#<— guy who isn’t going to admit he likes the sense of stability that comes w fusing w someone he genuinely trusts and likes

[stardustdiiving]

With that being said.

Here is my detailed pitch on what would happen if Wanderer & Nahida Genshin Impact did steven universe fusion (the most important meta about them I have ever done):

Disclaimer I am not putting much thought into Crossover lore here just imagine somehow There Is Gem Fusion In Genshin Impact.

Also breaking this into 3 segments: character stances on fusion, fusion circumstances, & fusion personality!

Character stances on fusion: I think it would be a pretty big deal for such a fusion to exist because I think Wanderer & Nahida both have really specific and complicated relationships with fusion as a concept overall.

Nahida would’ve never had the opportunity to fuse with anyone because of her imprisonment and the lack of any interpersonal relationships that results from it, while Wanderer to be honest probably has an almost traumatic relationship with it, either just out of his general jadedness about trusting people, or if you wanted to make it Even Worse, you can say the last fusion experience (and possibly one of the Only ones he’s had) was with Dottore—which would obviously be sort of a Malachite situation where it’s a very unhealthy fusion based on a relationship of (perceived) mutual exploitation and toxicity.

Formation circumstances: But I really do think I can see a hat radish fusion existing. I think it’s something they try to form form originally out of necessity or in a moment of need (there’s some big threat they realize they need both their strengths in a combined way [it’s either a thread against Sumeru Wanderer offers Nahida help with, or I can see Nahida coming in to help Wanderer confront Dottore], or during a critical moment they have a moment of understanding and fuse in the same way Steven and Amethyst do for the first time)

I think it’s a fusion very deeply based off trust and a mutual respect + understanding of each other’s experiences and genuinely works really well. Wanderer doesn’t really like talking about or acknowledging it particularly around other people, I think he handwaves it off as just being a trick they use for extra strength when necessary but their fusion is so stable when formed you can tell he’s really down with it. (This is especially obvious to Nahida as the other half of the fusion). Nahida obviously just thinks fusion is Really Fascinating as an Embodiment of Relationships and Experiences and in Wanderer’s words “will not stop employing bizarre poetic metaphors about it whenever it’s relevant”

After the initial more In The Moment circumstance of the fusion forming I think they do a usual dance for it and I think it’s just genuinely really cute. I’m imagining it being like those parent / child swing dances where Wanderer can spin Nahida around and it’s really endearing because Nahida is full of energy and having a really good time while Wanderer is trying very hard to look neutral.

Fusion Personality: ok so with all of this in mind we need to talk about the fusion itself. I think the first time traveler & paimon meet them Paimon’s like woah!! Wanderer & Nahida fusion! That’s so cool! They must be pretty powerful huh! And the fusion is like I Sure Am :D and demonstrates this in a Cool way. And Initially at first the fusion just seems like an easy going guy who’s full of whimsy and easy to get along with and Traveler + Paimon even make a comment like wow! it seems they mostly took after Nahida’s personality and not Wanderer’s Haha. That’s a relief. Maybe we should ask them to fuse more often this is kind of great

And then they regret this statement almost immediately, because as it turns out. Wanderer & Nahida’s fusion is also a massively lame nerd and a hilariously insufferable smartass. I AM SO VIVIDLY LIKE. imagining this little guy who’s a little smaller than Wanderer (Wanderer is not happy Nahida is stopping them from being cool and intimidating looking) with 4 arms who is constantly pulling up Nahida’s little holograms to emote and gesture along with anything they’re saying and does not stop TALKING and making silly bizarre nerd jokes and quips and crackling at them despite the fact they make zero sense to Anyone else. (Except maybe Cyno, who encourages this. Utterly horrifying)

They’re a really strong and useful ally in a fight but also genuinely kind of terrifying in combat. They fly around and do a blend of Wanderer & Nahida’s attacks where they skip around between spontaneously formed hopscotch tiles in the air and blast you with them while just visibly having fun and a good time. They rarely actively attack and tend to flip opponents around with a lot of illusion mindfuckery while making playful silly comments about it and are unfortunately not all for show bc they hit fast and hard when they DO attack. They have the durability of a toothpick and are kind of easy to punt around but good luck getting a hit on them omfg

Absolutely absurd force of nature. Baffles everyone constantly. But they’re a nice guy! friendly and super playful, VERY talkative, a little snarky in humor, mildly terrifying in combat, laughs in kind of a magical crackling way sometimes, and your friend :)! Wanderer and Nahida are probably the ones having the most fun here. No one else knows what to think of them. They present themselves are more chill to the general people of Sumeru (they know it’s like an alternate form of Nahida but not the specifics) who find them just kind of ominous and surprisingly more intimidating than Nahida is despite the fact they’re like 4.9” . I love them

I think steven universe fusion is a really specific but fun kind of character study to do with any dynamic you like bc it’s literally this physical embodiment of the character’s relationship. So cool

[nel-world]

Two Friends

Written by [Your Name]

FADE IN:

EXT. NYC BENCH – DAY

Bill sits on a bench, buried in papers, lost in thought. Michael approaches, hands in his pockets.

MICHAEL Still working? Come on, let’s go. You’re starting to look like one of those statues around here.

BILL Yeah, I have a meeting tomorrow. Can’t mess this one up.

Michael leans against a nearby lamp post, sipping his coffee.

MICHAEL It’s Friday, man. You said you wanted to party a week ago. Live a little.

BILL Not today. This meeting is massive.

Michael chuckles, trying to keep things light.

MICHAEL You’re always chasing something big. What if you just… stopped, even for a minute?

BILL (smirks) If I stop, I fall behind. This city doesn’t wait.

MICHAEL And neither does life, buddy. You can work on it later, you know.

BILL If it was anything else, I would. But this meeting—I can’t miss it.

Michael sighs, realizing he can’t change Bill's mind.

MICHAEL One day, all this pressure’s gonna make you explode. Just don’t forget you’ve got people here, ready to catch you when you do.

INT. NICK’S APARTMENT – EVENING

Nick rehearses with his father’s hat and a candle. His roommate enters, watching him curiously.

ROOMMATE Hey, what's with the hat? It’s like your secret weapon or something?

NICK (adjusting the hat) Yeah, it’s my dad’s. He always wore it to important meetings, said it brought him luck.

ROOMMATE (laughs) Guess you need some luck tonight, huh?

NICK (smiling wryly) More than just luck. I need a miracle.

ROOMMATE Well, maybe this time it'll work for you too. But you gotta admit, it's a bold look.

NICK (breathes deeply) Desperate times, man. Desperate times.

They share a quiet moment, the weight of Nick’s hopes evident.

EXT. MICHAEL’S APARTMENT BUILDING – DAY

Bill storms out of the building, throwing his jacket over his shoulder. Michael, standing near the steps, senses Bill’s mood.

MICHAEL Rough day?

BILL (sighs, frustrated) I didn’t get selected. Spent weeks on it, and they said I didn’t fit. Who are they to decide?

Michael watches Bill, letting him vent.

MICHAEL That’s the nature of the game. Sometimes you’ve got to compromise, even when it hurts.

BILL Compromise? That’s all I do! I’m giving them everything, and it’s never enough.

MICHAEL You’re doing more than you realize, Bill. You just don’t see it yet.

BILL (snaps) Feels like I’m getting nowhere. At least you’ve got a stable job... something to fall back on.

Michael takes a breath, trying to stay calm.

MICHAEL I chose stability. But that doesn’t mean I don’t get your struggle.

BILL (sinks to the ground, defeated) I thought something would’ve clicked by now.

MICHAEL (placing a hand on Bill's shoulder) It will. Maybe it’s just time to find some balance, Bill.

INT. NICK’S APARTMENT – LATE NIGHT

Nick slumps on the couch, looking defeated. His roommate approaches.

ROOMMATE Rough day?

NICK You could say that. Casting director cut me off mid-sentence.

ROOMMATE (scoffs) And you’re surprised? Dude, you know how this game is. You get knocked down a hundred times, but it only takes one ‘yes.’

NICK Feels like a thousand ‘no’s’ lately.

ROOMMATE (chuckling) If it were easy, everyone would be a star. You’re still in it. That’s what matters.

NICK (groans) I just want to feel like I’m not wasting my time.

ROOMMATE (leans in, serious) You’re not wasting your time. You’re chasing your dream, man. That’s not something everyone has the guts to do.

EXT. SIDEWALK CAFÉ – DAY

Bill and Michael sit at a table outside. Tension lingers as Michael pitches Bill a job opportunity.

MICHAEL I got a job offer for you. Good pay, benefits, stability.

BILL I’m not a nine-to-five guy. I can’t just... sell out.

MICHAEL This isn’t selling out. It’s surviving. You need to eat, Bill.

BILL I don’t want your job.

MICHAEL And I don’t want you to take it out of pity. But you’ve got to decide what’s more important.

Bill looks away, torn.

MICHAEL You can chase the dream, but don’t burn your whole life trying to catch it.

BILL (muttering) I don’t know how to be anything else.

MICHAEL You don’t have to be. Just don’t forget there’s more to you than just going for auditions.

INT. NICK’S KITCHEN – MORNING

The roommate mentions a potential job to Nick over breakfast.

ROOMMATE So, I heard about a job opening downtown. More pay, but longer hours.

NICK (sighs) Yeah? What’s the catch?

ROOMMATE It’ll eat up more of your time. But at least you’d have money to keep the lights on.

NICK I don’t know. If I take it, it’s like I’m giving up on acting.

ROOMMATE It’s not giving up; it’s surviving. But only you know if it’s worth the cost.

NICK (pauses, thinking) I just don’t want to wake up one day and realize I’ve let my dream slip away.

ROOMMATE (supportively) And you won’t, as long as you keep fighting for it—even if you have to fight dirty sometimes.

EXT. PARK BENCH – DAY

Michael sits with his laptop on his lap, checking his calendar. Bill paces in front of him, restless.

MICHAEL Hey, I set up an interview for you tomorrow. It’s with a friend of mine—small marketing firm, but it’s a good start.

BILL (interrupting his thoughts) An interview? I didn’t ask for that.

MICHAEL I know. But you’ve been saying you need something steady, and this could be it.

BILL (annoyed) I don’t know, man. I’ve got so much on my plate right now.

MICHAEL Just go. It’s not a lifetime commitment—it’s a chance to get out of this rut. And it’s tomorrow morning at 10. Don’t be late.

BILL (sighs, reluctantly) Alright, I’ll think about it.

MICHAEL Don’t just think. Show up.

INT. NICK’S LIVING ROOM – NIGHT

Nick’s roommate grabs a broomstick and initiates a playful sword fight.

ROOMMATE Hey, Mr. Action Star! Let’s see those moves.

NICK (laughs) I’m prepping for Macbeth, not Mortal Kombat.

ROOMMATE (playfully swings the broom) C’mon, show me something. Maybe you’ll land a role as the next Zorro.

NICK (dodging) More like the next zero if I don’t nail this audition.

ROOMMATE You’ll get there. Just gotta stop fighting like you’re afraid to break a nail.

EXT. NYC STREET – MORNING

Michael confronts Bill for skipping the interview.

MICHAEL I heard you skipped the interview.

BILL I overslept. Besides, it wasn’t that important.

MICHAEL It’s important to me—you know I recommended you, right? My reputation’s on the line here.

BILL It’s just selling stuff—convincing people to buy things they don’t need.

MICHAEL It’s more than that, Bill. And it pays the bills.

BILL (grumbles) Money isn’t everything.

MICHAEL No, but it sure makes life easier.

BILL Does it? All I see is you constantly chasing—cars, apartments, a lifestyle that feels empty.

MICHAEL And you? Sitting at home creating, acting like it’s going to change the world?

BILL At least I’m not part of some corporate machine.

MICHAEL Spare me the lecture. You’ve got talent—don’t throw it away.

EXT. HOME – DAY

Bill sits on a bench, visibly anxious. Michael, now weakened, steps out, wearing a hospital gown and jacket.

BILL Are you okay? What’s going on?

Michael hesitates, struggling to find the words.

MICHAEL I have cancer. Stage three. It’s in my lymph nodes.

BILL (stunned) But... you’re strong. You’ve always been strong.

MICHAEL (trying to stay composed) Not this time, Bill.

Bill looks away, overwhelmed, wiping his eyes.

BILL Is there a treatment plan?

MICHAEL Chemo, radiation—the works. It’s gonna be a fight, but I’ve still got some fight left.

Bill stares at the city skyline, grappling with his emotions.

BILL I don’t know what to say.

MICHAEL Just don’t treat me like I’m already gone.

Bill turns, tears in his eyes.

BILL I’m not going anywhere. We’ve still got too much left to do.

Michael smiles faintly, grateful for Bill’s resolve.

INT. NICK’S APARTMENT – NIGHT

Nick angrily throws his bag after another failed audition. His roommate intervenes.

NICK This is pointless! I’m never gonna make it.

ROOMMATE Whoa, easy there. What happened?

NICK Everything! They all keep saying no. I don’t know if it’s me, my looks, or my luck.

ROOMMATE (firmly) It’s none of those. It’s just the grind. You gotta push through it. Use that anger, but don’t let it break you.

NICK (voice breaking) It’s hard, man. I don’t even know why I’m doing this anymore.

ROOMMATE (breaking the tension with humor) Because you’re too stubborn to do anything else.

Nick laughs despite himself, appreciating the support.

EXT. NYC ROOFTOP – DAY

Michael, weakened but determined, helps Bill upload his project online.

MICHAEL Ready? I’m uploading it.

BILL Not really. But when am I ever ready?

Michael chuckles softly, despite his pain.

MICHAEL Let’s get this thing online. Time to show the world.

Bill watches as Michael clicks through the upload process.

BILL What if no one likes it?

Michael stops, looking Bill in the eyes.

MICHAEL It’s not about that. It’s about taking the shot. If one person sees it and feels something… that’s enough.

Bill nods, feeling lighter as the progress bar fills. The upload completes. They sit in silence.

BILL What now?

MICHAEL We wait. Then we celebrate. You did it.

Bill fights back tears, knowing this moment is more than just about the upload.

INT. NICK’S APARTMENT – NIGHT

The roommate raises a toast to Nick after he gets his first callback.

ROOMMATE To Nick! The man who got his first callback on The Hess Show!

NICK (smirking) It’s not a win yet.

ROOMMATE A callback is a win. So, drink up. Small victories lead to big ones.

Nick takes a sip, trying to embrace the moment.

NICK Here’s hoping you’re right.

ROOMMATE (triumphantly) Damn right, I am. You’ve worked for this.

They clink glasses, and Nick feels a surge of confidence.

EXT. PARK – DAY

Bill and Michael sit on a park bench, surrounded by the bustling life of NYC.

MICHAEL I don’t regret any of it. I just wish I had more time.

BILL You deserved more.

Michael turns, smiling softly.

MICHAEL We all get the time we get. It’s what we do with it that counts.

BILL I’m not ready for this to end.

MICHAEL Neither am I. But it’s not over. Not as long as you keep going.

BILL I don’t know how to keep going without you.

MICHAEL (teary-eyed) You’ll find a way. You always do. And when you do, I’ll be proud.

Bill takes a deep breath, processing the reality.

INT. NICK’S LIVING ROOM – EVENING

The roommate watches Nick rehearse for his solo show.

ROOMMATE Not bad. But maybe try it slower. Let the words breathe.

NICK (nervous) You think it’s good enough?

ROOMMATE It’s more than good enough. Just remember—this is your story. Own it.

NICK (grinning) Thanks, man. Couldn’t have gotten this far without you.

ROOMMATE (smiling) Just don’t forget me when you’re famous.

Nick laughs, his determination shining through.

INT. COMMUNITY THEATER – NIGHT

Nick rehearses for his solo show with confidence, subtly incorporating his fire abilities.

NICK (to himself) This is it. No turning back.

He practices intensely, finding a rhythm that blends acting with his unique powers.

EXT. PARK – DAY

Amy helps Nick shoot promotional material for the solo show, symbolizing their strengthened partnership.

AMY Okay, ready for take two?

NICK (grinning) Let’s do it.

Nick performs with more energy, feeling the synergy between acting and his newfound abilities.

AMY (enthusiastic) That was amazing, Nick. This is gonna turn heads.

Nick smiles, feeling a renewed sense of hope.

INT. COMMUNITY THEATER – NIGHT

Nick makes last-minute adjustments to his solo show, using the therapist’s mantra to calm his nerves.

NICK (to himself, steadying his breathing) I’ve got this.

He takes a moment to center himself, then heads towards the stage.

BACKSTAGE – NIGHT

Nick prepares to go on stage, nervous but determined.

ROOMMATE (from behind the curtain) Break a leg, man.

NICK (smirking) Thanks. I’ll try not to set the stage on fire.

His roommate laughs as Nick steps onto the stage.

INT. COMMUNITY THEATER – NIGHT

Nick delivers a powerful performance, blending his acting talent and personal experiences.

NICK (projecting) This is my story. This is who I am.

He ends the solo show with a heartfelt monologue, fully embracing his journey and accepting his true self.

FINAL SCENE: REFLECTION IN THE PARK

Bill sits alone on a park bench, reflecting. He looks up at the city skyline, remembering Michael's words.

BILL (to himself, quietly) I’ll keep going.

He stands up, resolute, and starts walking with a newfound sense of purpose.

[mcmactictac]

Hello hello I was randomly thinking about this as I was at work and I’m finally getting a chance to write it this is gonna be a long one folks buckle up today we’re talking about the hunger games, and specifically the “love triangle”

I’ve watched/read the series throughout various points in my life and my opinions have always changed slightly as I grow older and gain more knowledge. I personally see Katniss as aro/ace, I think it makes sense for her character. I’m not really qualified to talk about that but I have seen some people in that community do a wonderful job explaining it. So with that in mind I’m looking at this through a more practical lense, who compliments her personality and needs best.

Now I have always stood by that at the very beginning of the series, Gale and Katniss made sense. They were on the same wave length, they survived off each other and made good sense. If they had actually decided to run off before the games, they would have worked. But as soon as Katniss comes back from the games, it all goes to shit. Because she’s no longer on that wavelength with Gale. He doesnt understand and he never will. And during the games Peeta was the person she “survived” off of. Yes she carried them but they were in it together for a while you know?

Now she doesn’t really trust Peeta yet. I mean yeah she likes him, she put in the effort to help him but she doesn’t have that connection she had with Gale at the start. And you have to keep in mind that the games were really not that long. Katniss and Peeta hadn’t spent that much time together before the games ended. So although they are intensely bonded out of trauma and necessity, once shes out of that situation she tries to detach. But you can’t go back to how it was before. Suddenly you’ve killed people and you almost died and you lost people and it’s intensely traumatic. Katniss never wanted to show off, it was all about practicality and survival. And you come back different than before, with the guy you spent so much time with interpreting your actions wrong. He wants conflict. He invites it for the “greater good”. Katniss really doesn’t want to cause more fighting. She has already fought enough. And Peeta is the only other person (besides Haymitch) who knows what the games are really like. And her and Peeta will always share that burden together.

Like Katniss, Peeta never wants conflict. He’s smart and he can get what he wants in other ways. Without him admitting his crush on Katniss in the first book, he likely would have died. He can get closer to what he wants without hurting people. He only volunteered in the Quarter Quell to protect Katniss, not because he wanted to go in and prove something. He fully intended to die so that she can live. He’s fiercely loyal and understands in a way no one else ever could. Even after mockingjay, at his core those qualities are still there.

Gale is a raging fire full of heat and passion, Peeta is the gentle warmth of a fireplace. Gale leads with practicality and Peeta leads more with his heart. Gale is the sharp sting of wind on a winter morning as it freezes your skin, Peeta is the warmth of natural sunlight in the summer. For a long time, Gale guaranteed safety. But after the games, that wasn’t true anymore and especially after Mockingjay with Prim. Gale is 100% responsible for that. In a war situation, it’s a good move. A really really low blow, but effective and he knew that. He spends so much time wrapped in his anger and his determination to do what’s right he loses his empathy along the way.

Katniss wants safety. She doesn’t want to fight, she doesnt want to run anymore. Gale can’t give her the stability, the safety, the comfort that she so desperately needs. But Peeta can. He’s going through the exact same thing. “Choosing” Peeta promises stability snd understanding. Not having to fight. Just enjoy the peace and simplicity. Peeta makes sense because Gale is never going to understand her. She’s always going to feel isolated around him.

Peeta understands. He’s connected to her through their history, and they grew and changed together. Gale and Katniss grew apart as Peeta and Katniss grew together. At the end of the series the only “choice” for her is Peeta because she doesn’t trust Gale anymore. He isn’t safe, he isn’t the more peaceful life she wants anymore. He evolved and wants something different, and their values don’t line up any more. Peeta provides the soft warmth and compassion she needs.

That being said she doesn’t NEED anyone. But she does a shit job taking care of her own mental health, and Peeta would be able to help her with that in ways Gale can’t. Post everything, Peeta is a better support than Gale, despite Peeta being unstable himself.

That being said I was a Gale fan the first time I read the books like years ago but the older I get the more it’s like. They’d never work. They aren’t the same people they were at the start. After Katniss comes back from the first games they were never going to work because Gale was always focused on moving the revolution aspect forward, and not on the fact Katniss was in severe mental distress.

Katniss is perfectly capable of providing for herself, but she needs someone to support her emotionally as she works through her trauma. Peeta is the only person who can do that by the end because he’s the only one who understands and that she trusts. That’s all!!

[why-this-kolaveri-machi]

please. i can’t do this alone.

Titans 3.01

thoughts! thoughts! thoughts! some red hot thoughts!

SPOILERS ahead.

1. one episode in, and this season already looks set to give me everything i want. its abandonment of plot and storytelling conventions as it goes from one point to the next at breakneck speed; its cheerful bastardisation of iconic storylines from the comics; the ‘as-you-know-bob’ clunky exposition on one end and extremely restrained, subtle explorations of complex character dynamics on the other; endless shots of neon bleeding into black and blue corridors, shadows and silhouettes; my delight in seeing it celebrate and deconstruct the dark nolan-y batman aesthetic at the same time; my bafflement that it’s so fucking goddamn obsessed with the batfam when it’s supposed to be about the TITANS; kory just... saving every overburdened, clunky scene that she’s in by her sparkling charisma. just... *chef’s kiss*. muah. my show is back, in all its glory.

MY SHOW IS BACK, Y’ALL!

1.5. i mean... this show is so artful and weird and not afraid to go absolutely bonkers in exploring its characters’ psyche, but can just about barely stage a passable comic book fight when every tom dick and harry and their new streaming services can deliver ones that are far more exciting. i love this show with every atom of my body.

(there’s something to be said about rooting for the underdog as well. a pleasure in finding something to love about what other people dismiss. but! enough navel gazing! i have fictional characters’ navels to look at! metaphorically! and maybe literally!)

2. i expected jason’s death to come about pretty early in the season as soon as i heard rumours that red hood was showing up, but for it to happen in the first five minutes of the first episode... that’s a record. 

(well. “happen.” still don’t know what exactly went down there.)

2.25. GOD. jason is such a tortured and tragic character in this show, used and passed around by people with alleged good intentions, never really fitting in anywhere. he’s veritably bleeding vulnerability and the need to belong, the need to be known, and yet the tragedy is that his death proves that nobody in his life knew anything about him at all; that they only saw the flimsy walls he put up to protect his soft core, and thought that that was all there was. that they say they loved him, but blame him for his own death. 

dick is flabbergasted that jason can read, though we know from last season, from what jason revealed to rose, that he has a love for plays and music. barbara is quick to dismiss his actions as ‘impulsive’. bruce has no idea that his supposed son was building his own little chemistry lab right under his nose, and beyond that, no idea that jason needed structure, stability and validation beyond being left alone in a huge house with a treasure trove of dangerous weapons. kory thought his decision to fight the joker was from not learning and growing when the guy tried to kill himself last season and nobody apart from dick even tried to talk to him about it! did you consider that he might still be suicidal? especially after the titans admitted to having “given up” on him because he was just “too hard”?

2.5. the one thing that’s been consistent across all three seasons (so far) of the show is the unreliable narrator trope. there’s a reason why the characters’ dismissals of jason’s actions as impulsive is so repetitive; why jason’s death is a mystery dick feels compelled to solve. it’s a flailing attempt to know his brother much too late--but with red hood, maybe he gets a second chance, just like he got one with the titans. this is what jason’s arc has been building up to. this is ‘death in the family’ but more fucked up in some ways. it didn’t linger on the death because the death wasn’t the point. the joker isn’t the point. everything that came before it is.

this way it will also make perfect sense that the red hood’s main enemy becomes the titans rather than batman.

2.75. goodness knows what’s going on with jason’s little chemistry project. at first i thought he was immunising himself to joker gas or something, but maybe it’s what passes for lazarus pit juice in this universe? 

anyway, it’s pretty impressive that jason learnt all of that from a college chemistry textbook. STOP BRINGING UP THAT HE READ SOMETHING, DICK--

2.8. i’m glad that dick doesn’t immediately sink into self-loathing and guilt and tries to investigate jason’s death while also acknowledging how he failed him. it’s like he actually learned something from the last two years! 

anyway. more about dick later. 

3. oh how i love titans!bruce. a lot of characters had a lot of Opinions on his reaction to jason’s death in this episode, but again, i ask you to consider that they’re unreliable narrators, and this universe’s bruce is a product of how it shaped him. bruce wayne has become a phantom to himself--an artifice borne out of vigorous discipline and crushing self-denial. 

bruce has been batman for a very long time, and without a robin for much longer. (dick must be... in his early thirties? so he was robin for about, say, 10-12 years according to the timeline of the show. that still makes bruce pretty old when he took on his first robin.) things have... calcified (possibly parts of his brain). the personal cost and the collateral from the mission he’s taken up for most of his life is too much to countenance; it has to be a war, and war requires sacrifice. 

on some level bruce knows that’s a lie. he’s so goddamned alone. what’s he going to do? sit down and cry? who’s going to listen to him now? oh, is he going to just stop being batman? who’s going to stop gotham from consuming herself then? he’ll just have to forge ahead, do better next time, maybe he’ll be firmer with them, or kinder with them, or notice more things, or train them harder, or spend more time--

3.25. don’t get me wrong: titans!bruce is an asshole and a half. his roster of potential robins was honestly bone-chilling. the fact that there’s a twisted root of compassion makes it more disturbing. 

3.5. alfred’s dead! it must’ve been pretty recent, because i could’ve sworn that dick tried to call alfred in the very first episode of season 1, or at least considered calling him... 

what a devastating double-blow for bruce then, losing his father-figure and his, uh.... son-figure so close together.

4. i don’t know about barbara yet. i mean, i like her, but she had so much clunky expository dialogue to deliver this episode, and for an episode that was named after her, she only showed up halfway through it. but i like the weight of history behind her interactions with both bruce and dick and her compassion to bruce before he cruelly crossed a line. i also like the implication that she and dick have been in touch recently, and that she didn’t immediately try to guilt-trip dick about some perceived abandonment. it’d be too repetitive.

4.5. there’s also a sense that she ran interference for dick a lot whenever there was something Too Big and Emotional for him to confront directly, and i like and appreciate that character beat.

5. dick, my man! it really does feel like a substantial length of time has passed between the end of s2 and the beginning of s3... kory’s got a new costume, they’ve become celebrities in SF, working missions together, and dick’s actually smiling! genuinely enjoying his work and having fun with it for possibly the first time in the entire series! it’s really a far cry from the fractured, dysfunctional mess that they were at the end of the last season.

i just hope this doesn’t mean that they’ve magically reached a resolution off-screen to all of their fucked-upness from last season, and that the repercussions--for gar in particular--are actually addressed on screen. 

5.25. i mentioned this briefly above, but it really is so refreshing that dick doesn’t wallow in guilt and self-loathing after jason’s death; he acknowledges his and the titans’ failure, is able to admit to barbara honestly that he’s not doing great, and is actively trying to reach out to bruce to make sure he’s ok, is trying to investigate what made jason seek out the joker on his own, and is probably the only person not immediately buying that it was jason’s recklessness that got him killed. i love that dick is finally beginning to trust his instincts or just employ them at all after years of guilt and paranoia and self-loathing. we love some positive character growth!

5.5. another thing i love? the bruce-dick interactions on this show. every scene they’re in together is so fraught with tension, both of them holding themselves back, their emotions on a whipcord-tight leash. dick wants to reach out to bruce, is even somewhat familiar with this brand of denial in the wake of grief, but wants barbara to make the first move because he genuinely does not know how to get bruce to open up. his instincts are right, and wonderful, and genuine, but his expression has been smothered by years of trauma, emotional and physical self-discipline, and what i suspect is poorly treated mental illness. 

it takes a lot for him to finally explode at bruce at the end of the episode--in a way he hasn’t done even when his only opinion of bruce was ‘fuck him’--and it’s all the more startling for how subdued he’s been through the episode, how much he’s been holding back his emotions for bruce’s sake. love it.

5.75. it sort of hurts my heart to see the flying graysons poster in jason’s room. there are a few implications:

a) jason settled into dick’s old room despite living in a giant mansion with dozens of other rooms he could’ve used

b) he didn’t take down dick’s poster--not when he moved in and was idolising him, not when he moved out of the titans and was sort of hating him. i wonder if the reminder of what dick was before robin--that he was forged out of unspeakable tragedy--gave jason the connection to dick that he so desperately wanted in real life

c) dick moved right back into the room and slept on the bed that was now jason’s. grief can be so quiet and piecemeal sometimes.

6. i spy the beginnings of actual arcs for both gar and kory! i just hope that with the move to gotham their stories don’t fall to the wayside...

6.5. i’ve known tim drake for less than ten minutes but if anything were to happen to him i’d kill everybody 

7. this review has gone on for too long and i am tiRED. however, before i leave: i miss some of the dedication-to-aesthetic that titans season 1 used to have. remember how the first few episodes didn’t really feel like a superhero show but something out of gothic horror? there was something gorgeous and raw about that, about open landscapes and the road and creepy buildings looming up at the end of it. moving to titans tower in s2 really ruined a lot of that for me, given its ripped-from-architectural-digest aesthetic, all smooth and clean and artificial. 

i hope that we really explore gotham’s hellscape in interesting and innovative ways instead of camping out in the batcave all the time and indulging in the show’s unending love for long corridors, neon backlights and silhouettes.

8.....

9.  wait, fuck, HOW CAN I FORGET ABOUT HOT PSYCHIATRIST GUY (TM)??? NONE of you prepared me for his return! NONE OF YOU! i gasped! i got up and did a happy dance! 

listen, titans writers, if you’ve had a peek at my titans s3 wishlist, please go ahead and give the other items on the list a go too, thankyouverymuch.

[oumaheroes]

If you're still doing hcs, #13 for France and #22 for England please :)

I'm sorry this is so late Cake my love orz <3

13: What is your muse’s favorite candy?

I don't see France as having that much of a sweet tooth. He's more of food guy, rather than a snacker or someone who eyes up sweets to eat on the side (*cough*England*cough*)

France likes meals. He likes food with refined elegance that may be small but will pack a powerful punch, something well planned, well cooked, and that will leave him smacking his lips and be contented. And that's the thing, he strives to be fulfilled- if he feels the need to snack or is hungry later then it wasn't a very good meal now, was it?

Afters, appetisers, the main course- the entire dining experience is something he enjoys and happily indulges in the whole shebang without restraint.

This lack of peckishness may also have something to do with the sheer amount of coffee this man drinks. If he were mortal, he might be feeling some not so positive side effects after all these decades of consuming continuous mugfuls of strong black coffee, but as an almost immortal being he's able to live the tortured artist's caffeinated dream.

That being said, he does still enjoy the odd sweet from time to time, but is partial to more traditional forms: sugared fruits, marzipan, and nougat.

22: What is your muse most thankful for?

Ooooohh, this one is difficult to answer.

it really depends on who's asking and because they're so vastly different, I'll tell you both.

If a friend or family member were to ask him, he’d say something snarky like, ‘being left alone’ or ‘watching you drive away.’ Maybe he’d say ‘my own good common sense’ or ‘my incredible ability to put up with your bullshit’, depending on who the asker is. This is obviously not a real answer and whomever he’s talking to knows this, but it’s England’s way of trying to slyly deflect away from something that might surface emotions and he can never have that.

If pushed, he might give a more practical answer, like ‘running water’ or ‘central heating’- both of which are very boring answers but also genuine ones. Practically all of the nations aside from those under 200 or so will relate to this strongly- the ability to just turn on a tapinside your home and have clean, safe water to drink?? And it comes in different temperatures??? Witchcraft.

England’s spent about 90% of his life without these luxuries and he is being genuine when he says that both are something he is thankful for, the same as having regular food to eat or a bed to sleep on, or more than one set of clothes. These in particular are more felt by the older nations than the relatively newer ex-colonies, an appreciation grown from a childhood where these were not guaranteed and there was no one to look after him but himself.

England is still careful with food. He will save leftovers rather than waste them and will use every part of an animal when he buys meat. He will eat things past the ‘best before’ date and will fix any leaking tap the second he notices that water is dripping from it, will repair and mend his clothes rather than throw them away. These are not things he stresses about anymore and he enjoys being able to chose to do this. If he doesn’t mend his worn clothes, he can very easily buy new ones, but also? He likes this jacket. Loves that coat. Prefers how that particular pair of boots fit around his heel. He’s eaten worse, far, far worse, and a tin of soup a year past its best before date won’t kill him, nor will it be inedible.

But this is still not the truest answer he could give. To himself, England will admit that he’s most thankful for stability. To be able to go to bed at night mostly sure of what he will wake up to. To be sure that there is medicine in his hospitals, money in his banks. That the people who called themselves his leaders today were the same ones as yesterday. That boats of food will come in for his people to eat and trade will go out for them to sell. That he can be sure that he will endure and keep on going without worry of invasion, war, famine, or plague.

This isn’t guaranteed; he knows this. But it’s the most guaranteed it’s ever been and this is what he is the most thankful for.

[pascalpanic]

Blood, Sweat, and Tears (Javier Peña x f!Reader)- Chapter Seven

Summary: Javier’s alright, but your anxiety over him hasn’t lessened.

W/C: 2.3k

Warnings: angst, lots of tears, I don’t know much about medical stuff so no guarantees on accuracy

A/N: Well, the angst isn’t quite over yet, but things are getting more into the hurt/comfort territory! Drugged-up Javi was actually really fun to write, and I hope you guys think so too!! Big thanks to @remmysbounty and @ilikechocolatemilkh​ for being my go-tos and helping me come up with some of this stuff!

there are no gifs of injured Javi or anything like that, so my apologies for the not-so-fitting gifs during the hospital chapters!!

previous chapter | next chapter

The surgery takes several hours, but it’s a success. Connie came in and checked on the surgery once or twice, but was more occupied with her husband’s injuries. Steve’s were minimal- a cut to the forehead required stitches, but everything else could be fixed by a bandage and a little time.

The shrapnel entered between two of Javier’s ribs, and just missed his liver. It was a deep wound, and required a lot of time in the OR to get him stabilized. The doctor and your fellow nurses took good care of him, and Lorena sat by your side the entire time. Her arm never left from around you, and you think you must’ve ruined her scrubs with the amount of breakdowns you had into her shoulder.

Once the surgery is finished, your beloved Javier all stitched up, the doctor wheels him to his room in the ICU, you and Lorena trailing behind her. Once he’s all settled, you sit in a chair next to his bed, clutching his hand.

“He won’t wake up for several hours, and even when he does, he won’t be himself for a couple more. Those pain meds they’ll give him are so strong he won’t be able to tell you his name. You should get some rest, hermana,” Lorena tells you, standing behind you and gently rubbing your hunched and tense shoulders.

“No. I want to be here when he wakes up, he needs to know he’s okay,” you sharply tell her and scoot away from her hands.

“Ana, I swear to god. At least nap here then.”

“No, Lorena.”

“He is going to be asleep for at least a few more hours. Rest.”

She’s right and you know it. Luckily, you don’t have to respond. In walks Connie and Steve, Connie breathing a sigh of relief when she sees Javier’s peacefully resting face. Her eyes water and she clings to Steve, who presses a kiss to his head. She can’t see it, but his eyes well with tears too, out of fear for his best friend.

The tears in their eyes renew yours, and you look at them, lower lip trembling. Steve waves you over with his free arm and pulls you to his chest. It’s no Javi hug, but it feels safe. He’s strong and protective and you squeeze him tight, sobbing into his chest. He waves Lorena over too and she scoots in, Steve’s large arms enveloping the three of you with ease. He feels like safety and it makes sense to you, suddenly, why Connie loves him so much: he feels like protection embodied. Like anything the world hurled at you could be fended off by him. You’ve rarely hugged Javier, maybe once since that girls night at the Murphys’, but he radiated that same energy, albeit in a different way. The two men might seem like polar opposites, but they’re very similar at heart: you know they’d both give their life for you.

This is the next best thing you could get to Javier’s arms right now, you think, and squeeze him tight. Connie and Steve have felt like parents to you sometimes, when you can’t reach your parents back home and need reassurance and find yourself calling their apartment, and Steve feels like a father in this moment, a protector. He murmurs to the three of you that it’s going to be okay, that Javier will be fine, and it makes you cry harder into his chest, but out of reassurance; you know it to be true this time, and Steve telling you it makes it even more real.

After a moment, he breaks away and you all sniffle awkwardly, scattering around the room and pretending to busy yourself: you blow your nose, Connie checks Javier’s charts, Steve sets some of Javi’s belongings on a countertop. You return to your bedside vigil, taking Javier’s hand again. You press a soft kiss to his knuckles, your tears falling onto his fingers. His steady pulse beeps throughout the room, reminding you that he’s safe and alive and he’s going to be alright. You sigh softly and look up at the other visitors to the room.

Connie brings you another tissue with a soft smile, patting your shoulder. “I can’t ask you to rest. I know it won’t work. But please, just close your eyes for a few minutes.”

Steve nods, standing next to her. “Brought some of Javi’s clothes. You want a jacket of his or something?” he asks, knowing it might be a comfort. You nod and he brings you a heavy green jacket. He drapes it over your shoulders and you curl into it, sighing at the way it smells like Javier. Connie smiles a little as she notices you unconsciously relaxing. “Steve and I will be right outside. Come on, Lori,” she says, and Lorena follows the two of them out of the room.

You sigh, pushing your chair up against a wall and resting your head against it. Your fingers are still laced through Javier’s. You suddenly feel relaxed, the whir of the air conditioning and the steady beep of his heart rate soothing you. It’s just you and Javier, and he’s asleep.

“I love you too,” you whisper out into the quiet room. “I mean it. Te quiero, Javi. Por favor, despierta para que pueda decirte eso.”

He doesn’t wake. Unsurprising, really, you think and chuckle to yourself. He won’t wake for another few hours, Lorena was right. As long as you’re right beside him, you figure that shutting your eyes for a little whole won’t hurt. You do exactly that, the hum of the room lulling you to sleep as your adrenaline finally flushes out from your system. Sleep finds you within minutes.

-

When you wake, you startle. Lorena stands at the end of Javier’s hospital bed, reading over the charts. She smiles and looks up as she notices you stirring. You open your mouth to ask the question but she beats you to it. “Just about an hour,” she informs you of how long you slept, and you nod. “No sign of movement from nuesta agente,” she chuckles and puts the chart back down, heading out of the room.

You sit up properly and crack your neck. Your hand has slipped from Javier’s, and you take it again, lacing your fingers through his. His fingers squeeze yours back lightly, and your eyes widen in excitement. “Javier?” you ask softly, your other hand brushing back his hair from his face. “Javi, it’s me. Connie, Lorena!” you call over your shoulder.

Javier misheard you. He’s barely conscious, and only catches half of Lorena’s name. His woozy mind processes it as a name he doesn’t want to hear- Lorraine. “No,” Javier whines softly. “No Lorraine! Aléjala de mí,” he whimpers, tossing in his bed. Whoever Lorraine is, he doesn’t want her near him, asks you to keep her away. Connie and Steve both rush in.

“¿Quién es Lorraine?” You ask softly, stroking his arm, hoping he’ll tell you who she is.

Steve and Connie both have looks of panic at hearing the name exit your lips.

“No quiero Lorraine, no!” he groans, and you rub his arm gently.

“Lorraine no está aquí, Javi. Todo es bueno, no Lorraine,” you tell him. “I’m here, Lorraine isn’t here. It’s just me, I called for Lorena,” you say her name slowly, ensuring he can tell the difference. “No Lorraine. Lori, Lo-re-na. Nuestra amiga, ¿sí?”

Javier sighs softly at that. “Oh. Eres tu. Mi ángel,” he murmurs, squeezing your hand softly. “Te quiero,” he says dazedly, his eyes fluttering open, his fingers loosening their grip. His mouth is barely curled into a smile, half-conscious. He murmurs your name, slowly and slurred and drugged as hell.

“Si, Javi. Te quiero también, te quiero muchisimo,” you say happily, tears falling from your eyes.

“Mm. Mi ángel me quiere,” he mumbles happily and his eyes close as he seems to fall back asleep, his body relaxing fully and the beeping of his heart rate slowing down.

Once Javier falls asleep, you look up at Connie and Steve. “Who the hell is Lorraine?” You whisper-shout at them.

The two of them look at each other for a second, then back at you. “Javier’s ex-fiancée,” Steve finally says. “Things ended badly for them.”

You sigh softly, nodding. “I see,” you say, turning back to him and watching him as he sleeps. You want to press them more, but you figure you’ll ask Javier about it later. You look up at Connie and your eyes water, gulping hard. “I’m so scared,” you admit, even though you know he’s going to be okay. “He’s going to hurt so bad.”

“Oh, honey,” Connie coos and squats down next to you to wipe your tears. Steve leaves the room. “I know, he is. But Javi is strong. He can do this, you know he can. Think about how goddamn stubborn he is,” she chuckles a little, and you giggle softly. “Plus, he’ll have you to help him. I think that’s all he could really want.”

“He hadn’t told me he loves me before just now,” you admit. “When we wheeled him in.”

“He meant it, I’m sure of it,” she reassures you before you can even say the words. “Do you know how protective he is over you? If Steve ever makes a joke about Javi having a girlfriend, he nearly cuts his head off,” she chuckles.

You gulp at that. That’s the second time today someone has referred to you as his girlfriend. You’re not sure if that’s true. Connie stands again and puts a hand on your shoulder. “It’s all gonna be okay, honey,” she tells you and leaves the room.

As much as you’ve appreciated the company of the Murphys and Lorena, all you want, all you need in order to feel safe right now is Javier. Of course, it’s the one thing you can’t get. He stirs again softly, and you sit up frantically in hopes that he’ll wake up again, but he remains asleep.

You lean against the wall once more, drifting in and out of sleep for about twenty minutes. There’s a soft knock on the door and Steve enters with a bag of food and a large coffee. “I ran out for some stuff,” he says quietly, putting them on the rolling table.

“You’re a godsend, Steve,” you tell him genuinely. He sets it down and you pop up to hug him, wrapping your arms around him tight. He’s taken aback, but hugs you back after a moment.

“You’d do the same for Connie if it was me,” he tells you softly and you nod. It’s true. He pats your back softly before breaking away and walking out of the room.

You take the coffee and sip at it, sighing at the taste of the warm drink. You need it, the reassurance flooding through your body as the warmth passes through your throat and settles into your stomach.

As you sip, you walk to the other side of Javier’s hospital bed. In the drawer are his personal belongings that came with him; you know that to be standard practice here. You open the drawer and find just his wallet, gun, and badge. It makes sense, you suppose. His shirt was punctured and blood soaked and had to be thrown, and it makes sense that his jeans would have been the same.

A little white corner peeks from his wallet, and you open it. Part of you feels bad for snooping, but that’s completely gone when you see what the corner belongs to.

It’s the Polaroid of you and Javier. On the bottom, on the blank white space, the date of the photo is scrawled in Javier’s hurried handwriting, a tiny heart drawn next to it. “Oh,” you gasp softly. You bite your lip to hold back tears and set down your coffee, sitting down on the edge of Javier’s bed. You cover your mouth with your hand as a sob escapes you, overwhelmed by love. You didn’t know he’d kept it with him every day, everywhere he goes. It’s simultaneously heartbreaking and elating.

“Javi,” you coo gently, pressing a kiss to his sleeping forehead. “I love you,” you murmur into his skin before sitting up again. You put the little photo back in his wallet and return to the other side of his bed, sitting in your chair.

You munch happily on the food that Steve brought you, and the doctor comes in once to check on Javier. She informs you that he looks good, as you had thought too, and that he’s going to be asleep for at least several more hours, quite some time. After that, he’ll be on intense medication to cover the pain he’ll be in. The wound was deep, and it will take a long time to recover. It’s a small miracle that it didn’t cause more injury. “I’m proud of you,” the doctor says with a soft smile. “You’re a good nurse. You didn’t let your emotions get too much in the way. If you had hesitated much longer, we might not have been so lucky.” Her words are affirming, and you shed a few happy tears at that. She leaves, once again leaving the room to just you and Javier and the white noise of the hospital.

Not long after, you fall asleep in the chair once more, curled into a ball and leaning against the wall. You sleep soundly, knowing Javier is there next to you. Everything around you feels softer this time, more soothing.

The sleep that washes over you is restful and deep; you have no dreams. Everything is soft and warm. It makes sense why you slept so well when you wake up, but it also instills a sense of panic in you: you’re not in the same place you fell asleep. You’re in a bed, somewhere you don’t recognize. “What the fuck?” You exclaim as you sit upright. “How the fuck did I get here?”

-

translations:

Hermana- sister (slang for friend)

Te quiero. Por favor, despierta para que pueda decirte eso.- I love you. Please, wake up so I can tell you that.

nuestra agente- our agent

Aléjala de mí- keep her away from me

Quién es- who is

No quiero Lorraine- I don’t want/I don’t love Lorraine (depending on context... you can decide here :))

No está aqui- is not here

Todo es bueno- it’s all good

Nuestra amiga- our friend

Eres tu- it’s you

Mi ángel- my angel

Te quiero- I love you

Si, te quiero también, te quiero muchisimo- yes, I love you too, I love you so much.

Me quiere- loves me

-

tags:

@diogodxlot @wonderlandgabby @yooforia @blo0dangel @sara-alonso @dodgerandevans @pedrosmustache @mishasminion360

[uponrightful]

You brought this on yourself 🤣 I love how you give Crosshairs point of view so often, but I gotta admit, I was wondering what Dutch was thinking here…it’s all about the spicy longing for me… so

Carefully he wrapped his arms around her, and covered her hands with his own; Caging in her upper body to stabilize the little shake of the gun by taking some of the weight off her arms.

“Confident?” He asked with a hint of mockery to hide his weakening resolve.

She settled back against him tighter, and with a resolved breath she answered;

“With you…? Definitely.”

Such a good fucking girl. He sprawled over her hips with his own, and pulled himself tight against her. Steadying his breathing just long enough to make sure she could follow it easily enough.

“Then take your shot.” He ground out heavily against the shell of her ear.

Crosshair watched the shot leave his rifle, and could already tell she’d made a direct hit. It was actually perfect, and he couldn’t help but loose his concentration from the sensation of her body jolting back against him. She’d handled it flawlessly, but he didn’t miss the little whimper that escaped her when the gun rocked back into her shoulder once again. He wanted her to take one more shot, begging for another just one more excuse to feel her underneath him. To Cross’ utter shock, Duchess began laughing happily at the mere sight of finally hitting her target.

Commentary Track for Coriolis Effect

Copy 500 words -or more- of any of my fics and I'll give you my thoughts/rambles on what was going through my head -or the character's- when I wrote it!

* send one in here *

*cracks my knuckles* "Ask and you shall recieve my loveley" I say as I chuckle deviously. In no way does my fianceé send a worried look in my direction as I start typing furiously.

***

To begin, Dutch chose to lay prone for a reason. It's actually not the best position for herself -fundementally- and she chooses to ignore that because it's how she pictures Crosshair doing it. That mental image of his shooting like this is ingrained in her mind, and Dutch has too much interest in him to try and position herself any differently. His rilfe is longer than standard, weighs at least six pounds more, his trigger is softer, and the scope sits a little too high to see from it clearly at this angle. All of that comes within seconds of holding it, but Duchess ignores all of that against her better judgement. It's a taunt, as much as it is an impulse to put herself in his preverbial shoes. She can literally feel Crosshair watching her, and althought that's a very distracting thought, Dutch is set on impressing him.

Note: This choice -of positioning- was made not just for logistics, but also because it fits her personality. Duchess isn't shy, and she is certainly not inexpereinced. I thought about this being a "standing" scene but Dutch wouldn't let me. 😅 Although she is extremely independent, her character's biggest weakness is a strong desire to impress -or be accepted. This stems not only from her time with Phantom Squad, but also from the lack of times in her life that someone has told her "good job". When she chooses to lay down, she's literally opting out of the security she would have of making an accurate shot, just to take a chance on impressing Crosshair. That's a risk/guess... But Duchess isn't afraid to try anyways.

The whole time she's actually a lot more concerned with making her shots than anything else. Constantly checking her form and doing anything she's learned in the past to prove that her size isn't a limiting factor like Crosshair says it is. Her shoulder hurts, and although it would otherwise be enough to make her stop -she has her own career effectiveness to worry about- Dutch isn't leaving until dominates this gun. It's not until she hears Crosshair's sigh that it clicks in her mind that he's still watching her struggle, but not taken the oppertunity to stop her from continuing.

Note: Weapons mirror their users. And when I created Duchess, I made the serious decision that a lot of her ability to characterize others would come from their armor and weapons. That's just who she is, and what she knows best. So, in this scene... Dutch is literally equating Crosshair's rilfe, as to a part of him. If it's harsh, that means he is as well... If it's a sensitive model, that says something about Cross. If she can't control it easily, that's an indicator of the man who wields it. Really pay attetion to the way I compare Crosshair to his 'Puncher throughout the fic. I do it with extreme purpose, and although it's not always easy to spot, there are many times I allude to their symbiotic nature.

The moment Crosshair is close enough to touch, all of that subtle teasing about his weapon from earlier is gone. Ultimatley, Duchess can have a smart mouth, and know how exactly how to use it. But Cross presents a whole new kind of intimidation that she doesn't know how to handle. For Duchess, power only comes in two ways: Physical Prowess, or Rank -wheather that by government facilitated, or sibling rank due to the Phantoms. She's never experienced the way Crosshair acts twoards her. Duchess knows he respects her -because of he he listens to her seriously- but he also challenges her to do things she'd be otherwise criticized for with a hint of disbelief. (Like mouthing off, or betting that she couldn't shoot his rifle, despite that being against regulation.)

The moment he puts his leg between hers, Dutch is a ball of nervousness. Sex is nothing new to her, but that kind of confidence in particular, is completely foreign. Normally she's the one who initiates things like physical dominance in personal space. Dutch is so caught off guard, and her whole body freezes up, because she's realising that she likes Crosshair doing that. It's a release of power that she's constantly holding up, and that kind of vulnerability is hard to let go of after making such a habit of about being the strong one. After all, since Phantom Squad, she's had to depend on herself alone.

It's when he grabs ahold of her jaw and tells her to relax that she's really down bad. 🥵 She knows it should be nothing but a technical comment on her form, but he's commanding about it . Literally ordering her to let go, and release that tension. That feels fucking amazing to hear and feel, coming from a stoic guy like Crosshair. She knows his rifle is harsh, and occasionally he is as well; But that's becoming all the more desirable the more he directs her. Pushing her down against the floor, guiding her back against him... Doing simple things, but silently demanding she follow his orders. Duchess doesn't have to do anything -or think about anything- other than letting him take the lead, and she's daydreaming about if he's like that in other areas.

Note: Duchess takes a fully submissive role here. She's fully receptive to Crosshair's leadership, and it's because she enjoys being thought of as weak -or little- on occasion. Her background is full of war accolades, and confidential missions she knows to be successful. All of it culminating in this unspoken war register of a badass woman who fights like a clone trooper. But that's not realistic to uphold all of the time. Everyone likes to be taken care of sometimes, and Duchess just happens to really like someone taking control every once and a while. And with Crosshair, she feels safe enough to let that happen, and also enjoy the sexual aspect she's been thinking about all this time as well.

Duchess admits to feeling confident with him here for two reasons. Number one, she's still trying to be a little teasing. It's natural to have a little fight in her all the time, and with Crosshair, she thinks that flusters him. (She's right by the way...) But secondly, it's her desire to show trust. Crosshair might be fit right up against her, whispering sexual innuendos in her ear, but Dutch ultimately feels safe like this . The rifle isn't going to hurt as bad, she's going to hit the target, and Crosshair's weight is emotionally grounding. They might be attempting to do some target practice, but Duchess is literally getting the equivalent of a weighted blanket and reassurance that her true self isn't unworthy of attention. Plus, it's coming from a man who otherwise appears completely disregarding of anything with a noticable flaw... That's something Dutch will never forget. The best sniper in the GAR is helping her... And he's happy to do so, by getting as up-close and personal as a man could get.

His hands cover her own, rough and calloused, but they're unbelievably gentle. Cross is almost hesitant, and Duchess can tell he's actively trying to ease her tension. The way he speaks is soft, and quiet... Making her feel like jelly. Being asked to follow his breathing pattern, his arms tight around her, legs somewhat twisted into hers, his thigh tight against her core... It's all seductive, and essentially surrounding her body with him. And Dutch can't help but eat it up. She wants more. No one has ever done something so simple, but effective in drawing out her desire to think of herself as something worth coddling -in a sense.

Duchess might hit that target in the end... But the only reason she did was because Crosshair had relaxed her enough so he could aim . (She didn't make that shot. Crosshair did all the work, she just pulled the trigger.) It was the first time Duchess felt like she was being tended to fully, and that's that had her acting so lighthearted at the end.

***

I fucking love writing these. Please don't ever stop sending them in!😅🤍

[on-maars]

Home It Is, Then

Alright, I gifted this fic for @evanbucxley because that help my life (be worth your while) series was a rollercoaster of emotions and I absolutely loved it. I wanted to contribute to the Religious Guilt Eddie Diaz idea and here’s my work :)

It’s not that angsty, quite soft at times even, if you want to take your mind off things before that finale. 

Hope you’ll like it!

READ ON AO3

When he was a little kid, Eddie used to go to Church every Sunday.

Along the years, it became a ritual. A ritual Eddie didn’t really dare to cast doubt on. This was just it. It was just the way he was raised and so Eddie continued going without objecting, without asking questions. And boys did he have some.

At first, it was simple questions. Simple questions with easy answers. Answers Eddie was taking for granted.

What does God look like? Why did He create people? Why can’t we see Him? Did He have any friends? Does He ever get lonely up there? Were there dinosaurs in the Ark?

And for a while, Eddie was happy. He was satisfied with the answers. They made sense. They were logical, and if his parents and the different priests said so, then they also had to be true, right? But then Eddie grew older, and as he grew older, the questions became more complex, more intricate, filled with confusion, wonder and doubt.

How can I trust what the bible says is true? If there is a God, then why is there so much suffering? Isn’t the chaos of the world a sign of God’s absence?

His brain was filled with them. His brain was filled with questions and hesitations and Eddie didn’t know how to make sense of them. It didn’t help that the answers were not that easy anymore. They were vague and confusing and Eddie needed clearness, he needed stability and he needed control.

And Eddie’s not so prejudiced as to think that every Christian believer out there is deemed to be narrow-minded and intolerant but that was just another aspect he could have added to the list of things that used to make him uncomfortable about the religion, how some of the most faithful members of his Church used to act, used to judge other people for being the way they were.

It wasn’t rare for Eddie to hear some disturbing comments here and there. It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t insistent. But it was there. It was weird allusions in sermons, hurtful insults in the school playground, remarks flowing in high-school hallways. Eddie couldn’t get them out of his head, and it just brought about a new series of question.

How can a loving God send anyone in Hell? How can someone be seen as ‘less than’ just because of the way they love?

Eddie didn’t like these questions. He didn’t like these questions and he liked the answers even less. And so he did the only thing that appeared to be the most sensible at that time. He started distancing himself from the religion, started skipping a few masses, a few Sundays, until his absence from his church became something more permanent, more constant.

Eddie left without looking back, practiced his faith privately, buried these questions somewhere far, far, in the back of his mind, and never really thought anything of it again.

That until he settled in Los Angeles. Until he met Buck.

And then the questions came back. They came back slowly, and then all at once.

1.

The first time it happens, it’s small. So small Eddie barely notices it.

They’re in the car. They both finished a 24 hours shift and Eddie is so tired it’s a chore just keeping his eyes open. His head rests gently on the window and his mouth slowly turns up at the edges when he realizes Buck’s been driving very gently and avoiding the holes on the road to make sure he can sleep on the way home.

He’s not sleeping though. He can’t. There are so many things he still needs to do, doing the laundry, helping Christopher with his homework, tidying the living-room that is slowly becoming a battlefield filled with Legos bricks, books about space (Christopher’s new obsession) and cars. He needs to take care of everything. He needs to take care of everything before his parents come and visit this week-end.

This was supposed to be a surprise visit – they said. We want to see our grandson . And Eddie understands. He understands his parents’ need to see his son. He understands their obsession in trying to help him. He knows it comes from a place of kindness and generosity but he can barely keep it together on a good day, he doesn’t even want to know how he would have reacted if his parents had decided to show up unannounced.

And that’s why he can’t sleep. That’s why he can’t sleep and needs to be sure that everything is taken care of before his parents show up. The last thing he wants is to give them more reasons to complain about his lifestyle and continue to think that Christopher will be better off without him.

Eddie sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose with his fingers, glancing towards Buck. His eyes fall on his best-friend’s arms and that’s when it happens. Just like that. There’s no warning, no sign, and it hits him like a tons of bricks.

He wants to hold his hand.

He wants to hold Buck’s hand.

He wants to intertwine their fingers together and rest them on his thigh.

He wants to hold it so bad it makes his own hand itchy.

But he doesn’t. Of course he doesn’t. Because that would be weird, right? That would be crossing a line. We’re just friends – he thinks. And just friends don’t do that. Sure, they hug each other, sometimes. They hug each other, they laugh together and they’re here when the other needs it but they don’t hold hands. They don’t hold hands.

“You doing okay, Eds?” Buck says and his voice is so soft Eddie almost hates him for it. Because his chest suddenly fills with warmth and Eddie doesn’t understand where it comes from. He doesn’t understand where it comes from and that scares him. And so he doesn’t mention it and pretends it never happened.

“Yeah.” He says, but his face betrays him. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just lots of stuff to think about. With-”

“With your parents.” Buck finishes with a knowing smile and Eddie can’t stop himself from smiling back at him. Because it’s his best-friend, right there. His best-friend who always knows what’s going on inside his head, his best-friend who sometimes even understands him better than he understands himself.

Eddie nods and suddenly Buck parks his car next to his house. He wants to move but his body feels like cement. Every single one of his muscles is as heavy as lead and he barely has time to register they’ve made it home that Buck is already opening the passenger’s door, unfastening his seat-belt and guiding him towards the house.

It’s quiet. Christopher is not home yet. He’s still at school and Carla is taking him home today. Eddie takes off his shoes and throws them away, sighing at the mess around him. He’s about to lean down to start picking toys but then he can feel Buck’s hand on his waist and his whole body freezes. And he doesn’t know if it’s something that Buck always does, he doesn’t know if it’s something that is completely normal in their relationship and that he’s only freaking out since his weird awakening in the car, but the thing is that he still freezes. His entire body tenses.

Not because he doesn’t like it. Quite the contrary. The only thing he really wants is to lean in on the touch and feel his best-friend’s strong arms around his back.

“Hey, none of that.” Buck says gently. “Go to bed. Take a nap. I’ll tidy everything, do the laundry and prepare something to eat for you guys.”

“Buck, you’re tired too, I can’t ask you to do that.” Eddie disagrees but his body is already swaying. Fortunately for him, Buck is here to catch him and one second later, Eddie’s chin is resting on his shoulder, unable to stop himself from breathing in the scent of what he guesses is smoke and Buck’s aftershave.

“You’re not asking.” Buck answers. “I offered. I’ll be gone when you wake up.”

“You can stay.” Eddie remarks. “Christopher’ll be thrilled.”

“Is he the only one who’ll be thrilled?” Buck asks, and Eddie can hear the hesitation in his voice. “If I stay, I mean.”

“I’m always happy when you stay.” Eddie admits, too tired to even register the words coming out of his mouth.

“Alright. Then I'll stay.”

2.

The second time it happens, Eddie’s in denial.

He’s sitting on the couch, Buck by his side. It’s been a long, hard shift and they’re all trying to make the best of the few restful minutes they have. The alarm hasn’t rung out again yet and Eddie is silently praying that it won’t until he can get home to Christopher.

Eddie tries to hold back a yawn as he sweeps the room with his eyes. Chimney is slumped on the sofa, his phone in his right hand and a small smile on his face. There’s only one person who can make him smile that way. Maddie.

Hen is also seated, but at the table. There is a book placed in front of her but from the way her eyes keep checking at her watch, Eddie knows he’s not the only one hoping for a calm, uneventful end of shift. Bobby is nowhere to be seen but the door to his office is ajar, meaning he’s most certainly inside and taking care of the boring, administrative part of the job.

And then, there’s Buck. Buck, strangely focused on a book about space Christopher recommended to him a week before. His arm is wrapped around Eddie’s shoulders and Eddie would be lying if he said the way Buck’s fingers absentmindedly trace small patterns on his chest isn’t comforting. It is, and Eddie almost wishes he’d never stop.

I don’t want him to stop – he thinks. And here it is again. That feeling. That weird, gut-wrenching sensation. He doesn’t understand it. And he’s not sure he even wants to.

Because he knows, deep down. He knows that the reason why he always feels so safe and comfortable whenever Buck is around isn’t so far-fetched and out of reach. It’s a pretty obvious reason, really. It’s simple. Easy. But Eddie’s not quite sure he’s ready to face all the consequences and the intimate and personal soul-searching questions that come along with it.

And so he stays silent and says nothing, still hoping that if he denies it for a considerable amount of time then that feeling will just go away on its own.

But then, Buck slowly extricates himself from his embrace and Eddie straight-up whines at the loss of physical contact and suddenly there’s nothing more he wants but for the ground to swallow him whole.

But Buck doesn’t judge him, oh no. And that may be the worst part. The way his best-friend always seems to be gentle, cautious, soft when it comes to Eddie. This time isn’t any different. A small smile slowly creeps on his face and Buck turns his head around, presses a small kiss on his hair, his right hand on his chest.

“Be right back, Eds.” He says, and takes a few steps towards the stairs.

Eddie sighs and only realizes his eyes are closed when he hears the small snort coming from Chimney. He opens them again and finds his friend watching him with a knowing expression on his face.

“So have you told him, yet?” Chimney asks. His tone is teasing and Eddie frowns.

“Told him what?” Eddie inquiries, his voice fragile. He doesn’t want to go there. Not yet. Not here.

“You do know he’s only waiting for you to acknowledge what’s already there, right?” His co-worker asks and that’s all it takes for Eddie’s breathing to become ragged, erratic.

Suddenly, the room is smaller. The room is smaller and Eddie’s pretty sure he’s going to suffocate if he stays here any longer.

“Hey, wah Eddie I was- I was kidding. I just thought that with the way you were acting, maybe you’d-”

“Chim.” Hen warns him and takes a few careful steps towards Eddie.

“Eddie-”

“I can’t do this.” Eddie cuts in. “I can’t do this, right now. I’m sorry.” He says, and goes down the stairs as fast as he can.

Once outside, he starts crying.

3.

The third time it happens, it’s more earth-shattering for Eddie.

He’s in the locker-room. He just came out of the shower and he's slowly getting dressed, satisfied when the comforting fabric of his civilian clothes touch his skin. It’s always been therapeutic for him, slipping on his clothes after a long day at work. There’s nothing quite like it. It feels like coming back home. He can finally let go of all the things he’s seen during his shift and focus on the other parts of his life. His son. His friends. His hobbies.

He loves his job, wouldn’t trade it for anything else in the world. But god only knows how much he needs the breaks sometimes.

He’s putting on his jumper and is about to do the same with his shoes but that’s when he sees him. Buck. His friend seemingly only got out from the shower and he’s walking towards him with only a towel covering his waist.

And Eddie should be fine. He should be fine. He’s seen his friend naked a thousand times before and it’s no news to him that Buck is good-looking but this time is different. This time, Eddie’s all hot and bothered and finds himself daydreaming about pining his best-friend to the locker and kissing straight on the mouth.

“Enjoying the view?” Buck teases him, and Eddie wants to huff out a laugh. He wants to tease him back like he always does but he’s incapable of pronouncing the slightest words. How can he? How can he while the part of himself he’s been trying so hard to conceal all those years threaten to burst out of him and expose his heart to the rest of the world? He can’t.

“I need to go.” He says. Because right now, the easy way out is to flee. Again.

“Eds, I was only kid-”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Buck.” He cuts in, rushing to put on his shoes and take his bag. He slams the door of his locker and locks himself in his car, driving until he’s back home, safe.

4.

The fourth time it happens, it’s during a conversation Eddie has with Hen.

It was supposed to be a simple conversation. They were both seated at Bobby and Athena’s table, exchanging small talks and jokes in-between.

The 118 all decided to gather together to celebrate Chimney’s birthday and everything was going great. Everything was going great. Hen was telling him all about Denny’s experience in eighth grade and how this one was thrilled at the idea of seeing Christopher again tonight. Everything was going great, that’s why Eddie doesn’t understand why he finds himself blurting out these next few words.

“When did you realize you were into girls?” Eddie asks, and instantly regrets saying them. But it’s too late, now. They’re out in the open and he can’t take them back. And from the way Hen looks at him with a soft expression, she’s just happy he’s finally brave enough to open up.

“I’ve never really had a grand awakening like you can see in movies or series.” Hen says. “I guess it was just – always there. In a way. When I grew up, I could see that while all my friends were talking about boys, my attention was just more focused on girls.” She adds, keeping her voice low. She knows how important and new that talk is to Eddie, and she wants to create a safe space, a safe place where Eddie is free to voice all his fears, all his worries.

And Eddie’s grateful. He’s just not so sure if he’s ready to move forward with that conversation, nor if Bobby and Athena’s house is the most suited place to do that.

“Why do you ask?” She eventually asks, giving him the choice to retract or to dig in a bit deeper.

“I just-” Eddie starts but the words get stuck in his throat once again. “I-” He tries again, and fails a second time. He bites his lower lip and closes his eyes fiercely for a few seconds, trying to muster enough courage. In vain.

In the end, he realizes he doesn’t need to say anything. His eyes do it for him. They fall on Buck who’s seated on the ground with Christopher and Denny, seemingly very engrossed in whatever game they’re playing. It’s sweet – Eddie decides. His best-friend has always been so good and comfortable around kids and Eddie still remembers him saying that he probably would have ended up being a teacher if it wasn’t for his vocation as a firefighter.

Buck seems to feel his gaze on him because the next second, this one looks up and offers him one of these smiles. One of these soft smiles that makes Eddie feel all warm and at peace. He wishes it could stop. But it doesn’t. It doesn’t and against his better judgment Eddie finds himself smiling when his best-friend mouths “ you okay? ” in his direction. He nods, and lowers his eyes down.

“Eddie.” Hen starts, her tone carefully controlled. “I’m pretty sure he’d be ready to wait a lifetime if you’d ask him to.”

And it’s supposed to be comforting words, Eddie knows that, but it only fills him with even more unease and anxiety.

How much time does he still need? How much time until he realizes there’s nothing wrong with feeling that way?

Having the possibility to ask him such a huge thing doesn’t mean he should.

5.

The fifth time it happens, it’s Eddie’s fault.

They’re in his kitchen. Christopher is away having a sleepover at one of his friend’s and they have the house to themselves.

Eddie is slowly stirring his Abuela’s chicken soup while Buck is seated on the counter, teasing him and guiding him through the recipe with that bossy tone of his.

And Eddie? Well Eddie is done for.

“Are you planning on helping me or not?” Eddie asks, rolling his eyes at his friend when Buck leans over to make sure Eddie is following the recipe to the letter.

“Nop.” He smiles. “I quite like seeing you all flustered.” He adds, and there’s an implicit meaning behind his words that makes Eddie’s heart flutter. And he doesn’t understand what pushes him to say what he answers next. Maybe it’s the way Buck looks at him. Maybe it’s the accumulated unresolved tension that seems to linger in the atmosphere whenever they’re together. Maybe it’s just another one of his boosts of confidence.

“Oh yeah?” Eddie dares saying after a few seconds, raising his eyebrows in a suggested manner. Buck seems surprised. He opens his eyes wide but then a soft smile stretches his lips and his face softens. Eddie knows what it all means. He’s been friends with him for three years and he has quickly become an expert when it comes to Buck’s silent communication.

It’s an invitation. An invitation to finally acknowledge the elephant in the room and to take their relationship to the next level. And Eddie’s not sure if he’s ready. He’s not sure if he’s ready but then Buck spreads his legs a bit more apart than they were a few seconds ago and Eddie’s common sense goes up in smoke. He surges forward and slips in-between Buck’s legs to crash their lips together.

It’s not gentle. It’s heated and it’s desperate and it’s filled with a sense of urgency. And Buck doesn’t waste any second to kiss him back with just as much vigor. He cups Eddie’s cheeks with his hands and brings him closer, biting his lower lip to demand access to his mouth, which the other man just accepts. Their tongues fight for dominance for a while, a battle that each of them are more than happy to participate in. Buck hums slightly against his mouth and Eddie is pretty sure it’s just another one of his very vivid dreams.

Except that it’s not. It’s very real and Eddie’s hands are everywhere. On Buck’s shoulders, on his neck, on his hair, on his waist. It’s everywhere and Eddie suddenly struggles to breathe. He’s breathless and panting and the next thing he knows, tears are rolling down his cheeks. They’re still kissing but it doesn’t take Buck more than a minute to realize he’s crying. He cradles his chin gently and breaks the kiss, wiping his tears with his thumbs.

“Hey.” He says.

“I’m sorry.” Eddie starts. “I’m sorry, I just-”

“I know.” Buck only answers, and it’s like his eyes are piercing through his very soul. “I know.” He repeats, sealing their lips in another kiss. This time, it’s gentler, softer, and if Eddie’s right hand slips underneath Buck’s shirt and wraps itself around his waist, well then nobody needs to know about it, only Buck. Only Buck, who smiles and just throws his shirt over his head, discarding it on the floor.

Buck is still seated on the kitchen counter and when their lips connect again, Eddie places his hands on Buck’s thighs, moaning against his lips when his friend runs his hands through his hair, pulling down at his locks.

And this would have been fine. This would have been fine if Buck hadn’t moved his arms from his hair to his waist, bringing them closer until their crotches touch. Because then Eddie is suddenly hit with the realization of what they’re currently doing. He’s kissing his best-friend. He’s making out with his best-friend and he’s obviously undeniably turned on. His body jumps with surprise and as if electrocuted by his touch, Buck’s hands suddenly disappear from his body, giving him space.

Eddie takes a step back as if struck by lightning, watching his best-friend with his mouth agape. Buck is staring at him, too. His hair disheveled, his cheeks red and his lips swollen. Eddie doubts he’s in a much better state and the panic is suddenly boiling in his chest. It’s not a light stressed feeling he often has when he’s on a call, oh no. It’s a full blown panic attack that makes his heart’s beat go faster until it’s the only thing he can feel, a deep and earth-shattering anxiety that makes him feel dizzy.

“I need to go.” He blurts out.

“Eddie, wait.” Buck says, catching his wrist with his hand. “You don’t need to go. We can talk about it. Whatever you need.”

“I-” Eddie starts but his eyes start watering again. “I can’t. I’m sorry. I need to go.” He repeats, rushing outside.

There, he walks. He walks, ignoring the way Buck is still calling out his name from the porch. He walks and walks and walks, and ignores how the rain pounds harsh against him, soaking him to the bones. He walks until his steps lead him to Bobby’s house. It’s quiet. The house is silent but there’s still a light on in the living-room and that’s what pushes Eddie to knock on the door a few times. His gestures are slow and weak and for a moment, Eddie wonders if someone heard him but then the door is being pushed open and Bobby’s there, watching him, his eyes filled with confusion, and worry.

“Eddie? What are you doing here?” He asks. “Everything okay?”

+1

“I- I kissed Buck.” He blurts out.

A flash of understanding crosses his Captain’s eyes and he moves to the side to invite him in. Eddie takes a few steps inside and ignores the way Athena looks at him with compassion before disappearing in their bedroom. Because he doesn’t want compassion. He doesn’t want pity. He wants to understand. He wants to understand what’s going on inside his own head.

“Does he know you’re here?” Bobby asks. “Buck. Does he know you’re here?”

Eddie shakes his head, watching Bobby sighs as he takes his cellphone from his back pocket, most likely to send a quick text to Buck and puts an end to his endless anxious thoughts.

Athena comes back from the room with a fresh towel and a pair of sweatpants and an old jumper, probably belonging to Bobby. Eddie thanks her silently and locks himself in the bathroom, discarding his clothes in the laundry basket. He sighs and dries his body as much as he can before getting dressed with his captain’s clothes. He comes back in the living-room and rubs his wet hair with the towel.

“Sit down.” Bobby tells him, pointing at the chair. Eddie complies and looks down at his hands, his fingers twitching. He closes his eyes and bites his lower lip to hold back the sobs that threaten to rack his body any second.

“I kissed him, Cap.” He repeats, his voice weak, his eyes staring at Bobby, almost pleadingly. Pleading for what, he doesn’t know, but pleading all the same. “I kissed him, and then I- I freaked out. I freaked out and I left him there all alone and I just fled.”

“Why did you freak out?” Bobby asks, his eyes filled with understanding.

“I don’t know!” Eddie exclaims, huffing out a nervous laugh. “I don’t know, I-”

“Is it something he did that made you uncomfortable?”

“No!” Eddie instantly answers. “No, he was- it’s Buck, Bobby, he just- as soon as he saw I was starting to freak out, he just stopped. And I started it. I kissed him. Hell I wanted to kiss him.”

“Were you scared?” Athena intervenes. “Because it’s okay if you were, Eddie." She adds, and then speaks again, more carefully: "This is- This is new to you, right?”

“No. I mean yes.” He says, closing his eyes fiercely for a few seconds. “It was just… I’m not new to the kissing game obviously, even if it was only with… Only with girls. Why would a guy be any different, though?” He asks, mostly to himself. “I don’t understand why I’m so- Am I being homophobic?” He opens his eyes wide, panic clearly shown on his face. “Oh my god, I am, aren’t I? But I don’t-”

“Eddie.” Bobby cuts in. “You’re not being homophobic. Or maybe you are. But not in the sense you’re thinking of.”

“How many senses are there in being homophobic, Bobby? Either you are or you’re not, this is ridiculous.” Eddie snaps. Bobby marks a pause, looks at Athena for a few seconds and speaks again when she nods.

“Eddie, have you ever felt any different around Hen?” He asks, and Eddie shakes his head. “Did you ever view her any differently just because she’s attracted to girls or because she’s married to a woman?”

“No, of course not.” Eddie instantly answers.

“And what about you?” Athena asks.

“What about me?” Eddie repeats, confused.

“Have you ever viewed yourself differently because you’re attracted to Buck? Because you’re attracted to a man?” Athena adds, and Eddie’s breath catches in his throat.

For a few seconds, a deep silence settles in the room. “I- I guess.” He admits. “Yes.” He adds, more confidently. “I just- The way I was raised, it- it was very traditional. It’s always been that way and it- it doesn’t let you much of a choice.” He explains. “My parents, they- they weren’t homophobic. I mean, I don’t think they were. Not outwardly, at least. Not on purpose. But- there just never was any option for me. I was- I was just supposed to be straight. Everything else, it- it didn’t matter. It didn’t exist. Not really.”

“Eddie, you probably internalized a lot of homophobia throughout the years. Even without knowing.” Bobby says carefully. “It only makes sense that it’s so hard for you to accept the fact that you like another man. That you like Buck.”

“I don’t like him.” Eddie shakes his head. “I- I'm pretty sure I’m in love with him.”

Athena smiles. “This boy makes it hard not to fall in love with him.” She adds, and Eddie huffs out a laugh, wiping the tears with the sleeve of his jumper. Bobby’s jumper.

“Right?” Eddie nods knowingly. “He’s bloody annoying, though. And stubborn as hell. And god, sometimes he really can be a pain in the ass but it’s-”

“It’s Buck.” Bobby finishes for him, smiling.

“Yeah.” Eddie nods. “It’s Buck.” He adds. “God, I really screwed up, didn’t I?”

“Nah.” His Captain only says. “I think you’re okay. I mean from the…” He says, taking his cellphone in his hands. “15? No. 16 messages I just received from him, I’m pretty confident in saying that you’re already forgiven. He just worries about you.”

“Of course he does.” Eddie complains, lowering his eyes. “As I said. Bloody annoying.” He repeats, quieter, and this earns him a few laughter from Athena and Bobby.

“You want to be with him, right?” Athena asks, and Eddie’s pretty sure that’s the easiest question he’s been asked in his entire life.

“Yeah.” He answers. “Yeah, of course I want to be with him.” He admits. “I’m just scared. Anxious. Embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed?”

“I’m a grown man, Athena. I’m a grown ass man and I- I'm pretty sure I’ve always known, deep down, that I was- that I was gay. Or at least I think that I knew. I was just trying to convince myself that I wasn’t. And I- God I almost did it. I almost did it. And I- Besides that, I’m just bad at- I’m bad at this relationship thing, man. I’m not sure- I’m not sure it’s for me. Maybe it isn’t. And Buck, he- he just loves so freely, you know? So freely and so… So openly. How can I compete with that? He’s going to get sick of me. It’s just a matter of time.” Eddie goes on and whirls his head around when he hears Bobby snort.

“Eds, Buck’s like my kid and trust me when I say that he would never get sick of you even if you tried.” Bobby says. “Eddie, he loves you and Chris to the moon and back and nothing’s going to change that. You’re it for him.”

“The amount of times we had to sit through his rants about you guys.” Athena rolls her eyes. “It’s actually quite sickening. How much he holds the both of you dear to his heart.”

Eddie runs one of his hands through his hair. There’s only one thing left to do. He stands up and is about to reach for his cellphone when he realizes he’s left it on the kitchen table. He bites his lower lip and sighs at the idea of Buck pacing back and forth in his living-room, worried sick about him.

“I should probably go back there, right?” Eddie asks, and there’s a few knocks on the door at the same time.

“Pretty sure he beat you to it.” Bobby remarks and he doesn’t need to walk towards the front door that this one is already wide open and Buck comes rushing in the living-room, his eyes wide, until he catches Eddie’s gaze and only then his entire face softens.

His eyes shuttle back and forth as if performing an internal scan of Eddie’s face, making sure he’s not hurt, making sure he’s safe. Eddie smiles softly at him and he nods.

“I’m okay.” He says.

“Thank god.” Buck breathes, crossing the few feet separating them with a quick step to engulf him into a bone crushing hug. He lets his hand run through his hair a few times and Eddie closes his eyes, burying his face in the crook of his neck.

“Sorry I ran away from you like that, I- I freaked out.” He admits and only smiles when Buck presses his lips against his hair.

“Doesn’t matter. You’re here now.” He says, his teasing mode switched to standby mode. And that’s another thing Eddie loves about him. Buck always knows perfectly well how to act around him, when to push him, when to tease him and more importantly when to stop. This is one of those moments and Buck is aware of it. There’s not the slightest tease in his tone, not the slightest hint of amusement, only comfort.

Bobby and Athena are both gone and Eddie is grateful for the privacy they both decided to give them.

“So you’re good, yeah?” Buck asks.

“Yeah.” Eddie answers. “Yeah. All good.” He adds, smiling when Buck’s hands cup his cheeks once again, pecking him on the lips.

“What’s going on then? How can I help?” Buck instantly asks, his brows furrowed with concern.

“Well as stupid as it sounds, I just freaked out because- because of the ‘guy’ thing.”

“Are you trying to tell me I’m your gay awakening?” Buck says, and his teasing mode is back on, which only makes Eddie laugh, rolling his eyes at him.

“That’s exactly what I’m trying to say.” Eddie smiles.

“Well, it’s not stupid.” Buck adds softly. “Far from it.” He insists. “If you need time to figure it out, I’m more than happy to give it to you. Otherwise, we can just go as slow or as fast as you want. You pick the pace. I’ll be right next to you, either way. Okay?” Buck asks.

“Okay.” Eddie answers, tracing Buck’s birthmark with his thumb.

“What do you wanna do, right now?”

“Home.” Eddie instantly says. “I wanna go back home.”

“Alright, then.” Buck smiles. “Home it is, then."

Home it is, then.

[tpwkxxangel]

Side A: Track 2

//hi! so i have finals this next week, so i thought i’d updated sooner rather than later! thank you for the kind comments on the last update too!! Okay, now onto the story! here is the masterlist//

~~~

June 2018

"Jeffery!?" Harry calls from his dressing room.

It's been two weeks since Harry meet his kiwi girl again for the first time in two years, and she has not left his mind since. The morning of the sunrise, they grabbed breakfast before she dropped him off at his hotel. He got a total of two hours of sleep before he had to get to the airport to fly down to Houston, but he couldn't complain at all. He was so happy to finally feel something other than sadness again. He slept the rest of the day after getting to his new hotel. His dreams were filled with the intoxicating green-eyed girl.

With Harry being back to his happy self, everyone has taken notice. Jeff of course has been asking about the mysterious girl and why Harry seems so much happier after their night together. Harry hasn't said a single word about that night, just that she's an old friend that he is thankful for running into her. Everyone can tell she's a little more than just an old friend to the singer by the way his attitude lifted from spending one evening with her.

The moment the sun rose into the sky that morning, Janis brought a light into his life that he never knew he needed. And today was the day Harry would see his sunshine again.

They have been messaging back and forth for the last few days. He's learned a lot about her. She got her undergraduate degree from Columbia in mathematics and was placed in an accelerated program that is allowing her to get her masters at the end of December. He now can confirm that she is full of intellect. She's from the Dallas area and her parents are socialites who own a business that has many locations across the US. They wanted her to take it over, since she is the oldest of three, but it was never her calling. Her twin brother takes after their father and is following in his footsteps instead.

Harry talked about his life too. He told her crazy stories about the times he spent in one direction goofing off in hotel rooms. He also talked about how his life was pure chaos for five years but how he wouldn't take it back for anything.

One night when they were on the phone, they opened up about past relationships. They both are starting to let their guards down and Harry couldn't be happier. He wants to get to know more about Janis every time he talks to her. There is no rational reason why this girl would make him feel the way she does, but it's amazing.

"Most people are intimidated by my intelligence. People had this idea of who I was before they even knew me," she scoffed, "They often underestimated me when I was placed in the more advanced classes, so when I open my mouth and add to the conversation, people will get turned off by someone like me," she continued nervously answering Harry's question of why she hasn't been in a real relationship before. There was something else in her voice that told him there was more to the story than she was leading on.

"To be honest, I've had some of the same issues. I think everyone believes that I am just a pretty face that can kind of sing," he chuckled.

"You are a pretty face, and you can sing, but you are so much more than that Harry," J giggles softly into the phone.

"Thank you love," Harry felt himself blushing at her kind words. "Knowledge has been something that I value above all else. Since I never went to college, I try to read as much as I can. That way, I can participate in deep conversations with people and expand my mind," he responded. Just because Harry left school a little early doesn't mean he doesn't value intelligence.

Her golden laughter tickled Harry’s ears and made him smile. "That's so wise, Mr. Styles." Every time she talks to him, she sounds just like a melody. Her voice is beyond sweet and he will never get enough of her giggles.

A knock on the door pulls Harry out of his thoughts.

"You alright, Hersh?" Jeffery walks into the dressing room breaking Harry out of his thoughts.

"Do I look okay?" He looks towards his manager. This will be the first time Harry is performing for J and he wants it to be absolutely perfect.

"You're missing your jacket," Jeff points out while sending off an email on his phone.

Harry’s eyes grow big as he lets out a big gasp. That's what's wrong! Where did he set it down? The last time he had it was in the green room. Maybe it's still in there?

Harry quickly rushes out only to bump into someone. He quickly reaches around the person's waist to stabilize them. The girl lets out a laugh and Harry's face flushes knowing exactly who that giggle belongs to.

"'Ello, love," he smiles shyly.

Janis smiles while bringing her arms up and around his neck. "Hello, Harry," she hums back, touching their noses softly together.

Harry's eyes flutter shut for a moment before he meets her eyes again. "Sorry for running into ya, I'm a bit of a mess before the show," he admits with a sigh. He has performed some of the biggest venues, but nothing compared to his nerves now. He wanted to impress this girl between his arms. The way her perfume consumes his senses makes him feel a high he never want to come down from.

She looks at his flushed cheeks and can see how embarrassed he is starting to get. "It's okay. I'm a bit of a mess too," she whispers as if it was their little secret, and her words instantly dissolve his nerves.

He glances down at her lips wanting nothing more than to kiss her. Just as he starts to lean in, Jeff walks out causing both of them to freeze and look at him. The manager's eyebrows are raised, and Harry instantly drops his arms from around his sunshine's waist. He misses her warmth already.

Janis looks between the two before recognition crosses her beautiful features. She unhooks her arms from around his neck slowly. "You must be Jeffery," she holds out her hand to shake, "I'm Harry's friend J." Harry doesn't like that term. Friend. Maybe that will change soon?

Jeff finally places where he's seen her before. In the dark club, he only saw her dress and hair. "Ah, so you're the girl that's got H so distracted lately," he rolls his eyes playfully before moving out of the way from Harry's shove, "You can just call me Jeff."

Her laugh sounds through the halls of the stadium. It instantly brings Harry a fuzzy, warm feeling. "To be honest, he's occupied my mind just as much," she smiles at the blushing boy.

"I'm so glad you made it," Harry turns to her with a relieved sigh. Jeff takes that as his cue to give them a moment.

Harry finally takes in what she's wearing. She's in a white two piece, accented with golden jewelry. The color complements her tanned skin. Her blonde hair is straight tonight and frames her face just right. Instead of her red lipstick, she has pink gloss on that makes her lips that much more intriguing.

"I'm excited to see you perform," she replies.

"You'll be in the VIP section. I know you said that you can't be in super crowded places, so having you there will be less people." He was a little nervous about her being at the concert when she told him about not being able to be in the pit at a concert. She promised him it wasn't as serious as it sounded, but his sunshine was slowly growing on him so he was bound to worry.

"That's very sweet of you," she says with a soft look crossing her features. She has never had someone listen to her as intently as Harry has the past few days. It's a nice change to feel heard.

They both look down the hall where his entire band is laughing and heading their way. Adam stops short and looks at the girl standing next to Harry. He can't place where he knows her from. He looks over to the singer’s face and sees him cringing. When it hits him, he lets out the loudest cackle which makes Janis jump slightly.

"Isn't that Kiw--" he starts, but Harry talks over him.

"This is J! She's super cool!" he shouts. This couldn't be more awkward for him. He's going to tell her about the song, but maybe after they start dating so he doesn't seem as desperate. Imagine having a song written about you by a complete stranger who is trying to start a relationship with you…it sounds a little stalkery.

Everyone looks at him oddly before J breaks the silence. "Hello. It's nice to meet you all. I've heard a lot about you guys from Harry." On one of their late night calls, Harry went on and on about his bandmates. They both ended up in tears from laughing so hard after Harry told her about their adventure on the road so far.

"Hi, I'm Adam the bassist. We just came to get Harry. We’re going on soon."

"My name's Mitch," the long-haired guy waves slightly. He seems more quiet than the others.

"I'm Sarah!" the beautiful brunette waves, "Are you ready H?" she asks turning to Harry. He knows the look she’s giving him. It’s the ‘you have a lot of explaining to do’ kind of look.

He nods and turns back to Janis. "Patty, my bodyguard, can show you to your seat," he pulls her closer once again, not caring that his bandmates are watching them. "I'll see you after the show?" he gives her a small pouty look.

"Absolutely," she kisses his cheek before giving him another hug and taking off with the muscled man, "Good luck!" she throws over her shoulder with a wink.

The band walks over to the stage entrance shortly after. Harry can't stop smiling and it's not because of the screaming fans calling his name. One of the staff members helps Harry into his white jacket.

Is it strange that he misses her already?

"Is that the same girl from that bar we went to before going to Jamaica?" Adam raises a curious brow at the lovesick boy.

Harry nods with a pink making its way to his cheeks.

"Does she know the song is about her?"

Harry shakes his head as the pink grows into a deeper shade of red.

Adam booms with laughter. "This concert is going to be so awesome!"

~~~

The concert was one of his best. The crowd was louder than ever. He looked at the VIP section often and could see Janis having a good time. After numerous songs, he finally gets to the one he's been the most nervous to play tonight.

"Alright everyone. I need you guys to be serious for a second," he says into the microphone, "We are having such a good time tonight. I want you guys to keep the same energy especially because I'm about to tell you that I'm having your baby!" The stadium erupts in cheers so loud he’ll be surprised if they have their hearing tomorrow.

The rock song starts of strong. The heavy beat sounds through the whole stadium as all the fans sing along. As the song goes on, Janis notices the familiarity of the words. She knows the song played at the club but that's not why the lyrics are bouncing around her head. As Harry gives his all to his performance, he makes eye contact with her when it finally clicks.

Normal people might be put off at the fact that someone wrote a song about them without knowing them at all, but Janis isn't the average person. She starts laughing hysterically and singing along. She's going to tease him about this later.

As everything starts to wrap up, Janis follows Patty back to the green room. She goes to the restroom before the night continues and by the time she enters the green room, all the band members are there except Harry. She goes up to a few of the people she hasn't met to introduce herself.

Harry walks into the room after a few minutes. He made sure to shower and change right after the show so he didn't have to part from his sunshine for too long. He sees his girl laughing with all of his friends and he couldn't help but feel a warmth spread through his entire body. He can see himself falling for this girl very easily.

A small smile pulls at his lips before he begins approaching her with a timid look. What if she didn't have fun? What if she didn't like any of the songs? What if--

All his worries went away when he met her eyes and they grew bright with admiration. "There's the Rockstar!" she exclaimed while throwing her arms around him. He grabbed her tightly and spun around.

He laughs slightly at how happy she looks. "I'm so glad you liked it, love."

She pulls back but he holds his arms around her firmly, so she won't get too far away. "It was truly a sight to see. You have this way about you that draws all attention to you. You're mesmerizing, Harry," a blush covers her cheeks, not meaning to say that last part.

"Thank you," he kisses her cheek lightly. He loves the slight pink that coats them. "What was your favorite part?"

"Probably when you held up the handcuffs," she smirks. Now it's Harry's turn to blush. Before they could continue talking, they got sucked into conversation with everyone in the room. Everyone planned on going back to the hotel and hanging out until the adrenaline of from the performance wore off, but Harry and Janis had other ideas.

"I think we were just going to go back to J's apartment for a little bit," Harry tells them. With that said, they say their goodbyes before exiting the venue with some security. Janis already had a car waiting for her outside, so Harry just tagged along.

The ride was relatively silent. It was comfortable and definitely not overrated. Harry had talked to her every day since he met her again, but he loved being able to physically pull her closer to him. Touching her was almost like a drug to him. He couldn't get enough of this woman and for the life of him, he didn’t understand why.

When they pull up to a tall building in the city, they both step out. She thanks her driver before taking Harry's hand and leading him into the lobby. From the golden tiling and pearl accents, he could tell that this place is very posh.

"Good evening, Ms. Rogers," the man at the door greats. He seems to be in his late forties with the graying of his hair. For some reason, her full name plays through his mind like he should know where it's from, but he just pushes that thought away.

"Hello, Mason! How's Lily?" she asks him with a kind smile.

"She's great! She loves the books you sent her. Can't stop reading them before bed!" he laughs.

"I'm so glad she likes them. They were some of my favorites when I was younger. You'll have to bring her by sometime soon so we can all go for lunch," she touches his arm before she grabs Harry’s hand again.

"I'll be sure to bring her by soon," he smiles kindly. J nods before bidding goodbye.

As step into the elevator, Harry turns to her with a fond smile on his cherry lips. "You're so adorable," he kisses her nose as she bursts into giggles.

"You're so sweet," she kisses his lips lightly before the elevator doors open, signaling they have arrived. There were only 4 doors in the long hallway. She walked over to the last one on the left and pulled out her key. When she opened the door, Harry faltered slightly.

She told him before that she comes from a wealthy family, but he thought that just meant she came from some money. The apartment that she is staying in is easily one of the most expensive places in New York. The decorations were filled with every color under the rainbow. Surprisingly, nothing was obnoxious. The more he looks around, the more he knows this is exactly what he expected her apartment to look like. There was nothing dull or boring on her walls. Painted pieces, flowers and photos cover the entire place.

"This place is amazing," Harry says under his breath.

"Thank you. Would you like something to drink?"  she offers.

"Some water would be lovely," she nods, taking his hand and leading him to the giant living room before heading to the open kitchen.

He takes this moment to really look around. There is lots of artwork around on the walls and sculptures scattered around. There's a large television in front of an all-white couch. The kitchen is behind the couch without a wall closing it off. This place is so open and vibrant that it just makes sense that this is where she would be. She's always been open and honest with Harry, and it has scared him a little bit at first. Even with that fear in him, he is determined to push himself towards being like her. Open and free.

"Here you go," she hands him the water before guiding him to the patio overlooking New York City. Her presence is so consuming, and he knows he could never get enough of it.

Once they settle on the outside couch overlooking the city, Harry finally asks the question that has been on his mind since they left the venue. "So, how did you like the show honestly?" he takes a sip of his drink.

"I meant everything I said before. You were meant to be on stage, Harry," she responds with a soft smile.

"Thank you, love," he says. He has been using that term of affection more and more lately because every time he does, a light pink coats her cheeks, and he can't get enough of how beautiful it makes her. "What was your favorite song?"

She thinks for a moment before smirking. "I really enjoyed that unreleased song 'Medicine'! Why wasn't it on the album?"

"You and everyone else," Harry chuckles lightly looking down at his lap. "It just didn't feel right putting it with all the other songs," he shrugs noncommittally.

She rolls her eyes. "I need a studio version, Harold."

Harry cackles at the nickname before sipping his drink again. "That's not my name, love, and you know it. But I'll see if I could find one for you."

She smiles cheekily at him. "I know. I did really like that song, but I'd have to say the one about 'Kiwi' was my all-time favorite," she giggles. Harry starts to fidget slightly. "Very creative with the words there. How did you come up with that one?"

"Um, well you know, I-" he starts to stutter, "You know, I d-don't like putting a definite meaning behind my songs just in case someone has their own meaning behind a song, uh," he stops himself cringing slightly at his rambling.

Janis laughs at his discomfort and she sounds just like a song. Her head throws back and her eyes squint closed. Harry couldn’t find her more beautiful. Once she settles down, she breathes out a sigh. "You know how I said I got into the wrong crowd a while back?" she waits for him to remember one of their late-night conversations. "Well, that guy was one of them. He was good fun and could take my mind off somethings that happened," Harry inwardly cringes about how he would do that exactly, "We went out that night because I'd just gotten back from visiting home, so I needed to relax somehow. While we were out, his girlfriend showed up. When she confronted me, those words just popped out of my mouth. I told her 'I'm having your baby, it's none of your business' as in, 'I'm with your guy now, what are you gonna do about it?'" she smiles at the memory.

Harry couldn't help but laugh at how crazy the story was. "R-really?" he gasps out.

She nods slightly. "Yeah. I won’t have used those words if I wasn’t drunk. Then later that night, I found out he was just using me to get to his father to release his trust fund. She was his actual girlfriend, and he was just a sleazeball using me," she shrugs, but Harry could tell the situation affected her more than she let on.

"So, you guys aren't friends anymore?" he asks curiously.

"No. I quickly dove into my studies and got back on the right path. I'm a good girl now," she giggles, "I even told his father about it, so both of them don't like me very much."

Harry shifts closer to her and pulls her onto his lap, "Well, I like you lots," he smiles feeling so lucky to have this girl in his arms. Her returning smile stuns him from being so bright.

"You do?" she confirms. He nods. "Well, Rockstar, I like you lots too," she kisses his lips gently. It was meant to be a small peck, but once he tasted her strawberry lip gloss, he couldn't let her get too far away. "Wanna know something really funny though?"

Harry hums, just wanting to hear more of her voice. He has no alcohol in his system, yet he feels just as tipsy as he would after a few drinks.

"I'm allergic to kiwis," she whispers to him.

"No shit?" Harry bursts into fits of laughter. She nods truthfully, join in on his laughter.

The rest of the summer evening was filled with giggles and stolen kisses. He made sure to keep her in his hold, within kissing distance. Every time their lips touched, he felt a high like no other.

~~~

Harry left in the early hours of the morning to get some rest before their breakfast date they decided on. Harry planned a perfect date for them. They were going for a picnic in one of his favorite places.

Harry picks her up from her apartment around nine in the morning. He texted her he was in the lobby. He's distracted on his phone when the elevator gets to the main floor.

Janis walks out and sees him standing there. She admires his beauty. It's an unusual feeling of being wanted by such an amazing man. All her life, she has been loved, but she found out rather quickly who her real friends are. Some people only found her interesting because of who her parents were. No one ever really cared about what she was like, so to have Harry not know exactly who she is, is quiet refreshing.

"You're so cute when you smile," her voice startles him. He looks up at his sunshine. She's sporting a lovely pastel green sundress and a pink sun hat. Her perfume drifts around him causing that familiar fuzzy feeling. He breathes it in an out.

"I've got a lot to smile about when I'm around you," he coos and greets her with a kiss on the cheek. Color flushes Janis’ face as she giggles, trying to not show how much his words affected her.

"You're too cheesy sometime," her voice is soft.

"Anything to make you blush like that," he grabs her bag and carries it out as they head to the car.

She laughs at how cute he is. He makes a funny face in response to her musical laughter, causing more fits.

The picnic was set up by the time they got there. He'll have to thank Jeff for setting everything up. They are hidden from the public by a few trees, just like that first night they spent together. They sit down on the blanket and take out some of the food that's packed. He made sure some of her favorites were in there. On a light night Skype call, she told him she could never get enough berries.

"Oh! Strawberries, gimme!" she makes grabby hands for the fruit. Harry laughs and gives it to her. She opens the container and grabs a bright red strawberry. Harry watches as she brings the fruit up to her mouth. It's the cutest thing when her tongue peeks out to guide the fruit into her warm mouth.

Harry's brain goes empty as she takes a bite and closes her eyes to savor the flavor. Her eyes close for a moment and her head lulls back. Oh God.

He looks back to the picnic basket, so he doesn't turn this date into something it isn't. He hands her a pre-made sandwich and grabs one for himself too. They get to talking about everything under the sun, wanting to get to know each other better.

"What's your favorite book?" she asks while popping in another grape.

"Um, that should be an easy question, but I've read so many," he thinks out loud. He found himself doing that so often with her. He knew she would never judge him, so he felt free to speak his mind whenever she was around. There are only a few people that make him feel that way.

"Well, which one are you reading right now?" she prompts him after a few seconds of silence.

"I'm reading 'Love is a Mixtape' by Rob Sheffield," he says. He is about to elaborate, because it's not a well-known book when she speaks up.

"I love that book," she says before drinking some water. "Rob's actually a friend of mine. He's a brilliant writer and definitely someone who is overlooked." Harry's jaw goes slack slightly. She looks at him oddly. "What?"

"You're friends with Rob?" Harry can't wrap his brain around how they would be in the same circles.

She nods. "He's actually friends with my father. My dad is...well, influential so Rob actually interviewed him in the early 90s. Ever since, they became friends. He's a sweet guy, very genuine."

Harry booms with laughter. "He's a good friend of mine too! That's how I got onto the book. On tour, I need something to occupy my mind sometimes, so I started reading his book."

"That's awesome! Maybe if we didn't meet at the bar, he would have introduced us," she smiles.

"That'd be pretty funny," he takes a sip of his water. "What book are you reading right now?"

"Well, it's not my favorite," she cringes slightly, "But it's called 'Watermelon Sugar' by Richard Brautigan." She makes a sour face at the mention of it. When she looks up to Harry, he is frozen in thought.

That book used to be Camille's favorite. This is the first time he has thought of her in the past few weeks. Oddly enough, it doesn't hurt as much as it had before. Spending time with Janis has opened his mind to new things and a brightness he has never known.

"Are you alright, Harry," Janis breaks him out of his thoughts by touching his arm gently.

"Um, yeah, sorry," he shakes his head. "My, um, my ex used to love that book," he shrugs.

Maybe she should have been uncomfortable with talking about the guy she like's ex, but she's not the jealous type.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" she asks while finishing off her sandwich.

He thinks about it for a second. Does he want to talk about her? No. It's not because he is avoiding the pain. It's because he truly doesn't find the need to. He shakes his head and looks at the girl in front of him. She's not who he thought she'd be. She is so much more. He pulls her closer to him.

"I'm okay. Thank you though," he kisses her temple. This feeling inside him is rising through his chest. He's felt it on more than one occasion with her. It's so wonderful and warm. "Why don't you like it?"

Her bottom lip pouts out slightly and her eyebrows draw together in thought. Harry can't help but find her absolutely adorable. "Originally, I thought it would be good because it has one of my favorite fruits in the title, but I was wrong. It's just a really weird story. I do like actual watermelon sugar though," she laughs, "It's sweet and delicious, just like you," she kisses his lips slowly before pulling back.

Harry's eyes are still closed from the taste of her on his tongue. He needs to change the subject quickly before he creates a scandal in the middle of this park, "So, you said that you have plans at the end of this month?"

She nods her head, popping another grape in her mouth. "I'm hosting an event for the charity that I run."

"Huh?" Can this girl be any more perfect?

"When I was younger, I always wanted to make some kind of impact. I saw so many people not using their voices to stand up for the right things or being completely selfish,” she scoffs while rolling her eyes at the memories, “One of the things I am most passionate about is learning. I want everyone to be able to learn whatever their heart desires, so I started a fund to sponsor children who want to learn about things that schools might not teach them. I’m working with art galleries, recording studios, research labs, and a few other companies to mentor these kids. They will have a chance to really see how things they are passionate about work."

"Oh my gosh, you're literally a saint, no wondering I'm falling--" Harry chuckles before he realizes what he was about to say. "Uh, I mean, uh--"

"What was that?" Janis asks while placing her arms around his neck to play with the baby hairs at the bottom of his neck.

Harry looks down blushing before looking up through his lashes. "I really like you Janis, and I, uh, I can see myself falling really hard for you. I don't know if I'm reading the signs wrong or something--"

Instead of letting him ramble on, she interrupts him with a kiss. Every word that is unsaid between the two seems to flow through them in that moment. She tastes like strawberries. His breath is minty from the gum he was chewing on after he ate. Their lips move in perfect sync. Harry feels like it’s so natural to be with her on this summer morning. Her perfume surrounds his senses. He breathes her in and out. Janis is the one to pull back first. She leaves one last peck on his awaiting lips and smiles.

"I can see myself falling for you too," she giggles.

Harry lets out a breath of relief. He grabs onto her disposable camera and takes a picture of the two of them smiling. They take turns posing for each other causing them both to fall into fits of laughter.

After a while, they pack up the rest of the picnic and take it to the car before going on a walk down the street. Harry doesn't have to be at sound check until two hours before the concert, so he has plenty of time to spend with his sunshine. They walk for a few hours, going to the little shops or the small bakeries along the street. They never let go of each other, that is until he hears an eerily familiar person call out his name.

He turns around to be met with the familiar icy blue eyes. "Camille?" There was no reason for her to be in New York, unless...

"Hi Harry! I was in the states and thought I'd catch your show," she shrugs with a grin. "Theo and I were thinking about going to DC for your show there in a few days," Camille notices the girl standing behind him and gives her a smile.

No one talks for a second, so Janis takes the opportunity to use the skills she learned when she was younger to defuse the awkward tension. She assumed this was the ex they were just talking about.

"Hello," she smiles genuinely at the obvious model, "I'm J." She didn't want to introduce herself as anything to Harry just in case Camille took it as her being aggressive. They just admitted their feelings for goodness sake.

"Camille," Janis goes in for a handshake, but the model pulls her in to kisses her cheeks, "It's lovely to meet you!"

"You as well. I love your top by the way," Janis says conversationally. She can't help but notice the beauty of the woman in front of her. It makes a lot of sense how this woman could be Harry’s ex-girlfriend.

"Thank you! I love your dress," the compliment is a little over enthusiastic, but luckily Harry broke out of his silence before Janis could think too much about it.

"So, you guys are coming to the show in DC?" Harry asks nervously. In his silence, he really thought about his emotions. He knows he is over Camille, but if her and her new boyfriend come to the show, he might have a harder time performing. The wound still hurts where she left, but he has Janis now.

Camille nods and looks down at the watch on her wrist. "Oh! I'm late for a lunch meeting. I'll see you in DC," she looks over to Janis and smiles, "I look forward to seeing you again."

"Absolutely!" she replies as the model walks away. The pair walk slowly down the street again. "Are you okay, Harry?" Janis asks after a few minutes of silence.

Harry laughs softly and pulls her to his side kissing her temple again. "Yes, love. It's just a little odd I guess."

"I bet. Will you be okay at the DC show?" she questions. She isn't sure when it is, but she's hoping she will be free to go. The reason she wants to be there isn't the fact that his ex will be there. It's the fact that Harry seems a little shaken by just one conversation with her. As someone that cares for him immensely, she wants to be there for him even if he might not need her.

"I think so," his eyebrows crease in thought. This is vastly different. Camille was very jealous when they were together. That was one of the reasons for their fights. Janis seems oddly content with the fact that his ex is talking to him. "Would you like to come to the show?"

She can sense that he isn't asking for her benefit. He wants her there. "What day?"

"It's this next Sunday."

Her charity even is on Monday, so she should be able to make it as long as she leaves in enough time. "I'm free. I've got the benefit the day after, but it should all work out," she smiles up at him.

"Lovely," he says. He's not talking about her being able to come, he's talking about her in general.

[hooniee]

 — ꒰‧⁺paris run away  *ೃ༄

↷ heeseung x reader ⋯ ♡ᵎ

↷genre: fluff | comdey ⋯ ♡ᵎ

↷ warnings: not proofread | none! ⋯ ♡ᵎ

↷ synopsis: (y/n) just graduates from high school and feel incomplete but doesn’t know what’s missing. a trip to paris might be able to fix that ⋯ ♡ᵎ 

↷ author note: this is @enhypenwriters​ event of the month! strangers to lovers <3 i think this was my favorite to write out of the three pieces but i feel like it’s lacking some flare :( i think it still turned out okay though. i hope you enjoy <3 ⋯ ♡ᵎ

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .*

you should have listened to sunoo when he said that it wasn't a good plan to travel to a foreign country on impulse.

you wouldn’t say you’ve ever been the most courageous person in your life. determined to break that trend, you planned this super out of the blue trip without much thought.

yeah. maybe this was a bit TOO courageous.

you didn't comprehend what compelled you yet here you were, arriving at paris charles de gaulle airport.

you stared at the large windows of the airport, viewing the plane that you had just left.

the gate for the concluding passengers had been locked by the flight stewardesses.

one of the stewardesses obtained eye contact with you, before shooting a smile and lightly bowing her head.

you absentmindedly returned the gesture, mind elsewhere.

bustling throughout the airport were people hurrying to their connecting flight or slumping into their lover's arms

people carried two or more suitcases with various bags strapped on their bodies, nothing on you besides a petite sling purse and one small carry on suitcase.

as weaved your way through the mass of stressed travelers, you briefly thought to yourself

how the hell did you get here?

2 days earlier

clusters of kids outfitted in blue gowns and caps could be recognized a mile away.

the graduation from high school to university.

your friend minji encloses her arm around your shoulder, your arm resting on her waist.

minji’s mom was stood in front of the both of you, gesturing wildly as she tried to take the ‘perfect graduation photo’ as she had put it

"okay pose! get a little closer, perfect. 1, 2, 3"  your friend's mom counts.

the camera shudders which creates a beaming light to flash, eyes faintly twitching.

shrieks could be heard throughout the campus as girls queued up to take their final photographs with the popular guys.

minji's mom draws back the camera and we check the picture.

"it's cute," minji exclaims, peering at it a bit more closer. you nod your head in approval.

you would miss minji, one of the friends you could constantly count on in math class when you neglected to do your homework from binging korean dramas.

"i'll send you the picture later (y/n)! don't forget about me alright? you have my socials and you can always talk to me," minji grasps your hands

you smile, feeling sad at the departure of your best friend, "of course minji, don't forget me either"

"i could never," she brings you into a secure hug.

"sweet pea perfume," you say and she chuckles. sweat pea was minji's preferred perfume and you would miss that aroma.

"i have to go now, but i'll see you around okay?" minji says.

you could notice tears well up in her eyes and she fans her eyes to prevent the tears.

"don't cry ji, i'll start crying," you joked. "i live near here and you can always visit me! my door will always be open."

she smiled, "the same goes for you." her mother shouts her name before she has to go.

"alright, see you around," you wave to her as she leaves.

on the opposite side of the garden, your mom signals to you with your bouquet of red roses in hand.

"are you ready honey?" she asks you and you smile, nodding your head.

the car ride was in pleasant quietness, light radio music fluttering in. you had taken off your cap and laid it in the car seat next to you accompanying with your bouquet. 

you had glimpsed outside to see your campus still arranged with your classmates, beaming and posing for additional pictures.

you bitterly smiled. 

for the first time, graduation didn't appear like one of those liberating scenes of a movie,

1 day ago

you sprawled on his bed, staring straight up. a fan in your hand, fanning the perspiration that threatened to come.

your eyes match the fan's speed directly above your neighbor and best friend, sunoo's, bed.

his air conditioner was broken. with the avail of those elementary paper fans and the only fan stationed in the house, you were able to find comfort

you questioned if he ever got frightened of it dropping on him when he slept.

sunoo occupies the bathroom that's joined to his room, applying some light powder.

your mind strays, more thoughts simmering in the back of your brain. you sigh for the 10th time and sunoo being exasperated, allows out a loud groan. 

it draws you out of your daze and you snap your head towards him."

"what is with you? what is on your mind sunshine?" he shuts his cushion, flinging himself on the bed.

"are you ever scared of the fan falling on you?" you felt the bed dip

"no, it's been like that for years, and don't change the subject. what's wrong?" sunoo retorted 

"what makes you say that? i'm fine, " you answer

"uh-huh," sunoo rolls his eyes

it's the blatant eye-roll rather than the hushed one, he implied business

"you've been sighing for the past ten minutes, spill," sunoo says

of course, sunoo could recognize your distress. what sort of best friend would he be if he couldn't distinguish your emotions?

you huff, " okay then"

"i don't know why but i just feel stuck? i just graduated high school and nothing feels different, i mean it doesn't have to, but what do i do now? maybe i just watched too many movies"

sunoo tsked, " (y/n). sweetie, i graduated last year and i'm still stuck here. i do nothing besides go out or stay in my room. no in-between."

"but you have something sunoo. you have a bunch of your friends, you're an instagram star and i don't know, it's just different, "

it was accurate, sunoo was extremely popular. he had a bunch of friends and acquaintances from being the vice president. 

sunoo inflated up on social media for his content from makeup to dance practices, a versatile instagram star.

you conceal your face with your hands before emitting a loud groan.

sunoo remarks, "i don't know how i can help you (y/n)? maybe you should try to rest a bit"

"easy for you to say, you, who isn’t dealing with a mid-life crisis, " you whine.

"this isn't a mid-life crisis, this is a post-graduation crisis which is totally normal. how about going out of town? obviously not to paris or whatever but maybe, what was her name again? minjoo's town!" sunoo suggested.

"obviously not to paris"

"not to paris"

"to paris"

"paris"

what about paris? paris was considerably away from your town and had a ring on the tip of your tongue. 

you had sprung up, grasping sunoo by the shoulder and shaking him, "you're a genius sunoo! paris is a genius idea."

sunoo's eyes widen and he shakes his head while attempting to pry your hands off of him.

"no, you have to think rationally-"

you released sunoo from your hold which let him stabilize his spinning head.

"and i am! i need something new. being in this town for my whole life makes me realize, maybe i just need a spontaneous trip. "

your words scarcely blur together, adrenaline rushing through your blood as you understood this could jolt you out of your post-graduation slump.

"but-"

"no buts! pass me my laptop,"

present-day

you are currently disliking your choice, anxiety rushing through your veins, but it's too overdue to have other opinions.

you had landed in france and this was a life-altering moment; a chance of a lifetime.

peering nearby, you squint at the tiny english translations of the signs. you pull out your phone.

you open up the camera to see if zooming in would improve it for your eyes. as if on cue, your stomach rumbles vaguely making you startled.

you panicked as the pocket that was previously supplied with snacks became loaded with empty wrappers.

maybe if you would be lost in this wonderful city, you might as well try some of their famous pastries.

your muscles had retracted, the result of finally getting some movement after being restrained in a metal machine that was adjacent to the fiery sun.

you stumbled across this petite bakery and enter, sparingly bowing your head. 

the owner was an older lady with her greying hair that designed it to resemble ashy highlights, pulled into a loose bun.

"que puis-je vous offrir?" she smiles.

"i'm sorry, i don't speak french?" you admit, embarrassed

as much as you assumed duolingo and rosetta stone could benefit you on a flight to paris, the only thing you could accomplish to say without messing up is "bonjour"

"that's fine mademoiselle! what can i offer you?" the lady shifts to englsih

you let out a sigh of relief, appreciative for blundering into this bakery.

"may i have your most popular pastry to go and a water bottle?" you smile, fishing out some euros.

you had looked down to the currency that you had exchanged before embarking on the plane.

"of course mademoiselle!" she says, reaching behind the counter and with her gloved hand, seizing a chocolate croissant.

"that will be 4.12 euros!" she rings you up in the cashier.

"is this the right amount? i'm not very good at counting euros," you revealed your hand where the money was.

she nodded her head and took the money, printing your receipt out. before giving you your receipt, she interviews you with a question that you weren't confident in answering"

"if you don't mind me asking, why are you here in france? not to sound rude! but i'm just curious"

you softly smile, sensing the kindness illuminating from her tone of voice. she wasn't rude at all and she was asking a simple question, but your brain struggled to obtain an answer.

"well, i would say i'm here to explore?  i just finished high school and life felt incomplete. my best friend jokingly said "go to paris" and so I booked a ticket."

you look back up at her to see her delicate gaze. the rustling of the paper bag stopped the moment of silence

"that's amazing mademoiselle! france is the city for that. you must visit the notre-dam cathedral while you're here, it's beautiful. and maybe even find some love?"

she winks at you and you engage with a small giggle.

just like the show "emily in paris," you could merely fantasize about living a life like hers but it was an altered universe. she was an employed woman and you; a fresh graduate from high school.

"maybe! but i'm not looking forward to dating right now"

it wasn't a lie nor the truth. you would love to date someone right now but dating someone from a foreign country with a language barrier? not the most desirable idea. the owner laughs, handing you your pastry and water bottle.

"thank you for dropping by here mademoiselle! please enjoy your time in france,"

"merci beaucoup" you stumbled out, providing a small wave out.

the airport seemed to be more crowded than before. slowly opening the wrapping, you take a bite of the chocolate croissant and let out an audible gasp.

unquestionably, one of the greatest pastries you have tried in your life.

you promptly pull out your phone, snapping a picture for your instagram story. it was an adorable picture with the bakery in the background with the chocolate croissant in hand.

with "just landed" as your caption, you posted it to your close friends story. almost a second later, sunoo request to video call you.

you were welcomed by a piercing shriek into the phone.

"YAH I WAS JUST GREETED BY YOUR PARENTS WHO SAID YOU WERE AT A SLEEPOVER FOR A COUPLE DAYS? SLEEPOVER MY FOOT? YOU'RE IN PARIS-" 

sunoo screeches over the phone and you timidly grimace, turning down the volume as people begin to stare.

"sunoo, i'm currently in a public airport with no earbuds plugged in, can you please STOP screaming?" you whispered audibly to him.

"OH, I FORG- sorry," sunoo sheepishly responds.

"my parents would never let me go this far so i just had to lie that i was going to a sleepover at minji's house which is out of town. plus i'm only going to be here for two days," you consult him.

"you saw me buy the tickets sunoo. why are you scolding me now? shouldn't you have tried to stop me while i was in the middle of buying the tickets?" you added.

"well now i want you to come back, who am i supposed to hang out with for the next 2 days?" 

though it was dark in the setting sunoo was in, you could practically see his pouting face.

"you could hang out with jake? or sunghoon? aren't they both your friends?"

jake and sunghoon went to the same school as sunoo and you're buddies with them. you've known each other since middle school but jake and sunghoon were always closer to each other just like you and sunoo.

"jake and sunghoon hyung are busy on a vacation together in the bahamas"

you stifled a laugh in, "good luck being alone for the next two days."

"not funny (y/n)! besides that point, what if you get caught?"

"don't worry, i won't get caught because you're the only one who knows about this .as long as you don't rat me out sunoo," you scowl at him.

"i won't, i won't, i promise but you have to buy me something? deal?”

you roll your eyes, "deal mr. sunoo-shi, i have to go now. i need to try to find my hotel"

"be safe, love you!"

"i will! love you too"

you sulk after the call ends. without your best friend on your side, you felt a little feeble and lost but it's not time to be pondering like that. 

paris awaits and you couldn't linger at the airport the whole day.

first challenge 

getting to your hotel was a struggling. wandering around a city with no basis of the language besides "hello" and "thank you so much", didn't do enough for you.

first, you had to find a taxi that could converse in english. most people had turned you down as you couldn't speak french.

thankfully, it was a fortunate day and you met this kind lady who had coffee-colored curly locks, gentle chocolate eyes, and light freckles scattered around her face.

"do you speak english?" you crisscrossed your fingers, your legs close to giving out after scrambling for taxi drivers

"yeah, i do mademoiselle! would you like to hop in?" she extended a friendly smile and you had never felt bricks lift off your chest faster.

she opened the back of the taxi and you scouted in, permitting your purse to lay on your lap.

the women examined both directions of the road, looking out for passing cars and entered the driver's seat.

"where are you heading mademoiselle?"

you swiftly pull out your phone to your notes, "hotel le walt paris?"

you corked your eyebrow, making sure it was the right name before she nodded her head. 

"a very famous hotel huh? right near the eiffel tower. i recommend that you wait till it gets dark and sit on the balcony to see the eiffel tower with lights. it's beautiful"

you smiled at the kind words of the lady, "i will surely try that! thank you miss..?"

"elena! elena is fine and you mademoiselle?"

"i'm (y/n)"

"it's nice to meet you"

"likewise"

the entire ride, you felt at some peace finally conversing with someone who understood english,

 after a 30 minute drive, you had arrived at your destination.

feeling a sad departure from this mellow woman, who turned out to be 19 seeking to make some pocket money in the summer, she was one of the first people that you had grown connected with throughout this ride.

"elena, though it was a short time, thank you for keeping company"

you present her with a warm smile as she unlocks the door for you. you exit the taxi, clasping at your phone.

"here, give me your phone."

you softly planted it in elena's hand. you were perplexed about why she showed you your home screen until you realized you had a password.

you enter your password, giving it back to her. she did a bit of clicking and you could see her hands typing something in before returning the phone back to you.

"that's my instagram, stay in contact with me alright?"

you felt the sides of your lips curve into a slight smile. you dragged her into a soft hug.

"thank you elena"

she visibly hesitant before easing into the hug. she softly rubbed your back.

"i have to go, i might get fired if i stay here too long"

you bided her a fare-well. thirty minutes was an extended time to get a know a person.

and that was the first friend you met in france.

second challenge

checking into your hotel wasn't as difficult. most people could speak english and besides the uncanny looks that you received from the clerk, check-in was pretty smooth.

"here you are mademoiselle" the bellman lowers your suitcase in front of your hotel door.

"merci beaucoup,"  you smile and he returns the gesture before leaving you.

you look down in your hand where you are grasping the card tightly. you scan the card against the door meter and it flickers twice. 

red, green

the door clicks before you push on it and reveal your hotel room.

at first glance, your mouth dropped.

the hotel room seemed better than it did on the online photographs which was a rare possibility.

though it was a small room, it was renovated beautifully.

overhead the king-sized bed, there was an extensive painting of the eiffel tower. a blue chair that held a place directly by the bed along with a little wooden table.

the hotel was fine but you definitely weren't

"(y/n) shut down in,"

"3"

"2"

"1"

before thinking, you throw yourself on the bed having the jet-lag kicking in. the bag offers a 'thump' sound as it connects with the ground.

'ouch that hurt'

you fish through your pocket, pulling out your phone. it was hardly twelve pm and you were already fatigued.

what was your strategy? you were in france for two days and you don't have a plan to do anything.

first things first, you needed to sort out this jet-lag.

 1) taking a shower

showers are always a great way to awaken and could shake you from this daze. you endured a scream as your water turned to be ice cold. someone must be utilizing the hot water. that shower unmistakably woke you up

2) skincare

after getting out of the shower, skincare was the secondary way to wake up. cleansing with toner, dropping essence into the skin, and implementing a nice coat of moisturizer to lock-in.

3) fueling with food

food can beat anybody out of slumber if they're fueled with enthusiasm but you didn't have any food on you? that indicates it's time to go out and explore france.

unfastening up your suitcase, you drabble on what you can wear.

reconciling with a simple pair of denim shorts and a light pink tank top, you catch a fast mirror selfie.

being content with the ultimate product, you smile to yourself.

"phone, key, wallet," you whispered, securing the thoughts of having everything. 

everything was arranged to go and it was time to tour paris.

third challenge 

cruising through paris would be by notably the toughest challenge while you were here.

you had your phone to navigate solely with wifi and you couldn't be that favorable to be able to meet people who could speak english all the time. 

you had entered a small restaurant, where you worked to communicate with people in defective french but they moderately understood what you wanted.

after that fiasco trying to order a chicken frricassee, you were able to appreciate your time there along with sending a picture to sunoo who reacted with,

"can that be the souvenir you bring back to me TT?"

you chuckled at the message, knowing typical sunoo, and finished up eating.

eating wasn't the one exclusive thing available in france. there were various activities but you were too afraid to venture any future for the hotel. getting lost too was easy.

that being said, eating after eating all you could do was roam around the city. it was around 2pm and you could spot a diverse crowd of people.

you could see kids. in uniforms that just got out of school or a cute couple that was experiencing their date.

you slightly squint and cover your eyes as the sun is at its highest point.

yes, paris was lovely and you would prefer to travel more but but you didn’ toriginally have a plan

for a couple of hours, you completed wandering around the area where your hotel is. you wished at moments like this that you would have jungwon, sunoo's friend, with you to help navigate you.

 jungwon was also a friend you guys met in middle school but he went to your school. very mature for his age and great at preparation.

before you knew it, the sun had died down and it was time to retreat to the hotel.

'ah right! elena told me to look out at the eiffel tower as it gets darker'

you softly tread back to your hotel, observing the blisters at the back of your foot.

you could clearly sense the entire day of walking take a toll on your body.

you scan your key card and fling your bag to the floor as soon as you get inside. you open up your suitcase to change into suitable sleeping clothes.

you briskly cleansed your face and tied your hair back.

you had approached the balcony, guessing how to cautiously open the glass door.

you gradually shift the handle to the right and the door made a scanty creek. you gingerly put more stress on it, opening the balcony wide.

a distinct gasp could be heard from you.

subsequently taking a step onto your balcony, the frail breeze made you quiver in the long black tee that adorned your top half and the sweatpants that settled on your waist.

the balcony was small, barely able to move besides staying still.

you had peered to your right, glancing at the eiffel tower.

elena was correct. the eiffel tower was breath-taking at night. for the first time when landing in france, you could feel in harmony. below you was a crowded street.

it was only 8 pm yet you could feel your eyes droop as opposed to the bouncy pair of kids that ran through the moobs of people.

the radiant yellowish glow of the eiffel tower was able to save you from dozing off. you softly hum 'fly me to the moon,'

'fly me to the moon,' didn't have significance, it felt appropriate in the second.

you hadn't regarded it but a figure had gently peeked out of the other balcony, attentively listening to the silky melody that you were humming.

"nice song"

a voice interrupts and your humming had come to a halt, eyes widened.

you had turned to the origin of the voice and discovered the culprit

the balcony alongside you.

"thank you"

you glanced over, granting him a slight smile before he returns it.

"new to paris?"

he questioned, now you guys facing each other.

"yeah, just arrived this morning, and you?"

you asked before he softly smiles.

"not really, i've been here multiple times but the feeling is something i'll get used too."

you hum as a response

"how did you know to speak english to me? do i really act like a foriegner?"

you were growing more drowsy but this stranger was fascinating. who else could say they met someone and talked to them from a balcony romance?

"english song, random guess"

you nodded your head, not certain if he could see you but that was all you could muster up.

there grows stillness beside the bustling street below until the stranger breaks it.

"i know this sounds weird but since you're new here, would you like to go out with me tomorrow to travel the city?"

that question felt like ice water was just splashed onto your face. the proposal startled you. 

the stranger didn't appear like a bad person. been to paris varied times, can acknowledge good music and good at conversation.

as much as this stranger flatter you, how could you trust him?

"as much as i would love to, how do i know that you're not trying to kidnap me, even worse, kill me?"

he stifles a laugh.

"hey knock it off, this is a very serious question, balcony boy"

you snicker, desiring to know the answer than anticipated.

"i promise you that i won't try to kidnap OR kill you. i'm just offering and you can even pat me down before we go out together."

this was by far one of the most peculiar offers you had received but this was THE stranger offer you came to france seeking.

you know sunoo would not advocate for numerous reasons and you can hear his voice already 

"number one, dangerous"

"number two, dangerous!"

"number three, DANGEROUS!"

but sunoo isn't here right now. you chose to grab the opportunity. france had provided you luck today.

"alright then"

a moment of silence goes by before you hear him clearing his throat.

"you're serious right?"

he glances at you and your eyes lock. though you can't see that well due to the absence of light, you nod.

the eiffel tower gave you enough light that you could make our curious eyes, tall nose, fair skin that radiated in the soft lighting, and full lips that were curved into a smile

"i'll see you at the lobby at eight,"

next morning

to say you were nervous was an understatement, you were terrified. you agreed to a stranger who claimed to know paris like the back of his palm. you met him off your balcony and now you were agreeing to go a date with him? 

"you must be out of your mind!" sunoo exclaimed through the phone.

"well yes i must have been at 8 pm last night when fatigue was hitting the hardest but how can i say no now?"

"i don't know maybe, I DON'T KNOW YOU STRANGER DANGER?" sunoo shouts

and like you foretold last night, sunoo was not a big supporter of this idea. over the course of fifteen minutes, you had been continuously scolded by him.

you cringe, " sunoo, i promise that i'll be fine. i just need you to help me pick out an outfit"

sunoo rolls his eyes, "what are your options?"

though sunoo wasn't supportive of this, he couldn't let you go on a date without style.

you held up two choices; a blue floral dress that settled to your mid-thigh and a pink tennis skirt with a white cami shirt.

"well do we like this guy or do we like LIKE this guy?" sunoo questioned.

"what- well i literally met him last night? so i don't even like him, we're just going out for this one day since he offered"

"uh-huh, then the blue floral dress, it's hot there right?" sunoo says

"super hot," you groan.

you glance at the time, 7:00 am.

"i have to start getting ready sunoo, i'll update you later alright?" you smile

"alright, try not to get killed but have fun too! love you"

"love you too," you say back before hanging up.

you quickly hop in the shower and make sure to not take too long.

doing skincare, putting on the outfit, and spraying a little bit of perfume, you are ready to head out the door.

one last check to make sure you have all the things.

7:58 am

you quickly head down to see several people in the lobby.

a bellman, a pair of teenage girls who seemed like they were dragged here, a couple around the mid-40s trying to check-in, and a teenage boy that rested on one of the lobby seats.

it was evident who the balcony boy was but you just called out to be safe.

"balcony boy," you say.

the teenage boy that was seated turns around before flashing you a smile. 

"miss singer,"

you airly chuckle at the nickname.

observing him in person was a lot different. you could see his long body proportion, bright eyes, sharp jawline, with fair skin that complimented his rich brown hair.

a distinct experience from seeing him on the balcony.

"i'm (y/n)! and you?" you ask

"i'm lee heeseung"

[fanfiction-inc]

If you are still doing the Ns/fw alphabet thing would I be able to request one of Higgs Monaghan?

Oh, but of course! Now I must apologize to you and everyone else for the delay! I have finally been able to finish up some things for college and have a slow period to get some stuff done! I hope you enjoy this!

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

It all depends on the relationship he is having with the one he’s fucking. If it’s a one night stand, he has no obligation to clean up the other party, much less show them kindness or deliver niceties on his way out. He simply will redress, and leave whoever they are. Something more than a fling, like a friends/enemies with benefits or standard relationship warrants far more sweetness from the terrorist. He’ll wipe you down, clean you up of any mess and offer the sweetest praises. Now this man, despite all the terrible shit he has done, is the sweetest pillow talker, holding you as if he’ll never see you again and reminding you of what you mean to him. He hardly has quality relationships, so having you as a friend (or enemy with benefits) or partner is what he values most.

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His favorite part is of course that damn silver tongue he uses to charm you like always and the mouth it resides in. Be it the nicest words you’ll ever hear or the filthiest, he savors how it makes you react. The stammering or stern and silent look away when you blush. The subtle press of thighs or move of an object to cover a ‘growing’ problem. He loves it all. He also loves what he can do with that mouth and tongue that could get you going. Licking along a hot shaft with kitten like flicks of his tongue, or along folds that hold the honey pot he wishes to steal from.

It doesn’t matter the shape, size, or prominence, but Higgs will always be an ass man. Be it cupping it, squeezing it, using it to get a rise or having his cock buried deep, he will always love a good ass. He tends to be more sexual with asses when his partner is male (or presenting male), often finding moments like those intimate in the guy category. The ass on a woman (or presenting woman) is often more for holding, especially for stability when his tongue is buried deep in them.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

Anywhere. Literally fucking anywhere. You want it inside you? Done! Want it down your throat? He’ll go right ahead! Want it covering your face or body? He’ll do his damnedest! He loves the sensation of filling you, but fucking hell does he love how it looks on your body and how it decorates you. Of course he finds humor if it gets in your hair or misses you from a wrong angle, but that’s the playfulness in him talking.

Now him taking any form of cum? That’s a different story. He is absolutely okay with cum inside him or down his throat, but he despises spitting it out or having it leak from him. It’s an intimate act to take such from his partner, so he’ll practically beg for it as long as you’re willing to give it!

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

This Particle of God who permeates all existence is by simple definition, a slut. Now, I say slut with all the love I have for him in the world, but it is quite true. Higgs is by far the biggest example of ‘switch’ energy. He wants to be used like a toy, wants to be used for the sake of giving others pleasure. Tie him up, decorate him in leather. Give him a few healthy smacks to the ass, but just know if he’s the dominating force in the relationship, he may never admit such. It’s something he prefers to keep to himself until he finds the perfect partner to open up to about it, so it remains his dirty secret.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Higgs has had some good flings in his time, allowing experience with both men and women alike and giving him a rather good sense of what he’s doing. He’s learned just what his tongue can do, how his words can make the body react. And when he rolls his hips just the right way, oh, he gets the idea and knows how to manipulate it.

F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Oh, he could never start off without without a good bit of foreplay. Typically with any partner, Higgs prefers a good bit of face sitting or ‘69’ play, though his main objective is to focus on his partner's pleasure. Anything he can do to get his partner off first, he will attempt to do.

When it comes to his partners, the positions vary. Up against a wall, he’d have their legs wrapped around him and fucking up into them. Don’t forget the wandering fingers to a sensitive clit or hand to a weeping dick. Laying down, it’s a toss up between missionary or spooning. Missionary is often used when he wants to keep his gaze locked with his partner's own, where as spooning is for those moments where he wants to hold his partner close. When he’s spooning, this can be for intimacy purposes where he goes slow and deep, keeping the moment drawn on to savor you or your body. But in other times, it’s the moment to jackhammer his hips into you until you’re a shaking mess. On your knees, and he has you in doggy. This position is also used more often for flings where no eye contact has to be made and is quick enough to be over and done with.

Now for himself, especially if it’s with a male/male presenting partner or during an intense pegging session, he’ll be begging for a form of missionary. He much prefers holding his legs up towards himself so his bum is presented to his partner. If you include a nice hand job while fucking him, then he’s done for in that position.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

This man is not only a switch in the dom/sub realm, but he also is in the serious/humorous realm as well. Higgs is often very humorous when it comes to sex, finding ways to make it fun and carefree. He’ll crack jokes, chuckle if something doesn’t go quite right, but above all, he’ll find it fucking hilarious if you joke back. Playful banter is all part of the fun, but sometimes the moment deserves some serious focuses. If his partner is ever down on themselves or their bodies, he’s serious in the moment. He will make fucking sure that they know what they do to him, but also how beautiful/handsome their body is. All encouragement and softness, but lacking the humorous tone. Then, there is the time were the two collide, where pleasure is the main goal.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Grooming isn’t usually a big concern to him, but he does do it here or there. Just like the stubble that grows on his chin, he sometimes just lets it go until it’s so long and thick that it must be taken care of, just like the onsets of a beard. The color is just as dark as his hair, but a little curled as compared to the well kept nature of his hair on top of his head.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

It truly depends on the partner. If this is a one night stand, Higgs won’t hesitate to call it a quick fuck and move on. He’s not going to give his attention or devotion to a person who doesn’t deserve the full on ‘Higgs Monaghan experience’, but if he feels it may be going somewhere, then expect some kisses or sweet words. Maybe even expect a bit of his strong façade to slip in the process.

Now, if you’re his friend/enemy with benefits, or his partner, then here comes the fucking romance train. Sweet, lingering kisses. Gentle brushes along one's skin followed by an unlimited amount of devotion and praise. He will worship the very ground you walk on as long as he gets a piece of you in some way, shape, or aspect. His love will show in every act, even if it’s a quickie or just a straight up fucking session. He may not be too brash, but his reminders will come at a constant, mixed in with lewd conversation and grunted notions.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Being in his clothes, be it his mask or just his cloak, is the best material he can go to for jacking off. Be it imagining you on your back, hands going to work on whatever gets you off while the fabric bunches beneath you, or the idea of you being in control, being ‘him’. Fuck, does it get his mind going and hand going even faster. The easiest thing to do in those moments is to call you up for some straight up dirty talk. If he’s going to be going after release, he wants you to do the same too (or tease the hell out of you until you’re on the brim and need him, because the cocky bastard loves that shit.)

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

BDSM (Bondage, Masochism, and Sadism mostly), Breath Play, Dirty Talk, Exhibitionism, Face Sitting (partner and him), Impact Play, Knife/Weapon Play, Odaxelagnia, Orgasm Denial/ Control, Pegging/Anal, Praise Kink, Strap-on Play (to him), Teasing, Voyeurism, and Worship Kink.

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)

ANYWHERE. Literally fucking anywhere. He will do it at the Homo Demens base camp, right outside of a Bridges delivery location, or even in the middle of timefall (of course with proper coverage. He would never want you to get hurt by the timefall, nor the BT’s, but it does make it interesting to see how quiet you can stay when they begin to move about. It’s always with an underlying sense of danger or excitement of getting caught that fuels him. But this doesn't stop him when it comes to being home.

When with the Homo Demens, his room at base camp is an often place as well as the community showers. The bunker of Peter Englert, though smaller than a whole base, offers many places as well. These stationary places are his favorite for privacy and intimacy.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Your body, no matter what, is always an automatic turn on. Especially if there is exposed skin involved that he can hold onto or kiss at. He is a total ass man, always loving to grab at it or just keep his hand there when talking. Your ass, watching it as you walk or beneath him sends blood rushing down below and he may as well cum in his pants at this rate because holy fuck, is that ass perfection. He will worship that ass, constantly wanting to caress it or have a handful if you’re on his lap. Your hands are the next thing. Be them wrapped around his cock, grabbing at the sheets beneath you, or simply cupping his cheek in the afterglow, your hands are always the sweetest thing because they can do so many things that can make him fall apart at the seams.

What REALLY gets him going is being taken care of. Higgs is touch starved all to hell, and when he gets any sign of affection or sweetness from you, be it cuddling or kind words, he feels like he’s floating on a damn cloud. When he is being submissive, or is the bottom in the relationship, It’s especially a turn on when being taken care of leads to praise in the bedroom.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He will ABSOLUTELY refuse to involve any form of piss or scat in your play. It is an automatic turn off and he may as well be the cause of another voidout just from the mere recommendation of it. He can’t stand the idea of it. Higgs is into a lot of things, but those two will never fall under his category of things that get him going and needy.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

BOTH! BOTH! BOTH! He is an absolute lover of giving and receiving oral! And he isn’t too shabby at it once he gets used to how your body reacts.

When it comes to giving oral, he goes between a mixture of teasing and driving you mad with that damn tongue. Depending on the relationship you share with him, he either dives right in or takes his time with it. If he wants to, he’ll map out your sex, taking in how hard/wet you are, finding what bits make you mewl the loudest or give him the desired effect. He’ll go slow with his tongue, dragging it until you’re trying to get your cock either inside his mouth or his tongue on your clit (either way, he’ll leave you squirming). When he finally gives you what you want, being lavishing your core or sucking you off, he’s at it and he will go until you’re trembling and begging for no more, to which he’ll get one or more out of you just to prove the point that he can.

When it comes to receiving, he is always down for such, but he is more likely to be down for it if he's the submissive partner in the relationship. He would rather worship and tease when in a dominant position. Taking care of you is the best thing in his mind. But being taken care of? Now that is what drives him absolutely wild. He is sensitive when it comes to the tip of his cock being played with, and will fall apart if it's played with.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

It really depends on his mood. If he is wanting to be in a kind and sweet mood, he’s slow and passionate, He’ll take his time to make sure you feel nice and good. Keeping eye contact and sweet praising as he takes you, gentle kisses followed by accented thrust that go just deep enough but not too fast to make it fucking. No, that in his mind is perfect for something he isn’t used to, which is love making. If it needs to be quick, or in his mind it’s a sexual punishment, he will be rougher, or faster with you. He’ll fuck you raw and leave you a mess. Either way you’ll be a mess when you’re with Higgs.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

He usually has more time for quickies, as he is the entity trying to bring on the next mass human extinction. Of course he loves a good session of proper sex, being able to take his time with you or give you a chance to properly take him. But sometimes those are short lived moments, interrupted halfway through or being stopped before being able to bask in the afterglow because he has to leave. Duty calls, after all. His favorite places for them are generally at the Homo Demens camp, or on the go in some risky area that could accidentally get you guys caught.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

This fucker practically screams risk. Be it public excursions or a new tactic in the bedroom, he’s game. If you want to try something a little more dangerous with him, or something far more kinky then you two already do, he is down. He will always give you a chance to try things with him, and sometimes he’ll see what he can do to help expand your comfort zones by suggesting new situations or experiences. Maybe trying more intensive bondage would be the step up he would try with you from the light bondage you two may already do. Maybe he wants you to try choking him, or maybe YOU want to try choking him. Either way, he is always up for experimentation.

This man, being the exhibitionist he is, is obsessed with the thrill of potentially or actually being caught in the act. It’s something that he would GLADLY introduce you to if he had the chance, wanting that to be the first big experiment if you aren’t already into it. Now mind you, he will respect (generally) your boundaries on most things, but this is one thing that absolutely screams fun in his mind, and it’s so damn risky because you never know who is gonna see!

“Oops, didn’t see ya there Sammy! We’ll just finish up here.”

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

It really depends on the play and the partner. Higgs is a man who can go perhaps three or four rounds at the most, having stamina like a beast if he’s really hyped up for it. Usually this happens when he is in the domineering position, having full control over himself, and whatever control you’ll allow over you, be it full or less than full control.

When he is the bottom, taking whatever is being given to him, he’ll last two rounds at the most because let's face it, Higgs can become overstimulated quickly if the right touches and praises are given. Use the right sensation or hammer down on him when you fuck, and he’ll be a puddle of incoherent speech and needy rambling. Now this doesn't mean you can’t get more out of him, but he’ll be less likely to be as coherent as if he is in full control of the situation.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Oh he most certainly owns them, and he most certainly uses them when he wants to. He’s the kind of guy that if he doesn’t have a partner close by, and he wants to spice up a dirty call or get himself off quicker than he can with his hand, toys are the way to go. Be it dildos, vibrators, anything of the likes, he uses them and he will gladly use them on you or let you use them on him.

He doesn’t usually like using toys in every session, though. Sometimes feeling skin instead of whatever material the toy is is sooooo much better to him because he issued you and he wants to fuck properly. Now if you’re a person who requires the extra stimulation from a toy while you’re enjoying each other, then by all means, he’ll incorporate it somehow so that you get exactly what you need. Some people just need that extra push, and he is happy to supply!

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Excuse me, have you met this man? He is the ultimate tease! Especially publicly. He loves to get you hot and bothered or embarrassed and riled up when he’s around. Sinfully delicious comments against your ear or tracing motions through your clothes until you’re needy and he leaves you like that until you’re alone. In the bedroom, he will do whatever it takes to have his partner either be a begging mess or be so fed up with him that he gets exactly what he wants.

For a submissive partner, he likes to use his tongue the most to tease. Trailing along your chest, or over sensitive nipples. Light flicks to extra sensitive areas below the belt, be it the tip or sweet spot on a cock or the bundle of nerves between a woman's legs. Light kisses or nips to the inner thighs just to get you squirming, that man will do so until you get a bite to your voice or just needy enough to give you what you want. Then again, sometimes he likes the torture of continuing the teasing until you’re vision is blurry with tears and you can’t utter any other word than ‘please’.

With dominant partners, he will make every move or command he gets into a tease. Taking his clothing off too slowly, tracing his tongue too long or not putting enough pressure. Sometimes his kisses will pull away too quickly as to tease you. But that teasing is gone the moment you put him in his place, then he is the most compliant creature ever.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make

He is like a fucking air raid siren when he’s being taken, but his volume isn’t nearly as when he’s doing the taking over having someone on top of him in the form of riding. He’ll moan, that is for sure, but the most common noises are the high pitched hitches in his breathing or the grunts that come when he’s pistoning his hips to bring you over the edge. He may give a growl if the fucking is more aggressive, or he may release and airy chuckle from time to time if you two are having more fun than seriousness.

W = Wild Card (Random Headcanon)

He is more than happy to dress in some kind of outfit for your sexual encounters. Be it a Bridges outfit because he knows you get off from him playing as the unknown stranger at Bridges, Peter Englert, or a Fragile uniform because fuck do you love leather, he’s down. He’ll happily wear panties if you like him in feminine undergarments, happily dress with cock cages and leather straps if you want to see him in such. He’ll even stay in the mask if you ask, but when it comes to dressing up, he isn’t limited to dressing himself. He absolutely adores when you wear his mask, or wearing his cloak to cover your nude form.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

He may not be the longest or the girthiest, but Higgs has a nice package. He’s about six inches long when fully erect, so about average (in American standards). He can go from well trimmed to near unmanageable depending on his mood, and also the partner. Some prefer hairless, some don’t mind the all natural look.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Pfft. Have you met this needy man? I mean seriously? He is OBSESSED with sex. Borderline nymphomaniac if you must, Higgs is constantly down for a good time as long as he has time. His big plans for the end of existence come first, but he will gladly give you his all or take whatever is given as long as he gets to enjoy it. He may ask for company more often than once a day given the day, or sometimes he’ll wait till it’s a time restrained time for you and get as much as he can until you just HAVE to do whatever it is you do. He can wait, but it only gets him more hyped for whatever will happen next, and sometimes it’s torture to him with waiting too long.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

Out like a fucking lightbulb. He may stay up for a few for some aftercare either giving or receiving, maybe even some light banter, but generally he’s so worn out that he is O.U.T out! That doesn’t mean he wouldn’t like to stay up and chat the night away. Sometimes he does, sometimes he falls asleep like a light sleeping rock, and other times he’s having to redress to start whatever is next in his grand plan.

[j-diamond]

(Not) Worth It (Edward x reader)

I am so ridiculously sorry and frankly embarrassed at how long it took me to write this request. i apologize for stalling, and hope that this is to your liking.

   “Guess what?” you call as you burst through the doors to the filing room. Your demeanor deflates when you see Officer Dougherty with his fist raised and an unconscious Ed in his other. You were sick of it, this was the last straw. Your face contorts into a frown, turning to your right, you slam the files that were in your hand atop the nearest filing cabinet. The mere sound of it sends the other two officers running. You chuckle slowly at their cowardice as you watch them run away, “I see you’ve seemed to have forgotten last week’s lesson.” your voice was low, dripping with malice, your eyes having gone wide. You slam the door shut as you turn around laughing, “I guess I’ll just have to reteach it.” Tom had let go of Ed, tossing him to the floor. Your gaze returns to Tom, your knuckles growing whiter. You smirk at him, knowing he wasn’t going to recover soon, “Shall we begin?”

   “Knock knock.” you say softly as you lean against the door frame.    “Come in.” Ed responds, not bothering to look up from his deskwork. You smile sympathetically at him as you walk over to him,    “How ya holdin’ up?” you ask , bringing your clipboard closer to your chest. He looks at you, the darkening bruise developing on his left temple answering your question, “You look like a punching bag.” you joke trying to get him to smile. Instead he looks down hastily,    “Better me than her.” he mutters, his voice barely above a whisper. But you hear it, your heart stopping at the words. You look down, understanding what he’d meant,     “Kringle.” you mutter softly, in an almost disbelief. Your breath hitches as you realize he’d done  all that just for her. He threw himself intentionally into harm’s way, for her. Your grip tightens on the clipboard. All of this for her, no, all of this because of her.    “Y/n?” Ed calls softly upon seeing your distressed look,    “Is it worth it?” you ask quietly as you loosen your grip.    “What do you-” he starts but you interrupt him,    “Is she worth it?” your voice barely reaches above a whisper, but he could hear you clearly, “I mean I know you love her, but is she worth getting yourself beaten to a pulp?” You go to meet his gaze, but he breaks it in favor of the floor,    “I love Ms. Kringle.” he says, as if for reassurance, “And Officer Dougherty doesn’t deserve a woman like her. She’s sweet and smart and if I can just prove to her that I’m a better man for her than him, she’ll be with me.” You shake your head, as your eyes begin glazing over,    “But what about Tom?” you ask, your voice wavering slightly, “Everything he does to you, all the beatings, all the trash he talks. The way him, and his troupe look down on you. Is she worth all that?” He nods softly,   “I love her.” he says again, your heart cracking, “And I know that even though I can’t beat him physically. I am still intellectually better. It may not be much right now, but it’ll count for something. If I show him that he doesn’t scare me and that I can take any beating he throws my way then he’ll stop throwing them, just like last time.” your eyebrows crease,    “Last time?” you ask, unsure of what he meant.    “I don’t know much, but I know he was beating me, but I passed out.” he says, his eyes darting, trying to remember, “But I assume he stopped because he got bored. The only punch that was bruised, was this one.” He points to the previous one on his left temple, “So if I continue to do that, he’ll stop wanting to fight me entirely.” You groan, frustrated that he’d been thinking that's why Tom had stopped beating him.    “Ed, that’s not-” You pause, unsure if you should tell him. You look at him, able to see that he was interested. You sigh, you didn’t want to tell him. He didn’t need to know you protected him, after all he was only doing so to ‘protect’ Kringle, “That won’t work. Men like Tom Dougherty don’t just tire from the same...” your voice beginning to grow bitter, “They get off on beating up people they deem weaker than themselves. They won’t let off until being forced to do so.” You stop, thinking about it. You’d protect him this entire time, yet, he doesn’t know, and probably wouldn’t. He’d been protecting Kringle, she knows this, and yet she still doesn’t care. You and him were basically the same, “I’m not like you Ed.” Your voice settles, softer than before, “I can’t keep getting myself hurt because of a person I love.” You turn, your breath uneven, “Bye Ed.” Ed watched as you left, speechless; unknowingly letting you slip through his fingers.

   “I know what you did.” A voice says from behind you. You pause, fighting the instinct to respond, having already figured out who it was. You weren’t going to give them the satisfaction, not when your heart was already weak, moments away from shattering. “I’ll wait.” They say, their voice almost pompous. You sigh inwardly, you needed a change of scenery, staying here would only lead to disaster. So you begin putting away your files, opting out to finish them another day. You look up to see Ms. Kringle guarding the door and you sit back down, pinching the bridge of your nose in irritation.    “Yes Ms. Kringle?” you ask, not wanting to deal with her. She saunters over to your desk. You raise an eyebrow at her obvious faux confidence.    “Tom hasn’t been to work for three days.” She says accusingly. Her hand resting on her hip.     “Well I assume it’s because he needed a day to rest, and another to recover.” You smirk, pretending to think, “The third is probably just for show.” You flash a smile. You weren’t trying to have this conversation, “But honestly it’s none my business, he is your boyfriend. I wish you wouldn’t include me in your toxic relationship.” You stand, readying to leave, enforcing your decision. Yet Kringle apparently had other ideas as she, yet again, blocked your only exit. You smiled, staring deeply into her eyes, “Ms. Kristen Kringle, I do believe it’d be in everyone’s best interest if you refrained from continuing to block my exit.” Your smile dropped, “Unless you wish to get physical.” You intended to scare her into moving, but seeing a sense of familiarity wash over her face, you were reminded of just how toxic her relationship was. You pause, you hated her, but she didn’t deserve that. You sigh inwardly. You grab her arm pulling her to you, “What do you want?” Her eyes shift, surveying the room trying to remember,    “It’s a violation of station rules to assault an officer.” she states, having found the words. You let go of her, completely done with her. She had no valid points, yet she came here to disrupt you anyway. “I’ll report you.” You pause, and then shrug, picking up your phone, ready to leave.    “Okay.” you say as you go to leave,    “That’s it?” she says and a misplaced anger begins to boil inside of you, “you’ll let me report you?”    “Yep.” you say as the anger begins doubling over, “Because you’re not going to do it.”     “And why not?” she asks, as she goes to block your exit again, letting all control leave your body, the misplaced anger showing itself.    “Because you’re a brat.” you say, your voice hardening. She opens her mouth but you shove your hand over her mouth, “No. See you don’t get to talk. Not this time. You can be a brat with your dick of a boyfriend. You can be a brat at work, home and anywhere else. But not with me. You don’t be a brat with me. Because you won’t like how I respond.” Your hand unknowingly lowers to her throat, “See if it were up to me, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” Your hand begins tightening, “but your boyfriend doesn’t seem to be able to learn his place. So it’s his fault. With that being said, keep me out of your thoughts and keep my name out of your mouth. Because if you try this again-” Ed’s face appears over hers and you realize what you’re doing. You let go of her and sigh, your entire demeanor changing,    “Just because he likes you doesn’t mean I have to.” You say softly, “Please stay away from me.”

   “Ms. Kringle isn’t good for you.” You say, avoiding eye contact, “I don’t think she’s worth it. Any of it.” You sigh, bending over to splash water in your face. This wasn’t going to work. No matter how many times you said it, no matter how many ways you said it; you’d never be able to say it to his face. ‘Maybe it’s me who’s not worth it.’ You think to yourself. Your mind goes back to all those times you’d protected him, he’d been protecting Kringle. Thinking about the way his face lit up when he saw her and even when he talked about her, made you realize it never did when he was with you. “All this time it was me.” You say softly. “I’ve been projecting myself on her this entire time. I’m not worth it.” You stare into the mirror, the face staring back confirming it. “I’m the one who’s not worth it.” Your knees buckle in realization.    “Resigning?” Captain Essen asks, shock evident in her eyes. You nod your head in response, “Could I ask you why?”    “Things have grown... toxic for me.” You say softly, avoiding eye contact, “I fear for my mental stability.”    “I get that.” She says making you look up in surprise, which she returns with a smile. “I heard you held your own against Dougherty. He’s a pretty big guy, must take a toll on a person.” You look at her, eyebrow raised, at what she was implying. She smirks, walking over to you, “I like you Y/n. You’re one of my best detectives.”     “But I barely do detective work. I mostly just file.” You admit. She shakes her head,    “Nah, I still like ya.” She says, resting her arm over your shoulder, “Now bear with me.” She tosses your letter on the desk, “I’ll give you a week of paid suspension, then you can come back.” You open your mouth to protest but she shakes her head again, silencing you, “If you feel like you still don’t belong, then you can leave. Deal?” She raises an eyebrow, making you sigh. You nod,    “Fine.” You start, trying to hide the smirk you felt inside, “But only because you’re my favorite Captain.” She chuckles,    “I’m your only captain.” She retorts, smiling as she sits back down.     “I guess it kinda works itself out then.” You add right before you leave, and as you go you can hear her laughter. 

   “Oh, hello.” A voice says, but again, you fight the instinct to look their way; this time for an entirely different reason, “It’s empty in here.” You inhale, your emotions beginning to bubble.    “Yes.” you answer, heart heavy.    “Well, I need a little help.” He says, teetering by the door. You pause, waiting for him to continue. You nod, signaling for him to continue, as you also continue placing items into your bag.    “Well.” He says, pausing to think of how to phrase it, “I-I have been having trouble crafting the perfect riddle.” You pause, surprised, “F-for Ms. Kringle, I mean.” Your almost smile disappears, as tears begin pooling in your eyes. He continues talking as he begins to fidget, probably explaining his thought process, but you weren’t really listening. You were busying yourself, packing, a lame attempt at trying to keep yourself from breaking apart further. You inhale again, shakily this time, and your eyes betray you, leaking ever so slightly. “What do you think?” he asks, breaking through your wall of despair. You stare at the frame of you and Ed that you kept on your desk and wipe your eyes. You pull a fake smile,    “It’ll be lovely.” You say, steadying yourself, “She should love it.” Your smile falls lopsided, and you pass by him, eyes glued to your feet.

   You return home, placing your items near the door, knowing that you’d be trashing them eventually. Plopping onto the couch you sigh, relaxation finally settling in. But just as you begin to relax, the weight you carried hardened, and you began feeling it all; everything you ever held in, ever felt, never said released itself. And like a floodgate, the tears spilled.

   “L/n,” Edward says looking at his clipboard, “I believe the best way-” He pauses, realizing you weren’t here. He looks around, perplexed, it had been three days, and you still hadn’t shown. Part of him grew worried, but he knew it couldn’t have been bad, could it?

   “Captain Essen?” He calls, and she looks up at him,    “What is it Edward?” She asks, scourging her desk for missing files. He pauses, unsure of how to phrase what he was thinking. “Yes, Edward?” She asks again, this time looking at him, her eyes ushering him to talk. He swallows the lump in his throat, his eyes favoring his feet,    “The case files suggested that with the angle of the stab wound, the stab itself would have to have come from a suspect who is likely to be 5’9”.” He spat out, ridiculing himself for not asking what he originally intended to. Her eyebrows knit together,    “Thank you Edward.” She says unsure if that was really his reason for entering. Nevertheless he turns to leave, no other words being uttered. She slumps into her chair, knowing that without Y/n’s help she wouldn’t find the files. Then it clicks, “Edward,” She calls and he pauses before he closes the door.    “Yes?” He asks, peeking his head in, his face still solemn. She smiles softly at him,    “She’s on paid suspension.” 

   A knock on the door startles you. Glancing around, you second guess whether you’d actually heard it or not. However, as you begin to doze off, the knock resounds again and you groan.    "I’m coming!” you shout as you sluggishly force yourself off of the couch. You stretch as you walk and to your disdain they knock again, "I am coming to the door!” you sigh as you reach the doorknob. You hesitate, opting to instead look through the peephole. You stop, your nerves rising on edge, "Hello Nygma.” you call through the door,    “YN." His voice calls, and your heart leaps, "You've not been to work in four days now.”    "That’s correct.”    ''I- is everything alright?”    "Everything is fine.” You lie, and you can feel his hesitation, "I promise.”    “Are-” he pauses, clearly unsure, “if..” another pause, "truly?”    "Ed," you beckon, your heart racing, “I’m perfectly fine.” There's a shuffle behind the door, and you let go of the breath you’d been holding. He was gone, and a part of you left with him.

   You awake to a familiar aroma. You enter your kitchen to find tupperware of what appeared to be your favorite food.    “I didn’t…” you say aloud to yourself. You pause, trying to put things together.    “Oh, that was me.” A voice says and you whip around quickly, but pause, seeing who it was. “S-sorry.” Edward stutters having noticed your fight stance. You feel your emotions swell as you relax your stance.    “Why?” You ask as you slowly go to sit on the floor. “Why are you here Ed?” He pauses noticing your slow movements,    “I, I still had a key. And I was just leaving I promise. I don’t want to bother you. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I assumed you were just under the weather and I was worried that-”    “I’m not ‘under the weather’ Edward. I’m fine.” You repeat, "I’m fine.”    “Why do you keep saying that?” he asks, "You're not. a-and i’m not sure why, but please let me help.”    "You can’t help.”    “Why?”    "Because you can’t.”    “Why? Y/n, why?”    “Because if you help me I might fall even farther in love with you!” You shout, finally cracking, tears stream from your eyes as you completely melt, your back against the floor, “because I’m in love with you.” you cover your face, “and you’re in love with her.” you pause catching your breath, “and you won’t stop being in love with her no matter what I say or do and it's not fair because she doesn’t even deserve you.” you sigh through your hands, “and I guess that means I don’t deserve you.” your tears finally begin to slow, but your heart fastens when you realize you couldn’t hear anything over your pathetic sobs.     “You don’t deserve me,” his voice whispers, and had you not been listening for it--you wouldn’t have heard it. You inhale sharply, knowing that it was true, but not having wanted to hear it from his own mouth. You feel hands wrap around your wrists, swaying them from your face, “not when I don’t even deserve you.” Your eyes meet his, and you notice a glossiness to them. You reach a hand to his face,    “You deserve to be happy.” You say, your brain finally accepting your false truth, “and if she is what makes you happy, then she’s worth it.” he chuckles softly,   “You’re what makes me happy.” he says, eyes not leaving yours, “I’m” he pauses, “I’m sorry I didn’t see that.” You open your mouth to speak but he cuts you off with a hug, “You’re worth it, because you make me happy, and I would rather lose a thousand Kringles than lose one you.” Your arms finally wrap around him, accepting the warm embrace you hadn’t known you needed.

[something-very-special]

In the original Nier, Weiss and Papa muse about how the shades are slowly "becoming smarter" and better organized. Through the lore, we learn that some Gestalts have relapsed into mindless monsters, while others retain their sentience. Of the bosses, field enemies and sidequest shades, which Shades do you see as being sentient and which ones have relapsed?

According to the lore, all Gestalts before the Shadowlord underwent relapse, so there was actually quite a broad swath of mindless monsters out there (the ones that attack during the prologue are all therefore relapsed). After he pacts with Noir he’s the first stable Gestalt, and his body is harvested for the maso particles that he generates, which are somehow distributed to the other Gestalts as they are made in order to stabilize them. There are still a lot of Gestalts that aren’t given this treatment and thus result in the ‘feral’ Shades, but I believe that by the time the game happens most of them have gone extinct. The stable Gestalts were put into stasis to wait out the destruction of the Legion and Red Eyes monsters, to be carried out by the Replicants. The feral Gestalts were still out and about during this time, presumably also engaged in an incidental war with Legion (that is, they’re mindless and violent and these other things are mindless and violent, let’s you and him fight). The prequel game long ago proposed by Yoko Taro involved specifically a small squad of Replicants led by their android overseer going in the kill Red Eyes and end the scourge once and for all. This was basically a sentence-long pitch but my read on the full context was that Legion was the monster du jour and whatever relapsed Shades were out there had largely been eradicated already. There are, of course, still relapsed Gestalts in present day. It’s fairly clear before the game starts that Shades are considered very dangerous, to the point that settlements must be kept small and far apart and walled for their own protection... but they’re still pretty uncommon. That rarity is in part what leads to them being so feared, and that fear is probably stemmed from the main encounters with Shades being with violent, relapsed Gestalts that would randomly attack humans. The stable Gestalts mostly kept holed up in their homes waiting for the promised conclusion of Project Gestalt. There are indications of Shades that are just seen wandering around minding their own business and people retreat and shutter up in fear, but active attacks from Shades are uncommon enough that all of the settlements leave their gates wide open and, other than the Aerie, and there are plenty of conversations about how Seafront and the Village in particular are pretty much untouched by them-- even the three hanging out at the northern entrance are considered ‘concerning’. All that said, I think, over the course of the game, you don’t actually encounter any relapsed Gestalts. The violence in the game starts with an attack on the three child Shades outside the Village. The attack on the bridge crew the next day is likely in retaliation for this act. The next level of Shade activity comes after you free Weiss from the Lost Shrine and indicates that unification will be occurring soon. Some Shades start appearing in the Northern Plains-- they’re hostile but not significantly aggressive unless you attack back (or you’re carrying a fragile package); contrast to later in the game where your appearance on the map basically causes any currently-spawned Shade to start charging your position. The ones in the Aerie are doing their own thing but under a unified goal of trying to forcibly reunite with their bodies-- violent, but still sentient. There are a few out on the Southern Plains as the game progresses, including that big guy who’s killing the deer and is pretty much guaranteed to one-shot you the first time you see him, but if my theory about the sheep killing transfers over this is also a resource deprivation tactic. Seafront has significantly greater resources than anywhere else with its direct access to the ocean, but even they by the second half of the game are talking about the difficulty in getting food. There are a few Shades mentioned in specific sidequests that seem to be acting in peculiarly violent ways, but the two I’ve re-encountered so far -- the bridge Shade and the Seafront postman-eating Shade -- are positioned at choke points where they can easily disrupt trade and correspondence. Their methods are noted as being peculiar, but they’re still intelligent tactics, not random violence. I admit I might simply not be remembering other Shades from sidequests, but by and large, I don’t think so. There are some random Shades just chilling in some weird locations like the Barren Temple-- not really accomplishing anything there-- but if relapsed Gestalts are inclined toward violence it wouldn’t really make sense for them to stay somewhere that nobody actually goes. It’s certainly a possibility, but their behavior is overall consistent with the aggression we see from Shades in the second part of the game, where the Shades are acting under orders and organizing their attacks. The bosses are pretty well confirmed to be stable given the revelations of the Route B, with the only possible exception being Hook-- and I think Hook would be less ‘relapsed’ and more -- to use the scientific vernacular -- ‘bugfuck nuts’. (Tyrann isn’t relapsed -- although he’s kind of a weird case overall -- and he just really likes killin’ people so it’s not out of the realm of possibility for certain Shades to just really like killin’ people.) It has the intelligence to try and trick Kaine into embracing death, and carries out an active conversation to that end so it’s not just mindlessly parroting words even at that point. The only other consideration I might make is the Shades in the weapons facility, less because of their tactics and more because it feels like that would be one of the few places in the game where relapsed Gestalts could theoretically survive. But that also could have been a major location for Gestalt stasis, and either read leaves them all understandably pissed that nobody could figure out how to open the front door, so the difference between ‘relapsed’ and ‘stir crazy’ is negligible at best. So overall, while I believe there are still relapsed Gestalts in the world, I think the game only ever has you fight against any during the prologue (and, technically, during the flashback dream with the fortune teller).

[novantinuum]

Fandom: Steven Universe

Rating: Teen Audiences

Words: 2.2K~

Summary: A series of shorts detailing what might’ve happened in the moments after I Am My Monster, told from six different points of view.

Greg apparently had a LOT on his mind, because this was supposed to be short and instead it’s over 2000 words, ahah. Final chapter!

If you read this and enjoy, I’d greatly appreciate your support through reblogs here, or kudos/comments on AO3. Thank you! <3

Chapter warning: Allusions to past non-canon character suicide.

____

Chapter 6: Greg

Hours pass.

Bismuth makes quick and quiet work of replacing the cracked slider door in Steven’s room while he sleeps, and secures a thick tarp over the open front of the house to keep the coastal breeze somewhat at bay until she can finish her repairs to the windows and siding. She warns that might take a day or two. Garnet, meanwhile, busies herself the rest of the afternoon and evening fielding all of the Diamonds’ frazzled calls, and reassuring them of the boy’s current stability. Pooling their knowledge, Dr. Maheswaran and Peridot make sure to confirm that. Beyond some minor scarring, neither his organic or Gem half seems to exhibit any serious physical health conditions in consequence of what happened today, news which works to ever so slightly lift the air of the household. With no other concrete tasks to complete, Pearl, Amethyst, Lapis, Connie, and Greg all rotate between sweeping debris off the floor, wandering the beach to mentally recuperate, and dutifully sitting at Steven’s side as he rests. It may not sound like a lot, but alas the level of emotional labor demanded by such a situation is immense.

All in all, the sun’s long since dipped below the horizon by the time Greg finally collapses onto the mattress laid out in the back of his van, craving if but a moment of privacy and respite from all the chaos. It’s been... an insufferably long day, to put it lightly. Busy. Tons of cleaning, and intercepting nosy neighbors, and bedside monitoring...

He offered to take the first night shift watching Steven a few minutes ago, but Pearl must’ve noticed the dark circles creeping ever wider under his eyes, because she proceeded to gently overturn his offer and remind him of humanity’s daily sleep requirement. And she’s right, of course. He can’t stay up as long as he used to in his twenties anymore. Plus, he probably deserves some time to himself after everything that’s transpired. There’s plenty of Gems left in the house who can keep watch, after all. Steven will be fine for a few hours. Surely nothing else can happen when he’s asleep, right?

 Right??

Exhaustedly slumping against the side wall, Greg offers a glassy, vacant stare at the contacts list of his phone, roughly wiping the damp from his cheeks with his other hand as his thumb hovers over one of the numbers. Does he dare drag someone else into this whole situation? Surely the kinder solution would be to refrain from widening the circle any more, from letting anyone else learn about today’s harrowing events. And yet if he fails to find a proper outlet for the raw emotions all of this has violently hauled to the surface, he fears he just may suffer a mental break himself, repressed memories bursting like a vicious flood through the dam he desperately tried to seal them behind all those years back. Much of this is just... far too familiar.

His phone slips right through his trembling hands as the cruel reality of what he witnessed today finally begins to carve its indelible presence in his mind. A strained sob leaking from between his tightly pursed lips, he buries his head between his knees, clutching at the worn bottom hem of his jean shorts like an infant to a parent’s finger. Small. Vulnerable.

Helpless.

His son... oh stars, his only son, he—

He can’t talk about any of this to the Gems; they wouldn’t wholly grasp the uniquely human nature of his concerns. And he doesn’t feel comfortable discussing these matters with Dr. Maheswaran, especially not after the stern words she dealt to him back at the hospital. He’s burdened her enough already, by this point. No, there’s only one fellow human he feels close enough with to engage in this sort of conversation.

Taking a deep, cleansing breath, he reaches for the phone he dropped on the mattress. Turns it on. Nervously clamps down on his bottom lip as he selects his cousin’s contact and dials.

The passing heartbeats slamming against his ribs are almost nauseating in their needy clamor as he waits, his calloused fingers tapping against the thick rubber of his phone case. Andy’s never been a particularly tech savvy guy, so honestly, it’s well within reason he might not even carry his phone on his person to answer. And that’d be fine, really. In fact, he might even prefer it, since he’s still not confident he’s emotionally prepared to discuss any of this at this precise moment, anyways. But just as he’s beginning to undergo mental preparations for what on Earth he might leave as a voicemail message, his older family member finally picks up.

“Greg?” Andy’s gravelly voice rings through, sounding somewhat tinny through their connection. “Hey, it’s been a while, hasn’t it? How’s the ol’ Universe family unit doin’?”

“Not great, honestly,” he narrowly manages in response, his throat constricting tight. “That’s kinda why I’m calling, if you have the time to listen?”

“Heh. I’m a drifter, you know I ain’t got no schedule. Carry on.”

“Well... geeze, how do I put this. There was, uh... a bit of an incident today. With Steven.”

“An incident?” his cousin questions, marked worry immediately painting his tone. “The kid okay??”

He falls silent for a few seconds upon this question, threading his hyperactive digits through the split ends in his hair on automatic, a stress-induced habit. “Unclear,” he says, a slight quiver making itself intimately known in his words. “I mean, physically, at the moment, yes, but—“

He cuts off once more. It suddenly occurs to him that little of today’s events would make sense to Andy without providing the appropriate context. Or, at least, what little context he’s capable of giving as a father. It’s still terrifying to admit the truth to himself— that he doesn’t possess the full story. That he hasn’t been paying close enough attention. That, in many ways, he willfully blinded himself to all the troubling events transpiring around his son throughout the years, foolishly believing that if he didn’t involve himself... that if he simply stayed out of the Gems’ hair... everything would go to plan, and Steven would finally receive the training he needed. He didn’t expect things would grow so complicated.

He didn’t expect that his teenage son would have to march into battle carrying nothing but his wits and a shield time and time again.

With a weary sigh and a quick apology, to which Andy brushes off, Greg begins to weave a verbal picture of everything that’s transpired across the last few days. First, the hospital call. Rushing home from tour, only to find his son giant and flushed pink, literally filling an entire room with the sheer volume of his trauma. The shattered x-ray in his chart, hinting towards hidden hurts that— before all this— even Steven seemingly hadn’t processed or quantified. Then, the road trip. The unwanted reminders of his childhood. That blasted CD. His expression sobers as he describes the fateful argument they had on the road home, one which lead to his son accidentally breaking the steering wheel and flipping the van. Next... his disappearance. No texts for four whole days, which is so unlike him. He was worried sick. And the next time he saw him, he was eight feet tall, glowing, and painfully manic in behavior, with each new sentence spilling from his mouth revealing an even more heartbreaking picture of the sort of poor mental state he’d spiraled into. It was nothing short of a father’s worst nightmare, propelled into horrifying, vivid reality.

Nothing in this corner of the galaxy could’ve prepared him for the primal surge of terror and anguish he was engulfed within when that nightmare distorted and transformed even further.  

His only son... colossal and coated in thick scales and spines, sclera black as night... roughly clawing at this unfamiliar form, smashing his skull against the cliffside, roaring with an inner pain so primal that the sound now haunts the depths of his very soul—

“I- you remember what happened with cousin Jo, back when we were young?” Greg says softly once he’s caught Andy up with the details of situation, his voice frail and unsteady, the tone of a man helplessly marooned amidst his anxieties. “Before she was sent to that mental rehab place? Well, I’m... with the addition of Gem magic, it almost felt like that. I mean, h-he’s fine for now, we have him resting, but... but I’m just so scared he won’t come out of this, like her, a-a-and that one day he’ll—“

A mewling sob bubbles up in his throat, swiftly severing that train of thought. N-no. No, he refuses to even utter that horrible idea out loud! After all, a world without Steven in it isn’t worth envisioning.

Andy’s eventual response— albeit tinged with a justified shade of awkwardness, given the emotionally charged nature of this conversation— is filled with genuine compassion, and for that he’s dearly thankful.

“Aw, hell... Greg, I’m- I’m so sorry. I, uh- I could fly over, if any of ya’ need me? For emotional support, or whatever?”

Upon this kind offer, he inhales deep to steady his breath, and wipes away dewy beads of moisture from the corner of his eyes, desperately hoping that he can mitigate the pitiful wavering of his voice over the phone. He’s gotta fight to reliably keep some form of composure in front of other people, damnit. His kid can’t have his dad breaking down around him too, of course.

“No, you’ve got places to be,” he replies evenly, pressing his thumb and pointer against one of his aching temples. “I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

“You ain’t asking,” he retorts, the eye-roll evident in his tone. “I’m offering. Listen- family takes care of family, y’hear? And I’m only about a day’s flight away, anyways. It’s really the least I could do.”

He sighs. Absentmindedly tugs at a thick strand of his hair. Offers a long, contemplative stare at the rickety age-worn handle affixed to the inside of the van’s back doors. Truth be told— ignoring his deep-seated guilt at dragging Andy into all this to begin with— he’d love having another family member around to embrace, especially a human one who can more deeply understand the crux of his anxieties about this delicate situation. But in the end, he shouldn’t be prioritizing his own feelings and comfort. He’s not the one in crisis, his son is.

Desperately hoping he’s making the right choice, Greg flexes his fingers, and acquiesces to the offer, on one condition: only if Steven consents to having visitors, once he’s awake.

Andy hums in approval. “Understood. Don’t wanna overload the poor guy with any surprise visits, or whatever.”

“Yeah. The last thing I want to do is push him too hard, too fast.”

He pauses, braving waves of parental grief to spend a moment to reflect on Steven’s emotional progression over the past few months... a stray negative comment here, an unusually forlorn mannerism there... All of them events that, in isolation, wouldn’t point to anything more than your standard ‘teenage angst,’ but when observed in strong, unceasing patterns, begin to reveal deeply harrowing truths about the state of an individual’s self-image. How did he never notice? Why wasn’t he there to catch him in his fall?

“I think he hates himself,” he says quietly, his voice hitching up at the end. “He didn’t say so directly, but- but I can sense it. And I don’t know how to help him, I-I... I don’t know if I can.”

“Nonsense,” his cousin scoffs, “‘course ya’ know what to do! What does any good father worth their salt give their sons?”

Unable to evade the momentary temptation of feeling miserable and sorry for himself, he slumps back against the wall, giving a weak shrug that his current audience would never see.

“I dunno, maybe a stable, safe childhood? Not growing up poor as dirt in a van?”

“No, you numbskull,” Andy immediately cuts back, “you love on ‘em and support ‘em just as much as you always have! Y’ show him that you’re always gonna be there for him, and that he can trust you with anything.”

“But I haven’t always been there for him,” he exclaims petulantly. “That’s the whole problem! That’s one of the reasons he ended up like this.”

“Greg,” he says, his voice softer this time. “Listen to me, ain’t nobody perfect, okay? We’ve all made our mistakes with people. Me? More than most. But what we can’t do is let those mistakes cloud what’s happening right now. Y’know, that’s one of the hard lessons I’ve had to learn over the past two years, that you can’t always make things about you. Because right now, it’s about him. He’s dealin’ with some hard feelings, and he needs all of our help. So, let’s help him. Together. We’ll start with one foot in front of us, and we can take it from there. All right?”

Closing his weary, exhausted eyes and pressing his thumb firm against his still-aching temple, Greg Universe gives a long sigh and finally concedes to the reality that— just as he’s not solely responsible for the decline of his son’s mental state— no man should be an island when it comes to the task of supporting one’s journey towards recovery. As with everything, the extended Universe family unit will face the future together, hand-in-hand. Step-by-step.

“Yeah,” he breathes. “Yeah, I think that’s do-able.”

[sokumotanaka]

Name 1 time Team RWBY didn't care about or help people in the show!

Well yeah

Yang destroyed a nightclub with innocent patrons in it, no, before anyone assumes so they weren't STILL in when it crumbled but Yang walked in enticed a fight and them when the dude was gonna let it slide instigated it. Weather Jr. was a bad guy or not she brought a fight to a place with innocent civilians and didn't even glace back or feel bad once.

(yang's gonna get alot of these, be on the look out.)

And no these aren't in order nor am I gonna remember every single instant cause you idiots get uppity about technicalities like how "DUUUR Ozpin isn't their boss, he's their leader." Crap.

vv read more for mobile vv

In volume 1

- Yang calls a stranger she never met a lost cause cause she wasn't "graced" by yang's presence.

- Velvet was getting bullied and they all sat there, people sworn to protect the peace just watched racism happen (Mimics IRL too!) but only cared when jaune was involved.

- "You're discriminatory!" "I'm a victim!"

- The filthy faunus from the boat

- weiss went on a racist rant about faunus and never apologized to Blake or Sun. She then worded it as if she was doing weiss a favor for being the way she was.

- "I lieeeed" Thanks jaune you're creepy and an asshole

In volume 2

- Yang barely knows Blake and is shoving her to prove a point, even if she cares about her, shoving a stressed out and tired woman then inviting yourself for a hug is super uncomfortable.

- they drag a mech to a freeway sending cars flying and they dont even talk about it or try to see if those people are okay.

- Faunus are lied to by humans that the train they're taking that the explosives will be used to topple the government, the characters never try to explain that roman is just gonna use them as bodies and they could all try to stop him and disarm the bombs and try fixing the government together. There's never a talk.

- They seal the entrance and murder a bunch of faunus and then take a nap.

In volume 3

- Even if mercury is a villain from yang's perspective he's a fellow challenger and she punches him way after his aura breaks which was considered illegal.

- Pretty much everyone literally going "In this friendly competition, let's smack talk that we're gonna make the other bleed." (I know who says that but Yatsu literally is like "I wont hold back." like this is suppose to be FRIENDLY.

- Yang gets pissed that blake registers this thing called fear and guilt and runs away cause she blames herself for her Ex's mental stability. But later Yang admits she wanted her there physically for her benefit, fuck whatever blake wanted I guess.

In volume 4

- "Oh no we gotta hurry to haven, let's walk."

- Ren: I should probably tell them there's a powerful grimm at my old home and they're carrying an injured man but I dont wanna. (Confirmed by miles btw that he wanted to show that there's a bit of selfishness in that decision...but If you're my friend and there's a shark in the water I'll still tell you? Cause I'm not an asshole.)

- Everything to do with Qrow

- Everything to do with jaune's manpain

-Blake about to draw her weapon on a ship captain

- Weiss doesn't' even yell no or reach out as her summon is about to attack a person.

In volume 5

- Ozpin not teaching ruby to use her silver eyes or even telling her.

- Yang literally punching a dude in a bar (No I'm not saying he didnt deserve it. But Miles and kerry call it yang brushing him off in the commentary and you dont brush a person off by grabbing them so they couldn't be brushed off, that's the opposite XD)

- Them arriving in mistral and not being in a hurry to tell anyone in charge about cinder, what she plans to do and anything about beacon.

- Oscar literally projecting on ruby for no reason (honestly we didn't need a second jaune, ruby barely get's development but that's a whole other rant.)

- "Humans didn't do this WE did." Bitch they just live there don't tell them they gotta EARN equality, was this written by a brainlet? (Yes it was)

- Ruby punching oscar a kid with no battle experience square in the face during sparring and cheering after.

- Literally forgiving Ironwood, genocidal ass but instantly going "Let's just murder leo the minority. No jail time, no "why's" just end them from Ozpin.

volume 6

- TURN OFF THE TURRETS PROTECTING THE TRAIN AND KILLING GRIMM THE PEOPLE ARE SCARED XD

- Yang trying to intimidate maria for going "hey fighting in a blizzard is dangerous for two reasons, 1. it's a blizzard and 2. Grimm sense all of your guy's anger, we should find shelter." And yang tries to tell her to shut up XD

- Qrow punching a child regardless of his feelings on ozpin, he's still hosting a child's body

- Team RWBY drawing their weapons on oscar

- Oscar helping them find jinn's name and kinda holding ozpin back and then after Qrow punches him yang balls up her fist and demands he bring him back out. (No matter how stressed you are, oscar is still a child and if your uncle is gonna punch, you the more rash of the two will definitely punch.

- Them being invited into jaune's sister's house and jaune putting a hole in the wall and it never comes up with the couple.

- Jaune yelling at oscar and grabbing him by his collar and for some reason the kid looks up to him???

- Ruby's stupid "we never needed adult help" speech while she sits in an adult couple's house and got lead there by adults and learned how to use her silver eyes to save her and her friends by an elderly lady literally standing behind her. (Great, selfish)

- Salem (she isn't a hero but people for some reason sympathize with her) Literally watches people get thanos snapped and just goes "I'll bring more." She had to spend at least a week with these people to form alliances, and get to know some of them and this was all for ONE GUY! This is literally what people laugh at Obito for it's the exact same motivation of making a pile of people's bodies all of their benefit.

- Also Salem: Walking through the empty world literally going "oh no with no people....how will I get my revenge!?" This is shippuden Esc Writing.

Future volumes

(So I stopped at vol 6 thank god but a friend of mine told me what happened in the future arcs.)

- Literally NOW weiss owns up for her family and her complicit attitude only for a new faunus to go "well it doesn't involve me so I dont care."

- Ren calling out yang's rash attitude and then her stepping infront of him fist balled, because again yang thinks she's a god and getting her ideas and thoughts questioned or challenge invites PHYSICAL VIOLENCE.

And no I dont care about future volumes so dont come into my inbox preaching "Oh well jaune ran into a house and saved some kittens so that should absolve all of their heavy flaws cause I'm a smart." : )

[vegetalass]

If you come back to this, would you consider doing hcs for the rdr2 boys coping with bad breakups? 👀🙈💖👉👈😳

I love your stuff btw! Hope the hiatus is going well and you're having fun being absorbed into new fandom stuff <3

JSKajhdhajfskhjdkajsh AHHHHHHHHHHH YOU ARE TOO SWEET WTF🥺����So I just went ahead and wrote this request for you LOOOOOL😎💘😳🤠

even tho I would still say I’m on hiatus.... I was just thinking about Mister Arthur Morgan today and how much i want to sit on his lap and hug him and kiss his cheeks and hold his face against my chest.... So I figure this is as good a time as any to write some stuff for rdr2...

Plus... I really am happy about the fact that people like my work enough to still send me asks!!! I miss the rdr2 fandom a lot tbh because as I’m sure you all have been know... The bnha fandom is a little..... wack tbh..... But regardless, I am having as much fun as i possibly can under the circumstances!!! Theres a lot of good content there... 

and just in case u like bnha... you can actually find me at @ihatebnha if you want to read any of my current BNHA stuff (tho im sorta taking a break there too temporarily). Either way, even if you don’t, i appreciate u all for sticking with me and I MISS U GUYS so i hope this does u all some justice!

anyway... i hope this is what you were looking for because I LOVE UUUUUU!! ENJOY💚🧡❤️

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Arthur

First of all………. If you break up with Arthur I personally will come beat you up

Secondly….

Honestly, he probably just goes completely numb

He doesn’t have the emotional stability or strength to handle unpacking how or why it’s happening

You ask to break up with him and his soul leaves his body and he’s just “Ok.🙂Whatever you think is best, baby.”

And that’s the end of it. Won’t even let you explain.

This means don’t prank him by pretending to break up with him either because you’ll accidentally kill him

Like he genuinely probably thinks that he deserves whatever it is that made you want to break up with him and that there’s really nothing he can do to feel better about it

Even if was just something like, long distance problems or needing a break

This also hurts so badly because I feel like… getting to the point where Arthur even wants to date you takes FOREVER… He really really needs to trust and love the person who he’s with…

And so to see them leave would just break his heart up into pieces and he wouldn’t be able to handle that all over again

He just… becomes a ghost

Anyone from the gang even mentions it or asks how he is and he just tells them he’s fine and doesn’t need to talk about it

Even if he really is aching deep down… He just can’t bring himself to talk about it because it still doesn’t make any sense to him

And honestly, he just doesn’t want things to hurt any more than they already do by acknowledging them or facing them head on

So he just submits to it all being his fault, it was the right thing to do, that you’re happier without him, etc. and permanently shuts himself off

If you left him, that would be the absolute final straw and he would just throw himself into his work and never look back

And honestly wouldn’t even notice if someone else was making moves on you, that’s how out of it he is.

You wouldn’t even notice something was wrong unless you TRULY knew Arthur

He’s a tough cookie

John

John is the guy who acts like he’s fine if anyone sees him but cries 24/7 when he’s alone

If anyone asks him about it he’s like “I don’t care, it’s fine and I respect their decision… I’m a man, not a baby.”

But the truth is…. Sir… You ARE baby

Honestly…. He’s just saying all that so people don’t really know how much he’s hurting or think he’s weak and try to help

And in a modern setting, Abigail, Arthur, Hosea, anyone really, can’t go to his apartment because he’s lost all motivation to take care of himself

Dishes piled up, laundry everywhere, he’s been wearing the same pajamas for a week, his trash is full of microwave meal packages… It’s just so fucking bad

Single Man Shit

Probably goes through bouts of rage too

Was he not good enough? Did you think you weren’t good enough? Was it the fact that he has Abigail and Jack? Is he too ugly for someone pretty like you?  

It’s in these moments that he starts throwing stuff around and kicking chairs and whatnot

I imagine it’s all pretty nonviolent but he still just wants to make a mess to release all that pent up frustration

But he always just ends up on the floor or in bed crying again because he really doesn’t understand what went wrong since he was trying so hard to be a good partner

He wanted to be good for you :(

At least to make up for what he did to Abigail

Probably a couple months after the breakup he starts feeling better…

Picks his laundry up and does the dishes and starts to open up to the gang again

He’s definitely still sad when he thinks about it all… But he knows he’ll get over it as long as you seem happy from afar

If any of the other boys from camp try to make a move on you, he does his best to ignore it… Knowing it’s not his place to speak for you anymore, even if seeing you with someone else does make him sad

And he probably takes some extra time to spend with Abigail and Jack, too

There’s really no one like your family (even if they’re chosen) to make you feel better in situations like this

(Especially since they went through the same thing as him BY him)

Karma’s a bitch, lol

Charles

Charles... My love….. My baby…….

He takes a while to fall apart because honestly, he’s just so confused

He definitely does not recover quickly, but of course, appears to function kind of normally

If anything, he just gets more quiet and distant than before, simply because he needs a lot of time and space to think about everything

And because looking at you hurts so badly

When you mention breaking up, he probably just stands up and walks away

And if you chase after him trying to explain, he’ll tell you that you don’t need to justify yourself, and that he just needs to be alone

However, deep down, he’s gutted and really just needs the space to process what you said and then calm down

He doesn’t want to face the gang, and possibly you, again, crying, hence why he doesn’t come back for a while, but he knows that he can’t just run away from everything

He never thought that you’d be capable of hurting him in the way that you did

And he wonders what the final straw that pushed you over the edge was

He definitely saw you staying together for a long time, and had a lot of ideas for your future, so the breakup was especially surprising and devastating for that reason alone

And he would probably never want to speak to you again

Not really because he hated you, but because it would be too emotional for him to be around you knowing you didn’t feel the same as him

And even though he’s okay with emotions, the gang just isn’t exactly the right space for him to deal with them

Though he probably eventually talks about it with Arthur after a couple months, once he finds another normal, and bonds with him over the shared experience

He would never be able to ask you this, but he wonders if the reason you left him was for the same reasons he’s shunned in society

I think that would hurt him the most… if you didn’t want to be seen with him in public

Even though he knows that it’s unlikely, since he didn’t want to hear your reasons for leaving, it’s something that he thinks about

Even if it would hurt him to see you with someone else, he wouldn’t do anything about it

And as always, he’d just stay quiet, watching

Micah

Micah blames you

Everything is your fault. Everything.

Oh, you want to break up with him? When he’s been so nice to you? So good? He’d literally do anything for you, and you’re not happy with that? You’re such an ungrateful bitch! Fuck you! He never even wanted to date you in the first place, so it’s your fault for making him love you. Sorry he tried soooo hard.  

Any semblance of sadness he feels about losing you turns to rage so quickly since he just really cannot fathom why you’d leave him

Genuinely thinks he’s the best boyfriend you’ve ever had and ever will

SIR…????

Despite his anger, he probably is sad deep down… He just doesn’t really recognize it as sadness in the first place

His chest aches when he thinks about you? His eyes sting and burn when he looks at you? His stomach hurts at any and every thought of you?

You’re just an ugly witch who wants him dead.

He has never felt any of these things before, and frankly, he hates feeling like this.

And absolutely refuses to admit to himself that maybe… MAYBE… he just misses you and wants you back…

Honestly though, you will never get word nor wind of this, and before long, he really just does start to hate you.

If you weren’t in the gang, and were ever in a situation where you saw him again, he’d try to make your life a hell.

He’d tease you in front of whoever you were with, talking about how he’s probably the best fuck you’d ever have and that “if you still wanted to fuck him,” he “wouldn’t blame you…” and might even think about it going at it on more time

In a modern setting, he’s definitely a hate fucking type of ex

And if he ever saw you with a new boy, he would probably try to lay some hands on them for even thinking about touching you

AND STILL doesn’t realize that this means he still loves you… But whatever

If you break up with him, guaranteed you’re probably never getting back together

Dutch

Dutch is a tough one… I feel like it really depends on how long you’ve been together, the reason why you want to breakup, and how much value he has for the you and relationship itself

I think he’d be more upset about a long term relationship ending than anything and he’d definitely try to argue with you about any of the problems you bring up

He definitely hits you with the, “you should’ve known what you were getting into,” which, honestly, is a pretty fair point

He doesn’t actually want you to leave him, though… He just doesn’t really want to change

Which is why the whole thing ends up being so T O X I C

But if he realizes that you are actually serious about breaking up, he isn’t above saying that he’ll put the work into fixing everything

Though that’s kind of a lie, since he’s mostly just saying it to get you to stay

If the argument gets too intense, he’ll let you walk away

But only because he’s going to brainstorm about how to get you back

I’m sure this is a given, but none of the other boys at camp are allowed to even think about getting close to you

It wasn’t so bad when you and Dutch were still together, but if he wants you back, everyone is a threat

Arthur and John are given direct orders to not even comfort you… And Dutch even tries to get Miss Grimshaw to be mean to you

At least so he can swoop in and save you… Thinking that you’ll run right back into his arms if no one except him is nice to you

Because that’s where you belong

If he doesn’t manage to succeed in winning you back, the moment he realizes that everything is over, he will 100% start ignoring you

And don’t put it past him to try show off the fact that he’s found someone new to fuck

Honestly, since he’s the leader, at this point, he’d probably just be looking for a good way to get rid of you

Nothing violent, just find a little brothel he can pop you in when the gang’s about to leave some random town

Seems like a good idea to him… Since if he’s not special, no one is.

Same reason why, if you cheat on him, you will never see the whites of his eyes again

Much less anyone from the gang

Kieran

To give Kieran some credit... He’s probably the most in touch with his emotions

He doesn’t respond very well to the breakup, just says okay and lets you walk away, but he’s not above accepting the truth and just crying about it for a while

First and foremost, you need to be happy, even if it means without him

Part of him wants to beg for you to stay so badly… Hold onto the bottom of your shirt and cry… But I know that he probably thinks he doesn’t deserve to and would be able to stop himself

Obviously, you know better than him about everything so why would you be wrong about breaking up?

His work definitely lags and he ends up spending more time with the animals than anyone else, but he’s okay at holding himself together

No one would even know he’s still suffering unless they talked to him about it

Which they don’t, really, and honestly he’s sort of glad, because it gives him a lot of time to think about everything

Which is why, even months after the breakup, if he hasn’t found someone new, he still thinks about what it would be like if you stayed

Daydreams about cuddling with you, about dancing with you, about brushing the horses with you, starting a family, everything…

He wishes it were his so badly

And so seeing you with another boy, especially if it were someone else at camp, would absolutely kill him

And yet, he’d still manage to keep it all to himself. Nothing but his greedy eyes left

Self esteem gone forever… He’d take you back in a heartbeat

Doesn’t help that the poor baby definitely gets clowned by Dutch and Micah about not being able to keep “a good fuck” around

It really hurts… But in the end, he knows they’re right  

Javier

Javier probably gets over everything the quickest out of all of the boys.

I just see him as having the most romantic experience out of all of them, so he understands how relationships (and breakups) work

His logic is, why would he want to be with someone who doesn’t want to be with him?

Which makes getting over you faster than normal

Especially since, regardless of why you wanted to leave, he’s going to respect your wishes

Definitely a little peeved at first though because he thought things were fine between the two of you

He’s just not going to bother trying to get you to stay

Especially since he knows that he can be kind of flirty with people even when he’s with you

That being said, if he sees any of the other boys at camp trying to get with you, he’s going to be BIG MAD

First of all, he was there first, so they should know better than to touch someone else’s things

And second of all, it would just feels like they’re showing off the fact that you left him, rather than the other way around

But honestly, he probably wouldn’t care if you found a stranger to mess with. It’s not like they know your relationship history, and honestly, he knows it wouldn’t be fair if he were ever to find someone else he likes.

So he’s fine watching you run around

It’s only ever late at night, if it’s been a while since you’ve spoken to him, or he’s feeling lonely, that he thinks about what things would be like if you were still with him

He wonders what really made you leave, and if you were honest with him during the relationship

Overall, he’d be okay, but would definitely still be down to fuck if you ever wanted! You may not want to be with each other anymore, but it doesn’t change the fact you guys had some bomb ass sex

Sean

Sean is another boy who’s going to be a bit more angry than sad

That being said, he’s no where near as bad as Micah and knows that the anger comes from the sadness

He’s just extremely frustrated that things didn’t work out, and resents the fact that you didn’t even want to try and fix things with him

It’s not like he really blames you for that… But he wishes that he could

Especially since throughout it all, even now, he doesn’t actually hate you, and still wishes that you would come back

He’s knows his personality can be a little overwhelming, but he would’ve been willing to change if it made you happy!

But honestly, since he doesn’t need to anymore, everything about him just gets a bit… Worse

Constantly making a show of showing off for the other girls at camp, always trying to flirt with the girls at the saloon, talking the boys’ heads off about anything and everything…

Just to distract himself and prove that he’s doing fine… That you didn’t hurt him at all, and he doesn’t need you

But even he’s not all that convinced

If any of the other boys at camp start messing around with you, he’ll definitely start a fight with them, feeling like were just doing it to piss him off

He’d lose, though, and would end up just going to bed and crying.

If he saw you flirting with a stranger, he’d be equally as mad, but he probably wouldn’t do anything other than get super drunk in front of you to ruin the mood

Eventually he starts feeling more like himself, and it definitely helps if you don’t treat him weirdly, but he finds that he does still think of you when he sees cute married girls or children, wondering what he would’ve had if things didn’t go wrong.

Especially since he also gets teased by the gang for not being able to hold it down… Despite his constant talk