leo says to the big guys, “for what it’s worth, I think you did the right thing.” He glances over to where everyone else is quietly building bridges with each other. “And we would never have known about Donnie’s suffering otherwise.”
“You know, I’m gonna miss those guys,” Michelangelo says.
He looks sad, and Mikey doesn’t blame him. He hates goodbyes. But maybe they can all have one last day together – they can watch movies and have the biggest pizza party in the world. It’s going to be great.
“Just one question. Who’s Usagi?”
Raph grins at Leonardo. “Oh, trust me. If you ever meet him, you’ll get on just fine.”
“Yup!” Mikey says. “I think you guys are gonna be best friends.”
Just then, the alarm goes off. Everyone looks towards the door; Don appears at the doorway of his bedroom, bo in hand.
“The Foot.” Raph takes his sais out of his belt. “What do you say we get this party started?”
Those guys find it hard to beat four ninja turtles. Sixteen of them, four Master Splinters, two Casey Joneses and Leatherhead? They’ve got no chance.
“Let’s do this.”
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mylittleredgirl · 1 year
Text
playing a new game where i talk about fandom using words that belong on corporate powerpoint slides like:
✨ we have to align our headcanons to authentically reflect our strategic mission and meet quarterly margin objectives ✨
sorry to everyone who understood that
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thevioletcaptain · 11 months
Text
i genuinely don't care how good a piece of ai generated art or writing looks on the surface. i don't care if it emulates brush strokes and metaphor in a way indistinguishable from those created by a person.
it is not the product of thoughtful creation. it offers no insights into the creator's life or viewpoint. it has no connection to a moment in time or a place or an attitude. it has no perspective. it has no value.
it's empty, it's hollow, and it exists only to generate clicks (and by extension, ad revenue.)
it's just another revolting symptom of the disease that is late stage capitalism, and it fucking sucks.
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ky-landfill · 4 months
Note
Could you please do Bruce calming Tim from a panic attack or nightmare please? 🙏
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
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apomaro-mellow · 7 months
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Wrong Number 1
Eddie kept up a texting chain with Steve while making himself a breakfast of coffee and cereal. He hadn't felt like this in a long time. Not since, well, when he thought of it when he was a teenager up all night in chat rooms and forums. When you found someone who you just clicked with.
[11:30] Any advice on how to fry an egg with a perfectly runny yolk?
(11:32) You like runny yolks??? 🤢 (11:33) It's scrambled or nothing for me (11:33) Cant help ya even if I wanted to
[11:35] I just want an egg on my avo toast
Normally Robin fried the eggs for breakfast. Her yolks were always perfect. But unlike Steve, she'd actually scored last night and was still with whoever she'd gone home with last night.
Eddie couldn't help but roll his eyes at the cliche. A guy who jogged and then came back home for some avocado toast with an egg on top? He just had to let his stance be known.
(11:35) Next ur gonna tell me bout your acai smoothie bowl rite? (11:36) Avo toast? Really???
Steve realized how he was coming off and had to quickly amend it.
[11:38] It's not what you think! We only got the avocados to make some guac the other day. There was one left and I wanted to use it before it went bad. And I'm all guac'd out. Hence the toast.
(11:39) At least you didn't use the avocado to make like ice cream or some shit
Finished with his own, normal, regular, average citizen breakfast, Eddie cleared his place and started to actually get ready for the day. His shift went from 2 to 10 tonight, so he needed to prepare for the long haul.
While brushing his teeth, getting dressed, and making something for his lunch later, he and Steve kept up the texts. Through their conversation he found out Steve's favorite ice cream (peanut butter), that he could cook eggs just about any way except sunny side up, and that he lived with a roommate named Robin.
Eddie got to his place of work and in a place like that you need to have some semblance of focus and attention, so he told Steve he had to get to work. He realized he was basically saying 'busy now, text you later?' to a stranger he'd only started talking to last night. Steve was completely in his rights to end the conversation there.
He could've ended it at any time really. What obligation did he have to keep on talking to him?
[2:01] Okay. Talk to you later
Steve stared at the message, already in the middle of agonizing over it when Robin finally came through the door of their apartment.
"Good afternoon. I wanna feel offended that I didn't get any texts or calls asking if I'm okay but I'm gonna choose to think it means you trust me and are a great judge of character."
For the first time in a while, Steve checked the time and actually realized how long it had been.
"Shit, Robs, I'm sorry." It had been over 12 hours and he hadn't checked in on her. All because he'd been texting a random number. "So you had a good time?"
Steve had been sitting on the couch and Robin plopped right down, laying her head in his lap.
"It was magical. Like something out of a movie."
"Aren't you glad I made you go and talk to her?", Steve smiled smug.
Robin smushed his face with her hands with a groan. "Don't look at me like that. You were right, okay? Me and her hit it off like, like uh, one of your sports metaphors."
"Robin you were in a soccer league just last year, stop acting like you don't know sports."
"Anyway, something grand must've kept your attention off me. Things go well with that girl you were talking to?"
"Umm, yeah."
Robin sat up, eyes narrowing. "And you came back here with her? Gross! Steve! Did you do it on the couch?!" She shot up immediately.
"I didn't", Steve rolled his eyes.
It was one of their main rules. No sex in the common areas of the apartment. Steve wasn't gonna tell her about the wrong number given to him. And he especially wasn't going to tell her he kept talking to it. The following lecture would have been unbearable.
"She gave me her number and we've just been texting back and forth."
Robin slowly sat back down on the couch. "Just texting? That's all you did?"
"That's all."
"Wow. You usually move faster than that."
"Well, I want something a little more this time. But enough about my snail pace romance. Let's talk about you and that girl, what was her name?"
He and Robin sat a long while, talking about her night, eventually going out for lunch together too. Not-Misty had said they were at work, but Steve couldn't help himself when he saw that Robin had ordered a burger with avocado on it and Steve had gotten a taco salad that came with, you guessed it, avocado.
[3:14] image.jpeg [314] Okay me and Robin might have a problem. But I swear it's not on purpose!
"Did you just send a picture of our lunch to someone?", Robin asked.
"Yeah to uh, to Misty. We were talking about avocados earlier and I figured she'd get a kick out of it."
Robin smiled through her chewing. She teased but she was glad that her friend had made a connection last night.
Meanwhile, Eddie saw the message, but didn't have a chance to reply, even on his lunch break. Through all the texting, he had forgotten to charge his phone, so it was on the plug and he was leaving it alone for now while he talked to his co-worker, Grant. He went through the rest of his shift, thinking about Steve.
What did he look like? How old was he? Where did he live?
He got off and made his way back home, stopping off somewhere to get dinner. It was a sandwich shop and he honestly contemplated getting avocado on his just to see Steve's reaction but he resisted.
'I can't be that down bad that I'm overthinking food now', he thought to himself.
When he got back home, he turned the tv on and took out his phone to reply to Steve right away.
(10:31) Back at home now (10:32) Work was crazy (10:34) And the 1st step to recovery is admitting u have a problem (10:36) But thru hard work we can get you addicted to a sensible veggie (10:37) Like broccoli
He thought since he kept Steve waiting for so long it might take some time for a reply to come, but his phone pinged almost immediately.
[10:39] First of all, avocado is a fruit. Second, I eat plenty of other vegetables. And third, what happened at work?
(10:41) It may be a fruit but I dont want it in my smoothie (10:42) And some guy came in and started throwing axes at the wall
Sunday evenings were usually more relaxed. It was why Eddie typically didn't work Friday or Saturday nights unless he needed some extra cash or they needed someone on deck.
[10:44] Hold the duck up someone was throwing axes!! [10:44] *duck [10:45] *FUCK
Eddie snickered through his eating and had to take a moment to swallow before something came up. He always enjoyed telling people what he did for a living.
(10:46) Cool your jets man (10:47) I work at an axe throwing range (10:48) The problem with this dude was he didn't have an appointment (10:48) Just came in and started throwing an axe at the wall
[10:50] Are you okay? That sounds dangerous
(10:50) My uncle handled it (10:51) Eventually the dude left
[10:52] Oh wow. Well I'm glad you're okay. Axe throwing tho. What an interesting job for someone of your age? 🤷
Steve was lying in bed and he buried his face into his pillow as he sent it with the shrug emoji. It was so transparent, he knew it. But he needed to have a better idea of who he was talking to. That way when Robin did eventually find out, he'd be able to tell her something, anything.
(10:53) Smooth (10:53) I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours
Eddie knew now was the time to be cautious. But he was also curious as to how much Steve would tell him and just what he wanted to know. He wasn't disappointed.
[10:54] Male, 23, 5'11
It was like the bare minimum of information and yet Eddie was already aggressively tamping down any hope that he might have a chance. Without his permission, hope bubbled up anyway
(10:55) Male, 24 going on 25, also 5'11
Steve stared at the text with the mystery person, mystery man's information. It seemed like so little and yet so much. He still hadn't an idea of what he looked like. But now he could at least get a general silhouette.
(10:56) Ur not one of those guys who lies about his height are you?
[10:57] Robin says my hair gives me two inches but she has no idea what she's talking about.
Eddie was thinking about how Steve must wear his hair. It could be in a sizeable pompadour, or maybe a nice afro. Maybe it was in a bun all the time? That was not what he typed out however.
(10:59) You know what they say (10:59) It's not the size but what u do with it
Okay this was it. This was where Steve stopped texting him. You can't just say that to guys you don't know-ping!
Eddie bit his lip and only had one eye open as he looked at Steve reply, preparing for the worst.
[11:01] Oh I know how to use my inches
Eddie dropped his phone onto the table and had to get up and pace, touch his face, his hair, throwing his hands in the air. Was this flirting? This felt like flirting. He wished he knew for sure. Maybe it was the lack of emoji. Had Steve put a winking face, he'd know for certain. Eddie leaned against his fridge, staring at his phone, sitting innocently on the table.
On the other side, Steve was burying his face into his pillow, pretending he didn't just say that. Would it come off as playful? As flirty? As casual? Should he have sent a wink? The seconds ticked and it felt too late. Like coughing after saying something awkward.
God, he was so desperate. Why was he even still texting? He had work in the morning. He should start preparing for bed so he had any hope of getting up on time. Steve pushed off the bed and went to his closet when he heard the notification sound and instantly returned.
(11:05) Let's get out the measuring tape (11:05) image.jpeg
Steve felt his heart skip a beat. The picture attached was of the very top of mystery man's head. He was holding up a lock of long, curly hair into the air. Steve studied the picture like he was getting paid to do it. He couldn't see any lower than the bangs on his forehead but there was still plenty to see.
The rings on his fingers for one, how his curls went this way and that. Steve quickly saved it and then replied with a similar pose, holding some hair by the fingers as far as it would go above his head.
[11:07] image.jpeg [11:08] I think you have me beat
They texted for about an hour more before Steve finally decided to be an adult and put himself to sleep, bidding mystery man good night.
Part 3
Fun fact, years ago I worked at an axe throwing place and yes, what happened to Eddie did in fact happen to me! On like my first week too I think
Tag Team
@anne-bennett-cosplayer @estrellami-1 @newtstabber @omletlove @ifyoudonlysurrender @rehfan @morganski-19 @corvidcantina @dragonmama76 @just-ladyme @tinyplanet95 @lolawonsstuff @goodolefashionedloverboi @idoquitelikebread @kittydeadbones @manda-panda-monium @rhapsodyinalto @paintsplatteredandimperfect @keylime-green @ihavekidneys @samsoble @honorarybrit81 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @420-hun @aizawa-emma @deleataecount @thesuninyaface
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realbeefman · 7 months
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house would put a tracker on wilson’s car to monitor where he is at all times but. then wilson would find out and start purposefully fucking with him. como he’ll leave the tracker in the parking lot of a strip club while he goes grocery shopping and then watch house lose his mind later over why wilson went to the strip club and didn’t invite house along
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blackcathjp · 2 months
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ppl seem to like the idea of harry courting draco or harry doing big public displays of affection to ask him out (think promposals). but i feel like he'd be so awkward at dating. he doesn't quite know what to do with or show physical and emotional affection, the weasleys give him bad advice on romance, he's also oblivious when ppl are interested in him.
what he does have is earnestness and determination - he makes the first move on accident, just bursts out his feelings, brave and embarrassed.
draco knows all about courting and respects tradition, but he's not the type to make the first move (not anymore at least, not like when he was a kid, where running to his parents for safety and comfort was a luxurious option). he's calculating and weighs his options - what if he confesses but harry doesn't like him? what if he confesses and harry DOES like him? what if harry likes him, but doesn't like dating him? he's more hesitant and guarded with his feelings, but is more likely to show his affection towards loved ones.
harry asks him out in the middle of a conversation, just because he loves watching how passionate draco gets about something he loves. even after weeks of dating, draco insists on courting him the "proper way", showering him with gifts, writing letters that make harry blush, leaving loving post-its all over harry's home and work desk, delivering anonymous flowers, publicly asking if he can escort harry home (they're both embarrassed). he's touchy feely too, which harry isn't used to, but physical contact becomes easy and second nature now with draco. harry doesn't quite get the courting, yet still loves it.
harry: you already have me, draco 😊😆
draco: i still want to woo you though 🥹😤
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theminecraftbee · 24 days
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“So do you think he gets the irony that it’s sand?” Scar asks, staring up at the towering hourglass above them.
“Really? You’re gonna be the one to call that out?” Tango responds, bemused.
Scar has to crane his neck to see the top of the hourglass to an uncomfortable degree; he really can’t lean that much further back in his wheelchair without causing problems. He can already feel the ache in his spine. It just seems appropriate to stare up at the thing itself if he’s going to be pointing out irony and literary devices about it.
“Now, listen. I’ve thought a whole lot about sand, Tango! And about how much money Doc’s about to make me as the only exchange in town for the much easier to collect diamonds. I enjoy shoveling, Tango! When it’s too hard to think or move or talk, I can go out there with my power shovel and just dig and dig and dig. I’ve cleared deserts practically on my own. It’s meditative. No, no exchange rate is going to beat me, and I can set it to whatever I want.”
Scar finally looks down again, resisting the urge to rub his neck. He grins at Tango, the sharp and wild smile he’s practiced so long. Tango is making a face.
“Geez. Okay man. I thought the dramatic villain speeches were for Doc. Also? None of that was irony.”
“Right, right, sorry, I’m rambling,” Scar says. “The thing is, I’ve thought a lot about hourglasses, about sand, and the thing Tango is that sand is effe—effermil—oh, shoot, I know this—effeminate?”
Tango wheezes. “I can’t believe I thought you were going somewhere with that. Sand is effeminate?”
“No, no, no, I mean, sand isn’t permanent. It goes away. You don’t get to keep it. Poof! It’s gone,” Scar says grumpily. “See, that would have been cool if you’d let me finish.”
Tango looks up at the hourglass himself and shrugs. “Looks like he’s planning on making it permanent pretty well.”
“Yeah, but look—if he’s trying to invoke the sands of time, that’s even more effeminate than regular sand! Before he knows it… poof. Slips right between your fingers! Impossible to hold onto! Can’t trust sand! I of all people would know. That’s why I’m selling it!” Scar makes a hand motion. He grins at Tango. Tango grimaces.
“You know, you might have some issues to work through, man.”
“I mean, sure, but…” Scar gestures at the hourglass. “You know, they say if your build stays bigger than the others for more than a few hours, you should really call your—”
“Okay,” Tango says. “I’m gonna cut you off right there buddy.”
“You never let me finish,” Scar says.
“And that’s officially worse,” Tango says.
“But I definitely lasted longer than mister pay in sand—”
“Devs, if you’re merciful, let a creeper explode right now,” Tango says. “If your sands of time are so impermanent, why am I trapped in this conversation?”
“My charming good looks,” Scar says. “Anyway, do you want to prank that thing or what?”
“Literally everyone wants to prank that thing. Nothing has ever screamed ‘prank me’ as much as that stupid hourglass has. I’m in. Tell me the plan,” Tango says, and Scar hums and makes his pitch. He hears the echoes of drops of sand on glass and sand on stone and sand on sand behind him, and thinks to himself: it’s an awfully good thing that it’s a good day to make new mistakes, or this would all have ended rather differently.
The universe gave him a sand monopoly, after all.
And Scar, well, he knows a few things about trying to hold onto sand.
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Text
The Interview
Inspired by this post by @xoxoladyaz. Read on Ao3.
-
Eddie wakes up to one single missed call from Gareth on his private phone.
No one calls his private phone.
He dials back instantly.
"Hey Eddie," Gareth greets. He sounds tired.
"What's up? What's happened?" Eddie asks, a thousand and one scenarios running through his mind. Gareth is in Indianapolis, and Eddie's thoughts are filled with only his uncle back in Hawkins.
"Nothing's happened that we can't deal with, or rather, that I've already been dealing with. But, uhh, there's an interview you should watch. Let me send you a link-" there's a pause as Gareth does just that "-and just call me back after you've watched it. I know we usually ignore the shit people say about us but this- it's different."
"Okayyyy," Eddie says slowly. "I'll watch it."
They hang up without goodbye because Eddie's just going to call him back after the video. Opening his messages he sees the link, and then Gareth sent a follow up text you need to watch from 12:32 onward.
The video is nearly two weeks old already, and YouTube shows him a face he knows. Robin Buckley looks older but it's definitely her. Her hair isn't styled much differently than she had it in high school, just above her shoulders and a little wild. She's wearing a three piece suit in emerald green, slightly oversized on purpose by the look of it. She's sitting in a chair, cradling a grammy with one arm, as the interviewer sits across from her.
Eddie taps the screen and drags the progress bar closer to the 12-minute mark and listens. He hears the tail end of Robin's response to some question about her album before the interviewer asks what must be the question Gareth wants him to listen to.
'So, I think everyone is dying to know if you and Eddie Munson are friends. You're both from Hawkins, Indiana. Isn't that correct?' the interviewer asks.
Robin's smile slips a bit, 'I- uhh, this is going to be unprofessional of me but I made a promise to someone regarding if I was ever asked about Eddie Munson. So, can I have one minute to make a phone call before I answer your question?'
'Oh. By all means, make your call.'
Eddie watches as Robin is brought her phone by someone who is probably her personal assistant. She wastes no time in unlocking it and finding whoever in her contacts list.
'No time for formalities. I've been asked about Munson. Can I tell the truth?' Robin's mic isn't strong enough to pick up whatever answer she gets on the phone but she shakes her head to whatever answer she's been given. 'I told you, I love you more than this career and I've already got the grammy. I'll handle the fallout. It's not about me. It's about you.' What follows is a few seconds of silence before Robin nods and says goodbye, ending the call and passing the phone back to the PA.
The interviewer's eyebrows are up to her hairline in shock. 'That sounds ominous. You think it's career ending?'
Robin grins and it's almost feral. 'Corroded Coffin's fans have always been ruthless, and perhaps a bit heartless, so what I have to say will certainly set them on the attack. To answer your original question, yes, Eddie Munson and I are from Hawkins. We even shared band class in high school, but that's the end of what connects us. We are not friends, but we once were.'
'Can you elaborate on that?'
'Our friendship ended ten years ago when he ruined my best friend's life for fame and fortune, and Steve's never really known a day of peace since.'
Eyes wide, the interviewer leans closer, 'Steve? As in, Hey Steve, Steve?'
Robin nods, 'Just the one.'
'Are you prepared to talk about how one song ruined your friend's life?'
'That was the purpose of the phone call. Yes, I think people should know the truth. Munson vented his bullshit breakup rage into a song and fucked off out of town. A week after its release, his fans doxxed Steve. He wasn't out to his parents, you see, and Corroded Coffin's fans, Eddie Munson's fans, outed him. They sent hate mail to his house by the ton, it seemed. The fallout from that- the aftermath-' Robin cuts off as her eyes water and she swipes at them, smearing some mascara across her cheek. 'I'm sorry. I almost lost my best friend, the platonic love of my life, that day.
'It's public knowledge, what happened, you can look it up online if you know what to look for. But it is also so incredibly personal. I want to be the one to say this because it's important. What you do in life, it has consequences, and sometimes those consequences are for other people. Whether you think it will, or not. I'd rather people hear it from a human voice, from someone who loves Steve, and not the journalist view. No offense,' Robin shoots the interviewer a sweet smile.
'None taken, please continue.'
'Steve was hospitalized, I won't give the details,' Robin says, in a watery voice as she's clearly trying to not cry at the memory. 'When Steve was finally released from the hospital, there was no one but me to pick him up. And he's going through this while nursing a broken heart. He and Munson had only been broken up for maybe a month before Hey Steve came out.
'In less than two months, Steve had lost his parents, his home, all his belongings, and the man he thought he'd marry one day. And to top it off, that man gets to become rich and famous off a venomous, hate-filled song about their breakup. It talks about Steve like he's coward for not willing to be out, yet, and how... what's the line, about conformity?'
'Conformity holds your leash, baby, so run to the end of your chain and bark,' someone off camera shouts.
'Yes, that, thanks. Accusing Steve of picking 'conformity' over his love. Steve wasn't picking conformity, he was picking safety! And the worst part? The hate mail has never stopped. Steve lived with me and my family for a few months after getting out of the hospital before the hate mail got too much, and someone showed up at my childhood home, looking for him, threatening him. They had a gun. It was traumatic. I was still in my senior year of high school-' Robin cuts off, taking deep breaths.
The interviewer reaches across to place a comforting hand on Robin's, 'I can't even imagine what that must have been like.'
Once Robin has composed herself, she says, 'sorry, this is a lot. I've had ten years to come to terms with it, and I've waited seven for someone to ask me about Munson. I didn't think it would be this hard.
'And it's not- I can't blame Munson, or Corroded Coffin, for everything that happened. He doesn't control his fans. But he's never said anything about the treatment his fans give Steve. And if they're like this towards Steve, are they like this towards all his other ex's? Does Munson not care, or, almost worse, does he not even know?' she stops again, getting a faraway look for a moment before looking at the interviewer again. 'I had to help Steve move again. Just last month. They're still finding him. Sending him hate. Doxxing him.' Now she looks at the camera directly, "Eddie Munson. Call off your fans. Stop playing Hey Steve at concerts. Isn't a decade of hurt enough?'
There isn't a lot that makes Eddie feel anything these days, he'll admit. A decade of fame has made him a bit cynical and callus. However, Robin had said something that made his insides squirm. He swipes across the screen, rewinding the video to hear Robin say Steve had lost his parents, his home, all his belongings, and the man he thought he'd marry one day. Swipe. -ents, his home, all his belongings, and the man he thought he'd marry one day. Swipe. The man he thought he'd marry one day. Swipe. Marry one day.
He pauses the video. That can't be right. That has to be a lie Robin is adding. To garner more sympathy or make Eddie, and therefore Corroded Coffin, look worse. Steve and he had been young and naive when they'd dated. There was no way they'd have ended up married, even if Eddie had stuck around Hawkins longer. Gay marriage wasn't even legal when they broke up in 2013.
Eddie unpauses, skips forward to the end and listens to Robin speak directly to him. Stop playing Hey Steve? The song that rocketed Corroded Coffin into the limelight? No way. And call off his fans? Like they're dogs he's supposed to control or something. The video ends and the YouTube algorithm shows him a number of react videos. Eddie clicks on one and falls down the rabbit hole.
At first the algorithm shows him responses in his favor. Videos made by his fans defending him, or strategically picking apart what Robin had said. Eddie wants to agree with them, he doesn't think he's done anything wrong other than live his life, but then.
Then a video of a guy wearing merch sold during their tour last year plays. He's on the right side of the video while a screen recording is on the left. It takes him less than five minutes to get Steve's past addresses found. And Eddie is... well, he's a little horrified at how long the list is. At the short amount of time Steve's spent in any one place is.
The guy in the video reads out the state, city, and how long Steve lived at each address. The longest one is when Steve made the jump from Florida to Maine, where he lived for 19 months according to the video, and that was years ago.
And then the guy, he fucking starts to speculate about where Steve might have moved to next.
"We can't know for sure, but it looks like he headed back west? You can see from the last 3 addresses he's been just jumping state lines to the next place. I'm guessing Oklahoma, Kansas or Nebraska next. If Steve thinks he can try and ruin Corroded Coffin through Robin Buckley, then it's up to us to prove him wrong," the guy is saying, and Eddie thinks maybe this guy is just exaggerating but the comment section is already filled with other people saying vile shit about what they should send to Steve or what they'd like to do to him physically and-
Eddie clicks off the video, to the next recommended. The more he watches, the angrier they seem to get. He goes to the search bar and looks for new react videos.
He finds that everyone has an opinion. He watches videos where his own fans express their disappointment in him. They talk about how Corroded Coffin runs an antibully campaign and then allows their fans to bully an ex and for not calling out the ones doxxing people, wanting to know which was the reason - does Eddie not know, or does he not care? Eddie didn't know. Truly. But he can't help but wonder if he didn't know because he didn't care.
He'd written all his feelings into a song, and now that he's older, he can see that a lot of what he was feeling is an exaggeration and dramatization of what really happened. But the point is, he'd written out his feelings and moved on.
The man he thought he'd marry one day.
His stomach twists uncomfortably as Robin's voice rings in his mind.
He continues his spiral down YouTube until Gareth calling him again breaks through and he answers.
"How is this the first time I'm hearing about Robin's interview?" Eddie demands.
"You've got a damn good PR team, that's how. I guess you fell down the rabbit hole, then?"
"How'd you-"
"Is been almost 4 hours since we talked. Doesn't take that long to watch a 30 minute video."
"Oh. Alright. So, why did you want me to watch the video? Am I supposed to respond to Robin?"
"No. People don't actually want to hear from you. They want to hear from Steve. And that's why you needed to watch. 'Cause Robin's announced that Steve's finally ready to make a statement. Robin's going to post it on her Twitter. Tonight. So, we've got to be ready. If anything Robin said turns out to be true, we might have a problem on our hands. A slander lawsuit being just the beginning."
"Fuck."
"What a way to sum it up," Gareth chuckles into the phone before his tone becomes serious, "hey, how are you doing, though? With it all?"
He thinks about it, and how he really feels, before answering. "It's been years since I've thought about Steve, y'know? I... I've had that luxury. I didn't know.... Did you?"
"No. Hell no! I'd of said something. I mean, shit man, we run an antibully campaign 'cause high school was shit to us. If I'd known at all we'd have been telling them to fuck off. Harassment's just what they call bullying adults."
Eddie swallows. "Guess we just have to wait and see what Stevie has to say."
"I'd come sit on the couch with you and refresh twitter frantically but, well, Indy's a bit of a ways off. I'll call after Robin's posted, then?"
"Yeah, man. Let's see the damage," Eddie sighed. "Talk to ya later."
"Bye."
Eddie digs out his laptop and pulls up Robin's twitter page. He adds an auto-refresher extension and sets it to refresh every minute before opening his phone and pulling up YouTube again.
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starflungwaddledee · 3 months
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from: @starflungwaddledee to: @post-it-notes7
message from santa: "happy holidays post-it-notes! 🎄🥳 i know you very politely only wished for a few modest things- characters high fiving, or struggling in christmas attire- but i hope you'll still enjoy this given that i kinda went the opposite direction entirely! i'm an enormous fan of your work and most times you post anything i wind up browsing your art tag from tip-to-tail in enraptured delight. as such, i thought it was only fair i give back something a little more significant in gratitude for all the joy your work has given me. i knew i wanted to do a comic, so i was thrilled you already had a whole storyverse for me to work from!! this scene seemed the most obvious choice (chapter 8 of "wishful thinking" on ao3) given that i enjoy a dramatic fight scene 😂 i tried to stick as beat-by-beat to the writing as i could and worked in as many details as possible; i hope it'll be fun to see it envisioned this way! merry christmas! ~starflung 🎀🔔 "
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zaruba-needslove · 1 year
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Due to recent issue with some people arguing about how ‘AO3 should have algorithm’ and such... I feel like these tweets need to be shared out more. Saw this tweets thread by chance and I had to admit it's a great advice esp on fic writing or fanworks in general.
[Edit] Also since I noticed this post blowing up, if anyone ever tell you that AO3 doesn’t have a function to RECCOMMEND fics you like to others or read other people’s fic recs on the site point them to this post.
[Edit 2] Check source for the original tweet.
[Edit 3] Not OP, but usually when ppl talk about ‘rude or demanding comments’ it usually refers to those that tend to message fanwriters to write according to what they want to be either on the flow of the plot, shipping, etc to the point of harrassment/toxicity. And that would make writing not be fun anymore for some. 
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lees-chaotic-brain · 3 months
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How would jjk men react to reader being pregnant with quadruplets?
Feat. Gojo, Yuta, Inumaki, Nanami, Megumi, Itadori (all characters are aged up)
Note: I did headcanons for this request because there were so many characters I wanted to include, and it would get a little boring to write the same scenario out in a full fledged fic like seven times. However, if there are one or two that you want me to turn into proper fics lmk!! I had to do research on pregnancy for this bc it's been awhile since my high school health class
CW: pregnancy, implied thoughts of abortion ig, mentions of fear regarding labor, AFAB reader bc, yk, pregnancy, one singular swear word
Word Count: 1.2k
JJK Masterlist | Blog Navigation
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Gojo
I feel like Gojo would think you were joking at first, and wouldn’t believe you until you got frustrated and he finally realized you were being for real. He would have mixed emotions. On one hand, he was excited to have a big family and a house full of laughter and love. On the other hand, he was afraid, because more babies meant more defenseless mini-people for him to protect.
He had only known that he was going to be a father of quadruplets a few minutes ago, but he already knew that it would destroy him if he ever lost one of them. That he would gladly give his life for them. And then there was the matter of you. He already knew that childbirth was difficult for women, but quadruplets?? Childbirth was something that even he couldn’t protect you from and that terrified him. 
After a serious discussion in which he made sure you were okay with the added risks and you continuously reassured him that this was what you wanted, he settled down and began imagining a future for your family. Until he realized that he would have to share your love with four little gremlins who would surely take after their clingy father. Then it suddenly seemed less appealing.
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Yuta
Baby boy would be shooketh. Because he’s sorry please don’t be mad at him and oh you’re not mad at him and the two of you are having quadruplets well technically you are but he’s the dad and oh god what if he’s not good at being a dad and-
You would have to calm him down as he fell into a downward spiral. Once you had properly reassured him, and he had fully absorbed the information he was ecstatic. He has always wanted a big family, and together the two of you were making that dream come true. Cuddling up to you he would thank you for loving him and gifting him with the many kids he had always dreamed of having.
He for sure would be the type to rub your stomach and whisper sweet nothings to the growing babies in your womb, telling them how much daddy loves them and how excited he is to meet them.
He would also start baby-proofing every square inch of your house before you had even started your second trimester.
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Inumaki
He would be in shock. Because he put- wait how many??? babies in you. There was no way he heard you right. There was no way that you were pregnant with quadruplets. Because, wait, he didn't sign up for this! Yeah, he wanted tons of kids, but four babies at a time was a lot. And the strain it would have on your body was concerning as well. 
After he stopped opening and closing his mouth as he gaped at you, he managed to organize his thoughts. First he wanted to make sure you even wanted that many kids because, well, it wouldn’t be easy to give birth to or take care of that many. Once you had reassured him that you were, in fact, sure that you wanted to go through with the pregnancy and that you were prepared for whatever the future held for your not-so-little family he took a moment to process his own emotions.
At first he was conflicted. Sure he was excited, but he held his own private reservations. What if something went wrong during labor? What if he wasn’t cut out to be the parent of one kid, let alone four. But as the months sped by and your stomach grew, the anticipation grew, until one day he let go of any and all trepidation and allowed himself to be optimistic.
He also bought tons of matching onesies for the whole family.
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Nanami
Ever the responsible adult and caring husband, first he sat you down and had a serious discussion about the pros and cons of having quadruplets, and whether or not the risks were worth it. Deep down he was thrilled, but he wanted to make sure the two of you were on the same page and understood what continuing meant.
Once the two of you had established you were going to see this through, and it was something the two of you wanted his planning would begin. First came the research. He thoroughly educated himself on everything regarding pregnancy, learning everything he needed to do to ensure your comfort and the healthy birth of his children.
Expect a special diet plan that fulfills the needs of you and your unborn children in the healthiest way possible, essential oil massages, weekly check-ups starting your second trimester, vitamin gummies and more.
He also would begin saving up because raising four children would be expensive. Would for sure have a whole financial plan set up and college savings accounts set up for each of his children within a week of his learning.
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Megumi
Honestly, he wouldn’t have super strong feelings about it. He wanted to be a dad, but he didn’t care if it was one, four, or one hundred. He just wanted to have kids with you, and beyond that as long as you were happy he was too. 
So when you told him, his only response was asking you what you thought about it. When you told him you were excited, he was excited too. He had wanted to build his own family for as long as he could remember, and you were helping him reach his dream. What more could he ask for? The only other thing that mattered to him was that his children had siblings. As a kid he had resented Tsumiki, but as an adult he couldn’t imagine the loneliness he would have experienced growing up without her. So yeah. If you were happy, and his children would have siblings so they would never have to walk through life alone, he was content.
There was nothing more he wanted in life than your love and a family with you.
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Itadori
Kids!!! He had wanted a ton of kids, so this was perfect! You were happy with it, so even better! He sees it as a four-in-one deal, and is over the moon. His golden retriever personality becomes even worse when you’re pregnant. Like, this man is at your side 24/7.
Constantly following you around, looking at you with big pleading eyes as he begs to cuddle in bed with you so he can talk to your stomach.
Oh my god talking to your stomach. This man would talk to your stomach more than he talks to you. Asking what your kids want to be named. Telling your unborn babies about his day. That he loves them and can’t wait to meet them. Describes all the fun things the six of you are going to do once they’re born. Definitely tries cuddling your stomach because he ‘wants to know what it feels like to hold his children.’
Also is a little shit that constantly asks ‘are they coming yet? Why not??’
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izvmimi · 11 months
Text
"angel, wake up."
it takes him a few tries, but he can nudge you awake with a kiss, and through sleep-blurred eyes, you're staring into katsuki's handsome face, his eyes still soft with the tenderness of his words. you're not completely awake from your mid-afternoon nap, but you look at the clock, realizing that he's back early from his shift, and before you can ask him why, he crawls up into bed with you.
you let him move you gently and shift you into a comfortable position, nestled into the side of his body, and let your head rest on his shoulder. you haven't felt right in your own skin for days, and the feeling still hasn't gone away with emergency slumber, but this helps - the feeling of your love holding you close and quietly, supporting your very soul with his.
"they let you off early," you murmur after you sit for a couple moments, while he allows you to wake up fully.
"got deku to take over the rest of my shift."
"why?" you ask, looking up at him. he smiles at you, but it's not his usual cheeky grin, rather a look laced with something between genuine affection and concern. his hand intertwines with yours and places it in his lap, stroking the back of your hand softly with his thumb.
"you need me," he replies. with that, he kisses you on the top of the head then lets his hand pat at the crown.
you blink back a few tears, then shake your head.
"i'm fine. it's okay."
he huffs, then looks towards the window. you follow his gaze, but he's not looking at anything in particular, just collecting his thoughts.
"i thought about what you said the other day."
your head tilts, and then he looks back towards you.
"about me wishing you were different."
your mouth forms a small o, and he studies your expression for a moment, then presses his forehead to yours.
"i was just having a bad time," you whisper, then your face warms as you remember there's no one but the two of you in the room. louder this time you repeat, "i shouldn't have said all of that."
he frowns.
"i need to know what i can do so that you never feel that way again."
you shake your head, feeling tears come to your eyes again.
"it will pass," you insist, but your voice comes out as a croak.
he sighs, and pulls you closer.
"yeah... but at least, let me make sure i'm always there for you."
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littlejuicebox · 3 months
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Hi! I'm not sure if you take requests so if you don't, please ignore this and I hope you had a wonderful Christmas.
I just read your Astarion X Tav fanfic where Astarion proposes. It is said that the ring he got glows whenever Astarion thinks of Tav. I was just wondering if you could write a slice of life about the ring glowing at the most random times. Maybe during a stealth mission where Tav has to stay hidden or when he is smiling in his sleep and the ring glows. I just thought it would be cute and fun to write about. You can get creative with it.
Thank you for taking the time to read this, whether you end up doing this request or not. I hope you had an amazing Christmas and I hope you will have an amazing New Year's!
Hi Anon! I don’t think this is quite what you were asking for but… this is what came out! 🤷‍♀️ The smut gods blessed me and I cannot deny their gifts. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year! Smut below the cut.
If you haven’t read my other work and would like context, Anon is referencing a two part mini story I wrote. Click here for part 1, and click here for part 2.
Warnings/Tags: 18+ only please, smut, masturbation, sex pollen, swearing/cursing, game spoilers
Word Count: 1.5K
-----
“I think we’re just… a bit out of practice, darling. It has been nearly a year since we were down here last, you know.” Astarion whispers, crouched next to you behind a Funguswood tree. He’s wiping bits of dirt, twigs, and mushroom pollen off himself with a handkerchief.
“Admit it, Astarion. You just weren’t fast enough.” You respond with a small, teasing poke of your tongue as you rearrange your weaponry and count your arrows.
The pale elf finishes wiping off the debris, and you return your attentions to the mission. You’d been contracted to scout out the vampire stronghold in the Underdark and report your findings back to Wyll and the Flaming Fists. Rumor was that the vampire hoard had wreaked absolute havoc on the Underdark; the city feared the creatures would soon return to the surface if they could not find sustenance here.
“Would you have preferred I let that wild Rothé ram you into those mushrooms in my stead?!” Astarion hisses in return while rubbing his hand over his arm, which now felt unbelievably tingly and was starting to radiate significant warmth, “Hells, what mushrooms were those, anyway?!”
You stifle a chuckle, knowing your fiancé is already past his limits of patience. You two need to get to the scouting point, set up camp, and hunker down for a few days… all while avoiding detection from the vampires or any other nefarious creatures in the Underdark. Best to do it without an ornery Astarion by your side.
“I don’t know what mushrooms those were. I’ve never seen them before.” You admit with a small shrug, “Come on my love, not much further now and then we can get you properly cleaned up.”
Astarion follows behind you in silence, apart from the occasional cursing and swiping at his skin. Gods, the heat had spread up his entire arm now. The scratching seemed to make it worse, but by the hells, he couldn’t stop no matter how much he wanted to. The two of you finally got to the cragged rock that led to a small cave where you would make camp, and he never felt more relieved in his life. He couldn’t wait to clean himself properly and be done with this burning sensation.
You glance at him briefly and then begin climbing the rock. Astarion remains below to keep you covered in case anything decides to attack while you’re left defenseless. He looks up to watch your progress and cannot help but to notice the overwhelmingly attractive curve of your bottom. It was always attractive, of course, but something about it in this moment was entirely… irresistible. Had you been working out recently in preparation for the wedding?
You’re halfway through climbing the rock when your engagement ring bursts into a spray of light. It often glows significantly at the surface, but in the blackness of the Underdark, you’re practically a beacon. Your stomach drops. Gods, how had you forgotten to take it off?
“Astarion!” You hiss in a panicked whisper, “Cut it out! Every being in all of the Underdark will know our position.”
Astarion had realized the issue as soon as the light had flared, of course. He was trying desperately to avoid thinking of you and all the delicious things he wanted to do when you two made camp, but gods he couldn’t control it. What in the hells was wrong with him? He wanted to stop, to ensure your safety, but your plump, perfect ass was practically calling his name, begging for his attention, and he wanted nothing more than to bend you over and—
He shakes his head, trying to rattle the lewd fantasies from his psyche, “I’m trying, my love! I don’t know what’s come over me I just—“
Hags. Hideous shoes. Ghouls. Manual labor. Gale.
The pale elf tries to think of all the most grotesque, unsexy things he can and push you entirely from his mind. You continue to climb, hoping to quickly reach the top and take off your ring as soon as possible. The ring is still glowing like a single star in the blackest night.
Ogres. The smell of Araj’s blood. Rats. Gale.
Gods, it was useless.
Finally, you reach the top. You rip the ring off your finger and shove it in your pack as soon as your limbs land on the surface of the cave. Astarion quickly scales the rock behind you, and when he reaches the top, you’re positively glaring at him.
“Darling, I’m sorry! I really tried. It’s just— gods damn these mushrooms!” The vampire is ripping off his shirt and scratching at his skin as the two of you walk into the little cave. Before long he’s down to his knickers and cursing as he rubs desperately at his flesh.
You’re trying to ignore your fiancé and quickly pitch the tent so you can handle whatever the hells is going on with him. A sideways glance to your pack reveals that the ring is still glowing quite intensely… perhaps more than it ever has before. Was that even possible? At any rate, you can’t get closer to the stronghold with it glowing like that.
“Astarion, I don’t know what—“ You spin around, and you’re surprised to see the elf fully nude on his blanket, doing perhaps the most provocative thing you’ve ever witnessed.
Astarion is beaded in sweat by now, and his hands are wandering over himself, chasing the burning tingle as it travels through his body. Gods, the feeling was becoming absolutely unbearable. He kept seeing visions of you and him in the throes of passion in his mind.
He couldn’t stop even if he wanted to. Did he want to stop? He couldn’t decide. All he knew was the intense tingling and burning coursing through his veins and the wonderful fantasies filling his brain. He needed release from this torture; his limbs were on fire and the sensation was spreading to his groin.
The elf knows by the throbbing pulse in his cock that his erection is at full capacity, and he feels the dribbles of precum slowly sliding from the head, down the shaft. Astarion is, admittedly embarrassed knowing you are mere feet away and witnessing such an erratic show, but he grabs his own cock regardless— gods, it felt like being possessed. He needed release and he needed it now.
As his fingers wrap around his shaft, a burst of relief travels through his body. The tingling ceases for a moment. But then, it flares again and he’s consumed by the burning feeling and vulgar thoughts of the two of you once more. He pumps his hand a few times, bucking into the sensation, and once again the torturous tingle halts.
What in the hells?
Astarion is now rolling his hips towards his own hand, groaning in pure ecstasy at the relief from the burn as well as the delicious sensation of his hands stroking his uncharacteristically sensitive member. His eyes are clasped closed, and his other hand is still wandering over his torso, chasing that burning itch.
Through panting, shaking breaths he murmurs, “Darling, is it— oh gods, is possible that those— fuck — mushrooms contained sex pollen? I’ve never— mmh, fuck.”
You’d been so enraptured by the vision of your lover touching himself in such an uninhibited display of lust that you almost didn’t hear what Astarion asked. The slickness of your arousal was starting to become apparent as you instinctively squeezed your thighs together.
“I’m… I’m not sure, my love. I’ve read of such things but I’ve never come across it… until, perhaps, now I suppose.”
Astarion isn’t really listening. Instead, he’s bucking wildly into his own hand, chasing his own release. He falls apart in front of you, with his limbs tensed and mouth agape in pure, unadulterated pleasure, clasping tightly onto his own length. The gasping, strangled moan of relief that escapes him as he reaches his climax and shoots sticky streams of hot white seed onto his abdomen ignites a fire in your groin. He’s shuddering with the rippling aftershocks of his orgasm and you feel yourself dripping with arousal as you rub your thighs together once more. This display was entirely feral.
For a few moments the vampire is breathing contentedly, eyes still shut. He’s still holding his cock, which continues to twitch insistently despite its significant spend. Your lover brings his unoccupied hand to his hair and rakes it through his disheveled, sweaty curls.
You flick your gaze to your pack and notice that it’s no longer emitting that ethereal glow. But then Astarion groans in dismay and you see light flare from your bag again. When your attention returns back to your fiancé, he’s already grasping wantonly at a second rapidly growing erection.
“Darling, I can smell you,” He hisses desperately, now slathering his own milky juices around the swollen, reddened tip of his thick cock. The veins in his arm and on his shaft are pulsing as he begins to stroke himself again, “Don’t be coy just— come over here and help me with this. Please.”
And by the gods, he asked so nicely, how could you say no?
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ky-landfill · 1 year
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god... can i please have another Jason and Bruce? i just need that boy to be safe and loved
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