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cas-coding · 1 year

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He’s seven when it hits him.

Sam’s pulling at Dean’s pigtails, his new favorite pastime as Dean makes dinner, just a quick box of stovetop mac and cheese for them tonight. Their dad was supposed to be home hours ago, but Dean had learned quickly that John didn’t care about getting home on time, not when he could make a quick detour to the liquor store.

“Deanna!” Sam screams playfully, pulling on a fistful of Dean’s hair, “Deanna, I’m hungry!” The words sting, but Dean’s not really sure why, why he’s been so much angrier at Sam since he picked up the habit of mockingly calling him Deanna, using his full name rather than the cute ‘Dee’ he used to call him.

Ignoring it, Dean sets a bowlful of mac and cheese in front of his little brother, praying it will buy him time as he slips into the bathroom. The door clicks shut softly and Dean’s breathing picks up, heaving in lungful after lungful of air as he looks at himself in the mirror.

He’s got pigtails in his hair, little pink elastics holding the two clumps of hair on top of his head, the bottoms of the pigtails still brushing against his shoulders as he turns his head. His hair is blonde, just like his mom, but he looks in the mirror and he hates it, hates to see a juvenile reflection of his own mother staring back at him.

Walking away from the mirror, Dean sighs and sits down on top of the toilet lid, pretending for one minute that he’s not in some scummy motel room, but that he’s home, that he’s just brushing his teeth before his mom will come tuck him into bed. What would he do then?

His hands find the hem of the skirt he’s wearing, frayed from a year of constant wear. It was easier to have him in skirts all the time, Dean knew that, he was growing so fast that pants wouldn’t fit for more than a couple months. Dad was saving money with Dean, refusing to buy him a solid pair of jeans, but he bought Sam new pants every other month, so why was Dean any different?

Then Dean is tearing at the fabric, ripping a long slit in the skirt before finding another place along the hem and doing the same. This isn’t who he is, it never was, so why is his dad trying to make him something he’s not?

Back when his mom was still alive, when she’d tuck him in at night, she’d press a kiss to his forehead and tell him he was loved. She’d say, “I love you, Deanna. Sleep tight,” and close the door, nightlight flickering away in the corner. He hadn’t had an issue with his name then. He’d wake up in the morning and put on jeans and a t-shirt, run around the neighborhood, climb trees in the backyard. He’d come inside for a PB&J sandwich and his mom would press a kiss to his forehead, muttering softly, “My little tomboy,” before tending to Sam, whispering in turn to him, “My baby boy.” Why didn’t Dean ever get to be his mom’s baby boy?

Soon enough, Dean’s down on his hands and knees, frantically shuffling through the cabinet under the sink, hands digging through his father’s duffel bag. There had to be something there, anything Dean could use. His fingers brush against his dad’s electric shaving razor, grabbing at it as fast as he can.

Dean’s hair falls to the ground in clumps. First the ponytails, the little pink elastic still wrapped around the hair as it sits on the dirty tile floor, then little hairs as Dean runs the electric razor back and forth over his head. Looking in the mirror, a part of him hurts, the last bit of his mother lying on the floor with Dean’s hair, but something inside of him sings despite that hurt; he feels like he’s finally himself.

Sam’s still stuffing his face full of macaroni and cheese when Dean emerges from the bathroom, ignoring his brother to run to their shared room. His hands shuffle around under the bed before he grabs hold of Sam’s travel bag and pulls it into the light. He unzips it carefully, as if it holds some kind of treasure, because it does. Sam’s got two extra pair of jeans, and they’d be short and tight, but Dean could make them fit; he’d just have to steal some of his own sometime, maybe tomorrow if their dad still wasn’t back.

Dean feels like he can’t breathe in Sam’s little jeans, the bottom of them squeezing around his calf, but Sam says nothing as Dean walks back into the kitchen and takes a bowl of mac and cheese for himself. It’s not until they’re both finished with their dinner that Sam speaks at all, pushing his bowl towards Dean and smiling. “All done,” he says, barely taking a breath before adding, “Where’d your pigtails go?”

Swallowing thickly, Dean stands up, taking Sam’s bowl and ignoring the question. He didn’t know how to explain that he hated it, that every time his little brother pulled at his hair he wished he would pull it right off, and so he explains nothing.

“Deanna,” Sam giggles, his happiness contrasting Dean’s disgust, “Why’d you get rid of your pigtails?” God, the kid won’t just drop it, will he?

“Dean,” he snaps, all the anger leaving his body at once, “I’m Dean, Sammy, or at the very least, Dee. Not Deanna.”

The room instantly falls silent and Dean turns to look at Sam, worried he’s going to cry. Dean wasn’t supposed to snap at Sam like that, they both already got enough of it from their dad. Instead of tears, there’s curiosity welling in Sam’s eyes, his head tilted as he repeats it. “Dean,” he says, slowly at first, “Dean, why’d you get rid of your pigtails?”

That question again. Sam was fixated on it, clearly, because what was he supposed to pull on and play with now? The kid loved pulling Dean’s hair, and now that it was short, he wouldn’t be able to. “I didn’t like them,” is the best response Dean can come up with, the selfishness of it sinking into his bones. His brother liked his pigtails, and who was Dean to take that away from Sam?

Giggles snap Dean out of his own head, Sam beaming at Dean as he tries to climb the counter beside him. “Wanna feel your hair,” he explains, and then Dean’s bending down, letting Sam run his hands through Dean’s short cut, smiling as Sam drags his hand across it and laughs. “It’s pokey,” he explains, and Dean runs his own hand through his hair, letting a smile show on his face. “You’re pokey,” Sam adds, and Dean’s almost offended before Sam continues and says, “I like it.”

#not sure if this is good enough to put on ao3 #do we like?#should i write more?#should i make it a series of memories type oneshot?#help me decide.#srsly tell me what to do in rbs #maybe ill rb a poll to go with #dean winchester #sam winchester #trans dean winchester #spn #supernatural #trans #fanfic #fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #nick writes #ao3

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suspensefulpen · 2 months

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Head Trauma

TW: Blood, Death, Injuries, Amnesia

“—pee!”

Who’s calling me?

“Whumpee!”

Whumpee’s eyes fluttered open. The sound of metal clanking against itself faded into their ears, making them flinch. They glanced around before attempting to lift themself up. They saw two people dodging each other's attacks. They were armed with swords, swinging them at each other with no hesitation. They watched as one of the swords went through one of the fighters’ chests before they were pushed to the ground. Horror instantly rushed over Whumpee.

When the killer made eye contact with them, they immediately began backing away as quickly as they could. “Whumpee!”

They know my name?! Are they gonna kill me next?! Whumpee tried their best to force themself up and run. But the pain in their head wouldn’t allow them to get very far. Falling back to the ground, they tried their best to cease the discomfort and crawl away. They found they weren’t moving fast enough when a face appeared next to them.

“Whumpee, it’s okay. You don’t have to run anymore.”

Screaming, Whumpee attempted to shield themself from the murderer. “Please! Don’t hurt me! I don’t want to die, please!” Tears streamed down their face as they were given a look of pure hurt.

“Whumpee, it’s me, Leader. Are you alright? You’re bleeding terribly–”

“Help! Help me!” Whumpee cried as loud as they could.

Taken aback, Leader stepped away. “Whumpee, I’m not going to hurt you.”

“How do I know that?! Who are you?!”

The look of hurt was instantly replaced with a look of shock. Leader glanced around. Whumpee followed his gaze and spotted someone nearby. Their heart stopped when he called them over. They tried to run away again only to fall and make their pain worse.

“Whumpee! Whumpee, stop! You’re already hurt enough! Don’t make it worse!” Medic warned as he rushed over to the scene.

“How do you know my name?!”

He paused, the same shock washed over him that washed over Leader. Medic looked up at him, silently asking if he heard correctly. He turned back to Whumpee, cautiously coming closer. “I’m going to help you, okay? You’re hurt really badly and I don’t want you to get worse, alright? I’m Medic.”

Whumpee hesitated, looking between the two standing over them. They nodded, forcing their focus on Medic. “Okay…”

When Medic helped Whumpee up, they glanced over at Leader who was standing off to the side. “Who is he?”

“That’s Leader.”

“He’s coming with us?” Whumpee asked anxiously.

“Of course. He is our captain.”

“But he’s a murderer! He just killed someone!”

Medic glanced over his shoulder at the guilty look on Leader’s face. From that alone, they knew Whumpee’s recovery was probably going to be a long one.

#creative writing #writeblr #writer things #writers on tumblr #whump #whump writing #suspense #team whump #emotional whump #tw blood #amnesia #injured whumpee #injury #character death #should i write more?#maybe later #i'll think about it #author is sleep deprived

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i-politely-disagree · 20 hours

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Y'all I'm trying to write something but uh....I'm not sure how i feel so ima just put a bit on here

(modern au)

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.” Jack groaned, using the monotonous voice he reserved for scenarios when he knew it would be best not to express emotions “Really, Race? This guy?”

Race glared, tightening his arm around Spot’s shoulders.

“Yeah. Got a problem?” he challenged.

Kicking one of Race's stray clothes to clear a path, Jack laughed wryly and motioned to Spot.

“Um..I do…it’s Spot Conlon.” He was trying to keep his cool. To breathe. He knew how easily Race was influenced, He knew how easily Spot could influence. And he knew damn well Race knew who he was dealing with. So why? Why the guy who got suspensions basically weekly, the guy who every idiot in school looked up to simply cause he could land a punch and kick a ball?

Spot took the staring match between the siblings as his chance to leave, he pulled on his jacket and maneuvered his way out, extra careful not to disturb anything. As soon as the door shut Race spoke up

“Why do you give a shit who I’m dating?” he began to raise his voice “This is the happiest I have been in years. You are not messing this up for me”

“I give a shit because it’s him!”

Race’s blood boiled; Jack knew nothing. Nothing about Spot's past, the persona he felt he had to put on, and how he treated people he was close to. Feeling Jack's hand rest softly on his shoulder didn't help. Jack was not on his side.

“Look,” Jack spoke, taking a more gentle approach “I just don't want you getting hurt.”

!!THIS IS NOT COMPLETE!!

#sprace #my fic #newsies fanfiction #spot x race #newsies #racetrack higgins #spot conlon #fanfiction #not finished #should i write more?#jack kelly #race and jack are brothers #medda is their mom #modern au

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heartharps · 1 year

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spicy six ocean’s eleven au

nancy is ocean, obviously. she's the mastermind. we catch up with her as she's being released from prison at the end of a grand theft sentence. she meets a blackjack dealer in a local casino, who insists her name is maya even though nancy calls her robin.

"where is he?" nancy asks, referring to their longtime friend and partner in crime, steve.

robin explains he's in LA, teaching movie stars how to play cards. nancy is surprised they aren't still joined at the hip.

"i got a girl. i got busy. he threw a fit, flew to cali, and now he calls me every day just to tell me which celebrities are assholes."

it takes nancy no time at all to find him running a game in some flashy hollywood club. he isn't even surprised when he walks into the room and nancy is there, easily winning all the nepo babies' pocket change.

nancy and steve head to a bar, someplace quieter, almost empty at that hour. just seeing each other is all the catching up they need to do. they know each other too well. they've been in this business together for years. it's always the same story when they find each other.

“so tell me," he says.

"it's tricky," she answers. "never been done before. lots of planning, and a large crew. the take -"

"what's the target?" steve asks.

"the take is eight figures," nancy promises.

steve knows somethings up. "whats. the. target."

it's a vegas casino. it's crazy, the hardest con they've ever tried—but nancy has a solid plan, and talk about a jackpot.

steve still thinks she's hiding something. he keeps pressing her for the reason why. why so complicated? why this? why now? she plays it off, pacifies him with vague talk of opportunity and honor.

steve is itching for a real job again. and he's followed nancy into worse, hasn't he? and talk about a jackpot!

so they get to work.

they need a crew. they figure it out while robin moves to vegas, claiming her girlfriend loves the heat.

jonathan will handle electronics. argyle is still the best driver around.

"what about munitions?" steve asks. their go-to guy retired after losing a couple fingers.

"we're set," nancy says. "i found someone new."

steve is reluctant, not wanting some trigger-happy hotshot stepping all over their job.

"don't worry. you'll like him."

she hires eddie. (steve does like him, eventually.)

nancy thinks they need one more, so steve goes to indianapolis to pick an up-and-comer recommended to them by an old mentor. (dustin gets linus' intro. he's surprised steve offers him the job so quickly. "claudia has faith in you," steve says. "well, mothers are like that.")

they all convene in vegas. nancy is shocked when robin shows up with a bouncy 5-foot-nothing blonde on her arm, introducing her as chrissy.

nancy pulls robin aside to say what the fuck? you can't bring a plus one to the secret crime meeting!

"we need a grease man," robin says. "chrissy is SUPER flexible!" and she’s maybe a little too excited about it.

nancy rolls her eyes but agrees. they do need a grease man. grease woman? someone tiny to sneak around and hide in tight corners. apparently chrissy had joined a local circus troupe, so she was plenty qualified.

they debrief the job. they're knocking over tommy hagan's casino. none of them have met him before; he's just a wildly successful casino owner.

there is a reason why nancy picked his casino, but she lies and says it was random.

steve figures it out a week later.

dustin's job was to follow hagan and learn his schedule. (the kid didn't like the low-stakes work, but stopped complaining when steve threatened to send him back to indiana.)

dustin reports to steve, walking him through hagan's daily routine. it ends like this: "and then comes the girlfriend."

they both watch as a gorgeous woman with bright red hair struts across the casino floor.

"this is the best part of my day," dustin says, stars in his eyes. "i'm not sure if we can use her yet. i haven't even caught her name."

steve sighs. "barb," he says. "her name is barb."

steve confronts nancy. "tell me this is not about her, or I walk off the job."

"who?" she plays dumb.

"barb! tell me this isn't about screwing the guy who's screwing your wife!"

"it's not about that!"

"seriously? im not stupid, nance!"

"...it's not entirely about that." she's honest and somber now, speaking with a dark look in her eyes. "remember when we got into this business? we said we'd play like we had—"

"we had nothing to lose," steve finished.

"well, i lost something. i lost someone."

it hit steve then, hard like a smack in the face. he knew it had been tough for nancy, when barb found out about her career and left her. but he thought it wasn't that bad, that she was getting over it. he never realized how hurt she was.

so now, as nancy said, "that’s why i'm here."

steve knew he had to stand behind her.

#sorry that there's hardly any eddie #he and steve are doing all kinds of shenanigans and falling in love while they prep for the heist :)#should i write more?#stranger things #stranger things fic #spicy six #fruity four #steddie fic #steddie #buckingham #steddie fanfiction #nancy wheeler #steve harrington

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innerslumber · 7 months

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Meet Me At The Pool

Rating: Mature

Square: G4 "AU: Lifeguard". @allcapsbingo

Bucky heard the footsteps a moment before the shower curtain rustled behind him. Even without turning around, he knew exactly who was entering his stall.

It was only a few weeks since summer began and Bucky started volunteering at the large public pool in his neighborhood. He figured it would be good way to spend the time before the fall term kicked in. He had also hoped to see a few eye candies along the way and didn't even try to hide his intentions. After all, he was a young man in his early 20s and felt no shame in advertising his willingness to find an eager partner.

Enter one Steve Rogers, a fellow lifeguard and literally the most beautiful man that Bucky had ever seen.

They had danced around each other a bit. The smiles had been shy at first but then with each time their eyes met, the gestures became bolder. A random touch here. A teasing caress there. On and on it had gone for weeks and Bucky thought he was going to burst from the anticipation.

Bucky knew that today their schedules would match perfectly. But more importantly, he knew that they would be the last ones around to close up the facility. He had left a discrete note by Steve's locker, offering what he hoped was mutually beneficial.

Turning around in the shower, Bucky could see the little smirk that was on Steve's handsome face. Not even the steam from the hot water could obscure the hungry look as Steve raked his eyes up and down Bucky's naked body.

Leaning back against the tiled wall, Bucky stretched his arms up to better display himself.

"See something you like?"

Steve licked his lips before meeting Bucky's gaze. "The best thing I've seen in my life."

Bucky hooked his index finger into Steve's swim shorts and pulled him closer. "Are you planning to just look?"

Their bodies met and Steve undulated his hips, grinding his hard cock against Bucky. They both groaned loudly, their voices echoing through the empty locker room. Steve quickly removed his swimsuit and plastered himself against the other man as Bucky gasped in pleasure.

Steve nuzzled Bucky's ear and gently bit his earlobe before chuckling, his voice low and rough with desire.

"Oh sweetheart, I'm going to do so much more than look."

#stucky #steve rogers #bucky barnes #allcapsbingo2023 #AU lifeguard #Steve and Bucky are in the shower but they plan to be filthy #Should I write more?#moodboard #ficlet

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epictacobird · 2 years

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https://thumbs.gfycat.com/BoldDimIbis-size_restricted.gif

Imagine recreating this with Azul tho like-

Maybe Floyd walks over to you with a proposition and shows you this. He hands you a fake cigarette and dares you to recreate the scene with your unsuspecting boyfriend Azul.

You were enticed with the idea of getting out of a few of your tasks at the Mostro Lounge (and flustering your favorite merfolk) so you take the fake cigarette from his hands; and return Floyd’s mischievous grin as you saunter over to the business man.

Azul’s body visibly relaxes at seeing you, his eyes widen in adoration for a moment. He pushes up his glasses and opens his mouth to greet you, but he can’t find any words as you take the lit cigarette and put it firmly between your lips with a sultry smile that excited Azul far more than he would admit.

You reach up and caress his face, which turned redder and redder as your thumb ghosted over his surprisingly soft lips.

Your other hand tangles in his right, and once again Azul opens his mouth only to be at a loss for words. Instead a stutter of incomprehensible starts and ends of sentences comes out as a mutter.

It was no doubt odd for any other person to see the composed and benevolent student become nothing more than putty in your hands, except for you of course.

And so as the music reaches its climax you bring your hands in between your chests as you dip him down. He gives an undignified yelp as he tries desperately to hide his embarrassment in your chest. You laugh inwardly at his reaction as you see the tips of his ears go red.

With careful skill you flip the cigarette inside your mouth, carefully positioning it so you won’t burn your tongue. And as you reach down to kiss Azul, you can hear wolf whistles and cheers from the customers around you.

You flip the cigarette once again to it’s former position and blow the smoke gently away on his lips. You smile in triumph as you carefully lift him back up, giving him a playful wink as you leave the flustered Azul in the corner of the Lounge. There was still cheers and playful laughter as you walk away toward Floyd with a shit-eating grin.

You’re gonna be the death of Azul but it entertains the eels to no end.

Please this has been in my head for days I needed to write it down lmao

#i haven’t written in so long #should I write more?#twisted wonderland #azul ashengrotto x reader #Azul brain rot #twst x mc #azul ashengrotto x y/n #twst wonderland #azul ashengrotto #floyd leech

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julesart04 · 6 months

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The Hogwarts Express (Regulus)

Regulus gazed in wonder. The Hogwarts Express. It was a beautiful scarlet steam engine stretching so far down the platform that he couldn’t quite see the end even when squinting and craning his neck. The cool September air carried the scent of coal and the distant promise of adventure. He clutched the handle of his trunk, his small fingers tracing the elaborate initials engraved on the polished surface – R.A.B. A hand gripped the back of his immaculate robes jerking him back with a gasp.

“Stand up straight” his mother hissed into his ear. He felt colour staining his cheeks and silently prayed that nobody had seen. Walburga Black, stood regally beside him, her sharp features framed by immaculate dark curls. She wore an expression of stoic pride, her eyes surveying the platform with the disdainful air that marked her as a pureblood of the noble House of Black. Sirius, Regulus's older brother, lingered nearby, clearly desperate to escape onto the train.

The platform was a cacophony of sounds, filled with the hoots of owls and the murmur of voices. Families moved about, hugging their children and exchanging words of encouragement. Regulus looked up at Sirius, who seemed nonchalant but betrayed a flicker of excitement in his stormy grey eyes. He had admired Sirius his entire life, despite the subtle disapproval that sometimes crept into their mother's gaze when she looked at the elder Black son.

Walburga regarded both her sons with an imperious gaze. "Remember who you are. Act accordingly. Your father and I expect nothing less."

Sirius rolled his eyes, but Regulus stood straighter, absorbing the weight of his mother's words. It was a mantra they had heard countless times, a reminder of the expectations that came with their family name.

The distant whistle of the Hogwarts Express echoed through the station, signalling the imminent departure. Students began to board the train, laughter and chatter filling the air. Sirius surged forward like a greyhound hearing the starting pistol. Regulus hurried after with a pang of panic. What would he do on his own?! The scarlet steam engine loomed ahead, billowing white clouds of steam. Regulus hesitated for a moment before stepping onto the train, glancing back at the platform. His mother's gaze followed him, a mix of cool indifference and something more complex lingering in her slate eyes. He wouldn’t let her down.

“Are you coming?” Regulus turned to see Sirius peering round the door to a compartment halfway down the carriage. His face was bright and clear as though the storm clouds had passed and now, as summer ended, the sun returned. A second face bobbed into view beside Sirius’. Large circular glasses and riotous black curls grinned at him with what could only be described as a warm mania. He nodded dumbly and managed to move toward them. They ducked back inside and Regulus took a few steadying breaths before reaching the compartment.

Regulus entered the compartment to find Sirius deep in conversation with three other boys, their laughter filling the air. The atmosphere was charged with a camaraderie that, to Regulus, felt like a wedge being driven between his ribs. An unfamiliar pang of anxiety and resentment settled in his chest.

"Reg!" Sirius greeted him with a grin, motioning for him to take a seat beside him. "Meet James and Peter and Remus. James, this is my little brother, Regulus."

James extended a friendly hand, "Nice to meet you, Regulus."

Regulus reluctantly shook James' hand, a curt nod being his only acknowledgement. He cast a sidelong glance at Sirius, who seemed entirely at ease with his companions.

"So, excited about Hogwarts?" James asked, his tone friendly and inclusive. It set Regulus’ teeth on edge. He gave a noncommittal shrug, avoiding eye contact. He felt a growing unease as the conversation continued. An invisible barrier was forming between him and Sirius. His brother, usually attentive, was engrossed in conversation and laughter with James, Remus, and Peter.

Ignored, Regulus became increasingly sullen. He watched, his jaw clenched, as Sirius and James bartered anecdotes and jokes. Clearly, he wasn’t welcome in Sirius’ happiness. Finally, unable to contain his feelings any longer, Regulus snapped,

"Why are you being like this? You've never been like this before!"

Sirius looked taken aback, and the compartment fell into an uncomfortable silence. James exchanged a glance with Remus, sensing the tension.

"I'm just talking to my friends, Reg," Sirius replied cautiously, his brow furrowed.

"Well… Fine!," Regulus retorted, his voice laced with bitterness. He slouched in his seat, glaring resentfully at James. A few beats and he stood, grabbed his bag, and stalked out of the silent carriage. Blindly, he stalked down the passage, ignoring the acid burning at the corner of his eyes. It was fine. He had survived all of last year without Sirius hadn’t he? It will be fine, it will be fine. The train groaned and rocked into life causing him to sway dangerously off balance. As the train pulled out of the station, Regulus found an empty compartment and settled in. The rhythmic clatter of wheels on tracks provided a comforting background noise, leaving the platform and his childhood behind. Thank Merlin for that.

#I dont know what happened #i wrote a thing #poor reggie #regulus black #all the young dudes #marauders #harry potter #regulus deserved better #should i write more?#of this #writing is so much harder than drawing #hope you like it #sirius black #please let me know what you think #pretty please #feedback much appreciated #marauders era #jegulus

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sky-neverending · 1 year

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i wrote this little bit for a discord prompt and figured I would share it here after adding a few more paragraphs (there was a word limit on the prompt but i wanted to add a little bit more to post it here bc i felt like smth was missing) (also, thinking about extending this a bit into a proper oneshot. what do you think? it’s shorter rn bc of the prompt)

the prompt: Write 350 words max that begin and and with the same sentence

“I love you.” Steve repeated to himself in his bathroom mirror, hands wrapped around the collar of his shirt. “I love you.”

It was a simple sentence, really. Three words, all lined up in a row just waiting to spill out his mouth and lift a heavy weight off his shoulders. Three little words that danced on the tip of his tongue and taunted him every second his mind was free. Three tiny little words that just wouldn’t leave his throat.

It wasn’t that he couldn’t say it. He said it all the time. To Robin, on the grimy bathroom floors of Family Video, in passing through the halls of Steve’s empty house, on his mattress in the middle of the night while taking swigs from half filled bottles of wine that Steve’s parents told him not to touch. To Dustin as he left Steve’s car after school every day, or as he tried to duck away from Steve ruffling his hair every chance he got.

But when it came to Eddie, something stopped him. Eddie, with his long messy curls and his wild grin and his big brown doe eyes that Steve fell into more and more every second. Eddie, with his dramatic movements and his loud music and his gentle kisses and the way Steve fit perfectly in his arms. Eddie, in all his glory. Eddie, who Steve was hopelessly and madly and utterly in love with.

Maybe it was because Steve was scared. Scared that if he said those little words Eddie would leave, call him bullshit and tell him everything was fake. Leave him broken and bruised on the floor, hanging on by a thread. That he would lose everything all over again once the statement left his mouth. That it would all come tumbling down around him.

His door burst open suddenly, tearing him from his thoughts, and he turned toward it, expecting Robin to be standing there with annoyance plastered across her face. But instead, it was Eddie, bent over in baited breath, cheeks flushed a bright cherry red.

“Steve.” He blurted out, pulling himself upward and taking a long breath in as the two made eye contact. “Fuck, okay.”

“Eddie?-” Steve started, but he was cut off by a short string of words that spilled out into the air faster than he could register.

“I love you.” Eddie said, biting his lip nervously. “Holy shit, Steve. I love you.”

#sky writes #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #should i write more?#i think i should #i probably will #love confessions #we slay we slay #there is not intended Nancy slander in this I love her #but i need the bullshit line for plot #ok thanks

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seinsiao3 · 14 days

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Drarry: Gamer / Streamer Au, Modern Au, Non-magic Au

Sort of like: 'The Guild Member Next Door' / 'Netkama Punch' [webtoon / novel] in terms of game element but not the plot hahhahaha

Draco is a popular streamer in the massively multiplayer online role-playing game Hogwarts, where players can assume any magical role they desire. His character, SlyPrince, is renowned as a skilled enchanter, primarily functioning as a supporter but still possessing offensive abilities for combat. During one of the game's highly anticipated events, Draco's guild, the "Slytherins," engaged in fierce competition against other guilds to secure top player rankings. However, Draco found himself embroiled in a scandal when he engaged in a Player vs. Player duel in the Triwizard Tournament against "TheChosenOne," a prominent streamer and the third-ranked player in the Gryffindor Guild. The duel took an unexpected turn when glitches affected "TheChosenOne's" character, leading to Draco's victory.

He was accused of cheating and using hacks simply because he was part of the guild "Slytherin". The guild "Slytherin", one of the major guilds in the game, managed by the now-banned player known as "FlightOfDeath", was caught cheating and using hacks during one of the game's main events, along with his guildmates. Now, this guild is under scrutiny for being associated with cheaters and hackers. Although some of his guildmates who were kicked out were caught, it's important to note that their guild wasn't the only one involved. However, due to their guild's popularity, they have become the main focus of attention.

Due to popular demand and the influence of cancel culture, his friends believed that he should sit out the upcoming event, the 'Wizarding War' determines the ranking of players and guilds. Since he couldn't play with them, his friends suggested that he use his previous account, 'Serpent'. It had been years since he last played this character, and he was one of the first players when the game wasn't as popular as it is now.

He wasn't streaming at that time when he logged in with his other account. He considered having this character try to join Slytherin. This player wasn't on a good level yet, but before he could continue trying to level up his character, 'TheChosenOne' suddenly showed up in the same area. He seemed to be in a weird mood, as his character kept circling Draco's character. Instead of 'whispering', he shouted at him using the 'world chat'. He continued chatting nonsense, keyboard smashing, and calling out to him.

At that moment, Harry was streaming, he's one of those faceless streamers who only show their keyboards and mouse. Harry isn't really the type to curse on his stream, it's very child-friendly since his audience consists mainly of middle schoolers. He usually saves the cursing for after the stream. So, when he let out a string of curses after his character teleported during a mission stream (forbidden forest Quest) and saw how some of his skills, which were always greyed out, suddenly gained color, it was quite unexpected. Those skills are only active when his gaming partner is logged in and in the same area as him.

The partner he had years ago, when he was still not a streamer or a popular ranker of the game, is the same partner he still has, despite its absence for years. He could easily terminate this partnership feature, but he didn't. He even kept the couple skills on his roster, even though he could always replace them with more useful skills. He also had automatic teleportation to the area where his partner would be, always on, always waiting for the day that his partner would come back to the game.

After 6 years of absence, the mysterious partner of TheChosenOne suddenly appears online during a stream. Viewers, who had never seen the other player in over a hundred streams, theorize about who the absent partner, whom TheChosenOne rarely talks about, might be. Harry's stream chats suddenly became a blur of words, the panicking mods trying to handle the chaos of this discovery, and his 'party' chatting him up on what was happening. Harry grabbed his keyboard and mouse to run around the area, searching for his partner, and there he is.

Draco notices something strange on his screen. His game character shares the same class as his main one, but this character possesses skills that aren't typical for his class and level. These abilities are exclusive to partnered game characters, those who have chosen to become engaged and married to another player. It turns out Draco's previous character is married to 'TheChosenOne'.

Harry thought as he kept typing on the world chat instead of addressing the player directly using the whisper feature that the reason why he continues playing the game—the one he believes will come back—is here now. And he will make sure not to let the 'Serpent' escape again.

........................................................................................

Should I write this? Hahahhaha

#new fic idea #fic ideas #drarry fanfic #fanfic ideas #my fic #drarry #Gamer au #streamer au #should i write this?#should i write a fic?#should i write more?#press f to pay respect #pftpr

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serpentdragon777 · 6 months

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I’m gonna start this one out with the fact that I’m a twin. Today I remembered that the travelers are twins. And then I thought. Hmm. What would happen if I was separated from my twin. How would I feel. so yeah this is my first ever fanfic and stuff, so it’s probably REALLY bad and cringe and stuff, but hey, I had an idea and I wanted to use it!!

also hen. If you are seeing this, no you don’t.

(I guess you could call this a character study or something but idk)

When Aether realizes his sister is gone, everything feels weird. Suddenly he’s all alone, which is funny because he’s not actually alone, but it sure as hell feels that way. Suddenly he doesn’t know what to do, when the one constant thing in his life, despite his travels from world to world, is gone. It’s terrifying how much Lumine’s absence has affected him. He sometimes sees something funny and is about to point it out to her but she just isn’t there. “What’re you thinking about?” His floating companion looks at him with a worried expression. Hm. He must have been zoning out again. “It’s nothing, Paimon.” Maybe he’ll talk about it later. Whatever, it’s not important now.

#Genshin impact #fanfiction #fanfic #my first fanfic #serpent’s stories #Serpent’s stories #Aether genshin impact #Im kinda nervous writing a fanfic for the first time but i tried my best!#Should I write more?

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outerbanksoftargtower · 1 year

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Debating if I should write a second part to my one imagine or if I should write a beauty and the beast style aemond/ reader with some obvious differences .

#ewan Mitchell #Aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #my gif #should I write more?#idk #I have ideas but……

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evidently-endless · 10 days

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i think we should remind musicians they can absolutely make up little stories for their songs btw. it doesn’t have to be about them at all. you can invent a guy and put him in situations to music. time honoured tradition in fact.

#i love reading your examples! however next person to be like um actually this exists?? it’s on sight #i know it exists. i think it’s fun. that’s why i think more people should do it.#sometimes i think the confessional style loses impact because everything has to be excavated from the depths of the soul #and somehow. confessional writing seems to be going with the most disaffected bland sound possible. odd.#i love deeply personal songs! i love when songs sound like they mean something to the artist!#something something wider issue of mining trauma and being performatively vulnerable for quote unquote content #idk i don’t have the actual knowledge to write about this well there’s just something not landing for me recently #mine

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ribbittrobbit · 2 months

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these kids are incredibly stressed out

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hailsatanacab · 5 months

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Family Dinners - dpxdc

"Holy shit, you're Bruce Wayne!" Danny gaped, jabbing a finger at the man sitting at the head of the table.

The bustling dining room goes silent as everyone turns to look at him.

"Danny, who did you think was going to be here?" Tim asks, disbelief plain in his voice and Danny feels his face flush red.

"Sorry, I, uh, I guess I just never put it together. Tim Drake-Wayne. Wayne Manor. It, uh, makes sense now." He laughs sheepishly and scrubs at his neck before slumping back down into his chair.

"Well," Tim says with an indulgent sigh, "at least I know you're not just friends with me for my connections."

"Yeah, I'm really sorry, I just never thought about it, I guess."

Danny sinks lower as everyone around him laughs. Come to dinner, he said, the food is the best, he said, ignore the family, he said. Danny really wishes he'd listened to Tim and just ignored them—almost as much as he's regretting accepting the offer in the first place—but... he's having dinner with Batman.

Ancients, that's so weird!

The last time he saw Batman was in the future and, suffice it to say, it was not going well. There hadn't really been time for family dinners there.

Wait. Family dinners?

He peers around the table, openly gawking at everyone as it all clicks into place.

"Everything alright, Danny? Now realising who everyone else is?" Tim asks with a roll of his eyes.

"Uh... something like that..." Danny mumbles as everyone laughs again.

From further down the table, the smallest Wayne scoffs and clicks his tongue.

"I thought you said he was smart, Drake?"

"So, you all do it, too, then?" he asks, ignoring the jibe. Danny's only a little bit jealous as he thinks of how much easier they must have it, how much easier it'd be if his family had been on his side, too. "You all work together?"

"Nah," Dick says from across the table with a brilliant grin. "Tim's the only one that works with Bruce, we all have different jobs. I'm a police officer in Bludhaven."

"Disgusting." Danny blurts out without thinking—because seriously, what kind of self-respecting vigilante would also be a police officer?—before clapping a hand over his mouth. "Sorry."

The whole table laughs again, the loudest being the blonde girl a few spaces down from Dick. Look, Danny wasn't really paying attention to names when they were all paraded in front of him. Dick only gets remembered because his name is a joke.

Come on, Danny, recover!

"That's, uh, not what I meant, though."

"Oh?" Dick asks, cocking his head slightly to the side. Is it Danny's imagination or does his smile tense slightly?

"Yeah, I mean like, you know, in costume. It must make it so much easier to have everyone together like this."

"Costume? What do you mean?"

Yeah, Danny's not imagining it, everyone tenses up at that. It's really only now that he's realising that this probably isn't how he should bring up that he knows about their... night time activities. In fact, he probably shouldn't be bringing it up at all.

"Uuhhh..." Danny looks wildly around the table as he continues making his stupid noise. Think, think, think! There must be a way out of this!

"Danny?" Tim asks, looking concerned.

"Oh, Ancients, this isn't how I wanted it to go at all," he mutters, slipping even further into his chair. He's almost on the floor now and he so, so wishes it could just swallow him up.

His real first meeting with Batman was meant to be cool! He had planned to be Phantom, maybe save them from a tight spot, prove his worth as a mysterious and powerful ally as thanks for the help Batman gave him in the future.

"Danny, what are you talking about?" Tim starts tugging on his sleeve in an attempt to pull him back up from his pit of despair.

Eventually, Danny relents and sits up straighter, hiding his face in his hands and whining all the while.

"I'm sorry, I just didn't expect him to be here and it threw me off so now I look stupid and it's so embarrassing!" he wails, flailing his arms wide. "Why wouldn't you warn me that Batman was your adopted dad, Tim? Couldn't you have let me know?"

"I'm sorry, what? Danny are you alright? There's no way Bruce can be Batman, look at him!"

"Yeah," the blonde girl laughs from the bottom of the table, "look at him! That's a wet noodle of a man! Batman can actually do things, B is incapable of pretty much everything."

"Thank you, Stephanie," Bruce sighs, massaging his forehead.

It's... Those are the first words Danny's heard Batman say since everything went down and it's enough to knock him out of his embarrassment.

It's really good to hear his voice again. Especially now, when it's strong and healthy and full of personality—even if that personality is little more than a tired father right now—far better than how it had been, at the end.

Danny sits up, back straight, and grins. He's got this. He remembers it perfectly. Some people count sheep to fall asleep, Danny repeats his mantra to be certain that he'll never forget it.

"Gamma alpha upsilon tau iota mu epsilon, 42, 63, 28, 1 colon 65 dash 9."

Once again, the whole table falls into silence.

"Holy shit..." breathes the other D name (Duke? Danny's pretty sure he's Signal) from opposite Stephanie. "Isn't that...?"

"The time travelling code." The littlest Wayne says stiffly. "We have met in the future?"

"That's not just the time travelling code, Dami." Dick says, looking between Danny and Bruce. "That's the family time travelling code."

Danny's grin freezes in place.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"1 colon 65 dash 9." Dick explains, still flicking between him and Bruce. "It means you've been adopted into the family and we should all treat you as such, no questions asked."

"Tell you what, I'm about to ask a question." Danny says, dumbstruck. "You just told me it was a code to identify time travellers, not anything about being adopted! What the hell, B?"

Bruce looks about as shellshocked as Danny feels.

"We must have been close," he says finally, after opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water a few times.

"No! Not that close!" Danny reels back, taking a deep breath ready to refute it all, but... "Well, I mean, you found me when I first got stuck, and you helped me get better despite being... And then we fought together against the, uh, bad guy, before he, um, he... before you couldn't."

An uncomfortable beat passes while they all pick up on what Danny tried so hard not to say.

"So, you're not from the future, then, you travelled there and came back?" Tim asks, breaking the tension and leaning forward with a glint in his eye.

"Yeah, it was a whole end of the world thing, but don't worry about it," Danny says with a hand wave, "It's all kosher now, won't ever happen."

"What did happen?"

"Seriously, don't worry about it, we cool."

"How long in the future was it?"

"About ten years? You were pretty spry for an old man, B," Danny laughs, wishing they'd get off the topic of what happened and get back to the adoption bit.

Everyone shares degrees of a cautious smile as they relax out of the shock, and Dick—whose grin is the biggest—says, "No wonder you got the family code, you're already riffing on him like one of us. How long were you there for?"

"A week, before I managed to get back to my present and stop him then."

"A week? Jeez, B, that has to set some kind of record, seriously."

"Oh!" Danny says, sitting bolt upright and blinking in surprise before pointing at Dick and bouncing in his seat. "You're Nightwing!"

"What?"

"That's exactly what Nightwing said when Batman told me the code! Makes so much more sense now."

Dick laughs and claps his hands, delighted.

"You were not formally adopted?" The grumpy small one—Dami?—asks, his face pinched.

"I didn't even know I was informally adopted."

"And your parents? Are they alive or dead?"

"Damian, stop—"

"They were dead in the future, but they're alive now." Danny says, looking down. He fiddles with the tablecloth, twisting the fabric around his fingers as he fights down the pang of sadness that he always feels when he thinks of them now. He forces a bright smile on his face and hopes it doesn’t look too strained. "I just, uh, can't talk to them much, anymore."

"Damian," Dick warns, "1 colon 65 dash 9. Treat them as family, no questions asked."

"This is Damian treating him as family, the little turd has no manners." Tim scoffs, rolling his eyes, but he gently bumps shoulders with Danny to knock him out of his funk. Danny can't help but send him a watery smile.

"I have the most exemplary manners, Drake, unlike some people." Damian spits, crossing his arms with a pout. "I was merely ascertaining his status to see how he could possibly fit into the family."

"I know this is all a bit sudden, Danny," Bruce smiles, ignoring Damian and reaching out to lay a warm hand on his arm, "for all of us. But if I felt strongly enough to give you that code after spending a week with you in the future, then you are more than welcome in this family, if you so choose it. I think I can speak for all of us when I say we'd like to get to know you a bit more."

"I know a threat when I hear it, Bruce." Danny snorts. "But, yeah, I get it. I'm sorry this is all so weird, it really wasn't how I wanted to find you again, but... I'm glad I did."

"So are we, Danny." Dick says, with a warm smile. "And formally or not, 1 colon 65 dash 9 means you're family. Welcome to the fun house! No take backs or refunds, sorry. You're stuck with us."

#dpxdc #dcxdp #dc x dp #dp x dc crossover #batpham #hailsatanacrab🦀🦀writes #look. this has been in my mind for so long guys so long - and idk if its canon that the batfam have codes for time travel situations or what #but i feel like ive seen it before and if its not canon it should be #so here - how i think that would be funny to go down #i have so many thoughts about TUE and its place in a dpxdc crossover like holy shit there's so many ways it can go!!#i have another wip in the works thats kinda similar to this but with superman and i cannot wait to work on it again #there are so many ways i wanted this to go but i just couldnt get there - i wanted to keep it on the shorter side but like #perhaps ill have to expand #i just love the idea that like. theres a stranger at your table who knows you and knows you well. who knows the secret that youd die to keep #there's a stranger at your table and he says something and you know he's family. you know you're strangers but now...#now you have to be something more #oh man theres so many juicy ways it can go and I KNOW I DID NONE OF THEM #i want to write this whole plot again and make it angstier #(me with everything)#anyway! sorry love you all hope you enjoy it!!

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