#a lot of younger teens are just trying to fit in with those around them

[cosycryptid]

Pick Up Duty

Also on AO3 [here] Steve's peaceful, quiet night in is interrupted by six drunk teens in need of Steve's babysitting services. Chauffeuring them around in the early hours of the morning brings Steve to some long overdue realisations about himself and his very close friendship with Eddie Munson.

Steve regrets adopting so many children the moment they turn 18 and start going to parties.

They don’t really need him in a hands-on way that often anymore, which is something he sometimes feels sad about, but they still regularly call on him for advice so it’s not like he doesn’t get to see or talk to them. Also, after everything they’ve been through, Steve already feels like an old man in his early twenties, so maybe it’s for the best that he doesn’t need to go chasing around town after all six of them anymore.

Eddie sometimes calls Steve ‘Gramps’ just to be a dick. He knows he should probably start reminding himself he’s still young and still has a world of opportunities in front of him, but he’s been in a bit of a slump over the past few years, he just feels so tired all the time. There are no monsters to fight anymore and no more traumatic hell dimension related shenanigans, but he still feels like he’s waiting for something bad to happen every day, like there’s something stopping him from being able to feel entirely safe.

Sometimes he feels like he’s living on the run, which is ridiculous because he’s never had a more stable home than the slightly cramped but affordable apartment he now shares with Robin and Eddie. There’s just something though, something just beyond Steve’s grasp that means whenever he’s anywhere outside of their humble living quarters, he feels unsettled and like he doesn’t quite fit in the way he used to. It’s like he’s a square peg trying to fit in a round hole or some other weird metaphor along those lines.

Steve simply feels lost, like he’s drifting listless through life and has no idea who he is or what he wants anymore. It sits heavy on his shoulders, dragging him down. Carrying that feeling with him everywhere he goes is exhausting.

Okay, so maybe it’s a lot of a slump.

He’s relaxing in their living room, his feet kicked up on the coffee table in a fashion that would give his parents an aneurism if they could see him, especially since he has the aforementioned ‘Devil worshiper’ of Hawkins’ head in his lap. His fingers brush though Eddie’s hair lazily. A movie’s playing on the TV, but neither of them are watching it. Eddie has his eyes closed and this gentle, content look on his face that has Steve mesmerized.

Moments like this are the only time he feels like himself.

Eddie’s hair has been so soft since Steve started giving him haircare tips, and it always smells nice because they share hair products now. Steve’s thankful that their friendship has evolved to one where casual touches and clinginess are no big deal because it’s just so soothing to run his fingers over Eddie’s scalp and through the lengths.

Sometimes he can’t believe Eddie lets his guard down enough to let him to do this. If he’d told younger Eddie they were going to be this close one day, he would have been laughed out of town like he’d deserved at the time. Then again, Steve’s younger self would probably have some choice words if someone told him he was going to risk his life to save Eddie one day. He wouldn’t have believed in a million years that Eddie would become one of the people Steve first thinks of as a shelter in the storm when he needs comfort or someone to talk to.

Although it now shames him to admit it, he probably would have punched someone if they had told him that one day he would look at Eddie Munson, the guy who gave speeches on the cafeteria tables and sold drugs out of a lunch box, and wish it was just a normal, acceptable thing to kiss your friends on the mouth. Sometimes Steve thinks that life would be so much easier if they were both gay or something because then they could date each other instead of being hopelessly single. It’s a thought that catches him by surprise every single time.

Right now though, sitting on the couch with Eddie’s head on his lap, Steve feels like he’s finally coming up for air after being trapped under water. Steve’s not at all bothered about finding a woman to share his life with during moments like these. If a close, affectionate friendship with Eddie is all Steve ever has in the way of companionship, that’s more than enough.

The phone rings, bursting their little bubble of peace.

Eddie’s face draws into a frown, and he lets out a small, discontented groan, turning his head to the side and pressing his ear into Steve’s thigh like he’s trying to make the noise go away. Steve sighs, instantly frustrated that someone has decided to ruin their rare moment of peace. He hates that Eddie’s no longer comfortable and relaxed, his fingers itch to smooth out the creases where his eyebrows have drawn together.

“It’s 1am,” Eddie mumbles, annoyed. “Who the fuck is calling this late?”

“I don’t know,” Steve replies, he brushes a lock of hair behind Eddie’s ear. “Let’s just ignore it. They’ll give up eventually.”

Eddie tries to relax his muscles again. “Hmmm, good idea,” he agrees sleepily. “Don’t wanna move, too comfy.” The corner of his mouth ticks upward in a smile. “Your thigh’s so soft and warm. It’s like a pillow, Steve.”

Steve feels his face burn and his stomach swoop like he’s leaning over the precipice of the world’s tallest skyscraper, but he doesn’t comment. Instead, he focuses on trying his best to block out the piercing ring of their house phone and ease Eddie back into his previous state of tranquility.

The phone rings for what feels like hours but eventually falls silent. They both let out a sigh of relief.

It starts up again less than a minute later.

Eddie’s fully unsettled now. “Ugh! Really?” he exclaims dramatically, slapping a hand to his face hard enough to make Steve concerned about the possibility of his multitude of rings taking an eye out. Steve likes Eddie’s eyes, it would be a damn shame if anything happened to them.

“Shhhhh,” Steve soothes Eddie, knowing he’s had a stressful day at work and had complained about a headache earlier. “It’s ok, I’ll go,” he whispers.

“Nooo, that’s what I was afraid of,” Eddie whines dramatically. “Don’t go. I don’t want you to move.”

Steve let’s out an amused huff, easing Eddie up gently so he can slide out from under him without disturbing him too much.

“I’ll be right back,” he says.

“Promise,” Eddie mutters, using his doe eyes and pout to his full advantage.

Steve almost says fuck answering the phone, but whoever it was seemed insistent. He tried not to let his mind wander to the idea that one of their friends might be in danger. No, it was best if he answered.

“I promise, drama queen,” Steve replies with a cheeky smile, ruffling Eddie’s hair before he walks away.

The second Steve picks up the receiver, he already knows who’s calling. The giggles and shushing are a dead giveaway.

“Hello?” He says, in spite of his better judgement telling him to hang up before it’s too late.

“HEEEEEEEYYY STEEEEVE,” Dustin's voice drawls. The sheer volume and slight slur to his speech immediately expose that he is fully trashed.

“Hey, Henderson,” Steve sighs, a hand automatically going to his hip as he feels his dormant, but eternal babysitter instincts kick in. “How much have you had to drink man?”

Steve sees Eddie sit up and lean over the back of the couch in his peripheral vision.

“GUYS! IT’S STEVE,” Dustin shouts to get the attention of someone on the other end of the call. His voice is so loud Steve wrenches the receiver away from his ear with a wince. “I TOLD YOU HE WOULD ANSWER. HE’S THE BEST.”

“Volume, Henderson,” Steve chastises.

“Oh, sorry Steeve,” Dustin replies, sounding guilty. “Sooo watcha been up to? Do ya miss us? Oh! Guess what, I finally beat Mike in a drinking contest. Almost threw up but it was wooorth iiiit,” he singsongs.

“Is there a reason why you’re calling me drunk off your ass at one in the morning?” Steve asks. “Or did you just phone to ask if I miss you?”

Dustin takes a breath to answer but seems to get distracted by a suspicious noise in the background. “Oh shit! Mike is actually throwing up in a trash can now. Oh, but it’s ok because Will’s holding his hair and rubbing his back. That man is a saint.” Then, because these kids just cannot give Steve a break, he adds, “Also, Lucas lost a shoe, we have no idea where it went, but this was his most expensive pair apparently. His mom’s gonna be so piiiiiissed.”

There go another two years from Steve’s life span.

“Dustin could you please just put someone who’s a little more sober on the phone?” Steve requests, his blood pressure rising.

“Fine.” Steve can almost hear Dustin’s eyes rolling. There’s some shuffling on the other side of the phone.

A hand catches Steve’s wrist and wraps around it. Steve looks down to meet Eddie’s curious gaze. ‘Everything okay?’ Eddie mouths, his thumb lightly stroking Steve’s skin.

‘Yeah,’ Steve responds, offering a reassuring smile.

“Hi Steve, I am not as drunk as the others,” Eleven’s voice says cheerfully.

“We did an experiment to see if anything happens to El’s powers when she drinks alcohol and it turns out El can drink like a machine,” Dustin says proudly, his voice further away. “It’s like it barely even phases her. She drank us all under the table.”

“Yes bitch! That’s my best friend!” Max pipes up proudly in the background, the clap of a high five following.

Steve finds himself fighting off a smile despite his frustration. They’re hopelessly endearing. He loves them very much, even if they do still test his patience and his nerves on an almost daily basis.

“That’s great, El, really cool,” he says. “Do you know what Dustin wanted by any chance?”

“Oh, yes,” El replies helpfully. “He was going to ask if you could pick us up and drive us home.”

“We walked as far as Family Video, but then Lucas started complaining like a baby that his foot was hurting because he lost his shoe,” Max chimes in, most likely leaning on Eleven’s shoulder judging by how close her voice sounds.

“Hey! You try walking barefoot on the cold ground when it’s too dark to see any stones lying around,” Lucas protests.

“You aren’t barefoot, idiot. You’re wearing a sock.”

“It has holes in it so it’s basically the same thing.”

“Whatever.”

Steve’s about to stop them, but Lucas says something that makes Steve’s blood run cold.

“What about you? Your leg is still bleeding from where you tripped on the curb and fell into the road and I’m pretty sure your ankle’s twisted the way you’re limping.”

“Wait, what does he mean you fell into the road, Max? Are you hurt?” Steve asks, his grip tightening on the phone.

He feels Eddie squeeze his wrist. It grounds him just enough for his thoughts not to spiral.

“Relax, mom,” Max huffs. “I’m fine. Lucas is overexaggerating. I’ve had worse injuries falling off my skateboard.”

“Okay, I need all of you to stay put and not get yourselves into any more trouble.” Steve instructs. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

“Thank you, Steve,” El responds politely.

“You’re welcome, El. Tell Dustin he owes me. Big time.” Steve slams the phone back on the receiver and exhales a heavy sigh.

Eddie’s still holding onto his wrist, gently. “Want me to come with you?” he offers. “Keep them in line?”

“No, it’s ok,” Steve responds, offering him a grateful smile. “I got this. Go get some rest.”

Eddie looks like he’s about to argue but seems to back down at the last second, letting go of Steve so he can move off the couch.

“Yeah, okay. Wake me if you need anything when you get back.” He stands and stretches. The worn band t-shirt he’s wearing lifts slightly to reveal a sliver of skin and the edge of a familiar scar. Steve physically forces himself to look away. Before Eddie retires to his bedroom, he slides am arm around Steve’s waist in a light hug, leans in close and says, “Drive safely. Okay, Big Boy?”

Steve’s still thinking about that, the soft pat on his hip as Eddie walked away and the fond, teasing tone of Eddie’s voice when he said it even as his car speeds along the dark, empty streets.

He’s so deep in thought that he completely misses the turn in for Family Video at first, but it’s just as well that he does because he spots a small, dark shape in the grass at the edge of the road when he stops to turn. He already has a hunch, but when he sees that it appears to be a men’s shoe, he quickly stops to scoop it up with a sigh and tosses it onto the back seat. Lucas can thank him later for rescuing him from the wrath of a mother scorned.

He hears his problem children before he sees them. They’re gathered in a group in the parking lot of Family Video and the boys are chatting animatedly. El and Max seem to be huddling together for warmth, using the boys' jackets to shield them from the bitter wind. Mike is sitting on the rain-soaked tarmac, grinning like he hasn’t thrown up recently, a stain on the front of his shirt. Will’s crouching next to him and watching him carefully, his hand on the boy’s shoulder. Dustin is standing with one arm over Lucas’ shoulder and the other gesturing wildly as he no doubt talks the other’s ears off about something or other.

The sight warms Steve’s heart as much as he would hate to admit it after being dragged from the comfort of his home and out into the cold to collect them. Even after all these years it’s still great to see them getting to just be young and experience normal young people things like drinking a little too much and getting stranded on a night out.

As soon as they spot Steve’s headlights, they make a beeline for the car. Dustin climbs into the passenger seat with a wide grin while the others chaotically push and shove each other as they approach the back door.

Lucas flings it open, unceremoniously. “Oh shit! My shoe! You came back to me!” He laughs. “Steve you’re a legend for this!”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re welcome, Cinderella,” Steve says. “Now get in before you let in the cold.”

Chaos ensues as the remaining five teens try to squeeze themselves into three seats. Complaints such as ‘ouch, Mike, get your big boney elbow out of my side’, ‘watch where you’re putting your foot, asshole’ and ‘I can’t move any further this way, you need to back up’ ring out for a good minute or two as they get situated, but then the car falls quiet apart from Eddie’s mixtape playing out of the speakers. Steve makes sure they’re all settled, and the doors are firmly shut and then they’re on their way.

“God, can we at least change the music?” Max complains. “All this noise is gonna give me a migraine.”

“My car my music,” Steve replies with a shrug, but he does turn the stereo down a little to spare Max a headache. He’s not a complete monster.

“You spend way too much time with Eddie,” Lucas points out. “You used to have good taste before the two of you became practically attached at the hip. You can’t tell me you actually like this.”

“I like it,” Mike argues. “I think Eddie’s had a good influence on Steve’s taste in music. Shame he hasn’t done the same for his fashion sense.” The others all snicker at the jab.

Steve shoots both boys a pointed look in the rearview mirror, briefly noticing that despite the insult he just served up, there’s something cautious in Mike’s expression as he watches Steve’s reaction closely.

“I think people who are too drunk to notice their shoe falling off their own foot and people who have drying vomit on their shirt don’t get to judge anyone,” he glares, “especially the one who’s willing to come rescue them from the cold and drive them home at ass o’clock in the morning.”

“He sure told you,” Max snorts.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you, Max.” Steve replies. “You better get some ice on that ankle before you go to bed because you’re going to regret the fuck out of that in the morning. I’m not having you hobbling around my workplace tomorrow, whining to me about it if you don’t listen. I mean it, Max.”

Max rolls her eyes and folds her arms across her chest. “Yes mother,” she replies sassily.

“I will stay over and make sure she does it,” Eleven assures him.

“Thank you, El,” Steve says gratefully. Then, because he’s feeling particularly evil after having his peaceful evening with Eddie ruined, he adds, “This is why you and Will are my favourites.”

He grins amid the drama and carnage that erupts as the others fight over him, only calling a stop to it when Dustin tries to launch himself over his seat to throttle Mike and Max purposely stamps on Lucas’ foot with her one non-swollen one. El and Will grin at each other deviously over the other’s heads.

Soon enough, the number of drunk teens in Steve’s car begins to dwindle. They thank him for the ride as they leave and Steve shouts after them to drink some water before they go to sleep. He’s so ready to get home and collapse in his bed. As Will climbs out, he glances at the clock and laments the fact he has work tomorrow.

His mind is elsewhere as he drives to and pulls up outside Mike’s place - the last of his kids to drop off. He’s so lost in thought that he doesn’t think much of the fact that Mike is making no move to get out of the car until he hears a loud sniffle from the back seat.

Steve stills for a moment at the heartbreaking sound, then immediately switches off the ignition, killing the music in the process, and whips around to face the younger man.

Mike’s face is buried in his hands, his shoulders trembling with sobs. Panic creeps up Steve’s spine and his heart lodges itself in his throat at the sight because Mike’s never like this around him, he’s never seen Mike breakdown this badly before, even through all the terrifying shit they’ve been through.

“Wheeler, hey,” he says softly. It feels weird to be using the careful voice he reserves for approaching vulnerable moments with the others on Mike when they’ve always interacted through a series of thorny, sarcastic digs at each other. But Mike is one of Steve’s kids, and Steve will be there for him however he is needed. “It’s okay, a lot of people get sick at parties. The stain will come out of your t-shirt.”

“It’s not about the vomit,” Mike says quietly, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he digs his fingers into his hair and tightens them.

Steve watches him in silence for a few seconds, trying to figure out the best course of action. “Okay, get in the front and talk to me, Wheeler,” he instructs. Instead of arguing Mike just nods with a sniff, a few tears streaming down his cheeks, and does as he’s told.

Okay, now Steve is really starting to worry. When has Mike, or any of the kids for that matter, ever listened to him without complaint the first time he asked them to do something?

Mike takes a seat next to Steve, closes the door and hunches his shoulders self-consciously, taking a deep shaking breath. “I thought if I got drunk enough then I could forget about it and just be normal,” he confesses, “but it didn’t make anything any better.”

“Forget about what, Mike?” Steve asks tentatively. Mike visibly hesitates, twirling his fingers in his lap. It doesn’t feel right seeing him make himself so small. “Hey, this is a no judgement zone, okay? You can tell me anything, absolutely anything and I promise it will not make me think badly of you. I know we have always bickered a lot, and I’ll probably deny this if you tell anyone I said it, but I care about you just as much as the others and I don’t like seeing you like this.”

“Thanks, Steve,” Mike mumbles with a weak smile. His breathing seems to have settled a little, but he still looks completely devastated. “I’m just freaking out because there’s something going on with me. I think it’s something... wrong... with me. Like, I’m broken, and I can’t fix it and I’ll never be normal,” he answers, his breaths stuttering as he cries.

Steve places a gentle hand on his shoulder and hands him the pack of emergency tissues he keeps in the glove compartment. He can’t stand seeing the boy like this, it makes him want to cry too.

“Well, first of all, none of us are normal. So, you have no reason to worry about that because you’re in good company,” Steve tells him with a reassuring smile. Then, just because he has to cover all bases, he asks, “But what do you mean, Mike? Is this related to Upside Down stuff?”

Mike flinches at the mention, but firmly shakes his head, and Steve feels relief wash over him. As much as it upsets him to see his kids struggle, he’s much more equipped to handle regular life stuff than the possibility of them being hurt or in danger at the hands of yet another supernatural entity.

“It’s not the Upside Down, it’s just me, I’m...” Mike sighs. “I’m having feelings for a guy. But I’ve liked girls all my life so I thought that can’t be right, but then I heard someone talking about bisexuality where you can like both. At first it helped me make sense of a lot and I felt kind of relieved because I know why I was feeling so torn for so long, but now I don’t have to choose. So that makes things a lot easier to accept.”

He pauses to take a deep, shaky breath. Steve trains his expression to one that he hopes shows he’s listening open mindedly because wow, this is a huge bombshell for Mike to have dropped on his lap at almost two in the morning on a Saturday. Part of him wishes that Robin was here and not over her girlfriend’s house for the night. She would know exactly what to say.

He’s not even sure why Mike decided he was the perfect person out of their group to go to with this. However, he wants to try his best not to destroy the trust Mike has put in him, so he stays quiet and keeps a supportive hand on his shoulder for now while his mind races to find a way to let him know he’s proud of him and this is completely okay.

“Then there was this story on the news about it becoming more of a thing and my dad started saying some really, really shitty things about it. He said it’s not natural and it’s dirty and ‘those people’ must be broken in the head to do something so disgusting. And I don’t know what to do if I’m broken in the head because I don’t think I can fix it, Steve. I look at this guy that I like and it feels like I’m home. He laughs at every one of my stupid jokes and smiles at me like he might feel the same and I feel like I’m going crazy. I think about wanting to hold his hand and kiss him all the time. I’ve tried and tried to ignore it and stop it and get drunk enough that I don’t care about any of this anymore, but I just... can’t.”

Steve feels like he’s been stabbed in the chest thinking about how long Mike must have been dealing with this on his own, thinking that he was wrong for having feelings for someone. He must have gotten to a point where he felt desperate for someone to understand if he was willing to come to Steve about it and let his guard down like this.

The kids may all be adults now, but they’re still Steve’s kids, he would still willingly throw himself in front of danger if it meant he could protect them. The idea of any of them feeling like they have to carry something this huge all by themselves kills Steve.

“Oh sweetie,” Steve whispers, a tear sliding down his cheek. He gathers Mike up in a tight hug and suddenly the right words just come to him. “It’s okay, there is absolutely nothing wrong with you, nothing that you need to try to change or ‘fix’. You’re just fine exactly as you are. I’m so proud of you for being brave enough to talk to me about this.”

Mike buries his head in Steve’s shoulder, his tears soaking into Steve’s shirt as he cries.

“Really?” he says, his voice slightly muffled. “You really think there’s nothing wrong with it? It’s alright if I like both? It doesn’t make me disgusting or wrong?”

Steve wants to murder Mike’s dad.

“Of course there’s nothing wrong with it,” he responds. He leans back to look Mike in the eyes. “Listen to me, your dad is full of shit, don’t listen to him because he’s wrong. There are a lot of people who say fucked up shit about anything different or anything they don’t understand. They’re cruel and spiteful and most of them are just trying to hurt people because they’re sad with their own lives. You love whoever you want to love, Mike. Don’t let anyone stop you from being happy.”

“Sometimes I feel so alone because everyone else is just getting on with their lives and having normal relationships and I’m here struggling with this shit.” Mike’s lower lip wobbles. He really is going to set Steve off again if he keeps this up.

“You are not alone, Mike.” Steve informs him. “We all love you and care about you a lot, I don’t think anything could ever change that. And you can always come and talk to me about anything, okay?”

Mike nods but still seems to have arguments left in him. “I know, but nobody in the group feels the way I do about both boys and girls. It’s just hard thinking I’m the only one,” he shrugs.

“You’re not, I do,” Steve blurts out without thinking about it. His brain short-circuits and then reboots itself.

Now that the words have left Steve’s mouth, the fact that they’re true hits him like a freight train. He sees flashes of moments in his past that suddenly make so much more sense. Steve had never questioned his interest in women, but there had always been this strange draw towards other men. Then there were lingering looks in changing rooms, banter that went a bit too far into flirting territory, and those times Steve found himself thinking a guy’s lips looked soft and nice, that their hands looked strong and smooth or that their chests looked broad and comfortable. The puzzle pieces were suddenly slotting together in Steve’s mind.

Oh.

So, Steve was now simultaneously supporting Mike through his sexuality crisis while speedrunning an epiphany about his own sexuality. That was fine, that was completely fine.

“You do?” Mike asks.

“Yeah,” Steve confirms, wide eyed. “I like boys and girls too. Do you think I’m wrong or disgusting or broken?”

“No! Of course not,” Mike argues, vehemently shaking his head. “I still think you’re cool. I mean you’re annoying most of the time, but that’s completely unrelated.”

“Well, there you go,” Steve says, as if his stomach is not currently flipping like he’s on a roller coaster. “Now you know one more person who’s like you, and if there’s nothing wrong with me being bisexual then there’s nothing wrong with you either. Feeling a bit better about it now?”

“Yeah,” Mike nods, watching Steve with something that looks like awe. “Yeah. Thank you, Steve. I really appreciate it.”

“Okay, good,” Steve smiles. “Now go hydrate, brush your teeth,” he says pointedly, nodding towards the shirt, “and get some sleep. We can talk about this more tomorrow at a reasonable time if that’s something you would want.”

Mike starts to climb out of the car but turns to fix Steve with a searching look.

“What? Is there something on my face?” Steve asks with a laugh.

“No, it’s just, I don’t know how I didn’t see it sooner,” Mike observes. “It makes a lot of sense now, the way you and Eddie look at each other.”

"The way me and Eddie look at each other?” Steve puzzles.

“Yeah, you know like you’re hopelessly in love, will go to the ends of the Earth for each other and you barely notice anyone else when the two of you are in a room together. It’s kind of gross actually.” Mike’s eyes widen in panic. “Not because you’re both guys, just because you’re both so mushy it’s sickening.”

“Right,” Steve replies, at a complete loss for words.

Mike shuts the passenger door and stumbles off toward his home with a, “Talk to you later, Steve,” like he didn’t just leave him feeling like his whole world view was crumbling and being rebuilt around him.

Thinking about it now, Steve realises Mike’s assessment of how he looks at Eddie is probably not that far from the truth, he definitely catches himself staring far too often for it to be casual. Had Eddie noticed? Did Eddie ever look at him like that? He should probably be a bit more concerned about the fact that he kind of hoped Eddie did.

In fact, as Steve started the car and pulled off, he registered that he didn’t feel as shocked about the whole revelation that he liked men as he would have thought he’d be. Instead, it just felt like things finally made sense, like he’s finally solved a riddle that’s been plaguing him for years.

“I’m bisexual,” he says aloud in the privacy of his car. There’s no anxiety, fear or panic. It just feels right. “Huh.”

Steve couldn’t wait to talk to Robin about this, she was going to flip.

He briefly wonders if he should tell Eddie, but it feels like a no brainer. It isn’t even a question really; Steve tells Eddie everything and this is no different. He already knows Eddie would be so sweet and understanding about it too. Eddie had always had this soft way of speaking to Steve, the same softness that Steve felt whenever Eddie reached out to him for physical contact. It was like he saw Steve as something extremely precious and important that deserved to be handled with care. No one had ever made Steve feel like that before.

Steve ponders over his relationship with Eddie in the wake of Mike’s leaving statement about their apparent undying love for each other. At first, it’s an amusing thought, but then he remembers the way Eddie had looked in his lap earlier, like he belonged there and there was nowhere he’d rather be. He thinks about how soft Eddie’s hair felt under his careful fingertips; how soft and full his lips had looked in the dim glow of the TV. Something shakes loose in Steve’s chest as he wonders how those lips would have felt pressed against his own.

I’m attracted to Eddie. Holy shit. The thought comes to him as easily as breathing.

So, he wanted to kiss Eddie, but what about feelings? Would he like to date him?

Picturing it in his head is an easy task because it’s not that hard to imagine how Eddie would be with someone he cares about. Steve immediately thinks of the supporting touch Eddie had pressed to his wrist earlier. When Steve had felt like he wanted to fly off the handle because his kids were out late in the cold, dark streets of Hawkins and highly intoxicated, Eddie had grounded him and checked that he was okay. Eddie always made Steve feel safe, calm and supported, like an anchor in a storm.

When Steve thinks about his future, the only thing he’s certain about is that Robin, Eddie and the kids will be in it. He wouldn’t want to imagine any other future for himself. There was a clear difference though. When he pictures his future with Robin, he pictures a future where he can one day walk her down the aisle and cry proud tears as she marries the girl of her dreams. When he pictures his future with the kids he pictures him celebrating all of their important milestones with them and supporting them through anything that troubles them.

When he pictures his future with Eddie, he pictures them moving into a house together, lying on the floor in a tangle of limbs and breathing in each other’s presence, boxes they’re too tired to unpack just yet stacked around them. He pictures them bickering over paint colours at the DIY store and laughing like idiots as they try to dodge each other’s paint attacks, getting more strokes of paint on each other than the wall but feeling so light and carefree. He pictures them lying next to each other and pouring their hearts out to each other under the cover of moonlight that spills into their shared room and paints Eddie’s features in a stunning, silver glow.

He pictures Eddie kissing him goodnight and whispering, ‘I love you’.

Steve’s heart soars at the thought of it, and his foot automatically presses down harder on the gas pedal, his urgency to get home growing.

Fuck getting plenty of rest before his shift, he needs to talk to Eddie. He has to tell him.

Somehow, Steve finds himself back in his apartment and standing outside Eddie’s bedroom door, his chest rising and falling with rapid breaths like he just ran a marathon. Parking and bounding up the stairs of their apartment complex two at a time because their shitty elevator is on the brink again, had both been a blur. But now he was here, and his hands were shaking with adrenaline, and he feel more awake and alive than he has in years.

For the first time since he started thinking about all of this, Steve hesitates. Eddie could be sleeping, maybe Steve would be better off talking to him in the morning. But then Eddie had told Steve to wake him if he needed anything, and Steve needs to know if Eddie feels the way he does, he can’t sleep without knowing. So, because Steve has always been willing to throw himself into the face of uncertainty for the sake of those he loves, he pushes onward, gently rapping his knuckles against the door.

“Come on in, Steve,” Eddie’s muffled voice answers, like he’d already known Steve was there debating whether to knock.

Steve swings the door open, and his breath catches in his throat. Eddie looks so soft and pretty, bathed in the light of his bedside lamp. He’s wearing pajama bottoms, but his torso is exposed, battle scars that match Steve’s on full display. There’s a book on his nightstand, one that he’d just put down to give Steve his undivided attention judging by the fact that it’s open and resting page down. His long hair spills down over his bare shoulders and his big, brown eyes are sleepy, but so happy, looking at Steve like he’s over the moon to see him in his doorway.

Oh. How could Steve have not seen this sooner?

He feels his eyes water dangerously at the earth shattering yet completely inevitable revelation that he is so utterly gone for this man.

Eddie sits up slightly, concern clouding his features. “Steve? What’s wrong?” he asks. “Are the kids all okay?”

The question sounds so domestic and is such a giveaway of how well Eddie understands how much the brats mean to Steve, that he can’t help the few tears that spill over his cheeks. “They’re fine, nothing’s wrong, I promise,” Steve answers, but even though only a few tears have slipped from his eyes, his voice still comes out choked up. “Sorry if I interrupted or anything, it’s just, you said I could come and wake you when I got back if I needed anything. And I really need to talk to you right now.”

“Don’t be sorry, I’m glad you took my offer. Come sit with me, sweetheart,” Eddie requests, his hand patting the spot next to him. Steve’s chest flutters at the term of endearment.

Steve shuts the door gently behind him and slowly approaches Eddie, crawling up over the bed to sit next to him. He ignores the images his mind supplies, of him crawling over the sheets towards a topless Eddie under very different circumstances, because this moment is something real and important. When he reaches the pillows, he adjusts himself to sit so that his body is completely turned towards Eddie. Eddie does the same so that they can properly face each other as they talk.

Eddie reaches out a hand to rest against Steve’s cheekbone, his thumb ever so gently rubbing the skin under Steve’s eye. It’s something he’s done before, when Steve has woken up shaken by nightmares where he wasn’t able to save people. The intimacy of the action now strikes him in a way that threatens to steal his breath away.

“Why were you crying, pretty boy?” Eddie asks tentatively.

“They weren’t bad tears, just... overwhelmed tears I guess?” Steve assures him. “I realised a few things tonight and it’s a lot to feel all this at once.”

“Then share it with me,” Eddie offers, like taking on Steve’s emotional burdens as his own is a simple task for him. The hand Eddie had placed on Steve’s cheek slides down to rest on his hand.

“Okay, well,” Steve takes a deep breath, starting with the least shocking thing first. “I realised that Mike Wheeler’s dad is an absolute piece of shit, for one.”

“That he is, Steve,” Eddie agrees. “That he is.”

The next one was a little more nerve wracking to announce, but he knew he could trust Eddie with it. “Then, after talking to one of the kids about sexualities,” he purposely leave’s their identity out, not wanting to out anyone by accident if they weren’t ready to be out, “I came to the realisation that I’m attracted to men as well as women, that I’m bisexual.”

“Steve,” Eddie gasps, his gorgeous brown eyes alight with awe and his fingers tightening around Steve’s. “I’m so glad you felt comfortable enough to tell me that, really. You have no idea how much it means to me that you trust me with this. And you one hundred percent, absolutely do not have to tell anyone, but I think it’s really brave that you did and I’m so proud of you.”

Despite his praise, Eddie seems conflicted for a second or two. He bites his lower lip and worries the skin between his teeth. Steve’s helpless to stop himself from zeroing in on it. If Eddie notices, he doesn’t point it out, but something determined settles over his features.

“Actually, I should probably tell you, I’m gay,” Eddie confesses. “So, you’re not alone in your attraction to men.”

Steve thinks this must be what winning the lottery feels like.

“That’s perfect,” he sighs in relief.

“It is?”

“Yeah, because I also realised that I’m completely in love with you and I have been for years now,” Steve admits.

The room falls silent.

Eddie looks stricken, like it’s him who’s about to cry now, and suddenly Steve’s heart plummets.

What if that had been the wrong thing to say? What if Steve had misinterpreted everything? What if Eddie didn’t want anything romantic with him? What if Steve had made him feel awkward, put him in a position where he now has to find a way to break Steve’s heart gently? Would they still stand a chance at being close after this or had Steve ruined it with his usual bullshit?

“I’m so s-”

“I have loved you from the moment I called you big boy while I was hotwiring that stupid van and you looked at me all confused and intrigued like you were trying to figure out how you felt about it,” Eddie confesses, his eyes fierce. “So, don’t you dare apologise for what you just said.”

Steve stares at him, stunned, the cogs in his head turning slowly, trying to sort through everything he’s just heard.

“Wait, that’s such a long time,” he points out unhelpfully. “Were you ever going to tell me?”

Eddie shrugs. He looks down at their still joined hands. “I figured you were probably straight and never going to feel that way about me. Thought we were probably going to lose touch after the whole Vecna nightmare was over, and I would only ever see you again in passing. But then you were coming to visit me and spending more and more time with me, and you started being clingy and touchy with me and I thought to myself, I was willing to wait forever to find out if there was even a small chance you felt the same. I thought, if the closeness and the friendly touches is all it ever is, then that’s enough for me.”

“Eddie,” Steve whispers. He can’t believe this man was willing to spend a lifetime by Steve’s side, not knowing if Steve would ever reciprocate his feelings. An ache sits deep within his body at the thought of Eddie feeling like this the entire time. “I’m sorry it took me so long,” it doesn’t feel like enough.

“That’s okay, baby,” Eddie replies, smiling at the blush that settles on Steve’s cheeks. “The wait was worth it.”

Steve finds his gaze snared by Eddie’s mouth, the pretty lips and the hypnotising way they move as he speaks. He can’t look away. He needs to show Eddie what all of this is doing to him, just how much he feels for him. He almost can’t contain it.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks.

“Yes, please,” Eddie nods. Steve will explore the way that makes his stomach swoop later. Now he has more pressing matters.

Steve’s hands come up to slide into Eddie’s beautiful hair and Eddie’s hands settle on Steves hips. They lean into each other slowly drawn to each other like opposite poles on a magnet but taking the time to drink in the sight of each other and tell themselves that yes, this is actually happening.

Their lips collide softly, and it feels like Steve’s found something he didn’t even realise he’d been missing. This, this is the feeling he’d been searching for his whole adult life. It felt like here with Eddie was the place he belonged. He deepened the kiss, softly moving his lips against Eddie’s and desperately trying to pour everything he felt for him, the meaning behind every single stollen glance over the past few years, into this one kiss. Eddie gasped against him and started to move with him. It felt like heaven to no longer have to wonder if Eddie’s lips were as soft and nice as they looked, Steve knew now that they were.

It was more than that though, Steve loved the feeling of having another body against his, alive, warm and real. Eddie was like that, but more. His hands mapped out the skin of Steve’s torso under his shirt like he was trying to commit each scar to memory. Steve shuddered at the sensation of those strong, expressive hands leaving a trail of fire under his skin wherever they touched. Before he knew it, he was on his back with Eddie leaning over him, their kiss never breaking but their tongues suddenly sliding against each other in a way that sent a bolt of lightning shooting up Steve’s spine and forced a sound out of him that he didn’t even know he could make.

“Holy shit, Steve,” Eddie pants, breaking away from Steve’s eager mouth, but planting small kisses and bites against his neck in a way that made his head spin and more involuntary sounds of pleasure escape him. “You need to stop making those noises,” Eddie warns. “You sound fucking incredible, but we both have work later this morning, and we are both way too tired to take this any further right now.”

“Noo Eddie, don’t be the voice of reason now,” Steve whines. “It was getting really, really good.”

“The universe is testing me, that has to be it,” Eddie grumbles to himself before facing Steve. “Come on, Stevie. If it helps you can stay here, and I’ll hold you while we sleep. That should be enough until we’re both more awake and have more free time.”

“You want to do this some more?” Steve questions hopefully.

Eddie plants one more firm kiss against Steve’s lips and several more over his neck and shoulders, drawing a small, carefree laugh out of his throat. They both climb under the covers and Eddie switches the lamp off, blanketing them both in darkness. Eddie presses his nose and lips against the nape of Steve’s neck and breathes in the scent of him with a satisfied hum. Gently, he slides his arm around Steve’s waist, tugging him back against his broad chest and holding him tightly like he refuses to let go now that they have each other.

“I want to do this and so much more, sweetheart” Eddie confirms. “For the rest of our lives if you’ll let me.”

Steve’s heart swells, he entwines his fingers with those on his waist and lifts Eddie’s hand to his lips to place tender kisses on his knuckles. “I love you so much,” he whispers.

“I love you too, beautiful,” Eddie replies. “So, so, much.”

When Steve finally drifts off to sleep, it’s with a heart that’s bursting with affection for the man behind him who’s all too easy to love and the band of teens he’d follow to the ends of the Earth and back again.

[amoristt]

the night falls like heaven

part 2 (x)

「 ✦nam-gyu/reader ✦ 」 tags: sfw // hurt/comfort, pining, nam-gyu's pov, lots of angst in an edgy way, very light drxg mentions,

a/n: this'll be a 2 part mini series! so excited to get this started ugh tysm to anon who requested this word count: 9.2k | songs i listened to (x) (x) original request (x)

・❥・Nam-gyu was not a man of many regrets. 

If he had to count, he could fit them all on one hand. Mostly from when he was a teen. Younger and somehow even more impulsive than he was now, drinking through money like water and getting into fights he’d never remember. The worst of them all, however, was one he hadn’t thought would really eat at him. It was unlike himself to get hung up over a girl of all things, but good lord, he was hanging. Strings and all, like a marionette, bleeding and sore at the joints. 

Tough to swallow couldn’t even compare to the feeling of when that specific regret suddenly pops up in the same room after years of abandon. If he hadn’t been so down bad, the sight of you would have only ruffled up his feathers enough to remind him of a better time, but in God’s honest eyes, those feathers of his had been ruffled since the dawn of the very instant you left. The door hadn’t even had a chance to hit you on your way out, nothing but dust and tears in your wake. He was stuck fast, left to his own devices, bouncing between wondering why he let it go so bad and whilst also begging God himself to make you stop being such a bitch. 

But the worst part, the worst part is that even now you still carry this aura of over it all around you. Self-respect colliding with the want to be loved was never an easy tango to dance, all steps just pulling and pushing and trying to snuff out useless feelings and red hot passion. But you twirled until he did what he did best and nudged you to the brink of your breaking point. All that sweet, sweet adoration drained from your face and he saw it- dignity. He saw it on you on your  way out of his apartment, storming past him with biting tears in your eyes. And now, years later, he gets to see it again from across the room.

You’re sitting on a high, high bunk you’ve claimed as yours, people watching. Other than the initial moment you’d seen him in the bubble of people, you haven't bothered sparing him a second glance. It was a beautiful moment- your eyes widening, stopped dead in your tracks before you were on the move all over again. He’s sneaking glances through the corners of his eyes, watching you over his shoulder, and you can’t even give him another second of your day. And the thing that really bothers him is that he knows he can’t stop. 

Out of everyone in this room, your distant presence is a fiery beacon in the darkness and he’s an angry, bitter moth. It’s in his very nature to circle and flutter one step behind, seeking the light, burning at its touch. Singed wings and an endless sneer. If only he could just stop touching the heat, he would surely move on. But he just can’t, and the fact that you can pisses him off so much it makes him lose his breath at times. 

He wished, with the very core of his entire being, that you were weaker. Or, at least, stupider. Maybe then you would have lived up to his expectations and showed up to his door, or at his club, teary eyed and lonely without his superior presence around. He could see it behind his eyes at night, the waver in your voice when you’d beg him to come back into your arms, and more importantly, back into your bed. 

I told you so, he’d say, with that shit eating grin and a hand on your waist guiding you out from the cold.

A forlorn, guideless sheep in need of your shepherd. He could be that for you. If only the word boyfriend didn’t make him shudder with every last fiber of his being. If only that specific little thing wasn’t your breaking point. Your face haunted him- that halo around your irises fading into something far away and charred when he’d had the nerve to actually laugh at you for it. You were grabbing your things and leaving, and he sat watching every moment in clips. It wasn’t anything, back then. You were just mad, in a few days you’d be right as rain climbing into his lap and peppering kisses along his throat. You’d be back, he was sure of it. 

But then the days turned into weeks. And then, to his distaste, those weeks faded into months of silence. He started to catch himself looking for you in crowds, visiting places you’d frequented at just to linger around like an awkward ghost in case he spotted you through the shifting crowds. But you were gone- vanished.

Fine. You’ll never see me again, asshole. 

Those words had been etched into the very walls of his cranium since they’d left your lips in a scathing hiss. Such nasty words, but they shook with every consonant. 

Among your pride was a healthy blend of honesty. You had been true to your word- he really did never see you again. Wiped your slate spotless of anything Nam-gyu.

And it drove him fucking crazy. It made him sick to his stomach in a way he did not think was possible. It was out of control- he couldn’t stop thinking about you, you, you. He missed you more than he didn’t, and he was angrier at himself than he’d like to admit. So instead of admitting, he funnels all that anger into the very shape of you. Drags in the idea of you, his memories of you and shoves them down, down, down, until he truly did think he hated you, after all. 

Until he’s clenching his fist so tight he’s drawing blood and telling himself he’s better off now, without some whining bitch in his ear begging him to stick that boyfriend pin into the thinness of his skin. Thinks that without you hanging on his arm all the damn time, he could really go out and have some fun. He thinks, and he thinks and he thinks until he’s thought too much and suddenly he loves you again and he misses you so bad it’s crushing him under the sheer weight of your absence. 

So, Nam-gyu does what Nam-gyu does best once again, and he drowns himself out with the bitter taste of drugs on his tongue and the sear of alcohol in his blood. 

It all stops.

For a time, anyway. 

You always found ways to seep back into his mind one way or another. Songs that would only make it a second in before he was mashing the skip button. A tv show you’d watched together surviving on the screen roughly a whole minute before it’s switched off. Sometimes it was when he saw something he knew you’d like- a shitty video or meme. Other times you came to him in whispers while he laid out on his own living room floor, out of his mind watching the blank ceiling above him twist and writhe under his spotty vision with a needle poking out of his arm. 

But, most times… Most times you would slither your way to the forefront of his mind just before bed. The touch of you, the smell of you. 

The shape of you underneath him. Hands and quiet breaths. He could still hear the noises you made ringing in his ears, stored away in his memories just to taunt him when he was indisputably alone. Soft skin, even softer thighs. Always so warm, and so wet. So willing. You would come to him while he curled over himself in bed, drunk on porn and memories. 

And afterwards, when Nam-gyu had finished, he would throw his head back onto his pillow and ignore the way it felt like there was a lump in his throat. And that would piss him off even more, because fuck, you should be there with him. Laying by his side running your hands through his hair until he’s falling asleep balancing on the fine line of afterglow and dozing off. 

But you aren’t. You’re doing fuck all with who knows in places he’s never been to, places you probably begged him to go but he couldn’t even remember the name of. You hadn’t answered a single one of his texts, you hadn’t picked up a single call and everytime he hears the first couple seconds of your stupid voicemail he wants to crush his phone in his hands. Vexation was a slippery slope into the fires of fury- rage was like a parasite under his skin, eating away at what little rational thinking he had. 

Voicemail after voicemail. Text after ignored text. Anger was the hardest stage- rage grew horns on the crown of his head and it turned him into something he couldn’t recognize. Or, something he refused to recognize- desperate and heartsick. 

It was supposed to be you. Not him. 

He filled the endless gaps of you with drugs often and women when he could. For a short time it would work and he would wonder why he ever let someone else get him so, so low. But then the drugs would wear off. The random woman in his room that he never bothered to learn the name of would grab her clothes and saunter out the door. He stopped letting them stay the night. He could never sleep, stared at the ceiling until 5am wondering why he still felt like shit. He would be right back where he started, sitting on the couch, staring at the door watching you leave over and over again.  

You stopped updating your socials, quit hanging out with the few people that bounced between his and your crowd, successfully scrubbed him of your life entirely. After a year, he resorted to asking around if anyone had seen you. The answer, as always, was a firm no. It was a corrosive feeling, a constant churn and thrum within the cage of his ribs. It made him even more unrecognizable to himself. Made him invite women into his lap just to shove them away when they didn’t smell like you, or sound like you. Or laugh like you.

It had been so, so perfect before. It was fun, and it was hot all the time, and sex with you felt like heaven was a place on earth. Why couldn’t you see that? Why did you have to go and ruin it with your words and pleading eyes? Nam-gyu doesn’t roll like that. You knew that. He’s a free spirit, he tells himself. No chains, no labels. No holding him down. Even if it was at the feet of this gorgeous, gorgeous body and a honey sweet voice that just always seemed to know what to say. Beautiful eyes that always watched, a smile so saccharine, whispering words against his ear so dirty it made him shiver just to think about. 

The world was too vast to be held down. 

But, truth be told, he was held down. 

He is held down. 

When you walked out of his apartment those years ago, he never left that spot, chewing his nails and anxiously spinning the ring on his finger, watching you go. He started seeing it behind his eyes. Replays it, changes the course, wonders where he’d be right now if he’d just said something different. 

Finding you at the games was like divine intervention. It had to be. Some higher power had crossed his path and plopped you right in front of him. With rolling eyes and a deadpan stare at anything except for him, sure but you were there and you weren't going anywhere anytime soon. God had heard his drug induced prayers of stupor. 

Now it was all about waiting. Waiting for the right moment to dive in and recapture you within him and he’d be right back to drinking you in at every chance he had. He’d do it differently this time, do it right so you’d cling to him and wonder why you ever wanted to leave at all. Make you wonder why you were so stupid to have been so stubborn when everything you could ever need was in the palm of your hand. He was sure of it. That strong, bullheaded expression would blitz is something vulnerable in his hands. A lurch of excitement riveted under his skin among the nerves. 

For now, he waits, and watches. Your presence could never go unnoticed by his dark eyes. 

It’s unfortunate for him that Thanos takes a notice to you, too. It’s hard not to, really, when every time he follows Nam-gyu’s locked line of sight it always leads back to you- this little sweet thing perched up at the peak of the bunks alongside the back, watching the room with this bored stare between mundane yapping with other players. 

“Someone you know?” Thanos’s voice had this subtle drip to it, this underlining excitement that Nam-gyu picks up on almost instantly. His expression stays cool, mostly uninterested despite the way he can’t seem to pry his eyes away from you even as he answers.

“Yeah.”

“Who is she?”

And then he’s stuck. Because his mouth opens for a split second to say, my ex, but he can’t quite say that, now can he? But he also can’t say an old friend either, because you simply weren’t. What you two had was something else entirely- a new plane he struggled to navigate, lovely when things were good, a hellscape when they weren't. The lines were always so blurred, fuzzy with sex and warm laughter.

He decides on something mostly true. “Someone I used to hang out with.”

“Girlfriend?” Thanos’s brow raises with his chirp, leaning forward with clear interest. 

“No.” It comes out quick- too quick, and too heavy. Tinged venom with more baggage than even he could handle at times. Thanos catches it on impact and whistles. 

“I see. So you won’t care if I go chat her up? Hm?” 

“Don’t bother. She’s not like that.” Nam-gyu’s scoffs before he can stop himself, this unsettling seed of jealousy planting itself in his chest. 

“Hm… I guess we’ll see, huh?”

You’re dismounting from your bed and climbing onto the stairs when Thanos jumps to his feet, and Nam-gyu can already feel that itchy panic starting to blotch away at his skin. His hands, his cheeks. That seed takes its place within him bearing vicious roots. 

“Man, don’t bother,” He’s touching at Thanos’s sleeve, his shoulder, anywhere he can to try and gather his friend’s attention. “She can be kind of a bi-”

All it takes is a swat to Nam-gyu’s chest to stop him dead in his tracks, words dying his throat. Shut down, watching his friend take quick steps to you, Nam-gyu following close behind to witness.  If only he could be firmer, never demanding, always suggesting. Always rolling over and showing his soft underbelly at Thanos’s whim. Instead, he lets his lips press into a tight line and let���s it all happen right before him. 

You’re on the bottom step and taking a seat, and you see the rapper approaching before he gets a word in, but your eyes skip over him entirely and settle onto Nam-gyu’s. Distress is building in his muscles, but he’s making damn sure to keep himself in check. 

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing all alone? You want a friend?”

Up closer now, sharing your space, he sees all the things he’d been missing so deeply throughout the years. You still look just as he remembered- still bearing this expression of bemused coolness, still having these all seeing eyes that seemed to cut right through him. 

“A friend?” you hum, and your voice threatens to pull him in like gravity. “You wanna be my friend?”

If jealousy could sprout through his skin, it’d be an ugly beast of horns and claws. But it can’t, so instead, it takes shape in the way Nam-gyu’s eyes are flicking between yours and the rappers, hands wrapped up in his sleeves. 

“Stick with me, yeah? I promise to keep you safe. My number one priority.” And Thanos is patting his chest, flashing those painted nails. Makes Nam-gyu’s chest tighten, his stomach growing sicker by the second. 

Damn, you can see it, too. There’s no denying the way he’s cringing behind that distant smirk, and he doesn’t think to hide the way he’s twisting his rings on his fingers. When you click your tongue, he knows what's coming. 

“Stick with you, hm… Sorry, but I try to work alone. Partner’s tend to, how do I say…” Those eyes of your slice through him all over again, honing into him when you finish your sentence. “Disappoint me.”

Fuck. Disappointment. Oh god, how that sears into Nam-gyu’s skin. The way you look the rapper up and down, visually sizing him up, would make his heart leap into his throat if he were under that same scrutiny. He never understood how you could always be this intense with such a sweet, sweet face. Kindness was certainly a luxury and he missed it, that never ending fire that kept him warm.

“I can change that for you,” Thanos sings.  “I’m a legend here for a reason.”

“Legend? I’ve never heard of you.” Your brows raise in amusement. 

“You will. Thanos.” He puffs his chest out and nods, a half cocked grin playing over his lips. “Guy’s like me, we don’t disappoint.”

The man actually finds the nerve to reach down and pluck your hand, bringing his knuckles to his lips. Nam-gyu feels red hot scorching through his face but he’s locked in place, watching it like a car crash. Relieved when you yank your hand free and shove it into your jacket’s pocket. It’s the only good thing out of this entire interaction, he finds, especially so when Thanos’s smirk falters into a tight surprised line. 

“Don’t go and do all that. Guy’s like you will always disappoint me.” You lean back against the wall of the step, vexation evident over your features. “How about you talk to me again after the next game, yeah? Maybe I’ll feel different. Thanos.”

You always were so good at slamming the door in people's faces, always brought Nam-gyu joy to witness you shut down the advances of some poor loser trying to gain your affections. Thanos knows he’s been hung out in the cold, too. Barking up the wrong tree in the wrong neighborhood in the wrong country. So, he takes a loose step backwards and shrugs. 

“Your loss.” He sighs, and Nam-gyu follows him all the way back to his bunk in brooding silence. 

Wringing his fingers, he can’t help himself when casts a glance over his shoulder to find you one last time before you’re obscured behind metal frames and moving bodies. When he does, he feels a rush of heat in his cheeks when you’re already stuck fast staring right back, watching him go. He’s silent when he sits down at his little corner of the dormitory, silent when Gyeong-su is harping praises at Thanos. Silent, even, when Thanos says he’s determined to bring you to his side of the map. 

However, he noticeably tenses when Thanos mutters, “What a babe, huh? I should go visit her after lights out.”

Almost immediately there’s hands on his shoulders, pushing and nudging him, demanding his attention. The deepest of sighs leaves the rapper, ducking his head to find Nam-gyu’s eyeline. 

“Come on, man. Don’t be pissed, it’s in my nature, boy. Be honest. You into her?”

“Me and her…” Nam-gyu swallows. “We used to mess around.”

“Lucky you.” Thanos’s is shoving Nam-gyu’s shoulders again. “You cut her lose?”

No, she cut me loose. But Nam-gyu can’t bring himself to say that, the words lost and barred at the tip of his tongue. In the silence, Thanos takes it as confirmation. 

“That’s so cold. If I had her, I’d never let her out of my sight. Sheesh.”

Nam-gyu can’t even form words at all, anymore, irritation and envy wrapping tendrils around his throat and snuffing him out. Your earlier words spin through his brain like a carousel- come find me after the next game. Were you being serious? Were you just saying that to mess with him? He knows you- he knows your tone better than he even realizes, but he suddenly can’t decipher what’s honesty and what isn’t anymore. Jealousy blinds him, thick lenses leading him in all sorts of binds. 

He should have talked to you. He should have made the first move and made sure the first time he was breathing your air was alone. Now he’s anxious, he’s resentful, and he’s humiliated for some reason he can’t quite place. It doesn't help when he can’t resist the urge to look at you one last time, just one for the road, and you’re chatting idly with a man lounging on the other side of the steps you’re currently sitting on. There’s a five foot gap between your bodies but Nam-gyu doesn’t care- the anger that rips through him is blind, you may as well have been fucking the man right in front of him. 

It’s all he can see, tunnel vision encompassing him all the way until the moment lines start to form for lunch. Stewing in his jealousy, a bitter taste blooming over his tongue, he doesn’t jump in line because he’s got an appetite, but simply because you were rather eager to fill your belly. He tails you, matches every step and still has to jump out in front of a random player from taking the spot directly behind you. 

You notice him with a fleeting look tossed over your shoulder, eyes darting from the corners of your eyes and then forward, still as a statue. Desperate to not interact. 

Nam-gyu can’t help himself.

“You into Thanos?”

You audibly laugh at him, and the sound makes him shred the inside of his cheek.

“Maybe. What’s it to you?”

Everything. It’s everything to me. 

You look up at him over your shoulder, watching him through your thick lashes with scorn written all over those beautiful irises. There’s a flash image of you- a memory, tangled between the bedsheets, looking up at him with those gorgeous eyes and tear stained cheeks with his hand wrapped around your throat. It’s quick but it hits him like a sucker punch right to the gut. He sucks in a sharp breath. He wants to touch you- he almost does, but the line moves forward a beat and you’re moving with it away from his hesitating fingers. 

“I’m just asking.” He’s trying to be coy, but you can see right through him. 

“You worried, Nam-gyu?” 

That hits him like a sucker punch too. He’d forgotten how his name sounded on your tongue, how it rolled off so perfect and pretty even when you were pissed at him. Sometimes specifically when you were pissed at him, this bubbling anticipation running through him in waves, your passion always the spark lighting the fire in his belly. 

“I’m not worried.”

“You are.” Clocked him, again. Peered into the windows of him and saw that angry ocean of spite and regret behind his eyes. “I know you are. I can see it on you.”

“Not worried.” Nam-gyu shrugs, but he can’t meet your eyes anymore. 

Another sigh ghosts from your lips, but it’s quieter, defeated, almost. 

“I’m not interested in your friend. I’m not interested in anyone.”

And then, he says it. Quietly, as if he doesn’t want you to truly hear.

“...You seemed interested.”

“So you are worried.” You’re crossing your arms and he stares down into your hair, shoving his hands into his pockets. “What if I was? You clearly had nothing to say about it. You were right there- you didn’t tell him we had history? Or did I mean that little to you?”

You’re mad. Holy shit, you’re still so mad at him. But then his brain scrambles to tell him the good side of things- anger is not indifference. So in some ways, maybe more than others, he’s still in that little dome of yours ratting around amongst your thoughts. Means that if he does this right, it would mean something to you to be better this time. 

His lips press into a tight line. He should have talked to you, and now it’s biting him in the ass. It seemed like everything always bit him in the end. And he always let it happen, watched and never interfered. You drive the nail you’d plunged into him even deeper when you throw his words, from all those years ago, right back in his face. That last thing he had said to you before you, or the idea of you, had become a black hole.

“You know what, Nam-gyu? What was it you had said? Oh- uh, why don’t you focus on yourself and I’ll focus on me, yeah?”

It stings. It stings so bad that he physically recoils from the sound of his voice on your tongue, words spilling that just don’t seem right coming from you. Bitter resentment rises in his throat, this reflexive coping mechanism to bite back overtaking his senses. He wants to say I shouldn’t have said that. He wants to say, hear me out. But what ends up leaving him is just as ugly as the rest of his feelings. 

“Jesus. You’re still a bitch.”

The very instance those words tumble from him, he’s already regretting it with every fiber of his being. Even more so when you pluck your bento box from the guard and spin on your heels to glare absolute daggers into the very pits of his soul.

“Get over yourself. I’m glad we had this talk, it was very refreshing.”

This time he does jump to stop you, shaking his head and squeezing his eyes shut. “Just listen-”

“No.” 

He doesn’t hide the way he watches you scamper off to your little ledge, hopping up onto your bed and enjoying your vantage point above all else, focusing on your meal. The man you’d been chatting with earlier is in the bed next to yours and that’s just fucking great. The guard has to pry his stare off of you, and a bento box is practically shoved into his chest, urging him out of line. 

Nam-gyu hates the stone anchoring in his guts. Almost as much as he hates how his appetite never quite returned. All food tasted the same when you left, nothing compared to what you’d used to make him. 

The bento box was no different. 

That night, sleep avoided him. There was something keeping him awake- buzzing under his skin no matter how many times he’d rolled over and shifted himself into a new position. Of course he knew what it was- it never really left him, after all. The fact of knowing you were across the room, all alone in your bed, was this incessant knock in the back of his skull tapping him back into reality whenever he found himself comfortable enough to doze off. His mind was stuck on you, as always, wondering what you looked like right now. 

Did you sleep the same as before? Laying on your side, hair messed over the sides of your face and splayed over the pillow, those heavy lashes of yours kissing along the bone of your cheeks. He always told himself that it was you who was attached, that he was some great being and you simply touched the stars through him. How wrong he had been to think that, when the entire time he’d fit so perfectly against you, he a piece to your puzzle. 

How wrong he had been, because when he’s staring up idly at the ceiling, he thinks of the better days in his life. Always, always, it was you. Thinking of you sitting pretty in his passenger seat, watching out the window as the world blurred by in rushes. The wind blowing through your hair, your necklace catching the glint of the sun. You’d feel his eyes on you and you'd turn and smile at him so darling, so lovely, that he thought it could heal. Remembering when you’d walk into a room, shining like a beacon just for him. You’d find his lap, find his hair, find his lips against your own and you’d cry his name like a prayer. 

He was an idiot to have thought he was the something in the nothing- it was you. 

Even when he finally drifted off into sleep were you still infecting the very membrane of his mind. In his dreams, you were just as warm as you had always been. Bated breaths, hanging onto every word that left his lips, fingers that longed to touch and stroke and feel. His heart slowed to a peaceful beat, and his body curled into his pillow and blanket, trying to recreate the shape of you in his arms. For a time that evening, it worked. 

But then he woke up, and Thanos was leaning over his bed asking him if he was dead, and all those wonderful moments he’d relived were gone in a rush of bright lights and endless chatter bouncing off the walls of the dormitory. Like an addiction, the first thing he thought of when he sat up, was you. Thought about you all the way through the winding staircases and into a giant room with rainbow’s painted over the hard floor. So lost in thought that he almost misses it when the speaker starts instructing them- a 5 player minigame race. 

Teams of five. Okay, he could do that. Easy. Gyeong-su, him, Thanos. That was already three. 

It’s natural instinct when he starts to search for you in the bubble of people, his fourth member, even though he’s more than sure you’re all too excited to send him packing. The way you had looked at him at dinner the day before, he wasn’t sure if you’d even entertain a conversation with him at all, let alone join their team. But this is beyond an argument- beyond him trying and failing to lull you in, this is life and death. 

“Hey, there’s your girl again.” Thanos spots you first. He follows Thanos’s line of sight and sure enough, there you are, standing with your hands shoved into your pockets with this far away expression he can’t quite read. 

His girl. It would make him shiver, if he wasn’t already on the brink of tweaking. 

“Let’s go see if she’s changed her mind.” 

Thanos is running his hands through his hair and popping the collar of his tracksuit, a particular bounce to his step when he bounds right for you. Just as the first time, always on the lookout for yourself, you spot him coming before he gets to you. Already you’re annoyed.

By the time Nam-gyu slithers up beside him, you’re already turning Thanos’s first wave of advancements down, a snark to your tone and a glint in your eyes. 

“I’m good, thanks though.”

Thanos blinks, looks left and then right. “You’re good? I don’t see a team?”

“I’ll find one.”

“You got one right here,” He pats his chest again, before he slings his arm over Nam-gyu’s shoulder haphazardly. “Come on. You’ll be safe.”

The intensity in which you roll your eyes is fierce- an expression Nam-gyu really had only thought he could draw out of you. To make matters worse for his friend, you don’t even bother with saying no again. Instead you merely wave a dismissive hand and turn on your heels, meandering into the crowd. 

“You were right, Nam-su.” Thanos’s face drops and he unwinds his arm from Nam-gyu’s shoulder. “Not getting anywhere with that one.”

Nam-gyu is so focused watching you, that all he murmurs is, “It’s Nam-gyu.”

“Yeah. Nam-su, Nam-gyu. Look over there.” He has to force himself to look away, following Thanos’s point in the other direction you’d gone. A girl with short black hair stands off to the side, eyes traveling and sizing up all her potential team mates. Thanos pops his collar again, a hound dog chasing a brand new scent. “Let’s go see what she’s up to.”

For the first time, Nam-gyu doesn’t follow him. He says, you go, you go, and lets Thanos wind himself up all on his own before watching him go. He’s much more concerned with you and your team, this sense of anxiety starting to bud in his gut. 

He finds you like a moth to flame. Your shoulders slump at the sight of him, tired and irked. 

“Not this again.” You groan. “What, do you think you’re gonna come sweeten me up and I’ll say yes? I’m not playing on your damn team.”

Nam-gyu shakes his head and steps in front of you when you try to turn away again. His nerves are on the rise, and so is his temper. You draw it out of him like nothing else, he can’t stop himself. 

“Why not?” He asks, looking down at you with furrowed brows. You cross your arms, barring yourself from him. 

“Because I’m not.”

“This is no time to be stubborn. You don’t know what the next game is. You might need guys on your team.”

“I plan on it. There’s other men here other than you and whatever the hell his name is.”

Other men. Nam-gyu’s mouth dries up, his fingers already wringing in his sleeves. His jaw tenses with his temper, teeth grinding. 

You didn’t need other men, not when he would do anything under the sun to keep you safe. Anyone else may just let you die. Can’t you see that? 

“Why are you being-... Being like-...” He stops himself. Holy shit, his brain actually fires off the warning shot and he stops dead in his tracks staring at you in bewilderment. You adopt this expectant glare, a spiteful uptick to your lips that darkens your eyes. 

“Say it.” You sneer. “Go ahead, say it. I’m being a bitch, right?”

The word fights against his lips to get out. You’re waiting for it, at the edge of your seat, fully ready to take it in and chew it up and spit it out right back at him. But he bites it back and he swallows it down into his chest because this means something to him. Because it might mean something to you. 

“Being like this.” He stammers. “I’m trying to keep you alive.”

Your eyes widen just a fraction. “Keep me alive?”

“Can you really trust anyone here? You know me.”

“I do know you.” A flash of something provoked and somber rivets within your eyes. Anger mounting, your heart colliding with your brain in real time right before him. “That’s exactly why I won’t be on your side.”

If he’d had his foot in the door before, you were properly shoving it back outside. He doesn't know what to do, so he does the first thing he can think of as a creature of impulse, and unfortunately when it came to you that meant he was all hands. 

“Wait-” He catches you just as you’re turning away, tries to bulldoze over your defiance and smooth out all the harsh edges of your protests with the broad flats of his palms. Fingers clutching your tracksuit at your shoulders and then he’s realizing that he’s touching you for the first time in years. Your skin from underneath your jacket is just as warm he remembers, your eyes are just as doe-like at his touch too. Stubborn and ornery but overflowing with passion and static energy that settled into his bones. He needs it, he needs it. The obsession of you hits him in waves of yearn. 

He needs you more than air, he thinks. 

“Get your hands off of me, right now.” But you aren’t tearing him away- so maybe that’s progress. 

“Come on.” He ducks his head, shoulders slumping, and it physically hurts him to feel this desperate. “Stay with me.”

Oh, you don’t like those words one bit. They hit your eardrums and your eyes narrow in slits, and then yeah, you’re reaching up and catching his wrists in his iron grip before ripping his paws off your jacket. It takes a long moment for you to speak, but when you do, he swears he can hear the devil amidst the heartache. 

“You know that I can’t stay with you. Never again.”

His hands twitch to touch you again- anything to keep you there for a moment longer. 

“Come on.” 

Sadness like pits swirl in your eyes, drags your lips into a frown. “You gotta’ stop Nam-gyu. I can’t do it.”

An awful, awful mass grows in his stomach when you turn your back on him. Gets bigger with every inch you build between you and him, threatens to take over entirely and swallow him whole right in the middle of that room. If it did, and he was to be gulped up by the void, perhaps he wouldn't have to feel like this any longer. And he wouldn’t have to watch you disappear behind all the moving bodies. 

He was weaker than he was three years ago. You made him weaker. Back then, if you’d been so sure of yourself he found it rather easy to deter you. A beastly way about him when he would have just ripped you by the hand and brought you over to his team and made you sit the hell down and just stay with him. Something possessive, something under his skin at the thought of you sharing the same air as anyone other than him. You used to be so malleable in his hands- but he knows, now more than ever, that that was truly never the case. You let yourself be pliable. You let yourself fall to him. He could never, not even now, make you do anything. Not really. 

That’s the part that burns him to the peaks of his soul. That strength about you. You’re so much stronger than him, with an energy iron so it’s like running headfirst into a wall when you’d no longer graced him with your softness. Such a double edged sword, that will of yours. That attitude and the passion made him feel alive. Cold and disposed after you’d properly slammed the gate right in his face. No leverage, no space for him in your heart any longer. 

It’s cold, Nam-gyu finds. Lonely without you. 

And then Thanos goes and invites some random girl with a poor attitude (that isn’t yours) and an even weaker buddy. He tries to tell him- remind his friend of the potential disadvantage but like always all it took was a dismissive wave to get him to screw his lips shut. Rolled over, tongue caught in his throat, weakened. 

He spends a majority of his time waiting for his teams turn arguing with Se-mi and tossing gazes over his shoulder to keep a very keen eye on you, only to find a sneer growing on his features after seeing you chatting with the same player as earlier, the man with the bed next to yours. Laughter and smiles roll from your lips as natural as breathing air, and he’s nudging you with his arm and you’re letting him with this expression of pure amusement. 

That should be him. 

That ugly face of betrayal peeks through the cracks all over again, with guilt and anger and regret following in tow close behind. Sitting on his shoulders like little devils, spinning and racing through his body in waves. If you saw his face- you’d never suspect it, but his hands shake in his lap. His jaw tenses so tightly his teeth could burst into powder. Squared shoulders and an endless drag to his lips. Something in the sight of you enjoying that guys presence is reminding him of all these shitty feelings he’d been faced with when you two were together- well, no, not together, he remembers- and then he’s even angrier. Angry at you, angry at that random ass player you were talking up, angry at himself for letting it get here in the first place. 

Thanos pops open his necklace beside him and draws a fun little pill from its contents, and Nam-gyu makes it a mission to get his hands on one of those sweet little pick-me-ups. The pill is bitter on his tongue but he swallows it down in delight. And it works, too, because the moment the colors start to glow and fuse together and all sounds become this echoing fishbowl of noises, you’re vacated from the corners of his fuzzy mind. For a time, he’s at peace all over again, lost in the blurry joy. 

By the time he comes down, he’s already back in the dormitory. 

Though it takes a moment for him to realize it, he’s taking inventory of all the surviving players. One by one, watching them fill the room and find their creaky beds or their little groups. Most were distraught, though some were particularly perturbed. It takes a couple teams before he understands that what he’s really looking for, naturally, is you. He’s always searching for you, even when he knew you weren’t searching for him back. 

That’s the change, and it dawns on him like a rapture. He’d never had to care before- you were always this constant in his life, something that would always bounce right back if he tossed you aside. He didn’t give a damn if it upset you, he didn’t give a damn if it ate away at you like termites through wood. But now he does, and he gives so many damn’s they’re driving him crazy. 

Any moment spent sober and lucid were moments entirely taken up by you.

Any moment now you’ll come strutting through those doors, head held high and gunning it to make sure Nam-gyu knew exactly how much you didn’t need him. 

But then ten teams turn into twenty, and twenty five into thirty. 

“How many teams were there?” Nam-gyu asks with a voice steadier than even he expected. Thanos doesn’t need to question anything, watching the doorway all the same. 

“Fifty-six.” Se-mi hums from her spot, leaning back against the steps. 

Thirty eventually turns to fifty. 

Too much time has passed, and you’ve still yet to pop out through that doorway. He double checks those who’d already shown their faces, hoping to find you through the cracks of them, but you’re simply not there. There’s a shovel digging pits and moats into his stomach. Another wave of players trickles in and he scans them all over the same, only to feel that hollowness inside him grow once more. They saunter to their beds, to their little groups, taking up space and taking up air that should belong to you. 

Where the hell were you?

“Only two teams left,” Thanos hums. “Where’s that girl of yours?”

Nam-gyu can’t force himself to answer this time around. So, instead, he presses his nails between his teeth and nervously shifts his weight from left to right. Though he shrugs, the anxiety within him was palpable, all lines and tension that he tried to bury with nonchalance. But it wasn’t working, and felt like he was being ripped apart from the inside out.

Mind racing, thoughts circling him like birds over fresh kill. The final team walks through the doorway, slow as zombies, shifty eyed and hurriedly rushing to their beds. His eyes sit on the door, waiting, waiting. 

No one comes through. 

His shoulders fall limp. 

You didn’t make it. 

“That’s a shame.” Se-mi sighs, the sound swimming in Nam-gyu’s ears. 

Loss, real loss was a foreign feeling within his chest. He’d seen it described in the movies, in songs, this soul eating all consuming weight that blanketed over bodies and crushed, but nothing could have ever prepared for the blistering moment it wrenches itself within the confines of his heart, within the deep ache of his bones. It didn’t settle properly in his throat- his body trying to force the alien ripple of dread stitching itself right between his ribs. It hurts- his lungs can’t take in air. His breath wheezes past his lips in shallow pants, unable to tear his eyes away, like at any moment you’ll suddenly materialize right before him. 

He presses his lip into a tight line and digs his nails into his palms, anything to release a fraction of the agony festering within his body. 

Brain on fire, shaking hands and the image of you dead in a thousand different flashes, a sting to his waterlines that has him scrambling to shove his fingers against the thin skin. 

Don’t fucking cry. Don’t fucking cry.

“Bad luck. Sorry, boy.”

All the skin on his body has flushed red and sticky. He ducks his head down towards his lap, desperate to hide within himself, even more desperate to hide this part of himself from the watchful eyes of his group. He should have just made you join them. Should have thrown you over his shoulder and wrapped an immovable grasp around your arm and held you hostage until everyone had a team and then you’d have no one else to turn to. No one else, nothing else except for him. 

He can’t even hear his friend’s counterfeit empathy over the swell of his heartbeat in his ears. His body is too heavy to hold up, his arms dragging as lead, his head even heavier on his shoulders. Uncanny urges to tear at the skin of his face overcome him and he has to bury them into his hair in release, roughly running his digits through the black locks, trying to breathe and breathe and breathe. A lump the size of a boulder burrows into his throat.

Cracking his eyes open to peek down at his lip, squeezing them shut when his vision is wet and blurry. His lower lip trembles until it’s caught in his teeth, biting hard into the skin. 

Don't fucking cry.

Why did you have to be so stubborn? If you’d have just let him take care of you this one fucking time, you would be alive right now. You should be alive right now- pissed and glaring fury in his direction but breathing and taking up space and existing-

“Ah, they made it. Here I thought they were all goners.”

Se-mi’s casual tone barely reaches him, but it’s got him frantically flicking his gaze back up to the archway, his hands falling from his face, trying to see through the blotches in his sight. A handful of players take soft steps into the room, all shaken up, all bewildered.

There you are. His racing heart stops entirely.

You’re sauntering into the dormitory like a wounded animal, all hands wringing out in front of you and lines drawn into your frown. For the first time, in Nam-gyu’s eyes, you look small. Frightened. Every step you take has a weight to it he’s never witnessed you bear. And even from across the room, even with rigid tears trapped in the corners of his eyes, he can see the grip of fear on the flat of your throat. 

All those jumping thoughts settle into a tunnel vision, you at the epicenter of his quaking nerves simmering down into stillness. He forgets how his chest had twisted as if a knife had been planted between his collarbones, and he forgets how he had almost lost his lunch right there on the floor. All because you’re standing there in the middle of the room hugging yourself, white as a ghost, even paler when you lift your head up and see the way Nam-gyu is trapped in your line of sight. 

Nam-gyu see’s it. No hate, no dejection. 

Relief- this instant where your widened eyes soften, your frown lifts into a slack-jawed breath of solace. It rocks his world when it hits him and it lights a flame so hot under his skin it’s burning through his veins. All the air trapped in his lungs leaves him at once and he can pinpoint the exact moment all the tensions in his shoulders and back melt away in nothingness. The tears dry, his lower lip released from his gnashing teeth.

The man you’d joined earlier pats your shoulder and offers you a pathetic, wavering thumbs up. You can’t seem to return his dull enthusiasm. In fact, you look worse than Nam-gyu’s seen you thus far. Changed, all wires sticking exposed and sparking. There’s this lifelessness to your body when you climb up the stairs and have to heave yourself up into your bed, crossing your legs and resting your chin on your palms propped up over your knees. 

When your eyes meet his, he expects some sort of sign of contempt, or perhaps maybe you’d refuse to meet his gaze entirely. Instead, for the first time since you’d arrived, you find him first. 

You offer him a pitiful open palmed wave. 

The pearly gates crack open and Nam-gyu feels it again- warmth. Even just a little bit, like lighting a match in a snowstorm, huddling around the flame. He half cocks a smile, and he waves back. 

--

Lunch came quicker than he’d anticipated, and much to Nam-gyu’s dismay, you weren’t exactly thrilled to hop into line. In fact, ever since you’d let him jam his fingers back into your closing door, you’d hardly acknowledged anything other than your lap. Even more so upsetting, that player you hung around tapped your mattress to gather your attention, pointing to the line, sighing in defeat when you’d shook your head. 

Jealousy seeps into his wounds all over again, quiet, but equally as simmering. Don’t act like you know her. Little devils tapping away at his psyche. She doesn't need you to check up on her.

But then again, he realizes, maybe you do. 

His mouth dries when the sound of his thoughts footsteps come running up on him. His greed. His innate ability to leave you unchecked and grappling. That was among the sea of problems Nam-gyu had been struggling to grasp. Here he was, trying to drag you back into the tar pits of his hold and he hadn’t even tried the basics of kindness. The step one of it all. Always taking, taking, taking and demanding more at every swipe. Always expecting, never building. 

So he jumps into line before he can second guess himself, and he takes his bento box with a grateful nod and he doesn’t waste a second before he’s chasing the trail of you to your bed. From your high point, perched and unmoving, all he can do is climb the stairs and rest his hands over the corner of your mattress. Your far away gaze lifts from your lap and settles down to him. 

The air is different. The landscape of you has changed. 

“What is it.” Your tone is uncannily flat, but it’s void of its bite, its drive. 

“Can I come up?” 

It’s a simple request, but it leaves a shake at the end of his sentence. It’s only natural when he mentally prepares himself for you to slap no onto his forehead, but you scoot over, and he takes the spot so quickly you wouldn’t even have the chance to say no if you thought about it too much. He hoists himself up and over, fills the gap at your side, just as he should have done days ago. He sits the bento box at the crest of your lap.

“What’s this?” Blinking down at the food, you make no effort to pick it up. 

“Fish and rice.” Nam-gyu shrugs. “Looks like an egg, too.” 

“I can see that. I meant, what are you doing giving me this?”

“...You didn’t get anything.”

As your fingers gingerly touch the container, eyes scanning over the contents, Nam-gyu feels he can breathe easier. This is a win for him- you aren’t fighting him anymore. Still on the edge, always ready to run, but the look in your eyes isn’t pure hatred or outright hurt. A swell of pride overcomes him when you pluck the chopstick and murmur, thank you. 

You’re pliable. Now, more than ever. 

You eat in silence. He lets you eat in silence, even though peace isn’t exactly one of his virtues.  Partly because he doesn’t know what to say to you, but mostly because he’s got this innate fear that he’s going to say something shitty and you’re going to hate him all over again for it. A million words are always shoving and pushing against his lips and he fumbles with navigating them. So, silence, it is. 

But it doesn’t bother him. Silence meant that you were simply just there, existing, the one thing he had longed for over the years. He knew, deep in his heart, he’d fucked up when he began to miss the very presence of you. No sex, no drugs, no push or pull, just you. And now he gets to take whatever you’ll give in micro doses, greedy and starved for you. Fighting the urge to pull you into himself where you could never climb out. He refrains- he forces himself to just be there. 

No longer could he be the creature he had been all those years ago. He had to be different- not all rough edges and clawing hands, ripping and taking. Or dark eyes watching your every move, or jagged words cutting your flesh with the highs and lows of his tone. Something better, this time. Something for you. 

Tomorrow would be a new beast entirely. And, in less than a few hours, the lights would flicker off and bask the dormitory into hues of red and blues. You would lay alone in your all-too-large bed and he would sink into his mattress drugged out of his mind thinking countless thoughts of you, you, you. The distance would feel like miles- he needed you right there, right then, always. Anything other than what he had sitting beside you was a vast ocean. 

The bento box appears in front of his lap, half eaten.

“You’re not going to eat it?” Nam-gyu’s brows knit.

“You should eat, too. What, scared of my germs now?” You murmur, and when he meets your eyeline, he sees something familiar in those hues. Something nurturing, sweet. Tender. 

Nam-gyu picks up the chopsticks, and he eats.  For the first time in years, his food tastes like food.

[h1biscusgal]

My journey. (Tw)

This is the longest post, please read everything if you need motivation, need some advice, and let me help you with something.

I want anyone who is doubting themselves, anyone who is trying not to give up, anyone else in the community of being blessed, to read the post whole.

I'm going to be talking about my life, and how the journey started, what I did and what I did not, bear in mind please, this was a little emotional for me to write, I feel a bit nostalgic about it all and I honestly can't believe so much went in such a time.

I found out about everything starting with a book I bought from the local fair that interested me a lot, and I swear if it weren't for the book, I would be here, I used to be the most logical bitch child ever, top grades, stressed like I'm in college already, pained mind and always pressured to be perfect, resulting in me being burnt out and already too mature for my age in mind, yet still childish in many senses, and constant fights with my parents, I felt like I was against the world.

The book was The Power of your Subconscious Mind - Dr. Joseph Murphy.

I was a kid who loved hobby reading, sort of an escape from the hell hole of the pressure I would have around me, and I adapted by this book, and it changed everything for me.

I was only 13 at that time of the book, after that I started trying it out for things and I saw results, made me happy, and I went to something I found in the corner of YouTube, called subliminals, and another part of it where it was called manifestation.

Now with subs, I found reality shifting, then came the void, then came lucid dreams and all that combined together in a hot mess.

Shifting was something so beautiful to me, The idea of a world where I could live my life was something that trapped me so much, I already imagine things a lot and use it as an escape mechanism, sounded perfect, right? And naturally, my first DR was my hero academia, just because I wanted to relive being a proper teenage.

And for subliminals? I can tell you one thing, I was extremely insecure of the person who used to be in the mirror, because all I did was to throw away my life, I studied, slept, and woke up, no friends, no one to trust, I just lost myself, and all that when I was 13-14, (tw) I hated hated hated myself and my appearance so bad, I could only pity myself for the state I used to be in.

I feel almost sad for my younger self, as I'm 18 now watching my young teen self stress through her life, cry at her appearance, even sometimes (tw) wishing to be just die in her sleep, all that because I was heavily burnt out, seeing girls my age looking prettier through puberty, talking with others and I'm stuck on a wish that felt like it won't happen, and yet, a part of me was too ashamed to feel this way, because I knew there are people worse than me, and I sympathized for them.

I think it started good, at 14 years old, I fully started subliminals and it worked for a while, especially my first results that hyped me up so much as changing the grades I mentioned on the other post, so I thought life was changing right?

It did for a year, at 15 things were going well on the outside, I started obsessing over my look, I started using subliminals even more too much for my appearance, I changed drastically, and tried to fit in, but get, none of those changes in my self were drastically from manifesting or anything, sure of course I had some small results, it was almost like I was not naturally like that, I felt fake in short, like a second skin to my real self, every night trying to shift or enter the void and whatnot, all that and finally, and I even opened a Tumblr account which safe to say, got pretty popular back in the day and honestly that was quite a mistake for me at that time.

Why? It ruined me.

I thought I could open the blog to help people with their journey as well as help myself with mine, y'know? Things got out of hand when I got a bunch of people who messaged me and ranted to me about their problems, and bless my younger heart, I used to be so touched by it and help them with it, I was like an unpaid therapist, and I never cared about my health, I just wanted to make people who had worse life than mine, get their results before even I did.

I should've told them I can't manifest for them, but that was where the shit and trust issues came from, sadly I got into the trap of (tw) "suicidal" people who claimed they'll off themselves and blame it on me if I don't enter the void for them, saying how they hate their life and everything else and how they want to change everything.

Please.

For the love of god.

I've been there like you and in worse, I stood up, I found the courage to stand up everytime I fell down, everytime, and that happened so much, almost 6 years worth of failure and never once I wanted someone to do it for me, why? Because it's your life my love, please don't think I'm rude or whatnot, I seriously I'm telling you, it's all in your hands.

And yes, of course there are people with far worse conditions and living state than mine, and I'm never blaming anyone to ask for help, but seriously.

To threaten a literal child on a simply happy pink blog telling her to enter the void for them or else? Especially one where she was a little too eager to help? Please, do it on your own as much as we all did on our own, I used to think "why don't bloggers like to manifest for others?".

I understood it after that, the emotional baggage? That was traumatizing for me.

Either way, I also had one of my followers spam follow me on my private Instagram (which I don't know how) and started (tw) a slight talk of let's say, almost grooming.

Thank God it wasn't pictures, I don't know if it is considered that, but is it alright to be told (tw) that they'd like to f#ck me or what not? I'm uncomfortable to go into more details but that was the breaking point for me, seeing almost 40 or something accounts spam messaging my requests no matter how much I block them, kept making more accounts.

I. Was. Horrified.

That's when I snapped, that was my last resort, I hated everything, I hated it all, I blocked all the current accounts, deleted my Instagram account, shut my blog off and started neglecting myself heavily and got back again into a depressing state, where I thought that's it, I'm cursed, wasn't I?

I burnt out so bad.

I genuinely believe it was the worst year of my life, even when I turned 16, everything got wrecked, the life I built and tried to maintain it fell apart, one of my friends backstabbed me so hard, I just gave up on manifesting and the void, which was something I wanted so much every night, wishing or begging anyone listening to help me, scrolling hours in Tumblr trying to find something helpful.

When I turned 17, this was my healing stage.

I may have slight tears in my eye, or I may sound dramatic, but oh god I am so glad to be here where I am now, I love myself, I seriously feel so bad and emotional for my younger self, if only, oh if only I could go back to hug her and tell her to live her teenage life, but I couldn't, I took life too seriously at that time and told myself I was cursed, only in the summer of 2024 I got back to my manifesting mindset, without Tumblr.

At 17, I started fixing myself, I gently loved myself, I started throwing the pedestal of the void away, I treated everything in front of me as a miracle, I loved myself, helped myself, took myself back on my feet and I gave myself time.

Time is something a lot of people here are annoyed by, it does not exist, so why are you bothered to give yourself some of this "nonexistent" time to heal yourself? I know some might say it's hard to love yourself, guys please.

Just love that small part of you that is still standing, that was shown the void and shifting and anything else for a reason, at 17 I started seeing results from everywhere again, I gained popularity, I built myself, I helped myself, trusted the law of assumptions, and my mindset had grown.

Now, I'm healed.

I no longer do this just to "get out of this" or "to escape everything", I do it for myself and because I know I deserve it, I don't place it up, I place it within reach like an apple waiting to be picked.

Everyone reading this, if you have come so far, do not give up, but of course.

It's your choice, no one can beg you to come back to your life, it's your choice my love.

I hope everyone in any situation my deepest and my most tender love to them, wether you're shifting, premashifting, rebuilding yourself with the void, changing everything.

Please thank yourself for staying strong and reaching here for so long, some say they've been doing this for 2 years, some say one.

I went on strong for 6, and I am glad I did, and I realized it all falls in your hands, I could've done it all by the first year, heck, even the first month, so my loves, my last piece of advice:

Love yourself, thank yourself, and ease yourself, let the apple fall, and not your hand that was straining for the apple.

Xoxo. Coco

[hunniexox]

what you are breaking away from ● PAC

I've been feeling of late this strong urge to let go of a lot of things while simultaneously feeling as though I already have. Just as I am in this process, I feel there are others like me going through the same change.

This PAC is just to provide some insight into what you are breaking away from and some guidance on how to allow space for the new things and ways of being that is coming in.

Remember, you make your choices x

Decks used: The Wild Unknown Animal Spirit deck, Cats Rule the Earth deck, Rider Waite deck

Pile 1

Cards: The Frog, Six of Cups, Nine of Pentacles, Ace of Swords Rx

You're breaking away from what you thought your life was supposed to look like, and actively so. At this stage of your journey, you've gotten fed up with the inconsistency and plans not working out the way you want them to. The mental fog, not being able to stick to any plan you set, falling behind on your "goals".

Dreams you had as a child, don't fit in with the life you're living now. Dreams you had as a young teen, they seem so unrealistic now. Maybe the dream wasn't what you were meant to do or become, but it was how you were meant to feel doing it. You wanted to be happy, have purpose, live a life where you are content and have everything you need and want.

Look around you, surely you've gotten what you were desiring in some form or another but it's not making you feel the way you wanted about it. That can be frustrating; but don't take your frustration out on your younger self for dreaming of a certain life and don't say it's ridiculous, because it's not.

The life you wanted for yourself is not far fetched, it just looks a little different than the image in your head. When we are children, we don't have the awareness we do as adults. As adults, we know that there is a lot to consider. As a child, just thinking about the possibilities is enough to get excited.

Allow space for the new possibilities. Life wants to do a new thing for you, so change your focus and change your mindset, and you'll begin to feel excited about all the possibilities.

Pile 2

Cards: The Owl, Page of Swords, Page of Cups, The Moon

You definitely received an idea for something new this past full moon. You had dreams about it, you came across posts on social media, and you have been feeling the pull to do more research on this particular interest. Insecurities are present, as they have been many times before; you have a lot of intuitive nudges about things you should pursue and you're too shy to be seen doing it, but then you always regret not taking the step.

This time is different though; the feeling is so much stronger and it won't leave you alone. You keep seeing 1111! Confirming to start and you are on the right path. That's what you are moving toward, and breaking free from, the insecurity. You can do it. You dream about it all the time, you're having a lot of inspiration and ideas on how to take action.

Just do it, try out all the different ways of going about it, and eventually you will find your groove. You're not going to be perfect, and there's no need for you to be. Explore what has been inspiring you. Explore your current desires. Explore, explore, explore.

This inspiration could lead you to a new job that could really bring abundance into your life. Following this inspiration could bring in the fulfillment that you've been longing for all this time.

It's time to make those dreams a reality. You're breaking away from staying in the dream world and only thinking about what you're wanting to do. Now, you're actually going to do it.

Trust yourself and the universe will trust you with your dreams. Actually, it already has.

Pile 3

Cards: The Starfish, Six of Wands, Ten of Cups, Six of Swords Rx

You don't really want to break away from anything in your life. You're happy with almost everything in it. When these cards came up, the first image that came to mind was someone winning a beauty pageant – all the accolades, the overwhelming feeling of accomplishment, of achieving something you worked so hard for.

You're good at what you do, there's no need to break away. Maybe in your mind; but the universe is ever changing and growing, it's expanding. You do have the destiny mark for success. Whatever you touch can literally turn to gold. Everyone wants you around for the success your mere presence brings.

Lately, the tiny voice has been whispering, "Does anyone see my soul?"

You shove a sock in it every time it tries to speak.

The true question is: Do you want them to? That's difficult to answer, the image of yourself has already been built to a meticulous degree. Whether that is being the family favorite, being popular, or having a large social media following.

I wouldn't say force the change, but start to acknowledge that some part of you, even if it's a tiny one is not truly happy with the life you're currently living. Maybe you don't need to break away, maybe you just need to start letting your soul speak, even if you only do it in the middle of the night.

Remember, these things catch up with you. What was an idealistic life, will eventually change. When people no longer value your golden touch, what will you do? You are so much more than what you do for others or your influence. Let yourself be a human, give yourself a break from the stage.

[heeseungiez]

let me in » s. jy

pairings! sim jake x afab!reader (p.sh x reader if you squint)

synopsis! in which jake agrees to help you get closer to sunghoon despite having feelings for you.

warnings! none really, angst, fluff, jake and reader are best friends and slightly dumb, lots of RIOT (valo/league) mentions ??

word count! 5k+

a/n! this is something i wrote like a month back? i've been writing one-shots for myself for months tbh so i guess i'm releasing some of them into the wild, you could say

Jake has been in your life for as long as you could remember. You two have lived next door for ages and your parents were practically best friends. That meant spending unholy amounts of time with Jake even if you didn’t want to, but Jake was a great person to hang around so you never really complained. 

Today was no different. Your two families gathered to celebrate your younger sister’s birthday. It wasn’t anything special nor big as your parents disliked big parties and having to attend to far too many guests, so the party consisted of your family, Jake’s, and your sister’s friends that she invited herself. Your sister wasn’t much younger than you, only three years, which meant that they were old enough to ogle Jake due to his conventionally attractive looks. 

You would’ve loved to stay in the main area of the house with the girls just to watch Jake suffer, but the puppy eyes he kept shooting you made you actually feel bad for him. So you two ended up going to your room. You ignored the loud whispers of your sister’s friends as they asked her whether you and Jake were dating.

“Thanks.” Jake let out a relieved breath when you closed the door to your room, and you laughed at him, examining the lost expression on his face. 

“You really can grow out of your nerd looks, even if the nerd stays, huh?” you teased the boy, giggling when he looked at you, his eyes wide and distressed by the excessive female attention. 

If he’d been with his other friends, he would’ve probably played it cool. But since it was only your two families and those girls, the attention was probably overwhelming. Especially when those girls were fifteen and you two were about to graduate high school.

“Is this your way of complimenting my looks?” Jake retorted, crossing the room to lie down on your bed. He closed his eyes, finally relaxing after being harassed by a group of pre-teens.

“Do you even need it?” you replied, joining Jake on the bed.

You lay down next to him, your arms slightly touching. Glancing at each other, the two of you broke out in a fit of giggles over the silliness of the situation.

Jake turned on the bed to stare at you once you both calmed down, and your brow rose in curiosity, wondering what was on his mind.

“Hey, you have a date to the prom yet?” he asked, to which you shook your head in response. 

“No,” you said, pursing your lips, “but I was thinking of asking Sunghoon… I don’t know if he’ll say yes if I ask… actually, do you know if he already has a date?”

Jake’s smile faltered the slightest bit as he shook his head, but you only paid attention to what this meant rather than how Jake felt. “Not as far as I’m aware. Pretty sure only Heeseung and Jay have dates.”

Your eyes widened. “Wait, so you don’t have a date either? Then, um, I can help you get one if you help me with Sunghoon!” you suggested energetically, shooting up from your bed as your mind began whirring with ideas for who you could pair Jake up with. 

“Right. Yeah.” Jake sat up on the bed, nodding. You barely noticed the way Jake longingly stared at you as you began pacing in your room, thinking of a plan. The thing was, Jake had been asked by several people to the prom already, but he turned down all of them because he was trying to find the perfect moment to ask you. Except it seemed he just lost the opportunity overall.

“There’s still more than a month left, which means we have a lot of time to find you a proper date. And I mean, look at you, there should be no issues,” you said thoughtfully, turning to Jake to examine him. He was beautiful from head to toe, his black hair styled to the side so his hair wouldn’t fall into his eyes, big brown eyes and a large enchanting smile. You could probably easily get one of your girlfriends to go with him without much convincing if you asked them.

Jake continued to nod, running a hand through his hair. Licking his lips, he struggled to find the right words to tell you that he didn’t want your help with finding a date, since he wanted you to be the date. But no words would come out even as you continued pacing back and forth between your collection of female superhero figures and your fantasy bookshelf.

“How should I approach Sunghoon?” you asked rhetorically, but still looked to Jake for guidance, hoping that he would have some tips to offer regarding one of his best friends. But he only shrugged in response.

“Just talk to him,” he said unhelpfully to you. “He knows you, you know him. I’d say the best approach is to be direct with him.”

You let out a laugh. “Ha, as if.” You shook your head. There wasn’t a bit of confidence in you to actually approach Sunghoon directly and ask him to the prom. No, you needed a plan that would trick him into thinking that he was the one who wanted to go to prom with you. 

Jake hummed, ignoring the way his chest constricted at the interest you showed for his best friend. He wanted to be the guy you wanted to ask you to the prom, but you didn’t even seem to consider the possibility. Instead, you were already mentally browsing through the list of girls that you could potentially set up with Jake, and he hated it.

“Could you get Sunghoon to teach me to ice skate? A double date on an ice rink could be awesome,” you said, playing out a scene in your head that was heavily reminiscent of that one Teen Wolf scene in season one where Lydia completely showed off her ice skating skills.

“Teach you? Didn’t you do figure skating for like a year and then quit when we were twelve?” Jake asked with a raised brow.

“See, if I knew that continuing would mean meeting Sunghoon I’d probably keep at it too,” you replied, shrugging. “I did a lot of things when I was twelve to be honest.”

Jake chuckled in agreement, glancing at a part of your wall that — surprisingly — wasn’t covered in posters, and instead showcased several trophies and medals from your many short-lived hobbies when you were in primary and middle school. The awards ranged from sports like basketball, gymnastics, archery and dancing to singing, computer science, maths and that one physics competition Jake talked you into in eighth grade because it was in pairs. 

“And you literally dropped everything,” Jake remarked, shaking his head. 

“Well, it’s not my fault I caught a disease from you.” You pouted, looking at Jake. “You should’ve never let me discover the absolute thrill of playing League of Legends,” you said sarcastically, and Jake rolled his eyes at you. You had a love-hate relationship with the game, though these days you spent more time playing Valorant. It would be a waste if you didn’t since you had to spend hours watching Twitch streamers to get the early beta key to the game.

“You don’t even play with me anymore,” Jake said sulkily. 

“Sucks to suck, doesn’t it?”

Jake stuck out his tongue at you, and you giggled at how childish but cute it was. “Anyway, I doubt Sunghoon’s gonna fall for it if you pretend to not know how to ice skate.”

“Fine, I won’t pretend then.” Shrugging, you plopped down on your bed, invading Jake’s personal space. He didn’t know whether to push you away or bring you closer, and it made his head spin.

“But you still want to go to the ice rink?”

“Yeah.” You grinned, thinking of ways to impress Sunghoon. Unlike Jake, he did not know of your past as a figure skater, which meant that he would not expect you to be able to keep up with him, at least when it comes to basics.

“I hate you,” Jake mumbled.

Why was he even going along with this?

Getting access to the ice rink was perhaps too easy. You knew the owners because of your figure skating days, and despite not actively ice skating anymore, you did like to stop by every now and then, usually with friends that were not Jake. The owners also knew Sunghoon, so when you mentioned his name, that was probably the deciding point for them. They let you stay after the ice rink officially closed, and told you the passcode for the day to get your friends in.

You passed the code over to Jake so he’d be the one opening the doors to the friend you invited along for Jake and Sunghoon.

For now, you were at the empty ring all by yourself. You chose to wear a pair of leggings and a warmer jacket only, staying on the ice in your skates to keep yourself warm, though you could feel the redness in your cheeks and nose, affected by the cold. You were mostly doing laps around the ring, switching between front and back skating, occasionally adding in a spin there and a jump here, your blood rushing through every limb as you stretched them all out while balancing yourself on the ice.

Unbeknownst to you, your friends entered the ice rink area, quietly watching you in awe for different reasons. Jake hadn’t seen you skate in years and this was his first time seeing you on ice again. Your friend just didn’t know how truly good you were when it came to your abilities, as you usually spent your time chasing each other on the ice whenever you came here. Sunghoon didn’t even know you could figure skate.

“Is she just perfect at everything she does?” your friend asked rhetorically, glancing at Jake. None of them could find the strength in them to stop watching you and let you know that they were present.

“Basically,” Jake replied.

“Her form isn’t perfect,” Sunghoon remarked, breaking the spell with his insight. “She’s good and has talent, but she lacks a lot of proper training.” Neither Jake nor your friend could fight Sunghoon on that. He was the professional figure skater out of the four of you, after all. 

“You can help her then,” said your friend, bringing the support you invited her along for. 

Sunghoon ignored your friend, walking over to the tribunes to put his skates on instead. Jake followed after him while your friend scoffed and crossed her arms across her chest. Out of the boys, she’d always liked Jake the most, so it wasn’t hard to convince her to come along.

“Y/N, hey!” she called to get your attention. You abruptly halted in the middle of the ice rink, your eyes going towards your friend before spotting Jake and Sunghoon as well, though neither were paying attention to you as of now. “How long have you been here?” 

You skated across the ring to reach your friend. “Not long,” you said. “What’s the time now?”

“Like, ten-thirty?” she replied with a shrug.

“Okay, then maybe I’ve been here for about half an hour.”

Your friend shook her head, staring at you in disbelief. “You should’ve told us to drag our asses here earlier!” she scolded you. “Why did you never tell me you can figure skate?”

“I haven’t told anybody, to be honest,” you replied. “Only a very select number of people know. Like my family and Jake and his family. Some people from middle school… but nobody talks about it anyway. It wasn’t anything to talk about much since I didn’t go competitive.”

Your friend smacked her lips together in disapproval. “All I’m hearing is you’re wasting away your talents… and for what? So you can play a shooting game?” She deadpanned, judging you with narrowed eyes. You offered a nonchalant smile and shrugged.

“Valorant is life,” you said. “I’m also trying to get out of plat in League. It’s ass.”

“Girl.” Your friend rolled her eyes. “No wonder you get along with Jake’s friends so well…”

“Is that supposed to be an insult, ‘cause it sure sounds like one.” You stared at your friend with one raised brow, but she made no expression that would give away the true meaning behind her words. It was whatever you wanted it to be, or whatever you interpreted it as.

“At least they’re pretty,” she said. “Besides, it’s only been like ten minutes and Sunghoon’s already a dick.”

“Really? How so?”

“He basically said you suck, and then ignored me,” said your friend, and you could sense she was exaggerating from the way she pretended to be hurt, and the pout on her lips.

“I do suck.” You grinned, glancing over at Jake and Sunghoon who were in a deep conversation about something while tying their skates. “But whatever. I’m bored. Hurry up and get on the ice.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah… jeez.”

Sunghoon approached you on the ice not long after your friend disappeared to change from her shoes, and you smiled brightly at the taller boy, examining his fit. It wasn’t as casual as yours since he wore a black bomber jacket on top of a white T-shirt with black jeans, but it also wasn’t not-not-casual. 

“Jake said you used to do figure skating?” Sunghoon tilted his head to the side, stopping right in front of you. He examined you as if he were standing in front of a complete stranger rather than somebody he’d known for years,  and you challenged him by staring back at him.

“Yep,” you hummed in response. “It’s been a while, though.”

“I could see that,” Sunghoon remarked, which reminded you of your friend saying that Sunghoon practically said you suck. Well, there it was. Except there was still some sort of awe in his voice as he watched you. He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, pursing his lips. “Sorry, that probably sounded mean.”

You shook your head, patting Sunhoon’s shoulder reassuringly. “It’s fine. I’m not necessarily out of practice but I’m also not in good shape so… your honesty is appreciated.”

“Since when do you figure skate anyway?”

“I was in middle school,” you replied. “Like, around the time I started getting bored of basketball, so I wanted to try something new.”

Sunghoon nodded, assuring you that he was listening.

“After about two months of practice, my trainer wanted me to go competitive, but I never did. Like, I liked it enough but I didn’t really have the motivation, you know? So I lasted for about a year before dropping figure skating… it also didn’t help that I started playing League.” You laughed, realising that you dropped a ton of your hobbies for the worst best game in the world. 

Sunghoon cleared his throat, crossing his arms in thought. “That’s weak.” He shook his head in disapprovement. “I played League and continued to figure skate.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Yeah, and then you’re hardstuck silver…””

Sunghoon scoffed.

“I did gymnastics instead, though,” you explained yourself with a shrug. “That one lasted longer and I even won a few competitions. Dancing after that. But the only thing that stayed is Riot.” You laughed at the sceptical look on Sunghoon’s face.

“You’re such a weirdo.”

“And you’re a loser,” you shot back. 

“The medals and trophies in my house say differently,” Sunghoon claimed matter-of-factly, but you dismissed him with a wave of your hand.

“I’ve never seen them, so they don’t exist to me.”

“Oh, so you’re an empiricist all of a sudden?” 

“Always been one.” You crossed your arms across your chest, the corner of your mouth raised in a tiny smirk when you saw that Sunghoon was smiling too. You’d never shared a one on one conversation with him before since you were usually surrounded by the rest of the friend group, but it was nice speaking to him like this.

“I’ll show you when you come over one day,” he said, and your brow shot up.

“Wow. I’m so honoured to get the opportunity,” you replied, grinning. “I’ve always wanted to meet Gaeul.”

“As you should… she’s much cuter than Layla.” Sunghoon glanced at Jake, who seemed to be in a conversation with your friend now. Neither of the two had stepped on the ice yet.

You narrowed your eyes at Sunghoon, shaking your head. “That’s debatable. I’m practically Layla’s mum. Jake and I have shared custody.”

“Damn,” Sunghoon laughed, and so did you.

You made a sound that signalled you were cold, clasping your hands together to rub them and create some heat. Sunghoon looked at you but didn’t say anything besides reaching into his pockets to hand you a pair of gloves. You accepted it with a smile and put them on, appreciating the heat they offered despite being too big for your hands.

“Wanna race?” you asked because you truly needed something to make your blood rush again. Your cheeks burned with cold, and you were sure your entire face was flushed.

“Sure. But you can’t beat me,” Sunghoon said confidently.

“We’ll see about that.” You giggled, pushing Sunghoon back with all your strength before starting off your first lap around the rink.

Jake and your friend still sat at the gate, and he shook his head watching you and Sunghoon race. With your head start, you managed to keep a fair distance from Sunghoon, but he was catching up the longer you two skated around. He hated watching you laugh as Sunghoon chased after you, a frown forming on his lips, which your friend noticed easily.

She nudged Jake’s shoulder with hers and gave him a knowing look. “I honestly thought you’d have asked her to the prom by now,” she said.

Shrugging, Jake shook his head. “If I ask her whenever, she’ll just say yes out of pity. And she’s set on going with Sunghoon anyway,” he said, staring at the ground, kicking the tough rubber material with the sharp end of his skates.

“Yeah, but she just likes him,” said your friend. “She loves you. Nobody’s gonna pity you, Jake. Be for real right now. Do you even know why I agreed to come here?”

Jake merely blinked at your friend.

“I was thinking of helping you ask Y/N to prom,” she admitted, grinning. “Which you’re not gonna do if you’re just gonna sit on your ass and watch her flirt with your best friend.”

Jake glanced at you, showing off by skating backwards. You jumped up and spun, making Sunghoon clap while he followed after you. He was the next one to show off by spinning in place. You gathered some speed on the ice and made an abrupt stop right in front of him, showering him with shaved ice.

“YA, Y/N!” Sunghoon shouted after you, and you skated away, giggles echoing through the rink.

“I’m actually not really good at ice skating,” Jake admitted, licking his lips in frustration.

“Don’t you ever go ice skating with Y/N?” your friend asked because she was one of the friends that you occasionally went ice skating with. Jake shook his head.

“I just avoid it ‘cause I’m bad at it.”

“You’re such a pleb.” Your friend rolled her eyes. “C’mon, let’s get on the ice. It’ll be easier for you if you go willingly,” she warned him, a malicious glint in her eye. The hidden threat was well received, and Jake stood up instantly, your friend following after him.

“Look out!” you shouted out at the exact moment Jake entered the rink. You tried to stop, but you still managed to topple Jake over, the two of you falling roughly on the ice while Sunghoon and your friend watched.

She, being the friend that she was, burst out laughing, while you held yourself up above Jake. He lay on the ice on his back, splattered in defeat because the last thing he expected was to fall the moment he stepped on the ice. He stared up at you, cheeks flushed from the cold, hair falling into your eyes, and he wished he could tell you how much he cared about you in that moment, had it not been the most embarrassing situation you found yourself in.

“I’m so so so so so sorry,” you apologised profusely, getting up. Your knees hurt from the fall since you tried to not completely splat on top of Jake. He was lucky to still be breathing properly and not getting his breath kicked out of him from the fall.

“It’s fine,” he said, turning to his front with a groan so he could get up, too. “I’m totally fine,” he repeated as you helped him up, and you laughed at his lame attempt to play it cool. But then he squirmed his eyes, gripping his left hip.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” you asked, moving your hands to his hip, touching it lightly to know if his jacket managed to block some of the impact. Though you doubted it, wanting to just lift the jacket up and see if a bruise would form.

“Yeah, it’s whatever,” he lied.

“I’m really sorry, Jake,” you apologised again, grabbing his hands with your gloved ones. He noticed that you had Sunghoon’s gloves on, obviously, and he wanted to get out of here, but that would mean disappointing you. That was the last thing he wanted.

You hugged him from the side and kissed his temple, and Jake’s whole body heated up from the contact, his pain partially forgotten.

Sunghoon and your friend watched from the sidelines. He leaned over to your friend and whispered: “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”

“Well, I didn’t want Jake to hurt himself,” she said, but did not deny that she may have timed their entrance at around the same time as Sunghoon and you would be at the gate while doing your laps.

“So I’m not the only one who knows Jake’s head over heels for her.” Sunghoon nodded toward you, and your friend gave Sunghoon a weird look.

“You know?”

“Yep,” Sunghoon said. “I thought I’d help him confess by making him jealous, but he’s hopeless.” The boy shook his head.

“Surely, they’ll figure it out?” Your friend’s questioning tone made Sunghoon chuckle.

“Jake’s an idiot,” he stated, planting his hands on his hips.

“I noticed,” your friend agreed. “Can you actually ask Y/N to prom?”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Sunghoon scratched the back of his head. “I know Jake, and he’s more likely to give up if I do.”

“You don’t just give up years of affection.” Your friend shook her head, knowingly staring at you and Jake as you continuously tried to make him feel better. “Nah, he needs to get his shit together, and I think this will work in the long run. Just trust me. Besides, we also need to get Y/N to realise that she likes Jake and not you — no offence.”

Sunghoon scoffed. “Why wouldn’t she actually like me?”

“Because you’re a dickass,” your friend replied with a roll of her eyes.

“No I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.” Your friend gave Sunghoon an unimpressed look. “You’re not nicknamed the ice prince just because you’re a figure skater, dude. Everyone just thinks you’re unapproachable and mean as hell.”

“That’s not true,” Sunghoon defended himself.

“Then don’t act like a dick?” Your friend narrowed her eyes.

“Hmph, thanks for the advice,” he said sarcastically.

“Exactly.”

Sunghoon chose to ignore your friend, skating over to you and Jake instead. You giggled at something Jake said, covering your mouth. “I actually forgot you suck at skating,” you said.

Jake glared at you. “I’m not that bad,” he said.

“You’re terrible,” you disagreed with him, noticing Sunghoon.

“She’s not wrong, hyung. You’re crouching too much and putting your weight backward instead of forward. If you’re going to fall, you’re supposed to fall on your front since your back… well, you know now.”

Grunting, Jake looked between you and Sunghoon, shaking his head. “I’m fine,” he said, attempting to skate away from you, but he slipped. Jake managed to balance himself and stay on his feet, but the damage was already done as you and Sunghoon looked at him knowingly.

“Don’t push yourself too much if your hip still hurts,” you remarked.

“He’s trying to look cool,” Sunghoon commented, shaking his head. “Dumbass.”

“It’s cute.” You giggled.

Sunghoon hummed, not entirely agreeing with you. “By the way, Y/N, I’ve been told you still don’t have a date to prom?”

“Very much so.” You nodded, glancing at Sunghoon curiously.

“Wanna go with me?” he asked, accelerating your weeks-long plan to get Sunghoon to ask you. Well, in your head, the scene was supposed to be much more romantic than him casually asking you, but you were satisfied regardless.

“Really?” You tilted your head to the side, genuinely surprised by the turn of events. “I’d love to.” You grinned.

“M’kay, awesome.”

That was suspiciously easy…

Jake officially hated prom. He despised it. Abhorred it. Whatever other synonym there was to describe hate. That was how he felt about the stupid fucking prom that you went to with Sunghoon instead of him. Because now he sat at a table near the refreshments with a frown on his lips, staring at you and Sunghoon while you danced and talked and laughed together. 

Jake had barely spoken to Sunghoon since he asked you to prom. Yes, it was out of pettiness, but he also didn’t want to talk about you, which would certainly end up being a topic in their conversation. Like you and Jake, they were also best friends, but it was different. As different as friendships between two boys could be, but also as two people who had met each other in middle school, rather than knowing one another practically since birth.

And he couldn’t talk about you with him either. He feared telling you about his feelings because he didn’t want to face rejection, and he also feared bringing you up with Sunghoon because if Sunghoon said he liked you too, then Jake wasn’t going to fight him over you. Not that you weren’t worth the fight, rather than it being your decision in the end, so the fighting would mainly hurt the friendships in the end. 

So he was stuck here. While everyone else was dancing and having fun. Jake was the only one without a date at the prom, and the only thing that felt wrong about it was you not being by his side. 

Little did he know that you felt the exact same way. Especially when you found out that Jake ended up not asking anyone to prom. You thought it would work out with your friend at least, but Jake didn’t ask her, and someone else did. And then Jake didn’t seem to even want to ask anyone at all, and when you wanted to confront him about it, he turned dismissive. 

You were having fun with Sunghoon. He was great. A bit quiet, but a very good listener — he was similar to Jake in that way. Which, after spending a bit more time with him, you noticed a lot. How both boys shared many similarities that you couldn’t help but compare. Though Jake was undeniably more bubbly, while Sunghoon was a rather brooding type of guy.

So you missed Jake. A lot. 

You missed spending all of your time with him. You missed talking to him until it was very late. You missed his laugh. And you absolutely regretted not asking him to prom. Because that was what you should have done. What should have been your first thought. Not Sunghoon, but Jake, your best friend. 

These thoughts likely projected on your face because Sunghoon noticed. He eyed you with the softest smile on his lips and a knowing glint in his eye. He caught you glancing in Jake’s direction more than once. It hurt his pride a little, since he was just a guy at the end of the day, but the other part of him was smug because, in a way, his plan was working.

But he also wanted to come up to Jake and scream at him to stop being such a coward. So he was just a bit conflicted because part of him wanted Jake to actually do something on his own — to finally act according to his feelings — while the other part of him wanted to serve it to him on a silver platter.

Why did Jake have to be such a loser (affectionately)?

“Hey, is it okay if I just… go to Jake for a bit?” you asked Sunghoon, staring up at him. He wanted to laugh at the fact you were asking him permission, but he supposed it was the nice thing to do since he was your date.

“Yeah, it’s fine.” Sunghoon nodded, stepping away from you. “I think I’ll step out for a bit. It’s getting too loud in here.” He wasn’t lying. The music and everyone around them were loud. It was overwhelming, and Sunghoon wanted to get away. This was his opportunity.

You smiled, grabbing Sunghoon’s hand to squeeze it in understanding. “Okay. Thank you.” He watched you fight through the crowd to approach Jake for a bit before making his way outside of the gymnasium.

“You look like the biggest loser ever,” you said the moment you were within Jake’s earshot. He looked up at you in surprise. The boy was dozing off on the spot, not paying attention to his surroundings anymore, rather lost in his own thoughts of self-pity.

“Hey, Y/N, why are you—”

“Sunghoon wanted to get out, and I thought you could use some company,” you explained with a grin, grabbing a chair. You sat down next to Jake, nudging his shoulder with yours. “I don’t get it.” You shook your head. “Why didn’t you ask anyone to be your date? It’s not like people would say no to you.”

Jake chuckled. “I didn’t really wanna go with anyone,” Jake answered, shrugging. “I mean, I did, but I didn’t.”

“Wow. How very logical of you.” Playfully rolling your eyes, you nudged him again, which made him look at you with those big puppy eyes of his, a thin smile decorating his lips.

“I wanted to go with you,” he admitted quietly, averting his gaze to the dancing crowd.

“Then why didn’t you ask me?” You looked at him solemnly, lips pursed. If Jake had wanted to go to prom with you this whole time, all he had to do was ask. You would always say yes. You had assumed Jake would want to have his own date, so you never even brought up the idea of going together.

“It didn’t seem like you wanted to go with me,” Jake murmured, staring at the ground.

“How would you know if you didn’t even ask me?” Your brow rose and you shook your head. 

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, dumbass, ask me for a dance,” you spoke bossily, surprising even yourself. It dawned on you now that perhaps you wanted to go with Jake too. 

Jake’s eyes widened. His heart doing somersaults in his chest. But he smirked, attempting to hide his embarrassment. “Dance with me?” he asked, standing up. Outstretching his hand toward you, he waited for you to accept it.

Grinning, you nodded. 

As you spent the rest of your prom by Jake’s side, Sunghoon never came back to find you, and you didn’t mind it at all.

[impcstcrsyndrcme]

The following post is a little rant about somethings that annoy me a little in the PJO rp scene (some happen in other fandoms too) or that my mind can't wrap around and make it make sense. Its just my opinion and in no form directed to anyone specific or trying to start drama, please don't start drama over silly shit. You've been warned. And i'm sorry in advance for the holy bible of a vent it is lol

✿ Honestly it makes no sense to me the idea that a young teen demigod, would be cabin leader if they don't show major responsibility and leadership skills over an older demigod that is there longer and have more experience. Honestly. And i don't mean that a younger person would not be responsible or could not be a good cabin leader, but they have to fit in the role or at least openly not like to be in it. It just don't make sense someone who basically don't care and it's 15-16 to be apointed leader.

✿ Other thing that bothers me a little is that is hard as fuck to find muses over 17... Like demigods can become adults and still be/stay at camp, honestly I believe this would be quite common for demigods that practically grew up at camp and don't have much experience outside besides missions. Of course I think after they have a serious relationship and plan to have kids that would change but I have a headcannon that someone would start a little village/residential area close to camp, so they can continue living in their comfort zone but with more privacy. Like maybe a place with smaller cabins or a building they'd go home to but once the day starts again, they go back to camp and basically work there.

✿ Also the amount of demigods from the big three. "Hey andy, this is a little hypocritical of you to say. You have demigods of all the big three" yeah, I know. Its just a little weird to see so many and this is just because on my old platform people prefer to keep them to a minimal because of the background of the books and all that.

✿ The last is how sometimes the characters appearance and powers don't seem to match their godly parents. Like, every god have a set of most common skills, traits and powers they pass along to their children, as in, most of their offspring will show them all or a mix of them. While they also have the more rare skills, traits and powers, that are EXCEPTIONS, so a small number of their children will have them. And there are also the things that they don't pass along or are not within their range or being, so it would not make sense that their children would have it. Like for example: poseidon kids will most of the times have green, or blue, eyes and dark hair. Or for Aphrodite's kids that most of the times are either romantic, sensual and/or care a lot about their appearance, also playing with others feelings. These are common traits, of course there are exceptions to every rule, but they should be that... Exceptions. If everyone are different, than are not exceptions anymore. That also includes how some gods don't have children at all for mythology/history reasons, like hera, hebe, artemis and hestia.

Okay those were fandom things that bothered me, but the following are specific roleplay things.

✿ I don't mind at all my partners age as far as interacting go, I don't have a DNI based on age only. But that being said, I wish people would put their age group on their blogs! And I don't mean the exact age, just a "minor" or "adult" or maybe "18+" or "21+" just so I (and others) know how to be respectful and act accordingly. I'll not send adult shit to minors and I would not feel good the other way around too. But it gets hard to do that if I dont know your age. "But andy, you can see the muse age..." Thats not the same! There is minors who have adult muses and adults who have minor muses. Its tricky when it don't need to be.

✿ I feel like a lot of people don't show interest in actually writing or roleplaying, this may be just a personal take, but if you constantly answer with only: "hm", "hi", "good"... Or half a dozen words that don't have any hook or action, thoughts, etc. If feels bad! It feels for me like you don't care or don't want to be there, like I'm the only one trying to write something with a meaning or an idea to keep going. It makes ME feel bad and I then drop the idea of interacting because it feels bad and pointless.

✿ This last point is just something I don't personally understand the appeal but I get that its just personal taste. I don't get the idea of a character blog, like it is still an online blog but as if the person behind it was the character writing on their computer the posts. I personally don't understand it, but thats just about me.

That was it I guess. Again, this is just a rant/vent about things from my end, its not personal or directed towards anyone specifically. Don't start drama! But feel free to comment here about it so we can discuss it, if you want to.

[doubleddenden]

Onto gen 7- an underrated cast of characters and gen imo. I feel like people just hate on this because of lack of gyms and more text- even though the island challenge is the best breath of fresh air we've had in years. The story is really good and the characters have so much depth- they walked so the SV cast could run and the SwSh cast could trip, cry, and pee a little

Let's start with Elio, our boy for Sun and Moon. Vanilla wise he is about as generic as you can get, looking pretty much any little boy on vacation, minus the pants- I have literally never seen pants like that in my life. They look like they'd fall down a lot. He's so generic, but thankfully there's a pretty decent character customization option- a little less than xy in some regards, but you CAN remove the hat, so that's a plus.

The sun and moon/ultra protags are confirmed to look about 11- I've seen some funny people get creative with Wicke and say "actually miss I'm in college," which is pretty fitting for the time period of release for the majority of players. This a simple callback to RBY, but I will say it's kinda sad that they took that little ambiguity away and makes it a bit harder to project yourself onto the character. Not impossible, mind you, but you gotta try a little harder vs XY or BW, especially with regular Elio here. 6/10, barely tries.

Meanwhile, his Ultra variant gets a massive improvement all around. You're still said to be around 11, but the right art can make him seem older

Like this INCREDIBLE piece done to show off Ultra Megalopolis. Elio looks anywhere between early to late teens here.

But enough about that- the in game customization doesn't see too many additions, but enough to be different. Vanilla wise, Elio looks so much more unique and fun to play as on his own. The pants and tights definitely look a bit like Nate's (and also are one of a kind last i remember, unfortunately), but Nate is a terrible design, so it's fine. The bucket hat i didn't initially get, but now that I'm older and losing hair, I've been wearing one myself, and I think it is pretty neat now. This actually looks a bit how I'd dress in the summer, and I think that's pretty great all around. 9/10 design, massive improvement on vanilla

Chicken-Chan, or Selene as people call her these days- which I think is bad right after Serena- is a hit or miss depending on your audience. I'll say, minus the hat, this design is similar to Hilda in that this is an outfit I've seen women wear often in the summer around where I grew up. The baggy shirt is really comfy looking, covers a lot while allowing a nice breeze to keep you cool. The bag- as it turns out- is supposed to be a watermelon slice, changed to avoid racial stereotyping when selected as someone with darker skin. That's kind of sad, I mean I get why, but it would have been a fun thing to have in an ideal world. As it is, it's fine. The colors definitely feel more inspired compared to Elio, very tropical and summery, looking even more like a tourist on vacation.

The design definitely reads as younger than the last few FemCs, and this is sort of the point where Game Freak really starts making the girls especially look younger and younger each gen (except Akari of course). That's not necessarily bad on its own and for those not online or aware of the skeevier side of the internet, just leads to some unfortunate "art" that gets shown everywhere that maybe wouldn't have been nearly as creepy if they left them as ambiguously aged blank slates like usual.

Weird rant aside, I think Selene is a fine enough design, and in my Moon playthrough, I had plenty of outfits to choose from- definitely more of a defined binary compared to XY, imo, but still plenty to work with. 8/10, cute, but I hate the hat

Selene's ultra variant imo is just another improvement, ditching that awful chicken hat and taking a nice sun hat instead. This is definitely something I can see worn on vacation, and the colors of a mostly orange and white just look so good- makes me think of a refreshing glass of fruit juice. The braids are also really cute, and the sandals are more or less what I think Shauna should've had instead. It's such peak tourist, I love it. 9/10, cutie, love the hat

Of course, we got Hau now, the first standalone friendly "chooses the weaker starter" rival that kind of... becomes another pattern. Actually, a lot of Gen 7 becomes a pattern for future games, including hoodlum teams with a white collar real bad guy using science for their own selfish goals, bigger pokemon than average, angrier pokemon than average, the rivals having a chip on their shoulder or being in someone's shadow, etc etc etc. That's another rant on its own.

Hau is fine, not really my favorite rival, but I do think he tries harder than people give him credit for. In SM, I especially like that he kind of has an unrequited crush on Lillie, and that drove him to be a little braver and do a couple of bigger things beyond his pay grade- it's weirdly relatable, especially the heartbreak when she leaves. Otherwise he's a chill dude, kind of unrealistic in how happy he always is, but honestly he's a peak buddy I could see myself being friends with as a kid. He's strong- maybe not scary like Blue or Silver, but you do need to actually lock in for a few fights if you aren't overleveled. Not my favorite rival, like 7 on that front, but as a friend? That's an 8.

As a design, I think it's a good one. Definitely not threatening, super safe and chill looking, even when serious. I guess that's why some people dislike him as a rival, along with his pretty laid-back and cheery personality, but as a buddy, he looks pretty zen. I'd definitely wear his fit, it's so comfy looking and perfect for the summer, minus the not-crocs. I think I'd just make those black or brown sandals instead. Colors are a nice and warm tropical feel, definitely someone who enjoys the sunlight and radiates joy like it, too. The hair, I think, should just be black, but that's not really a crime to have green hair that dark- in fact it's so minor, I forget often that it's that color. Idk man, I don't get the hate. 9/10 buddy design- as a rival, sure, maybe that's a 6 on design, but a 9 on design alone. I'd definitely want a rival that looks like they would stab me, though.

HEY, a rival that looks like he could stab me! Gladion is a very complex and edgy looking character at first glance... and second when he starts doing chuuni shit mid battle... and third when he tells you to get out of his hotel room and fourth when- you get it. But, underneath all of that, he's a guy that clearly wants to do good- he looks like he'd stab you, but a lot of the Pokemon he has on his team- both in game and anime- rely on friendship to evolve. Lucario, Crobat, especially his Silvally. You could even argue his Porygon Z is a mark of his character- not super integral to his team until the title bout, but it is the only pokemon that needs to be traded TWICE to evolve, which alone says that he's a trusting and trustworthy individual. To top it off, in the Ultra games, he even gets a (ugh) Kanto starter, which would imply that Prof Oak maybe met him and gave him one, and we know Oak is a decent judge of character.

The complexity doesn't stop there- he's mean and intimidating as a defense mechanism, out of necessity after stealing Type: Null from horrific experiments and running away from the Aether Foundation. In fact, the anime, Masters, and Ultra games really do their damn best to try and make you forget that Gladion and his sister are survivors of child abuse. Gladion especially struggles a bit with the thought that he abandoned his little sister. He knows his mother is crazy and dangerous, and yet he goes in guns blazing to rescue Nebby abd Lillie, and also is more than willing to lead the Aether Foundation in Lusamine's absence. He doesn't smile often, but it feels like a reward, knowing all the pain he's gone through for the sake of something bigger than himself.

His design even exemplifies that- the tears in his clothes are supposedly from Type: Null going out of controll and attacking him once, which he's clearly developed some sewinh skills to make look part of the vibe, as if on purpose to push others away and make people worry less about him. As a character and design, I'd give it a 9/10.

As a rival, I feel like we battle just enough to get there right at the end, but I will say that I think he should have appeared and battled more often. 7/10 on that front, because he's less of a rival and more like someone testing us constantly- which being fair, I see why.

I know what you're thinking. "Lillie isn't a rival! What's she doing here?" Well, I think any fan of gen 7 will tell you that she is just as integral to the story as you are, and thus I'd say that makes her a secondary Main Character alongside you. Plus, it'd feel weird not to include her, she's the fries to the bacon cheeseburger of the rest of the cast, and arguably the soul of the story.

Her character arc is definitely more impressive in SM than Ultra- a fellow survivor of abuse that actually wears a symbol of it: her first outfit is heavily based on Nihilego, who we know Lusamine has a very unhealthy obsession with. She's less like a little girl and more like a doll made to dress a part she didn't want. Still, her bravery is off the charts- stealing Nebby without a single other Pokemon to help her is very, very brave, especially considering she was in the heart of enemy territory.

It isn't really until she's brave enough to stand up to her own mother that she finally decides to try something new. "Z POWER" Lilly looks so much more confident and sure of herself. She's still in white with hues of baby blue, but that's her choice, and sort of paints her as a protagonist that's a blank canvas- her future finally being her own to decide. She has no Pokemon (other than Nebby and later a Clefairy), but she's still brave enough to jump into ultra space to try and rescue her mother AND tell her off. She didn't have to forgive her for anything, but she does acknowledge that her mother was under the poisonous influences of Nihilego and opts to travel and find a way to save her. Her decision to go to (ugh) Kanto on her own is such a massive step for her, and her maturity to leave Nebby in our care is something that actually made me cry the first go around.

...then ultra sm kinda... undid a lot of that, lol. Lusamine isn't regretful for a single thing she did, but gets to continue like nothing happened. It makes some sense as to why Lillie decides to just keep living with Kukui lol.

Anyways, her design is part of her story, and her story is very deep and engaging. 9/10.

Next up... oh God it's Galar again

[eelydeanwinchester]

Looking for...

Friends! Siblings, cousins, classmates, any of those sorts of dynamics. I'm 18 bodily and Australian. Dean He/Him I'm a flip with a caregiver/older brother lean I have 3 little headspaces Bee 0-6 Eel 7-12 Teen 13-20 And my default headspace of an adult caregiver Want to be friends or more? (/platonic.) check below the cut for more info on each of my spaces and their likes and dislikes!

Caregiver Headspace

I'm a very playful carer, I'm not strict on most rules I do punish my kiddos if they need it, but never corporal I can cook, I love making meals and snacks - even for the picky ones, you don't like what I made? that's fine, I'll eat it and we'll make you another one together I dress in very ranch cowboy styled outfits, the occasional grunge thrown in I do art, mostly drawings but I'm handy at DIY. I'd make you custom furniture, like a crib or a baby bouncer We'd paint your room together and your name would be on the door I love going for car rides, destination or not - we'd go on road trips a lot, you in the front picking the music if you're old enough, if not then safely in a seat in the back with plenty of snacks and car games We'd have rock out sessions, playing instruments badly and screaming songs We're a stealing family all the way, I'm not paying a chain store for the stuffy you've got your eye on if I can fit it inside my bag We're outside more than inside, even rainy days can be enjoyed outside of the house You'd get a pet if you asked, but the rules around it would be stricter

Teen Headspace

I'm laid back in my teen headspace, taking on a chill older brother vibe I'm "edgy" at this age, wearing grunge and makeup, swearing around everyone I'd punch god if he upset my little sibling I'm always out of the house, I can't stand being home - usually at the park, skating or drawing. Or at the nearby arcade, enjoying the shooters I play a lot of video games at this age, you're welcome to join me I can't cook as well as I can when adult but I can still throw together simple meals Grimm! Psych! SPN, Good Omens, High Potential! fuck yeah I'm immature, enjoying my youth, but able to step up and be the adult when needed My art style at this age is mostly semi realism sketchy pieces (shoe pic drawn by me) I'd like friends with similar interests, online or in person. We could game together and be little shits

Eel Headspace

I'm very hyper in this headspace and prone to tantrums when my feelings get too big I'm a lot less interested in art and lot more interested in critters - from worms to whale sharks I'm obsessed with eels, I'll talk your head off about them if you let me

Occasionally wear pullups in this headspace, I'll get lost in activity and forget to listen to my body I'm still somewhat in big brother mode in this headspace, I'm very gentle with kiddos younger than me and try to include them in any fun I'm having Paw patrol and Bluey! Charlie and Lola I dress in lots of bright blues, greens and orange - stereotypical young boy clothes, dinos and superheros I'm not able to do more than get simple snacks when it comes to cooking at this age, so I often prep snack platters before hand

Bee Headspace

I'm extremely clingy and sensitive in this headspace, reliant on my caregiver My interest for art comes back with a passion, though I can't do more than simple colouring pages I don't actually like bees all that much but they're my daddy's favourite so little me is a bee baby My nursery is covered in Winnie the Pooh but my toys are a mix of a ton of interests Always padded in this headspace, not old enough to listen to my body I wear bright pastels and more "fem" clothing at this age because I just don't care about presenting and the pastel stuff suits the baby bee theme

Thank you for reading! Reach out if you want to be friends

I have caregivers, I do not want more

[rabbitshat]

I have such a devious little idea, imagine with me if you will.

RiseTMNT and Arcane AU

Theres no Rise Mystic/Magic, its all Arcane cannon magic

The hidden city becomes the Undercity/Zaun and NewYork is replaced by Piltover.

Humans are first class citizens, Yokai live in the Undercity as second class citizens and Mutants are third class.

Donnie(20) my beloved with spinal issues bcs of some accident in his youth working his ass off to gain footing in Piltover and trying to make the world a better place for the people in the Undercity(a Viktor replacement in a way). He left the Undercity about five years ago.

The rest of the turtles have to steal from humans, as one does, to survive. But when that stops being a reliable source of money for food (necessities in the Undercity are suuuper over priced, even to Piltover standars, but what are they gonna do? Go up top and buy there? Thats a joke.) Raph(23) goes to work for Big Mama and gains her as a patron in a way. Hes still massive and a scary bastard, he has a side hustle in the BloodDome as one of its best fighters.

Leo's(20) leader of the Firelights, a real revolutionary that one. After Raph started to work for BigMama, Leo took the reigns as Mike's(17) big bro. He started to gain a sort of street rep similar to Raph's, but in a much more "family man" kind of way. He is known to have loyalty that kills, the family comes first and if someone --even if they themselves are a part of the family-- threatens his family (especially the younger ones) they will face a painful death.

Mike's(17) know as the Icarus but simultaneously the Sun of the Undercity. He's a dreamer and almost all teens his age in the city love to hate him. The kids love him and his art of course, he even might teach you how to run the rooftops. But the teens hate how untouched by the cruel life in the Undercity he seems, there's a lot of prejudice in those thoughts in the "how dare a mutant be so care free". Of course they cant really DO anything to him, what with Leo and Raph's reputations on the streets (even if BigRed isnt around all that much) but they go to extreme lengths to ostracize him.

Splinter, a very reputable and beloved Council member that got mutated by ~mysterious circumstances~ that runs away to the Undercity only to find the four brothers.

Imagine with me, Donnie on the bridge that connects the Undercity Leo beside him begging him to cone home. He tells him how isolated Mike is, how Raph has been working and fighting for BigMama. How he needs to just come home so they can finally be a family again. A lie he knows all too well, he tells it to himself everytime he catches a glance of Raph on the more seedy parts of the Undercity standing over a beat up yokai, the pink glow of BigMama's drug enhancements reflecting off the alley's walls. He repeats it every time he sees the other teens ridicule Mike as if he were some sort of vermin.

If Donnie, his brother, his twin just comes home everything will be ok again. Its been so long and his back looks so much worse, and please just leave it all behind and come home.

Its an unfair ask, he knows that, its selfish but he cant do this anymore.

"I cant, i have a lot left to do still. I promised you id only go back when i found a way to make life better for everyone. And i did! I just need time-"

"How much time do you STILL need Donnie?! Its been five years! Mike's not a little kid anymore- hes seventeen! I almost cant recognize Raph anymore, Dad's gone and it feels like im losing YOU. What? Do you think you fit better up here?! Are you better than us now that you 'made it' up here?! Are you one of the good ones just because you have something to give them?!"

Its an ugly fight, words were said and their already fragile bond feels like someone took a serrated bread knife and cut into it a thousand times.

Leo has never wanted to die more than the day the news of the Council being blown up reaches his ears, the day the people of Zaun celebrated the start of a battle for freedom. The day he thought his brother was dead and the last thing they did together was fight.

(I haven't watched the new Arcane season but im very exited to lol)

[pinktsukki]

i have yeager brainrot *⁠.⁠✧

can't stop thinking about the brothers having a normal family with a (not really) wholesome life in a modern au! thingie so headcanons !

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

★ I don't think Dina should be 💀 (too sad can't have that) Grisha divorced her cause it didn't work and later met Carla and they fell in love <3

★ I just want Carla to adopt Zeke and be the mom he deserves!!!

★ Grisha and Carla would often be busy working so Tom Ksaver a really nice neighbor would offer to babysit Zeke, playing baseball with him and all that.

★Then Carla gets pregnant with Eren! just imagine the excitement in Zeke finding out he would have a brother, he would say something like "i'll teach him how to play baseball and I'll take care of him!!" baby 😭

★ I don't think Grisha would be the best of a father though (here comes the angst) ofc it wouldn't be THAT bad as it is in the canon but daddy issues give the yeager's character so I can't that away from them (at least i gave them a mom)

★ Since Eren was now born Grisha was the only one Working and having to bring more money to home so he was away a lot for the most part of his kids childhood and things started to get rocky as soon as Zeke was a teen

★ And maaaaybe it was because Grisha paid more attention to Eren in some ways since he was little.

★ I just imagine Grisha as one of those parents that are there but not emotionally involved with their kid, pays for stuff, although forgets about birthdays and special events (self indulgence moment) It's not that he doesn't love his kids but it feels like it sometimes.

★ Zeke's relationship with Carla wouldn't be bad but he would think that she loves more Eren since he's her biological son, although Carla would make everything what's on her hand to not make Zeke feel like that, she doesn't feel that way towards him either.

★ The brothers grew up close but as Zeke started to get older he distanced a little from his family, and poor baby (now a kid) Eren would knock on Zeke's door just wanting to play with his big bro while he's just in bed being an annoyed teenager tossing a ball towards the ceiling and then catching it with one hand.

★ He grew up playing baseball in a local team then dropped it as a teen.

★ He probably started smoking around this age too (16 or so) to fit more into the rebellious teenager persona.

★ However he wouldn't give that much of hard time, he would do great in school and would try to avoid conflict, inside of him he would just want to make his dad proud just to hear a "good job" from him, even a hug.

★ On the other side i think the real trouble would be Eren.

★ Coming back to Grisha not being the best dad, things would repeat and as Eren grew up he would get less involved with his kid.

★ But Eren wouldn't be like his brother at all, he would fight back, get into arguments with his family regularly, skip classes, fail them even, the overall rebellious teen thingy, i don't think it would be soooo bad, just his parents trying to explain that he is doing things wrong but him not listening and making a scene and complaining about them not letting him be free!!!.

★ Grisha and Carla would give up at some point letting Eren do his thing, that would usually be playing games ,spend time with with friends and smoke 🍃

★ Once in a while he would feel bad about his behavior mostly because of his mom, he knows his father being an asshole sometimes is not her fault, and he would go silently to apologize to her and be a mama's boy.

★ Carla would hug him and tell him that it's fine and that they love him nonetheless.

★ With his conscience clear he would roll one up because he is convinced that he deserves it (this man??)

★ Armin and Mikasa being his childhood friends would try to keep him with his feet on the earth when they feel he's getting too lost.

★ Armin and Zeke would get along really great and the younger would see him as a fraternal figure too.

★ I imagine the relationship between Eren and Zeke like a totally realistic and healthy brother brother relationship, they can't stand each other but are best mates and love each other (i don't really know i don't have siblings)

★ Eren coming home from School just to tell Zeke to play some videogame have an amazing time then not talk for a week.

★ I also think they would smoke 🍃 together sometimes. Eren would be smoking in his room with towel at the bottom of the door, then he almost throws the joint out the window as he hears a knock on the door (he is not allowed to smoke inside ofc) but just as he hears Zeke's "it's just me" he relaxes and let's him in.

★ Zeke would ask for some puffs or something and they would end up on Eren's bed looking at the ceiling and getting sensitive and philosophical talking about ife, the only time they would actually show affection towards each other.

★ If Zeke asks for some puffs once in a while, Eren asks him for cigarettes constantly, and just to mix the 🍃 with.

★ Zeke is definitely more caring towards Eren overall (big bro thingies i guess)

★ They will totally team up against their dad A LOT and have each other's back. Grisha would be scolding Eren for something and Zeke would nonchalantly get into the argument to defend Eren just to piss his dad, and Eren would just be like "look! It's not my fault even Zeke says so!!!" and then Carla would scold all of them and it would actually work.

★ As they became adults they both started to look much more like grisha, especially Eren.

★ At first sight they don't really look like each other, but it's just because Zeke's beard, if he shaved it would actually be much more obvious that they are related.

★ Eren likes to annoy Zeke saying that maybe he would be the pretty sibling if he shaves.

★ Zeke would start working as a bartender or something like that to try and help bringing money at home but probably would try to achieve something bigger like resuming baseball to be a coach or something like that.

★ And i picture Eren taking whatever job his brother previously left or ending up as a dealer (it's funny to me okay?)

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Sorry if this is kinda a mess! I'm not used to writing and putting my thoughts together like this and i feel like i can go on and on and on and forever about this so that's all <3

[softantlers]

The adult characters really do lack that good gender fuckery that's present in their teen versions. Like, yes, teen Nat has femme touches, but I can't see her growing up to regularly wear heels & flowery tops, & it was honestly distracting with how wrong it felt. Teen Lottie pre-crash was femme with a little edge (those docs!), but she's got such an androgyny to her in the wilderness that does not carry over into her endless collection of silk caftans. Shauna still got her flannels but it's a totally different vibe. I guess a reasonable explanation is that returning to the real world forced them back into the box of gendered expectations, especially as they got older

nat, lottie, & shauna gender dissonance meta

OKAY. i am here, and i am WITH YOU, anon. (lottie voice) no one else in the world but YOU right now. (you--i think--sent a couple fun gender asks, so i will do my best not to lose the plot as i get through them.)

i think there's a couple things to what you've mentioned here that are super insightful, and i'm gonna try to drag them out with my teeth (if you don't mind):

gender restraint & the adult cast

the first is the notion that returning to the real world forced the yellowjackets back into a box of gender expectations. i agree- i think this definitely had an effect (especially in the case of shauna & comphet), but i also maybe will push some meta commentary here that i think we're seeing a dynamic outside of the story altogether-- it's also the tension between actors of different ages attempting to play the same character.

nowadays, gender fluidity and fucky expression is still oppressed in many ways but also more permissible than when the adult cast were younger. you can find pics of almost all the teen cast pulling some masc shit (and looking hot!) but that just wasn't expected of younger actresses during the heyday of the adult cast... so, i think there's an element of the actors having personal relationships (and restraints) around gender that allows the teen cast to get a bit more fucky with it than i think the adult cast is naturally willing to be. and i don't know what else to say about that, except that i do think it's a hinderance to characterization and one of the sources of dissonance between the timelines. but like? it's not avoidable either.

but yeah, to get at some gender thoughts between the teen and adult characters, i'll kind of move through the ones you mentioned:

teen natalie

so if we accept that the wilderness exerts its own control over the gender expression of the yellowjackets (due to literal lack of clothes & the survivalism interfering with these kind of concerns altogether) and we also accept that there are some limitations on actualizing gender in the adult timeline- i would say that nat's outfit at the pilot party is probably the most faithful representation of her "authentic" gender. (sidebar: i wouldn't say that's true of all the girls at the party. the only ones i actually think it's true of are nat, taivan, and i suppose laura lee. everyone else is sort of trying to meet an expectation imo.)

in any case, we have reason to believe this is an authentic representation of nat's gender expression because one thing we know about nat from our saint & savior jackie taylor is that nat is always herself. i don't know if i agree that jackie's compliment is universally accurate (i think nat conceals a lot), but i will agree that it's true in the case of style. even in the wilderness, nat's actualizing her style with limited resources. and it's generally very androgynous.

but yeah as far as the pilot outfit goes? this fit is andro as fuck. like yes we got the ripped fishnets and the short plaid skirt, but we also got the oversized dagger collar, the combat boots, and the jacket giving everything a square vibe up top that masks her chest. i don't think it's a fluke that nat goes on to keep up these kinds of looks that mesh masculinity and femininity throughout the intervening seasons of the show. i actually think she is one of the only teen characters who is taking a stab at getting as close as possible to her outside-world gender expression in the wilderness. (they may share clothes but no one wears nat's leather jacket except NAT, for example. also the fuckass hairband? andro goooood.)

at a certain point, i wondered if this was just sophie thatcher coming through, but after seeing her in interviews, i'm confident it's really not. soapy is doing something with her voice, mannerisms, and stylistic choices (especially in s3) that's unique to nat. and it's pretty andro. but as we've discussed one of the points of dissonance (in a meta way) is that JL's version of nat has a different gender (in the way that cis women can have different genders from each other). i think her outfits strike off because they're not really teen nat. they are fem. (and made explicitly more so through mannerism than even the outfits themselves.) and that's fine--JL's playing *an interesting character*--but i don't think that character has the same gender as nat.

teen lottie

i'm going to copy-paste some stuff i wrote earlier about teen lottie, acknowledging that a lot of people are probably gonna disagree with me, but!! whatever!!

so the first representation of lottie's gender expression we get outside of the crash and the limitation on clothes in the wilderness is at the party with her hostess snowball getup. we also get a few flashes of her in clothes (that never show up again???) immediate post-crash.

tbh i think lottie's style pre-crash (just like put aside the adult timeline-- we don't go there right now) feels very put-upon. like i know there's a lot of "fashionista" hc's about lottie and i see where they come from, but when i think of her as this weird isolated girl with rich parents who steals from tj maxx, i can't help but see that as her literally pulling curated shit right off mannequins and trying it on. i even think about the stealing as a sort of method to do that, putting on identities almost? seeing if they stick? because she feels unmoored to her identity because she's always been told that she's wrong--that her mental health is wrong, but at the end of the day... that's her too. so it's like... what if i try this on? will this make me right? (me over-analyzing and projecting but there could be some mixed race fuckshit swirling around that as well.)

also in the teen timeline, lottie's style changes and settles post-crash into being very much... what's around? she wears the same ass dress (laura lee's?) and the same ass furs between the spring and winter. yeah her doomcoming outfit is peak, but i'm not even trying to say she doesn't understand style. lottie does. it's just kind of... academic. i'm not sure that i think teen lottie has the sort of innate tastes that are assumed of her though. to me, it feels like she's going through the motions and trying to be something when she wears her pre-crash getups because i think the isolation of her mental health, her upbringing, etc. makes her feel like nothing. clothes are an outlet for that and tbh idk if her picks even really suit her. (like the pink outfit in the pilot is PEAK, but it also doesn't feel like lottie at all. AND it not feeling like lottie and not suiting her does feel like lottie??)

BUT that isn't to say all of lottie's gender expression is inauthentic or passive. there are aspects of her appearance that seem more intentionally placed? like her pink-laced docs are so unique and they absolutely don't go with most of the stuff she's wearing. i think that is lottie. the fact that they end up in pretty much every outfit (pre and post wilderness) make me have this sense that they're "stuck" to her. this is actually a gendered thing, something she likes, something that maybe feels good?

pink-laced docs have a bit of a riot girl vibe that's like you said-- femme with a little edge + it gets matched to lottie's abject disregard for clothing in the wilderness in a way that comes off a little andro. in that sense, with regard to gender, i just see teen lottie being a lot less invested, almost a little agender in her expression (besides the docs), that doesn't translate into the adult timeline well. i think i could be down with the endless kaftans if they were treated more academically??? like lottie having a knowledge of what's nice appeals to me, but an actual appreciation? i think the stealing proves that she actually doesn't have that much respect for clothes or their value tbh. it would have been fun to see that ambivalence make it to the adult timeline, but i think this is another moment of adult actor dissonance? because i think simone kessell's lottie is very appreciative of the "finer things" in a not put-upon way, but idk-- that's not how i view teen lottie. i view teen lottie as playing a role. so, kinda the same with nat... a good character! a different gender!!

teen shauna

god, teen shauna is so fucking interesting. in season 1, what we get of her style is the flannels but they're sort of... loser poet girl? they're not exactly masc yet imo.

what we also get is her outfit at the party, which we know was picked out for her by jackie and is the "boob dress."

an interesting thing about that dress. if you look in the above gif, you can see how tightly shauna is hugging herself. she's not letting them boobs out! in a way, she's compressing herself and hiding her chest with her denim top. she seems to be uncomfortable leaning into the boob dress (and the femininity of it).

teen shauna fucks with layers a lot post-crash, and these layers invariably hide her chest. (this gets way more obvious in season 3 alongside her "mascification" if you will.)

meanwhile, adult shauna sort of strives for some similar looks. but they sort of... stay fem? like, there's something just a shit-ton softer here than what teen shauna is doing:

and to be perfectly honest??? she's not hiding her tits! not trying to be weird here, but there is something... going on with teen shauna on that front, and i think the sort of comfort with which melanie moves (which, i mean, GOOD FOR HER, her tits are great) is sort of at odds with perhaps a little dysphoria around femininity that teen shauna seems to show? this could be a ton of different things-- a gender thing (re: mascification) or simply the distress of giving birth and the trauma of lactation following a miscarriage. all that to say, it's just another area of dissonance between the characters when it comes to gender expression... like melanie's shauna is giving soccer mom & i'm not sure that she's always tapping into the coldness & like... almost resentment (?) that shauna seems to be show toward femininity in the teen timeline.

literally, i'm not even sure what i'm trying to say with this meta, but i guess what i'm trying to get across is that... if you think the show is maybe struggling to execute consistent expressions of gender across timelines in a believable way, you are probably right!! putting aside the ageism of it all, i think people struggle to square the timelines for other reasons, and gender??? it's a huge thing that i don't really see talked about much.

[bitethedevil]

I can’t remember who reblogged that new Raphael mod so apologies if you haven’t seen it, but I was very disturbed by it. I’m talking about the “deaging” one that I assume was made by a teenager. I don’t understand how people can claim to like a character and then want to make them “younger/prettier”. All those mods, like the ones for Astarion and Gortash look awful to me. I saw that people were trying to have an interesting discussion in the comments of the post about maybe that’s how Raphael really looks since he’s immortal and could have stopped aging. But I wanted to ask them if they’ve seen a representation of Odin ever. Being immortal doesn’t necessarily mean looking like a bland pretty boy. Is this a Draco Malfoy twink thing? Do you have a better idea of what the appeal of this is, because I really don’t get it.

Interesting question! I think I know the post you are talking about. I don’t really ‘mod-shame’ (is that a term?). People can do whatever and it doesn’t affect me. That being said I do kind of agree with you, it is sad, and I think, some of it at least, might stem from a place of ageism. Maybe also the fact that some people have gotten so used to videogames and animation that they forget what actual people look like when a game more realistically portrays someone, if that even makes sense?

I also just think that some of the people liking those mods are very young themselves and might feel odd about their favorite characters looking older. Like that age where you are in denial and ashamed about liking characters who look old enough to be your parent (I remember that vividly at least. Maybe it’s just me idek). I really cannot imagine any grown-up person thinking it’s necessary to remove wrinkles on characters. Perhaps I’m just naïve but I have always suspected it’s just teens who do it. We’ve all been there.

That said, I do think there is some truth to what people are saying about him looking older on purpose! If I recall correctly, cambions stop aging around 20-30 ish and I thiiiink it’s the same for other devils? They just choose to look older to be taken more seriously. Even good ol’ Mephistopheles have like three different forms, so it’s not uncommon in the Hells to be very particular about their appearance.

I’m also coincidentally a Norse Pagan (the inclusive and reconstructionist kind, and not the n*zi-dickheads-who-likes-to-play-vikings kind, obviously) and I think Odin actually does the same thing. The Norse gods aren’t “true” immortals. They just munch on apples that prolong their lives, but they do eventually die, and they do age. Odin appears like a lot of different people, and I wouldn’t put it past him to just look old because it fits his wise, all-father persona. He is dramatic like that, much like our dear Raphie boy. (Which is completely unrelated to your point, I’m just a fucking nerd who can’t help myself when people talk about stuff I’m interested)

(Thank you for the ask <3)

[honey-minded-hivemind]

For the X-Men/Gargoyles AU (where the X-Men are set in a Gargoyles-esque universe, but they take the place of those characters), I think I've figured out the new dynamics. This is different from the Gargoyles series, because trying to fit a few X-Men into one character's place was very difficult. So what did I do? Changed it around a bit.

Let's look at it this way:

Logan/Wolverine and Ororo/Storm take the place of Goliath, being a couple or good friends, while Victor/Sabretooth and Raven/Mystique take the place of Demona. So each pair is a friend to the other or a sibling, but aren't romantic. So, Logan and Victor are brothers, Ororo and Raven are sisters, but Logan and Ororo are really good friends or mates, and Victor and Raven are really good friends or mates. Take your pick.

Xavier becomes David Xanatos, and Magneto becomes a mix of Owen Burnett/Puck and Fox, and surprise, they're reincarnated gargoyles this go (which wasn't in the show, but this is my au, so it goes).They're like a cool, mysterious older couple, who always seem to know something Reader doesn't (they know a lot of things they don't, but they'll reveal everything in due time...) (Victor and Raven know, too, and it's the one reason they haven't tried to kill Reader... with the information they have, why would they?)

Hank/Beast takes the place of Hudson, Gambit takes the place of Brooklyn, Kurt takes the place of Broadway, Evan takes the place of Lexington... Bronx, I'm not sure if any of the X-Men had a pet (I'm using X-Men Evolution for this, by the way), so I guess I can add an extra teen... so let's go with... Kitty (why not?).

Reader takes a new role, which is... different to Elisa's. They do some detective work, possibly, but as a teen, maybe. Or maybe they're an assistant to Xavier. They could just be some random person who happened to stumble into all of this. But they take the main character role, I guess, who isn't a gargoyle (they were one in a past life, though, so do with that what you will)

Scott and Jean take the place of Matt Bluestone as well as Coldstone and Coldfire. They're Reader's older friends, (and are the reincarnated spirits of two of the long dead gargoyles from the Wyvern Clan Massacre). Rogue is also their friend, and is like a mix of Morgan the cop, the chief of police, and Elisa's family... (maybe she is related to Reader? maybe not? and she is Kurt's long dead sister reincarnated... so that makes her Raven's daughter, but a human in this new life).

Lance, Todd/Toad, Fred, Pietro, and Wanda are here, too. They might be a version of the Pack (a kid/teen version), they could be a gang similar to one in the series, maybe they're just also random people dragged into this mess. They are there, and that's that.

Now, I say this would have it's own 🌕Longest Night❄ AU, which would be where the adult gargoyles (the reincarnated ones too) are affected by a magical artifact, during the long nights of Winter, and go about surprise adopting (kidnapping) their reincarnated kids... And their gargoyle kids are affected too, but are in a hatchling/younger state of mind. So they aren't going to be much help to Reader or the others. Let's just hope the long nights ahead don't last... And if they do, how do they stop them?

(Ask any questions you want about this au, I'm working on it right now, the Haunted Mansion AU on a break while I work out the main au branch...)

[windalchemist001]

Wondertober 2024- Day 14: candy or treat

npc/ oc: Sakhr Qadir, morden day King of thevies or king for short aka chaim al-asim

Sakhr chuckled as he spun pouch with one hand. He had manged to get enough thaumark to but a horse, maybe he should get one, after all his bike got fucked up by the damn cops.

Putting the pouch in his inner jacket pocket as he step into the threshold of the hide out his mind still just thinking about it the events of that day, and it ticked him off, after all the amount of bullshit that happened right after the other was fucken asinine!

First someone not only manged to call the cops on him but these fuckers seemed to be highly trained and not the normal idoits he was use to dealing with.

Two when he manged to escape and get on his bike they shot at him making him drop his loot and they got his bike making it hard to drive after a point.

Thrid he crashed said bike when taking a sharp corner and he was thrown off said bike and some how he found himself thrown into a bunch of ropes that had him tangled upside down like laundry.

Four he had to be saved by that hooded brat "king"

Five he had been forced to see some guy to fix him up.by that stupid bird that belongs to "king"

And lastly he was again show up by that ass hole, cause not only did king slam down a sack of money (more than he had) but drag him back to the hideout. After the doctors visit to get him patched up.

He spat off to the side, at least he dodnt have to deal with that bullshit. Or so he thought because the moment he ended up in the main chamber he saw the table where everyone puts their loot filled with food and a chest.

Everyone of the guys were hovering around the table were also stuffing their faces with food and seeming to be chating till they saw him. And begin speaking though sakhr couldn't understand them while they spook with their face stuffed with food.

Snarling he was half tempted to punch the idoit in the gut. "Spit out the crap in your mouth or at least wait till you're not trying to fucken talk around it."

"/oh come on sakhr, its Halloween, a time to celebrate and have fun./" the voice came from the darkness but sakhr didn't turn after all who knows where "king" truly was.

And it proved his point when an arm wrapped around his shoulder. And the voice from the opposite side spoke. "/And I figure i would return just long enough to make sure you lot have a filling meal with some good sweets on the side/"

Clicking his tounge he wanted to shove "king's" arm off him but he knew everyone was watching their interaction between him and the shorter male. And they were somewhat important in keeping order with their large group. Since if they fought to much in what isn't seen in a friendly banter sort of way it could cause trouble.

Still didn't mean he couldn't be fucken annoyed with everything. "Are you sure you're not really a woman under those clothes?" He snapped and it seems "king" didn't like it.

"/I am in fact a man, we both know that./"

Sakhr rolled his eye. "Do we? You've always wore that whole get up so we can't really tell what your figure is." He could hear the others that were in the room in agreement with him.

And with a snap decision the teen moved to pull the smaller teen close by the waist and sakhr couldn't help but enjoy the shock and fear that flashed across the "king's" eyes (later when this was all done and he was going to bed he would remark to himself how the younger's eyes were the red color of the sky in the setting sun)

"Oh look at that you have such a small body you fit beside me, almost like a woman." He laughed as did the others in the room but sakhr winced as he got hit in the gut and king too the slight losing of his hands to slip out of his grip.

"King" had quickly moved up a good distance on to the second part of the floor the bird which had been somewhere flew to land on "king's" shoulder.

"/I think its time I head back before it gets to late. So if you excuse me./" and with a flerish of a cape "king" disappeared into the darkness of the many tunnels of thir hideout. And sakhr already knew looking for the other would be useless since when "king" announced he was leaving he would be gone and no amount of looking would have him turn up unless "king" wanted to be spotted.

Pushing that way sakhr went to grab his loot to show off but the moment he pulled out the pouch he noticed it wasn't the same one. Quickly opening it he found sour candies and that one exclusive sweet that they only sale for Halloween down at the market, that he's been wanting to taste since last year.

But the anger that filled him as he took the pouch and tossed it to the wall spilling candy everywhere, the others begin laughing already figuring what happened it seems.

"Shut up!" He snarled at the guys, as the kept laughing, before someone manged to speak between laughter and asked how much he lost to "king"

Sakhr snarled at the group. "None of your business." He stop over to where the pouch hit the wall and snatched it still had some candy inside it and that rare treat from the weight of it and he could hear the others snickering but he stomp over to the table and snatched what looked to be lamb stew before heading to his room.

Honestly he was annoyed and decided he was going to just eat plan to get back at "king" some other time, for now he can enjoy the candy and the stew that happened to be his favorite.

[catreginae]

The Chance to See You Again - Chapter Three

This chapter… it gave me so many problems. I'm so glad it's finally done, though.

[Chapter One] - [Chapter Two] - [Chapter Three]

When a dark, swirling portal appeared nearly two decades after he fought in a war, Link hoped for the best. It wasn't like the portal that whisked him from his home and straight into a battlefield when he was younger, but a portal was a chance that maybe, a familiar face was waiting for him on the other side.

At least this time, the goddesses waited until he was an adult.

He paused, took a deep breath, and stepped inside.

He stepped out into a raging storm. He looked behind him and found that the portal disappeared behind him. Link bowed his head down to try and keep the rain out of his eyes, picked a direction, and walked. Thankfully, he didn't have to walk far before he came across a strange, horse-shaped tent and he didn't hesitate to get under the canopy and out of the rain.

The tent was surprisingly spacious. There were some beds, a table with some chairs, and even some sort of sign for a recipe. There was a teen sitting on the table, eating from a bowl, and when their eyes met, the teen simply blinked in confusion. He set the bowl down, jumped to his feet, and slowly approached.

��I haven't seen you before,” somebody said. As the teen approached, Link could see the scars that wrapped around the left side of his face and neck. It seemed like both of them were going to get lots of attention, with the teen's scars and Link's own scar bisecting his eye. What an odd pair they made.

“I'm... new.”

The teen studied his face intently, his eyes slowly running over his body. Link didn't know what he was looking for but whatever he was looking for, he seemed to satisfied because he held out a hand. “I'm Link.”

“Hello, Link. My name is Link,” Time said with a smirk as he took the teen's hand. The other Link blinked at him.

“Huh... Not the weirdest day in my life.”

Time chucked quiet and shook his head. “Nor is it mine.”

× × × × × × × × × × × × × × × × × ×

If the captain could see him now, he would laugh and said he deserved what he got. After three weeks of travelling through different portals, he managed to collect seven other boys named Link in total, necessitating the use of nicknames after he found himself in a party of three Links (including himself). For the most part, the other seven didn't get into too much trouble, but it was enough trouble to make Link almost feel bad for all the running around he made the captain do.

Link became Time, after his hero title. An odd name, but hey, it wasn't like he was a stranger to odd things.

They were still wary of each other, for the most part. Time could see where they were still gauging and studying each other. They were all nice to each other of course, and they could work together well enough, but they were still a little guarded. Time was sure the more time they spent together, the more those walls would come down, and they would actually be comfortable around each other.

But there was somebody missing. The captain wasn't among their ranks.

At first, Time thought that they just haven't found him yet and one day, a portal would appear that would lead to them to the missing Link. So far, they picked up the last of hero of their group, Twilight, a week ago and that was so far the longest they've gone without a new hero. Either the goddesses didn't see the captain fit enough for their quest, an outrageous assertion in Time's opinion, or there wasn't another hero for the goddesses to pick. He didn't want to entertain either thought.

Instead, he chose to focus on the boys he did have than the one he knew he was missing. They needed some guidance. They needed somebody to take control and lead. Time was the oldest, both physically and mentally thanks to the constant three-day cycles he lived through, so naturally everybody was already looking to him for that kind of guidance. Link would have been invaluable in a situation like this, but he wasn't there, so the best Time could do was try to emulate the leadership that seemed to come so easily to him. It felt daunting but he had to do it. Somebody had to.

× × × × × × × × × × × × × × × × × ×

It took an entire two weeks before a portal opened and they landed in a Hyrule that was vaguely familiar to Time, but apparently not at all recognizable to the others. Time kept his expectations low though. He didn't want to get excited, only to be let down when the situation wasn't what he thought it was. He would keep an open mind, but he wasn't going to let himself get disappointed.

They quickly located a dirt road and began to follow it. It had to lead somewhere eventually. It wasn't just a path, it was a road. Clearly, it was well used.

It didn't take them long for that road to lead to a structure made of grey bricks – a fort, his mind supplied – that was under attack. The sheer number of monsters was overwhelming the soldiers that bore a very familiar uniform, but that was all Time registered before he and the other boys jumped into the action, needing nothing more than to see that there were people who needed help.

The uniform was familiar. He didn't know the faces but he knew the uniforms. Everything looked familiar but somehow out of reach, just dancing at the edges of his memories.

“LINK!” A voice like a wind chime. A fairy.

He knew where he was. Time didn't waste a second. He ran towards Proxi's voice, pushing his aging and heavily covered armoured body to go as fast as it could. He watched as a man in blue and green clutched his abdomen as the sword he was holding fell out of his hand. Proxi flew around him in a panic as Link, his brother, fell to his knees, seemingly unable to lift a hand to defend himself against a moblin that held a bloodstained sword over his head.

With a growl, Time swung his sword and cut the beast in half. Link looked at him in confusion as he fell to his side.

Time dropped his sword and was on his knees in an instant, holding pressure on the growing, red splotch in Link's tunic. He turned the captain to his back, as it was easier for him to hold pressure that way. He just got an answer to the question that plagued him for a good two decades and now there was the chance to lose him again. If he was brought here just to watch him die, he was marching the boys to wherever the goddesses were and he was going to have a stern Talking To with them. He had a lot of practice with lectures lately, so he was well prepared to yell at the goddesses if it came down to that.

“We need a fairy or a potion here!” Time called out, hoping one of them was close enough to hear him.

Link's eyes were half-lidded but he managed to focus his eyes upward towards Time's face. The captain tried to get up but Time moved his hand to stop him, but it wasn't difficult to stop him thanks to his injuries.

“...Mask?”

“Shh, save your strength. I'm not going anywhere this time.”

The captain opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it as he let himself relax instead, his eyes instead studying Time's face. His gaze was surprisingly intense for somebody who was actively bleeding from a stab wound.

“Link, just relax,” Proxi said quietly, hovering around his face. “Everything will be fine now.”

“I'm here!” Wind shouted as he dropped to his knees by their side, uncorking a bottle of red potion. Time helped Link up to a sitting position just as Wind brought the bottle to his lips and tipped it. The captain managed to drink about half the bottle before he closed his eyes and went limp in Time's arms.

“Link! C'mon, wake up, you gotta drink some more!” Proxi cried out, pressing a tiny hand on his nose.

“Link?” Wind whispered, only loud enough for Time to hear. He looked at Time with quirked eyebrows and wide eyes.

“Later,” Time whispered back. “Proxi, he had enough for now. He'll need more when he wakes up, but for now, we should let him rest. Wind, how did everybody else do?” he asked, once he realized that he couldn't hear the roar of the battle anymore.

“I think we're all fine. I saw Hyrule and Sky helping out some of the wounded knights already. It's a good thing we arrived when we did.”

“Good. Let's get the captain somewhere to rest, and then we'll figure out to proceed from there.”

× × × × × × × × × × × × × × × × × ×

Time meant to explain his past with the captain before they all went out to meet him, but instead, once he and the rest of the Links were introduced to a corner of the barracks in the fort that was made private with some heavy curtains, they split up the four bunks and went to sleep. It was a little late when they first arrived, so by the time they were taken to the barracks, it was nearly sundown. Normally, they would stay awake longer, organize watches, and cook dinner, but clearly they were all exhausted if nobody complained about not having dinner.

So when Proxi woke him up in the morning, saying that Link was awake, he didn't wait to go see him. He was vaguely aware of the others following behind him, but he was more focused on following Proxi through the confusing layout of the fort.

The first thing Time did when he walked into Link's room was give him a tight hug. It was a little awkward, since Link was sitting on his cot and Time's feet were on the floor, but he made it work. He wanted to give this man a hug for decades.

“Ah! Not so hard! I'm still sore. How are you so big and strong now? This is unfair!” Link exclaimed.

“You two knew each other before?” Twilight asked, his eyes wide. Time let him go and stepped back, and that's when Proxi finally settled on one his shoulders. Link was still kind of pale, but he was significantly better than the last two times he saw him – bleeding out on the battlefield the previous day and burning with fever decades earlier. Well, decades to him. Link looked to be about the same, so it might have only been a couple of years for him, if that.

“Yeah, except he was a lot younger than he is right now,” Link said with a chuckle. “He was pretty cute too, until he stole my clothes while I was bathing and forced me to run across camp with nothing but a towel on.”

“He what?” Wild asked, his grin stretching from ear to ear.

“I was ten, for the record,” Time muttered.

“He also once hid all of Link's left boots and socks. Link just sat in his tent and stared at the tent walls because it threw him off and he couldn't get back on track,” Proxi chirped from his shoulder.

“You've got to teach me your ways, Time,” Wind added.

“Anyway, who are your new friends?” Link asked, waving his hand to dismiss the topic. “I'm assuming somebody's messing around with time again if you came back.”

“Well, you're not wrong,” Legend said, planting his hands on his hips. “Some sort of shadow is creating portals, moving monsters around, and somehow enhancing them by doing something to their blood. We're always a couple steps behind and we still don't know what it's trying to do.”

“Definitely sounds like something I would have to get involved in. I wouldn't be surprised if that shadow had something to do with that battle yesterday. We have scouts here and they didn't see anything just hours before they were on us. With an ambush that big, we would have seen them coming and had some time to prepare, but we only had time to grab a weapon and close the gates.”

“The Princess will understand if you have to go,” Proxi said with a nod. “The other captain already sent messengers to the castle, so I imagine she'll come herself if we give her some time.”

“We can probably wait,” Time answer. “The portals don't usually come back right away.”

“I'll need a few days before I'm battle ready anyway,” Link said with a shrug. At least this time, he was being careful. In fact, he barely moved since Time let him go.

“Boys, you mind if I spoke with Link alone?”

Without question, they filed out. Proxi looked between them and then at Link.

“You can stay, Proxi. It's about... when you had to leave, right?”

“If I had a choice or say in the matter, I wouldn't have left when I did. I wanted to make sure that you were better first. I didn't want to leave when you were still so sick. I knew I had to go home eventually, but I...” he paused, searching his mind for the right words. He barely said anything and his eyes were already beginning to sting. “I thought I would get to say goodbye when I did. I never thought I would have to leave and not even know if you ever woke up.”

Link took a deep breath and he focused his gaze on his blanket instead, wringing it in his hands.

“They told me it was touch and go for a while. Zelda said that our fastest messengers went to the fairy fountain for some blessed water, and the medics think that without help from a great fairy, I probably wouldn't have made it. Even after the fever broke, I was bedridden for a couple of weeks. It took a while to find the motivation to even get out of bed because... well, a lot of my friends suddenly weren't around anymore.”

“Even Lana had to leave before Link woke up,” Proxi added, her wings drooping. “It was just me and the medics, since Zelda and Impa were too busy to visit for him for too long. They had to look after the reconstruction after all. He just seemed really lost when he woke up and none of the time travelling heroes were there.”

“I'm so sorry.”

“Don't be. You didn't have a choice. I know you would have stayed if you could. It sucked to be so alone but I don't- can't blame anybody for leaving. Besides,” Link started, grabbing the hand that Time kept his wedding ring on, “I see you got yourself a pretty little shackle. I'm glad you found some happiness after all that. I was worried about you spending so long in a war zone as a kid, but you look like you turned out alright.”

“I had an alright role model as a kid,” Time said with a smirk as he took his hand back. “It wasn't easy though. I was a lost for a while. As soon as the portal took me back to my era, I didn't have anywhere to go. It took a while to find my footing but I eventually figured it out. It was hard, not knowing whether or not you pulled through. I didn't think I would ever find out.”

Link starting wringing his blanket again. Time put his hands on top of Link's to save his poor blanket.

“I'm just glad I got to see you again. You will probably have to join us in this adventure so we can put a stop to the shadow's actions if we followed it here, but these boys are all good boys, even if Legend is a bit snarky on the surface.”

“I could handle you.”

“Barely,” Proxi added in. Link shushed her.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door and a young man in white walked in, carrying a tray with a jug of water with a glass and a bowl full of some green paste. “I heard your old wound is aching again?”

Link nodded. Time looked between who he assumed was a medic and Link, who only looked a little bit resigned as he shooed off Proxi so he could get out of his shirt. He said he was sore but Time didn't at all think about the old injury that nearly took his life as the reason why he was. He could see his chest first and the pink, jagged scar from his old injury, though he couldn't see anything from the new wound. It wasn't uncommon for potions to leave behind a small scar, but Link apparently lucked out for once in that department.

“It doesn't hurt most of the time. There's just some bad days. The injury from yesterday did me no favours in that regard,” he muttered as the medic set the tray down. Cautiously, Time rose to his feet and walked behind him, curious to see the scar. The scar from the front was nothing compared to the back where most of his infection was.

It was large and strangely circular, the discoloured skin pulled tightly towards the middle of it. It was no wonder it bothered him sometimes, knowing that the scars on his left arm where also the kind that seemed to be pulled tight. Time caught Link more than once massaging his arm when all of his armour was pulled off at the end of a long day of fighting, wincing as he did so. He couldn't imagine what his back would be like, especially as it was in a spot he couldn't easily reach on his own.

The medic poured Link a glass of water, passed it over, and got to work, massaging some of the green paste into the scar. The smell of the paste was enough to make Time move back to where he was at.

Link grabbed his hand again and offered a small smile. He didn’t have to say anything for Time to know what he was trying to do. Time mouthed a ‘thank you.’

× × × × × × × × × × × × × × × × × ×

As Proxi predicted, Zelda and Impa arrived within a few days, just when Link, now dubbed Warriors, was just starting to spend more time with the rest of the group, when he wasn’t busy still doing captain duties around the fort. Time was worried that Link wasn’t getting enough rest, but he wasn’t in any danger of reopening a wound, so he elected to keep his opinions to himself. Besides, if he looked exhausted in front of Impa and Zelda, he would get a talking to from them anyway.

They stayed outside of the fort when Impa and Zelda first arrived, letting Warriors handle updating them on their situation. They were sitting outside, with even the most restless of them lounging around in the grass. It was kind of hot out, so maybe that was what took the wind out of their sails.

“Is that a portal?” Legend asked suddenly, sitting up and looking down the field. Sure enough, Time could see the dark, swirling doorway into another era.

Time got up to get Warriors but by the time he got the main gate, Warriors was already there with a travel bag slung over his shoulder. “Time to go, I assume?”

“Time to go,” Time said, patting Warriors on the back.

This time, his big brother was coming with him. Time sighed deeply, letting nearly two decades of ‘what ifs’ leave his body. It was different, this time.

[krowjones]

Hello there, I´m really excited about this idea and couldn't help but wonder what are the answers for ⚔️ and 🍂

Aditionally, if both of you feel like it, what would the answer for 🤔 be?

⚔️ CROSSED SWORDS — do you have any skills that you are absolutely grateful you have and that mean a lot to you? how do you usually use these skills?

Teen Krow tapped his cheek as he thought. "Skills that mean a lot to me…" He smiled. "I was taught Lou Jitsu-style martial arts. I can throw a mean punch and a meaner kick," he boasted, puffing his chest out a little.

"Am I the best martial artist ever? No way. That title goes to the turtles and Splinter himself. But watching those training videos as a kid, and then sensei building on that during training, got me through the apocalypse. I'm grateful for that."

"And how else do I use those skills? To beat the ever-living shit out of the Krang!" he proudly declared with a fist in the air and fire in his eyes. "And maybe to stop some other crime along the way," he added more calmly.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

🍂 FALLEN LEAVES — how would you metaphorically describe your life and the journey(s) you've been on?

Old Krow thought for a bit, stroking his beard, and then smiled. "Like climbing Mount Everest."

After a beat, he elaborated. "I recently learned about this." Illustrating with his hands, he moved them higher and higher as he explained. "You start at the base of the mountain then move up to base camp. You have to get acclimated to the thin air at that altitude for a long time. Then you finally start your ascent. But it's extremely dangerous despite the help you get and even in the best conditions. People around you could die due to anything — stupidity, lack of fitness, lack of cooperation, bad luck. The environment is against you, sometimes an avalanche happens that people could get caught in. Or frostbite, or hypothermia. And you have to keep moving forward anyway."

He paused to collect his thoughts. "On Mount Everest, you can't really save people so easily. To be blunt, there's dead bodies everywhere. Maybe just out of sight, covered in snow and ice, but you know they're there and haunt the mountain. It can feel hopeless at times. And it's so hard to adapt to the harsh environment you're in." He shrugged. "But you can't be distracted by the death or potential death or how harsh things are. You have to adapt and use all you got to survive." His voice turned grave. "Your only goal is for you, and hopefully everyone in your group, to make it to the top and back down again — alive."

Old Krow let out a little sigh and sadly smiled. "But when you're finally at the top… hell, I can only imagine how amazing the view is. Must really be something. It's got to be incredible, for people to risk their lives for it."

He leaned in close to the camera, smile widening to a playful grin, and whispered. "Little Me doesn't know he's nearly at the top already." He winked. "Don't tell him, though."

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

🤔 THINKING FACE — what three emotions tend to dominate your mindset? do you know why they do?

Teen Krow scrunched up his face in thought and bounced his leg.

"Ooh, that stumped him," Old Krow teased when the teen didn't respond for a long time.

"Shut up, I'm thinking," the younger one snapped, his leg bouncing more.

Old Krow chuckled. "How about anger?"

"Fine. Anger. Fear. And sadness," the teen finally answered glumly. He leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees and cradle his cheek in his hand. "And probably because everything sucks even though everything's fine now. Except it isn't really."

Old Krow's brow wrinkled in concern over his younger counterpart's moodiness but did not comment on it. Instead he looked to the audience. "Our emotions are pretty strong and we feel them often, so it's tough for both of us to say. But I'll still try to answer the question."

He swayed in his seat and hummed. "Me, I think I'm pretty happy these days. Of course, I don't think my angry streak will ever leave me," he said with a small nod toward the younger counterpart. "I just channel it all into fighting crime now. And the last one…" He rubbed the back of his neck, smiling shyly. "Well, I do still worry a lot. There's lots to be concerned about."

He casually leaned back in his seat and put his feet up, looking pretty comfortable. "But that's life for ya!"