#Second something went wrong. The fact he's still supposed to take care of kids and maintain the whole place while running 24/7 in bright

[apomaro-mellow]

Corroded Coffin ransoms Steve Part 1/?

From this post

Steve couldn't really see who was attacking him. But that didn't matter.

"Grab him! GRAB HIM!"

"Shit! AH! Fuck!"

He wasn't gonna let a bunch of random guys get the best of him. Who cared that it was four on one? They had the element of surprise, sure. Steve hadn't expected to get jumped in the space between the Hawkins gym and his car. Serves him right for trying to get extra basketball practice, he supposed.

Steve felt pretty good about holding his own. Two of them were holding themselves where he'd landed a good blow. He could finish this. There was only one guy left (the other must've bolted) and his car was in sight. Steve threw one more punch and booked it, reaching for his keys in his jacket pocket when pain bloomed on his entire left side. Then his right decided to match it when he hit the ground.

'Did I just get hit by a fucking car?'

There was screaming coming from above him but it was cut off as Steve's world went black.

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

Eddie took a deep drag, holding it in before releasing his breath.

"You don't like it", Gareth said, half finished beer in hand.

"Didn't say I didn't like it", Eddie said.

"Dude, we can tell when you approve and when you don't", Jeff pushed up from the crate of whatever Doug's dad kept in the garage.

Doug was nursing a beer too. His second one. "What don't you like about a battle of the bands? We've got the sound."

"And the personality!", Gareth added.

Eddie nodded. "All solid points. But we're missing the money."

"Entry fee's only fifty bucks, man", Jeff said. "I know you got that much."

"$50 to get it", Eddie began to list off his fingers. "Gas money to get us all the way to Chicago-"

"It's like three hours away, Eds", Doug griped.

"Not done! Plus food, plus hotels, plus fixing up our equipment. Jeff and I both need new strings if we're gonna have any chance of winning."

"Well fuck me, I guess", Doug rolled his eyes.

"Dude, the bass guy always gets the most puss at these things. You don't need new strings", Gareth said. "If anything, my drums-"

"If I don't need new strings, why should you get new drums?", Doug argued.

"Ladies, ladies, you're both beautiful", Jeff came between them. "And need I remind you, we're trying to get Eddie on board? Not double our expenses?"

"We're already over budget", Eddie said. "'Sides, we'd be taking my van to get there and old Bessie needs some work done too. 'Specially if she's gonna be hauling our stuff."

It wasn't that Eddie didn't want to go. He just wasn't particularly keen on following pipe dreams. Chicago wasn't far-far. But what were the odds of them going all the way there and hitting it big? It wasn't strictly a metal competition. There'd be rock and probably pop, maybe even country too, who knew. The point was, metal wasn't much of a crowd-pleaser unless the crowd was already primed for it.

He snuffed the joint in his hand and then lit up another one that they all passed around while coming up with get rich quick schemes. It started innocent enough with the suggestions. Blood donations (Doug hated needles, Eddie hated hospitals), garage sale ("Nobody wants our shit."), and even if they all somehow got like three part time jobs by tomorrow, they wouldn't earn enough to get Eddie on board with this whole idea.

The more they talked about it, the more Eddie got riled up. Why should they be left out of something just because they didn't have the money for it? That was bullshit! There were people out there drowning in money and between the four of them they couldn't scrounge up enough just to get them over the state line?

"Blame whoever you want, but the fact is, money's been in the wrong hands for too damn long!", Eddie said, jumping to his feet. "They tell us all the goddamn time that kids are starvin' in Africa but are they doing anything about it?"

"Not a damn thing", Gareth shook his head.

"Meanwhile, there's kids over here that are starving! And they're still not liftin' a finger to help", Eddie gestured with the joint in his hand, half finished between him and Jeff. "No, the rich fucks of the world don't give, they only take. So we've gotta take it back somehow."

"What? Rob a bank?", Jeff snickered.

The others snickered in return at the absurdity of the idea but Eddie was thinking. Of course not a bank heist. But there were people in Hawkins with money...yeah...for sure there was.

"Not a bank", Eddie said, starting to pace around. But there's a couple of rich bastards in town who could stand to part with their cash."

"You wanna rob the mayor's house or something?", Doug offered. He was on his third beer.

"Eddie's got the stealth of a newborn deer", Gareth said.

"Bad analogy, Gare-bear. Prey animals are notoriously stealthy, even from birth", Eddie grinned.

"Still though. If it's really valuable, we wouldn't be able to pawn it without painting a target on our backs", Gareth sighed.

"Wait, what if we did a ransom?", Doug said.

"Yeah, yeah", Jeff nodded. "We get somethin' valuable and basically sell it back to 'em."

Eddie grinned. "A ransom, huh? Now, stay with me boys, but what if-what IF we took someone. Someone important enough that his folks would go through hell or high water to get him back?"

The other three were silent as the realization dawned on them. Eddie could only be talking about one person.

"You're crazy man...", Jeff said, taking the joint from his hand to use it for himself.

"Like a fox", Eddie smirked.

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

When they talked about it after sobering up, it still sounded like a good idea. The target: Steve Harrington. Rich enough to have a big house, a nice car, and always have the newest things. Dumb enough that he should be easy to get. Sure, he probably had some muscle, being a jock and all, but Harrington notoriously didn't get into fights. Which probably meant he couldn't. But Eddie and his friends had been in scraps before. The perks of being an outcast, he supposed.

Getting him alone was probably going to be the hardest part of all of this. But Eddie happened to know that sometimes Harrington would come to the school's gym early to practice. It was the perfect opportunity.

It meant they had to wake up early on break and take Bessie and sit in the lot without the heat on, freezing their tits while they waited on Harrington to come out of the gym.

"Why are we w-waiting?", Gareth asked, shivering.

"Need him fatigued and all that", Eddie said. Despite the layers, his teeth were clacking. But if the motor was on, Harrington would hear and they'd lose the element of surprise. He reminded himself that this had to be the hardest part - waiting in the cold, especially when they left the van to be closer to the door of the gym. The masks they were provided only minimal warmth.

But after grabbing and bagging Harrington, they'd leave the note, his parents would get it and they'd have their money and return their hostage by Christmas. Easy peasy.

They didn't count on Steve actually being able to hold his own against all four of them. Maybe it was the fact that they'd been out in the cold, maybe it was the lack of muscle mass between them or general lack of coordination. Whatever it was, somehow, Harrington was wrecking their shit single handedly.

Eddie wasn't the best thinker when he panicked. But right now Gareth was holding his nose and Jeff and Doug wouldn't be far behind. So he ran. To his van.

He saw Harrington making a break for it and stomped down on the gas.

Eddie didn't really register what he'd done until he heard Gareth screaming.

"Shut up! Shut up man!", Jeff shouted back.

"Get him in the van!", Doug screamed.

"The note! Shit, the note! Put it in his windshield!", Eddie reminded him.

It was chaos until they were a good distance away from the school. Nothing could be heard but their panting. Steve Harrington was limp and unconscious in the back of his van. Eddie didn't stop until they were at Gareth's.

"How long are your parents gone for?", he asked as they tied Steve down to a chair in the basement.

"They won't be back until New Year's. My aunt just had a new baby." He was holding his nose again now that Steve was secure.

"How long until he wakes up, do you think?", Doug asked.

Steve's gasp as he suddenly sat up straight and struggled against his ropes answered that question. Thankfully, they all still had their masks on.

"Munson?"

"Well, fuck, these things don't work for shit", Gareth said as he pulled his mask off.

"Who the hell are you?", Steve raised a brow.

Eddie just barely held back the bark of laughter. This was stupid, this was so stupid! But they were in it now. And apparently Steve Harrington knew him by...by some defining characteristic.

"How'd you know it was me?", he asked as he took the mask off.

"Your hair's pretty distinct", Steve said. "What the hell is this? What's going on?"

Eddie grinned and bent over, getting into Steve's face. "Well, Stevie dearest, all you need to know is that you're going to make us very rich."

Part 2

[heartmix]

Injury Prone - Andrei Svechnikov

Pairing: Andrei Svechnikov x wife!reader

Word Count: 500+

Warning: Child injury, didn't care to proofread that much

A/N: I love this man so much. He and Freddie are why I love the canes to much.

Masterlist / Hockey Masterlist

"You know you're never going to hear the end of this right." You glared at your husband who slumped more into his seat, feeling the harsh glare you were throwing him.

Your son was at that age where he wanted to do everything his father was doing. Skating was the start of it. Turns out he had his father's skills because in no time he was skating with ease. The newest fixation was golf. Andrei constantly went golfing now that it was the off-season. It was only a matter of time before the mini version of him wanted to try golf also. 

Golf was supposed to be the way safer option which is why you weren't worried about an all-day boys trip. Unluckily for the boys, the need to impress the 5-year-old was a priority during the trip. That top priority resulted in your son falling out of the golf cart while being taken on a joy ride up and down the hills of the course. 

Normally a fall would have no effect on the little boy. The amount of times he's fallen while learning to skate and then getting back up one would think he wasn't human. That boy has been injuring himself since he could crawl. But when you saw the way he was favoring his arm when he got back home you knew something was wrong. 

"Oh come on, did you see how excited he was to get an x-ray? Little dude is charming all the nurses and his doctor in there." Andrei tried to make you feel better, feel less angry but it didn't help. No one liked sitting in the hospital waiting room waiting for their child to get out of the x-ray room. 

"I knew I shouldn't of had a kid with a hockey player." You grumbled making him groan. He knew that was a joke and that your grumbling was second nature, but he couldn't help but feel super guilty.

"Mr. and Mrs. Svechnikov?" The doctor called out to the both of you as you rushed ready to hear whatever news it was. 

"Well, the x-rays came back clean. Nothing is broken. He just sprained it pretty badly, but other than that he is okay. We put a sling on him and we recommend to leave it on for a few days. After that, you can take him out of it. If it still feels a bit sore you can easily put him back in the sling. We also will be sending you home with some pain medicine if it gets hard to sleep at night."

"Thank you very much Dr. Johnson." 

"My pleasure. I'll have the nurse get the discharge papers ready. He's back in the room waiting for you both. Have a good day." The doctor bid a farewell as you felt a sigh leaving Andrei. Of course for the fact that his son was perfectly fine (he knew that already) but for the fact that his wife wasn't going to kill him.

"You too doctor."

"See, our baby boy is perfectly fine." He smiled down at his wife whose glare didn't drop for a second. 

"You're still sleeping on the couch. Not even the spare bedroom."

"Are you serious?"

[that-spider-fan-over-there]

BNHA 430: This wasn’t very “My Hero Academia” of you I’ll be honest—

Okay, where do I begin? Uh. So the story reached its conclusion. Congratulations, and all the best to Horikoshi-san for telling the story he wanted to tell for ten years, loved the characters, the little world he created after the cancellation of his previous works, I will cherish it for the rest of my life.

... but in my opinion: the last seven chapters were so bad- I don't think I can see this ending as anything other than a contradiction of what we were shown. Like, I thought we'd get a twist, everyone would be fine, something would change. I'm wearing the clown shoes already.

So, I'm just gonna treat this as a normal chapter, and not a final one, because I'll be here for days if I open this can of worms, which, I will not lie, is very bad (I'll open it at some point, not now.) I'm posting this on the.. 6th? Because apparently there's an announcement in the 5th and I don't wanna spoil the fun.

So, uh, under the read more are my thoughts on the ending, be warned I'm very, very negative about it.

*sigh* Oh boi, how killing the League made this go from an "underwhelming" to a "tone-deaf" chapter- I mean. Jesus fuck, leaving things open-ended don't erase the fact they can't make a single appearence to prove me wrong. And if they were alive, the last five chapters (and canonically eight years!) were a waste of emotions and keeping them hidden was a stupidly cruel move.

Funny, the narration is "people aren't equal but it's because of these differences that people find common ground to get along"- THE VILLAINS WERE KILLED OFF FOR BEING DIFFERENT BRO WHAT DO YOU MEAN- "if lending a hand and caring is being a hero then we all became the greatest heroes". Izuku, whatever you're drinking, I'm taking it and drinking it all by myself. You may have cared (which I can't even say for certain anymore). But Tenko died. On accident. Because you gave him OFA.

I liked the "Midoriya-Sensei" part... For 5 seconds. It's fitting, he loves learning stuff, he's good with kids, good for him. Until you say "it's only because his embers are gone". Then why use it as a tease for seven chapters only to just get rid of them at the end? Is running to Ochako really the last we get to see him use it? Not even as a part-time hero? (not that it matters at the end-)

Ragdoll works with the WWP, Tsukuachi was head strategist in the final battle, Hawks is the (H)PSC president, Aizawa is Aizawa. Why wasn't Izuku hired at an agency? Intelligence was a huge part of his character, yet the moment he was fully Quirkless again, he had to leave? Men truly aren't created equal...

"Cursed power", "blessing", "special" — the only thing special about OFA was being haunted by a guy whose brother was insane enough to hunt it down for generations. A Quirk's a Quirk; having multiple people/powers in one body isn’t special, Tokoyami and Shoto exist. Izuku was supposed to make it special using it on his terms. But I guess "meant to save, not kill" was a lie, as eight out of ten people who had it died. Nine out of eleven, counting BNHA: HR. Tenko died because his body couldn't handle the Quirk, but I guess Izuku isn't gonna think about any of it? Katsuki was right, I guess. OFA is a curse.

Spinner wrote a book (not a comic, guess he took offense to Izuku. Fair, actually). Mr. Compress got a panel, but no real mention of the LoV? They broke the status quo for months (in-universe), and after all of that, nothing changes? Did Spinner know about Tenko, how he became Tomura? And the people who will read it and pull an MLA? TomurAFO had followers, now he's a martyr a lá Re-Destro. I’m hoping Spinner didn’t commit suicide like Destro did.

Ochako’s expanding Quirk Counseling. Reform’s implied (it only said expansion), but Himiko still became what Curious wanted her to be: A cautionary tale. And I’m still asking how Ochako knows Himiko what went through, she only told Ochako she was hated because of her Quirk and how she loves. I wanna think she’s reforming it, but nothing else changed, why should I think she’s the exception? She might literally just think Himiko didn't get help, that's a cruel irony.

(At least she's seen as a hero on her rights… even if it took 429 chapters, messy writing with a shoved crush plot, her face looking like rubber seriously her face looks wrong to me for some reason and I don't know why, and still being a girlfailure recognized as a "caretaker", not a badass hero).

Shoji's travelling through Japan to solve discrimination and got a prize for it. No foundations or mentions of Spinner being the main reason he did it, just "standing atop those who rose up eight years ago", just solving it peacefully, you sure are, buddy. Like, I'm sure you are being successful but how exactly are you solving this? I mean, you "solved" the hospital fight by fighting Spinner with Koda and telling people to not defend themselves from others wanting to beat them up- Oh wait, time constraints, we can't elaborate how. I'm rolling my eyes.

Shirakumo showed the noumu state could've been reversed, yet Katsuki, who never killed someone aside from AFO (and that guy was gonna die anyway), fatally exploded him. I hoped it was a misunderstood panel but no. He died because he wanted to save Tenko. Even fucking Gran Torino was alive by the end of this. Why.

I think Shoto is the only main character I’m not really having a problem with (Ochako's ending required Himiko for it to feel somewhat complete. Sorry, Ochako). I’m weirded out that they mentioned the billboard using the guy whose life was ruined by it as an example, but other than that, he’s doing fine. Wish we saw him talking to his siblings though. But alas. No mention of Fuyumi and Natsuo. And Rei's with Endeavor. Fuck I take it back Todofam still deserved better.

Inko got so sidelined when Mitsuki and Masaru were in 424 for half a chapter, by the way. Just one panel for her, the protagonist's mother.

Schedules not aligning is one thing (I get it, my friends and I can't align ours anymore), but Class A not opening an agency together? They survived the same two wars. And you're telling me they wouldn't say "WE'RE WORKING TOGETHER AND TAKING MIDORIYA WITH US"? Also, where’s the "world where heroes have time to spare" when they look so busy? Were they understaffed or working as celebrities? (if someone says it was for the suit I will point out to the three nepo babies of Class A + Momo's Quirk, Katsuki’s a dumbass if he forgot that detail, I don't care if it's a surprise for Izuku).

We wasted pages on a kid that can throw plates from his hair. To tell him he can be a hero. Coming from the guy who had to stop working as a hero when he lost OFA. I'm not taking this parallel seriously.

I wish Izuku wasn't in "everything’s fine" mode until the end. We're really gonna leave him at "implied" mode, not confirm if his mental state's fine? Being open and emotional was an appealing part of him and now we just get “Yeah that’s just how it is”.

This one's petty and irrational, I know, but since I'm letting some of the steam out: I hate Izuku's new "protagonist that went through it" design; those face scars are my main complaint (the constant "FAILURE OF AN MC" reminder makes my eye twitch and I wish that was a joke, but also so many characters in BNHA got face scars, it doesn't even stand out), but "perfect necktie", normal, formal salaryman attire, his red sneakers are gone?! Where's the character highlights? The things that make Izuku stand out?

But hey: He gets to be a hero again! Not with skills, heart, intelligence, strength, in spite of Quirklessness. No, he has an Iron Man suit! That Class A paid billions for. The government should be paying the child soldiers- sorry, Class A and B (and Shiketsu and Ketsubutsu) instead, but all they get is a pat on the back. If the suit breaks down, hurts or kills him while in it? I'll laugh (Hatsume and Melissa worked on it? Oh it's gonna happen, I'm hoping). And Toshinori, what happened to him, did he hit his head when he landed on that building!?

Acts 1&2: Smiles cover his fear and reassure people, believed saving is about saving body and soul, wanted to help Tenko, only didn't because Gran Torino said it wasn't a good idea. Disliked people were being heroes for fame and not because it's the right thing to do, only used support items as reinforcement and a precaution, never as a full solution, even Iron Might was so he’d have a chance to fight, not a solution.

Act 3: If Tenko died smiling, it wasn't resignation, he was saved, even though he died. Didn't care AFO killed the Shimura - his mentor's - bloodline. Is fine with the billboards existing, even though it caused things like the Todoroki plotline. Now he's giving Izuku a suit, when the last time he did it himself, it didn't save him and his spine was almost snapped? Dude, what?

Also full disclosure, I thought he was paralyzed from almost getting split by the spine, but I guess he just had a bad back. Let's not discuss the trauma of almost being snapped in half and feeling your bones break so bad you set a record of how many screws were used, I guess.

... I. Hate BKDK's conclusion. Like, I apologize for this one being longer than the rest but I'm usually gravitating towards this dynamic and. It's actually so laughable how much I hate it. If the LoV had another outcome (or some deserved vindication at the very least if you're still gonna fuck them up with sudden deaths), I'd probably be overjoyed as a shipper w/o worrying too much. But if the LoV story ends in utter shit, then Izuku and Katsuki fail, and this mess is why I hate it:

Thematically, Tenko wasn't rescued, it wasn't a perfect victory because AFO still got away with what he did to him. Save to win, win to save were just nice words. "The End of an Era and The Beginning"? Nothing changed in the world they live in, and they don't stand out among other heroes (these are AM’s successors. And they aren't even important. How.) What "new era" is this, really?

Their resolutions, relationship rebuild? Offscreen, but Katsuki was the one with the Iron Man suit idea for Izuku and apparently that compensates for it. Because he’s the one who can solve all of Izuku’s problems now, not motivate him to be better anymore. It wasn’t even Izuku’s idea, it was Class A, and sure it’s a nicely condescending gesture. We’ve seen Toshinori barely come out alive even with one. That's a support item for a reckless little shit who will get himself killed.

Izuku barely batted an eye to any of the things he went through - losing his arms and/or OFA? Seeing Spinner's breakdown? Lady Nagant!? Katsuki or Tenko dying because of Izuku and OFA!? SOME INTROSPECTION?! IT’S BEEN OVER 100 CHAPTERS SINCE YOU’VE BEEN THE EMOTIONAL MC—

Katsuki's insecurities were pointless by the way! Izuku's empathy and heart never mattered, a Quirk was more important to be a hero in the end. YOU BULLIED HIM FOR NOTHING BUDDY- like. Shouldn't have done it at all, but now his own character development means nothing because his previous beliefs were the right ones. Changing for the better was pointless. Like Twice's death. Or Katsuki’s own death, since “Control Your Heart” meant nothing as well.

Izuku still remembers Tenko, but has he done anything about it? No one wants to remember him, Himiko or Touya. Spinner's book won't be taken seriously except for Tenko's followers, Mr. Compress was sidelined, Twice's death was pointless. They didn't change society, they've returned to the status quo. Pointless as Izuku losing his arms.

That fucking suit- Wow, he really couldn't be a Quirkless hero, the casual rivalry was just erased for an easy way out of their consequences, there's no catching up because Katsuki paid for Izuku a way to be a hero. Izuku doesn't get there because he still believes Quirks make a hero. This isn't heartwarming or romantic or whatever, Katsuki just proved he also didn't believe Izuku in the end, that he had to pay a way for him to be a hero.

And it ends with Izuku seeing Tenko's... Ghost? Hallucination? Vestige? I guess we’ll never know, because Izuku’s following his dreams again! Let's ignore he's doing this during class hours and he definitely should be in UA but who cares, he probably quit, we'll never know. Aside for lame BKDK/DKBK smut fics plots (tell me I'm lying, I dare you), being a teacher was clearly a inferior choice for him and he can't do both ignore Aizawa and Present Mic look at him being the world's greatest hero!

It just took 1 year of trauma, scars, following on his mentor's mistakes, losing the thing that "actually" made him be a hero, having the first (Katsuki) and the last (Tenko) people he tried to save dying because of his existence (one literally by his hands), proving anyone can be one! By ignoring the guilt of those you failed, give hands and sparing your thoughts, having superpowers and/or connections who'll give you a suit! And if they still "act out"? Then they deserved death no matter the valid points they've had and you gotta play jury judge executioner. Unless they decide to be quiet like a good entitled citizen.

Fuck this shit I swear- You could’ve had a BKDK proposal with a double spread handhold, and I'd still think Izuku's ending isn't earned. His "happy ending"— actually, hot take: BKDK crumbs are the fandom's "consolation prize" (ugh) for this ending. I feel cheated out my OTP (like. I'm shipping the version of them in my head, not the canon one 412-onwards because it's only gotten worse from there-), and for what? The League died, and it's the heroes' fault. I've held back because I genuinely wanted to believe the story was better than this, that the League would be helped, but fuck it, I've been asking this for seven chapters and two months: Why would I want Midoriya Izuku, of all people, to have a happy ending after this shit?

A story about hope bent itself over to give the protagonist an unearned happy ending, when it said it was for every character who wants to connect to that hope, who wants to give that hope. Izuku went from "wanting to be a beacon of hope and save people" to "talk about beacons of hope, but in the end, others are doing this better than you. You had none of the willpower to be one." He's not hope or unity. Act 3!Izuku is just a plot device, I feel nothing for his ending other than irritation, and I hate it because he was my favourite character. Lol, a very useless one in the end.

So. Yeah, those are my thoughts about the ending. I think. I don't know if these are all of them, hell, I might adding more to this post even months after. I feel horrible about hating it, but I've sat on this chapter for days and right now, not a lot can make me like it, especially with the timeskip, which made this "open ending" a rushed and incomplete mess. If you disagree with me, honestly, that is very fair. I'm glad for you if you liked the ending. I'm just disappointed, and wanted to share my opinions. (and I do have more stuff to say about it, and Act 3 as a whole, but I think I've been negative enough and I don't have the energy to talk about the entire arc at once).

But for the weeks I spent hoping this wouldn't slap a classic shonen ending in this catasthrophic mess and for making me feel like a dumbass after what we got in the end: Everything after 410 that isn't 421 and 422 is non-existent to me, this epilogue was a freaking waste.

Thank you for reading.

(EDIT.: Fixed some spelling mistakes and added a few more things because I can keep going on how bad this ending is. Also to just make one thing clear because of ship discourse: I am a BKDK shipper. But only until like. 405? 412 if I'm generous. Anything after that? Yeah, no, keep that shit away from me lol.)

EDIT 2: Got reminded this post existed and I've already talked about it, but to the Spider from the past, here's the update:

Society never changed at all and lobotomized MC chose being a teacher for future unemployment. Tomura's last words were used for romance bait with local monthly babysitting girlfailure haunted by Himiko. *opens up a wine bottle* But Shoto's doing fine, Touya wasn't done even more dirty and "Katsuki crash the car" memes are funny.

I still hate Izuku-Sensei. Busted Toshinori-wannabe, can't blame Toshi himself for not wanting to see an impostor walking like that's his son for too long.

[chickensarentcheap]

Trying to get my muse going

@tragiclyhip @watermeezer @youflickedtooharddamnit @secretaryunpaid @bardic-tales

@kmc1989 @karimac @ninjasawakenedmystar @asirensrage @residentdormouse

@alisbackalleybbq

“I have something to tell you.”

“I don’t think I like the sound of that.”

“It’s nothing bad. At least not to me. You might see it a bit differently. When you hear what it is. But I just figured that since we’re doing this whole totally honest, completely open thing, there was no reason to wait. That we’re in a good enough place to talk about it.”

“If it has anything to do with when you left and started hiding out…”

“It’s nothing to do with that. Well, maybe it does. I don’t know. I suppose it’s kind of related. Very loosely, mind you. I just think this is the time to tell you about it. I’m finally awake and feeling a lot better, and we’ve had some really good talks tonight, and I guess I want to keep the ball rolling and just..”

“Esme, you’re rambling.”

“I don’t even know where to start. HOW to start.”

“Just spit it out. Say what you want to say. What you NEED to say.”

Sighing heavily, she briefly glances away, chewing nervously on her bottom lip. “I was the one who asked Alcott to get you out of prison.”

“What do you mean you were the one who…?”

“I had spies, okay. Informants. Keeping me up to date on you. Alcott, Nik, Yaz. You know, people I could trust; to do the job for me and keep quiet about it. I didn’t want you to know that I was keeping an eye on you; I know how much you hate being babied or coddled or worried and I was afraid you found out I was sticking my nose where it didn’t belong…”

“I would have just been happy to know you were okay. To know you even still gave a shit about me. I wouldn’t even have questioned it; you spying on me.”

“I always gave a shit about you. It was never about NOT giving a shit. I still worried about you. I still LOVED you. None of that ever stopped. Not even for a second.”

“I can’t believe I didn’t know about any of this. You and Alcott being buddies.”

“You know what it’s like in the circle. Everyone’s connected in some way.”

“And you asked him not to tell me. That he knew you.”

“There was no reason for you to know. It didn’t really have any bearing on anything. And it kept Millie and I under the radar; the fewer people who knew where we were and who were connected to, the better.”

“So he just called you and told you I was in prison?”

“Not exactly. Well, I mean, he DID. He was the one who let me know. But before that, he’d shown up in New York. Totally unexpected. And he told me all about the job in Georgia; how it involved your sister-in-law and her kids, and that it was Mia that hired you.”

“And…?”

“And it didn’t sit right. The whole thing just felt ‘off’ to me. I found it really…troublesome…that she sought you out like that. I mean, didn’t seem kind of weird to you? That after years of even knowing she was, she would just show up out of the blue? For something like THAT?”

“It was a little…odd.”

“I didn’t like it. At all. The fact she went looking for you. The fact that she would probably use your son’s death against you; use all that guilt and regret and grief to get you to do what she wanted. You can see why, right? Why I’d think that? Why I’d immediately go in that direction?”

“I’m not saying you were wrong for thinking it.”

“I knew once she did that, you’d go along with it. You’d take the job; not even caring about how risky it was or how dangerous the Nagazi were. So naturally, that made me even more nervous. Knowing you were going into something like that.”

“And Alcott kept you up to date? On what was happening?”

“I asked him to let me know how things went. Like I said, I was worried about you. And I knew all about Davit and Zurab and what they and their people were capable of. It scared me, alright? I didn’t want anything to happen to you. I loved you. You were the father of my daughter. And the thought of her losing you before ever even having you…”

“This is just…” He laughs incredulously and shakes his head. “Wow.”

“I knew exactly when the job started. Day, time. Right down to the very second. And Alcott was supposed to let me know how things went; get a hold of me as soon as you were free and clear from the prison and on your way to Vienna. So I could rest a little easier, you know? Only I didn’t hear from him for a few days. Which got me totally freaked out. I left messages, I sent texts. Nothing. Just silence.”

“And then…”

“And then I put more feelers out. I reached out to other colleagues. People I’d worked with in Europe. Specifically in and around Austria. I knew if anyone could find out if you made it there safe and sound, it would be then. And then they called back and told me that you were alive, but they couldn’t tell me exactly where you were. That I was ‘need to know information’ and I didn’t need to know.”

“So Alcott…”

“He FINALLY got a hold of me. A week later. And he told me what happened in Vienna. How you killed Zurab but ended up getting busted by the cops and thrown in jail. You were going to be there a really long time, and I didn’t want that to happen. You didn’t deserve to be there. All the bad things the Nagazi did? All the horrible shit they inflicted on people? You should have been given a key to the city and a parade in your honour. Even had a day named after you.”

“Whether or not I did the right thing, what we do IS illegal.”

“I didn’t want you rotting away in there. Not for helping people. For getting that kind of trash off the street. And there were selfish reasons, too. For why I wanted you out of there. I already knew I was going to bring Millie to you. It had always been my plan; to take her to her dad before she turned six. And considering you were facing a life sentence, I couldn’t just sit back and do nothing. I wanted Millie to meet you. Have a relationship with you. And that couldn’t happen if you were locked up.”

“You’ve been really busy the last five years, haven’t you.”

[spacesapphi]

"Moving Forward, Spiraling Downward Chapter 8- Reset, Restart, Recover"

Sorry for making you guys wait so long for this! It's been a wild time between my jobs and life in general. This is a more mild chapter compared to the last two we've gotten, but I think we needed something small and nice to establish a new setting and characters! As always, thank you guys so much for your support :)

CWs include brief talks of death

Summary: The first day back in Pelican Town is eventful for sure. All Shane wants to do is curl up in bed and rot, but there's so much to do, people to meet, connections to make. After setting up a surprise for Jas, getting a new job, and meeting a future friend, Shane finds he has his own surprise waiting, one that cements the fact that he's truly home.

AO3 Version Here

Tumblr version below the cut!

If Shane had expected any rest or relaxation the next day, he would’ve been sorely mistaken. All he wanted to do was sleep, rid himself of his exhaustion and recoup from the second worst day of his life, but that wouldn’t come to be. There was so much to do, so much to get in order now that he was back in town. No matter how terribly he was doing, the world kept turning, and he needed to move with it. 

The morning had gone by as such a blur, so much happening all at once that he could hardly even remember the details. It was only vague flashes now. Waking up, taking care of the animals, seeing Jas get so excited to be back, eating breakfast, and sending her off for her first day of classes with Penny. He felt so disconnected from reality, like he was having some sort of out-of-body experience the entire morning. He needed a moment, at least a moment, to sit and process it all. So there he sat atop a bale in Marnie’s coop, curled against the corner of the building with a chick in his palms, staring blankly at his hands.

Being in the coop always helped him feel better as a kid. One could often find him holed away in its walls on a bad day, much preferring the company of chickens to people. But it did little to ease him now. Everything was just so heavy on his shoulders, feeling like they would shatter from the pressure. Wasn’t everything supposed to be okay now? Wasn’t he supposed to be happy, thriving even? Why couldn’t he do it? Life would be better now, his future would be better now. So why couldn’t he be happy? Everyone else made it look so easy to get back up on their feet after hitting rock bottom. It made him feel like there was something wrong with him, like he was born with a missing piece he so desperately needed.

“Figured I’d find you in here.”

He could hear Marnie's soft footsteps entering the coop, the touch of her hand on his shoulder, “How are you holding up? You didn’t look so good at breakfast.” 

Shane just shook his head, closing his eyes tight, “Miserable. I should be happy now, right? Everythin’ is okay now, it’s safe. But I’m just-” he cut himself off, exhaling in a frustrated, grumbly tone.

“These things take time, you know that,” Marnie assured, taking a seat next to him on the bale, “You can’t expect yourself to recover overnight, especially with all you told me…”

“But I need to.” he sighed, exasperated and weary, “For Jas especially… I don’t know what’s wrong with me… Everythin's okay now but I still feel awful,”

“I wish you listened to me from the beginning,” Marnie sighed, “You should’ve come home years ago, Shane…”

Shane didn’t respond, averting his eyes from her. He was just so tired, he didn’t have the energy to continue rehashing this debate that always went nowhere. He wished he could forget it all, or that he’d wake up any minute and the past few years would’ve been some fucked up nightmare. But this was reality, as depressing as it was. All he wanted to do was curl up under the covers and rot away. But Marnie wasn’t going to let him. She knew from experience that all it did was make things worse. She needed to break him out of this, one way or another.

“You know… why don’t we set up a room for Jas? It can be a little surprise when she gets back!” she mused, “I think she’d like that,”

“She’d love it.” Shane whispered. 

“Besides, it’ll get your mind off things for a bit, right?” Marnie asked, “I think you could use a distraction,”

“... I guess. Sure.”

Marnie had to all but drag him up off the bale, giving him a moment to set down the chick before they got going. She took a careful look at him, frowning at the sight. He looked so sullen, a husk of himself, even in one of his favorite places on the ranch. She hated seeing him like this, and wished it could be all better now, just as he did. But healing took time, and she knew that well. Today wouldn’t fix anything, but it could be that first step forward. She was going to make sure of it. She patted him on the shoulder, speaking softly, “Come on, now,”

As the two began to walk to the main house, Marnie caught a glimpse of the chick trying to follow them out, staying close next to Shane’s feet the entire time they walked. It refused to leave his side, looking up at him almost in a state of wonder. A little laugh escaped Marnie, “I think you made a good impression on little Charlie already!”

“Charlie?” 

“Cute, isn’t it?” Marnie smiled.

 “A little silly for a chicken, but yeah…” he smiled a bit, “That’s cute,”

Shane looked down, watching as Charlie circled around him, little excited peeps ringing out through the coop. He couldn’t help but smile as he watched the little chick run around, so happy and carefree. What a wonderful thing it must be to be one, to have no worries, no fears. 

Marnie was already well into the house, the door shut behind her to avoid risking any of the chickens running inside. They could be such little escape artists, the troublemakers they were. It seemed Charlie was just the same, intent on following her newfound friend inside. Shane stooped down for just a minute, whispering softly, “I’ll come back later, okay? I’ll bring sweet corn too. Promise,” That seemed to get the little one to calm down, finally sitting still in one spot and watching patiently as he walked through the door, finding his way over to Marnie.

“I couldn’t have both of you just staying in the guest room, it wouldn’t be right,” Marnie stated, opening the door to the space connected to the living room, “What kind of aunt would I be if I treated you just as a guest?”

Shane peeked his head in, immediately inhaling a cloud of dust that swirled inside and hacking up a lung. The room had once been a beautiful bedroom, bright paint on the walls and fancy decorations filling its space. But over the decades it had slowly been transformed to be used as storage, full of hay bales, barrels, lumber, and all sorts of tools. The walls were dull and dust-coated now, rendering it unrecognizable from its original state.

Marnie stepped in, putting her hands on her hips as she looked around the room, making mental notes of everything they could do to spruce it up, “It’ll take some work, but we can get it done before she’s back!”

“Where are we gonna put all this though?” Shane questioned, motioning to the piles and piles of stock. Marnie shrugged, “Living room, I suppose… Not many other spots, are there?”

“You’re gonna put hay by the fireplace? Is that safe?” Shane questioned, looking just a bit uneasy, “And what about the furniture?”

“Oh, we’ll figure it out later,” Marnie stooped down to grab a bale, hoisting it high as she could with a grunt, “Now are you going to help, or just stand there and ask questions?”

Shane rushed over, grabbing the heavy bale from her arms and pulling it through the door himself, feeling his arms strain at the weight, “You’re going to hurt yourself, aendi, let me do it,” he scolded. Marnie just rolled her eyes, giving him a wry smile as she snatched up another bale, “Oh please, I can handle myself. I’m old, not helpless.”

The two spent hours lugging everything out, dragging furniture into Jas’ new room, and cleaning the place thoroughly. It seemed like everytime they thought they were done, a new layer of dust would come to coat the walls again, erasing their progress. It was a struggle, but eventually the two of them had every surface bright and shining, the pink paint on the walls finally visible once more. The room was barebones now to be sure, filled with merely the most basic furniture, but it was a perfect template to build a space Jas would lose her mind over.

But with all that heavy lifting, Shane was already feeling incredibly spent. He was sitting on the floor, leaning his back against a barrel as he caught his breath. Oh, he hated this. He remembered back to his varsity days, how he could go through hours of grueling training and still have the energy for a fun night out on the town. What happened to him? He felt like such a weak old man now, something he shouldn’t be feeling at merely 30, especially when his aunt was still flitting about with a spring in her step. She noticed him sprawled out, a concerned look growing on her face as she stooped to his level, “Are you okay, schatz? You don’t look so good…”

He nodded quickly, waving it off, “Just tired… dunno what my problem is..”

“You’ve had a difficult few days, it’s understandable,” Marnie assured, “But once you’re ready, I could use your help in the attic. I have something up there that I think Jas would love.”

Shane furrowed his brow, forcing himself up, “Like what?”

He followed Marnie upstairs, finding the attic to somehow be impossibly dustier than the storage room, a thick cloud of it billowing in the air as Marnie opened the trap door. She waved it away from her face, stepping cautiously over the floorboards to a large tarped item in the corner. Removing it in one quick flick, she revealed a fancy old dollhouse sporting a bright purple roof. Tiny porcelain dolls sat atop the wooden furniture, posed as if they were stuck in time since they’d last been played with.

“I’ve kept just about everything of our family’s.” Marnie mused, “This was me and your mother’s, from when we were Jas’ age! It’s old, I know, but she’d like it right?”

“Yeah!.. But.. ” Shane took a moment to look around the room, seeing bins and boxes stacked all the way to the roof, “Why’s there so much up here? It’s… a lot.” Marnie was right, just about every item this family had owned had to be up here in the attic. It was a miracle the ceiling hadn’t caved through already, honestly. 

Marnie just shrugged, “You know I’m sentimental… It’s hard to get rid of memories when it’s all you have left,” 

Shane nodded in response, knowing all too well what that felt like. There was a silence between them for a moment, solemn and tense, before Marnie clasped her hands together, “Well… no use in dwelling on it right now. Let’s get this to her room,”

The two of them hauled the antique down the stairs and began filing in Jas’ belongings, watching as the barebones room slowly transformed into one any child would be jealous of. A closet full of adorable clothes, a canopy over the bed, shelves full of toys and dolls, and the grand dollhouse sitting against the back wall.

It was time for just the finishing touches now, Shane carefully arranging Jas’ plushes at the foot of the bed, trying to remember the way she liked to keep them organized. She was insistent that certain ones needed to be sat together or else they’d get sad, and he could only hope he remembered the right arrangements. 

Eventually it was ready, set up perfectly, and just in time! Shane felt a faint smile creep up on his face, one sourced from a sense of pride and accomplishment. After so long, Jas finally had a space just for her. Hell, the room was almost as big as the old apartment on its own. She deserved it though, truly. After all she’d gone through, all she put up with, she deserved to have something nice like this. 

“Do you think she’ll like how it looks?” Marnie questioned, looking nervously around the room, “I haven’t seen her in so long, I’m not sure what she’d like…”

“If it’s got anythin’ cute and fluffy, Jas loves it,” Shane assured, giving her a smile, “She’ll be so happy when she sees this… Thank you, for everything.”

Marnie wrapped an arm around his shoulder, holding him close, “Oh don’t you mention it… I’m just glad I could finally do this! You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do this.”

“Yeah…” Shane trailed off. He looked up to the clock, seeing just how much time had passed since they started. It was well into the afternoon, just about the time he’d normally be picking up Jas from her old school, “You think I should go get Jas yet?”

“You still have some time,” Marnie thought for a moment, “Oh, maybe you can stop at Joja first, speak to the manager about the stockboy job! You remember what I told you to say, right?”

“I’ve been working with you for a few years now and they can call to verify,” he repeated, “I remember,”

“Good! Best of luck to you, schatz,” Marnie quickly fixed his hair, looking him up and down to make sure he was presentable, and walked him to the door. She felt just a bit anxious doing so, watching him intently as he walked into town. Part of her wasn’t certain that he wouldn’t just run off again, that he wouldn’t grab Jas and leave to Yoba knows where, cutting off contact yet again. Deep down she knew it was a silly fear, that he was here to stay and that was final. They just spent the entire day setting up a living space for Jas, after all. 

But she couldn’t shake the feeling even still. None of this felt real, or permanent. All night she had been checking the guest room, almost obsessively so, to make sure he wouldn’t run off again. Everytime she twisted open that door knob she was afraid she’d walk into an empty room yet again, and part of her feared she wouldn’t watch him and Jas walk back through that door today. She refused to leave the doorway until she was certain he was well into town, her fears just mildly calmed.

Shane wished he had better clothes to wear for this. Marnie had always harped on the importance of dressing well for an interview, or for anything to do with a job. A first impression was everything, after all! But the nicest thing he had now was an ill-fitting sweater and some black jeans, a pair of scuffed sneakers as his only footwear. He looked a mess, he knew that, but it was the best he could do for now, at least until he had a little cash to his name. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he kept his head down as he walked through town. He desperately hoped no one would pay him much attention, that he would be able to reach the store with little interruption. He was already feeling irritable, he didn’t need anything else to make it worse. 

As he trudged on, he passed the little blue house by the river, the one belonging to that sweet old couple in town who’d been living there as far back as he could remember. There was some tall young man he didn’t recognize standing outside, fumbling around with a gridball as he leaned against the wall, trying his best to look cool. He donned a bright green and yellow varsity jacket, one he recognized well as the one belonging to the local highschool’s team. After all, he had one just like it tucked away somewhere in storage. 

It was a good thing Shane didn’t recognize him. If they didn’t know each other, the less likely it was for him to be stopped, to be bothered. Unluckily, the man did recognize him. He couldn’t exactly place it just yet, but he just felt it, he knew Shane from somewhere. He racked his brain, watching as Shane lumbered further and further away, until it finally clicked. 

“Are you Shane Yoder?!”

Dammit.

Shane stopped in his tracks, looking back towards the young man with utter confusion, “Do I know you?”

“No, but I know you!” the young man was beaming, looking absolutely starstruck, “Man, I heard all about how you were on the field in highschool! The first guy from the valley to get a full-ride gridball scholarship for ZCU too, you were awesome!”

“I… I have to-”

“I just wanted to say I’m a big fan, huge fan actually! I really looked up to you!” he held out his hand expecting a handshake, a huge grin on his face, “I’m Alex, by the way! Alex Mullner. I’m gonna go pro too!”

Shane pursed his lips, looking very disconcerted. On one hand, he didn’t want to be an asshole to this kid, especially after all the praise that had been showered on him. On the other, he really didn’t want to be thinking about his gridball era right now. He tried his best to be kind, awkwardly shaking his hand and turning back towards the river. Jojamart was just over the bridge, he was so close. 

“Man, I watched all of the ZCU Hawks games in middle school, you guys were amazing,” Alex mused, “You and that team captain, just…. Wow… I can’t believe you’re back here, thought you both would go pro! Do you still talk to him?”

“… No.”

“How come?”

“I don’t think that’s your business, is it?” Shane snapped, shooting him a glare. Alex looked shocked, hurt even, stepping back cautiously, “Oh… sorry, I- sorry,” he sheepishly walked backwards, holding up his hands defensively and entering his house without another word. Shane was left on his lonesome in the yard, instantly feeling sorry for himself. 

“Yoba, I’m a fucking asshole,” he thought to himself, once again lumbering towards Jojamart. He had to break that habit, getting defensive over the littlest things, especially when someone didn’t even intend to upset him. He could be so quick to anger, another vice of his that he was well aware of. It wasn’t that kid’s fault, Shane knew. How the hell was Alex supposed to know Jay was dead? He just asked a simple question, a question aimed towards someone he looked up to. 

Huh. The thought was funny to him, honestly. The thought that someone might’ve looked up to him or want to be like him was… unbelievable to say the least. He didn’t think he was anyone special, anyone worth idolizing. Not anymore, at least. That version of himself died years ago, leaving whatever sorry excuse for a man he was now to pick up the pieces.

He finally made it into the store, hearing the little droning chime as soon as the sliding doors opened. Jojamart looked so… bleak inside. It was colored in that sterile off white and blue, smelling strongly of chemical cleaner, bright industrial lights on the ceiling. It looked almost otherworldly, in the worst way possible. The store was seemingly empty, only some exhausted red-headed girl at the registers and some overly chipper older man at the customer service counter. He was dressed in a full suit, round glasses perched on his nose, a large nametag reading “Morris” on his jacket. His eyes lit up the moment he saw Shane, waving him over wildly. 

“Good evening! Did you come in to get a Jojamart membership? Only 5,000g, no trouble at all!”

“I… no, sorry,” Shane apologized. Morris frowned, looking particularly frustrated, “I see… You know, Mayor Lewis offered to hand over that old community building to us if we got another sign-up, so if you ever change your mind…” he trailed off. 

“Nevermind, what can I help you with, if you’re not here for a membership?” Morris asked, raising a brow, “We have anything you could need!”

“I was actually wonderin’ if that stocking position is still open?” Shane asked. He couldn’t see it, but the girl at the counter made a face of such relief, looking like she was praying a thank you to Yoba. Morris grinned wide, “Well yes, of course!”

“I have a reference if you nee-”

“You’re hired!”

Shane blinked, completely not expecting that response. This felt too easy, like it was a trap. He didn’t even get to finish his sentence, he didn’t even get to tell Morris his name. Morris could sense his unease and distrust, immediately waving it off. 

“No one in this bumpkin town likes to work, it seems,” he sneered, his face bitter and resentful, “A lazy lot, they all are. I’ve only been able to get Claire over there and that boy Samson…Trust me when I say you’ve made me very relieved.”

Morris took one good look at Shane, peering up and down before ducking under the counter, “I’ll put in an express order for your uniform, have it ready by Monday. You can have this for now.”

He slid over a folded blue hoodie, giving Shane a well-practiced customer service smile, “Welcome to the Joja family!”

Eugh, that made Shane wince inside. He knew well that any company that referred to themself as a “family” was instantly a red flag, and Joja wouldn’t be any different. He tried to be grateful even still. He had a job, one that would likely be yet another shitty dead end, but it was something. It wasn’t like he was in any spot to be picky now, anyways. He attempted to give Morris an appreciative smile, as fake as it was, trying to make a good first impression on his new boss. 

“I’ll be in Monday, thank you, really,”

“First thing in the morning, bright and early!” Morris chimed, “We’re happy to have you!”

Walking out of the store, Shane stared down at the jacket in his hands. The material was awfully cheap and rough, an itchy feeling beneath his fingertips. Oh well, it wasn't like he could complain about a free hoodie, especially when it was getting cold like this. He just shrugged and slipped it on, silently cursing as the sleeve ripped at the shoulder the moment he slipped his arm inside. Of course. Just his luck. 

He didn’t expect that to be so… easy, though. In the city getting a job was one of the biggest challenges he’d ever gone through. Employers loved to make people jump through hurdles and hoops for the simplest positions. He felt like he was getting pranked now, not believing his luck. Having something good come to him so easily was rare, after all.

He made his way down to the museum where Penny taught, happy to find it was mere yards away from work, a perfect walkable distance. Penny stood outside chatting with some man he didn’t recognize, Jas running around and playing with a red haired little boy, their laughs echoing through the air.

“Good,” he thought,”She’s already making friends,” 

He shoved his hands in his pockets and lumbered his way over, leaves crunching beneath his feet. Jas immediately saw him, pulling away from her new friend to run towards him, “Uncle Shane, Uncle Shane!”

She ran into his arms, laughing wildly as he lifted her up, tossing her just a bit in the air, “It was the best day ever!” she grinned, kicking her legs in the air, “Ms. Penny ‘n Sam are so cool, and I got a new friend!”

“Sounds like you’re all settled in then,” Shane smiled, “Is Sam your friend?”

“No, Vinny is!” Jas pointed back towards the small group, directly towards the man Penny had just been chatting with, “That’s Sam!”

He looked to where she had pointed, seeing the man she called Sam begin to approach. He had to be in his early 20’s, bright eyes, a smile on his face that could make anyone’s day. His hair was styled into a mullet, spiked and wild, piercings dotting his ears and face. He could appreciate the style, recognizing it as something he’d wear when he was that age.

Sam held out his hand, somehow managing to smile even wider than before, “Hey, nice to see a new guy in town! I’m Sam, and this lil guy-” he reached down to ruffle the boy's hair, getting a laugh out of him, “- is Vincent! Glad he’s finally got someone his age to be his friend here!”

Shane reluctantly held out his hand in return, briefly shaking Sam’s before he resigned back into himself. He didn’t understand how someone could be so… cheerful like that. Not even Emily had that air about her. Sam tilted his head just a bit to the side, catching a glimpse of the embroidered “J” on Shane’s hoodie. 

Sam motioned to the same “J” on his own hoodie, “Oh no way, you’re working at Joja now?! Me too! I’ll see you there Monday probably! We’re gonna be great pals, right?” Sam spoke a mile a minute, nearly tripping over his words, “We’ve been hopin’ that stock job would be taken soon, me and Claire hate doing it. Not that you will! It’s just a lot, y’know?”

Shane blinked, nodding slowly as his mind finally caught up to the barrage of words, “Yeah… yeah sure, buddy.”

“Sweet!” Sam replied. He looked down to Vincent, “We should get back home though, huh Vince? Almost dinner time.”

“Aww…” Vincent winced, “But mom’s makin’ lentil soup again!”

“C’mon, you gotta learn to like it sometime. Let’s go!” Sam turned back to smile at Shane and Jas, “It was really nice meeting you two, though! See you at work… uh…. Huh, I never asked your name,”

“It’s-”

“Wait, lemme guess…!” Sam held up a finger, making a face as if he was deep in thought for just a moment. He smiled again, a look of pure triumphant confidence on his face, “... Gary!”

“... What.” 

“... Was I close?”

“Not even a bit.” Shane sighed, “It’s Shane… just- you can call me Shane.”

“Huh..” Sam shrugged, “Dunno, you looked like one to me… Shane’s cool though, I like it! See you at work this week, man!”

He motioned for Vincent to follow, the pair walking off towards their home with a spring in their step. Shane could only shake his head. What an… odd guy. Maybe he was just jaded, maybe Sam was normal and he was just some miserable asshole, but damn Shane hadn’t been used to that kind of genuine positivity and joy from anyone other than Jas. Maybe working with him in the future could allow for that positivity to rub off on him, make him feel a little less hopeless than normal. 

He looked down to Jas, motioning himself towards the ranch, “We should get back too, huh? Aendi and I have a big surprise for you!”

“Really?!” Jas’ eyes lit up, “What is it?!”

“If I tell you it won’t be a surprise anymore! Now why don’t we head back?”

“Okay…” Jas agreed, feeling just a bit disappointed she didn’t know the surprise just yet, “Can I tell you about today?”

“Don’t see why not!” a small smirk found its way onto Shane’s face as Jas immediately burst into a grand story about her day. 

Penny had spent most of the day finding what curriculum would be best for her, and Jas found herself very proud and boastful of the fact that Penny thought she was advanced for her age, bumping her up to a second grade course level already. Shane couldn’t help but feel that same pride. Jas continued to ramble about the day, about how fun Vincent was to play with. The kids at her last school were nice too, but he just seemed to understand her more, and she liked that! She could tell they were going to be good friends. 

Seeing Jas look so vibrant and joyful as she rambled made Shane feel so happy… but also so guilty. She had what she needed here, but she was only getting that just now. His own selfishness had deprived her of the experience she could’ve had in Pelican Town, and he was worried it hindered her in some way. She was already so advanced, so smart emotionally and intellectually, but could she have been better? Penny had recognized how smart she was so fast, and was already giving her a near one on one teaching experience that was sure to help her excel. Could she have been some genius if he had just admitted he needed help all that time ago? He tried so hard to not focus on the past, as hard as that was. There was nothing he could do about it now, after all. All he could change was the course of his and Jas’ future, and hopefully change it for the best. 

“Are you and Sam friends yet?” Jas asked, tilting her head just a bit. Shane laughed shortly and shook his head, “Not yet, no. I just met him, Jassy,”

“Why? Me ‘n Vincent are friends already!” she exclaimed, “And we just met too!”

“It’s different when you’re older, it takes more work,” Shane explained, shrugging his shoulders, “You’ll get it when you’re a grown up,”

Jas folded her arms and huffed, “Well I’m never gonna be a grown up! Then I can have aaaall the friends I want!”

“You do that!” Shane laughed. 

The pair made it back to the ranch, Shane fumbling with the door’s handle as he stepped inside. Marnie awaited the two of them in the foyer, the warmest smile on her face as soon as she saw them. She looked beyond excited, surely for the surprise they had set out for Jas. 

“What’s the surprise?!” she asked, scrambling over to meet Marnie, the biggest smile on her face. She was doing all she could to not bounce off the walls, especially with all the suspense that had built on the way over!

“Say hi first, Jas. Don’t be rude,” Shane scolded. Jas nodded in understanding, her expression slumping just a bit, “Sorry..”

“Oh it’s alright, sweetheart,” Marnie mused, stooping to her level to look her in the eye, “Do you want to go see now?”

“Yeah!” Jas all but screeched, following Marnie over to the door. She could only imagine what was on the other side. Maybe new dolls, bunny jewel slippers, all the craft supplies she could ever need. The suspense was practically killing her. Turning the handle and looking inside, she couldn’t believe the sight before her. 

“This is mine…?” she asked in a whisper, looking around the room in awe. It was perfect, beyond her wildest imagination. There was a cautious excitement about her, waiting for confirmation before she got her hopes too far up. Shane gave her a nod, and that’s all she needed to lose it. She burst out into excited laughter, running around the room to look at everything. It was more than she could have ever hoped for, her own space, just for her! 

Shane and Marnie looked on in glee as she ran around the room, pointing out every little detail and decoration that she could see. Everything excited Jas, the entire idea of just having her own room made her happy beyond belief. She felt like she was dreaming, looking at all the new outfits, toys, and the beautiful decorations that had been set up just for her. 

She ran back to Shane and Marnie, hugging them both and squealing out plenty of “thank you’s” to the two of them before running back to play with the dollhouse that stood in the back. Shane gave Marnie a smile, looking very proud of himself, “Told you she’d like anything if it was cute,”

Marnie nodded in agreement, letting an amused sound escape her, “I have something for you too, you know,” she nudged Shane’s arm, motioning for him to follow her, “Why don’t we go look?”

“You didn’t have to do something for me too, aendi,” Shane mused, following her to the kitchen. Marnie turned to give him a less than impressed look, placing her hands on her hips with an exaggerated motion, “Do you ever know how to accept a gift? I know I taught you better than this,”

“I-”

“The proper response would be ‘thank you aendi, this is very thoughtful and you’re my favorite aunt in the world!’... Do you want to try again?” her tone verged on joking, but had a tint of seriousness behind it. 

“You’re my only aunt,” Shane reminded her, a sheepish smile on his face. 

Marnie rolled her eyes, “Oh don’t you get smart with me now…” she pointed to the door, her expression melting into one of joy, “Just through here, come on,”

Opening the door to the guest room, Shane was taken aback by the scene inside. What was once just furnished with only 2 beds and a nightstand had transformed into a full room, one built especially for him. A tv set up with his old gaming console sat in one corner, his bed in the other. A vintage lamp sat next to a plush red couch by the door, a yellow glow basking the room. Decorations were sparse, only a collectors gridball near the tv, some memorabilia and photos on the wall, and the box of memories he cherished so much. It was simple, but it made him feel so emotional, his chest tightening from just looking at the sight. He hadn’t had his own space in almost five years now, there wasn’t anything that was just his. And though it wasn’t much, especially compared to Jas’ room, it meant everything to him. There was something that was his, and his alone, and he couldn’t ask for more.

“I worked on this as soon as you left,” Marnie chimed in, voice filled with pride, “I know it’s not much, but I tried to make it as nice as I could for you,”

She pulled a box from behind her back, an even wider smile on her face, “Then there’s this, of course!” 

Shane nervously took it in his hands, opening the lid to find that special jersey sitting inside, still neatly folded just as he left it a year ago. He placed a hand atop it, resting along the varsity number on its front. The note he’d left on top of it was long gone, but Shane still believed the message he wrote. He shook his head, feeling his eyes grow glossy.

“I still don’t deserve this… any of this.”

“Of course you do…” Marnie sighed, “You have to forgive yourself already. I did so a long while ago... Let yourself have som-”

Her words were cut-off mid sentence as Shane pulled her into a tight hug. He couldn’t make out any words, far too choked up to even try. Marnie knew that well, and knew exactly what he wanted to say if he could speak. She returned the hug, holding him tight as she smiled, “You’re welcome,”

It would take Shane quite some time to forgive himself, to learn how to care about himself again. But it felt possible now, as awful as things were. This room, this gesture of kindness, it was proof that things would be okay. Not today, but someday. It would be a long time until things were, but this was just the start he needed.

[misstictart]

11!

[Simpsons OC ask game]

11 – Now tell us something your OC hates. I've already mentioned this briefly when talking about people she'd strive to avoid- but I cannot answer to this question without talking about what (or who, in this case) she hates the most: her father.

She can't say he didn't take care of her- as he was the only one who'd look after her while her mother was constantly absent - too busy being the Mafia's boss.

But. Awful circumstances and lots of mental abuse made it that she'd rather see him die (or kill him herself, in some exceptional instances) than spend another second in his company.

Ironically enough - he's right.

Claryce used to be the very chatty and energetic kid- and loved her father more than anything else. She used to think he was so cool- she'd listen to his military stories and think, wow! My father is one of those heroes who fight for America! Isn't this the coolest thing ever?

So she tried everything to get his attention.

Except Harold wanted a son more than anything else- someone to root for and to carry his family's legacy. Instead he was stuck with a loud and smart girl (even smarter than him at times, which was frustrating for him) so, really, at first she was just someone who'd become a housewife and make lunch/do chores when she'd be old enough.

...Until the day Claryce stole her mother's gun and tried to shoot with it to impress her father- while the familia got a scare (but didn't scold her because her mother loved her so much), Harold had a realization. He hadn't a son, but he could raise her LIKE a son.

And from this moment on, Claryce noticed her father was proud of her. For the wrong reasons, of course. So papa likes it when I use guns!! Sure!! I'll learn things a kid isn't supposed to learn so my dad smiles at me!

Consequently, Harold spent more time with his daughter, teaching her his ways. And of course, that one kid with who she spent time with once in a while was distracting her with his stupid books and plays so. Let's say he didn't think fondly of Bob. (Even more in the present timeline, as he'd be just a criminal like the others. When he thought his daughter couldn't be even more of a walking disaster, it turns out she's still hanging out with him as an adult! Truly wasted potential, he'd think).

But as you can expect, it didn't last long. As soon as her father had to move to Texas (and she went with him) - the trainings turned stricter, talking to her like a general would address a rookie soldier - the compliments turning more and more into "good, but this could be better" until his usual catchphrase "you're better than this".

Back to square one- stuck in a situation where she could never satisfy him, no matter how hard she tried (it was often blamed on the fact she was a woman). Until she asks herself a different question: do I want this. Am I happy with this situation. You'd be surprised to know it wasn't the case/s. The rest of the story is here.

To this day she still heavily resents him for what she (and her therapists) believe to be one (if not the main) reason she still struggles with her mental health. The day she discovered her father was back in Springfield, she spent days locked in her flat crying her eyes out. It's that bad.

Anyway yeah. She hates him lots, as you can imagine. :')

[stickers-on-a-laptop]

the promised thoughts about wblue

okay so i DID very much go and rewatch it lmaoooooo so first half is like thoughts i was thinking last night and then a liveblog-ish with different subs than the ones i watched yesterday. also i tried to write out the lyrics of the song but there some parts i definitely missed

when your entire infrastructure apparently rests on one (1) laptop working and your fucking president destroys it (instead of the alien who is causing brainwashing) for his little retainer

said retainer put a fucking shoe in your president's face the first time he met him, btw

said retainer was also like a TOUGH GUY once upon a time, with a real life of crime where he made counterfeit money, but he saw a man so beautiful (that was into a cashless society) and went "okay time to be silly :3"

also when you have a filter on your flashback that starts lifting only when you decide to follow this nerd who can build tech really well

also also when the sparks of a VERY IMPORTANT LAPTOP just have this cherry blossom feel instead of what was probably supposed to be bad-assery. was that just me? might have just been me. anyways.

BUT LIKE. YANMA DECIDED THAT THE ENTIRE COUNTRY. THE WHOLE THING. LESS IMPORTANT THAN SHIOKARA. i dunno if the other kings would make that decision. like i think himeno, rita, kaguragi, and jeramie would go for defeating hilbil. but also i'm not sure if the other retainers would use the lie detector like that. gira MIGHT destroy a country for like the orphanage kids tho.

i wanna see the history books of this like what is jeramie gonna WRITE for this. "so the bisexual yanma gast, against the uchu jester hilbil, chose his retainer shiokara over the country"

not that jeramie would know this but the fact the hacker gang instantly transferred loyalty to yanma was very funny, considering that they were yelling at shiokara after the time skip

something something yanma being more presidential (think that gira hype scene) is in a coat of a similar style to yankii!shiokara's

i did legit think they had known each other since childhood but i guess toei wanted more homoeroticism than that. cause like. this would have been about say…7 years of knowing each other? 2 years of timeskip, let's say yanma was president for about 3 years cause he DID know racles before the show started proper, and 2 years or so to be able to TAKE that president role cause i DOUBT they beat up that old man and immediately started running the country

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

when KAGURAGI says to prioritize taking back n'kosopa and then like. no

no seriously why is your ENTIRE FUCKING INFRASTRUCTURE dependent on ONE LAPTOP not breaking i don't think that's even how it WORKS don't you have to destroy cables and stuff too like if this computer goes does it self destruct the internet cables or did the n'kosopaians have no internet for three seconds and go on a rampage

when yanma is the wise king supposedly but also uses his face instead of i dunno his HANDS to block shiokara's stomping foot on the laptop. you know. that laptop he will break FOR THE GUY WHO WAS GOING TO BREAK IT

MY NERD ASS WILL BEAT YOUR YANKII WAYS, says the guy who will become more yankii and for the most part less nerdy over the years

yanma doesn't even fucking move. he KNOWS shiokara won't hit him

hey not to be dark cupid AGAIN about this. but. maybe if you had KISSED HIM HERE you wouldn't have needed to destroy your country

shiokara gives very "shoves nerd against a locker" vibes as yanma keeps resisting the other guy

the song "zero to hero" but like "zero to one" instead

ENGLISH LYRICS (GUESSING): no one can change destiny, (yeah?) but life is all uncertain(ly?) and we must be bullshit. i can tell you a to z [FIST PUNCH SOUND] turn on the radio tune into your heart(?) oh, i don't care(?) my life is gone, so take it back and away(?) what's wrong? (or won't you run) so what i'm still alive [hilblil talking] hard times coming [more talking] i'm still alive and the music's coming [talking] i'm still alive and {???} tonight {???} you can't go

shiokara has MADE HIS DECISION and it's following yanma watching someone go super gay in front of your very eyes

the way hilbil is like "ew. yaoi. cut it out"

THE MUSIC FOR ALL OF IT THO

yanma will not go to the top without shiokara. at all. his loyal slack-jawed tanuki MUST be by his side

gira: …………i guess i can understand being that gay yeah

YANMA HAD TO DO IT. FOR SHIOKARA. HIS SILLY RABBIT yeah i'm normal about this mhm

when you're like OH NO THE WHOLE COUNTRY. FOR ME.

when you were moved by something you couldn't see……..I UNDERSTAND YOUR SUBTEXT

THANK YOU AND SORRY SOMEDAY YOU'LL SAY THOSE WORDS THROUGH TEARS AGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH

[ozimagines]

Chris Keller and Ryan O’Reily in…

You’ll Be Back, Dummy

“Teacher’s daughter.” Keller listed, placing his bet.

“Priest’s sister.” O’Reily responded, raising by two dollars.

“Cousin’s girlfriend.”

“Dentist’s niece.”

“Elderly neighbor’s son.”

“Girls only, Keller.”

“Okay; Farmer’s daughter.”

“Isn’t that the setup to a joke or something?” O’Reily and Keller were playing cards in the main room of Em City, having a conversation amongst themselves that Rebadow caught and rolled his eyes to. They’d started listing off their conquests in the middle of the game, mulling over their greatest ‘pulls’ as they called it.

“Doesn’t change the fact that she was, in fact, a literal farmer’s daughter.” Keller responded, folding his hand, glancing nonchalantly at Ryan. It was a lazy, dragging Wednesday. Prison got to be so boring some days you could fucking die. It was more than a little bit the point of their sentences.

“How do you even come across a farmer’s daughter in the city?” O’Reily asked, pulling in his winnings, wishing he’d had a smoke available. He always liked to smoke when he gambled on the outside. Keller shrugged.

“In the Ity neighborhood, there was this guido vegetable cart guy. He introduced me to his zucchini source one time and it must have been bring your daughter to work day, or something because the bitch was standing there in shorts and one of those plaid farm-girl tops, swear to God. Didn’t fuck her in the middle of an open field though. My only regret.” Chris, put his cards down and went to shuffle again when O’Reily shook his head. Gambling was no fucking fun without a smoke.

“Then where?”

“Alleyway. Told her pop I was taking her to get ice cream.” Keller rolled his head on his neck back, then cracking it from side to side. “She got creamed alright.”

“Noice.” Ryan responded, lazily tapping his foot on the floor.

God it was a miserably boring day.

“Wanna go for a walk?” Ryan asked after a second. Keller considered then nodded. They started doing laps around Em City, still going over their conquests.

“How’d you even come upon a chance to fuck your dentist’s niece?”

“She was a dentist tech. Learning on the job or something.”

“You use any of that novocaine that makes your mouth numb?”

“Jesus fuck, Keller, no.” O’Reily was sometimes in awe of Keller’s perversity. Keller smirked. Ryan talked a big game but he was a little league fucker at heart. Keller could think of at least four dental tools he could use in the sack.

“When I fucked the elderly neighbor’s son, we were blasted on E. I was married to Kitty then, but this guy was too pure to ignore. He had a wife and kids but a couple minutes of seduction and I had him on his knees for me.” Keller reminisced fondly, and Ryan crinkled his nose. Keller noticed and almost chuckled. Ryan was too ‘straight’ for his own good.

“Some guys got no integrity. Secret queers, y’know? That’s the only explanation for letting you face fuck them like that.”

“Secret fag, direct fag, who cares. Nobody’s 100% straight.”

“I am, K-Boy.”

“I maintain that no one is. Not even you.”

“And your proof for that hypothesis?” Snapped an increasingly more annoyed Ryan.

Keller got a wicked idea. When they were out of view of the hacks, near the stairs, Keller turned to O’Reily and pressed his hand to the other man’s crotch. Ryan instantly recoiled but Keller didn’t let him, grabbing the back of Ryan’s hair and pressing his lips flush against his neck, tonguing hotly. Ryan’s dick snapped to attention. Of course it did. Whose wouldn’t? He jerked away.

“Fuck, Keller, the fuck is wrong with you?!” He admonished, touching the spot on his neck that Keller licked, the other hand tucking his cock into his belt. Keller smiled. “Oh, what, this was supposed to prove something?”

“No.” Keller said, to his surprise, but what he said next fucking floored him. “You coming back for more will prove something.”

“Coming? For more? Keller, you’re out of your fuckin’ mind.” He stepped to the man, who didn’t flinch or react. “Listen up ‘cause I’m not gonna say it again; I’m. No. Fag. Full fucking stop.”

Keller chuckled.

“Yeah, we’ll see.” Keller walked away, going to harass someone else, leaving Ryan standing there with a hard on and a wet spot on his neck.

Ryan wasn’t even sure he knew what just happened. Coming back for more? Yeah goddamn right. Keller was too cocky for his own good. He was used to seducing naive boys like Beecher, but Ryan was smarter, slicker. Can’t shit a shitter, he once said.

The only issue is that the boner hadn’t gone away quickly. It lingered. Ryan had to stay behind the stairs for a solid second before he was able to rejoin the population. It did feel good. Last person he’d fucked was Howell, and God knows she was selfish in bed. Or in bathroom, as most of their sessions had been.

No, fuck, what was he thinking? No one needed to cum that bad. Besides being a dude, Keller was dangerous. He joined Cyril at the TVs, not saying a word. Cyril kept staring at him.

“What?”

“Did someone hurt you, Ryan?”

“…no?”

“Why do you have a bruise on your neck?” He asked, innocently and Ryan’s blood pressure spiked through the roof. He touched his neck and realized there was a tender spot. He immediately covered it with his hand and excused himself again. He rushed to his pod to inspect the damage, and lo and behold, he had an angry, red hickey on his neck. Fuckin’ Keller! Man sneak attacked him. His blood boiled inside him. There was no way to play this off. No way to hide this. He needed makeup. If he were on better terms with Howell, he would ask her. He didn’t know if Sister Pete wore any. All he could think of was Fiona, so he stuck his head out of his pod and looked for her. He exited and saw her sitting at one of the tables. He couldn’t go back down so he tried to get her attention by dropping a paper clip down onto the tables. She looked up and he gestured to his pod. She, confused, excused herself and went up the stairs.

“What’s with the secret agent shit, O’Reily?” She asked before she noticed the mark on his neck, somehow purpler and angrier than before. “Woah! Hello Nurse!”

“Shut up, Fiona.” O’Reily snapped. She threw her hands up.

“I’m sorry but you have a hickey that pronounced and someone’s bound to remark.” She touched her chest and giggled a little. Ryan’s face burned red.

“It’s not a hickey,” he lied, hoping she would believe it. “Someone took a swing at me-“

“Save it, O’Reily, no one’s buying it.”

Ryan’s face turned impossibly redder.

“Look, I need some makeup to cover this.”

If Fiona was happy before she was elated now.

“The great straight Ryan O’Reily wants to borrow my makeup. Savor the moment, Fiona, you’ve been waiting so long for this.” She put her arms out dramatically, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. Ryan rolled his eyes. Fiona was such a drama queen.

“Fiona, please, I really need you to be cool about this.” He begged, and Fiona clapped her hands.

“Oh, God, he’s begging now. What have I done to deserve such wonders!” She laughed loudly and covered her mouth shortly after. Ryan grimaced.

“You gonna help me or not?” He hissed and Fiona relented.

“Okay, fine. You owe me.” She reached into her little purse and pulled out a small compact. She motioned for him to move closer, so he did. She inspected the damage. “Someone really did a number on you, huh?”

“Fiona.” He scolded and she giggled again.

“Sorry.” She applied the makeup on his skin until the reddish purplish mark was relatively the same color as the rest of his skin, save for a small shadow. She handed him the compact. “Till it goes away.”

“Thanks, Fiona.”

“Anytime, doll.” She started to leave the room, before turning back. “Don’t suppose I get to know how this little situation came about?”

“It’s fine. It’s never gonna happen again.”

Fiona nodded and left, and Ryan sat down on the bed, heart rate going down for the first time all morning. His mind was racing as to how he was gonna get Keller back. All he could think of is Beecher. That was the only thing Keller seemed to care about. He decided that would be his move. He walked downstairs, seeing Keller sitting next to Cyril and Bob, while Beecher and Busmalis were sitting in a corner. He made a beeline for Beecher, making sure to walk in front of Keller to get his attention.

“Hey, Beech.”

“Hey, Ryan…?” Beecher was instantly confused. He hadn’t hung out alone with just Ryan since getting to Oz. Ryan stopped in front of him, eyeing him up and down.

“Looking good today, man.”

“…thanks?” Toby looked over to Keller, who made the basest form of acknowledgement but said nothing. Ryan looked at Busmalis scornfully. Busmalis got the hint.

“I… uh… I gotta go.” He excused himself, warily surveying the situation. Ryan nodded, remarking that it would be a good idea. He looked Beecher over again, not really sure how one goes about seducing his ally’s boyfriend. With one more cursory glance towards Keller, Ryan proceeded.

“Hey, I was wondering if… y’know… I mean… you and Keller…?”

“You gonna finish that thought?” Beecher asked, a small, amused smile playing in the end of his lips. Ryan blushed.

“It’s a little busy in here. Mind stepping over there?”

“Sure.”

They walked right past Keller, who was regarding the situation with an outward indifference, even if something inside him twisted every time a guy talked to Tobias. Ryan leaned in to talk to Toby.

“Keller’s on his bullshit again.”

“When isn’t he?” Toby said with a grin. That was his guy alright.

“He thinks I’m… well… he’s got this theory that no one’s 100% straight.” Ryan explained and Toby raised a brow.

“Are we proving or disapproving that theory today?”

“Fuck you.”

Beecher nodded and went to walk away, when Ryan grabbed his arm and forced him back. Keller certainly clocked that.

“Listen, Ryan, our relationship is complicated and everyone I sleep with gets killed so-“

“I’m not saying sleep with me. I’m no-“

“‘No fag’, yes, Ryan, we know, we all know.”

“Hey, I just trying to get Keller back for his little stunt today.”

“Stunt?”

Ryan flushed and looked away, trying to save face and get revenge at the same time. Toby ahhhed under his breath, sure that Keller had gotten Ryan all worked up with a little surprise loving.

“He can be a little frisky these days, that’s for sure.” Toby said with a short laugh. Ryan crinkled his nose. It was like hearing his parents talk about sex. That only made Beecher laugh harder.

“Look, if you’re not gonna-“

Tony surprised both Ryan and Keller at the same time by wrapping a finger around the collar of Ryan’s shirt and pulling him in for a short, sharp kiss. Ryan pulled away in disgust, and Keller shot out of his chair, receiving oohs and ahhs from the few men that had seen what happened. Ryan never had a plan so badly so quick before. Keller and Ryan were left staring at each other, this kind of awkwardness and anger between them both. Toby was cackling as he walked away, having gotten his revenge on them both, Keller for cheating and Ryan for his homophobia. Ryan stormed off and Keller stormed after him.

What a lousy, rotten day!

Ryan was in the bathrooms between Em City and Unit B, washing his mouth with soap. Keller rolled his eyes. The Irishman was so goddamn dramatic.

“Wanna tell me what the fuck that was, O’Reily?”

Ryan spat and looked up.

“Don’t get any thoughts there, K-boy that didn’t go as I wanted it to either.”

“You touch Beecher again-“ Keller walked forward, menacingly. Ryan stepped to him.

“I’m not a fag, Keller, my god! I’m O for Two today, could you just get off my fucking ass and leave me alone!”

“O for Two?” Keller repeated, so Ryan clarified.

“I’m not fucking queer, and I’ve been kissed by two dudes today. Shit sucks.”

“C’mon, Ryan, you’re so fucking transparent it’s laughable. You’re not as straight as you seem to think you are.”

“Why? Cause I got hard while you were jacking me? Anyone would have!” Ryan waved his arms big, exasperated by his efforts to prove his heterosexuality. “I don’t want to take it in the ass, I don’t want to put it in anyone else’s. It’s a fucking desert in here, you go looking for water anywhere you can. I don’t think that makes me- what? What’re you looking at me like that for?”

Keller had latched onto that last comment, a surprised-ish sort of look on his face.

“‘You go looking for water anywhere’?”

“Yeah, shit happens.” Ryan said with a red face, his ears starting to burn.

“What kinda shit?”

“I’m not getting into this with you, Keller.”

“C’mon. Cards on the table. O’Reily.” Keller leaned forward on the sink. “You’re sexy when you’re angry.”

He popped a wink and Ryan burned inside and out.

“Shut up-“

“Ryan, please.” He twinkled his eyes and held out his hand to hold Ryan’s. A silence passed over them. Ryan paused and considered. “Just be honest with me. You never thought about it? Not once?”

Keller was almost pleading with him now, eyes trying to drag out any semblance of attraction. Ryan’s heart was beating a mile a minute, the idea of being completely straightforward being so foreign to him. He thought and thought and thought, and only when he let loose a sigh did Keller smile broadly, following Ryan’s eyes and moving his head to match.

“I knew it. Once?”

“More than once.”

“Wow.” He moved Ryan in front of him, holding onto his waist and rubbing his nose against Ryan’s cheek, who was flushing and fidgeting in his grasp. “Kiss me.”

Ryan felt and thought and considered and every other word all of which came up in his head as a ‘no’. That said, Keller’s welcoming face, and that ‘fuck me’ look in his eyes, it was all too much. Ryan threw caution to the wind and turned on his own seductive look. He half smiled and leaned in, pressing his lips to Keller’s, not frenching or sucking but still passionately kissing Keller, the man he’d come to think of as a friend and foe. They held together for a moment, breaking apart only when they ran out of breath. Keller nudged his neck a little and kissed the hickey tenderly.

“You realize this is the second time we kissed today?”

“Yeah.”

“Y’know what that means?”

“Hmm, what?” Ryan asked, a little excitement in his voice. It felt good to get this excited over a such a romantic gesture. Keller smirked and Lilly Ryan in, so that he was whispering in his ear. He took a deep breath, and then husked;

“Who’s queer now?”

It took Ryan’s brain a second to catch up with the remark but when he did, he pulled away from Keller roughly and snarled in his general direction, shoving him aside and stalking up to the door. Keller was laughing his goddamn ass off behind him, as elated as he’d ever been. The bitch fell right into the Ol’ Keller Charm trap.

“I hate you.” Ryan said, his voice certainly reflecting that sentiment.

“Aww, baby, don’t be like that.” Keller jibed, making a fake pouting face and enraging Ryan even more. Ryan went to leave the room, when he heard Keller shout behind him;

“You’ll be back, dummy.”

Ryan stomped away. Fuckin’ lazy goddamn no good lousy day.

[karaspal]

"Also, did they SAY that was the only reason she was being sent along?"

yes, actually! they did!

as they are about to send her, her mother tells her "you'll journey to earth to look after your baby cousin, kal-el." her father doesn't even tell her he loves her...

later in the season, kara has a talk with her sister where she expresses sadness over the fact kal had to save her because she still feels like it was supposed to be the other way around and she failed him. what happened to her (getting stuck in the phantom zone) was not her fault, but she still felt guilt well into her adulthood because of the fact her parents drilled into her she's saved only to look after her cousin.

kara: it wasn't supposed to be this way. this is the reason my mother and father sent me to earth.

alex: they wanted you to live, kara.

kara: no, it's more than that. i was supposed to be the one saving him, not the other way around.

in fact, here is something kara said in the season one finale that proves my point - "but my mother didn't send me to earth to fall in love with a human, have children, live in a house with a white picket fence. she sent me here to protect kal-el. and now, i will use my powers to protect the earth. and if i die achieving that, I'm at peace with it."

even in season six, after she's healed from most of her trauma around krypton, she still says the reason they sent her was to protect her cousin. "my father sent me to earth to take care of my baby cousin who went before me..." so it's not her interpreting it wrongly when she was younger. she was sent to earth to look after her cousin, not just have a second chance at life. and that's so so wrong.

"You want to show me what they could have done that would still ensure those kids safety?"

they are kara's parents. their main concern should be kara. instead, they sent her as a scapegoat to ensure kal is fine. i don't understand why you don't see that as wrong. sure, they can tell her to stick with her couisn, but not make it her entire mission.

here are some examples of alura and zor-el sending kara to earth where they are actually being good parents:

supergirl: woman of tomorrow #6

legion of super-heroes (2023)

notice how alura made it a point to tell kara how much she loved her instead of telling her she's only saving her so kara could watch over kal? notice how she said "find" instead of "take care" as to not put pressure on her child? yeah...

"This just sounds like you don't understand parenthood, or the dire situation they were in."

again, kal is not their child. kara is. they shouldn't put this baby over their own daughter but to each thier own i guess.

#funny how she valued it after Lena took advantage of her

why is lena da bus driver all of a sudden?

#alura's gratitude to Alex for what her family did for Kara shores up my argument btw

alura was alive and never bothered to look for her daughter. it's really not helping your point of "alura and zor-el are good parents" here...

also, you could make the argument "oh, she saw kara getting sucked into the phantom zone. she thought kara was dead." which would be wrong because she knew people don't die there, but whatever.

overall, i don't know why you're acting like this is a bad thing. in terms of storytelling, it's quite good. it adds layers to kara's character and makes her much more complex. a main character having bad parents is nothing new and is used a lot when writing a story to make a characters more interesting.

honestly, it's really crazy how kara's parents (in the show) saved her only so she can watch over kal. "you'll journey to earth to look after your baby cousin, kal-el.", "my father sent me to earth to take care of my baby cousin who went before me..." don't you just want your daughter safe? don't you just want her to live? is her life not worth that much to you? her happiness? why must she be spared only to look after some boy? why must you drill into the head of this young girl her life's worth it only if she's giving it away for others? are you not ashamed? ... fucking assholes!

[practicingsmut]

I’m Like a Lawyer with the Way I’m Always Trying to Get You Off

work rival!minho x reader, 3k words, one bed trope, minho’s a bit of a perv but the reader’s kinda into it

Working for one of the largest law firms in the city wasn’t always all it was cracked up to be - the work you did may have been emotionally rewarding when things went the way you wanted them to, but there were still the long hours of wading through bureaucratic bullshit to get those results. On top of that, it was a much more social job than you had expected. At least you got along with your coworkers, or most of them anyway.

The best part of working at your particular job was that it dealt with many clients not necessarily from the city you were based in, so several times a year you got to take an all expenses paid trip as part of your job in order to meet with said clients.

Normally you would be over the moon to be put on one of these jobs, and while you were still excited to travel, you couldn’t help but be upset by the fact that you had been partnered with your least favorite coworker, the one and only Lee Minho. The two of you had joined the firm around the same time and were often given similar cases to work on, so it was no surprise that the two of you quickly became the fiercest of rivals, often trying to outdo each other.

Luckily you hadn’t had to sit anywhere near each other on the flight to your destination, but the troubles began when you arrived at your hotel, tired from the trip and wanting nothing more than to sink into your bed so you could wake up well rested the next morning.

“What do you mean, you’ve put us in the same room?” Minho shouted at the receptionist. You wished he wouldn’t take it out on the worker who was only doing their job and told him as much, but you could still understand his frustration.

“I’m sorry, but this was the only accommodation we had left when your employer called to make the reservation. We don’t have any other rooms opening up for several days,” the receptionist explained. You didn’t know how they managed to keep their cool - if Minho came yelling at you the way he was, you wouldn’t hesitate to snap back at him.

“There has to be something you can do,” he insisted.

“Weren’t you listening, you idiot? There aren’t any other rooms. Come on, I’m tired, and I would rather go to bed instead of arguing about things that can’t be changed,” you said with a yawn, thanking the receptionist before turning and walking off without waiting to see if Minho was following.

Your stuff was already put to the side and your pajamas on your body when Minho finally graced you with his presence once more. You had no idea what took him so long and you didn’t care. You were in the bathroom doing your nighttime skin routine when he came in, but you could hear him clear as day as he threw his stuff down and let out a groan.

“You have got to be kidding me,” he said.

“What’s wrong now?” you called out, not wanting to deal with his bullshit for longer than necessary. Your hands paused their ministrations when his head popped out in the doorway.

“There’s supposed to be a second bed,” he asserted, a look on his face revealing that he thought you were the stupid one in this situation.

You rolled your eyes, turning your head so he’d be able to see. “The couch pulls out to be the second bed. Honestly, do you even listen to people when they talk?”

Thankfully Minho didn’t even bother responding to what you had said and instead just walked back to the room to do whatever it is he wanted to do. When you finally left the bathroom, you found him struggling with the pull out portion of the couch. He was even grunting with the effort of it, something you found wholly unnecessary.

“Oh, move over,” you said, nudging him out of the way with your hip.

“You’re not going to be able to get it. It’s stuck.”

As much as you hated to admit it, he was right. There was no way to unfold the second bed out of the couch. After a quick investigation, you found one of the metal bars to be bent in such a way that it made the whole piece immobile.

“I’m going to call the front desk. Maybe they have a maintenance worker who can come fix it or something,” Minho said, moving to the phone on the nightstand. You rushed over and quickly placed your hand on top of his, keeping him from lifting the receiver.

“Minho. It is nearly midnight. I’m not waiting for some maintenance worker to come up and fix this before going to bed. We can deal with it tomorrow.” You tried your best to keep your voice even, but in your near-exhausted state you couldn't help but let some of your frustration through.

“I’m not sleeping on the floor,” he asserted.

“Then sleep in the fucking bed with me!” You threw your hands up in the air and turned away from Minho, nearly missing the shocked look on his face. “It’s a queen size, we’ll both fit for the night. Tomorrow we can get the couch fixed, alright?”

It wasn’t the best situation to be in, but you were ready to accept any compromise at that point if it meant Minho would shut his mouth and you could close your eyes. Without another word you climbed into bed, making a show of pulling the covers over you as you snuggled into the pillows on your chosen side.

Minho let out a heavy sigh. “Fine. Whatever.” He moved over to where his bag had been tossed and started pulling his clothes off.

“Um, what are you doing?” you asked once his shirt was off and he began undoing his belt. “Can’t you get changed in the bathroom?”

“You’d still see me like this even if I took my clothes off out of sight,” he answered. “I normally sleep naked. You’re lucky I have some sense of decency and I’m keeping my boxers on.”

And what a pair of boxers they were. Boxer briefs, to be specific, a black pair that hugged his hips and thighs, outlining every curve of muscle and… other features. Was he always so fit? How had you not noticed before? You peeked at him through your eyelashes as he walked around to the other side of the bed, hoping he’d think your eyes were closed.

“Besides, you’re not much better, parading around in your underwear. Why is it okay for you to do that but not me?” he questioned as he slid under the covers.

“I’m wearing shorts!” you protested. They were small ones that barely covered more than the panties you left off when you slept, but you weren’t about to let him win any sort of argument. And the sports bra you had on held your breasts firmly out of his view.

“That’s a very liberal use of the word for what you’ve got on, but it doesn’t even matter. Can you just shut the light off already?”

You wanted to respond that you were the one who had been waiting for him, but decided to pick your battles. The need for rest overruled the need to get under Minho’s skin, and soon you were lulled into a dreamless sleep despite the distracting sound of Minho’s deep breaths just feet away from where you were.

Something was different when you woke up in the dark a few hours later. It took you a minute to register what it was, but once you heard it you couldn’t forget it - Minho’s breathing had changed. Before falling asleep they had been long, slow, and deep, but now they were much more shallow and sharp, interrupted every few seconds by a slight gasp and once by a deep moan he had to stifle, probably by biting his lip.

Oh.

You had no idea how to react. Even once you’d resigned yourself to the fate of having to share a bed with Minho, you were completely caught off guard by the fact that you had woken up to him touching himself next to you. Your mind raced with ideas of what to do, settling on the decision to do nothing and pretend you were still sleeping.

“I know you’re awake,” he whispered, the calming of his breathing giving you the idea that he’d stilled his hand. So much for your plan.

“Did you have to do this in the bed? You couldn’t at the very least go to the bathroom?” you questioned, though your words didn’t have the bite they normally did.

“Then I wouldn’t be able to see you.”

Your eyes snapped open at his admission, meeting his gaze immediately. You must have flipped while sleeping to face the middle of the bed. Even in the dim light from the moon shining through the gap in the curtains you could see the aroused blush that spread across his face, highlighting the cocky grin he had.

“You’re a fucking pervert, Minho.” The covers fell from your torso as you sat up, the cool air sending a chill racing across your skin.

“You say that like your eyes weren’t glued to my bulge when you saw me in my boxers earlier,” he countered. Now it was your turn to blush. “Besides, I’m not as bad as you make me out to be. My hand stayed outside my boxers the whole time. I just needed a little friction to work me through the distraction so I could go to sleep, promise.”

You eyed him suspiciously. “You really think I’m hot enough to keep you up at night?” He nodded. “Please tell me this isn’t one of those cliche moments where you tell me you’ve been in love with me since we met.”

Minho let out a mean-hearted chuckle. “Oh, god, no. You’re the most annoying coworker I’ve ever had to deal with, but I do think you’re fucking gorgeous. That’s something I’ll admit to having thought since we met.”

Something about the way he complimented you had heat pooling in the pit of your stomach. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought him insanely attractive as well, but you weren’t crazy enough to masturbate while sharing a bed with him.

“So what now?” you asked, not willing to put into words even in your mind what you hoped he was going to say.

“I could go into the bathroom and fix my issue while you settle back into bed, then the two of us could pretend this never happened.”

“Or?” you prompted, sensing there was more he wanted to say.

“Or you could help me out by fulfilling my perverted little dreams.”

It wasn’t quite what you wanted, but you loved negotiating.

“So what, you want me to give you a blowjob and call it done? Don’t I deserve to get something out of the deal?”

That cocky grin was back. You wanted to smack it off his face, or kiss it off. Either way would work.

“Oh, I could definitely give you something in return.”

His hand touched your arm almost tentatively like he still expected you to run, but when you showed no signs of stopping him he pulled you over to him so that you were hovering over his crotch and your mouth could meet his.

Minho was a fantastic kisser, setting up a steady rhythm of nipping your lips with his teeth and licking into your mouth. His hands slid down to rest on your hips while yours found the hard muscle of his chest.

Then, without warning, he pulled you down so your core landed directly on his clothed member, forcing you to let out an involuntary gasp. He laughed in response, the sound coming out hot on your cheek.

“You did that on purpose, you asshole.”

“Of course I did.”

Wanting to even the score and catch him unaware, you shoved him down onto his back, staying seated above him so you could grind down on him. An almost pornographic moan slipped through his lips, spurring you to continue the motion. A curse escaped your mouth as your clit caught on the tip of his cock, the now soaked layers of clothing between you two both a blessing and a curse as it added to the friction.

Then suddenly you were on your back, Minho pinning your hands on either side of your head while his lips and tongue traced patterns along the column of your neck and his hips bucked against yours. He moved quickly at first, but then seemed to come up with a better idea.

Moving your arms so that he could pin them both above your head with just one hand holding your wrist, he then used his free hand to pull the waistband of his boxers down, freeing his erection and letting it slap against his stomach.

“Careful there, you look like you’re about to start drooling,” he joked.

“Just shut up and fuck me,” you groaned.

“Shh, princess. We’ll get there.” Princess? Where did that pet name come from, and why did it have you clenching around nothing?

You didn’t have time to question it out loud, as Minho’s thumb began to rub tight circles over your clit through your shorts. A moment later his thumb was replaced with the tip of his cock. He slid it through your folds as if there wasn’t a fabric boundary there at all, taking his time to tease your most sensitive part before bringing it back down. He pressed into you, the shorts keeping him from making anything but the most shallow thrusts that barely allowed his tip into you.

“Minho, please.”

You hated how you whined, sure that he was going to tease you for it, but instead Minho just adjusted his position so that he didn’t have to guide his cock with his hand. It came up to cup your cheek, thumb grazing your bottom lip.

“Let me have my fun. I promise I’ll take care of you.” You nodded, trusting this soft side of him you’d never seen before.

From his new position he could rut against you, letting his member catch against you for a moment before springing free. It kept from forming a steady rhythm, something that would have helped you climax faster. Your only consolation seemed to be the fact that Minho was teasing himself as well, if his labored breathing and leaking cock were anything to go off of. At this point you weren’t sure if your panties were saturated from your arousal or his.

“Minho, please, I need you.” Your squirming was making it hard for any purchase to be made, a fact that finally pushed Minho to give in.

“Fuck, princess, okay.”

He let go of you completely and sat back on his knees in order to pull your shorts off, throwing them somewhere else in the room. They were soon followed by his boxers. With tingling hands from being held down for so long, you took the moment to pull your sports bra off, leaving you fully bared beneath Minho.

“Can you hold your legs open for me?” he asked. You obliged immediately, leaving Minho to groan as he saw your cunt already dripping with excitement.

His mouth was on yours again before anything else so he was able to swallow your gasp when he finally pushed his cock inside of you. It wasn’t so big that it hurt, but with your only prep having been some grinding, it was definitely a bit of a stretch. You struggled to keep your legs held open as the head hit your g-spot over and over; Minho clocked this and pulled your legs over his shoulders so your arms could flop back onto the bed and pull at the sheets.

“I’m going to be honest here,” Minho groaned in your ear, “I’m not going to last much longer. Can I come inside you?”

You nodded for a moment before realizing he probably couldn’t see you in the position you were in. “Ye- yes.”

Moments later he was filling you up, the warm and sticky substance coating the inside of your cunt entirely. You could only begrudge the fact that he came first for a moment before he was pulling out of you and sliding down your body, his mouth on you before a single drop could leak out of you.

“Fuck!” you cried out as his tongue buried itself as far into you as it could go while his nose nudged against your throbbing clit. You didn’t think it was possible to be even more turned on than you already were, but something about the fact that Minho was eating his own cum out of you seemed to do the trick. He had your legs shaking in over a minute.

Your hands found their way into his hair to tug sharply on it, though whether you were trying to pull him closer or push him away, even you couldn’t tell. Moments later you hit your peak. If Minho’s face hadn’t already been drenched in your juices, it certainly would have been then. He continued to lick at you, stopping to suck on your clit until you cried out that it was too much.

At that moment, seeing him look up at you from between your legs with eyes full of lust and awe, you couldn’t help yourself. You pulled him up so that you could kiss him, tasting the both of you on your tongue as the mess spread all over your face.

“I told you I’d take care of you,” he whispered against your lips.

After another kiss you answered, “You’re lucky that I really do need my sleep, otherwise I’d be back on that cock in a minute. You better be ready to put it to good use again tomorrow.”

You could feel him smile from the way his face moved against yours. “I guess we don’t have to call for maintenance about that couch.”

[tellerluna-stories]

episode 07: away from home and back again

CONTENTS: 01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. m.list!

TW/CW: none!

A/N: annnd welcome to the final chapter, dear readers! thank you for following this storyline to the very end :''))) I'm happy you all enjoyed thoma and mc's shenanigans, and i hope that you keep the message of this story close to your hearts <;33

Your legs flew faster than light, carrying you across the field in a flash. People stopped and stared as you rushed past, but what were they gonna do, stop you?

You ran, and ran, and ran, and ran. 

(Meanwhile, you were only one millimetre away from having a complete meltdown over… whatever had just happened. Listen, it wasn’t your fault that you had zero knowledge about how to deal with this!)

The only time you slowed down was to briefly scratch Taroumarou behind the ears, for he had been waiting outside of the gate. Hey, you still had your priorities, even when you were supposed to be running away from all of your problems.

But no matter how fast you ran, your racing thoughts swiftly caught up to you— you could no longer tell if your heart was pounding because of the complete overload of cardio or if it was thanks to Thoma and his way of words. Perhaps it was both.

‘As more than friends, in fact.’

Gritting your teeth, you ran even faster, no longer caring about where you were headed. Anywhere would do just as long as you could ignore how your heart threatened to burst out of your chest to take flight, or those ridiculously impractical butterflies that swarmed in your chest cavity like a swarm of hopeful pests. Really, just what were you they hoping for?

You slowed to a stop, the dead leaves crunching under your feet.

There you went again, running away from Thoma. Why did you always run from him? Why were you so afraid of him, of allowing him to treat you gently and cherish you so?

Overhead the branches rustled, sending scattered shafts of sunlight and falling leaves tumbling down from above— in contrast to your muddled state of mind, the world around you was serenely peaceful. And to top it all off, your legs had brought you to the crosswalk where you and Thoma had apparently first met. Talk about the irony.

“Unfair.” Crouching down next to a nearby lampost, you buried your burning face into your knees. “…So unfair.” 

When you had promised yourself to support Thoma’s decision no matter what, you had not anticipated this. Everything was wrong, wrong, wrong— your armour of rationality was long-lost, leaving you to face your raw emotions alone and defenseless. The only sliver of comfort you could find was in the fact that there would be no cars using this road today, because the last thing you wanted was for the whole world to see you curled up like a disgruntled millipede beside the road.

The butterflies swarmed in your chest again, fluttering with the promise of hope; somehow you’d achieved the impossible and actually won the fifty-fifty percent chance of having your feelings returned. For some inexplicable reason, you… actually had a shot. At something. 

“It was so much easier to think rationally when I wasn’t the one going through it,” you complained to the sky. “Can I take back all of my previous complaints, please?”

The sky remained helpfully quiet— well, you supposed that that was what you got for asking for change without even considering whether or not you were prepared for it. However, it did not make the situation any less frustrating.

“I never even expected to get this far! Now what am I supposed to do?!”

Woof!

“Taroumarou, wait for me!”

Your head snapped to the direction where that all-too-familiar voice came from— oh, you just couldn’t catch a break, could you?

Briefly you contemplated your options; the first one was to continue running away. And the second was to actually face your problems like an adult.

(Just kidding! You only technically had one option, because if you ran any more you were pretty sure you would keel over and die from overexercising. Shame on you for not giving your all in P.E. class.)

“Taroumarou…” The footsteps slowed to a stop, that voice of honey-sunshine trailing off into silence. You didn’t need to see him to know what was going on.

Taking a shaky breath, you silently accepted your fate; just like that, Thoma had found you once again. 

You whirled around to meet a masterpiece straight out of the Romantic period– a work of art with golden hair gently tousled by the wind, his emerald eyes brimming with surprise. Faintly-flushed lips that had just barely managed to form your name before trailing off into reverent silence, and a school uniform in colours that matched your own.

(Somehow, the picture before you gave you a sense of deja vu.)

“I, uh– hi.”

“Hey.”

You both stood there awkwardly for a minute or two; the silence was so thick that you could’ve heard a pin drop.

(Well, except for the faint sound of whining that could be heard from behind Thoma– most likely the sound of judgement from the Boss Dog. Sorry, Taroumarou!)

“If it’s about what you overheard me say earlier, I…” He swallowed thickly, averting his eyes. “Well, it’s uh- that’s definitely not how I wanted to tell you. But if you’re uncomfortable with it—”

“No!” Your voice comes out louder than you anticipated. “I mean– no. It just…”

Oh, nothing. Just that you found out that all your unrequited pining wasn’t so unrequited after all. You, the former matchmaker who knew how to counsel any sort of relationship except your own and now had absolutely zero knowledge of how anything worked anymore because according to your predictions for yourself, something like this was statistically impossible to happen and now all of your calculations were now aflame and burning to ashes thanks to one singular puppy-boy—

Something cold and wet rolled down your face, the salty taste lingering on your tongue; with horror, you realised that you were crying. 

“Wh–” You swiped at your face hastily, trying to catch the falling tears before you embarrassed yourself any more than you already did. “Please don't misunderstand! I’m not mad at you or anything!”

“Then what’s going on with you?” Thoma pleaded. “Just tell me what’s wrong, please.”

“I…” Your voice cracked, the tears not stopping even when you willed them out of existence. Stupid tear ducts. 

The look in his eyes was so simple, so honest that it made you want to crumble right into his hands, and you hated it. Every cell in your body yearned to finally yield to what you'd been keeping under lock and key for so long— speak up, you coward! Running away will only hurt him!

“Since when?” 

He swallowed hard. “I’m not really sure, but I think… since the beginning.”

“What?” You nearly choked on the air mid-sniffle, which was not an ideal situation to find out exactly when your long-time crush had been reciprocating your feelings. “Like, when we bumped into each other in front of the classroom?”

“No, here.” Thoma chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “Since… ever since we met here. I didn’t realise it back then, but…”

He trailed off in silence, the rosy flush of his face speaking for him. 

If you were going to be completely honest, you gaped at him like an idiot. This guy had had a crush on you ever since he first met you – an event that you barely remembered – and he… he…

You needed to clear your head and be sincere, or else you’d really lose your mind.

“...If I'm gonna be honest, Thoma…” You say softly, every ounce of honesty pouring into your words. “I'm terrified.”

No words could describe how afraid you were; you, who no longer had any more armour or defenses to put up. Like a reckless, well-meaning dog in a china shop, all of those had been destroyed by the gentle heart of the young man before you, leaving you in complete surrender. And no words would ever capture the absolute joy running through your veins when he chose to be with you over anyone else, when he chose to care for you even when he didn't have to.

…Which was really frustrating, considering that now you actually wanted to verbalise your feelings. Just where did your gift of speech go when you needed it most?

 “I’m… really not the best with words. Or feelings. Or—”

“Hey.” Thoma interrupts you mid-sentence, raising his eyebrows in his signature ‘don't you dare start self-deprecating’ expression.

“Right. Sorry.” You cleared your throat. “I don't— I'm just…”

“... It's okay, you know.” 

His eyes softened, that bittersweet smile spreading across his face like sickness. “Like I said, I didn't want you to find out that way because I didn't want you to be pressured. You don't have to be considerate of me.”

Eh…?

Your eyes widened— what was he saying? 

“Once again, I'm sorry for tangling you up in all this,” His words sounded distant and murky, reverberating through the thick fog of your clouded mind. “Please forget about anything I said—”

Horror and panic flooded your entire mind as you realised what he was saying; no, no, no, no, wait that wasn't what you were supposed to tell him wait wait wait—!

“I don't want to!” You practically shouted at the top of your lungs and buried your face in your hands miserably, crouching down once more in dead millipede position as you cursed your terrible communication skills– why, why, why did you have to be so bad at this?! “I like you too, for crying out loud!”

Absolute silence. 

“...Thoma?”

He didn’t reply.

Several minutes passed, and still no response; you mustered your courage to peep through your fingers and nearly choked on your spit. You really, really didn’t want to laugh in this scenario, but… Thoma looked like he had just gotten hit with a shovel.

Taroumarou silently padded towards Thoma and gently tugged on his pant leg, but the puppy-boy remained unmoving. No amount of tugging or nipping would budge the golden statue no matter how hard the Boss Dog tried– but from the way he seemed too familiar with the procedure, you got a feeling that this wasn’t the first time that Taroumarou had to deal with this.

Finally, Taroumarou gave a resigned whimper and raised one of his hind legs– your eyes widened in horror as you realised what he was about to do.

“Taroumarou, don’t!”

Thoma nearly jumped a foot in the air at the sound of your voice, snapping out of his daze at a most admirable speed; the Boss Dog retreated hastily, giving a reproachful sneeze as he skittered back to a safe distance. The miserable expression on his face had you silently apologising to Taroumarou for what must’ve been the hundredth time that day. 

“Um.” Thoma blinked owlishly, a confused (and hopelessly adorable) expression on his face. “I- I didn’t mishear you, right? You said that…”

“...Yeah. I did.”

“Oh.” His eyes somehow widened even further. “Oh.”

“I- look.” You began, ruffling your hair in frustration. “I can’t word it properly, so I’ll be borrowing some of your words here. Do you remember the last time we were here and I asked you what it meant to be in- in…” 

‘Thoma, what does falling in love feel like?’

Your spit caught itself in your throat again, nearly choking you to death from the power of sheer embarrassment. What had you been thinking?!

“In…” Thoma’s voice trailed off, a rosy flush gracing his cheeks– why was he the one blushing like a young maiden here?! “Ah. I remember.”

“Right! Anyways!” Your hands flailed around nervously till they found their place on the lamp-post, your nails digging into the metal. “I- I kinda get what you were talking about now! The whole flying-but-falling, afraid but not thing…” Your voice trailed off as you accidentally made eye contact with Taroumarou, who had slowly walked up to hover behind Thoma’s ankles. 

Kill me now, said the Boss Dog’s expression. Please. Death would be more merciful than having to sit through this.

That death stare alone was enough to make you rethink every word that was about to come out of your mouth; no, you didn't want to admit that you were doing this thanks to a dog, but… he had a point.

You were hiding again, hiding behind words that Thoma had already used like the wretched coward you were, all because you were too afraid of taking the leap. But it was time for you to grow up— if he could manage being blatantly honest about his feelings (the horror!), then so could you.

Yes, you decided, squaring your shoulders and looking Thoma directly in the eye. The time had come for you to suck it up and say what you really meant.

“...Do you remember the day we became seat-mates?” You asked quietly. 

“Of course,” He replied almost immediately. “How could I possibly forget?”

In spite of yourself, a soft chuckle makes its way out of you; it only felt like yesterday in your memories, but so much time had passed between then and now.

“I still remember how confused I was to see you there,” You continued, a wry smile working its way up your lips. “Back then, I didn’t care who or what would sit beside me in class. I just wanted peace and quiet.”

You thought of how lonely and grey the world had felt when you had attained your desired empty seat, completely lacking in the warm hues that you had become accustomed to. Fiery yet gentle red, a warm sunset orange, and yellow that shone like sunlight– for someone who had experienced such vibrant hues, returning to black and grey was a torturous existence. How could you ever return to a normal life when you had already experienced it in colour?

“...Yeah, I definitely didn't get any peace and quiet after that.”

Thoma winced visibly. “Sorry.”

“Hey, don't be sorry. It was a good thing because…” You hesitated for a moment. “...I was happy.” 

You could admit as much, though that sentence alone would never be able to capture how elated you were, the dizzying joy that rushed through your entire being when you realised that someone genuinely went out of their way to spend time with you. That somebody saw you standing in the shadows and went to stand with you, slowly walking with you till you stood side-by-side in the light. 

To you, the forgotten extra, the afterthought who was only remembered when needed— there were no words that could describe how precious that feeling was.

(Man. You had fallen even harder than you originally expected. )

“Even if I’m bad at showing it, I was really happy. The times we ate lunch on the rooftop, or when we'd walk home and laugh about what happened during the day…”

Your fingers twisted in the hem of your shirt as you chuckled, shaking your head in resignation. “And that's why I didn't want to say anything about it. Because I was so happy I was afraid I'd mess it all up.”

That didn't even capture one-fourth of how terrified and confused you felt; the concept of someone finding genuine interest in you as a person was so alien to you that you tried to push it away, running as fast as you can till your legs gave out. But all the same your heart yearned and bled for the opportunity to be cherished, for something to change in your closed-off, wretched mindset, for someone to see through your armour and understand. 

“I’m scared, Thoma. It feels like I’ve been reborn, and it all started when I met you.” Your eyes prickled dangerously, warning you of the tears that threatened to spill any moment now. “Everything is so new to me, and it scares me so, so much— I’m terrified of change.”

Good job, whispered a part of your brain— and in spite of being on the verge of tears, the uncomfortable feeling in your chest slightly loosened, leaving you with your raw emotions. Your mind flowed freely, recalling so many precious memories and feelings that you had accumulated over all your time with Thoma; all were so dear to your heart that you wished you could hoard them away forever. In complacency you had hoped to preserve them in a state of eternal tranquility, but…

“...Me too, actually.”

“Hah?” You blinked owlishly, your eyes coming back into focus just in time to see Thoma flush pink. 

“I mean– uh, well, I get you there!” He sputtered furiously, rubbing the back of his neck with the same charmingly awkward air that he always had. “I really, really cherish all the time we spent together, but I didn’t know if it was the same for you, and I was– I was…” 

I was afraid, just the same as you.

For a moment you're struck with the sheer irony of it all— this all could have been very easily avoided if you had actually just communicated with each other and weren't actual boneheads when it came to subtle cues. 

Was it still too late to launch yourself directly into the sun?

“...Looks like we were in the same boat all this time, huh.”

“Yeah,” Thoma replied. “I guess so.”

That's it?! You wanted to scream at yourself. You had wasted so much time dawdling because of your fears, and now you didn't even have the energy to say anything anymore. 

Thoma didn't deserve this, no– this was why you had thought he deserved better. He shouldn't have had to carry the burden of a coward like you who couldn't even say anything when it mattered most—

“I… You should go.” You sniffed most unbecomingly, dabbing at your eyes with the stiff fabric of your uniform. “Sorry– sorry for just bursting out like this all of a sudden. It’s not like me.”

But he didn’t turn away; instead, Thoma stepped forward to the edge of the curb. The dead leaves rustled around his ankles restlessly, parting themselves to make a path for his feet. 

What on earth was he doing?

“Thoma, didn’t you hear me?”

“I know.” His emerald eyes fixed themselves solely onto you, soft yet steady— the intensity of his gaze sent heat flushing to your ears and your face in a most unwelcome manner. And then Thoma stepped even closer, blocking you from view with his body. "Sorry, I’m- I just…”

Your grip tightened on the lamp-post, instinctively trying to steady yourself for whatever he was about to say.

“I…” Thoma cleared his throat, the faintest trace of pink colouring his cheeks. “I just want to be a bit selfish, even for just a little while. I want to keep this moment for myself."

His voice is barely above a whisper, one softer than the dreams of a sleeping child, yet those words rang louder in your ears than a thousand school-bells. If — and only if — your intuition was correct, then this moment was a secret meant to be shared with only two people, one as well-kept as a hidden gem of a bakery. 

(The sudden recalling of a certain memory made you flush even hotter— was that what he had meant to imply that day?)

“Do you know how happy you’ve made me?” He asked, a gentle smile gracing his lips like no other. 

“No, not really,” You managed to force out, your voice wavering from all the tears you choked down. “I have no idea what I’m doing. Please send help.”

Behind Thoma, Taroumarou put a paw over his eyes as if he couldn’t bear to watch (well in his defense, you wouldn’t have wanted to watch this either.) But Thoma did not cringe, no— he threw back his head and laughed.

His was a light, airy laugh that sang of freedom, of joy, and of release; this was the laughter of a boy who’d been carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders but was finally released from everything that had been holding him back. It was the joy of a young man who now knew that there was no need for him to hide any longer, that the truth of his heart was one reciprocated.

And then when he finished laughing, he gave you a smile that said, 'Don't worry. I'll help you, no matter how many times it'll take.'

Your hands trembled, your nails digging into your palms as you struggled to process what he just said. 

You were… messy. Inconvenient. A violent delinquent who couldn’t control your temper, someone who pushed away affection at every opportunity and ran away when confronted with your emotions. So why did he keep reaching for you? What about you made Thoma want to keep coming back?

“I’m not perfect either, you know.” Thoma smiled ruefully, rubbing the back of his neck. “I get stressed out when I can’t live up to everyone’s expectations of me, and I can’t tell when I’m allowed to say no and be myself. But I’ve learned a lot, all thanks to you.”

Why are you the one saying that to me? You’ve taken the words out of my mouth, you wanted to cry out. Unfair, unfair, unfair.

“It always feels like home when I’m with you. Studying with you, eating with you— even if it’s just walking with you, I feel like I’ve finally come home.” He continued, fiddling with the hem of his shirt nervously. “Even if I feel nervous and unsure of myself, at the same time I’ve never felt safer. And it sounds rather selfish, but… I want to be able to give you that same sanctuary.” 

The leaves fell to the ground silently, all the world quiet as if holding its breath to hear your response; Thoma shifted nervously, clearly more flustered than you’d ever seen him before.

His flush deepened. “If- if you’d let me, of course. Is it okay if I keep doing that, even when we’re old and grey?”

The tight, uncomfortable feeling in your chest suddenly released without warning, and your weary heart cried out in relief. You didn’t have to run away anymore.

You… didn’t have to run away anymore.

There was no reason for you to swallow your feelings down till they bloomed in your lungs like poisonous flowers; no, there had never been any reason for you to suffer in silence at all. You had worried for nothing when apparently he had always, always been looking at you– all this time you had been someone special to him, someone more than a funny sidekick or someone to set him up for his next character arc.

Tears ran down your face undisturbed, the warmth reminding you that this— all of this, was real. Thoma was real. 

(And there was also that obnoxious little part of your brain screaming “VICTORYYYYYYYY!!!!” at the top of its lungs, so yes, this was definitely real. You would never have daydreamt that annoying shriek up, whether deliberately or not.)

Your legs ached to run away once more— but not away from Thoma, for the first time in this entire time period of knowing him and liking him. You wanted to run towards him and be caught up in his arms – or catch him up in yours – and cry. Or laugh. Or anything would do, just as long as it was with him and him alone. You wanted to make up for all the times you ran away from his sincerity out of fear, mistaken his kindness for some ulterior motive thanks to your never-ending paranoia.

Let’s go home, whispered your prodigal heart.

 

"Wait, stay there." Your voice trembled. "You're always the one who comes to find me. This time- this time…”

I want to be the one who goes to you.

His eyes widened slightly in confusion, but the puppy-boy nodded in acknowledgement.

Taking a shaky breath, you eyed the wide stretch of asphalt that stood between you and Thoma— a divide that you had put there in the first place, but who was to say that you couldn’t remove it?

Your foot trembled as you took one faltering step forward, planting your shoe in the center of one white stripe of the crosswalk. Courage, that was all you needed.

I’m not good enough for him, said a nasty, hateful inner voice. Three steps and not a single reply, for such folly was beneath your attention.

This won’t work out, said another. You ignored it and took another two steps forward.

I don’t deserve to be loved like this. Ouch, that one hurt— four steps forward, because you were feeling petty.

He waited patiently, just as he always did; the fading sunlight danced in his eyes of emerald, dazzling your world with the light of a thousand unshed tears. For a moment you remembered an old film based on a true story, one that told of a loyal dog who also sat and waited for someone special in his life.

You’re almost home now, said the look in Thoma’s eyes. Don’t give up yet, please, please, please.

A small part of you sighed and wondered what you had become— someone who was practically wrapped around the finger (the paw?) of an insolent puppy-boy, a reserved individual whose heart melted and now yearned for someone who shone like the sun. Realistically, you could have just run away once more and avoided dealing with this.

But the reason why it was called falling in love was because it meant that the other person would catch you, knowing that you would do exactly the same for them. And you wanted to become someone who could do exactly that for Thoma.

You prayed for strength, for bravery to see this through to the end; if you wanted to be that person for Thoma, then you would need courage. No matter how many times your legs trembled on this road, no matter how many people tried to tell you this and that, you could not run away. You didn’t want to run away this time.

One step, two steps— just a little further, you told yourself. You just needed a little more courage to brave your journey to its end. 

One last step forward, and you held your breath, hardly daring to breathe as you allowed him to envelop you in warmth. A part of you still wondered if it was a dream, but that faint, familiar scent of laundry soap, the unprecedented warmth that bubbled up in your throat… you could never have dreamt that up in a thousand lifetimes.

“…I’m here, Thoma.” Your voice trembles ever so slightly.

He smiles and buries his face into the crown of your head, stroking your hair with a tenderness that you now knew was reserved only for you. “Welcome home.”

From a distance, Taroumarou watched as his subordinates embraced in a mess of tears, a satisfied almost-smile on his fluffy face. This entire ordeal had been ridiculously drawn out and could’ve been avoided if they had just communicated properly, but… the Boss Dog supposed that all was well if it ended well. You could only be a pup once, and as long as his subordinates were happy, then he was satisfied too.

[all1e23]

Let Go [One-Shot]

Pairings:  Bucky  x Reader 

Warnings: Smutty smut. 18+. Be cool kids. 

A/N:  Surprise I actually wrote something. I am in fact not dead. I wrote this months ago and I’m finally posting it, but here ya go. My terribly written smut for all to enjoy. un’beta’d cause I’m too lazy to care tbh. I am no longer doing taglists. 

***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Reblogs are my jam, though!***

You've been in an awful mood all day. Everything was setting you on edge and it had everything to do with your boyfriend turning your seemingly good mood from this morning sour and you couldn't shake your frustration. Bucky left with Sam four weeks ago for some mission that was supposed to be a quick in and out. One of those ‘home in a few days’ missions. It dragged out much longer than that as all missions did. A month later Bucky was finally home, sneaking in late last night and slipping into bed after you fell asleep. You were elated when you woke to your boyfriend kissing you and whispering in your ear that he was home and missed you something terrible. He was out of bed before your alarm went off claiming he had to go debrief with Sam. You knew that meant he came home before he was supposed to. As sweet as it was, he was still gone before the sun came up after being gone for a month and it was entirely unfair. Your frustration only grew with every hour that passed with his absence.  

So much so that by the time Bucky got home you were aching to fight and he knew it the second you spoke. The sharp edge your tongue held, the short answers you gave him and the way you slammed the fridge looking for the wine you set on the counter only a few moments before. Even your walk was angry. Usually light in your movements, your steps were heavy and your hips didn’t have their usual relaxed sway. Bucky watched the way your fingers gripped the stem of the green tinted wine glass in your hand and he wondered how many you broke over the last months. He wasn’t going to ask. At least not tonight. He didn't say anything at first. Simply watched you as you walked around the six hundred square feet apartment you share. 

By the fourth time you snapped at him Bucky stopped what he was doing and came to find you in the kitchen, glaring at the fridge as if it had personally attacked you in some way. He stared at you for several long and torturous breaths, fully taking you in and then he nodded made some decision. He jerked his head back towards your bedroom, his voice soft and low when he finally spoke, “Why don't you come talk to me for a minute.”

“What?” You snapped. “What do you mean come talk to you?” 

What did he think you were doing right then?  

“You're in a bad mood. Frustrated with somethin' and I’m guessin’ you need to let go,” he explained gently, pressing himself against your hip and you realized right away what he meant. Talk didn't mean talk. Without question, you wanted what the release he was suggesting, but that would sour your sour mood and the dark cloud hanging over you wasn't ready to let go, despite how much you liked feeling his soft lips press a gentle kiss to your temple. 

“That doesn't always fix my bad mood,” you countered.  

Bucky raised a brow and tilted his head to the side, looking slightly amused by your brush off. You've been together long enough that he knew you very well, so the idea that he couldn't read you well enough now to know what you needed was laughable. He wasn't going to laugh as much as he wanted to. He didn't want to hurt your feelings when they were already vulnerable and he also wanted to live to see tomorrow. 

“Not always but most of the time. More times than not.”

You huffed and shook your head. It wasn't that he was wrong. You were frustrated. It was a terrible day. Sometimes (most of the time) you needed some help letting go of your frustration and it almost always helped to ease your tension. You were still too cranky to let Bucky help you and Bucky knew that the second you didn't respond. so, he let it drop. If it wasn't going to help he wasn't going to push you. He wanted to help, not make you feel worse by pressuring you to do something you didn't want to do. "What do you want to do for dinner? We can order pizza? Pasta? Whatever you want, baby doll.”

“Pasta?” You repeated with the faintest smile and Bucky only hummed in conformation. You weren’t stupid.  You knew what he was doing. Dangling warmth and comfort in front of your eyes until you caved and gave into him, allowing him to bring you out of the darkened hole you were burying yourself in. Whatever he could do to make you feel better, he was going to do it. He had a look on his face that said there was a suspicion he was partly at fault.  You fought to keep your frown but your cheeks hurt from the force it took to stop your smile. 

“Come on,” you said abruptly. Bucky held the fridge open, staring at you with uncertainty in his eyes. You turned towards your bedroom and waved for him to follow you. “Come on,” you repeated again. 

Bucky was slow to follow. You heard him kick his boots off and creak of the bathroom door as he moved through your apartment. You felt him before you realized he had made it into the bedroom. The heat coming off him was burning your now naked back and the cool touch of his left hand on your hip made you shudder, instinctively leaning back into him. 

There were no words between you. You both said enough already. He brushed a soft kiss to your shoulder blade and he urged you towards the bed in front of you. With his hand pressed into the center of your back, he pushed you forward until your cheek pressed against the cool teal blanket covering your bed. There was a brief squeeze to your hips before you felt his lips pressing a kiss to the small of your back. It was a gentle, soft reassurance that he had you and was going to make sure you were taken care of. 

A cool rush of air came over you and you knew he was no longer standing behind you, but your confirmation came when the bed dipped behind you. You pressed yourself back against him and Bucky chuckled, “Impatient. Can’t I take a second to enjoy the view?” You didn’t answer and Bucky didn’t expect you to. He knew you well enough to know when you were in the mood to play, to be silly in the midst of all the heat and that wasn’t your headspace tonight. Bucky understood that better than anyone. He had nights like this, too. 

You glanced back just in time to see him giving himself a few lazy jerks and your mouth watered at the sight. There was something about watching as he stroked himself, the veins in his forearm and his bicep flexing just enough to tense. It left you dripping every time and in this position, Bucky could see exactly what it did to you. Your gaze flicked up and you knew Bucky had caught you drooling by the sinful smirk and sparkle in his eyes. He winked and you couldn’t stop your grin, turning your head you buried your face in your sheets. He didn’t need to see the embarrassment on your face, nor did he need to see the way your mouth fell open when he pushed into you without warning. Your hands gripped the sheets in front of you and pulled them taut. 

A low, throaty moan left him as he filled you, inch by inch, until you felt the front of his thighs pressed against you. Three breaths. Bucky gave you three long breaths. A moment to collect yourself. He waited until you raised your head and wiggled your hips. Bucky bent down to kiss right below your ear, his right hand pressing into your shoulder blades and he let go. Pinned to the bed and helpless under his hold, all you could do was hold on. 

This wasn’t one of those times when Bucky was gentle, easing into you and bringing you to the edge over and over before he finally gave you the release you’ve been begging for. You loved when he took his time drawing out every whimper, but you also loved this. There was no need to label it as anything other than a quick fuck. A desperate need for each other as you chased your highs together. The only sounds filling the room were your moans and Bucky’s heavy pants as his hips slapped against you. It wasn’t going to take much for either of you. You haven’t felt his hands on you in a month and after how tightly you’ve been wound all day, you were ready to fall apart. You could feel the tension you’ve carried all day finally break as you came hard around him, every inch of you trembling when you felt Bucky still behind you. 

You peeked back over your shoulder to catch the sight of him, jaw slack and brows furrowed as he came back down. He looked beautiful like that and you told him so, earning a teasing smirk in return. His red cheeks held your attention more than the cheeky grin because under all snark and brooding, he was soft and a little shy. He slowly pulled out of you and collapsed onto the bed, burying your face in your pillow. Bucky was only gone for a few minutes before you felt him curling up behind you in bed, snaking arms around you and whispering in your ear that he ordered pizza and pasta because he wasn’t sure which you wanted more. You couldn’t help but grin and rolled over in his arms, burying your face in his chest and humming happily when he kissed the top of your head. 

Bucky ran his fingers down your back and sighed heavily, a hint of anxious energy spilling into his words, “You okay?” 

“Mmm, yeah,” you replied in a soft whisper, shifting in his arms enough that you could press a kiss to his chest. After moments like that, he needed reassurance that he didn’t cross a line and you were still okay. “I don't know. It was one of those days. I guess I needed to let out some tension.”

Bucky gripped your chin and forced your head up from his chest so he could look in your eyes. "Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked again. “I don't want you to not talk to me when you're upset and think that I want to solve our problems with sex-" you kissed him before he could continue, smiling softly as you pulled away. The fact that he was worried you would think that made your heart ache in the best fucking way. 

"I don’t think that. It wasn't really anything. A bad day and I guess I missed you more than I realized while you were gone. Sam needs to learn to share," you pouted playfully but Bucky's loud chuckle made you grin.

"I'll tell him you said so. What if I take some time off and we go away for a few weeks?" 

Your eyes widened dramatically and Bucky playfully ran his right hand over your face to wipe the look of shock off your face. You giggled and pulled his hand away, kissing his palm and placing it on your chest, “A few weeks? What about Sam though? You can't leave him hanging and what about the city? What if someone needs you?”

Bucky snorted in response to your unnecessary panic. As if he was the only superhero in New York. It was almost laughable to think that the city needed him more than he needed you. “There are probably twenty enhanced individuals, at least, in this city at all times. I think it can get by without me for a couple of weeks.” 

“If you’re sure, Buck,” You hesitated. Your doubt must have been easy to read because Bucky pulled you close and bumped your noses together until you laughed making him grin that sappy grin he reserved for you and you alone. With your foreheads pressed together he pressed a chaste kiss to your lips and hummed contently, “I’ve never been more sure, Y/n. Sides, I put you second long enough. Steve got to be selfish, it's my turn.”

[peter-pantomime]

Stranger Things Fic Recs, Part 4

Part Three | Two | One

Gen

Let Me Just Hold You Now (Steve and Robin)

Steve has a routine for nights like this. A routine for the times when his world gets flipped on its axis. Just four simple steps to keep his body alive while his mind tries to sort through whatever fucked up thing he just went through. Steve has a Routine. Robin breaks that Routine.

i'm right up the road (Steve, Max, and Eddie)

“Well—“ The guy flounders for a second before taking another very brave and heroic two steps into the room. “Does he have like, medication or something? Are you supposed to call someone?” “I don’t know! That’s why I asked you to help me!“ “Well I don’t know!” He nearly yells, more stressed than angry. This is definitely not what Steve meant when he’d advised them to stay calm and not panic. Don’t bring in a random guy who’s only going to fuel the panic.

A Heart Whose Love is Innocent (Wayne and Eddie)

Eddie hadn't spoken a single word to him since showing up on his doorstep with nothing but the clothes on his back and a single, half-empty backpack, about a week ago. Wayne had never considered himself to be a particularly patient person, but apparently he wasn't too old to learn something new about himself, because he was. He was so very patient with the boy. When he talked to the kid and received nothing but vague head movements or the occasional grunt for an answer, Wayne didn't press, didn't push, didn't do anything but accept that this was how they communicated for now, and it wasn't fine, exactly, but Wayne could wait. 5 times Wayne had a conversation with Eddie, and 1 time Wayne had a conversation about Eddie.

Steve/Eddie

the shame is on the other side

Steve wants to go to a place where monsters aren't real and people don't care about him, and he wants to drink and dance and stop thinking for once. Just once. He lands in a gay bar. And then he keeps landing there.

it would be surrender to let me see

[...] The point is, no one has ever done this much for Eddie in his life. (Well, he knows some very scary people in suits did something to get the murder charges against him dropped, but that happened while he was mostly unconscious, and he still doesn’t know or want to know the details.) As far as he can tell, Steve has spent every waking moment since dragging Eddie’s bleeding skin sack out of the Upside Down trying to make sure Eddie never wants for anything again. And that just makes the wanting so much worse.

A Gem Beyond Counting

The wrong feeling pitches and dives toward nausea again. Steve folds in half, eyes squeezed shut. The room spins, and his skin goes clammy. Behind the rush of white noise in his ears, he thinks he hears Eddie’s voice, calling to him, saying his name. There’s a soft pressure on his back that moves up to the back of his neck, and — Gone. Everything’s fine. He feels fine. He feels good, even. Eddie has a hand on the back of his neck and one clutching his forearm. Eddie looks frantic, eyes wide, a sheen of sweat on his face and stray damp curls stuck there. Steve’s gaze is drawn to his mouth, taut and worried and always in motion. He wants to lick into it. OR - Eddie falls first, Steve falls harder: sex pollen edition.

My Four Leaf Clover

“Do you wanna tell me?” “That depends, on if you’d wanna know,” Eddie replied in his most seasoned theatrical voice. Sometimes it was hard to remember Eddie played pretend almost for a living, and other times it was impossible to forget. “Doesn’t matter,” Steve said. It is June the ninth, 1986, and Steve Harrington has now lived through four world-shattering and world-saving events. The most surprising development of his life this summer, however, is the fact that he's currently lounging around outside with Eddie Munson listening to him prattle on about who knows what. The most surprising development of his life is that he's enjoying it.

sir stephen strider finds his suzie

Dustin watches Eddie's face as everyone else giggles. He's retained his typical intimidating smirk for much of this encounter, but as Steve stumbles through his fictional seduction, Eddie's eyes soften. His smirk slowly turns to a small grin. [...] Nancy presses a hand over her mouth, but it does nothing to hide her smile. Usually, this is the point where Eddie would make them all roll initiative. Dustin has his D20 ready. But Eddie smiles. Eddie fucking smiles, and not in that maniacal way he does before siccing something horrific on them, he fucking beams, and says, "You're gonna scrape your neck on his mace doing that, just so you know."

keep me in your glow

“You want me to apply this liberally to your hair from root to tip?” Eddie offers, shaking the bottle, trying to convey to Steve that he won’t make fun of him. Although maybe he still sounds like he’s making fun of him. “It’s just, uh–earlier you told Robin that raising your arms hurts so I thought…” Steve looks at him, expression unreadable. It’s probably weird, what Eddie’s doing. Standing in Steve Harrington’s bathroom is weird enough without the additional presumption that Steve would want him prolonging this experience. He really should’ve left the second Steve proved himself capable of showering alone, but – “Well we can’t use that one until my hair is damp, not wet.” Steve plucks the bottle from Eddie’s hand and promptly swaps it out for a smaller white one. “We can’t really do anything with my hair right now, it just needs to air dry. Um, I do kinda need it out of the way, though. If we’re gonna fix my face.”

getting lost in the dark is my favorite part

“Nice to meet you, Eddie,” said Nick. “It’s rare that I find someone else here who shares my interests.” “Interests?” He remembered he was wearing his battle vest, Nick’s hand lingering right in the middle of the giant Dio patch. “Oh, you like the heavy stuff too?" “I really do.” “Fuck yeah,” Eddie said before he could stop himself. His face got hot. Shit, that sounded way too eager, a totally excessive level of enthusiasm just for meeting another gay metalhead. He had given himself away as a clueless virgin, and Nick was going to stop smiling, walk away, and find someone with the ability to maintain his cool for the length of half a conversation. But Nick didn’t stop smiling. Instead he said, “I know you just got a drink, but do you want to get out of here?” Or: After his near-death experience, Eddie decides it's time to get rid of his pesky virginity and heads to a gay bar. It leads to some... realizations... for both him and Steve.

Like Strangers Laugh and Like Subways Feel

Hoisting his bat in the air, Steve unlocks the door and wrenches it open. Eddie Munson falls into him, up against his legs, half sprawled out across the step. Steve drops his bat with a clatter. Or: Eddie shows up on Steve's doorstep, hurt, panicked, and in need of a helping hand.

he's begging babe stay, stay

The late June heat lingers with a slow sort of stretch that envelops the two amid the sleepy safety of dusk. Steve’s sleeves hastily rolled and shoved haphazardly onto peeling, sunburnt shoulders in accommodation as they aimlessly walk empty neighborhood streets. Bathed in the golden lamplight of suburbia. Steve distracted enough to allow the older boy to lead him this far along without so much as a question of their destination since leaving the hotboxed confines of Eddie’s Uncle’s trailer. “Hey,” He begins conversationally. Eddie’s eyebrows lifting expectantly, though he goes on smoking. “The element of surprise and I don’t mix so well these days, you know? Not that consideration exactly comes to mind when I think of you, Munson. But — “Steve’s face softens as Eddie’s eyes roll theatrically. “Could be nice to clue me in now.”

in breakable heaven

Eddie leans out of the window on crossed forearms. Steve’s next projectile, thankfully, goes right over his head. “Hello." “Hi,” Steve says, “can I come in?” Eddie Munson and the terrible, no good, very bad, actually pretty alright summer.

Shame on the Night

[...] There’s a story Steve remembers about looking back, a punishment in salt. He’s got his key in the ignition and there’s something brackish in his mouth when he turns to see the shadow in the window. “We can’t…he’s alone,” he says and no one answers because they know he’s right but they don’t know what comes next. It’s Dustin who finally breaks the silence, a quiet, “where can he go where no one would look?” Eddie hides at Steve's house. There are consequences.

Ace of Spades

Eddie comes back. Steve helps.

the feeling that you give me, wanna give it right back

[...] Every time Steve comes over to Eddie's to smoke up, they end up in some kind of stupid argument. Usually it's about music, or movies, or whether Dustin should ever be allowed to have a pet again. But tonight, somehow – Eddie can't remember exactly how it got started, but he definitely blames Steve – they're in each other's faces about which of them gives better head.

Hard to Learn

[...] Realization dawns, then it’s quickly followed by anger and… hurt? The first quickly eclipses the latter, and Eddie flings open the car door. “See you around, I guess, Harrington,” he spits, beginning to limp away. [...] “Oh, for the love of-,” Steve mutters, then runs the couple of hobbled steps that Eddie has managed to put between them, grabbing his arm to spin him around. “Your home is half portal, idiot,” Steve says. “You’re staying with me.”

man's good faith and will to perservere

Eddie Munson's birthday is in November

600 Square Feet

There’s no response from Steve and Eddie is contemplating swapping out his bun for donuts when Steve starts laughing. A full bodied laugh that has him pressing his wrist to his mouth to keep from losing his lunch all over the car and Eddie finds himself smiling despite his confusion. “Are you— Are you experiencing a medical event? What’s happening here?” Steve chokes down some water and sighs, “My parents really sold me on this idea that I was gonna get out of school, go to college for business, take over for my dad, live in some— some mansion on a lake.” He gestures between them, “And now i’m waiting on tourists and sharing table scraps with Eddie Munson.” Eddie huffs out a small laugh, “Bit of a downgrade, huh?” “Are you kidding me?” Steve shoves his fingers through his hair, “This is— kind of perfect, actually." Falling in love on a shared mattress.

defrost

“So what’s the plan?” Steve shoots him a look. “Why do I have to have a plan?” “Your car.” Eddie shrugs. “Your call.” "I think..." Steve sighs. "It would be safer to wait for the snow to stop, and then go from there. I don't want to actually crash into a ditch or something." He glances at Eddie, nervousness on his face. "What d'you think?" "I'd say we're fucked either way but if this means I don't have to walk in the snow, I'm all for it." "That's the spirit." (Eddie hates Steve, for the most part. And now they're stranded in the middle of nowhere. And it's snowing.)

sloe gin fizzy, do it till you're dizzy

[...] Steve doesn’t flinch away from the closeness. Just breathes and blinks. And then his eyes flicker down to Eddie’s lips and right back up, so quick that Eddie’s hazy brain would have missed it if he hadn’t been paying attention, hadn’t been anticipating it. Eddie takes it as the invitation it has to be, and slowly, slowly closes the distance. His nose does bump into Steve’s as he enters his space, but he pauses, hesitates with his mouth hovering a hair’s breadth away from Steve’s. He waits for the rejection, for the brutal shove away, for the disgusted “what the fuck man?”. But they don’t come. What does come is Steve’s mouth, pushing forward to press against Eddie’s.

so destiny has brought us oh so close together

When Steve inhales he shuts his eyes and lets his head fall back, exposing the line of his neck, sending the smoke upwards on the exhale. Eddie watches because he can’t help himself. This is another strange thing. He’s always known that Steve Harrington is attractive, but it had always been in an almost clinical way, like the way he could look at Nancy and know she’s pretty. It was objective. Simply an observation that Steve’s features formed a pleasant arrangement. He understood why all the girls in Hawkins tripped over themselves for the pleasure of King Steve’s attention, but it had never affected him personally. Eddie knew better. Or he was supposed to know better, anyway. Or, 5 times Steve and Eddie have sex with no strings attached +1 time it actually means something.

[kageyuji]

shortening his name except he thinks you called him another guy’s name

⤷ oikawa, bokuto, atsumu, suna, mattsun ; [gn!reader]

GENRE/WARNINGS: comfort(?), angst if you squint hard enough, mild swearing

NOTES: i will literally offer my hand in marriage if you reblog. and thank you to @/sugawaaras for giving me the idea for mattsun’s <33

━━ OIKAWA

even though he tried to be confident, in reality, his self confidence sat on a throne built from things he told himself in the mirror and compliments he never believed

so its not a surprise that his first reaction just... isn’t one. he’ll stop and replay it over and over again in his head to make sure he’d heard you correctly

and then his heart breaks — it actually hurts him, makes him feel like he can’t breath, and before he even knows it theres tears in his eyes

of course, he knows you’re never supposed to let the reason you’re crying see you crying

so he attempts to act like he’s more annoyed than that he just had his heart just obliterated

it’s not a secret though. through the pain in his eyes, anyone can see the shattered remnants of what was once his heart

“ru, can you grab my phone for me?” you called to your boyfriend from the couch, remembering that you’d left your phone in the other room.

it was quiet for a moment; not long enough for you to ask if he was okay, but long enough that the silence was odd. you heard heavy footfalls again, then saw oikawa standing just inside the room with a clear look of betrayal on his face.

“what?” you asked him, wondering if he was kidding around. you hadn’t done anything, there was no reason why he’d actually be upset with you.

as he stepped closer to you, you could see the tears whelling up in his eyes, and you were left to wonder what was wrong.

“what’s wrong? tooru, hey, are you ok?” your voice was much softer when you spoke this time. your heart dropped when you saw him step back at your step forward.

“so now you can call me by my name?” you think his voice was meant to be low and hostile, but in his struggle not to cry it came out strangled and cracked.

“what did... do you mean ‘ru?”

“yes! who the hell is that? if you wanted to-“

“no no, babe, your name is tooru. the last syllable of your name is ru. it’s just a shortening of your name, not someone else’s.”

you watched his lips form a smile and he let out something like a laugh, seemingly at his own confusion, and then the tears finally fell.

he’d walked into your arms soon after, with his arms wrapped tightly around you and his face buried in the crook of your neck

“sorry... sorry for not trust- trusting you, i just-” his sentence was cut through with sharp breaths and hiccups, and then finally stopped with your own voice.

“it’s alright, i didn’t mean to scare you. we can cuddle if you want, hm?”

he was already struggling to keep himself from fully breaking down. but when one of your hands came up to pet his hair, a whine left him — you think it was supposed to be an ‘mhm’ to your offer — and his hands gripped tightly at your shirt, his arms around you getting tighter.

━━ BOKUTO

he doesn’t miss a beat, immediately looking up at you to wonder if he’d heard you correctly

it’s just a small spike of anxiety at first, but the more he lets the foreign name resonate with him, the more it makes him worry

he has to build up the courage to ask you who the other guy is, because he can’t do it right away, he’s way too nervous

he looks so sad as well, puppy dog eyes looking at you, seemingly just slightly worried

unbeknownst to you, his heart is pounding in is chest and with each passing second, it runs the risk of shattering

“‘taro!” your voice was a giggle as he left little kisses all over you. they weren’t nearly enough to leave hickeys, just little pecks across your face, your neck, your chest.

as soon as the name left your lips though, he stopped, golden eyes snapping up to look at you with a pain you’d never seen in them before.

you could tell he was definitely upset about something, but you had no idea what it could be. hell, the way he looked at you, it was almost as though you were the reason.

of course, you were unaware that bokuto’s first thoughts went to rintaro, middle blocker from the famed inarizaki. suddenly he was thinking of every time you’d ever spoken about the team, said how many fan girls they had, how many games they’d won.

he wanted to say something. he really wanted to ask what you’d meant. but the words seemed caught in his throat.

it wasn’t long before he couldn’t take it though, and he pushed the words out, despite the alarms going off in his head and his heart immediately jumping to his throat.

“who is ‘taro?” you didnt think you’d ever heard him sound so small. so timid, so close to his voice cracking with the tears he was holding back, so... scared.

“you? who else? i can call you kou if you’d prefer that though. you don’t have to look so upset.”

bokuto smiled then, relaxing the weight on his arms enough so he was on top of you. he supported himself enough not to crush you, but there was nothing more he wanted in the world right now than to be held by you.

━━ ATSUMU

he liked to consider himself a tough guy. he liked to.

but there were times whenever his support fell, leaving his world to crumble in his hands, slipping through his fingers no matter how hard he tried to hold it all together

and when thought he heard a guy’s name that isn’t his own come from you, it felt just like one of those times

he was asking what you’d meant before his mind could even properly register your words

and by that point he didn’t care enough to replay the name in his head, his mind already caught up looking for the things he’d done wrong, the things he hadn’t done.

“oh, ‘umi, if you want to we can go to th-”

“what the hell?”

it surprised you how much venom laced his words, despite the fact that you’d done nothing wrong. the thought that he was being sarcastic or joking with you crossed your mind, but atsumu wasn’t exactly the best actor.

he couldn’t fake the look on his face, couldn’t fake how his heart had seemingly stopped just from the look in his eyes.

“what do you mean?” your voice was soft when you spoke now, no longer so nonchalant.

he lips pressed into a thin line and he set his jaw in frustration. it took him taking a deep breath to finally say, “you called me ‘omi.’ if you like-”

“tsumu.”

“no, i heard you, you called me omi. if- if theres...” he never finished his sentence. there was already a lump in his throat and he knew that if he were to say anything more, he’d cry.

“no, no. i called you umi. like your name just a little bit different.”

his face was drawn in a look on confusion. his eyes studied you, trying to look for any sign of you lying. but he trusted you, of course he trusted you.

he came over to hug you, his arms wrapped tightly around you. you heard him sniff, but you knew he’d deny crying if you asked him.

“i love you,” his voice made him sound so small, it was a level of weak and vulnerable you’d not seen from him.

“i love you too.”

━━ SUNA

the words “stay calm” had never been repeated in his head to himself so much

well, it was more like a string of curse words with “stay calm” thrown in occasionally, but he’d never felt so scared

the look on his face is annoyed at first, but it quickly starts to shift into one with a little more worry

he’s terrified, in all honesty. but he’s already told himself he’s not going to let you see that

“taro, can we stop by a corner store on the way home? i need something.”

your voice had been so calm. so why did it feel like his heart had just been ripped out of his chest?

he knew you hadn’t meant to. but why you’d even slipped and call him by another name in the first place worried him. it took him only a few seconds for his mind to land on bokuto koutarou.

bokuto koutarou, one of the top aces.

“well fuck you too i guess.” his tone may have been confused with one of anger at first, but you could tell that wasnt it. anger is a secondary emotion, you knew in reality he was hurt.

the only problem is, you didn’t know what. from his words you knew it was something you’d done. but there was nothing that came to mind.

“sorry? what did i do?”

suna hesitated for only a second before asking why you’d called him by another name. he took a deep breath immediately after speaking, your silence only breaking his heart more. as though it wasn’t already destroyed.

but your silence was born from shock and confusion, not being caught like suna had assumed.

“taro. like rintarou. like your name. who else would i be talking about?”

“uhm. koutarou? i don’t know, forget about it.” he’d never felt like a bigger jackass before; he never swore at you.

you smiled a little at his words and walked over to hug him. he hummed at that and pressed a small kiss to your temple, then buried his face into the crook of your neck.

“i didn’t mean to-”

“it’s ok, rin.”

━━ MATTSUN

he had to stop for a moment to let it sink in before he could react

after that there were too many emotions rushing through him to do anything for another few moments

in fact, his silence coupled with the distant, betrayed look on his face was somewhat unsettling

it takes him longer than he would like to question you, but it’s because he’s already preparing to collect his shattered heart after one of his worst fears becomes true

“why are you here?” mattsun heard iwaizumi’s voice and he smiled a little to himself, knowing that he must have been talking to you.

he’d been waiting for you all day, it seemed like forever since he’d last seen you. the only thing he wanted right now was to hold you.

“oh, i’m here to see ‘kawa!” you said happily. mattsun could hear the smile in your voice without even seeing you.

you were here for oikawa. of course you were here for starboy oikawa tooru, of course your boyfriend was just a stepping stone.

he was still frozen when you rounded the corner. the look on his face was concerning, you couldn’t remember the last time — if there ever was one — he’d looked absolutely terrified, the last time he looked so hurt.

“mattsun... are you ok?”

he didn’t answer you. it took him a few moments before he could finally speak, and even then his voice was different than it usually was. it was... pained? betrayed? whatever it was, you knew it wasn’t mattsun.

“did you really come here just to see oikawa? what happened to me being your boyfriend?”

it took you a few moments to try and understand what he was talking about. you’d never said that. hell, you always came for mattsun, not once had you ever spared oikawa a thought.

“no, babe. i said ‘kawa’, as in matsukawa.”

he seemed to melt at your words. that expression disappeared from his face, his body untensing. he moved to pull you into his arms, holding you close to himself with a desperation he’d not had before.

him thumb rubbed soothing circles on your back. you could tell he wanted to say something. but then he stopped right before the words left him, instead opting to make a joke to lift the mood.

“good, i was about to kick oikawa’s ass.”

“...we were having a moment.”

[elvisabutler]

Hi!! Congrats on 500! Would I be able to request the prompt “are you drunk? i thought you stopped drinking?” from angst with austin!elvis! Thank you so much 😘😘

thank you anon! 💖 you definitely can! general note, elvis did not really drink all that often due to the fact that he was a mean drunk and generally speaking, let's be honest, his mother was an alcoholic and he was at least aware of the possibility of him becoming one. why he couldn't apply that knowledge to pills is a fascinating case of well it's prescribed so its fine vs it's illegal/not given to me by a doc. but i digress. so that means it's austin!elvis x reader time though i could make a case for 50s austin elvis asking his mama that.

angst, "are you drunk? i thought you stopped drinking?" - austin!elvis ( see also: it's never safe for us not even in the evening 'cos i've been drinking )

tw: unhealthy relationship tbh. drinking, obviously. codependence. mention of elvis's drug use. a slight age difference. better than his normal but still oof.

it wasn't always like this. it wasn't always like this until it was always like this. it wasn't always like this until your husband proved time and time again you made a mistake. you made a mistake marrying him when you were 20 and in love and he had just come back from war, "oh please daddy, say yes, all he wants to do is marry me and we can have a family."

what you have is a daughter born too long into your marriage for everyone to not think there was something wrong with you and elvis. no, that hadn't been it, but to make a kid you have to be in the same room together. it wasn't always like this until your husband's affair with ann margret was splashed all over the tabloids.

"a pink bed, elvis? are you kidding me? this is humiliating!" you shouted.

"it ain't like that baby!" he roared back crowding you. "you know i wouldn't do that satnin."

truth is, you didn't know what he'd do anymore.

it wasn't like this until you were left alone at graceland for two movies and jerry tried to keep elvis on a leash but "it's getting bad." so you come to hollywood and elvis- he's exhausted but it's always that he's fine, he's got his medication just go back to sleep. as if you've been able to sleep worth anything without a glass of wine or five since the ann margret incident. it wasn't always like this and it wasn't like it at all when you found out about lisa. you had all his attention and every second not on set filming was spent touching your belly and singing songs to it. hell, he had even tried to regain some semblance of a sleeping pattern. it wasn't like this for the blissful year until it went back to being like this.

you drink heavily after she's born, enough that elvis hires a nanny because he can't wake up all the time with her and go on shoots and "goddammit woman, she's our daughter, stop this and take care of her."

he makes you quit right before the 68 special, something about how he has plans to reinvigorate everything in his life and that includes you and him. but there's something about those eyes and him looking like he has all the hope in the world that makes you do it. and so it stopped being like that for a while and you were happy. you both were so happy and lisa was trying to walk and seeing him tell her "up up up" has you blurting out "you should call it the lisa marie."

but then the colonel did exactly what you said he would and clipped everyone's wings. this was supposed to be the new beginning and now- and now it's ruined. elvis is strung out on god knows what any more. and you drink. and you worry. and you drink. and you worry. and you drink. and you have to leave, your parents will pay for another round of rehab or you'll make elvis do it in the divorce but its clear you can't stay here. your liver can stand being here any more.

you're drunk already. it's 11 in the morning and you know your words are mildly slurring when the driver asks you if you think this is a wise decision. it's the wisest one you're ever going to make you think. you're drunk already and it means you slame things a little harder than you should when you're packing up the last bit of stuff from the room you share- ha, that's a joke- with elvis. between that and the curtain opening up his eyes blearily blink at you.

"baby? y/n? what're doing?" his own words come out a little slow but you can't tell if that's from whatever downer he took to sleep or from his half asleep state. you figure it's both.

you take a deep breath and stand up a little wobbly. you can do this, you can tell him what's been on your mind and what you're doing. "i'm leaving you, and i'm taking lisa wit' me."

your own accent betrays you throwing away whatever training your mother instilled in you to try and be more more southern belle and less poor trash. it angers you to your core and has you half tripping in your heels before you catch yourself in the bathroom.

the noise your stumble makes has elvis up in a heartbeat like he wasn't just passed out not even five minutes ago. his legs carry him to the bathroom where he crowds you against the counter.

"are you drunk? i thought you stopped drinking?" he growls, grabbing your chin, forcing you to look him in the eyes. "you're not taking lisa like this. you're not goddamn going anywhere like this."

"i am." you spit back, actually letting a bit of spit hit his face. "and i've been drinking again for months you just haven't noticed. strung out on whatever those leeches have you on."

he shakes his head and lowers his voice to a whisper. "no i'd- i'd have noticed you drinking like mama again."

"not when you're not here. or when you're here you're a ghost. lisa's cried for you and i have to tell her daddy's passed out or daddy is in seattle or across town but can't visit because he's doped up." you whisper back, grabbing elvis's wrist in an attempt to force him to let your chin go.

he grants your request and once again shakes his head. "satnin. darlin'-" he stops himself and you can see his eyes tearing up. "i let you get that bad again, didn't i? i did- i'll stop. don't leave. we'll- go together. we'll go to that place you went to together."

you fell for this once, you think, back before the 68 special and you know quite well the colonel won't give elvis enough of a break to actually do what would need to be done for both of you to get healthy. you put your hands on either side of elvis's face and shake your head. "no, honey. i'm not- i'm goin'. my parents are taking lisa and i'm goin'."

there is no room for him in this equation and from his sigh he knows it. "come back when you do, please. i can't- i need my girl. please. i'll do something just come back when you're better. please don't leave me like mama. please."

you know he won't let you go if you don't say yes. you shouldn't say yes but you can't stop it coming from your mouth. "i won't, handsome. but you gotta let me go right now."

his hands drop to his sides almost like you were a general and he gave an order. he places a kiss on your forehead before wrapping you in his arms. "promise."

"i promise." you say.

you're not sure if you were lying or not.

[lieblxng]

dimensional-duo

"All he did was pull me aside and tell me he was going to give me…something." Something that may or may not have been gay, which he still wasn't opposed to. There was no way he was going to admit such thoughts to Donnovan, though, lest he be teased to no end for it. "He didn't really elaborate on what, though…" "And wait, why do I have to be examined? I wasn't the one who was bonked just now!" Dimentio knew Julius had his reasons for research, but this one eluded him completely. Who's going to be the one to break the news to him?

“Simple curiosity, I suppose…” [ His curiosity was more than simple, though. It would be the driving force to brave the harsh winter storm while on the other side of the coin, blinding his senses and logical intuition. All in a pursuit of what amused him, to put it bluntly. Julius swore it was rather the pursuit of knowledge and education, but he wasn’t the best liar. Outright honesty was a key trait he and his other inherited from their original. He couldn’t deny his innocuous needs and interests that could be his downfall, no matter how much he may try. And it has been, in tragic events. That, however, was for another day… ] “Stay still, will you?” [ he said once he got close to Leon, putting one hand on his cheek and observing what he could. Leon wasn’t his muse, but he did have to take care of Leon’s counterpart when he still had his own facility–so he was privy to some information and knew to some extent what was right. Staring into those iconic golden orbs, he could immediately detect that there was an issue: they were a dim, nearly monochromatic dull yellow instead of the glittering, lustrous aurate color they were meant to be. No shine in the eyes from the light reflecting off them either–they were as murky as the underbelly of a lake. ]

[ Bewilderment didn’t accurately reflect the feelings he went through attempting to wrack his brain around this. An alarming symptom of this presumed illness–was it not exercised out of the former champion with a bonk? Of course, it wouldn’t make any sense if it did, but none of this made sense anyway. ] “This is…” [ he mumbled under his breath, but before he could finish his sentence and resume his examination, a strange sensation shot throughout his body–bringing forth twistedly wholesome and energetic bubbles of laughter erupting from his mouth. Once he got a corral on himself after a second or two, he covered said mouth as a flash of pink covered his cheeks. Oh no. ] “W-woah, what happened there?” [ Donnovan stared at his kid with a raised eyebrow, confused on whether or not he should find it cute or just weird since Julius’ personality didn’t call for giggles like that. In fact, it meant something very wrong if Julius out of all people giggled like that. It wasn’t inhumane or anything for stoic people like him to laugh, but typically his kid showed happiness in other, different ways. And anyone could tell that the laughter wasn’t natural. ]

[ Sonno didn’t hesitate to rush over to his other, placing his own hands on the other’s shoulders out of concern and pulling him close. He didn’t understand it either, and knew something wasn’t right with him too. He wasn’t…directly opposed to what he witnessed, but more akin to…put off, just slightly. ] Juli, are you okay? [ Despite that, he wanted to do everything he could for his companion, simply out of the love he had for him and everyone else he knew. ]