#she doesn’t do this trick but it sure does look cool

[captainmvf]

Comin’ in from the hallway camera-

Alts under the cut vvv

#mvf art #FNAF OCs: Golden Ghosts Burning #Ti Gold #digital art #she doesn’t do this trick but it sure does look cool #but she sure does love staring straight into cameras #eyes/

[thefishermansharbor]

Hear me out pook M6 with a reader who specializes in earth magic think flowers plants etc RAAAH‼️‼️‼️

The M6 with an S/O who specializes in plant-based magic!

The arcana x GN!Reader!Headcanons

Muriel the outsider:

In all honesty, Muriel will be the most appreciative of your gift out of everyone. He loves the forest, and he loves you. Now those two things combined. He’s overjoyed!

He decides that your magic would be useful, and invites you on his weekly trips around the forest. It’s actually quite cute, he makes it into a romantic hike for the two of you. 

If you decide that you don’t want to take care of the forest with him, or that it’s too strenuous for you, he’ll respect your boundaries and admire your magic from afar instead. 

He does ask you for help on certain things, but he’s always considerate of how it will affect you, and if it’s a want or a need. 

Muriel will also openly admit to you how impressed he is of your skill. If you’re feeling particularly insecure that day, or he just feels like complimenting you, that’s his go - to for compliments. 

Asra Alnazar:

At first, he’s unsure of how to react. He tries to figure out how it works in comparison to his own magic, so that way he can help teach you effectively. 

He also, much like Muriel, does take a minute to admire your magic every now and again. As a fellow magician, he understands how hard magic is to do - and yet you make it look so beautiful and simple, he really is in awe of not only of how effortlessly you do it, but how pleasing you make it look.

He won’t ask you to do anything. He doesn’t want to strain you, but he wants you to know that he admires it - so he’ll give you pointers on your magic but also compliment it.

As a fellow magician, he’d also like to learn some of your plant - based tricks. How to make a flower grow, or how to get a vine to contort to another shape, so he’ll ask you how you manage to do certain things. 

He’s very proud of you, he says it every now and again but it’s hard to explain how proud he is of you and your unique magical skills. 

Nadia Satrinava:

She finds it intriguing. She wants to know how exactly it works. It’s more of a study than admire thing. 

It surprised her at first. She didn’t know much about any magic, let alone that there were specific types that could mean and do different things for different people. She finds it a bit confusing, but once she gets the hand of it - she asks to study it. 

She loves watching you work your magic. She thinks less of the magic, and more of you. There’s nothing she respects more than hard work, and watching you perform your talents is something she’ll never get sick off. 

She has too much self - respect to ask you for a demonstration out right, but it crosses her mind every now and again and she uses repetition as a soft suggestion to try and get you to do it. 

Nadia also tries to think of how your talent would benefit her. She’s not too shy to ask you for favors, but like Muriel, she stays within reason and doesn’t want to make you overwhelmed or uncomfortable with the amount of tasks she asks of you.

Portia Devorak: 

She finds it so cool! She’s literally sweating when she first sees it, first of all - it’s so hot to her to see you work, second of all, your work is so majestic and amazing to her! Bonus points if you give her a flower that your magic made, she’ll literally swoon over you. 

She daydreams about doing it to. She may be the slightest bit jealous of your tricks, but she doesn’t let it get in the way of praising you. She does really wish she could do it too, just thinking of all the pranks and schemes she could cook up with magic like that. 

Portia is one of the very few who isn’t expecting or asking you to do something for them with the magic. She’s completely relaxed about you doing in your own time, and doesn’t ask or pressure you to do it when she wants you to. 

Whenever she talks to anyone about you ( which is often ) she’s sure to mention it. She wants everyone to know just how awesome you are, and just how lucky she is. She’s not shy about praising you around other people. 

She gets curious - and asks lots of questions about what you can do with the magic, if there’s any cool things you can make, change, or do. She won’t make you show her, but it’s one of the things she’s most curious about. 

Lucio Morgasson:

Incorporates it into his flirting and pick - up lines. It’s really cheesy, but it’s also very sweet and shows that he puts at least some effort into flirting and doesn’t just re-use whatever he told to his last partner. 

He loves the feeling of you showing off to him, it makes his chest puff up with pride whenever you demonstrate to him. It makes him feel special, and like you care a lot about him. He really likes it. 

Whenever he gets bored of doing paperwork and you’re in the room, he’ll ask you to show him a trick or do something in the background to just give him some white noise and something to focus on while he works. 

He also uses your magic as a party trick - Lucio’s known to be a wild party animal, and he’s practically beaming whenever you agree to show off your skills to kick the party up a notch. 

A lot like Portia, he wishes to do the same, but he’s too proud to admit it to you or ask for lessons and just lets that jealousy sit in his mind. Sometimes when he’s on his own, he waves his hands around and pretends that he’s casting your magic. 

Julian Devorak:

His first reaction is that it’s incredible. But later on, he starts to connect it to his work and wonder if there’s anyway it could help him in his medicinal studies. There’s been plenty of plant based cures in the past, couldn’t there be more now? 

He won’t outright ask you, but he takes a little notebook and scribbles notes in his unintelligible handwriting whenever he sees you do your magic. 

He does keep it in mind, and will get you plant - based gifts and knick-knacks because he knows that you’ll know what to do with them. 

Whenever he thinks of you, he pictures you in nature because of your magic. If you ask him what he sees when he thinks of you, he’ll say something along the lines of “ you looking perfect in a field of tulips.” 

He has certain theories about connecting your work to medicines, but he feels a bit guilty that all he can think of when it comes to your talent is how to connect it to his work, and thus doesn’t bring it up to you too often.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thanks for the request! I hope this is what you wanted, but it's un-revised so there may be some mistakes. If there is, just let me know. Have a great day & summer and request again any time.

#the arcana #the arcana game #the arcana x reader #portia devorak #asra alnazar #nadia satrinava #julian devorak #julian devorak x reader #asra alnazar x reader #asra x reader #muriel x reader #muriel the arcana #portia devorak x reader #portia x reader #lucio morgasson x reader #lucio morgasson #lucio x reader #muriel of the kokhuri #nadia satrinava x reader #nadia x reader #the arcana x reader fluff #the arcana fluff #the arcana headcanons #the arcana x reader headcanons #requests #fanfiction #x reader #x reader fluff #x reader cute #magic

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

Undertale characters see S/O break a bone and then S/O basically just does a Far Cry healing animation and doesn’t even care they got hurt.

Undertale Sans - He grabs your arm gently but firmly, with dark eye sockets. "b u d d y ? N e v e r d o t h a t a g a i n." He hated every second of it. What's wrong with you? Go to the hospital like a normal person, you're going to hurt yourself more.

Undertale Papyrus - He faints. First, the shock of seeing your leg on the wrong side triggered him, but you simply putting it back in place like it's nothing? That's too much man. He can take a lot of things, but this is a big no.

Undertale Toriel - .... She was about to heal you, that for sure stopped her dead in her tracks. She's speechless. And immediately turns into Goat Mom mode and starts lecturing you about how dangerous this is and how it could have hurt you even more. Now you sit down this instant and you let her heal you properly.

Undertale Asgore - He lived hundreds of years and still discovers new things. Though, that one is maybe a bit too much. The noise of the bone snapping back into place made him so uncomfortable he suddenly panics his way out of the house, pretending he needed to get groceries or something.

Undertale Undyne - She stares in awe for a few seconds. Then she explodes. "This was AWESOME. Do it AGAIN!!!" She's very excited about this. She's even ready to break your arm if you need it! Come on!

Undertale Alphys - The scientist in her leaves her body. Why even try? You clearly have no idea how to fix a bone. It's so dangerous and you just act like everything is alright now??? How??? You should be screaming in agony???

Undertale Frisk - Well they can do cool things too. Frisk immediately struggles to lick their elbow with all they have.

Undertale Chara - They roll their eyes at you. You think you're in a video game or something? They're not taking you to the hospital when you realize you're dying because of how painful this is. You did that to yourself.

Undertale Mettaton - He gasps, then runs to you with a camera. Can he break one of your bones so you can do it again and put it in his next movie? Please, please, please, pretty please....

Undertale Gaster - He hisses at you, all his goop puffing like an angry cat. This is the worst sound he has ever heard, please never do that again or he's going to blip into another dimension again!

Undertale Grillby - He stays neutral, but his fire body suddenly burns for real, which means you triggered him. And now the bar is on fire, and Sans is on fire, and all the customers are running in circles screaming for their lives. What have you done?

Undertale Muffet - No big deal, it happens all the time with her eight arms too. She doesn't even notice when one is broken with time, as she has seven other functioning ones. You're not special, who cares.

Undertale Burgerpants - Oh look at that. He's dating another weird person. Welp, that's official. He has a type apparently. He wishes he didn't have one. Why can't he date normal people who do things like normal people should?

Undertale Flowey - Did you just pull out the friendliness pellet he threw inside your arm with your teeth? "You can't do that! That's illegal! I just broke that bone, you can't fix it like it's nothing! Cheater!" He's so mad! Stop breaking his fun. He wants to kill you!

Undertale Gerson - He wiggles his eyebrows at you. You know his back is hurting as well, right? You know. A little trick like that could help like hell. Come on. Don't be shy.

#undertale #sans #papyrus #toriel #asgore #undyne #alphys #frisk #chara #mettaton #gaster #grillby #muffet #burgerpants #flowey #gerson #undertale ask blog #undertale asks #undertale imagines #undertale headcanons

[danikamariewrites]

Guilt

Eris x reader

A/n: @thehighladywrites and I were talking about brat tamer!Eris and she gave me this idea; reader overhears someone saying she’s not good enough for eris or they criticize her hard so she becomes insecure and completely changes herself. Eris sees what’s going on and confronts her about it bc she isn’t his usual princess 😭 so please enjoy more Eris and brat!reader 💕

Warnings: angst to fluff, brat reader, slight ddlg

Today was going to be brutal and boring. Eris had asked you to mingle with court ladies today. He knew it was a big ask but he promised you a big reward. So you let your handmaidens dress you in your finery, pin up your hair, and do your makeup.

You hated what you looked like when you had to be done up for small events like this. It was like you had no control over your life for a few hours. Like you were a party trick for the court to enjoy. But this is the life you chose when you and Eris accepted the bond. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Approaching the room where you’d be entertaining guests you let out huff you roll your neck. You can do this, you tell yourself. When you’re done Eris will be so proud of you and you’ll have all of his attention tonight. Before you grace your guests with your presence you pause to listen to the ladies’ conversation.

Lillian’s voice makes you freeze. You had hoped she wouldn’t be here today, Eris knows she makes you uncomfortable.

Lillian loves sticking her nose into everyone’s business – including yourself and Eris’s – though he does everything in his power to shut her down. She’s never respected your mating bond or relationship with Eris in general. You heard from the other ladies who despised her that Lillian was hoping her mother and father would buy her way to marrying Eris. How pathetic. Part of you almost felt sorry for her, but then she opens her mouth and any sympathy for that female goes out the window.

“How can you all sit here and respect y/n as our High Lady? I don’t think she treats Eris like a male of his stature and title should be treated.” You heard Dela’s voice next, “Lillian, hush. Just because you’re jealous doesn’t mean you have to be crude.” You like Dela, you consider her a friend and she’s someone you’d like to get closer with.

“All I’m saying is that she doesn’t care for him and he takes care of everything for her. It seems like it’s a one way relationship. How can Eris be High Lord when taking care of his precious mate is a full time job?” Lillian says condescendingly. Dela scoffs and you hear her sip on her drink, ignoring the rest of Lillian’s chattering.

You press your back into the cool stone wall, taking deep breaths. You could lose your mind later. Right now you need to keep the raging thoughts of your insecurities being spoken out loud by that wretched female at bay and plaster a smile on your face to do your duties as High Lady. It was going to suck and part of you feels like it’s dying inside but you can get through it.

Taking one last deep breath you hold your head high, push your shoulders back, and lower your mask of elegant High Lady. Entering the room you put a fake smile on your face to greet your guests.

—

Sitting at dinner with Eris that night you felt sick to your stomach. Like your life was a lie and that you had to stop playing whatever game has been going on with the two of you. You hate to admit it, but Lillian was right. Eris can’t take care of you forever. You’d have to make changes. It would be hard but you could do it for Eris.

You dimmed your side of the bond to make sure you weren’t projecting your emotions down the bond. If Eris noticed he was doing a good job at hiding it.

Good. You wouldn’t want to talk about it anyway.

—

When it came time for bed you and Eris always got ready together so he could do everything for you. Tonight you had done things yourself. You even wore your own sleep clothes instead of one of Eris’s shirts. Eris really started to worry when you didn’t call him by his nickname when you said goodnight to each other.

Eris was restless, tossing and turning as his mind raced as to why you were acting this way.

In the morning Eris thought it was odd when you got up with him. You got ready and headed straight for your study without having breakfast. Odd, Eris thought. You either sleep in or have breakfast together. He wants to give you your space but his mate and fae instincts were screaming at him to go to you, to comfort you.

You would come to him, right? You were always vocal about any issues you had. Eris kept reminding himself of that throughout the day but the sentiment did nothing to ease his anxiety.

A little after noon Eris threw his pen down on the desk and ran his fingers through his short fiery locks for the thousandth time. He spun his chair to look out the window at the garden where you would usually have lunch. But you weren’t there. His heart started racing out of panic. Were you ill? Or just not in the mood for nature today?

A small knock on his office door snapped him from his thoughts. “Come in.” Eris expected an advisor or messenger, not you. Not that he was unhappy to see you. He smiled at you as you made your way over to him. You returned the smile with a small tight lipped one of your own.

Eris frowned at that, and the lack of eye contact. You kept your gaze down as you set a stack of files on his desk. “What’s this little fox?” He asks cheerfully. “Paperwork I wanted to help you catch up on. Just small stuff like correspondence with other courts, imports and exports, and notices from a few farms.”

You clasped your hands behind your back still avoiding eye contact with your mate. “Thank you.” He breathed out as shock took over his body. Eris was grateful you did this even though you knew you never had to work if you didn’t want to. He never wanted you to feel like you had to lift a finger, always wanting to treat you like the princess you are.

You were scaring him a little.

You turn to leave but Eris was quick to get up and lightly grasp your wrist. “Y/n wait,” you look up at Eris with sad, unsure eyes.

What happened? Why do you look so sad? It was breaking his heart.

“Little fox, what’s wrong?” You bit your lip like you were about to cry. Your dampener on the bond giving out and your emotions poured into him. Eris clutched at his chest with his free hand as he felt every single one of your thoughts.

Closing your eyes you let a few tears escape down your cheeks. Eris scooped you up into his arms to rush you back to your rooms. Forget work and court duties and all the other bullshit. Something was seriously wrong and Eris needed to figure it out now.

Kicking the door shut with his foot Eris hurried over to the bed, setting you down as a sob wracked your body. He tried to let go of you to hold your face. You clutched his shirt tighter to keep him against you. Eris wrapped his arms around you, rubbing a hand up and down your back slowly.

“Come on, take a deep breath. It’s gonna be alright little fox, I’m here.” He whispers. You calm down enough that your grip loosens on him so he can look at you. Eris holds your face in his hands using his thumbs to wipe away your tears on your rosy cheeks. “Please tell me what’s going on little fox, you’re scaring me.” He pleads with you.

Taking a few more deep breaths you launch into the story of what happened yesterday with Lillian, how you thought she was right, how insecure you were at times and how you felt like a burden to Eris by doing the bare minimum. Then you went into how you felt like you needed to change so he would keep you. Because if Eris left you, you would be lost in this world.

“You are and always will be the most precious thing to me little fox.” He said, pulling you back to his chest. “I love you just the way you are. I’m your mate, I’m supposed to take care of you the way you deserve to be taken care of. And you take care of me too y/n. Do not listen to her sweet girl, Lillian has nothing better to do than talk about others who are doing far better than her.”

You laugh a little at that. Slipping out of Eris’s lap you scoot up the bed to sit against the pillows, pulling your knees to your chest. You play with a thread on the duvet, sniffing every once in a while. “So you don’t want me to change?” You ask sheepishly. “Never little fox. Please never change.” You nod, not confident that your voice wouldn’t break.

“Can I still have my reward daddy?” Eris holds your chin between his thumb and forefinger, bringing his lips to yours in a slow kiss. “Of course you can. I’m going to spoil you rotten this weekend. Starting tomorrow it’ll be just me and you, no work.” You could cry all over again at that. “Perfect.” You mumble against his lips as you kiss him again.

Eris reluctantly pulls away from you. “Why don’t you relax for the rest of the day. I’ll have someone bring you lunch since you haven’t eaten yet and we can’t have you going hungry.” You give him a pout accompanied by your doe eyed stare. “Can I just sit with you while you work?” You wrap your arms around his middle, burying your face in his chest. “I feel like I’ve been away from you forever and I need you daddy.”

Eris could never deny you, especially when you just wanted to cling to him. “Of course little fox. You can always stay with me.” He picked you up again to carry you back to his office. Eris vowed that he would always make sure you never questioned your relationship or how loved you are with him. He would do everything to make sure you never shed a tear over something as silly as Lillian’s gossip ever again.

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar reader fic #acotar reader imagine #acotar imagine #Eris vanserra #eris vanserra acotar #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra acotar x reader #eris vanserra x you #eris vanserra fic #eris vandaddy #eris vanserra fluff #acotar eris #high lord eris #eris acotar #eris x reader #eris x you #eris x y/n

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

A Trick and A Treat

Warnings: allusions to non con/dubcon, bullying, and other possible dark elements. Proceed with caution.

Note: Here is another wish!

Please leave some feedback so I know you want me to do more of the wishes I got. Otherwise, I find it hard to keep my motivation.

Wish Corrupted: I wish Rafe Cameron would crash my Halloween party.

“I think we got everything,” you haul up the reusable grocery bag on your shoulder. 

“It’s going to be awesome,” Claire smiles back at you, “lowkey.”

“Did you hear back from Janie yet? I got the special oat milk she wanted.”

“Um, not yet. She wasn’t sure if she was chilling with us or–

“Huh, yeah, I mean, no worries,” you shrug it off. “Not all of us are cool enough to go to the shore.”

“Who wants to?” Claire wrinkles her nose, “just a bunch of drunk idiots with nothing better to do.”

“Isn’t that what college is?” You chuckle.

She hums in agreement. Neither of you have been a part of the popular crowd. You barely qualify for kook status and in your experience, Pogues are a lot nicer. It’s like walking a tightrope between them; not rich enough to skip college, and not poor enough to hang at the banks.

“I swear I saw one of my professors at the frat,” you lower your voice and giggle, “do you think they ever grow out of it?”

“Not if they can help it,” she rolls her eyes.

You chuckle and carry on. The weight of your snacks is heavier by the step. You should’ve just taken your mother’s Volvo but the walk isn’t that long and you hate to waste the gas. As you come up the incline of your street, you hear a motor rev, followed by a whistle.

“Hey, kitty, kitty,” a voice hollers and as you look back and egg cracks across your face. The shatter is painful as the shell breaks and the yolks leaks down your cheek and chin. 

“Look at that wet pussy!” Another voice calls as the truck chortles and veers off. You sputter and swipe the egg from your face, holding back a sob. You cradle your cheek at the tingling there. Ow.

“Fucking jackasses!” Claire cries out, “god! Go back to high school!” She hollers through cupped hands. She turns back to you and gasps, “oh my god, are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s fine,” you sniff, “I’m fine. Just egg, right?”

“I can’t believe that,” she sneers as she pulls down her sleeve and wipes your face with it, “talk about never growing up.”

“Really, it’s okay,” you adjust the bag on your shoulder and reach to take off the cat ears you picked up from the grocery store as a joke. “I’m okay.”

“It’s not okay,” she grabs the headband from you, “don’t let them ruin the fun.”

She puts them back on your head and glares up the street. She huffs and shakes her head as she grabs your hands and hurries you along. You seal your lips and blink through the swell, you’re not going to cry. High school is over, you’re an adult.

🐈‍⬛

Janie doesn’t turn up but Adelyn does. The three of you have a quaint Halloween planned. Hot drinks and horror movies, who could ask for more?

You make a mess of the kitchen with whipped cream and sprinkles before you crowd onto the couch under a shared blanket in the dark. The titles for the first Halloween play as the music sets a frightening ambience. You sip from your stacked apple cider as Claire licks cream from her fingers as it rips from the brim of her cocoa.

Adelyn turns to lean against the armrest and stretches her legs over Claire’s lap. You sink back into the cushy couch, transfixed by the classic film. You haven’t seen it in years so it’s like watching it all over again. The eerie soundtracks and jarring noises put you on edge and you sit up, leaning in as you expect Michael to pop out at any moment.

You hear a thump and look around. You can’t see much, the curtains are drawn and the screen doesn’t offer much illumination. It’s just the movie. That surround sound always confuses you. Besides, Claire and Adelyn aren’t bothered.

You lean forward and put down your sticky cup. The others are pretty much done too. You cross your arms and nestle into the side of the couch. The music turns frantic as Michael closes in on his next victim. You hold your breath…

“Boo!” The voice is right behind you.

Claire screams and throws her hands up. You look over as a shadow bends over her, grabbing her by the neck and dragging her over the back. What the fuck–

Your hair is clamped in someone’s hand as you’re wrenched against the side of the couch. You shriek as the speaker volume amps up, muffling out the real life terror. Adelyn whimpers as she hits the floor in front of the couch and tries to scramble away.

“Hey Claire Bear,” you recognise the voice as the screen glares off Topper’s features, “happy halloween.”

“Let go!” You hiss and kick out as your feet hit the floor, “get off–”

“Kitty, kitty,” Rafe’s snarls in your ear as his breath grazes against your skin, “I’ve been dying to get my hands on you.”

You can’t believe what’s happening. Your personal tormentor has you locked in his grip. Your face stings with the memory of the shattered egg, the cool drizzle of yolk down your cheek. You shiver and grasp blindly at his hands.

“What are you– why are you doing this?” You gulp out.

Adelyn is dragged under Kelce as he straddles her, groping her as the screen flickers over them. Rafe’s other arm hooks around your waist and he pulls you with him as he backs away. You flaily wildly, head stuck as he keeps his hand tight around your hair.

“Trick or treat,” he growls.

Claire screams and you hear a clatter. You don’t understand. Rafe Cameron hates your guts. He pushed your books on the floor, he shoved you in lockers, he spit on your graduation robes. He’s a monster but not the one you expected that night.

“I got both, don’t worry,” he rasps as he hurls you against a wall.

“Please,” you slide down to your knee, paralysed by the impact, “please, I didn’t do anything–”

“That doesn’t matter,” his shadow looms over you, “cause I’m about to do a whole lot of something.”

He bends over you as you shield yourself with an arm. He pushes it aside and frames your jaw, pulling your head up. He leans in as the surround sound bursts with noise, the metallic shink of stabbing and horrid screams.

“Let’s play a game, kitty,” he runs his finger along your chin, “hide and seek…” he draws his hand away, “I’ll count to ten and you can hide. Then I’ll come find you…”

“Please,” you sniffle.

“One,” he stands over you, “two…”

You put one foot down, shaking as you fight to get the other under you.

“Three,” you stand and stagger around blindly in the dark, “four,” you feel your way into the next room, “five…” you hit a table, sending a vase to the floor, “six…,” you get to the bottom of the stairs, “seven…” you hesitate and turn to face the front door. “Eight…” you stumble towards your escape, “nine…” hand on the knob, “ten.”

The door opens and you dash out. Three steps before you yanked back. You whimper as the door slams shut just as quickly, kicked by your accoster.

Rafe’s arm hooks around your neck and he pulls you back. He chuckles as he hauls you with him, dragging you to the stairs, your feet bouncing off each step as he ascends a step at a time.

“Not fast enough, kitty,” he taunts, “I choose…” his other hand crawls down your stomach and cups your cunt as he reaches the landing “treat.”

#rafe cameron #dark rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #obx #the outer banks #drabble #corrupt-a-wish

[bogglecatboxx]

genshin reverse au headcanons

in which you’re a character in the hit video game genshin impact, and they’re your biggest fan ; notes: gn!reader, all lower case, reader is a limited 5-star bc i said so, also reader is an antagonist in tartaglia’s part lmao

venti:

if you have any kind of character song or leitmotif, he’s learning it on every instrument he owns. posts an acoustic cover online. (he also writes an original song about you, but he keeps that one to himself, wanting to really perfect it first.)

has pins and keychains of you; you’re probably also his phone wallpaper. reads fanfics of you and goes ‘y/n would NOT say that >:/‘

runs teams centered around you; regardless of what role you are, he makes sure the rest of the team has synergy with you. even if he has to run a specific character that you don’t work well with for whatever reason, you stay on the team lol. any online friends he plays with are so used to this they might accidentally refer to him as y/n.

hums while playing; if you have any singing or humming voice lines, he tries to hum along to them.

tartaglia:

no matter what role you’re supposed to be, he’s running full damage y/n. if you’re supposed to be a support this is extremely confusing to people, especially when they see how well he’s making it work (he likes the challenge). if you’re meant to be a dps anyway, people are still surprised to see the high damage he’s doing and how fast he clears bosses.

probably posts pictures or videos like ‘clearing spiral abyss w just y/n (and traveller) !!’

on that note, he probably does run a one-character team for everything he can. you’re strong enough to win on your own, why would he need anyone else?

does your boss fight/trounce domain on repeat. feels kinda bad for repeatedly beating up his favorite character, but also loves seeing you in your (slightly evil) element.

posts stuff like ‘i support hot people’s rights AND wrongs 🥺💕’ and ‘i don’t want to fix them i love them as they are 💖💞’ next to screenshots of cutscenes where you commit atrocities

lyney:

had been playing before your banner (freminet had introduced him to the game), but you were the first (and likely only) 5star character he c6’d

honestly, lynette is probably sick of hearing about y/n this and y/n that all the time. (she doesn’t play herself, although she sometimes watches her brothers play.) (freminet’s a little sick of it, too, even if you are one of his favorite characters.)

practices small, simple card tricks during cutscenes and loading screens (he has, like, ten decks of cards on his desk alone). gets embarrassed if he fumbles while you’re on screen lol

will try to find a way to do any cool magic you do in game with practical effects. depending on how magical or complicated your abilities are, this might take a while, but he’s determined to look at least almost as cool as you do in game.

probably most likely to cosplay you.

#genshin impact #venti #lyney #tartaglia #childe #ajax #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #boggle writings

[siriuslysatorusimping]

What is Kurisaki Rinko to you?

I DID IT. I WROTE IT. I FOUND SOME INSPIRATION FAIRIES AND KNOCKED THIS OUT. THANK YOU TO THE ANON WHO ASKED THIS QUESTION.

Pre-Shibuya

Gojo Satoru

He raised his eyebrows at the question.

“Huh?” he asked, grasping his chin lightly. “Kurisaki-chan? Strong sorcerer. Lives up to the Special Grade 1 rank easily. Great person. Probably the best person I know, actually. She looks out for the people she cares about, especially her students. Best teacher Kyoto ever had.” He smirked slightly. “One of the only people to catch me by surprise, land a hit. A menace, really. A good friend. One- my best friend. She’s my best friend.”

Nanami Kento

A deep sigh escaped his lips, his brow furrowed in clear irritation.

“Annoying,” he replied, his monotone voice almost sounding amused. “But I trust her. She’s stronger than she thinks she is, and I would trust her with my life. She’s also one of the only jujutsu sorcerers I respect, even though she’s probably crazier than most. She’s also an incredible teacher. Her students have always loved her. I got to see that first-hand.” He cleared his throat, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “And a dear friend. She’s a very dear friend.”

Fushiguro Megumi

He scowled at the question, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly.

“A lot of people think you could pass for being her kid since you look similar-”

“She’s not my mom,” he snapped, his scowl deepening. “She’s my cousin. She’s taught me a lot—more than Gojo-sensei has. She’s a great teacher.”

Zenin Maki

Her eyes narrowed at the question before she shrugged.

“We’re related,” she stated. “She took me in when I ran away from my shit family. She’s done a lot for me. Helped me in more ways than I can say.” The teen gripped the kendo sword in her hands tightly. “She’s taught me more than anyone else. Not just about being a jujutsu sorcerer, either. She’s a great teacher.”

Zenin Mai

Suspicion filled the girl’s expression for a moment.

“Why do you wanna know?” she asked, crossing her arms defensively. “She’s- we’re distantly related. She taught me when she was at Kyoto Tech. And-” she trailed off, a frown pulling at her lips, “she’s looked out for me. Always tries to make sure to check in on me. She cares. She’s a great- she’s the best teacher I’ve ever had.”

Okkotsu Yuuta

“Rinko-san is amazing!”

They’d barely finished the question before the teenager answered, sounding overly enthusiastic.

“She’s really kind,” he continued excitedly. “She always checks on me to ask me how I’m doing. She’s strong enough to trick Gojo-sensei. She landed a hit on him, which I haven’t really seen anyone else do before. She’s a great teacher, too. I learned a lot from her about cursed energy when she taught us last year.”

Inumaki Toge

He grinned widely, shrugging.

“Tuna mayo,” he stated.

“Is- that good?”

“Salmon,” he replied, his grin widening. “Tuna mayo.”

Itadori Yuuji

He shrugged slightly, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“I- don’t know Rinko-san that well,” he admitted. “But Nanamin respects her a lot. Gojo-sensei likes her, too. Fushiguro won’t admit it, but he kinda drifts towards her when she’s around. She’s really nice. One of the nicest people I’ve met besides Gojo-sensei. And she’s a really good teacher. Fushiguro and Zenin-san learned from her, I think.”

Kugisaki Nobara

The girl shrugged absently.

“I don’t really know her that well,” she admitted, tilting her head to the side. “She seems cool. Maki-san likes her a lot. She does spend a lot of time with that blindfolded idiot, though. But she’s a good teacher, from what Maki-san says.”

Todo Aoi

The boy smirked easily, chuckling under his breath.

“A strong sorcerer,” he asserted. “One of the strongest you’ll meet, though she doesn’t see it that way. She- she’ll do anything to protect the people she cares about, especially us. Kurisaki-sensei is an incredible teacher.”

Post-Shibuya

Gojo Satoru

He squinted at them, scowling at the question.

“You mean Gojo Rinko?” he asked, his scowl growing when they just shrugged. “I convinced her to marry me, ya know. I’m her husband-”

“Fine,” they sighed, exasperated. “What is Gojo Rinko to you?”

A smug grin pulled at his lips now.

“My best friend,” he declared proudly. “The strongest woman I’ve ever known. The only person who puts up with me without complaining.” He paused, his grin widening until he looked like a dopey puppy. “The love of my life. She’s the most incredible person I know, and I- wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for her. She’s the most important person in my life.”

Fushiguro Megumi

He cleared his throat uncomfortably, shuffling his feet.

“She’s- my cousin." He rubbed the back of his neck and coughed. “She- she’s always been there for me. One of- one of the most important people in my life. I- I don’t know if I’d be here if it weren’t for her.”

Zenin Maki

She gave a nonchalant shrug, looking bored.

“My cousin,” she replied easily, staring at them calmly. “She’s taught me a lot. Took me in when I needed to get away from the clan. Always-” the teen paused, releasing a quiet sigh, “never- got upset with me when I was angry. And- she really tried to look out for me and my sister. One of the most important people in my life.”

Okkotsu Yuuta

His brow furrowed slightly as he thought.

“Rinko-san is one of the strongest people I know,” he stated firmly, nodding to himself. “She cares a lot about all of us, too. Looks out for us so much, making sure we’re all okay. Even though she knows we can take care of ourselves, she checks on us and makes sure we’re okay. She’s become one of the most important people in my life.”

Inumaki Toge

“Tuna mayo!” he exclaimed, grinning widely.

“That’s- that’s still a good thing, right?”

“Salmon!”

“Can I get some of those flashcards you gave her-?”

Itadori Yuuji

“She’s our new Principal,” he stated, smiling slightly. “She was someone Nanamin had a lot of respect for, and she clearly cared about him, too. She’s really strong, but she pushes herself too much. I think- I think she does it for us. To try to protect us. She and Gojo-sensei are really similar in that way. She cares about us a lot. She- I don’t remember my mom, but she kinda reminds me of a mom. She’s become one of the most important people in my life.”

Kugisaki Nobara

She gave a careless shrug.

“I honestly still don’t know her all that well,” the girl admitted. “But she’s really strong. Special Grade 1’s aren’t really something to mess with. She’s our new Principal, and she’s doing a really good job so far. I don’t think there could have been a better choice for it. She still spends too much time with that blindfolded idiot, though. Can’t believe she decided to marry a guy like him, but they seem happy I guess?”

Ino Takuma

He rubbed the back of his neck.

“I, ah, don’t know Kurisaki-san that well,” he admitted uneasily.

Gojo Satoru’s voice chimed from somewhere in the distance, “It’s Gojo Rinko now-!”

“But Nanami-san had a lot of respect for her, and they were really good friends.” Ino swallowed thickly. “She- asked me to teach here at Tokyo Tech after she became the Principal. She said Nanami-san would approve, that he’d be proud to see me helping the next generation of sorcerers. She’s- a really kind person. I’m grateful she decided to give me this chance.”

-

You can take Toge's responses from my cold, dead hands.

Did you guys like the two different themes? I thought it'd be cool to have the pre-Shibuya version focused on them saying she's a good teacher, and then the post-Shibuya version talking about how she's important in their lives 🥹 Notice how Gojo and Megumi said they wouldn't be here without her 🥺🥺

It's also official, Ino will be the new first-year teacher at Tokyo Tech 😊

#rinko kurisaki fanclub #rinko kurisaki #rinko kurisaki is a lil bean but also a lil shit but we love her so much #rinko kurisaki aka my favorite oc i've ever written #gojo rinko #gojo simping for rinko so hard #we love it #another level #another level extras #gojo satoru x original female character #rinko is a gojo now #gojo x original female character #gojo x ofc #megumi is rinko's og lil bean and he loves her so much #she's not just his cousin she's his mom now #jjk fanfic #nanami and rinko #nanami is literally so done with her

[magicfootballstuff]

Ugly Sweater (mapi leon x reader)

Inspired by this picture:

———

“I look ridiculous,” you complain, frowning at your reflection in the floor length mirror.

You’re not sure how you managed to get dragged into modelling Barcelona’s new range of Christmas jumpers for a photoshoot, but somehow the sequence of events has led to this, to you wearing an outrageous green and navy sweater with a reindeer emblazoned on the front. And as much as you know that the whole point of a Christmas jumper is to be bold and ugly, there’s no hiding the fact that it doesn’t suit you at all.

“Let me see,” Mapi says, emerging from behind the screen where she’s been getting changed into her own outfit.

Her eyes widen when she sees your clothes, and she barely manages to stifle a laugh.

“It’s not fair,” you complain, when you see what Mapi is wearing.

Instead of the reindeer jumper, Mapi is wearing a patterned grey one with the Barcelona crest knitted into it. It’s almost cool, especially with the way that Mapi has pushed the sleeves part way up her tattooed forearms and wears the jumper with a certain kind of swagger that most people would never be able to pull off.

“How come you manage to make everything look good?”

Mapi does a little twirl, arms outstretched as she shows off her own attire.

“Special skill of mine,” she grins at you. “Why are you complaining, anyway? Reindeer-chic looks good on you.”

“Fuck off,” you tell her.

“Baby…” she pouts, shooting you a soppy look with her big brown eyes that she knows makes you weak, though you’re determined to not let her win you over with such basic moves right now.

“Maria,” you reply, using her full name to let her know that you’re not going to fall for her tricks.

She doubles down, brushing a piece of fluff off the arm of your sweater, then pulls you in for a hug, which you reluctantly accept.

“For the record,” she mumbles into your hair, “you look really cute.”

“You’re just saying that,” you whine.

She pauses for a few seconds, then admits, “Maybe I am.”

“Mapi!” you pull out of her arms and shoot her another pout.

“Let me finish,” she interjects. Her eyes darken with mischief, and you fear for what she’s about to say before the words even escape her lips. “You do look cute, but have I not told you countless times before that you look much better when you’re wearing nothing?”

You had been so resolute that you weren’t going to fall for her charm, which is why you internally curse your body for betraying you, a pink hue rising to your cheeks as she shoots you a suggestive smirk that immediately has you clenching your thighs together.

A cough from behind you jolts the pair of you out of your conversation, and your blush only intensifies when you realise that you’re not the only two in the room, the photographer who is about to take the photos of you both modelling the jumpers reminding you of his presence by clearing his throat.

“You’re in a lot of trouble,” you growl at Mapi.

The presence of the photographer doesn’t seem enough to deter her.

“God, I hope so,” she whispers back at you.

#woso imagine #woso x reader #mapi leon x reader #mapi leon imagine #established relationship #fluff #christmas

[klausinamarink]

One Kid Gone, Another Up and Vanished (part 7)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 next: Part 8

spoilers but a phone call gets through!

“You’re a thousand percent sure?”

Mike groans as he checks down the school halls, “Yes, Lucas. How many times do I gotta tell you that?”

“Well, maybe until I’m positive that we’re not having a collective auditory hallucination or the weirdo isn’t tricking us.” Lucas crosses his arms. Beside Dustin, El mutters “auditory hallucination” to herself with furrowed eyebrows.

“You guys hear that?!” Dustin exclaims too loudly, earning equally loud shushes. “Sorry, but El just said a scientific word without mispronouncing it! She really does have superpowers…”

“Not now, Dustin.” Mike hushes as they finally get to the AV club. He unlocks the door and lets everyone inside after peeking in. He guides El to sit in front of the radio while Lucas and Dustin turn it on.

Dustin won’t lie - he’s super excited to see El use her powers for the radio. He couldn’t believe it when she made Will’s voice come out. Will! Alive and singing!

But he’s still confused over Mike’s news of Will being with someone named Eddie. Eddie who? is their biggest question but El can’t say because she doesn’t know his last name or how to describe him.

“He’s a friend.” She keeps telling them.

Dustin prays it’s not Eddie Tremblay from fifth grade. The little sucker doesn’t deserve to be Will’s new friend after his football landed on their rocket project last month.

“Aaaand we’re in!” He announces, hopping behind El. Mike and Lucas squish against him even though they clearly have much more space.

El closes her eyes and listens to the whining static. Then the static changes through channels, voices quickly overlapping until they get more comprehensive. Then the voices get compressed into six, four, two-

“-Control to Major Tom..”

Dustin shoots his hand forward and grabs one of the speakers. But so does Lucas and Mike and now they’re slapping each other’s hands until Lucas finally takes it and yells, “Will, can you read us? Over!”

“‘Your circuit’s dead, there’s something wrong..’”

At the sound of the second person, Dustin’s first thought is oh thank God, it’s not Tremblay. Then his second thought is hm, this Eddie guy sounds kinda cool. Then his third thought is oh my god, we gotta talk to Will!

“Will! Do you copy? Over!”

“Will, where are you?”

“You feeling a bit better so far?”

“Tell Eddie we’re saying hi! Who is he? Over!”

“I’m getting cold again..”

“Me too. C’mon here.”

“Will! We’re right here!”

“How the hell are they not hearing us?”

“I wish I could go home…”

“So do I…”

El gives out a painful gasp and the radio explodes into flames. Dustin manages to extinguish it before the rest of the room catches, but the fire alarm goes off.

They all stare at the now-ruined transmitter, their only chance of connecting with Will and his mysterious new friend.

—

Eddie’s definitely missing.

It’s a fact that Jeff grows more sure of every day since Wayne Munson had asked him for Eddie’s secretive hideouts.

He keeps trying to ignore the seed of dread in his stomach, but it’s impossible now with the slightly somber atmosphere in the school after the morning announcement of Will Byers’ death. The fact that Eddie hasn’t shown up for classes or in the cafeteria again today isn’t helping either.

“If Munson’s still gonna be on his bender, he should’ve at least cancelled this week’s session.”

Jeff takes a half-open Skittles bag from Maya’s tray and throws it at Evan, making the two members jump. Maya because those are her Skittles and Evan because the bag hits his chest making more pieces fly out on the table.

“Eddie’s not on a bender.” Jeff hisses at Evan. Across him, Frankie is giving him one of his Don’t-Make-This-Any-Worse looks.

Evan huffs and crosses his arms, “Oh, yeah? Then where the hell is he?”

“Definitely not on a bender of any kind!”

“Gee thanks, that clears things up.”

Jeff’s about to snap back, but Frankie discreetly kicks his leg with a warning glare. It might be a good call because Jeff doesn’t know what to say next. Another defence of Eddie, for sure, but nothing to quench the rest of the club’s antsy-ness.

“Maybe he’s gone to a concert. Like hitchhiked to Indy or Chicago?” Maya asks after picking up her spilled candy.

“But he has a van?” Daniel, the senior member of Hellfire and their current drummer, frowns pointedly.

“What concert could’ve he gone to? Is there even any band playing in this bum state?” Evan raises his eyebrows.

“I dunno, Dio?”

“They’re touring in the UK right now.” Frankie says. Jeff shoots him a bewildered look that’s the equivalent to screaming are you kidding me? Frankie gives him a Play-Along-With-It look.

“Well, that settles it.” Evan raps his knuckles on the table. “Munson’s saved a fucking ticket to the goddamned Iron Lady’s territory and is breeding chicks in Dio’s mosh pit as we speak.”

Jeff stands up, no longer feeling hungry. He throws his half-eaten sandwich at Evan. The other boy gives out a disgusted shriek as the mayonnaise hits and stains his shirt. “Dude! What-”

“Shame on you.” Jeff keeps his voice even, just quiet enough for only Hellfire to hear him. Maybe it would somehow reach Eddie wherever the hell he is right now. “The only good thing about Eddie being absent is that he isn’t ripping the skins off of you and your characters right now. Especially you, Evan.”

He stares Evan down, who visibly gulps. “Eddie took you in the club’s open arms because he saw you were a loner who needed the right people to hang out with or you would’ve been one of the bullies. And this is how you thank him?”

He looks at the rest of the members and points at them accusingly. “When Eddie comes back from whatever he’s doing, I hope that rest of y’all feel guilty for thinking he doesn’t care. Because he absolutely does.” Then he grabs his bag and leaves the cafeteria without a second thought.

Outside is chilly as usual and the breeze helps relax Jeff’s nerves. For a while at least.

He stands at the parking lot, trying to think what he should do when he hears someone running over. He looks up and groans.

“Frankie, leave me alone, man.”

“So you haven’t heard anything from Eddie?” Frankie’s voice isn’t accusing but his look might’ve been.

“No. Not since the band practice days ago.” Jeff walks away but Frankie still follows him. “Then his uncle came and asked if I knew any places Eddie frequents. I told you guys that already.”

“Doesn’t stop Evan’s stupid theories.” Frankie mutters.

“You should’ve shut him up!”

“Are you kidding? You did better than what I could’ve done.”

“Words are stronger than death looks.”

Frankie snorts. He goes quiet as they reach the end of the school parking lot. Then he says, “Are you going to search for Eddie?”

Jeff stops. Turns and stares at him. “Uh, yeah? I mean, from what he said, Wayne’s probably already doing that. So, I dunno, I’m probably gonna do the bare minimum. Like where am I going to look, dude?”

Frankie doesn’t answer. His face is strangely pale and looking at something behind Jeff. He follows his friend’s phase and feels the dread well up in his mouth when he sees a poster on a nearby telephone pole.

He doesn’t need a closer look to recognize the black and white photo of Eddie from two months ago grinning at him or the large word MISSING written in Sharpie above it.

He tries very hard not to notice that it’s stapled right below Will Byers’ already wrinkled poster.

It’s a very strong feeling to see your best friend’s missing poster a few days after you last saw him alive.

Jeff forces to tear his eyes away from Eddie’s captured monochrome cheeriness. “Know what? Fuck it. Let’s find him. Wanna start at the woods?”

—

There’s something about singing quietly in the nightscape hell mirror version of your bedroom that makes Eddie’s fingers twitch to jolt it down somewhere.

After the meltdown at the house, Will had grew more quiet. Eddie had rocked him until Will complained of motion sickness and then Eddie had held him even when they slept.

After piggybacking the kid and singing “Should I Stay Or Should I Go?” (at least until Eddie admitted death by earworms and convinced a change to “Space Oddity”) on the way back to Forest Hills, Will seemed to be back in his original spirits. Still quiet but no longer on the verge of tears next to Eddie. Although his coughs started to sound more wet and shook his small frame like a leaf.

Eddie prays to god that he can speak to Wayne this time. He hopes his uncle to come up with a cooler code system than Mrs. Byers and maybe get them out somehow.

But the trailer is quiet, save for Will’s whistled breathing as he sleeps in Eddie’s arms, the old itchy quilt cocooning them both. He has to stay up. Keep a lookout for the demogorgon in this hell land and for Wayne in the real world. But he feels so tired. If he can rest his eyes for just a moment…

The sound of muffled crying wakes him up.

—

The longer Wayne stares at the posters, the bigger the impulse to rip them up grows.

After Hopper left, he had went back inside and started on making the Missing posters for Eddie. The hardest part of it had been trying to find the right photo of his nephew and he had held back tears at how much Eddie had grown. How happier he looks.

He had printed copies at the library, keeping his head down from curious and pitying eyes. Christi Waldon was nice enough not to charge him for the fees.

Then he started putting the posters up and Wayne had felt like he was making a mistake.

Nobody never said anything how difficult it is to go around town again, putting a poster with your child’s face silently begging strangers who may disliked them to find them, and to do all of this without the police helping.

Wayne had printed 100 copies. He only managed to put up 18 of them before it became too much and hurried home.

Now there’s a pile of 82 posters with Eddie’s face staring up at him on the table. Wayne can’t bring himself to rip them up no matter what his mind demands it. He has a new superstition that if he does, Eddie will never be found alive.

He checks the time. Seeing it’s only after six, he sighs heavily and takes out his cigarette. He’s briefly overcome with the memory of catching a fourteen year old Eddie trying to smoke and how his smart cookie of a nephew swallowed the lit cigarette, immediately threw up, and sobbed while Wayne had to sit down so he wouldn’t break his own ass from laughing so far. After they’d both calmed down, Wayne showed him how to smoke properly and said-

He said…

What did he say?

Something erupts from his mouth. He clamps a hand over, suddenly worrying that he just got sick. But there’s no taste of bile. Only wet salt. He takes his hand off and, ah. He’s crying.

Wayne gives a wet laugh. Then it gasps into another sob. He covers his mouth again, unable to hold the tears back.

Above him, the lights flicker.

It feels almost comforting.

Wayne sniffs, watching as the bulbs hang on to its dear life of electricity. Then one of the lamps next to the couch start flickering as well. Slow and rhythmic.

The sadness does go away, but it makes Wayne feel the back of his neck hairs stand up.

—

Eddie drops his hand from the lights, stomping over to the phone. “Fuck this, now’s the chance.”

Will glances at him from where he’s crouching by the lights, still tired from being jostled awake so soon, “Eddie?”

He turns to him and says, “Little Byers the Vanished, how does one make a landline in the Vale of Shadows?”

“You, uh, just pick it up-”

Eddie does exactly that.

“Wait! It won’t even last-!”

—

The phone rings with a shrill.

Wayne snaps his head over to it. He’s breathing slowly, watching the landline like it’s his childhood spider.

The atmosphere in his trailer feels suddenly colder. As if there are ghosts present. Waiting.

The phone rings and rings until it gets to voicemail, his gruff message for the last decade. “You’ve reached the Munsons. Leave a message after the beep.”

There’s nothing after the beep.

Wayne looks at the lights again. The ceiling light has stopped but ones over the kitchen and door are flickering this time.

The phone rings again.

He stands up slowly, walking over to the phone. It rings louder to his ears now. He tries to ignore the sudden sense of a presence behind and beside him as he picks the phone up and holds it to his ear.

He hears static as if the caller has a bad connection.

He clears his throat and speaks, “Wayne Munson speakin’.”

The static crackles with some kind of harsh breathing. It’s loud to make Wayne cringe away and hang up-

“..Wayne..”

He freezes. The anxiety vanishes in an instant. “..Eddie?” He chokes out.

“..Wayne!”

“Oh my lord…” Wayne clutches the phone closer. “You’re alive, right? Eddie! Tell me where are you!”

“..I’m-”

The phone bursts into literal shock. He drops it with a yell and it clatters to the ground, dead.

That was him. That was Eddie’s voice.

Breathing raggedly, Wayne’s gaze snaps up to the lamps flashing maniacally. The air around him feels desperate and sinks down upon him. Anxiety comes back as quick as it comes, squashing on the brief spot of hope he felt.

“Nah, fuck this.” He mutters as he swipes his keys and runs out of the door. He can’t deal with more ghosts at this hour.

—

“Nonono—NO!”

Eddie slams his hands against the lights too hard. The pulsing glass bulbs nearly crack under the pressure.

None of it stops the sound of the truck engine starting.

“Wayne, it’s me! Can’t you hear me?!” Eddie’s throat is already dry from screaming, but he doesn’t care about it. “UNCLE WAYNE! JUST STOP AND LISTEN TO ME!”

He runs outside to the ever barren yard. He tries not to think about Wayne leaving just like how his dad did in his very last visit. How he had tried to chase after his dad’s car until Wayne stopped him. How he had been a crying mess while Wayne told him that both of them will stay together from now on.

“WAYNE, PLEASE! YOU PROMISED TO STAY!”

The truck drives away, farther and farther. If Eddie can catch him-

His lungs constrict themselves again. He stumbles, scraping his knees and palms on the ground. He coughs, gulping in too many shaky breaths that almost tastes like glass shards. He calls out-

“Come back! Come back!”

It comes out as a hoarse whisper.

His throat hurts.

The truck disappears. The sounds of the trailers’ muted everyday life and his own painful wheezing replace it.

Eddie is vaguely aware of Will shuffling up next to him and wrapping his arms around his shaking shoulders.

-

Taglist: @unclewaynemunson @steves-strapcollection @hellion-child @sidekick-hero @mmmmwaffles94 @demolitionjetstar @hbyrde36 @princessstevemunson @sirsnacksalot @tartarusknight @lyriclight @kodaik97 @plsdontdrinkmylavalamp @bookbinderbitch @gutterflower77 @soaringornithopter @angeldreamsoffanfic @panicatthediaz @renaissan-vvitch @manda-panda-monium @newtstabber @little-trash-ghost

#hellfire club: oh man Eddie’s an asshole for ditching us #Jeff: YOU are all assholes for talking shit about him #eddie: (getting old traumas resurfacing at an usually bad moment in an alternate dimension with a child stuck to his side) this is fine :) #narration: he is not fine and it Gets Worse #yeah space oddity is on the nose for that bit but shhh #eddie and will in the upside down au #the party #jeff stranger things #unnamed freak stranger things #wayne munson #eddie munson #will byers #stranger things #klaus writes

[c-e-d-dreamer]

Like Good Neighbors Do

A/N: It's officially the last day of @nestaarcheronweek. It's definitely sad to see a great week of content come to an end, but I hope everyone has enjoyed it as much as me :) @dustjacketmusings and the bookclub get full credit for this idea, and I would like to thank all 200 of you who voted in my poll to decide who should break their face. In the end, I did decide maybe they both should be shirtless after all ;) Enjoy!

Link to AO3

Cassian tugs at the waistband of his shorts, shifting and maneuvering the fabric until it lies just how he wants it across his hips. Low enough that it shows off his v lines, but high enough that he won’t get any angry calls from the Neighborhood Watch Group. He turns slightly in front of his bedroom mirror, examining how the hem of his shorts fall, admiring how the red fabric sits on his thighs. His quads are definitely on full display. It’s perfect. Maybe he’ll have to thank Mor for this Solstice gag gift after all.

He grabs a hair tie from his dresser, scraping back the curls of his hair and pulling them into a messy bun away from his face. He pads down the stairs and grabs his shoes next, lacing them up quickly and heading for the door. Before his hand closes around the doorknob, though, a thought strikes him. He quickly drops to the ground and does a dozen push-ups, rolling onto his back and doing a quick set of crunches next. He hops back to his feet, glancing down at his chest, his abs, flexing his arms to look at his biceps. It definitely did the trick. He’s ready now.

With a determined nod, Cassian yanks open his front door and jogs down the front steps of his porch. He turns right when he reaches the sidewalk, keeping his pace light, almost slow. He makes sure he keeps his head forward, doesn’t turn to look, doesn’t give himself away, no matter how much the desire to thrums beneath his skin. But he still checks, out of his periphery. He still waits to catch a hopeful glimpse of her staring.

Maybe today her jaw will slacken at his apparel of choice for his run. Maybe he’ll even get to hear the sound of her gasping softly floating on the breeze as he runs past her house. Maybe, if he’s really lucky, she’ll call out his name. He’d love to hear his name fall past those lips again. They can chat again. Start with menial stuff like the warm weather. Cassian can ask her what book she’s reading today. She’ll ask if he wants to come inside and—

Cassian is so caught up in the web of images his mind has begun to spin that it takes him a moment too long to realize that the porch next door is actually empty. She’s not there.

Nesta Archeron isn’t there.

Cassian stops and turns to face the house completely, frowning. It’s near identical to his own, pale blue siding to his yellow, and on her porch, a swing dangles from two chains hooked to the ceiling. And every Saturday, ever since the days have gotten longer, ever since the weather has turned from cold and biting to warm and breezy, Nesta has spent her afternoons sitting on that swing with her legs curled up and a book balanced on her knees. It’s given Cassian the perfect excuse to see her recently, to talk to her, to continue their neighborly games.

To say that Cassian has been a goner for Nesta Archeron since the day she moved in last fall, would be an understatement.

He still remembers that first day. He had seen the moving truck pull up first, and then he’d seen the most gorgeous woman he’d ever laid his eyes on. Her face was all cool and cutting angles, eyes piercing even from his window next door, a willowy dancer build clear beneath her sweater, as she strode up the front walkway of the house, shoulders back and head held high. Her hair looked like burnished gold in the low, autumn sun, braided around her head like a crown. And she had looked like a queen, barking orders to the movers about what to put where.

Cassian had walked next door the next day, ready to use being a good neighbor and welcoming her to the neighborhood as the perfect excuse to talk to her, to learn her name. She’d taken one look at the plate of cookies in his hand and asked him what was wrong with him, informed him that no sane person actually liked oatmeal raisin cookies. It had lit a fire that blazed through Cassian’s veins that he still had yet to douse, that left him going back for more. He lived for the spark that glinted in her blues before she rolled them. Lived for the way the corner of her lips would twitch up with a hidden smile before she scoffed. Lived for the teasing and the taunts and the way his chest felt the first time he made her laugh.

And now, she’s not even here to appreciate his outfit. Or lack thereof.

Cassian’s eyes dance around her porch, looking for a clue that maybe she just stepped inside for a moment, but there’s no book sitting on the swing, no glass sitting on the small outdoor side table. The only thing on Nesta’s porch is a small package placed just beside the door. It has Cassian’s frown growing. Maybe she’s not home?

With a soft sigh, Cassian turns back on the sidewalk, prepared to finish his run regardless, but he barely makes it a step before he recognizes the small, dark colored sedan in the driveway. It’s Nesta’s car, which means she’s definitely home. He glances back toward the front door again. Should he wait her out? He doesn’t want to look like a creeper, doesn’t want her to step outside just to see him standing here dumbly.

He huffs and shakes his head, picking up the pace and starting into a full run after all.

The entirety of the eight mile loop Cassian does on the weekend, he thinks about Nesta. Maybe she’ll be back out on her front porch when he heads back toward his house. Maybe it’ll be better if she sees him after his run anyways. He’s certainly worked up a sweat under the afternoon sun. He just hopes his hair hasn’t gotten too unruly and frizzy from the exertion. But of course, the entire idea relies on Nesta being on her porch when he gets back.

So as Cassian starts on the final two miles of his run, he starts to formulate a backup plan, starts to think about what he’ll do if Nesta isn’t on her front porch. It would be so easy, an easy story, an easy lie. She’d never know, and he could still talk to her today. By the time he’s jogging past Nesta’s still empty porch, the decision is made.

He takes a moment to breathe, to cool down his thundering heart after his run. One last deep, heaving breath, this one more for nerves than anything, and he rolls his shoulders, walking up the front path and the front steps to Nesta’s house. He glances over both shoulders, ensuring there’s no neighbors lurking, watching, and when he’s sure the coast is clear, he bends down and grabs the package waiting for Nesta. He tucks it neatly under his arm, clears his throat, and raises a fist, knocking on her front door.

Hello, Nes. Your package accidentally got delivered to my house.

Hey, sweetheart. Looks like the mailman got the address wrong.

I have your package. Can I come in?

As the seconds continue to tick by in silence, Cassian frowns. He tries knocking again, but still, there’s no answer. He leans over to peek in one of the front windows, squinting through the pane and trying to spot any hint of golden brown hair, of blue eyes.

“Nesta, it’s Cassian. Are you here?” Cassian tries calling through the door.

He waits another minute before stepping back down off the porch. He follows the large, round pavers that are inlaid in the grass around the side of the house. He’s just reached the fence that winds around Nesta’s backyard, reaching over the gate to unlock and open it, when he finally spots her.

Nesta has a blanket strewn out in the grass under the sun. She’s laying on her stomach, knees bent and legs swinging back and forth aimlessly while she reads the book perched between her hands. She has on a pair of black biker shorts, the fabric tight and short where it rides up her thighs. Cassian’s eyes trace the line of her body, along her legs, over her ass, up her back.

His attention snags on her hair, on the fact that her hair is down. It’s the first time he’s ever seen it this way, falling in soft waves over her shoulders and down her spine. It’s beautiful and steals the breath straight from his lungs, his heart skittering between his ribs. He wonders what it would take for Nesta to let him run his fingers through those strands.

Before Cassian can truly spiral about seeing Nesta with her hair down, she pushes up onto her left hand. She uses her right hand to brush her hair over her shoulder and to her back, and Cassian realizes that she isn’t wearing a shirt. She isn’t wearing anything other than those black biker shorts. He takes in her full breasts, the perfect size to fit in his large palms, and his mouth goes dry. He wants to feel the weight of them in his hands, wants to knead them, wants to get his mouth on those dusty rose nipples.

The next thing that Cassian knows, he’s losing his balance. He must have unlatched the lock without realizing, must have put too much weight onto the gate in his dazed state, because suddenly the ground is coming to meet him. He tries to splay his arms, but with the package still in his grasp, he can’t quite brace himself. His face smacks straight into one of the stone pavers, and Cassian swears that he can hear the distinct crunch of his nose. Pain flares and radiates across his face, and he lets out a pained groan, rolling onto his side and clutching at his nose.

“Cassian?”

Cassian blinks open his eyes to find Nesta now standing above him. She has one arm crossed across her chest, covering herself, her face bewildered as she stares down at him.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Nesta demands, face twisting into a scowl.

“Package?” Cassian wheezes out, just the one word sending another jolt of pain through his face. He pulls himself up into a sitting position, blood beginning to trickle between his fingers.

“You’re bleeding all over my patio.”

“So sorry, sweetheart,” Cassian drawls, pressing against his nose to try and stop the bleeding. “Any chance you have a towel handy?”

Nesta scoffs and rolls her eyes, but she vanishes inside her house. When she steps back outside again, Cassian is only slightly disappointed to see that she’s thrown on an oversized tee, but she tosses a dish towel at him. He balls it up and presses it against his nose, mopping up the blood as best he can.

“So, do you plan on telling me what exactly you’re doing in my backyard?” Nesta asks again, crossing her arms.

“I was just bringing you your package…” Cassian starts, pulling the towel away enough that he can see how bad it is.

“The package you stole, you mean? I have a Ring camera.”

Cassian winces and instantly regrets it. “Was just trying to help, sweetheart.”

Nesta hums, but it’s clear from the sound that she doesn’t quite believe him. Her eyes narrow, eyebrows dipped low, as she assesses him, as her attention sweeps over his frame. Cassian watches the exact moment she realizes his current state of dress. Those blue eyes widen slightly, lips pinching together for a moment. The smallest dusting of pink scatters across her cheeks, and her throat works as she swallows.

A smirk starts to tug at Cassian’s lips, pride swelling in his chest at his having an effect on her, at his shorts working after all, but it’s another movement that he instantly regrets. Slowly, he lifts his fingers to his nose, carefully pressing and feeling along the ridge.

“I think it’s broken,” Cassian murmurs, dropping both his hands back into his lap. “How does it look?”

“Do you want me to be honest or do you want me to lie?” Nesta taunts, tilting her head and raising an eyebrow. “It’s certainly an improvement to your face.”

“What if I wanted you to be honest?”

Nesta scoffs and shakes her head, but even with the pain making his eyes water, Cassian can see the barely concealed amusement in her face. The way her eyes glint extra blue under the sun, the way she presses her lips more firmly like that will fight back the fond smile.

“Glad to see that despite breaking your nose, your ego is still fully intact.”

“I heard women like a rugged man with scars. Isn’t that what’s in all those smutty books you’re always reading?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“I’d certainly love to help you reenact one.”

Nesta throws her head back, and there’s Cassian’s favorite sound. Light and breathy, her laugh is truly his favorite melody. It takes the pain of his broken nose to stop his wide grin in response, but there’s no stopping the way his heart swells, the warmth that blooms through his veins, twining like vines around his limbs just like that sound.

“You’re insufferable,” Nesta teases, although there’s no real bite behind the words.

“Any chance of you helping my insufferable self to the ER? I don’t think I can drive.”

“Fine, but if you bleed all over my car too, I’ll kill you.”

Carefully, Cassian pushes himself back up to his feet. “Wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart.”

Thankfully, the ER isn’t too busy, and they don’t have to wait too long before Cassian is taken back. They reset the bones of his nose and splint it, the nurse carefully taping and bandaging everything in place once the doctor is finished.

“The doctor prescribed some painkillers, and you can ice it for the swelling, but you should be all set,” the nurse explains, handing over the script to Cassian. “You just need to sign the discharge papers, and then your girlfriend can take you back home.”

“Oh, I’m not—”

“Thank you,” Cassian cuts Nesta off, nodding to the nurse who offers one last friendly, if not a bit awkward, smile before vanishing to grab the paperwork. He can feel Nesta glaring at him now, but he lets her stew another few moments before finally turning to her. “I should thank you too, for driving me.”

Nesta’s gaze softens then. “Well, I couldn’t just leave you to bleed out in my backyard, could I? I was being neighborly.”

“You should let me properly thank you too,” Cassian dares to push, smiling when Nesta fondly rolls her eyes.

“Why do I have the feeling your idea of ‘properly thanking me’ involves some sort of innuendo?”

“Oh, no. We’d save that later. I was actually just thinking dinner? I’ll cook and everything. You wouldn’t even have to leave your house.”

Cassian watches, entranced as Nesta’s eyes narrow slightly, as her bottom lip finds home between her teeth. Say yes, say yes, say yes, echoes like a chant, a prayer, inside his mind. It’s a plea that thrums in time with the pounding of his heart. With every second that passes, he feels like he can’t breathe, anticipation prickling along his skin, squeezing inside his lungs.

“Alright, but I expect dessert too.”

—

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#nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #nestaweek2023 #acotar #nessian fanfiction #nessian fic #nesta x cassian #my fic

[goodluckdetective]

FIC: FIVE HOURS (Tumblr Edition)

Ship: Durge/Astarion but this is a fic about Astarion

Fandom: BG3

Warnings: Astarion backstory is referenced in passing

Rating: PG-13

AO3

Summary: 

Being controlled by one’s dark urge is hard, but watching someone you care for lose themselves might be harder. Or Astarion and five hours spent watching over someone he can no longer recognize. (How do you keep hating yourself as a monster when you've started to fall for one?)

Notes:

Hello, I took one look at vampire man and Durge and went “ah yes, the drama of falling in love with someone who sees themselves as a monster.” This fic does have a custom dark urge/durge because I don’t think it hits as hard otherwise, but it’s very much a fic about Astarion. Rune in this piece is me holding up a mirror and going “if you’re gonna to see the humanity in this person, then why do you refuse to do it for yourself” while Astarion hisses like a cat. Sorry bud, get perceived. All you need to know about Rune is that they’re a NB human wild magic sorcerer (they/them) A big thanks to @dykezambo and Rose for being my beta readers. I salute you.

Fic is below the cut

HOUR ONE:

Astarion thinks it might still be some sort of sick prank until Rune Tavernus’ eyes roll up into the back of their head and they collapse to the ground in a heap.

A prank would make more sense than this, Astarion thinks, as he scrambles onto his feet and towards the unconscious sorcerer. Rune wasn’t much of a prankster, but they did have some wit and a streak of dark humor to match. What the point would be of a prank like this was beyond Astarion, but in his head he can manufacture a bizarre scenario where Rune thinks it would be funny to give Astarion a taste of his own medicine with a sinister wake-up call. And yes, the whole explanation of “killing the one they cared most for” didn't fit the prank theory, Rune wouldn’t play with his feelings so brazenly, but when one's occasional bedmate starts rambling about being forced to kill you, a cruel trick tends to be a kinder explanation. 

And then Rune passed out and that idea had gone out the metaphorical window.

“Shit,” Astarion says, pressing his palm to their forehead. Rune runs warm to Astarion, almost everyone does, but they feel clammy to the touch. Their short white hair is almost damp with sweat and sticks to their forehead. He shakes them, once, then twice, calling their name with increasing volume, but they don’t stir. That in itself is alarming; Rune is not a deep sleeper. In fact, they’re known for sleeping poorly, waking up from unremembered dreams with a choked-off scream. Every morning they chug whatever caffeinated beverage Halsin brews as soon as it’s cool enough not to burn their tongue. 

Rune doesn’t rouse even after a minute of shaking. Astarion considers waking Shadowheart, but the whole business with Alfira gives him enough pause to instead first go for the rope in his pack. Rune had been back to normal by morning when she was slain; if this is similar, then Astarion would just have to wait until dawn for a full explanation. With a great deal of effort on his part, he drags Rune to an open bedroll closest to the fire and binds their arms together as well as their legs, feeling somewhat like out of body. 

(He tries hard to not think of a pig prepared for slaughter. He tries harder to not think about how Cazador might have tied up the people he brought home the very same way.) 

“You know, this was not the situation I was envisioning when the idea of you and rope came to mind,” he says, because making a flirty joke is familiar and Gods knows he needs something familiar right now. This is a situation he can handle better as Astarion the rake, who lets nothing get too close, who brushes off mortal peril with a quick comment and a fake grin. When he’s sure the ropes are tight, he walks over to his bedroll, and grabs a blanket to sit on, a light scroll, a book, and after some hesitation, his daggers. 

(He’s not going to need them, he isn’t. Rune gave him these daggers and told him to “keep them as sharp as your fangs” should he choose to use them.)

(He desperately hopes he’s not going to need them).

Once his supplies are grabbed and organized, he places the blanket on the ground and sits on it. He casts light on a nearby wilted plant, and sits back. He looks at the sorcerer he has bedded in a gambit for security and thinks about how said gambit turned on its head when he found he actually rather liked the person who offered to cast him minor illusion to see his own reflection and provided their blood in a land of shadows because “you shouldn’t starve.”

“I will admit this isn’t how I wanted to spend my evening, but I suppose I’ll survive.” He reaches for his book and opens it, even though he doubts he’s going to be able to focus enough to read a word. “Hopefully, this is all a false alarm, and I can simply catch up on this chapter. Do you think the Count will actually manage to make any progress in his grand plan, or is he going to keep dithering about Waterdeep for another thirty pages?”

(The book was also a gift from Rune, though it was not the first one the sorcerer gave him. A day after reaching the Blighted Village, Astarion had sneaked back from his midnight meal to find the human grumbling over a slightly burnt text near the fire. Hoping to distract them from the fact he was awake in the first place, Astarion had inquired about the books’ contents, only to find himself the audience for a tirade about overly complicated murder plots. Apparently, Rune had strong opinions on the accuracy of snakes climbing ropes. From that point on, Astarion had found himself part of the world’s strangest murder mystery book club, where the pair both tried to guess how the murder took place and then endlessly complained about how overcomplicated it was when stabbing them in an alley would work just fine). 

Rune does not reply. Astarion doesn’t know if that’s a good thing or not. Instead of debating it further, he instead tries to turn his attention to the text in front of him, and hopes that Rune is wrong and the only thing that will occur this night is Astarion getting some reading in and Rune waking up with some neck pain.

HOUR TWO: 

Rune wakes up around ten minutes after the first hour mark. 

That isn’t quite correct. Something wakes up around the ten minute mark. It is not Rune.

Astarion knows it before they even open their mouth. From the moment they wake up, they struggle against their own bindings, jerking much like a wounded animal caught in a trap. When their eyes open, there are none of the emotions he’s used to seeing in their expression, instead an empty raw look that reminds Astarion of a starving hound. Before he can say a word, they snarl at him.

“I see my rope is sadly going to good use,” Astarion says, putting the book aside and getting on his knees in case he needs to stand and get away. He doubts it, those knots should hold and Rune doesn’t seem to be capable of casting spells at the moment, but it's best to be cautious. 

“I will rip out your tongue and swallow it whole,” Rune says in a voice that does not sound like Rune at all. It’s a whole octave lower, and there’s a throaty edge to it, like the human has inhaled smoke.

“I know I tease quite a bit, but ripping out my tongue is rather excessive, don’t you think?” The banter doesn’t land, it’s almost like Rune can’t even hear him. Astarion wonders if they will even remember this in the morning. 

He hopes not. He can remember watching his body follow Cazador’s every order as he tried desperately to claw back control. It is a fate he would not wish on any of his companions. 

It occurs to him that this could be like a possession. It would make the most sense, and the impulse to wake up Shadowheart returns. Rune hisses and snaps forward, trying to bite one of his hands and Astarion steps back. He can see drool and blood from their now broken lip fall onto the bedroll. 

( He can see himself in a coffin, snapping at the rat Cazador is holding out for him with a wicked smile .)

No, he won’t wake her. Not yet at least, not unless morning comes without a respite. Instead he shakes his head, tries to keep his voice light. 

“Ah, ah, ah, we ask before we bite.”

Rune snaps at him again, struggling at the bindings and Astarion can smell the blood from broken skin on their wrists and lip. His own mouth waters and he ignores it.

If there is one thing he learned in Cazador’s halls, it was how to be hungry. 

HOUR THREE:

After an hour, the thing that has taken Rune’s face stops threatening to murder him and starts growling instead. Despite it being off-putting, Astarion is thankful for the respite, as all the comments about ways to display his internal organs were getting old. 

“You’re cute, you know.,” he says, too tired to think through what he’s saying. “In another life we might have been friends.”

It’s an odd thought that comes to mind, the concept of him meeting whatever this is back when he was under Cazador’s boot. What would he make of someone like this, who growled murderous insults and clawed at the ground as if the dirt could draw blood? Interesting perhaps? Maybe pitiful? An asset against Cazador?

(He knows what he would have done. He would have dragged them back to the manor and not had a second thought as soon as Cazador had them in his clutches. He would have gone back to the rooms and thought nothing more of a human with white hair, a lanky build and a soft smile. He would have continued on and not known that should he have met that same human during the day, they would ask him about the embroidery on his sleeves and tease him that magistrates were actually in contact with the hells. He would not even know the human’s name when the sun rose to a world they no longer occupied).

(He cannot think about this. He refuses). 

He feels like he’s going to be sick. 

“On second thought,” he says, looking away from Rune. The shadow lands around them seem darker at night. He finds himself desperate for the sun. “It’s probably for the best that we didn't meet at all.”

The thing that is not Rune growls again, with more energy this time. 

“Growl all you want but it won’t stop the dawn. This will be over soon.”

HOUR FOUR:

Whatever is controlling Rune goes back to insults eventually, though their voice frayed from all the growling. Astarion ignores most of them, until one in particular captures his attention.

“I will wed you with a delicate veil of blood blooming over your white curls.”

Astarion stares at Rune, or whatever is possessing them, with a rather shocked expression. It says something about his life, or undeath, he supposes, that the word “wed” is the one that caught him off guard in that sentence, not the rest of it. Marriage is not a concept he has thought about in relationship to himself for at least a century. When he was younger it had its allure, Astarion was serious when he said Wyll was the type of man he dreamed of marrying when he was thirteen, but now? He’s a spawn, for Gods sake. Creatures like him either die or become vampire lords: there are no other endings. 

He does not say any of this out loud. Instead he goes for a quip. 

“Marriage? Darling, I think you’re getting ahead of yourself, we’re not even-“

He cuts off. They’re not even what? More than bedmates? That’s not right: he hasn’t bedded Rune since they entered the shadowlands and Rune has made no complaint about it at all. Not even friends? That didn’t seem right either. He’s not sure how to label how he feels about this human, but when one offers to draw your scars in the dirt so you can see them and you actually let them, you were probably at least friends.  Exclusive? No, that also doesn’t fit. Astarion hasn’t bothered to lie with anyone else in camp and Rune hasn’t either, even when Astarion made it clear he didn’t mind. And it wasn’t like Rune didn’t have options to pick from: Lae’Zel’s proposal had been quite direct and Astarion had bit the inside of his cheek to not laugh as their usually composed sorcerer flushed peach pink. Gale had made an attempt as well, though Rune didn’t tell him about that one until afterwards. 

“I’ve spoiled you too much for even the lover of a Goddess. How flattering!” They were in Rune’s tent at the time, a mage light cast upon a blue crystal Rune kept around for decor. It was one of the few pieces of decoration they kept around consistently, as the human tended to switch things out, trying to figure out what they liked and what they didn’t from the ruins of their memory. Rune had returned from a talk with Gale with a moderate flush and after a glass of terrible wine and some cajoling, Astarion had gotten the whole story out of them.

Rune tilted their head and shook it slightly. Their hair was rumpled from a day of casting electricity magic, and Astarion resisted the urge to curl his fingers into one of the white cowlicks. Something about the lack of polish Astarion found endearing.  

“No, no, not that,” they said. “It’s just, well for one, I don’t like him like that. And even if I did, well-” Rune took a sip of their wine, finishing off the glass. “His last relationship wasn’t good for him-”

“Darling, you cannot kill the Goddess of magic,” Astarion said, noticing a hard glint in their eyes. It wasn’t like Astarion was on board with the idea as a concept, the Goddess sounded dreadful, but he rather liked existing and fighting Gods was a speedy way to die. He didn’t mind Rune’s more violent tendencies, but he’d rather they not get themselves smited. 

“Anyway-” Rune continued, ignoring him. “He’s a sweet man but, well.” They placed the glass on a wooden stump Rune used as a side table and tangled their fingers together. It was something they did when they were being thoughtful. “Gale seems to admire me too much for his own good. I’d ruin him.” 

That was not the answer Astarion was expecting. He sat up on his own bedroll, a feeling of apprehension coming over him.

“And what, you think I’m-” Already ruined? That stung more than Astarion cared to admit, even if it wasn’t surprising. He didn’t finish his sentence. He couldn’t. Saying it out loud made it seem too concrete, too physical, too noticeable. 

"What! No!” Rune’s eyes grew large and they shook their head violently. They tore their left hand from their right to gesture with and for a moment, Astarion feared for the fate of the wine glass on the table should they accidentally knock it off. With their right hand, they reached out and grabbed Astarion’s hand tightly, while their left reached out for his jaw, pausing a moment so he could turn away should the touch be unwanted. Astarion didn’t protest, and Rune’s hand touched his chin briefly to tilt his head up so he’d meet their eyes. “No, absolutely not. Shit, I could have phrased that better. Gods, no, Astarion, I didn’t mean it that way.”

"And in what way could you mean it?” The sneer in Astarion’s voice wasn’t intentional, but it was better than sounding hurt. 

Rune bit their lower lip, which was something Astarion often found adorable when he was in a better mood. They looked away from him, took a steadying breath, then looked back. “I’d ruin Gale because he’s a hopeless romantic. He’s sweet, but he has a nasty habit of hubris; if faced with an unstoppable problem, he’d burn himself alive to fix it. I’m not saying you’re not smart, or romantic-“

“Or beautiful, don’t forget beautiful.”

Rune chuckled, some tension leaving their shoulders. “That too, as well as quite vain.” Astarion pouted at the addendum but let the sorcerer finish. “I’m saying you’re smart enough to run away.” 

Astarion considered that for a moment. It was certainly better than what he’d originally thought, but he wasn’t quite sure if it was a compliment. What was that supposed to mean? “Are you calling me a coward now?”

Rune smiled, a little sad, and rubbed their thumb across the back of his hand. It was unfamiliar but nice. “No, no, more realistic .” They leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, something they’d previously only done after sex. “I just know you’ll be safe, that’s all. That you wouldn’t hurt yourself for a hopeless cause.” 

Rune jerks again in their sleep, snapping Astarion out of the memory. Thinks of resignation in the sorcerer's eyes that night, how something about it ached. How familiar the sentiment felt.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Astarion says as the sorcerer spits out another cruel insult.

He’s shocked to find that he means it. 

HOUR FIVE

Astarion has spent much of life afraid, but he has never been so frightened when the dawn is an hour away and Rune has not stopped twitching.

He thought he was done with this, the idea of caring for others. After the year in the darkness, he’d swore to never care about anyone again except himself because caring was a luxury and he couldn’t even afford to buy new clothes. The tadpole has given him more freedom than he’s had in centuries but as long as Cazador was alive, caring was supposed to be off the table. 

And yet. And yet. 

Astarion intended for Rune to be a means to an end. Someone to wind around his finger like an armor against the world. But Astarion does not find himself panicking when his armor is dented or bruised. Astarion does not spend more time with his armor than necessary so it will not be lonely. Astarion does not worry that should his armor learn it was initially a means to an end of keeping him safe, it will never trust him again.

(This metaphor is rubbish, this Astarion knows. Watching someone you care for deeply scrape their wrists raw makes one less adept in turns of phrases).

For the first time all night, Rune whimpers, a small soft noise that would have frozen Astarion’s heart if it was still beating. Rune doesn’t whimper (well, not unless it was in the fun sort of way). They’re  reluctant to show weakness or accept the comfort they so freely give to others. For them to sound like this-

Astarion reaches forward and when the human doesn't try to bite him, he pushes their white hair back and out of their eyes. They were drenched in sweat, and still clammy. Before he can pull away, they lean into his hand with a sigh, seeking comfort from frozen hands, and Astarion feels his throat tighten.

“This thing can’t have you,” he says, running his thumb against their forehead wrinkles and a faded scar just over their right eyebrow. They are so covered in scars, and each day they risk gaining even more. “It won’t win.”

Rune doesn’t respond to his statement, instead breathing softly. They must have finally worn themselves out to fall asleep. Astarion considers pulling his hand back, he probably should given the threat were they to wake up again, but he finds himself reluctant to do so, instead continuing to gently stroke the sorcerer’s brow with his thumb. 

“You have no idea what you do to me, do you?” He whisperes. The birds were starting to chirp now, singing their song in anticipation of the sunrise. “Come back to yourself, and I’ll consider telling you. I think that’s a fair bargain.”

DAYBREAK:

Day comes and Rune returns with it. 

They don’t open their eyes right away, tense and still. Astarion can see them rub their hands together and they stiffen further when the sorcerer’s thumb runs across some dried blood on their palm. He doesn’t understand why until the corner of their eyes tighten and they suck in a short breath, a whisper of a sob on the precipice. 

Rune told the entire camp that when Alfira died, they’d woken up in the morning with their hands covered in blood. For them to wake up and find the same sensation present-

“It’s your own blood, darling,” Astarion says, reaching forward to place his hand on their shoulder. Their eyes open wide, and they take him in with a look that Astarion feels like he might be able to name if he lived a kinder existence. “You rubbed your wrists raw enough to bleed, I’m afraid.”

“Astarion,” they said, lips parting, some tension melting from their frame. “You’re alright.” Then, they flinch, pain crossing their features. “Ow, my neck.”

Astarion almost wants to cry at the complaint. “You might have strained it trying to bite me. Do you remember that?”

Given the sudden look of horror on Rune’s expression, they do now. 

Rune explains what they can after Astarion unties them. Most of it are things Astarion already knows; Alfira, the urges, the loss of sleep. The insight about Isobel and the butler is a new one, and he thinks back to the cape in his tent that Rune had shoved onto him like they couldn’t get rid of it fast enough. At the time, Astarion thought the gift was an attempt to curry his favor. He’s not sure how to view the gift with this new context.

“I was wondering why you didn’t want to spend much time enjoying Harper's hospitality,” Astarion muses. He watches as Rune rubs their wrists with their palms, trying to massage out the aches. They will need to see a healer for certain; Astarion knows they’ve been dabbling in the bardic arts but not enough to heal injuries. 

“I thought I couldn’t risk it,” Rune says, moving to pick up the rope. Astarion watches as they cast mending and then pull at each end. When the rope holds firm, they hand it back to Astarion. “I thought the less time I spent around there, the less likely I might slip up.”

“If you’d shared that earlier, I would have grumbled less about the horrors of the great outdoors.”

Rune shoots him an apologetic frown. “I thought telling Isobel would be enough. I never thought-“ They close their eyes briefly and sigh. “I should have considered it a possibility. I’m sorry.” When they open their eyes again, Astarion does not miss how they take a step away from him. They look towards the other tents, avoiding his gaze.

“I should tell the others.”

Astarion reaches forward and grabs their wrist. They pull back for a moment and Astarion loosens his grip to make it clear that’s an option, if they want it. But after a second passes and they don’t pull away, he pulls their hand up to inspect the rope burns and cuts. Their wrists are going to bruise a sickening greenish-yellow. 

“You don’t have to tell them if you don’t want.” Astarion says, dropping their wrist. He forces a smile, makes sure his fangs are visible. “I can keep a secret.”

Rune’s hand reaches forward and up, like they are going to touch Astarions face, then stops, dropping arruptly. Astarion finds himself disappointed by the lack of contact. How strange. 

“I know you can,” they said. “But they deserve to know that there’s a danger. I can’t hide a monster from everyone.” And with that they head off towards Lae’Zel’s tent, to start gathering everyone for an unpleasant announcement.

It takes Astarion a moment to realize the “monster” they’re talking about is Rune themselves. 

*******************

Rune tells everyone about the night once everyone is up, gathering everyone around the remains of the fire. For someone who might not have slept more than an hour last night, they’re relatively composed as they tell the story, though they don’t look anyone in the eye as is their usual habit. As the tale begins to wind down, Astarion is reluctant to look at their companions either. 

It occurs to Astarion halfway through Rune’s tale something that he should have realized much earlier: he might be content to camp with a sleeping murderer, but other people might object. In fact, most people might protest to such a situation, and he can feel himself grow colder as he realizes a grave mistake.

When Rune woke him last night, Astarion saw someone who needed their help. He’d held off from grabbing anyone else for the sake of Rune’s privacy. But he never considered they might see something else: a monster needing to be exorcized. 

He steps closer to Rune and is very glad they are wearing their gear.  Astarion doesn’t think most of the camp will attack Rune, it would be foolhardy given the prism’s like of their resident sorcerer, but fear makes people foolish and he is not betting Rune’s life. The sorcerer doesn’t appear to be paying much attention to their crowd at all, a rarity for them, speaking of an urge to maim and kill as they stare down at their raw wrists. When they bring their story to a close, their voice is a whisper from overuse.

“And that’s it,” they say, rubbing a thumb over a red mark on their left hand. “I wasn’t trying to keep it a secret, you know that, I just-it escalated so fast. I thought-no I hoped, Alfira was a one off and when I realized otherwise, well-“ A half hearted shrug. “I’m sorry for not saying anything earlier but that’s all I know.” They look up, exhausted. “I can’t promise it won’t happen again. I’m terrified it will happen again.”

Rune is looking at Astarion when he says the last part. Astarion knows what they’re trying to say, besides the obvious. The statement is one part apology and one part resignation. Permission for him to run away as fast as possible and not look back.

He should run away, that’s the thing. Or at least consider it. Astarion has spent two centuries desperately wishing for the power to just run away, and now that he has it, he should be taking it as far away from this ruinous sorcerer as possible.

He doesn’t want to. It’s ridiculous, and ludicrous and absurd, but he doesn’t want to. Not because this group offers him the closest thing he has to protection against Cazador, not because the prism might not work if he runs too far, but because the person who is now the greatest threat to his person was also the one who offered him blood when he was starving, who stole him gently used clothes because he had none, who treated him not with pity or condemnation but as a person. 

Astarion has so little he could call his own. But whatever relationship lies between him and Rune mocking poorly painted portraits and trying to solve mystery novels three chapters in was his. He will not throw it away so easily. 

Karlach speaks first. “So, how are we doing this then? I’m thinking about shifts so no one gets too tired?”

“What?” Rune sounds entirely lost and Astarion finds he doesn’t follow either. He watches as Karlach counts everyone in camp off on her fingers.

“Well, there are seven of us total, so we could probably each pick a different day and then rotate who has two shifts each tenday.”

“Do you think one of us would be suitable alone, or should we do pairs,” Lae’Zel adds, looking equally contemplative. A smile starts to spread across Astarion’s face as he realizes what they’re discussing. “Though if Astarion could hand it by himself, pairs might be a wasteful use of manpower.”

“Hey-“ Astarion says but before he can speak further, Wyll chimes in. 

“I can take tonight: I rested earlier last night anyway.”

“Are you guys offering to watch me sleep?” Rune says, staring at everyone with their mouth slightly open. It would be cute if they weren’t so incredulous. 

“Ew, that makes it sound creepy,” Karlach says. “We’re watching you in case you get all stabby again.”

“Do they even know how to properly wield a blade?” Lae’Zel eyes Rune’s arms and raises an eyebrow. “They couldn’t even open a door two days ago.”

For the first time since they’ve woken, Rune sounds something other than exhausted. “That door was solid stone-“

“Rune can wield a blade just fine,” Astarion purrs, trying to hide the relief that this is the result of this conversation. Everyone groans, Rune included.

They hash out the specifics of the rotation after that. No one mentions when Rune rubs at their eyes and takes a shuddering breath, nor do they point out how they cling to Karlach when she pulls them into a hug. Shadowheart offers to take a look at her religious texts to see if this malady might be divine in nature, while Gale offers in turn to message Tara and inquire about some texts he has back in Waterdeep. By the time Astarion and Rune are left alone, there is a full schedule set for watching the sorcerer for fits, with Astarion free to steal any extra should he wish to monopolize their time for himself without watching eyes. Rune looks an odd mix of fond and overwhelmed.

Astarion’s heart twists at that. Was that how he looked, when Rune offered him blood upon being rudely awoken? Was that how Astarion looked the next morning when everyone else learned of his affliction and no one began sharpening a stick?

Gratitude should not hurt so much. 

“I know you said it’s worth the peril but I did mean it, you know. When I said you could run. I won’t take it personally.” Rune says after a moment. They’re looking him in the eye, a sharp contrast to earlier when they were speaking about their urges. 

“You did mention it, yes. You know, you told me it wasn’t an insult but I find myself rather insulted. Do you truly expect me to cut and run?”

Rune’s chin tilts up, their face stoic, but Astarion can hear the hint of a tremble in their voice. “You should.”

Astarion thinks to last night. How Rune had woken him up and in a shaky voice told him that his life was in danger solely due to the sorcerer’s care. A care Rune apparently doesn’t expect to be returned in light of this recent revelation.

Astarion will have to remedy that. Come clean about his whole botched scheme really, which he’s frankly dreading, but some tasks are worth doing despite the mess. Now isn’t the best time but soon. He’s hoping he’ll find the right words soon enough, words that are actually his instead of automatic cloying phrases used over two centuries of hell. To stop feeling like he needs to put on an act.

“I’ve been doing quite a few things I shouldn’t do recently; walking in the sun, leaving the city, snacking on nearby sorcerers,” He turns to Rune and quirks one eyebrow. “I might as well keep at it with such excellent results.”

Rune blushes and chuckles. Their hand is right there, should Astarion wish to take it, but it doesn’t feel right, not until he tells them the entire truth at least. Hopefully it will still be there once the dust has settled.

It might be nice, he thinks, to lace his fingers between theirs and know that he’s doing so solely because he wants to. 

#iz writes #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #durge #dark urge #durgestarion #astarion #astarion ancunin #bg3 fic

[hannahssimblr]

“Go play on that pirate ship thing,” I tell Ivy, “I’ll be over there on the swings.”

She looks up at me under the brim of her horrible frog hat. She made me buy it for her in the end of season sale at one of those tourist shops by the beach, “I'll go on the monkey bars. Will I show you my tricks?”

She's talking about how she can hold onto bars and spin herself in a circle, “Yeah, sure, I’ll just watch you from over there.”

She rushes over and throws herself up onto a bar, “And what if I want to go on the swings?”

“Well you can’t, not until I’m done talking to my friend.”

“Your girlfriend.”

“No” I plonk onto the wooden swing and wait, the cool air rustling through the bushes and lifting little bits of of twigs from the sandy surface of the playground. I swing myself idly, calling out unenthusiastic words of encouragement to Ivy as she spins and twists on the bars until I hear the playground gate squeak open. 

Clóda looks obliviously happy, out of her work uniform now and back in those teeny tiny shorts that would have had my eyes out on stalks a month ago. It's funny how quickly feelings can change. 

“You brought your sister along!” She says brightly as she approaches me, and I spot Ivy looking our way only to look away quickly with a stricken look on her face. I wonder if she associates Clóda with stranger danger and hot chocolate vomit. 

“I told my mom I was coming to the park, so she made me take her.”

“Aw, she’s so cute though!” She throws a thumbs up to my sister, “Nice job on those bars, yeah? You’re so good, do you do gymnastics?” 

Ivy doesn’t respond. 

“No, she doesn’t, she just likes the monkey bars,” I explain. 

Clóda’s smile is strained when she swivels back to me, “Well, how are you? I’ve actually been un-grounded for a few days now, I… have you been busy?”

“Not really.”

“Oh,” she digs around her hoodie pocket for a scrap of paper and hands it to me, “This is my MSN, my email and my Bebo for when you go home and you want to stay in touch. You’re leaving tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah. I am.” 

“Well, I hope that we can still talk, and stuff, and maybe at midterm break I could get the train up to Dublin and-”

“Clóda, look,” I hand the paper back to her, still folded. “To be honest, I’m not going to be staying in touch with you anymore.”

Her face falls, “Why?”

“Because.” 

“Because?”

“It’s too much effort, I’m not bothered.”

Perplexed eyes fly all over my face, “Is it the distance? Because it’s only two and a half hours on-”

“No it’s not the distance, to be honest, it’s you.”

“Me? What did I do?” 

I sigh, “Your friends gave me a call the other night.”

“Which friends?”

“I don’t know, they were too busy giggling and screaming to give me names, and I could hardly even make out what they were trying to say, but I heard enough.”

“Enough…?”

“Enough to know that you’ve been bragging about me all over the place, making up stories about how I’m going to buy you a heap of stuff in America and whatever, I never said that.”

She shrugs, but she’s so tense now that it’s more like a jerk, “Well, so? You could do that, maybe, if you wanted to. You said you might get me Abercrombie stuff, I was just telling a few white lies about the other things, you know, to make them jealous.”

“Why would you even want to do that?” 

“I don’t know, I suppose they think it’s pretty cool that my boyfriend is so good looking, and like, that he’s American and stuff…” 

“Who said I was your boyfriend?” 

She hesitates, “Well, I thought-”

“Usually,” I say, gesturing to the space between us, “two people will have a conversation about that kind of thing, you can’t just say what you want, or like, just decide on your own what this is.”

She bites her lip, “But when we had sex I thought-”

“Oh God, people have sex, Clóda, why does it have to mean so much?” I raise my voice a bit and Ivy glances around in alarm. I wave her away.

“Maybe it doesn’t to you,” Clóda says, and her voice cracks a little, once again flooding me with guilt, “but for me, it’s-” she breaks off because instead of an inhale there is a gasp, like something related to a sob that brings me to the edge of taking it all back, but I grit my teeth, “We shouldn’t have ever done anything then, I’m sorry.”

“You regret it?”

I don’t answer her, we’ve lost sight of the point, suddenly, and I’m not completely sure how we got here, “Look, I just asked you here so that I could tell you that I don’t want us to hang out anymore after this summer. We don’t have to hash out all of the details-”

“It’s because you don’t like how I kiss,” She insists, “I wasn’t good enough at it.”

“No, that isn’t it, I-”

“It’s my dad. He’s put you off. Did he say something to you?”

“No.”

“Well then it has to be because I forgot my jumper when we-”

“No, Clóda,” I explode, “It’s because you’re mean. Because you’re not a nice person, okay?”

She blinks.

“You went around the caravan park telling everyone that Kelly Healy is a loser and she needs her mother’s help to make friends, that’s just such a mean thing to do, and I don’t understand why you would do something like that, especially now because everyone thinks that it was me who said it.”

She takes a break from looking pathetic to let her features twist into an unpleasant shape, “Oh, Kelly? But we don’t like her, that’s what you said.”

“What?”

“We laughed about her after going to Shane’s place, you said that she was weird, I didn’t think anyone would really care if I said it to a few people. It just came up, I don't know. Why does it matter?”

“Obviously because it’s a ridiculously horrible thing to do. You just told a load of the people she hangs around with something highly personal about her that you weren’t even supposed to know.”

A pause, “Yeah but she’s weird.”

I am incredulous, “God, Clóda, is this really how you think? Is that your reasoning? That if you don’t like someone then you can say what you like about them to whoever will listen? Why do you act like this, huh? I can’t believe how much time I wasted this summer hanging out with you. You’re ridiculous. You act like a child.”

She bursts into tears, “Well I’m fifteen! What do you want from me?” And she sobs, standing in place while I sit opposite, uncertain of what I am supposed to do next. Is this what fifteen is supposed to be? Sometimes I feel so detached from genuine teenage reality that I cannot possibly imagine how I am supposed to experience it. In some ways I feel twelve years old, in others, twenty, so far removed from the freedom and reality of proper teendom that I can't even imagine what fifteen feels like. Was I ever like her? 

“I think we’re too different,” I say finally, “I think that’s why we can’t hang out.”

“But I really like you,” she sniffles, while in the background Ivy hangs from the monkey bars by her knees, her ugly hat dropping onto the ground. 

“Look, Jude!” She calls, “I can do a new trick.”

“Yeah, amazing,” I say, “Make sure you don’t slip and hit your head, huh?”

“I wouldn’t!”

“Yeah, you might, and then what will I do, huh? Take you back home with your head cracked open?”

“I wouldn’t have to go back to school then.”

“Yeah, good one,” Maybe I’ll crack my skull open too. It feels like a genuine option to consider as I sit there with Clóda crying right in front of me, blocking my exit route. 

“I’m sorry,” I say to her, “It’s just not meant to be, I guess.”

“Okay.”

“Good luck with it all, yeah? The job and school and all that. I’ll probably see you around next summer.”

“You’ll be back?”

“Uh huh. Probably the summer after that too,”

“Oh.”

“It doesn't have to be awkward. We can just be normal.”

She sniffs, “Alright”

I look up at her from where I sit and take in the tears on her cheeks, the way her chest heaves with each gasp, and I tell her “You'll be alright.”

I get up and call for Ivy, “c’mon, we’re going home now.”

“Right now?”

“Yeah.”

“I wanted a go on the swings.”

I look around to see that Clóda has taken my place on the seat and is blubbering miserably into her sleeves. 

“Swings are closed,” I say. 

“Okay, well, you can take me tomorrow.”

“We’re going home tomorrow.”

“Early.”

“You want me to get up early?”

“Yes, you’re lazy, you should have to get up early like me.”

“Yeah but you have an incentive, I don’t care about the seven AM cartoons.”

“Well you should.”

I laugh, “Why is that?”

And she tells me why, and we walk out the playground gate and through the village, side by side with the last of the August sun on our backs. 

Beginning // Prev // Next

#lucky boy #there you go #end of 2008 #very excited to move on to 2009 after a short break #I've been so ridiculously unorganised with this story #I need time to really get ahead #so gimme a week or two and I'll be back x #tw: bullying #tw: sex mention

[upsidedog]

max mayfield is 7 years old, like kelly green and annie johnson, who are her best friends. she isn’t their’s, she knows this. like she knows kelly will live in a mansion, become a princess and drive a lamborghini with her twelve kids and husband, tom simon, her seat partner. kelly’s happy, obviously, she cheated, she always cheats at m.a.s.h, but max is happy for kelly anyway, she tells her. max is marrying annie’s dad, the other girls gag at the idea, she makes a joke about marrying rich “like grandma said my mom should’ve!” max laughs too loud, no response from the girls. “i’m glad she didn’t though cuz i love my dad…” she specifies. this embarrassment doesn’t stop her from squealing at her own barf joke later on, she repeats it in case kelly and ann didn’t hear. “she’s so annoying, do we have to keep hanging out with her? your guy’s moms aren’t even friends anymore.” kelly pleads after recess, max knows they know she can hear them.

max mayfield is 9 years old, she and billy hargrove recently became siblings, legally at least, billy would not call them that, max doesn’t care. and not in the way that she’s feigning chillness to seem on top of things, but in the way that she knows if she plays her cards right she can prove herself as someone worth calling a sister. “that jacket makes you look like a dyke.” billy says, he and his friends pool into the backyard. a month ago she’d ask if she could play with them, but she’s smarter now, she’s no longer a pussy, she’s a dyke, its change, it’s progress, she can work with it. “yeah, even more than usual.” one of the friends adds, everybody laughs. max remains focused on tightening the bolts of her skateboard and uses her free hand to flip the boys off. mentally she prays this is what playful sibling fighting looks like and not an action that will get her deck ripped away from her and broken against the concrete. it’s fine, the boys mock and jeer but don’t say anything she hasn’t heard before. another friend asks if she rides her skateboard or just pretends to be it’s mom. this is in reference to the time she convinced herself the boys were interested in knowing her and earnestly spoke about the mechanics of her skateboard, being too passionate, speaking too much, smiling too wide. all things she has since learned the right amount of is none. “i don’t know.” she gets up. “do you have a life or are you such a dweeb the only time you feel the need to get off your ass is to annoy a little girl with real hobbies?” when she walks off she hears the other boys gang up on him, he’s the new fool, all the other boys were just guilty of the same thing, but whatever. she thinks maybe if she maintains this for a little longer they can return back to the sibling conversation. they don’t even have to call it that, they could just do the part where they’re nice to each other sometimes.

max mayfield is 11 years old. jenny chen is a teenager, fifteen, from san francisco, short black hair, dresses like she’s on the cover of thrasher, first girl max has ever seen at the skate park who isn’t just there to watch. max wants to be her friend so bad it makes her stomach turn. until it happens. “i never see other girls who skate! it’s so cool to meet you, i’m jenny!” max knows. she ignores jenny’s invitation to fist bump. “do you really skate? or are you just someone’s girlfriend?” max knows the answer to the question, but she also knows the ending to this story. jenny pulls her hand back like max hit it. “yeah i skate, but i’m sure the boys here wish.” her laugh is refreshing, max didn’t know that was a thing laughs could be, it was so cool and light and confident, like it reset something in her. max wonders how someone can be so cool without any hit of cruelty, when max tells jenny she has to do a trick to prove it she shrugs and agrees like it wasn’t something said with the intention of upsetting her. jenny does an ollie off on the half pipe and asks if she can see any of max’s tricks. it makes max more upset that there’s no malice in this request, the audacity to show genuine interest in her. max is usually too mean but to jenny she cannot be mean enough. and typically she cannot do an ollie off a half pipe. today is no different. she falls and wakes up in the hospital. billy hands her flowers, rolls his eyes, then goes to wait in the car. max’s mom lets jenny apologize. it’s a real genuine apology, even though she has nothing to be sorry for it still feels good and different. max tells jenny to leave and never sees her at the park again.

max mayfield is 13 years old, she wonders if the group of boys yelling over dig dug are too. her initial annoyance with their hogging of her favorite game has melted into an admiration.. that’s too bold, curiosity, maybe. there’s arguments every other minute but between those there’s “oh wait! oh shit! lucas you genius! you genius!” whoever’s praising “lucas” gets so excited his friend progressed in the game the other boys have to pull him away. when the little one says he can’t see, no one mocks his size, instead the group instinctively makes room for their friend. and they’re all being too loud, too passionate, definitely taking the game too seriously. max wonders what it would be like to have something like that. she wonders how long they have all been friends for. do you have one chance for something like their’s as a child and then never again? has she missed her opportunity? could she even exist in an environment like that or would her cruelness be so sharp it’d cut through any moments tenderness? if she just walked up and asked to join what they’d say? answers for another day. maybe never. probably never.

max mayfield is 15 years old and mike wheeler’s basement is her favorite place in the whole wide world. which is why it’s the ideal location for her birthday party. sure billy is dead and el and will are moving next week, but ignore that, because yes will and el are moving away which is sad because they’re two of her best friends, but they’re two of her best friends, and she’s there’s. el is sitting on the floor with max making stupid jokes and max is clutching a pillow to her stomach, laughing like she’s alone, too much, too loud, dustin joins in and is even worse, she loves it. lucas interrupts, nudging her back with his foot. “this is the part you like.” he mouths, big, stupid, earnest, adorable smile on his face, so proud to remember. she’s proud of him too, swooned might be the better word, if she’s being honest. she likes him so much she wants to shrink herself into something small and accessible for him, but the worst part is that isn’t even what he wants from her. as much as max is trained to see the worst in others, lucas is real and warm and never says anything he doesn’t mean and he says he likes her. “thanks.” is all she can get out, trying not unravel from the affection. her last straw is mike and will marching down the basement stairs singing happy birthday. she’s clenching her teeth, mentally “don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry”-ing. she’s crying. it didn’t work, she’s crying. they’re doing this nice thing and she’s going to ruin the moment because she’s crying, they’re the best friends she’s ever had and she’s crying, they’re the only friends she’s ever had and she’s crying and they’re hugging her and laughing and she’s laughing and oh god, it’s good, she’s crying because she’s loved.

#stranger things #max mayfield #lumax #elmax #madwheeler #madcleric #idk any of the other pairing names (the 1s u’d think are platonic r platonic btw) #byler #<- idgaf them bringing that cake down the stairs was romantic #sorry for the longness and the me clearly not being a writerness i need a way to write fanfiction without writing fanfiction #tw d slur #cw d slur

[pizzaqueen]

#23 for the spotify wrapped fic thingy!! 👀

23 was Speak Now or Forever Hold Your Peace by Cheap Trick

I feel like I’m cheating a little, here, because this is a snippet from a WIP (called Ain’t Even Done With the Night where Steve and Eddie go to a concert somewhere and then Steve wants to pick up a couple of girls when they go to a bar after and Eddie goes along with it because he just does—nothing really happens between them and the girls btw!!) that just happens to have this song on the ‘soundtrack’.

But I do think it fits the song? And I did write it just for this, so hopefully that counts!!!

“So…” Steve shifts, making the ancient mattress dip as he moves; the springs creak, echoed moments later through the wall from the bed in the adjoining room. Those springs are probably squeaking for a different reason though. “Are you going to see that chick again?”

Eddie glances over at Steve. There’s something guarded in the tone of his voice, and his face doesn’t give anything away either. “Maybe.”

“Cool.” Steve nods, pressing his lips together. “I mean, she gave you her address, and we’re not that far away, so it would be easy.”

“Yeah, she said we could be penpals.”

Steve huffs. “Is that what they’re calling it these days?”

“It would just be as friends,” Eddie says, cautiously, wondering at the bitterness in Steve’s voice. Or maybe he’s imagining it.

“Sure.”

“No, really.” Eddie’s brow furrows. “I’m not interested in her. She wasn’t interested in me.” He pauses, then adds, “Except as a friend.”

“Then why…” Steve shakes his head. “Why did you agree to go back to their place?”

“Because you wanted to.”

Steve blinks. “You’re saying you just went along with it because I wanted to?”

“Yeah. I didn’t want to ruin your night.” Eddie lets his head tip back, thunking against the wall. “Which I guess I did, anyway.”

“Dude. I told you—” A muscle in Steve’s jaw ticks. “Look, if I cared more about getting laid than I cared about you, I wouldn’t be here. I’d be back there with her.”

“Aww, shucks.” The beat of Eddie’s heart belies his teasing tone, and he’s glad Steve can’t hear it.

“I mean it. You don’t know…” Steve toys with the comforter. “You don’t know how much you…” He sighs, shaking his head.

“Steve?”

“Nothing, man.” Steve runs a hand over his face. Silence stretches out, punctuated by the continued creaks from the other room, now accompanied by grunts and moans, and the buzzing of the bare bulb, the traffic outside. “Look, I’m glad you’re feeling better and…” He sighs again. “We should probably get some sleep if we want to get back early.”

Eddie doesn’t say anything, just watches as Steve slips down, rolling over so his back is toward Eddie. There’s a churning in his stomach and, before he knows what he’s doing, he’s saying, “I wasn’t sick.”

“What?” Steve glances over his shoulder.

“I didn’t feel sick, back at the apartment.”

More creaks as Steve pushes himself up, sitting beside Eddie again. “Then what…”

“I just…” This is it, Munson. Now or never. Eddie draws in a deep breath and says, “I couldn’t be there, knowing you were with her.” He looks at Steve. “You know?”

“Did you like her?”

Eddie sighs. “Steve.”

Steve gives a little shakes of his head.

“C’mon, man,” Eddie says, hating the pleading tone in his voice, “don’t make me say it.”

There’s a sharp inhale of breath and then a soft, “Oh,” and Eddie’s chest goes tight and his stomach drops.

“Yeah…” The noise from the next room over stops; a door opens and closes down the hall. “Do you want me to get another room?” Eddie tries to keep his tone light, but he’s pretty sure he fails. Spectacularly.

“No.” Steve’s voice is certain, brooks no arguments, and when Eddie looks at him, he doesn’t see disgust or pity or anything except… Oh. Oh shit. “No,” Steve repeats, hand darting across the worn comforter, stopping short of grabbing Eddie’s, “I want you to stay,” and it’s all Eddie needs to hear.

#steddie #Steddie fic #Steddie fanfic #Steve x eddie #pizzaqueenfic #pizzaqueenwrites

[ninoisntluka]

Okay so I literally cannot get Anon and Taki out of my head because they’re just so interesting. Like they can’t stand each other, but both of them have something that the other needs, so they have to stick together. And sure, part of it is their bad first impression, but I think the biggest reason they don’t get along is because they’re so much like each other, and they don’t particularly like themselves that much either. And since one of their main similarities is their insecurity, they're incredibly jealous of whatever the other person has that they’re lacking.

Like Anon wants to be popular, but she can’t be popular if she’s in a bad band. She knows what it’s like to put herself out there and fail, so she won’t let that happen again. Meanwhile Taki wants to be in a band with Tomori, but because Taki’s quick to anger and kind of tactless when speaking, she’s really bad at keeping bands together. Honestly it doesn’t really look like she has many friends outside of Urimi. But Anon has the social skills that Taki doesn’t have, and can use it to get people to do what she wants. Meanwhile Taki actually knows what she’s doing on the band front and can write music and get Anon to a level where she can play properly in front of a large crowd.

I have a whole lot of thoughts about them so I wrote a whole essay under the cut

Like take a look at their practice once they got going for real, when Anon wasn’t struggling to catch up anymore and can actually let her talents shine. Raana is bothering Taki about doing another live and Taki cannot handle her. They get stuck in an infinite loop because they’re both stubborn and have a one-track mind. But Anon is the one who shows Taki that giving Raana a treat can distract her, at least for a little bit. And then later when they are at Soyo’s House, Taki does the exact same trick to get Raana to sit still for a bit. Anon is also the one who insists on costumes and a name for a band, something that is pretty important, but that Taki doesn’t really focus on because she needs to work on making a new song in only a couple of days.

Meanwhile, on the day of the actual live, Anon is an actual mess. She was the least involved in actually writing the song, other than Soyo but Soyo’s acting like she doesn’t care so we won’t count her. Meaning instead, Taki is the one who has to take the lead with the band. And although Taki later says that even she isn’t too sure how ready the song is, she’s at least confident enough to put on a brave face when it comes to music, since she’s in her element. But the thing is, neither of them are actually very confident in the thing they’re strongest in.

Anon’s thing is that she’s really good at communicating. On her first day of class, she managed to join a friend group super easily! And despite only knowing Tomori for like a day, she’s really good at picking up whatever Tomori was feeling and was super gentle and accommodating, which is really impressive considering Tomori always had trouble connecting with people and having them understand her. And on only her first day, Anon was able to pick up the hottest recent trend, that everyone was in a band, and was able to get in on that real fast. She was voted the student council president in middle school. And when she accidentally insults Soyo’s friend in front of her, Anon is able to smooth that over real well. And yeah, part of the reason Soyo didn’t mind was because she was using Anon as a link to Taki and Tomori, sure, but if that were me I would have been mortified, so the fact Anon kept her cool is a testament to how good at these things she can be.

But when she goes to England, she loses that. She can’t keep up with English conversations because what she studied wasn’t enough. She got complacent because she was praised for being good at English for a Japanese Middle Schooler, but when actually struggled she couldn’t keep at it. She felt overwhelmed by how everyone there was already better than her and started to feel insecure in her own ability to speak English. And so, she can’t communicate with anyone, she can’t even get them to call her Anon. Unlike in Japan, where she can easily make friends who admire her, she’s alone in England. So she runs away back to Japan. And this failure haunts her. When Anon reveals this to Tomori, she also says it isn’t a one time thing, that she always runs away when things start getting hard.

And Taki is the one who calls her out on this. Anon got easily carried away with learning beginner’s chords, but that’s not enough for the level of band Mygo could be. Anon’s just not really that good when it comes to Music. It’s really not her fault. Compared to Soyo, Raana, and Taki, she has the least experience other than Tomori, and Tomori is a lyrical genius. And although Anon was pretty good for a hastily put together band in middle school, it’s not enough. She got to a level where people would praise her for picking up the guitar so fast, but being good for a beginner isn’t the same as being good at a guitar. If she had continued like this, she probably would have ended up just like what happened in England, where she got overconfident in her English and got scared when she realized that people already there were at another level. And it’s not just Taki being mean to Anon since even Soyo told Taki that someone would have to tell Anon this eventually. Then again this is Soyo so maybe not the most unbiased source. But come on, Anon isn’t even the best guitarist in Mygo, Taki was onto something here.

But really, it isn’t the music that Taki does better than Anon, but determination. Anon could not follow through when she realized she was out of her league, and would quickly give up. But Taki doesn’t do that. Even when Taki feels like she’s not as good as Saki or her sister, Taki keeps on working. I can’t say it’s healthy for her though.

But yeah, Taki is also wallowing in the regret of her failures. Taki’s sister is a sore spot for her, and although we haven’t seen her yet, she’s the president of the brass band club at Soyo’s school, plays in a local orchestra, and even won a contest, so it’s a safe guess that she’s a very talented musician. And it’s an even safer guess that Taki really doesn’t get along with her sister. When Soyo first brought her up, Taki got annoyed by her compliments. and when she needed information on Soyo, Taki was more willing to go to Mutsumi, a person who Taki hadn’t spoken to since their last band broke up, rather than her sister. It’s probably one-sided though too, considering Taki’s sister was more than willing to help Taki by telling her about the show their brass band club was putting on.

But like, we don’t exactly know what caused Taki to be so jealous of her sister. I mean it’s pretty obviously about music, but still. What we do know is that she was mentioned in the same breath as Sakiko though, so we’ll just say it’s about composing for now. Later we hear that Taki only picked up composing in middle school, but she struggles with it. Taki has to deal with Raana’s Musical Improvisation, account for Anon’s inexperience, and write notes for Tomori’s lyrics, which she idolizes. And try as she might, Taki isn’t Saki. She isn’t able to effortlessly put together sheet music that can fit Tomori’s legendary lyrics and compensate for everyone else’s quirks like Saki did. She isn’t accomplished like her sister. And this gets to her.

Just like how Taki picked up on Anon’s insecurity about running away, Anon picks up on Taki’s issue as well, that Taki will not let anyone in and try and do everything herself. Taki knows that Anon can’t keep up with them, that’s why Taki makes Anon practice separately from everyone else. It’s cruel, but Anon agrees and does it, because she wants to get better as well, and doesn’t want to run away anymore. But Anon needs time, which is why she still gets some notes wrong. But the fact that Anon could drag the whole band down, or how Raana is too flighty, is adding to Taki’s stress about how she can’t be happy about her own composition, so she lashes out at Anon. And Anon fights back about how Taki herself is part of the problem because she’s being cruel and only thinking about herself.

And that’s wrong since we know that Taki has the same concerns as Anon about her changing the sheets every practice. But because Taki isn’t letting any of them in, it’s instead only creating friction as she decides stuff without them and it looks like she doesn’t care about their opinions.

Taki taking on all the responsibility of the band’s next performance isn’t healthy for her, but no one is going to call her out on it. Anon is struggling with the guitar on her own, Tomori and Soyo don’t want to rock the boat after finally getting a second chance to play together, and Raana doesn’t realize what’s going on at all. And even when Tomori and Soyo offer to help Taki, she instead takes it in the worst way possible and thinks they don’t trust her. Which is why it helps that Anon’s there because she won’t let people misunderstand her and literally chases Taki down until she actually stops and listens to them.

But let’s be real, composition isn’t the only reason Taki wants to be like Saki. Taki wants to be like Saki because Saki could actually get a band together.

Taki’s not good at that at all. After Crychic’s break up, Taki gives Tomori some space because she thinks that’s what Tomori wants, even though we later see that they both want to be in a band together again. And then when she tries to pull a Saki and unilaterally introduce a new band member with Urimi, that whole thing crashes and burns because she didn’t consider how Anon or Tomori would feel about replacing Soyo so suddenly, and it just ends up hurting Anon and Tomori, leading to the final nail in the coffin that breaks up the band that she really wanted with Tomori.

And Taki really likes Tomori. She also really likes Tomori’s lyrics. Taki actually felt seen when she heard Tomori’s lyrics. But despite feeling like Tomori knows Taki, Taki doesn’t really get Tomori like Saki or Anon does.

Anon can read Tomori like a book as mentioned before, but Saki’s first interaction with Tomori was actually a misunderstanding. But despite that, Saki got something out of Tomori that even Tomori didn’t know about before, her lyrics. And Anon was the one who got Tomori to admit she wants to be in a band again, something Taki couldn’t do but desperately wanted. Actually Taki’s pretty jealous of how close Anon and Tomori are in general, remember how offended she got when she found out Anon and Tomori had nicknames for each other and Taki was still “Taki chan”? In fact, Anon and Taki’s first fight is about Anon asking Tomori to join her band.

Because as much as Taki wants to be the new Saki, she’s not her. Even though Taki has picked up Saki's composition role, the closest replacement to Saki in their current band is Anon. Anon’s the one who got the band together. Anon and Saki were both inspired by bands at their schools, Saki who likes Morfonica and Anon who only really likes Afterglow because everyone else at their school likes them. And even though Anon doesn’t play it, the piano prelude in the new Haruhikage was replaced with a guitar. Hell, even their basically first meetings with Tomori mirror each other, with Tomori offering both of them a bandage after they fall trying to help her.

But the thing is, Anon doesn’t want to replace anyone. She refused to join her classmates' band because she thought she would end up off to the side if she did. She was worried about this too when she saw that Raana’s guitar playing would overshadow hers. Anon wants to make her own mark, that’s why she was willing to ignore Tomori’s talent and be the singer of their band and why she insisted on putting her name in all of her suggestions for the band’s name. It’s also why she’s so hurt that Soyo never wanted her in the band in the first place. She gets hurt when Tomori doesn’t immediately fight to keep Anon in their band. Unlike Taki, Anon doesn’t want to replace Saki. If anything, she’d be envious of how Taki was one of the people in the band Soyo actually wanted.

Do you see what I mean about both of them having what the other lacks? Like Taki wasn’t able to get Soyo to return to the band, but Anon was able to. Taki’s a talented musician who Saki scouted and thought was talented enough to play with them, but let’s be real Saki wouldn’t even give Anon a second glance when it comes to playing guitar. And that jealousy is only made worse by the fact that they literally cannot get along.

Literally they are always on opposite sides whenever there’s an argument. When it comes to promising to be in a band together forever, when Soyo brings up how hurt Saki was hearing them play Harukikage, when it comes to costume, and even when they agree with each other they’re fighting! Taki’s easily misunderstood, she often says the wrong thing and messes up. Anon is impulsive and even though she can read the room she sometimes says the wrong thing in the heat of the moment. And if Anon’s issue is that she runs away when things get tough, then Taki’s issue is that she pushes people away until she’s left behind. Plus neither of them tolerate being disrespected, which is difficult since after their first meeting, where Anon thinks Taki falsely accused her and Taki thinks that Anon was harassing Tomori, neither of them really respect each other.

But despite that, they need each other, they won’t let each other go. Anon spams Taki’s phone when she’s skipping practice and waits almost 3 hours with Tomori outside of Taki’s school. Taki tries to get a new bassist to play with them after hearing that Soyo doesn’t want to play with Anon. And sure, part of it is because neither of them want to give up on the band they spent so long on, but they also like each other, even if they won’t admit it.

Taki gets really offended when she finds out that Soyo was only getting along with Anon to use her. And sure, most of it is because Soyo is turning her back on the band that Tomori worked so hard to get together, but later Taki presents the choice to Tomori: Soyo or Anon and Raana. And sure, Soyo already said she wasn’t going to be part of the band anymore after Saki rejected her, but Taki made her choice already and chose Anon. Partly because Anon was the only option, but also because Taki respects Anon.

Once they get back together, Taki apologizes for telling Anon what Soyo said, although in a roundabout fashion which is probably the best we’re going to get out of her. She thinks that it’s amazing that Anon could still play after hearing what Soyo said about her, but even so, Taki wasn’t surprised that Anon would still practice even after hearing that. I don’t think Taki expected that Soyo not wanting Anon would hurt her so much. Taki kind of thought that Anon was stronger than Taki, that Anon could have somehow withstood Saki’s mysterious departure from Crychic if she was there. But Taki overestimated Anon, and didn’t realize how hurt Anon would have been to hear that. Kind of like how Anon overestimated how much of the music they could leave to Taki in the first live. Maybe that’s why Taki doesn’t begrudge Anon for leaving like she does with Saki.

And it’s not just one way! Anon really likes Taki at this point too. She followed Taki’s spartan training regiment even when Taki was treating her unfairly because she trusted Taki’s music sense. She showed Taki the trick to dealing with Raana. Anon just really likes everyone in Mygo! She’s so relaxed around them. And while she usually lets it go when the conversation moves to a topic other than her, with Mygo she’s more than comfortable enough to be super needy and try to make everything about her. Plus Anon gives all her friends nicknames, like Soyorin or Tomorin. And sure, Anon was making fun of her by calling her Rikki, but technically Taki was the first one to get a nickname! I’m not delusional here!

Honestly they're both really similar, even if they won’t admit it. Even when their bands have broken up they still try to learn new skills and practice just in case they ever get back together. Both of them are too ashamed to join Tomori back on stage but are more than willing once someone “forces” them to. And the two of them even have a quick moment with Soyo where they tell her they don’t blame her for using the band. In fact, the two of them were also doing the same, Anon who used Soyo and the band to get popular, and Taki who used Soyo’s feelings for Crychic to get her in the band.

But the biggest way they’re alike is how they both want Tomori in their band.

They’re selfish. Anon wants Tomori because her band’s popularity will go up in her class if the student everyone is interested in joins her. Taki wants Tomori in her band because she only feels seen with Tomori’s lyrics.

But obviously it isn’t just that. When Taki sends Anon running away after pointing out how she’s not determined, it’s Tomori who convinces her to come back. When Anon is chasing Taki around her school after their fight in the practice room, it’s Tomori who gets Taki to stop.

Tomori is why the two put up with each other even though they can’t stand each other. Because they both have to be with Tomori, even if it means being with someone they can’t get along with since they’re just too similar. Although ironically enough, they both have what the other lacks so that just breeds jealousy, especially considering how insecure the two of them are.

Before she met Tomori, Anon always ran away. And even after meeting Tomori, Anon still runs away. But the thing is, Anon is disappointed in herself for this. She’s ashamed she can’t follow up on her promises. She runs away because she doesn’t want people to get too close and see past her façade, since she thinks all that they will see is a failure. That’s why she tries to avoid her old classmates, since she’s scared of what they’ll think. But Tomori is the one who sticks by her even at her lowest point, and offers to stay lost together. Even if Anon had shallow reasons for pursuing Tomori at first, they grow into something else, something more personal.

And Taki has her own reasons for sticking with Tomori. When Taki talks about Tomori’s lyrics, she says that it made her feel like even someone like her had a life worth living. And we’re not going to unpack all that here, since it probably has something to do with being in the shadow of her older sister and her loner status, but even if she doesn’t like herself all that much, Tomori is her salvation.

And because they toughed it out for Tomori, they actually come out better on the other side.

Despite Anon having the chance to run away from the band, she kept at it, even if it was hard. It was Taki who pointed it out, and Tomori got the chance to help Anon overcome it by promising to face her fear together.

And she did. Like this is a reach, don’t get me wrong, but I think Anon gets over what happened in England when she’s with Mygo. She’s the one to suggest having their band name be in English. And we can see in the background that she’s struggling with the English in front of them, but she doesn’t give up until she’s happy with what she came up with! Growth!

And speaking of growth, by episode 12, Taki’s actually relaxed enough to go with a new song that isn’t perfect yet. Episode 6 Taki could never. Honestly everything about episode 12 Taki is more relaxed than before. She wanted to do a live properly with Tomori and was super stressed about getting everything right, but now that Taki is with the rest of Mygo, she’s fine with leaving them to their own devices since she trusts them now and doesn’t feel the need to burden herself with everything again. She feels more exasperated in them than on edge if that makes sense?

It was Tomori who actually got them to get over their initial issues, but if it wasn’t for Anon or Taki bringing it to the surface, I don’t think it would have ever gotten resolved at all.

And don’t get me wrong, it was probably also because they got more comfortable with the rest of Mygo that they could finally overcome their own insecurities. Like sure they both are missing something the other has, but they’re missing a lot in general, and they’re really alike so they’re both missing it. Which is where the rest of Mygo comes in. They don’t have Tomori’s gentleness. They’re prone to overthinking which is a problem Raana doesn’t have. They get so caught up in their own ideas that they can’t see the bigger picture like Soyo can.

They're so fun! I wanna see so much more of them, Mygo Season 2 when?

#mygo #bandori #anon chihaya #taki shiina

[kidstemplatte]

Hey! How are you? So as halloween is very close I just can't stop thinking how would dad!terzo be with his daughter during halloween time during the years, like since she was a little kid until she is now a teenager. Just some thoughts that were in my mind. Sorry for my english it's not my first language. Have a lovely day or night.

dad! terzo on halloween 🎃 🦇🕸️

hi! i’m doing well, thank you for asking! and there’s no need to apologize, your english is great! thank you so much for the request, here are some dad! terzo halloween headcanons! please enjoy! ❦

-the clergy takes halloween very seriously

-terzo makes sure the entire building is decorated for halloween even if his brothers deem it “unprofessional”

^they secretly love it though m

-they throw a halloween party every year

-of course after violetta is born it’s a little less alcohol-oriented haha that’s for the after party

-the great thing about having a baby is that you can dress them up as whatever you want on halloween and it’s adorable.

-on violetta’s first halloween she was a baby bat🥺🦇 (her nickname)

-and of course everyone thinks it’s the most precious thing EVER. (because it is.)

-when she is old enough to make her own choices, the first thing she wants to be is “papa!” which nearly makes terzo cry.

-so he does her makeup and one of the sisters makes her a custom robe and everything.

-he even lets her be “papa” for the day at the clergy and it’s so cute 😭

-violetta has a little brother🤭 so of course y’all do the addams family one year, it’s perfect.

-terzo takes them trick or treating every year ofc and always reminds them to use their manners

“now, what do we say?”

“grazie!” they say in unison

-every year during the halloween season terzo drives them through different neighborhoods and they rate the houses’ halloween decorations

-terzo doesn’t like jack o lantern carving (he doesn’t like getting his hands dirty😭) but does it every year because it makes the kids laugh because i headcanon this man cannot draw at all so his pumpkins look silly😭

-lets the kids keep the candy they have from trick or treating as long as they don’t tell mom LMAO

-one halloween when she is a little older, she begs terzo to let her watch a scary movie with him on halloween because he watches them late at night all the time and she wants to be like him.

-he warns her over and over again that she will regret it, but alas, he cannot resist his little star.

-she regrets it. 💀

-terzo ends up having to sit by her bed until she falls asleep, reassuring her that there is nobody hiding in the closet or under the bed. and that if there is, he will annihilate them.

-eventually violetta grows to enjoy scary movies and they have a tradition of having a scary movie marathon together every year.

-when violetta is older, in her teens, i can see her doing really cool costumes like a female edward scissorhands or elvira

-violetta likes doing makeup so eventually the tables turn and she ends up doing his makeup for halloween later on as opposed to when he did hers 🥺

╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝

i’m so excited for the halloween season!!! i hope you enjoyed this!! please know if you’ve sent me a request i WILL get to it and i’m working on it atm!

♡, alice

#the band ghost #ghost band #papa emeritus iii #terzo #ghost #papa emeritus #papa terzo #terzo headcanons #dad! terzo #ghost headcanons