seen from United States
seen from Tajikistan
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Hong Kong SAR China
seen from Hong Kong SAR China
seen from Italy
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from South Korea
seen from Russia
seen from T1
seen from T1
seen from T1
seen from Maldives
seen from United States
outside looking in
Q has eyes and a working brain, and he’s known about both of their feelings for awhile now. But he also knows that there isn’t anything going on between them. At least, nothing that they’ve told him about. For the sake of their friendship he’s been ignoring it. The problem is that it’s becoming increasingly hard to ignore when they’re so very like that in front of him. or: Kitty and Minho through the eyes of their friends.
so maybe I did start on that outsider pov mooncovey fic I mentioned... incredibly self indulgent things are happening in the ellipsus docs rn
a/n || i wrote this when s4 came out, it’s been in the drafts, i may write a part 2, but it’s angsty and i’m all about it.
͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙
Robin Buckley has been your best friend since you were 7. She was 6.
In first grade, Robin started walking with you on the way home after classes. She swore it was too scary to do by yourself. She would make sure both of you stayed safe, no matter what.
In third grade, Robin would ask you to sleep over every weekend. She always made sure her dad picked up the best snacks from the grocery store, somehow always remembering your favorite.
In sixth grade, Robin would play her dads cassettes for you. She would point out which songs reminded her of you, and why.
In the ninth grade, Robin started telling you she loved you at the end of a conversation. She hadn't forgotten to since she had started. You said it back, never missing the chance to remind her.
Going into tenth grade was hard, Robin had told you over the summer she couldn't hang out with you anymore. It was in your backyard, somewhere between the early morning hours. She was blunt about it, telling you she just wanted space. She didn't tell you how bad you were, or how you had hurt her, she just gave you a little wave and took to the sidewalk.
Tenth grade had gotten easier though, you had separated yourself from her almost entirely. Robin was her own person and so were you. You had even made a new friend.
Well, kind of. Eddie wasn't supposed to be your friend.
You were just helping him with English, and then you and then you started hanging out with him after class. Which had eventually spiraled into spending most days after school in his trailer.
He taught you everything about his guitar, and he let you sit in during hellfire. He had even asked if you wanted to join, and after you had declined the offer he had of course acted broken-hearted. 'You've wounded me!' What ever will I do without you y/n?'
Eddie had taught you more than that though, he had taught you that being yourself was what mattered at the end of the day. Eddie was the first person you ever told, and he sat there and listened. He really listened, not that fake bullshit you were expecting, he wanted you to trust him with your story.
So you told it, down to every last detail. You kept her for last though, savoring the way Eddie's eyes shot open at mention of her name.
"Robin Buckley?"
*Yeah," you laughed it off, "she was the world to me,
"Why?” he paused,
"why don't you guys- uh?" He motioned his hands, unable to find the words.
"I think she knew, 'ya know?" A bittersweet smile finding its way to your lips, "She wasn't- you know? Into me like that."
Eddie nodded, "Steve Harrington.”
"Huh?"
"He was mine,"
best friends + forever || s.h. & r.b.
cw // a/b/o, omega!steve, first heat, light embarrassment, platonic relationships only, there’s zero romance in this, just best friends being best friends, drug abuse, self harm, probably not very canon at all actually
a/n || this is a prequel to the a/b/o steddie fic, i just really wanted to love on robbie and stevie and they’re friendship
thinking about steve, steve in his early teens yearning for intimacy and begging someone to listen to him. because he feels left out. but not physically, just mentally.
steve who presents as a junior in highschool in the middle of class, in the second floor bathroom. alone, confused. and he is so embarrassed he doesn’t show up for the rest of the week. he blames a stomach bug, but the story will constantly evolve into a deeper lie until it evaporates and no longer matters.
steve who uses scent blockers and heat suppressants incorrectly. steve who buys them in back alleys and quiet corners out of town, so no one could ever know. steve who only dates betas, because ‘he’s a beta’. and that's perfect. that’s perfectly fine, and completely normal.
steve, who’s a senior, meeting his best friend. his best friend who he doesn’t even know yet. but she’s soft, and gentle. and he had never felt that kindness, at least not from someone who wasn’t forced to give it. and steve who is grateful for robin, because he may not tell her his secrets yet but she stays and comforts him regardless.
robin, who protects steve. even if she doesn't know why. robin who prides herself in not looking too far into steve’s past because she wasn’t a part of who he was, she’s just glad to be a part of who he is and will be.
and then it happens, the part where robin doesn’t have to dig. she doesn’t have to ask, not when steve is hiding in the employee bathroom for thirty minutes, and certainly not when she and every other alpha across the newly crafted mall could smell how sweet he smelled.
and robin, with her soft eyes and sweet smile, had to become a force. she closed the ice cream shop as fast as she possibly could, ordering everyone out. telling them there was a sudden emergency in the back, that a machine had malfunctioned, going as far as to say she was having the problem. even though deep down she knew she couldn’t pull that off.
she hurried to the bathroom, and she felt horrified for him. in his fevered, whimpering state. but even more so, horrified by the look on his face. because best friend or not steve knew robin was an alpha, steve had heard all the horrible tales, all the things alphas would do to omegas. and in the end he would lose every time, because he would be completely out of his mind.
“steve,” she spoke so softly, in control, “I’m not going to hurt you, okay?”
a soft whimper, a plea.
“steve, i would never do that to you, okay?” she was trying to comfort him, help him. “tell me what you need,”
he could see the control she had, he could see that she wasn’t going to hurt him. but what about after he spoke, what if he said something he didn’t mean, and what if she took advantage of that. and he didn’t know how any of this worked, he hadn’t even really had a first heat. he had a pre-heat and that was only a minor scratch in the surface. because what he felt now was overload. the embarrassment and hate he felt couldn’t even come up to his thoughts, because all he felt now was need. he couldn’t register the fear he had, he felt like he couldn’t breathe without begging for air.
and then robin bolted, running to find his bag. it was close, she was only gone for a moment but to him it felt like ages. it felt like being younger, being expected to present as an alpha. being pitied by his parents after they had found out. being an afterthought to them when he wasn’t in their direct sight. it felt like being lonely, it felt like he was being left out.
and robin, she stayed at least a foot away, dumping all of steve’s belongings on to the tiled floor. napkins and notes. a tin of mints clanged harshly, causing him to flinch and cry out. he still refused to speak, refused to look at her at all really.
but robin was busy now, she knew that unless this was steve presenting, which was incredibly unlikely, he had something on him. something to alleviate this at least to a bearable, dull pain. rummaging until she found a small bottle, a bottle meant for aspirin.
she held it up, a silent prayer. and he managed to nod.
she watched as he had taken the contents, looked at the pills he counted out. she said nothing as he swallowed them dry. said nothing about how he took more than he would have been prescribed. because maybe she was wrong, robin wasn’t going out and asking omegas their private business. and up until now robin wasn’t in the game of knowing an omega that personally to ask.
and then, they sat. robin silently, watching over her dearest friend. steve not so, still a mess. he had started blubbering, saying nonsensical things that robin knew he didn’t mean. his consciousness fading in and out.
they sat there well past the mall's designated closing time. thankful security hadn’t checked, probably due to the early closing of the store. robin going out to check every so often. it had been hours later when steve lifted his body from a light sleep.
he felt sticky, he felt the exhaustion pulse over him. he looked towards robin. who stared at him, letting her eyes soften not to startle him. she had grabbed a cup of water hours ago, and it sat there with her. waiting.
she nudged it towards him, still careful not to get too close. he moved to grab it, taking it in small sips.
“robin, i’m so,” his words fell flat, he didn’t think he would remember this much. didn’t think he could have, at least not from everything he’d researched alone.
tears fell down robin’s cheeks, she felt like this was the closest thing to shock a person could feel. she hated it, hated the way she was perceived. over something she couldn’t decide, something that was so out of her control. and she felt so ashamed, maybe not the same shame steve did, but hers was just as valid.
“i’m just glad you’re okay,” tear streaked cheeks and all, and she still managed to care more about steve, than herself. still managed to push aside all her feelings, and take care of him.
not because she was genetically crafted too but because he was her best friend, and she loved him. and he loved her.
they talked, they stayed there on the floor awhile longer. they shared horror stories, and stupid memories until they were ready. ready to walk out to steve’s car.
there things felt real, for the first time in hours this was real. and steve’s hands were shaking, his whole body really.
“rob,?”
“yeah?”
“i don’t know what to do,” it was broken, the words falling out of his mouth in a crumbled sense. he knew he couldn’t pretend it didn’t happen. couldn’t repress it any further back, no amount of shitty stories about chemistry class or disgusting ice cream orders could cover up what had unfolded. “this was never how i thought it would be, and i–”
“i realized when i was 13,” robin felt a sense of relief with her words, “i remember everything changing, and my god i could smell everything,”
“i mean it steve, like everything. and i was so, so mad because i remember thinking there was absolutely no way i could be an alpha, right?”
“but i was incredibly wrong, because then i had to lock myself in my room for a whole day, and i was so–”
“oh my god, robin!” steve was somewhere in between a laugh, “enough, enough!”
“too much?”
he gave her a soft nod.
“and f-y-i,” she pushed herself, steve was safe. steve would keep her safe too. “i’m not into you, or men, in like, general so,”
and like that, steve felt incredibly stupid, “you mean to tell me, we can pick?”
steve wasn’t completely dumb, he knew betas could pick, just not alphas and omegas. he assumed that was up to some different force. some divine creature.
“steve… of course you can pick?” robin was just as confused, “you just think of everyone as a potential partner?”
“of course not, i pick girls who are cute and present as betas,”
“yeah.. but do you like..” she didn’t know how to say these things, in fact robin wasn’t sure she knew how to speak, “like-like boys but not say it?”
“no robin!” of course he didn’t, “i only think of boys like that when i’m like, not taking my meds right,”
“steve.. what did you take back there?” the car suddenly felt ten times smaller.
“it’s uh, heat suppressors,” he scratched the back of his neck, “they help to stop-”
“i know what they do, but i also know that you’re taking way too many, and that it could seriously hurt you steve,” she really didn’t mean to sound so harsh, “i mean seriously?”
“is it really that bad to like boys?” she huffed, steve started to speak but she was quick to cut him off, “or-or is it really so bad to be an omega? because if it is then you have to figure something else out, you’re going to kill yourself,”
steve was silent, eyes blown. he knew he was hurting himself, knew the risks outweighed the rewards. but he knew it made his parents happy, knew they thought of him as less of a burden because he didn’t show his weakness. he knew his friends wouldn’t have liked him anymore, they would’ve thought of him as weak for it. he knew that he didn’t like that part of him. knew he couldn’t stand the thought of himself that way.
he realized he was crying again, and so was robin. because his fear, was shared with hers. the fear of losing him. but they were oh so different because steve, steve who was terrified of losing the version of himself he had created. he had worked so hard to build. to cover every ounce of weakness he had buried inside. and robin, who was scared of losing her best friend, steve who had become someone else when he talked about movies he liked. steve who had genuine love for the kids he hung out with, and gave them purpose. steve who only ever had to be steve.
“rob.. i’m scared,”
“i know,”
and that was it, he spilled it out. he told her all of it. repeating it over and over. he told her about feeling alone, and helpless. feeling like he would never be himself again. he told her about his parents, and the way they changed. told her about the drugs, and the terrible things he had done to himself. he told her how much he wanted to be loved.
“steve, you’ll always be loved,” and she meant it. she knew he’d find a first love, and he’d find a mate. but that’s not what made steve lonely, steve was lonely without a shoulder. without a person who could listen to him. steve needed a best friend, steve needed a bond that couldn’t break. no matter what.
steve drove them back to his house, robin had offered to sit in. his parents had left on a work trip, he was safe. and he trusted her, to stay with him.
robin left the next morning, making sure steve knew what to expect. they had studied all the books steve had, and even used the family computer once of twice. and the waves of his first heat, they were unbearable. but he pushed through. he felt relieved after, like he could really do this.
robin brought over the trashiest, sweetest food she could find once it had passed. and they celebrated. they celebrated them, their friendship. they celebrated steve and who he truly was. they celebrated to new beginnings.
they were whole.
writing patterns tag game
RULES: List the first line of your last 10 posted fics and see if there's a pattern! (I actually went with some of my most recent, but also the ones I'm proud of bc some of them are only 100 words...I went through a drabble phase and they're TERRIBLE)
Thanks @foibles-fables for the tag!!
i hate accidents except when we went from friends to this (Haikyuu, Daisuga):
Koushi and Daichi had been writing letters to each other for as long as Koushi could remember.
2) you showed me colors you know i can't see with anyone else (Naruto, Kakairu):
“You’ll never guess who I saw coming out of Hyuga’s,” Anko said as she rushed into the shop where Iruka stood getting his suit tailored.
3) lucky (i'm in love with my best friend) (Haikyuu, Kagehina):
Kageyama Tobio was not a romantic person.
4) bonds (Naruto, Kakairu):
Iruka felt a sharp sting in his chest.
5) grief like i've never known (Jujutsu Kaisen):
It flowed through his veins like molasses, dragging him down and down until he couldn’t move.
6) a night that we can't replace, it's a feeling we always chase (Naruto, Kakairu):
The fire crackled and popped, putting off heat as the snow swirled and raged outside the apartment.
7) i guess you never know, and it's another day waking up alone (Naruto, Kakashi & Iruka, MCD):
The counter still held his things.
8) night has always pushed up day (Critical Role, Vex/Percy):
At times, it felt like a feather, weighing lightly on her shoulders.
9) pieces form the whole (Hockey RPF...don't judge):
To be traded to the worst team in the league was nothing short of embarrassing after winning the World Series with one of the best teams in the league.
10) trade the ones you love for the ones you hate (Hockey RPF again...don't judge):
The sound of gloves hitting the ice always seemed to excite the crowd.
Trends: I tend to keep them short? I used to be better with hooks tbh. I don't think I'm nearly as good as I was between 2015-2017.
so i started another one-shot
because i can't help myself
crossmare
so i played with the horror and farm dolls, but decided i didn't like them as much after all. not putting this on ao3, but putting this out in the universe in case someone else might enjoy it. i dunno, i don't feel like i captured either of them very well. rottoncrops (farmer/horror)
3am coffee
He'd heard the stories of UFOs and aliens beaming up cows and people, so when the flashes of light and strange noises seemed to be coming from his barn, Farm's first thought at 3am was Aw shit, I've got me uh intergalactic problem...
With that in mind, Farm did what any sensible person would have done in the same situation.
The skeleton got out of bed, stepped into his slippers, put on his robe, and made his way downstairs. In his kitchen, he put on a pot of coffee and whipped up a quick batch of biscuits. While the dough rested, he washed his hands, stuffed and lit his pipe, grabbed his shotgun and flashlight, and headed towards the barn.
By the time he got over there, of course, the light show was over, and everything seemed normal. To the point that Farm briefly wondered if he’d dreamt it in the first place.
Better safe than sorry, he thought with a sigh, huffing out a puff from his pipe. Shotgun draped over his elbow, he clicked on his flashlight and got the barn door open. His eyes followed the beam his flashlight made. Nothing seemed out of place.
But he could smell it.
Something faint, bitter, and rancid tickled his nostrils. It was a smell Farm was familiar enough with that he smiled a little.
Fear.
“Yuh can c’mon outtuh hidin’,” he said out loud. Something tensed in the air like a held breath. “I ain’t gonna hurt you none. I got fresh coffee made, and the oven’s warmin’ up fer biscuits. Why don’chyuh c’mon out, an’ we can talk over some fresh biscuits ‘n’ gravy?”
“What’s the catch?” a voice hissed from the shadows around him.
He swallowed hard. Every instinct in him now warned Farm not to make any sudden moves. The voice almost sounded like it was behind him. Farm forced a smile. “Ain’t no catch, I swear. Just a peace offerin’. Yuh come a long way, right? Yuh must be hungry.”
There was a quiet while the stranger considered Farm’s offer. “I… don’t have anything to give in exchange.” A knife flashed in the corner of his eye, the blade curved towards Farmer’s throat. “This is some sort of trick! You’re going to try and kill me for food!”
“Fer… what?”
The knife edged closer to his throat. Farm lifted his chin. “Food, you simpleton! There’s not enough to go around, remember? You ‘re going to kill me and eat me!”
Farm chuckled nervously, holding up both hands. “I don’t know what’s goin’ on on yer planet, friend, but we got plenty of food here. I don’t gotta kill nobody to live, I promise. ‘Cept fer the occasional pig ‘r cow… or chicken. Or rabbit, but that’s a treat I save fer the holidays.”
The hand holding the knife wavered; the blade came away from his throat. “Rabbits? You… raise rabbits?”
“Sure do!” Farm replied with a grin. “Got me some sheep and a goat too. And a funky little lizard that looks like a dinosaur. Got all sorts uh critters.” He laughed. “Darn learnt everything but uh fishin’ pond, and even then, river ain’t too far away. If yuh stay past sunrise, yuh can mee’ em iffin yuh want.”
Again that hand lowered a little more. “I don’t have anything to give in exchange,” the stranger repeated. “I can’t pay you back.”
“Don’ need tuh,” Farm assured. He shrugged. “But iffin it’ll help yuh feel better ‘bout the whole deal, I can put yuh tuh work. If yuh like, you can stay as long as yuh need. Ah don’ mind none.” His smile fell. “Awful lonely way out here since mah brother moved to the city. Could use some company.”
Finally the knife came away from his throat. The shadows to Farm’s left solidified and moved, taking the form of a skeleton that stepped into the light of Farm’s flashlight.
Immediately noticeable was the chunk missing from the stranger’s skull. Farm did his best not to stare, turning his gaze to the stranger’s bloody, dusty hoodie and shorts. The stranger was both taller and wider than Farmer, and his teeth seemed both sharper and harder. Like they could break bone… His single red eyelight stared at Farmer with wary suspicion as he slid the knife back into his sleeve.
Farm moved the flashlight to his other hand so he could offer it to shake. “Farmer Sans,” he introduced himself.
The eyelight flicked between the offered hand and his face. “Horror,” replied the stranger, not accepting the hand.
Which didn’t offend Farm at all. He suspected his guest had a list of reasons why he should keep his guard up. Farmer shrugged and changed flashlight hands again.
“C’mon,” he offered with a grin. “Coffee’s gonna burn iffin we let it sit too long undrunk. Yuh like coffee?”
The red eyelight shifted to one side sheepishly. “It’s… been a long time since I had coffee…”
Farmer patted his back. “Well, lucky fer you, I grow mah own.” He led the way out of the barn and closed it up behind them. “I even got uh special greenhouse so I can grow ‘em out of season.” He laughed. “Yuh’d be surprised how nice it is tuh have good, fresh coffee in the middle of winter!”
The skeleton paused to look back at his guest when Horror didn’t reply and found the stranger standing several paces behind, his gaze turned up to the sky. Black tears trickled down Horror’s cheeks. Farm smiled and looked up as well.
“Stars are mighty purdy tonight,” he said with a wistful sigh.
“Stars…” mumbled Horror. “Real stars…” He nodded and wiped his face with a shaky hand. “Yes… They are rather… pretty…”
Farm took a hesitant step closer. “Yuh ain’t never seen the stars before, have yuh…”
Silently the other skeleton shook his head.
“Well tell yuh whut…” Farm’s grin returned. “How ‘bout yuh make yerself nice an’ cozy on the porch swing while I make our coffee? That way we can talk an’ watch the stars together, a’ight?”
Horror wordlessly nodded. Though he remained unspeaking and his expression betraying nothing, Farm still sensed a deep, profound sadness, like a wounded animal just about to give up hope. And a small flicker of wonder at those stars. Saying nothing else himself, Farm led his guest to the wide porch swing. The hinges and chains squeaked a little as Horror hesitantly sat, wobbling as it tried to swing under him. It didn’t escape Farm’s notice that Horror sat on the edge of the swing, ready to leap to his feet at a moment’s notice. He would have said something about it, but Farm knew his guest wouldn’t simply accept the words “you can relax, it’s safe.”
“You jus’ wait right here,” Farm told him. “I’ll get started on them biscuits an’ bring out some coffee, a’ight?”
Again, Horror only silently nodded, looking more and more like a child unsure if they were in trouble or unwelcome.
I just wanna wrap him in uh blanket an’ hug ‘im ‘til he gets it, Farm thought with a sigh as he retreated inside.
He put away his gun and flashlight and got the biscuits rolled out. Cooking was little trouble for Farm; he enjoyed the task and saw it as a form of meditation. There were certain recipes he’d make on certain days, based on the weather or his mood. Focaccia was good for when he wanted to punch something, and fudge was for when the humidity was just right.
Rolling and cutting out the biscuits gave him something to focus on so his mind wouldn’t wander in worry to his quiet guest.
He got the biscuits on a baking sheet and in the oven, then made coffee. Unsure of how Horror took his, Farm mixed one with extra sugar and creamer and one with just sugar, and would let his guest choose.
As he left his kitchen, booty-bumping the door since his hands were full, Farm expected his guest to be gone.
But when he stepped outside, he found that Horror was right where Farm left him, sitting on the swing, crying black tears as he gazed up at the stars.
“How do yuh like her coffee?” Farm asked gently as he sat beside Horror on the swing.
The broken skeleton shrugged.
Taking that to mean he didn’t care, and figuring Horror needed the extra goodness of it, Farmer gave him the bug with the cream-and-sugar coffee, keeping the black with sugar for himself. Farm leaned back on the swing and stretched an arm over the back of it. He crossed one leg over the other and used his foot to slowly rock them. Horror fumbled a little about to spring up and flee, but once he realized the movement was only them, he relaxed visibly. Leaning forward onto his elbows and knees, Horror rocked the swing with him.
For a while, neither spoke. They existed together in a comfortable quiet, sipping coffee, rocking on the swing, watching the stars. Farm had all the time in the world, and his patience was rewarded.
“I’ve never seen the stars,” Horror admitted. “I’m from a place so far away from them, we had a room that mimicked the night sky. Sparkling crystals embedded in a high ceiling… There was even a telescope you could look through for five undollars.”
“But…” Farm nudged him. The broken skeleton was speaking in the past tense.
Horror huffed a brief smile. “But it’s gone now. We needed the room for something else. We needed the crystals for something else. The star room was the first to go.”
“You don’ gotta talk ‘bout it iffin yer not ready.”
The broken skeleton nodded, and that was the end of the conversation.
i'm sorry for the atrocities i'm going to someday unleash upon the internet
nevermind, no i'm not sorry
bonus:
