#apart from this all i have a part time job and university to cope with

[fromdarzaitoleeza]

Ottessa Moshfegh, my Year of Rest and Relaxation

Susan Sontag from " I, etcetera ".

[uzurimisery]

the space between two bodies. / satosugu x reader / part 1

Warnings: MDNI, happy ending, angst, cheating (not really this is explained in part 2), unhealthy relationships/coping mechanisms, suicidal ideation, depression, smut, no sorcery au, unedited

A/N: I started thinking about Gojo with anxiety and nihilist Geto and then what that looks like in a poly relationship with someone as flawed as they are

part two

“We’re sorry but we’ve decided to go with another candidate now. We will retain your information on file should a more suitable role open up.” 

The email stared back at you, the words on your phone screen blurring as droplets of rain hit it as you read it over for the hundredth time. Today was just another shitty fucked up day in the endless string of shitty fucked up days that had become your life. The third consecutive month of unemployment in a row. At least previously you could get temp jobs but now each day that passed just ate away at you with how useless you felt. 

Pocketing your phone, you pull out a 100 yen coin and put it in the vending machine.

You didn’t even like your old job but Jesus it was like no one was actually hiring. And when you did get an interview, you’d get ghosted afterward. On the rare occasion they didn’t ghost you, you’d receive a rejection letter like this one. It was preferable, you supposed, that your existence and effort were at least acknowledged, no matter how much it stung. Still hurt like a bitch to be told you weren’t good enough. 

Anything would be better than this, fuck you’d take being overworked and underpaid if it felt like you were doing something. This endless cycle of gnawing uncertainty and applications, interviews, followed by rejections. Worse than that you were out of deodorant and trying to find some in Japan was a Herculean effort. 

Yeah, it’s been a shit go and you’re fucking exhausted.

Maybe you’d go be an English teacher like everyone else who moves to Japan. You wouldn’t need a co-teacher so the pay would be better if you were just starting out. Not that you wanted to teach again dear god that was less than ideal. Thank god you had settled status. The thought of having to deal with visa issues at the same time made you feel sick. 

Maybe you could work at a host club. You turned, staring at your reflection in the glass. Your boobs weren’t half bad as you pushed them up from the underside like a push-up bra would. Or sell feet pictures. The market was probably oversaturated at this point but maybe there would be some interest.

Wait Jesus had your hair looked like that all day? Fuck. No wonder that girl kept staring at you on the train she thought you were a lunatic.

Sighing you press the button for 4H. It wasn’t like you’d always been this way, sort of drifting in a sea of uncertainty abroad your boat of doubt with no wind to guide your sails. There was a period of time, maybe a five-year stretch after you had graduated from university where your life was on track. An entry-level job in your degree field, a long-term boyfriend turned fiance, wedding planning, and a great group of friends. Shit, you had it all. 

The fiance was the first to go. 

As it turns out, finding your fiance in bed with the girl he swore you didn’t have to worry about, his tongue halfway down her throat like he’s trying to do an endoscopy, is a terrible way to find out you’re being cheated on. When he noticed you standing in the doorway he had the gall to sputter some bullshit about how it was your fault it happened. You were too focused on your work, you didn’t give him attention, blah, blah, blah. It was you who broke the relationship up by working so much and being married to your job. And as he paid for the overpriced four-bedroom apartment in an area of Tokyo that you didn’t even like, you lost the apartment in the breakup. 

You couldn’t slum dog millionaire your life away on Shoko and Utahime’s couch forever eating tubs of ice cream and binging TV after that, so everyone told you, or rather forced you, to move in with Suguru and Satoru. Bouncing around from couple to couple. It did give you some stability and just as things go up so must they come down. 

The company you were working for was liquidated after an investigation by the federal government found years of tax fraud. Luckily they got bought out, and you thought maybe if you put in work you could still climb the ladder. But all those late nights in the office, conbini dinners, and unpaid overtime, you were just another name on a severance list.

It felt like waves were crashing over you, each one larger than the rest. Almost like you were tied to a dock during a hurricane, a tsunami, or some fucking natural disaster that threatened to drown you if you didn’t hold onto something but there wasn’t much to hold on to. You could hold onto the minuscule amount of friendships that you had at least. It was far too awkward and messy to keep up with anyone else other than your main four since the rest were so tied to your ex-fiance and his life. Stupid fucking lawyer. 

The four of you were close-ish. Less close since Shoko had gone on rotation at a university on the other side of Tokyo. It meant she and Utahime had moved nearer to it since Utahime was willing to commute. But Suguru and Satoru were still close with you and still dating.  Biting as that felt at times. 

You met Geto first in a shared philosophy lecture. One of those run-of-the-mill ones, but the content that really got the two of you talking was nihilism. It was the seminar groups after class you shared where he really saw you. Stripped away of pretenses and your nerves laid bare. Not just another face in a lecture hall but something more, something human. The deep indents of nails in your palms and the rubbing of your hands together under the table. He had seen right through you, recognized the darker parts of himself in you- it made you feel understood.

The machine made a mechanical noise and the lights flickered. Sighing you kick the machine lightly to see if anything happens, if life could give you this one thing today that you so desperately needed. Just like everything else, nothing goes your way and your stupid drink stays logged on the shelf. So like every reasonable person you kick the machine again. 

“Stupid fucking piece of shit machine,” you murmur a growing string of profanities under your breath as you repeatedly kick the machine

.

All you wanted was one of those ¥100 coffee drinks that were loaded with caffeine to keep going through your slog of a day was that so hard? Maybe it would be best if you just packed it up and called it quits. Move back home with your parents and be berated daily. Why aren’t you married? Why did you and Kosuke break up? When are they going to get some grandchildren? They aren’t getting any younger you know. Face the cutting shame of fucking up another opportunity, another chance. 

What was the point in trying anymore when you couldn’t even get a stupid drink that you don't honestly even want at this point out of a vending machine so you can go home and masturbate to audio porn before you cry yourself to fucking sleep? 

Suguru’s voice cut through the spiral of thoughts, your name on his lips. 

“What are you doing here? I thought you had an interview and you’d be home late?” 

Of course, he’d catch you like this. 

“Hey Sugs,” it came out as a groan as you kicked the machine again, a loud clang following as your drink hit the bottom of the dispenser. Bending down, you grab the can before turning and facing him. “I did.” 

“How’d it go?”

“Like shit.” Maybe you should work on your delivery. This flat effect is really making you should like a bitch. Are you a bitch? 

Geto’s eyes raked over you, infuriatingly calm and measured. He was always so carefully disheveled, the type of person to look effortlessly put together no matter the occasion. Stupid name-brand black sweater over a white button-down half tucked into chinos with a chain on the belt. His hair, shiny and perfect, was neatly tucked into his signature half-up-hald-down look to keep the strand out of his eyes, minus the one for style. Notably, he was wearing his glasses for once, sleek frames perks on a tall nose. Oh, he smelt nice too, his sandalwood and bergamot cologne hitting you as he stepped closer, extending his umbrella to cover the two of you. Fuck he was so handsome it wasn’t fair.

“I'm sorry to hear that,” Geto replied softly.

You shrugged, trying to brush it off. “ It is what it is.”

But the reality of it clung to you and drug you down, down, down into the depths of your psyche. That small, scared feeling you tried so hard to suppress started bubbling up again, twisting your insides into knots. It made you feel sick, so much like a lost little child in a world that had grown far too big and complex. Here it was, rearing its ugly head, in front of one of the top ten people you never wanted to see in such a shit state.

But that's all Gojo and Geto do at this point. They pick up the broken, crumbling pieces of yourself that slip between your fingers. You feel like a cracked vase leaking water all over the place no matter how desperately they try and patch up the ceramic. Each day the gap between you and them grows more apparent. They were both soaring and you were falling to the ground and rolling around in the mud. 

Geto had just done a four-page spread in Architects Digest, even though he was a pretentious motherfucker who hated the magazine. And Gojo… God, he’d just opened for Prada at Paris Fashion Week. They went viral on every social media platform a while back for how hot and gay they were. You’d been caught in the crossfire of your accounts being tagged and gained a social media boost, but that also meant a bunch of people DMing you telling you to take pictures of them. 

The most fucked up thing about it all was the gnawing feeling that chewing on your bones that you were being dragged around like an accessory to remind them how good they had it. A permanent third wheel they’ve been stuck with since university. Two talented lovers on the brink of permanent importance and their weird little friend who follows them along like a lost puppy. It wasn’t even true and that's why it hurt so much. You knew they believed in you, thought that you could be a successful artist, and supported you in it even, but the jealousy rotted inside you like a festering wound. You weren’t even jealous of their success, only just partial, but it was like you weren’t good enough to be around them. 

Maybe you were better off as wall decor in the life they were building together. Something quiet and serene that didn’t demand anything from them. Better that than the bitter, jealous mess you were every time you saw them succeed.

He starts, the same spiel he goes to when you get like this. “You can always-”

“No.” your voice comes out sharper than you intended, but you don’t care. 

“I don’t know why you act like it’s such a bad off,” Suguru presses, his calm demeanor only pissing you off more.  

“I don’t want to work for you.” 

“Why not.” 

You snap. “Because I don’t want to, Suguru! Is that so hard to understand?”

Fuck, you wanted to storm off, go back to the house, and slam the door behind you as you went. But it didn’t matter if you stormed off, you lived in one of his guest bedrooms. Both of you were just headed to the same place. Sad little rescue that you were.

Suguru assessed, his eyes softened, breaking you down. He picked out every one of your insecurities as he stared at you. Microscopic inspection, each of your cells was being assessed for your state of being. Have you eaten? Was it enough? Had you slept? Are you even capable of taking care of yourself in this state? 

The weight of his gaze made your chest tighten, and before you could control it, try and reel it back in, tears welled up in your eyes. Blinking them back, you swallowed hard, the lump in your throat bobbing as you did. You hated this. Hated the way his care, his pity, felt like a knife twisting in the last remaining shred of pride you clung to. 

Pity was the killy of pride and you should accept that your pride was already decomposing in the septic tank in the backyard. 

Fuck up, fuck up, fuck up. All you ever were, all you’d ever be. Every loose thread of your shirt feels like it's cutting against your skin. The hem of your trousers drowns your feet like you're wearing your parents' clothes. Shabby. Uncouth. Inept. 

Wordlessly, you turned on your heel and fled, rushing out of the side street as the tears spilled past your lash line. You couldn’t do this anymore--no more questions, no more pity. No matter how hard you tried, how hard you struggled, clawed your way through the fucking dirt, you could never be like them. Never be good like theme, never right like them, never fit like them. They had these perfect little lives that they could boast to everyone about. When they spoke, people listened. People cared what they had to say. The world parted for them, it was the Red Sea and they were Moses, making space. There’d always be room for them to shine. 

But you were screaming into a void, your throat raw, bloody, and you were aching from the endless effort to be seen, to be heard. You wanted to be looked at like your own person, your own successes. Hard to be noticed for something that rarely happened. No matter how loud you screamed, how much you begged, your voice was just lost in the noise. 

You knew Suguru would follow. He always did. Even if you didn’t live in the same house, he’d have followed you. His voice was muffled by the pressure in your ears but you could hear him trying to talk to you. He let you get all the way home and inside the gate of the house before he grabbed your wrist and yanked you backward. 

Trying to pull away, your shoulder wrenched painfully as you trashed in his grip. 

“Calm down,” Suguru spoke firmly, pulling you into his chest. His sweater was soft, and your face smushed against the fabric as sobs wrecked your body, trembling like the earth in an earthquake.

It was hard to speak through the tears, so all you could do was try and slip out of his hold as you sobbed. You didn’t want this comfort. You wanted to run from your failure. From how suffocating life felt and that no matter what you'd never be enough. Worse than that, the sweet sickly feeling that trickled down your throat that when he held your life this, it made the world feel just a little bit more bearable. As if somewhere you could survive another day if he kept touching you. It wasn’t yours to feel and he wasn’t yours to hold. 

Suguru lets you wiggle around. You hit his torso a few times, your strength fading as you cry. When your sobs turned to hiccups and gasps for breaths, he gently cupped your face, thumbs brushing away the tears that still spilled from your eyes. 

“Talk to me,” he said softly, barely above a whisper. The songs of a city nearly eclipsing it. 

What could you say? How could you explain this feeling? This horrible guilt, pain, and jealousy ate away at you every single day. The tears came harder now, speeding up as if to help drown you in your misery and take you out of it for good. Hiccuping you drew breath, sharp and quick, hoping to speak but nothing comes out. Words claw at your throat, digging it with sharpened points. It hurts the way they hang onto you.

“Is it all too much again?” His voice is so soft, warm like fleece pajamas fresh out of the dryer as he holds you so delicately.

This wasn’t the first time that one of the three of you had been so consumed by dread, suffocated by the weight of life itself. Suguru knew it all too well himself, from high school to know he held it tightly in his hands. It never went away from him, he just learned to live with it, let it fade into the background, and let a constant hum of despair serve as the baseline for the day-to-day. 

His thumbs brush over the apex of your cheekbones again and the tenderness shatters you, another wave of sobs tearing through you. They pull you under, out into the open ocean, and through their rip current.

“I just..” you start, it scratches your throat, thick with phlegm. “ I can’t do this anymore.” 

His voice remained steady. “Do what?” 

“Any of it. I can’t do it.” 

“You’re capable of it. You can do it.” 

Jarring, rough, whipping across your skin as the rubber band pulls too tight and snaps. You lash out, and it stings where it hits. The anger cuts through your skin like your fingernails leave crescent moons in your palms. 

“No, I fucking can’t!” It's ripped out of you as you stalk away like a wounded animal. “I can’t okay. I can’t do shit. I can’t keep a relationship without being cheated on. I can’t manage to get my own place. I can’t get a fucking job. I can’t sit here and pretend like I’m not fucking wasting away in my own misery watching you and Gojo and Shoko all succeed and be the only one of us still shooting for the stars and coming crashing down to earth every single fucking time. You and Gojo with your perfect little lives look at me like a charity case to be fixed.”

“We have never looked at you like a charity case.” His tone was firm.

“Really? Then what the fuck do you look at me like, huh?” You press the question circling back around. “Is it pity? Did the two of you see some poor stray that you wanted to take in and keep like a pet when we met at university? Is that it?” 

His eyes were hard, unreadable.

“It is that. You pity me.”

“Jesus, no! We don’t pity you- I don’t pity you! Is it so hard to believe that I care about you?”

“Yes, it is! There’s no reason for you to care,” 

“What the hell wouldn’t I care?” Suguru’s voice raised to a shout, frustration cracking his facade. 

“Because I’m just like everyone you hate!” Your chest heaves as you let out a flood of emotions. “ No ambitions, contributing nothing to society, just leeching off others.” 

“You’re not like them.” 

“I am. On paper, I’m exactly like them. The only reason that you’d keep me around is because it makes you feel good to watch me suffer or you pity me.”

“How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t pity you?” His voice cracked with emotion, but you didn’t stop.

“Then tell me why you care!” It comes out so desperately. You're begging him for understanding, to know why he stays. To know why he lets you in.

For once he looked uncertain. His mask slipped, revealing the cracks in his facade. It’s been so long since you’ve seen underneath it you’d almost forgotten how he looked when he wasn’t pretending to be happy. 

“Or is it that you don’t care?” 

Something flashed in his eyes, flickerings of things you only saw when he looked at Gojo. He opens his mouth to speak and then closes it. There's a fear in his eyes, like if he acts in this moment something may crack and crumble like the foundation of a house that leaves him crumpled in a pile of wood. He doesn’t, or won’t, give you an answer. 

So you turn on your heel, the conversation over in your mind, and head to the front door. You’ll go up and pack a bag before heading across town and crashing on Shoko and Utahime’s couch before calling your parents and groveling to them. 

But as you reach the door, Suguru reaches you. His arm wraps around your waist and he spins you around and pushes your back against it. He’s got you pinned. 

“It’s because I love you.” It’s the faintest breeze that passes from his lips, like a car driving past on a hot day, sweat making your shirt stick to you. “I care because I love you.”

Everything is frozen in a still frame. Neither one of you moves, neither one of you breathes. A still moment that holds you tight, threatens to squeeze you so tightly your heart bursts. 

“What do you mean by that?” You swallow as you speak, like pebbles in your throat. 

Suguru blinks back tears, looking up and then back at you. “That I love you. Fuck! I’m in love with you.” 

Disbelief makes your voice shake. “No, you’re not not. You’re with Satoru.” 

“And? I can’t love both of you?” 

“No, you can’t,” Hypocrisy tastes acrid on your tongue. You know damn well you could never pick between the two of them, that this blighted jealousy you feel towards them is more the fact they have the other rather than their success. It’s something you don’t admit but it’s there. “Besides, you’re lying to me.”

“No.” His response was firm and immediate. The whole time you’d known them, their worlds had revolved around each other. They’d been the only thing for each other for so long. It was an unspoken truth that they were made for each other in a way that could only be sewn by the fabric of the universe itself. Something so profoundly and divinely created it had been written in the fabric of life at the moment of the Big Bang. 

“I’ve seen you watching.” Suguru’s tone is low, cutting, it vibrates through you as he has you pinned. 

A sick, icy dread wraps around your spine. It starts in your toes and crawls up your body. Your muscles lock in place as it climbs up until it's all the way in your head. Paralyzing fear grips you.

“I don't…” The lie is transparent before it comes to fruition. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” It’s brittle, cracking on your teeth as it passes through them.

“Don’t play innocent.” Suguru’s voice was sharp, cutting through the air like a blade. The tension between you tightens and winds up to pitch, but there's a current that punctuates it. One that feels heady and warm. One that excites you in the same way it embarrasses you. “I’ve seen you watching. I’ve seen you for years. The first time, maybe it was a mistake. But last week? Three weeks before that?”

Your mouth went dry, choking on the excuse that tried to bubble up. Like finely ground chalk powder coasted every surface of it. “I—”

He cuts you off before you can even try to defend yourself. “I know you get off on it too. Leave your curtains open while you touch yourself. Saying his name, my name.”

Horror twists inside you like a knife, your heart dropping to the pit of your stomach. You’d always been so careful, never acting when you thought they were home. Never want to risk exactly this happening. Your face burned like you drank half a liter of vodka in a go. Maybe you’d wake up and realize this was a nightmare. The humiliation was unbearable. 

“Imagine my surprise,” Suguru continues in a low chuckle, left hand slotting perfectly against your waist, “when I came home early one day and saw that.” 

The tears that had stopped in your flash of anger spill hot and fast down your cheeks. The raw, hot shame and embarrassment muddle you. It makes you want a sinkhole to open up beneath you and swallow you whole. You can’t meet his gaze, your vision blurry. 

“I’m sorry. I’ll move out.” you stammer out, the words falling in a chopping spiccato, desperate to create space between the two of you. You’d never be able to face him again. 

“Who said anything about moving out?” Suguru comes, pulling you closer to him till you're flush against his chest. He bends down, breath tickling your ear. You feel the sharp pressure of his teeth grazing the shell of it, a jolt going through your body. “You don’t get to leave now.” Pulling back, he meets your eyes in a half-lidded gaze. 

Both of you are playing the game again. Looking for something unspoken, some cryptic clue you need to decipher. He was searching for discomfort, disgust, anything to make him draw back and stop. You searched for understanding, dissecting how it got to this point. Every moment, every glance, every touch from him that you had ever overlooked. 

He always held a soft glint in his eyes when he looked at you. Something subtle, normally reserved for Satoru. It warmed the edge of his voice when he spoke and crinkled the corners of his eyes when he smiled. There was that softness for Shoko, but it was different. The one he had for you was a more reserved, pulled-back, and dialled-down version of what gripped him when he looked at Satoru. He had always viewed you this way.

The times you sat sandwiched between him and Gojo, your legs brushing against him, his arm slung around your shoulders to reach Satoru. Pulling you against him on the train, in clubs, at parties, the bump of your hips against his own. Compliments when you wore flattering, his pushing Satoru to dress you up. He liked it best when you were in shorter dresses and skirts with tights. 

Suguru had always wanted you, but you had failed to notice. 

Instinct took over before reason could temper it. You pushed off the door, your hands flying to the loose part of his hair at the nape of his neck. The strands feelt just as silky an shiny as they look between your fingers. Without hesitation, the space between you two diminishes. You aren’t sure who closes the distance first, but your lips lock hungry. Teeth knocking against each other as you both desperately cling to the other. It's rough and aggressive, both of you starved animals feasting on flesh. The taste of copper spreading in your mouth as he bit down on your lip making you whine. His breathing becomes your own, heady mix of desire and dark, primal urge..

His tongue pushes against yours, taking advantage of your now open mouth, wet and warm brushing against the back of your teeth, laying claim to your mouth. Geto was dominating in all aspects of his life so it was unsurprising that he set the pace and led you to where he wanted to be. He moved your legs up, patting your ass to jump, to then wrap around his waist as he pressed you against the door. You grind your hips against his growing erection as he holds you there, and you can feel the heat of him even through his pants.

Suguru pulls away panting. His eyes are half closed, lips blushed a beautiful red and damp with saliva. He moves in again, this time to your neck, where he bites down hard. You squirm as he sucks a dark and angry mark, his mark, on your skin. The bite of his teeth against your skin feels right. It eats away at the jealous monster inside you every second he’s latched onto you.

Fed up with the door, Suguru opens it and carries you through the threshold. He moves the two of you through the genkan, toeing off his shoes while you kick your own off, and into the living room where he drops you on the couch. There’s an air about him, so intense it’s nearly oppressive, as his fingers inch up underneath your sweater, sliding it off of you. It’s a predator circling their prey, the success of a hunt now that he’s got you on your back against the soft fabric of the couch. He’d been waiting for this far longer than you thought and it spurs you on.

Suguru moves in tandem with you, tugging off his sweater and button-up shirt, exposing his happy trail. The dark dusting of hair makes your mouth water. Once his shirt is off, his hands cover your chest through your bra, palming your tits like stress balls. It's unpadded and lacey, and it lets him feel as if your nipples get hard. He pushes the cups down, leaving them to rest under your breasts, and pushes them up slightly, accentuated by your being on your back.

His fingertips close around your nipples as he pinches and pulls at them. You knew how much of a sadist he could be. One night you watched him edge Satoru for an hour straight. Seen how hot he looked with Gojo in his mouth as he writhed around. A sweet moan escaped you as he played with your nipples and rolled his hips against yours. It makes your head feel fuzzy, thoughts focusing purely on him. His weight presses down on you, so heavy and right it makes you ache.

You lunge forward, propping yourself up on your elbows to kiss him again. It’s just as messy and hungry as before, years of built-up desire between the two of you saturating your every pore. It settles in your bones that pulses in time with your heart. 

Suguru doesn’t separate from you, but he slides your trousers and underwear off in one go as you kick your socks off. He tugs his own off hastily, boxer briefs following in turn. His public hair is trimmed, a close crop like you’ve seen it before. Like every other aspect of him, it’s neatly maintained, put into its place, and kept there. 

His fingers dig into the flesh of your hips as he pulls your hips up by his head. Your back is half off the sofa as he places your legs over his shoulders and parts your core with his fingers. He blows cold air onto your clit that makes you squirm before he licks your clit. Moaning, you try to grind yourself against his face but his hands tighten on your hips, holding them firm. You’d get what he wanted to give you. Fight against it and get nothing, or accept it. 

He was slow to start. His tongue lazily explores you, getting familiar with your taste. It pushed against your clit, wide and flat, before swirling his tongue around it. The ball of his tongue piercing rubbed against the most sensitive part of you. Your hips jerk forward and he looks up, a warning in his eyes, but he doesn’t stop. Suguru curls his tongue again, this time moving it side to side, letting his piercing catch on your clit purposefully.  Every action he takes is measured as he picks up speed while latching his lips around it to add delicious suction. Two of his fingers slide inside you, reaching far deeper than your own ever could. He pumps them in and out of you, driving you closer to the edge.

You felt your pussy drooling, liquid gushing out and covering his chin. The muscles in your abdomen tightened with each passing second until you swore they'd cramp. It was all too much as you came, jerking and contracting in on yourself. Black spots dot your vision as your world shakes on this axis. 

Sugru watched as you came, pulling back from your pussy to stare at your face. His eyes never left yours as he rubbed soothing circles into your skin with his thumbs. He could cover nearly all of you with how big his hands were, warm and calloused. Minus a cold spot on his left hand. 

His engagement ring. 

The silver felt like it burned your skin as he smiled at you and planted a kiss on your inner thigh. It glimmers in the low light, bouncing light off like a homing beacon. Bubbling sickness, bile rising in your throat, disgust palming at your skin. What had you just done? You’ve just violated a boundary so gigantic with Suguru. Let your own selfish need for intimacy lead you to this. He was engaged to your best friend. They were getting married next year.

You rushed to grab your clothes, panic surging through you. The world spins around you. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“We shouldn’t have done that,” you buttoned up your trousers, throwing your sweater on. Your hair is a mess and your skin feels clammy and flushed. The need to vomit is overwhelming. “This was a mistake.”

Suguru’s rising from the couch, trying to grab you, stopping you from moving but you dodge his hand. “A mistake?” 

Your left hand meets your mouth as you bite the nail of your thumb. It clicks against your front teeth. 

“Satoru won’t mind-” 

“A mistake Suguru,” You shake your head, bending down and grabbing the rest of your stuff. “Please. Just forget this.” Without waiting for his reply, you run up the stairs and slam the door behind you. 

You really are a bitch.

©️ uzuzrimisery

[karmathehalflander]

Some symbrock centric Venom the last dance fic ideas I have. Feel free to use these ideas if you want! (You have to send me a link though because I’ll want to see it) You can change any details and mix and match ideas these are just concepts I’ve been thinking about for a bit that I wish I could write but I’m to busy to.

Please keep in mind I wrote all of these notes out at 3 AM so if the wording doesn’t make sense that’s probably why. This is a bit long so I added a page break

1: Post VTLD. When Venom separated from Eddie he left a big chunk of his consciousness inside Eddies mind. His physical form is completely gone, but similar to how Venom revived Eddie, Eddie could rebuild Venom’s body. (In this universe this would not reignite the codex, that only happens when a symbiote revives a host) however, this process is going to be extremely, long, tedious, and exhausting. Eddie will need to connect deeply to his body and Venoms consciousness requiring a lot of meditation. They would ask for Mrs. Chen’s help and she would be absolutely delighted. Doing this would also require Eddie start taking better care of himself. And along this wild journey of connecting deeply with their shared body and mind their bond grows stronger and they learn to communicate and Eddie finally expresses his love for Venom. The actual meditation sessions could involve a lot. Visiting each other’s memories and learning about their time before they met. They learn about the ways both of them experienced a lot of isolation and trauma, Venom learns more about Eddie’s family and past relationships, Eddie learns about Venom’s past hosts and other symbiotes he knew. They talk about each others feelings for once, and Eddie learns a lot about human and alien anatomy along the way. This fic would be silly at times, angsty at others, but always deeply romantic and intimate. And of course Eddie succeeds in forming Venom a new body and the first thing they go with it is kiss for the first time.

2: Post VTLD Eddie is extremely distraught. He has a new apartment in NewYork but is not handling the loss well. He’s been drinking too much and barely eating. Anne and Dan are trying but they live a while away and are married and expecting a baby there’s only so much they can do. After a particularly rough night in which Eddie probably gives himself alcohol poisoning he dreams of Venom he’s there and telling Eddie “you need to take better care of yourself I didn’t sacrifice myself all heroically for you to go and die from neglecting yourself” and every night from them on Venom is there in his dreams. Eddie thinks he’s going crazy and this is a coping mechanism. Why is this happening? IDK it’s up to you.

3: similar to #1 Venom’s physical form died, but Vee left a part of their consciousness inside Eddies mind and has been gaining strength. Venom can’t regenerate his physical form anymore. But his voice is still there in Eddie’s head. And later on Venom could learn to project a physical form to Eddies eyes by messing with his brain. Maybe even simulate touch. you could tie #2 with this one. Like maybe at first to connect they need to be asleep because of the change in brain activity.

4: Takes place a few weeks after VTLD and Eddie has moved into a new apartment in NewYork he has a stable job but is in extreme mourning. He starts to feel sick and is progressively getting worse as the days go on. Dan checks him out and realizes Eddies body got so used to Venom just existing inside him as well as helping regulate his systems, eat bacteria/viruses, and aid his digestion that now that he’s gone his body is destroying itself from the inside. Eddie is dying. Various treatments aren’t working and Eddie is distraught that Venom died for nothing. lot of ending options. Venom returns and saves him last minute, Eddie does die of this but it’s implied they’re reunited in the afterlife, straight up hurt/no comfort heavy angst, the world is your oyster. The fic would probably be pretty short at most two chapters but it could definitely be stretched out way longer I just don’t have many more ideas for this particular scenario

5: Eddie sacrifices himself for Venom instead. Eddie finally gets to repay all the care Venom has shown for him. Is Eddie permanently dead? Up to you I just like this concept.

6: Venom is alive, but he was reformed from that small bit of biomass Venom left behind in the bar. Because of this, Venom’s consciousness and memories are still developing and he doesn’t remember much. All he knows is that he had to get back to Eddie, even though he doesn’t know who that is. They get to rediscover each other all over again as Venom slowly recovers their memories. This fic would switch between Venom and Eddie’s POV and probably start in Venom’s POV.

7: A small oneshot where Eddie confides with Anne about how he feels like he took Venom for granted in the exact same way he did to her. Hurt/comfort, you get the idea.

8: I just need someone to write a fic where Eddie goes to grief counseling/therapy lord knows that man needs it. Anne and Dan probably have to make him.

9: Eddie has a new apartment in NewYork and visits the statute of liberty every day. There’s another person that’s always there as well. This idea is bare bones but I thought I would include it just in case.

[senselessviolets]

"don't wanna be alone."

Roman Roy x Original Character

Rated T (Angst/Feels, Drabble)

Word Count: 1.6k

AO3 Link

WARNINGS:

Cursing, canon typical humor, descriptions & themes involving PTSD/depression. Roman is kind of a dick.

Author's Notes:

Heavily inspired by "Calling U Back" by The Marías. I realized there was some unintentional overlap between this fic and the headcanons about being Rome's assistant that I made so shared universe I guess? /s

Set during Caroline's Wedding in Italy at the end of season 3.

Summary: After a business trip in Turkey ended with her and her boss being held hostage, personal assistant Maxine Lee has some big questions to ask herself; why has he now gone cold on her? Will they be able to work through these unresolved feelings? And most important of all---is the paycheck really worth it?

I could feel two hazel beams searing into my back as I stood across the party from him. There was nothing that stated in the e-vite he forwarded me that I was to be his armpiece for Italy. And yet, Roman’s unshakeable gaze nearly had me feeling guilty or at the very least—unresolved. I knew jetsetting was going to be a part of the job and my brief stint in PR for the luxury fashion label ALMEN had gotten me well acquainted with travel of the sort. Instead of preparing statements for reporters about the brand’s upcoming collection for the spring-summer season; I was having to be a pincushion for the World’s Wealthiest Brat/Fuckboy.

It was a rather impromptu thing in the beginning. My father had gone to Wharton with Waystar’s CFO Karl Mueller and according to him; they “go way back.” Funny how Karl’s name had never once come up until his youngest daughter needed a cushy job in the city. All because someone (me) had to bite off a little more than they could chew. 

“It’s, uh, nice that you stuck around even after the whole Turkey…thing,” Cousin Greg emphasizes, using his hands.

The briefest mention of Turkey had my stomach doing flips. I didn’t speak to Roman for weeks after. Beyond the now bi-weekly video calls with my therapist; I became something of a recluse. I didn’t dare to leave my apartment. The meals I did remember to have were left at my doorstep. I convinced myself this leave of absence was helping me cope and all it was doing was prolonging the inevitable. Sooner or later, I was going to have to face him even though the last time he would’ve seen me, my face was hot and wet with tears. Tears I’d done everything to keep from spilling over.

There was just so much uncertainty at that moment. Being the lone female companion on that trip left me more vulnerable. In ways that Roman, Karl, or Laird weren’t or would ever think about. Beyond that, I was the most objectively expendable member of the group. I wasn’t a big-name banker like Laird, much less a high-level exec like Karl. If I were them, I would without a doubt choose me first to get thrown overboard if it came down to it. 

I wouldn’t fucking think twice about it, in fact.

But Roman, as powerless as even he was at that moment, did everything he could to assure me that wouldn’t be the case no matter what. He was sweet. Why’d he have to be so fucking sweet? There were a couple of nights I’d spent awake in bed, eyes trained on the dark ceiling above me asking myself that same question over and over again until I either drifted off to sleep or the ache in my heart dissipated. Usually, it was the first one.

“It’ll…um…no, d-don’t…don’t cry. Please. You’re gonna be okay, w-we’re gonna be okay actually. Yeah. I mean, w-we got Laird. He’s like a fucking behemoth. And I know he sorta…got pulled away but we do have Dave. Dude is jacked. Y’know Colin? My dad’s security? Dave’s that but not as scary. We’d be covered. We a-are covered. We got you, Max. I got…,” he assured, almost rhythmically, “...I’m gonna…make sure you stay okay, okay?”

Was it incredibly verbose and clumsy? Yes. 

Did it make me feel any better in that moment? Somewhat. 

It was something to hold onto when there wasn’t anything else; it was something. I remember feeling weak and sick. All these powerful men occupying various corners of this decadent hotel lobby and here I am; a little girl dabbing snot into her sweater sleeve like I was eight years old again, legs criss-crossed in the church pews during my mom’s funeral service. Being utterly alone had been the bane of my existence for some time. Not just simply being by myself as I actually preferred that a lot of the time. Some mindless Netflix binge and takeout was enough most nights. “Utterly alone” to me meant being nothing in the eyes of the people around you. An organism, a space-filler—being interminably interchangeable. Roman had done what he could to assure me I was the opposite at my most terrified.

Though I didn’t owe him anything and I was on his payroll and a result, had received the fruits of my labor—I felt innately that I was indebted to him. An entire year later I had still yet to rid myself of this feeling. There was a heaviness to it. It usually occupied any prolonged gaps of silence in between our conversations. It was tangible to me but I often wondered if it was for him too. 

I figured it was; otherwise, he might not be as much of a hellish prick as he had been to me lately. He’d spontaneously request revised versions of the business plans he’d drafted. Late into the night, he’d call me, harshly demanding I send over the revisions. At a certain point, I realized he wasn’t even checking to see if I had sent them or not. Like he just needed somebody to bitch out for the hell of it. I remember when I shrewdly accused him of doing so during one of his random calls, this one occurring around 2 AM.

“Do you even read my fucking notes? I feel like you don’t otherwise I wouldn’t be fuckin’ calling you at odd hours of the night to remind you to do your fuckin’ job.” he chastises, in a voice that’s made gravelly due to the phone and fatigue. 

I was calling from my bed, propped upright by some pillows with my bedside lamp turned on. Likewise, I could tell Roman was sprawled out on his mattress due to the shifting of the bedsheets the mic picked up. The sound of sleep was always palpable in his voice. 

“Well, if you bothered checking if I’d sent them over before calling to bitch me out for not sending them at all; it could save us both the fucking headache, yeah?”

“...lookit you, being all big-bad-bitch out of nowhere. Was wondering when I was gonna bring that outta you. I’m legit so proud of you right now, Max. Keep killing it, Kween!” Roman taunts, “Makes you wonder where this Max was when we were living it up in Turkey way back. Okay, okay, if you can admit right now that the only reason you were putting on the waterworks then was that you were weeping over the possibility of losing your meal ticket…I’ll leave you alone. Promise.”

What kind of twisted ultimatum was that? 

Unfortunately, my throat becomes too dry all of a sudden and I’m unable to question what possessed him to ask such a fucked up thing this late at night. Instead, I’m only able to bid him a choked-up farewell and hang up. 

“...I-I’ll send you my next round of revisions soon. I appreciate the follow-up call. Thank you, Roman. Have a good night.”

It wasn’t exactly a secret that Roman could be incredibly cruel with his words when presented with the opportunity to be. I’d had a litany of expletives hurled at me over the most minor of mistakes. That’s not even including the constant sexual innuendo but even he had the common sense not to push things too far with that. For all of his kindness; there was always an edge. Gestures of appreciation were undercut with sarcastic comments and name-calling. “Thank you” was most commonly followed by a well-timed “fuck you” or “fuck off” if he wanted to evoke his father’s bitterness.

  This was by all means the norm.

But that’s why Turkey had been so different. That’s why it had been sitting in my craw so strangely these twelve-odd months. Sure, he had been trying to keep things light-hearted and get a smile, better yet a laugh, out of me since things were so dire. However, there was no “edge” to be found. No rug to be pulled out from under me and him to snicker at. 

Cliche sure, but I could just feel the difference. 

I could feel him trying to make a genuine connection which I’d come to surmise was typically quite difficult for him. Then again that seemed to be the case with most who shared his status; especially his siblings. His little-spoken-of partner Tabitha was evidence of this failure to connect. As were his handful of Raya dates that ‘never panned out’. 

He was my boss. I was his first-ever assistant; meant to ‘help him acclimate to the increased levels of responsibility he hoped to gradually take on.’ At least that was how Ms. Kellman further described the position in my follow-up interview. While having Waystar’s General Legal Counsel conduct my second job interview was beyond intimidating, I was under the impression she was attempting to mentor him. Clearly, the two had history and that was none of my concern. Though I’d be lying if I’d said I hadn’t thought about asking her what his deal was. If he’d ever been the way he was at the hotel in Turkey to her. Maybe he had. 

Or maybe she wouldn’t know a serious, genuine Roman if he was looking her dead in the eyes. 

He was a confounding person who contradicted himself all too often. It made him impossible to decipher sometimes and intolerable to be around other times. And yet, I was stuck making the same mistake I suspected many individuals that came before me had too made; trying to make sense of this person named Roman Roy while at my core hoping that maybe he’d break through and be better. 

If not for me or his would-be-girlfriend or his deeply flawed family—at the very least for himself. Because regardless of all he’d said or all he’d done, it’s what he deserved.

End.

{ Feedback is always welcome! Let me know if you want to see a follow-up to this! <3 }

[astranite]

CH2 of Where was he? Pancakes.

Behold, a second chapter!! Thanks for everyones lovely comments and encouragement! I did not quite mean to stay up until midnight finishing this, but ADHD and I'm excited about this!! Enjoy!!!

@idontknowreallywhy yes im going to sleep now.

@edutainer2022 The rest of this, as you've already seen the first little bit!

Tumblr part 1 :)

---

Instead of pulling away from his brothers and getting to work like drill sergeant at the back of his mind nagged that he should be doing, Scott sunk into the group hug. Just a while longer. He needed this.

"What do I do now? I don’t know what to do now," he asked, or rather mumbled into John's t-shirt where he'd smushed his face. 

There. He'd admitted it even to himself. And his brothers. 

His voice was small where he'd meant it to come out as a demand or at least a question, not a pitiful cry for help.

Gordon gripped him tighter and so did Alan, and Scott was already leaning into Virgil's enveloping embrace at his side and John's fingers were still in his hair. 

He didn't actually know what to do with the mess he'd made of the kitchen or the unfinished pancake batter. The useless bowl of ingredients couldn't even be put back in their respective packets because he'd mixed them together because he hadn't thought further ahead than throwing them in. They were wasted. 

The idea of sifting apart flour and sugar and the baking powder that was possibly in there until it was like nothing had ever happened buzzed in his brain. Every solution he could come up with to undo it all was summarily discarded as they were impractical, impossible or simply ridiculous. Life didn't work like that. You didn’t get a do over on your mistakes, and even if anyone could it certainly wouldn’t be him getting the chance. 

But he didn't want to give up. What Scott wanted was to eat pancakes with his brothers, to get to laugh together without the pressing weight of the entire world on his shoulders.

Alright, at this point he would definitely prefer to jump out of One without a jetpack than face the kitchen, or y'know go cry in the shower. He had such great coping mechanisms. 

Just it was easier to think in the middle of a crisis. The present moment swallowed up all the mistakes of the past as the only thing that mattered in the universe was the next several seconds in the now. Doubt didn't have time to eat him alive; there wasn't time for vegetables to go mouldy in the bottom of the fridge. 

Maybe he'd dissolve into a puddle of suspicious goop too. Ugh, then someone would have to scrub the floor, which he'd be responsible for doing given it would be his fault if he liquified into hypothetical ooze. 

Gordon interrupted his thoughts, sing-songing out his name, "Scott, Scotty, Scooter, what can we do to help?" 

If he knew how they could help, that'd solve a lot of problems. 

Scott shrugged. Caring too much left him in the same place on the outside as caring too little. 

His brain steamrollered over Gordon's clarification of whether Scott wanted suggestions for what they could do.

The batter needed to be finished except that needed the eggs and other whatever it was that they didn't have, the fridge stuff needed to be dealt with by putting it in a place that wasn't the fridge, but those containers would have to be cleaned—

When A plus B equals C, you've still got to work out what bloody A is to find C.

"None of you deserve to have to clean up my messes," Scott burst out, "I should be able to do this on my own if I can just get my act together."

I don't need help. I've totally got this, I'm fine. I'm so completely fine, not that any of you would believe me if I said that. Not that he was doing a particularly good job of lying to himself right now either.

He was barely managing not to yell. 

His mind ran at lightning speed even as he knew he was missing out on the looks the others were throwing each other over his head.

He kept going, "I'd been meaning to do this for you guys, you know, as a nice breakfast we could enjoy on our day off..." Scott's voice jammed in his throat.

His brothers were here supporting him, but he still couldn't fix any of these problems because he was the cause of them.

"Scott." Virgil was as always his rock, there for him when Scott couldn't figure out which was was up. "You. Are. Allowed. To. Ask. For. And. Accept. Our. Help."

With how awful he was at remembering that no matter how many times everyone told him, he should let them permanent marker it onto his forehead and be done with it.

"We all need help with stuff. It doesn't make you incapable," Gordon said.

Scott never begrudged fetching Gordon heat packs when his back was bad so he didn't have to get up or rubbing at the sore muscles after missions or assisting with the physio exercises Gordon still had to do.

Alan butted in, “I mean I don’t like chores, ‘cause who does, but Scott, that’s totally unfair if you have to do everything!”

"Sprout, it's alright, I don't do everything," Scott reassured automatically.

Alan gave him a look of utter teenage incredulity. "Yeah, but you try to."

John’s arms tightened around him as he rested his chin on Scott’s head and said simply, "We help each other, on missions and at home. That’s who we are.”

Scott could hear the smile in John’s voice as added, “So, how about breakfast?”

He took a deep breath, filling up his lungs before letting it out, allowing his brothers’ presences steady him. “Breakfast.”

"They're Scott-special pancakes but that doesn't mean we can't all help," Gordon ruled firmly.

"We'd all rather that than you having to do it all on your own." John hesitated then added, "Scott, you remember when we used to cook with Mum and Dad? Sunday mornings, all of us crammed in the kitchen in our pyjamas, covered in flour, everyone helping out?"

Of course he remembered. It had hurt too much to think about for years and the ache of loss was still there, but now he had a chance to make new memories with his brothers right beside him. His small smile matched John's.

"It makes them more special, not less," Virgil said, "Because we get to spend the time together."

"Yeah Scotty, we want to hang out with you," Alan finished, and that was that.

The group hug transformed into a mission planning huddle, though John and Gordon remained propping Scott up on either side. 

Gordon was bouncing on his toes in anticipation, the fins on his clownfish towel flapping. "Okay. Where were we? Oh yeah, suggestions for us helping if you want us to give suggestions, because I don't want to stomp on what you're doing and take away your control over it 'cause that's really not actually helpful. But I do know how hard the 'thinking up what people should be doing' is when your brain is—" Gordon waved a hand about to complete the sentence. "So, yup."

Scott pressed his shoulder to Gordon's in silent appreciation of his thoughtfulness in the face of Scott's overwhelm. That's what he was, overwhelmed. 

"Having some ideas would help. Please."

"We'll clean up the kitchen together. We've all had a part in leaving stuff in the fridge too long," Virgil said calmly, like there wasn't any shame in it. Scott filed that away in the back of his mind for later consideration.

"Alan can take One to Aotearoa and get the eggs and blueberries. He needs the practice flight hours anyway," John put forward.

Alan’s face lit up as he immediately shook off Virgil's arm around his shoulders to jump to the ready. “Can I? Scott. Scott, please? I promise I won’t scratch her, I’ll be as careful as I am with Three, in fact I’ll be carefuller! Wait is that even a word? So can I?”

"Nope. Not quite a word," John chipped in affectionately when Alan had to take a breath.

"Alright, alright." Scott held his hands up. "But you'd better bring her back in one piece or you won't be getting any pancakes," he joked. Mostly. As long as One didn't end up wedged in the swimming pool...

One last moment was spent in the huddle with his brother as Alan darted back for a goodbye hug, no matter how short the flight would be. 

Putting their hands out in the centre in a stack, grinning at each other, they yelled in unison, “Tracies are go!!!”

Alan ran towards Scott's launch chute entrance, tossing over his shoulder, "Don't let Gordon eat them all before I get back!"

Gordon's indignant, "Hey!" was lost as the painting swung around, taking Alan with it.

"He does know that we need the eggs to make the pancakes which he is getting, right?" John asked as an aside.

"Eh, he'll work it out." Scott was looking after where Alan had gone wondering when their undeniably littlest brother had grown up so much. That applied regardless of continued brotherly taunting ‘cause wasn’t like he, John or Virgil had ever grown out of it.

Finally, the rest of them returned to the kitchen. Scott steeled himself as he stepped over the imaginary threshold separating it in the open plan design from the lounge.

The containers of spoilt food were sitting out on the bench where he'd left them, condensation dripping from the outsides in the subtropical heat. Unfinished pancake batter loomed from its bowl. Where would he even start? The multiple frying pans he'd need to cook such a big batch with were languishing in the bottom of the sink too.

Gordon set his hands on his hips, in a stand off against the mess. "Okey dokey. Scott, would you rather do dishes, begin emptying out the containers or make coffee so the Virge doesn't keel over? We'll split up the rest between us."

Scott found himself wandering over to the coffee station before he answered. It was the easiest, most straight forward task right now.

He bit his lips guiltily. "Can I?"

Virgil was already standing beside the sink, putting on an apron. He waved a pink rubber washing up glove at Scott in a 'go ahead' gesture, idly chewing on the corner of his flannel shirt collar.

That was about as much as he'd normally get out of Virgil before coffee, excluding missions and brotherly crises as this morning.

Scott inspected the array of coffee types set out in the cupboard next to the overly complicated, super fancy coffee machine Virgil insisted they have. It had more knobs and dials than Thunderbird Two's console he swore and that was already far too many, but Scott couldn't deny it made the best coffee.

None of that mattered though because above the machine was a laminated sheet of paper covered in Virgil's blocky handwriting outlining exactly the steps he had to follow in the order he had to do them, the same as a pre-flight checklist. Scott relaxed. Like a math problem, if he took it bit by bit he'd eventually end up at the right answer.

He'd make a cup for himself too. Not that it would wake him up, thanks ADHD, but he enjoyed the taste and it might do something for his focus.

Virgil's favourite coffee brand came in an electric green package with its name written in an indecipherable font most expected on a death metal album cover. Though at the strength Virgil drank it, it was pretty fitting. Scott had tried a sip once. Only once, as drinking undiluted tar was not his cup of, well, coffee. But Virgil loved the stuff.

Scott made the coffee and got out their biggest mug with the silly, absolutely tiny in proportion Thunderbird Two perched on the handle for his brother.

After passing Virgil his coffee, his brother turned it this way and that then grinned up at Scott. "Did you draw Two in the middle of the froth for me?"

Scott fetched his own coffee, before standing next to Virgil to squint into his mug. A lighter blob of foam floated in the centre. Those bits on the side could be the stubby wings. Though maybe Virgil was kidding, but he might not be so if he saw the Flying Turtle, the Great Green Bathtub, Thunderblob Two, who was Scott to protest artistic genius?

"Happy accident?" Scott told him as Virgil rolled his eyes and nudged his side.

Gordon stood on tip toe to look too. "It's not green. I mean, I could make it green!"

Virgil hunched protectively over his coffee. Do not get between Gordon and food dye was wisdom learned early.

"I think it looks more like Four," John deadpanned to significant outrage.

Scott cackled as Gordon attempted to mess up John's hair in revenge, both of them laughing at each other.

The coffee was warm going down as he took the moment to lean on Virgil as they both quietly sipped theirs, watching the others' antics.

His own mug had a comic of a Boeing aircraft crashing then bouncing down a runway, captioned 'boing.' Scott had giggled when he saw it in amongst the other mugs in the cupboard as he always did since Gordon and Alan had gifted it to him on his birthday, and decided he needed that today.

He held up for Virgil to inspect, along with John and Gordon glued together in their tackle hug. 

Laughing, he read the text out loud, complete with sound effects.  

Several hilarious minutes followed of them all repeating the sounds between them, bouncing around, echoing and playing off each other. Scott grinned so hard his cheeks ached. He needed this. 

Maybe it was the placebo effect or the time spent freely messing around with his brothers, but with the coffee in him Scott was starting to feel a little better about the world and possibly himself too. 

Better enough that he could face approaching the counter of suspicious containers to help Gordon.

Gordon was currently inspecting them with equal parts fascination and repulsion. He poked at the box Scott had found wedged at the very back of the fridge. 

"Do you reckon that's last month's meatloaf? Or maybe it was the stew. I think it's got its own ecosystem!"

Nope, nope, nope. It looked like it was about to crawl away. "Do not open that, Gords!"

Virgil and John gathered behind him, peering over his shoulders. Scott could tell without seeing exactly which utterly icked out face John made.

Come on, Scotty, he told himself, you've dealt with grosser things on rescues. And in raising very little brothers; he certainly did not miss some stuff. 

"We can sacrifice one container, right?" he said. Right? You had to know when to call it in the hopeless cases.

Unanimous noises of agreement were rapidly made. The container was summarily carried over to the bin with caution equivalent of handling radioactive waste. Scott wouldn't be surprised if it set off a geiger counter.

The punnet of blueberries he'd meant for the pancakes joined it. They were well beyond salvage. 

Scott tugged a hand through his hair, trying his best not to let the guilty regret swallow him up. The frustration surged, as even though they'd finally cleaned out the fridge and dealt with the stuff, he hadn't been able to prevent the waste happening in the first place.

He chewed on the inside of his cheek as he and Gordon wiped out the shelves so they could put back all the non-archaeological bottles of lurking sauces that he'd also taken out to get at the other stuff. The patch of mystery sticky substance probably didn't require as much scrubbing force as he was putting into it.

...it wasn't a mystery. It was the strawberry smoothie leftover from a morning Gordon had made too much that Scott had spilt while getting it out midnight to fuel his deadline induced frenzy of report writing. That had been only after he'd realised the reason he felt so shaky and sick was that he'd forgotten to eat all day despite several heavy, exhausting rescues.

After wiping up the last of it, he tossed the cloth into soapy sink with a splash. Immediately he was apologising for startling Virgil as the cloth flew past him as he did the dishes. 

There went Scott and another stupidly impulsive action. No one even had to tell him off for the gaping hole to open up in his chest. He stood in middle of the room, feet rooted to the floor, frozen as he resisted the urge to storm off to One's hanger or some other darker, damper crevice to curl up and probably sob about such a dumb mistake, so he wasn't abandoning his brothers.

Gordon's much smaller hand slipped into his own. 

"Do you wanna take a break, Scotty?"

Silently, honestly, Scott nodded. 

He followed Gordon's lead as he tugged Scott over to the patch of clear floor in the lounge by the full length windows.

Then, because this was Gordon, he just lay down on the ground with an exclamation of, "Floor time!"

Scott got down next to him and flopped onto his back staring upwards. At least attempting to work out where Gordon's offbeat schemes were going was a distraction from his thoughts tearing him apart. 

Virgil and John were still working away in the kitchen. The guilt gnawed. Scott screwed his eyes shut then rubbed the heels of his hands over them, hard enough to see spots before he opened them again as he really shouldn’t do that. He wound his fingers through the hem of his shirt, fidgeting.

Blue sky stretched above them, framed by the edge of the roof. Beyond the glass, sun shone through the cloudless expanse. Scott let himself relax into the floorboards.

"See, it's all good if you need some time out. We're proud of you, big bro." Gordon edged closer to press their shoulders and sides together.

"Thanks," Scott whispered.

He fixed his gaze back on the sky outside, on the wide, open, beautiful sky.

 "How did you know this would help?"

The fish nudged him. "Sometimes a change in perspective is what you need, getting in the ant's eye view if you will. You're too tall, the air gets thin up there."

"Like you'd get the heights, fish sticks," Scott joked.

Gordon's impression of mock offence, complete with hand clutching at his chest and shocked gasp, was ruined by his giggles.

For a moment he grew serious again, amber eyes taking Scott in. "And like literally it’s also a break so the rest of you can catch up with your brain. I get when there's so much going on up there anything extra tips you overboard."

Slowly, the world felt less like it was about to end as he briefly met Gordon eyes then turned to the blue above.

Scott bumped their heads together. "Thanks, again for everything."

"No problem, I'm always happy to help my bros."

It was impossible to miss the emphasis that this very much included Scott, despite him being the eldest.

Lying on the floor with Gordon in a pool of sunlight streaming in cut through the frantic spiralling he had been nose diving into again. 

Scott calculated the windspeed outside from the movement of the small branches at the tops of the pōhutukawa trees he could see upside-down at the corner of his vision. Little bits of leaves and debris, a constant pain to clean up on their heavily vegetated island danced across the concrete patio outside. 

"You reckon it's blowing about twenty, twenty-two kays per hour out there, Gords?" he said.

Gordon levered himself up and leant towards him to get a better look over to the ocean. "Yeah, thereabouts. Twelve knots."

They heard Virgil's hum from the kitchen before he chipped in, "Closer to twenty-four or so kays, I'd say."

"Bets all in?" The mirth in John's voice was obvious as he pulled up a holo, though Scott didn't doubt he had his own number in mind. "Our weather system puts Tracy Island local windspeed at twenty-two—"

Scott pumped a fist in the air.

"—Point nine kilometres per hour." 

Gordon cheered. "AKA twelve point four knots, boom!"

Scott rolled his eyes and high-fived Gordon in celebration.

With several more breaths of watching the sky, he sat up, stretching his arms above his head.

"Ready to go, Scooter?"

Scott stood before giving Gordon a hand up from the ground. "Yeah, I am." 

Coming back to the kitchen, the first thing Scott did was fall into Virgil's offered hug before he, Virgil Gordon and John gathered in a circle to work out what was next. When John got too wobbly on his feet to keep standing, he hopped up on the counter, sorting through the papers that had been stuck under the fridge magnets as Scott handed them to him. Categorised piles formed from the sticky note and post card debris heap before his eyes.

Alan's holo popped up on the com. "Hey everyone!"

Scott jumped at the sudden noise before grinning at his little brother. 

"I swear I was listening but what am I supposed to be getting, again?" Alan said, twisting one of his hoodie strings up before tucking the end into his mouth to chew on.

"It's alright Alan. Get a dozen eggs, actually make that two dozen if we want to have any for breakfast another day. The blueberries, a couple of packets. Bananas, while you're at it. Maybe more maple syrup, I don't know if we're out," Scott listed as he wandered over to the pantry to check. "More cornflakes!" he yelled back.

Scott returned to the kitchen proper to stick his head in the fridge to find out about their milk situation. He turned back to his brothers after determining they were probably two days from running out.

Alan on the holo glanced up from inspecting the bottle of caramel sauce that had materialised in his hand. "Uhh guys, I kinda missed everything after how many eggs?"

Scott winced. He should've noticed Alan was distracted by the overstimulating hell of a supermarket, and that as ADHDer number three he probably wasn't going to remember all the points on Scott's rambling list, hell, Scott didn't ever remember half of them and he was the one who'd just said them. He hadn't thought—

"Scott, I've got it." John waved his phone in the air before resuming tap-tapping out Scott's dictation. "Allie, I'll send you the list once I'm done.

"Awesome, 'kay thanks! Hey, can I get ice cream, it's half off?"

"Get the one with the marshmallows and the little fish!" Gordon exclaimed as he shoved his way into view. 

Alan hung up before Scott managed to get a word in edgeways. The fish of Gordon's favourite flavour were made of chocolate, not actual fish as Scott had feared the first time he'd tried it.

Alan would have the written list to refer back to, it was all alright. Scott didn't need to worry. Even if Alan had spent a while wandering the shops as One must've gotten there fast, his littlest brother had been more sensible than Scott had been in the past in calling them up for clarification. Or in the present.

It hadn't been the first time and it definitely wasn't the last, but Scott remembered getting sent out to the local shops to get bread as a teen and how he'd made sure to get everything from John's bagels, to the type of cereal Virgil liked and all the other stuff to go on sandwiches for school lunches, except he'd forgotten the bread and Dad had just sighed disappointedly, going back to his way more important work. Scott had barely managed to put everything away before bursting into tears, hiding in the kitchen by ducking below the cupboard level so no one would see at a glance. Damn, he hoped he was doing better than that with Alan.

"Thanks for the save, John," he murmured, approached to lean against the counter next to John.

Typing one-handedly, John reached out to squeeze Scott's hand with his other.

Instead of throwing himself back into the fray with frustrating emotions ready to boil over like he usually would, or joining in with whatever the fish and the tank were getting up to that involved overly loud whispering near the pantry, Scott boosted himself up to sit on the bench with John, carefully avoiding all the papers. With a quiet question so as not to surprise his brother as he was focusing, Scott ended up leaning his head on John's shoulder for a bit to rest. John leant into him too. 

A change of perspective did help. Scott was doing okay. Not perfect, but well enough, no matter how hard that was to admit that when he spent too many nights up worrying about all the things he should've somehow done better. As well, some part deep inside him nudged that maybe, possibly he also deserved the kindness he gave everyone else but never himself. 

Gordon spotted him taking the moment out and they shared a smile. Gordon being Gordon also gave him an enthusiastic thumbs up. See? Scott told himself, Progress.

Shortly, Alan's holo popped up again, back in Thunderbird One.

"Groceries are stowed, enroute to Tracy Island now!" Alan chirped.

"FAB," sounded off from all of them.

Everyone was now listening out for the sound of One. Several stomachs growled.

Soon, soon they'd finally have pancakes.

The minutes passed in suspense. Scott put the organised papers back on the fridge, filed them over at the desk or chucked them in the recycling as John directed.

They discovered the fishtank plan in the form of the opened bag of chocolate bits being squabbled over.

"Can we make some choc chip ones too?" Virgil was practically vibrating with excitement. 

Gordon unrepentantly stole a chocolate chip. "What he said," Gordon campaigned, despite Scott knowing that Gordon actually preferred the blueberry and banana pancakes as his top pick.

Finally rockets arrived with a roar, as the pool slid open and One disappeared into it.

Then the elevator dinged and Alan triumphantly stumbled out carrying far too many bags for one person. 

"Good work!" Scott cheered, as he and Virgil rushed to help.

"Thanks, Scotty!" Alan lit up. "Also I'm starving."

"Well we'll soon fix that problem!"

Scott took the eggs and cracked them one by one into the bowl of dry ingredients for his pancake batter. Just to show off, he did it one-handedly. The blueberries were washed and he added them in, popping a couple in his mouth too for good measure. Someone needed to taste test, it was tradition, all the way back to the ranch and small hands trying to sneak around Mum before she bopped them playfully with the sticky wooden spoon. The berries were the perfect ripeness, sweet with that tiny edge of tartness cutting through right.

"The baking powder," Scott began, "I don't—I've got no idea if its in there or not."

The pancakes wouldn't rise it he had forgotten,  they'd fall flat as unfortunate, failed pancakes. But in reverse, if he had put it in and added more—he'd made that mistake before. The resulting puffy ooze resembled a science experiment more than an edible food.

"I found the box of baking powder open on the bench, if that helps," Virgil gave him.

"Yeah, it was right next to the bowl. Looks like it had just been sat down." Gordon confirmed.

Alan's eyebrows were crumpled into an incredibly serious expression as he contemplated. "I think you probably did put it in, Scotty."

There was no guarantee. But he could take the leap, having faith in his brothers and the best guesses they all had.

"Okay, alright. The batter is done then!" he said, putting as much enthusiasm into his voice as he could muster.

Virgil shooed Alan out to set the table , following with plates so there wouldn't so many cooks in the kitchen with the potential to bump the hot stove.

Gordon set the several pans to heat, guarding over them as he added butter, melting and bubbling.

Scott lingered, beating the last lumps out of the mix with the whisk. He bumped John's dangling legs out of the way of the drawers so he could dig out a ladle. 

"Worse case scenario, we will make another batch. We have enough ingredients," John said quietly, just to him as the others danced about preparing things to eat the pancakes with, Gordon pretending he wasn't listening to them also.

Scott could always trust John to think through all the possibilities on missions, even, especially the hard ones. It was more reassuring to know that they had a plan if stuff all went to hell, than pretend it simply wouldn't. Biting experience had taught him better than that. 

This though was just making pancakes for his brothers, not saving the world from high stakes catastrophe. His brothers, who no matter how badly he messed up would always love him. 

Scott ladled batter out into the pans, flipping the pancakes over once they grew bubbly and cooked at the edges.

Even when the first one fell apart and turned out rather burnt on one side as he attempted to salvage it after flipping too soon, they all tore it to pieces and ate it anyway as a snack before the proper ones.

The next turned out golden brown, speckled with the blueberries.

Scott grinned happily, joy bubbling up inside his chest.

He made sure to make some blueberry and choc chip ones, and blueberry and banana ones, separating out the mixture. Then some all of the above ones too for good measure.

Virgil and Alan were singing along to a boppy pop song Scott would probably find stuck in his head later. Gordon twirled around the kitchen, dancing along with his wonderfully ridiculous clownfish towel swirling. John kept him company, nodding his head with the beat before he joined in the singing, swinging his legs slightly out of time, carefree. Scott flipped the pancakes, tossing them recklessly high in the air, waving the spatula and moving his whole body with the music, wiggling his hips and bouncing on his toes in excitement. 

Scott ate pancakes with his brothers, closer to noon than to breakfast time but everyone swore this lot were the best they'd had. They laughed together and the weight of the world pressing on Scott's shoulders didn't feel so heavy.

[jello-xo]

Let's Talk About Pavitr Prabhakar

Preface: I know nothing about Marvel. I've never been a marvel fan and the only things I know about the franchise is stuff I've gotten second hand from friends or generally existing on the wider internet, with the exception of Across the Spider-Verse. I'm gonna be honest I haven't even seen ITSV all the way through, I just saw the character designs for ATSV and knew I needed to watch it and now I'm obsessed with specifically only the sony animated spider-verse movies.

Further preface: I am only speaking from the standpoint of an angst writer and reader. In addition to this, please understand that the following is typical behavior from me about all my comfort characters, not just Pav. When I get emotionally attached to a character, I want to see them get emotionally damaged and broken down. Don't ask me why, it happens with every character I obsess over.

The potential angst for Pav in BTSV is set up perfectly. P E R F E C T L Y. I want to see Emotional Damage in BTSV bc it is right there, set up just right for maximum effect. Before I get into the actual grit of what I'm itching to see handled in the movie, let's go over the setup. 1. Pav's universe is slowly falling apart at the seams because of the canon break, as far as we're aware right now. 2. The canon event that was interrupted was the one that would set him up to better cope with this. It was the wake up call, the 'you can't save everyone', the 'there WILL be casualties you cannot stop', the 'you are not invincible and all-powerful', the 'this job isn't fun and games'. Pav is noticeably more optimistic than the rest of the characters because he hasn't had his wake up call and thinks he can do it all. He's experienced the joy of saving people without the crippling guilt of being unable to save everyone. He didn't have to come to terms with being unable to save one person he loves. And because of that, because he's still living in this mask of optimism and always being able to make things right, he's going to fall even harder when everything goes wrong. He still thinks he can do it all. He still thinks he's responsible for anything that goes wrong. He still thinks that if he stretches himself thin enough, if he just tries hard enough, he can make everything turn out okay.

I want to see him trying to cope with watching everything crumble around him. I want to see him scramble around trying to save people and fix things all while keeping up that bubbly, optimistic persona we've come to expect from the admittedly very few minutes of screen time he has. I want to see denial, so much denial, insisting that he can fix it, everything can be made right, everyone can be saved. I want to see the situation slowly--or quickly--get out of hand as he struggles to keep up with the deterioration. I want to see him running everywhere, pushing himself to his limits, trying to save as many people as he can. I want to see him have to be pulled away kicking and screaming and crying by one of the other characters literal seconds before what's left of his universe collapses on him. I want to see him on the other side of that portal in someone else's universe grasping on for dear life to the few strands of denial he has left before losing it because he finally comes to terms with the fact that because he didn't get the chance to learn that he can't save everyone, he ended up saving nobody. I also lowkey want Miles to be there to witness that so he has even more pressure behind the fact that saving his dad might cause the collapse of his universe too. I want to walk out of that movie theater emotionally broken.

I also want to see him get back up afterwards. There's definitely not enough time in the movie to properly show even part of the never ending, lifelong grieving process that comes with literally everything you know and love being glitched out of existence, but I want to see him reach out for a support system. I want to see him allow himself to lean on his friends. I want to see him surrounded by all this indescribably heart-stopping loss, and I want to see him take a deep breath and keep walking despite it. Keep surviving. Keep pushing through, keep helping his friends, keep breathing through the anguish and torment.

Why? Am I a sadist? Am I a masochist? Probably. Am I insane? Also maybe, idk, the second psychology referral (after the first one got rejected, fuck you Blue Shield) will take months to get an actual appointment for. But this is what I specialize in as a writer. There's nothing I love writing more than emotionally charged, vulnerable, or gut-wrenching scenes. And I see perfectly before me how wrong this can go for him. I haven't actually had the energy to write or think about writing for so long, but the gears are turning in overtime now.

I would like to note that I do not want him to die. That would be so unsatisfying of an arc... with the possible exception of him glitching out slowly until he fully disappears with his friends around him bc that would be a gut punch. But for the most part, I want him to live through this.

This could also tie in really interestingly with Miles' predicament, between saving his dad and preserving the canon--if that's even a real thing, bc from the get-go Miguel is breaking canon since he wasn't technically bitten, but that's another rant. This could serve as a warning, or as further motivation to find a loop-hole. Or maybe it is a multi-dimensional hole from The Spot after all and Miguel is talking out of his ass, which I wouldn't be surprised by (y'all're simps, but I have been Judging that man from the first minute I saw him).

Ok thank you for coming to my crazy-ass sadistic(?) TedTalk, pls tell me if I'm actually crazy for this bc I think I might be. But also if I don't walk out of that goddamn movie theater crying and speechless I will be asking for my money back. And then I will be probably writing it out myself...

wtf is wrong with me jfc okay i'm leaving now to go scrub my brain with bleach goodbye

[simandthedimbulbv2-0]

if you're not busy, could we learn more about Benjamin and Dylan Livright? Thank you!

As you wish 👉👉

These are the Livwrights; a normal American family living in the suburbs. Of course, appearances are only skin deep. 

Benjamin Livwright: The workaholic father of the Livwrights. Ben slaves away at his desk job, convinced that the hard working American really can make something of himself —or at least earn his living— a viewpoint resulting from generational trauma inflicted by his own father. He wants nothing more than to provide for his family, but his manner of doing so is far from healthy. 

While he comes off as a distant, unsympathetic father due to his disapproval of his son’s hobbies, his heart is in the right place.

He worries for his son’s wellbeing, afraid that the boy will be disillusioned—and even harmed— if he pursues his aspirations to become a musician. Unfortunately, as so often is the case, his worry manifests as anger. 

The viewpoint character of the song I Earn My Life, caricatured by his son in As Your Father I Expressly Forbid It

Works at The Company, a weirdly nondescript business owned by Mr. Morimichi (of Man-Made Object). Technically a coworker of Mr. Wolfgang, but thankfully not on the same floor.

Very sensitive about his receding hairline.

Has a curious affinity with the Antfolk of Spiral of Ants; so much so that after an encounter with the spiral (from which he rescues his son) he is permanently partially mutated into an ant person. It’s ok though. Tbh he’s a lot healthier for it, and his wife and son don’t mind.

Ironically, he was briefly part of a band in his youth. His father put a stop to it very quickly. 

Mary Livwright: Benjamin’s wife and Dylan’s mother. Homemaker. In her spare time, she likes to paint landscapes, but she doesn’t have much time for that. She mainly focuses on keeping the house spotless (perhaps as a coping mechanism more than anything) to avoid adding any unnecessary conflict to the feud between her husband and son. Mary puts on a brave face and plays the diplomat, but inside she’s terrified that her family will fall apart at any second. She desperately wants to help her husband and son reconcile, but to her distress, she isn’t sure how.

Suffers from anxiety 

The ‘wife’ mentioned in I Earn My Life— she does indeed hear her husband’s justifications a lot. 

Has a Bachelor of Arts in Painting

Uncannily good at strategy games 

Dylan Livwright: Ben and Mary’s son. Dylan is a clever young man with a passion for music. He wants nothing more than to become a guitarist and produce his own songs, a goal that puts him at odds with his father. A fairly typical grouchy teenager with all the sarcastic, ungrateful trappings. However, Dylan is also quite sensitive, artistic, and responsible. As much as he hates his father’s lack of attention and approval, he still loves him and wants to make him proud. 

Dylan is the in-universe author of a number of songs including As Your Father I Expressly Forbid It, Being a Rockstar, Go To Hollywood and Ancient Aliens.

Met professor Callenbach through a community service program. Callenbach eventually trusted him enough to befriend, and now Dylan plays the McFly to his Doc Brown. 

Dylan proves to be instrumental to Callenbach’s attempts to contact the mysterious MC, as his musical talents are capable of properly fueling and calibrating the prof’s tone-powered communication machine. 

Dylan lives in the same neighborhood as and is friends with the Moulinet boys despite being a few years older. He later helps Eugene figure out how to mix music. 

Refuses to cut his hair short no matter what his dad says. Eventually starts wearing it in a ponytail, though. 

Kenneth Livwright: The overbearing patriarch of the Livwright family. A retired investment banker and former business man with rather traditional values. He visits his son occasionally to keep an eye on how he’s doing, and to correct him if he’s getting off track.

Probably one of the most unsympathetic characters. Good thing he’s barely there. 

The family as a whole:

The whole family is in this weird temporal aesthetic range of 50s to 80s to ‘00s; mainly due to the vibe I get from their situation. Hopefully it isn’t too jarring. 

Benjamin’s ancestry is Danish, as a nod to Hans Christian Andersen, author of The Little Mermaid, which provided the partial inspiration for As Your Father I Expressly Forbid It (according to the commentary) 

The whole family has punny/symbolic names, of course, starting with the surname which is a corrupting of ‘live right’; something the family is constantly trying to do. 

Benjamin: short form ‘Ben’ means ‘son of’, as Ben’s life is completely dominated by his own father. In full, a corruption of ‘been living right’, which he is convinced he is doing. 

Mary: homophone of marry, because her only mention in the actual music is as the wife of the singer. Also homophone of ‘merry’, as she’s the most cheerful of the Livwrights (outwardly, at least). And finally, depending on the etymology, can relate to the sea, which goes back to the little mermaid references, and also her son because…

Dylan: meaning ‘born of the sea’. Initially chosen as a corruption of ‘didn’t live right’, but also as a nod to the Little Mermaid. Also provides symbolic opposition to his grandfathers influence, as his name is…

Kenneth: etymologically related to fire. Also a corruption of ‘Can live right’ in its short form Ken, and a corruption of ‘cannot live right’ in its full form, for obvious reasons. 

[owtenen]

Hi! Saw the story request stuff and I want to see if you can do ethopulse (one of the rarepairs I love).

The prompt/scenario can be playing in the rain and then getting sick afterwards if you'd like :]

ethopulse! i love them and yet i didn't know their ship name, I'm horrible.

since you are the first person to actually take this up, you get all of my love ! (/p) Here's 1800 words of Impulse and Etho dancing in the rain, and then immediately "regretting" it:

------ (read under cut OR on AO3)

Impulse couldn’t concentrate.

No matter what he did, he couldn’t get himself to focus on the task in front of him. It wasn’t like the redstone Gem asked him to do was hard. In fact, it was actually quite simple, but he had waited too long to actually complete it, and now he was up before sunrise trying to complete it.

As people started waking up, it became even more difficult to focus. His communicator was blowing up, and despite his best efforts, he found himself stopping his work to read just about every single one of them. 

It was just because he was a nice guy, not because he was procrastinating.

He saw Gem once or twice while he was working on the redstone, she didn’t say much, but he could tell she was getting anxious to have it done. Every time he tried to focus, it was like the universe had to put something more interesting in front of him. An interesting comms message, a weird sound coming from inside the dark cave.

Etho.

Impulse shot up quickly hitting his head on the ceiling above him. Why did he always insist on building in such small spaces, it wasn’t good for his back.

“Heyo.” Etho said, ducking his head into the hole that Impulse was currently hunched over in. “Whatcha doin?”

“Hey, Etho.” He rubbed his hands over his pants, the redstone dust staining it like dirt. “Just this piston door for Gem.”

“Uh, huh..” Etho hummed, craning his neck to look at the wires, “How long have you been down here?”

Impulsed, huffed, and looked at his watch, “A couple hours?”

Etho laughed, “A couple hours?”

“Hey!” Impulse whined, “I’ve been distracted! I can’t help it.”

“Need some help?” Impulse noticed, despite the mask, that Etho was smiling. 

“Why not, come here.” He reached around and grabbed his shovel, handing it over to Etho, “Dig a little more so we have some room.”

Etho just hummed again, taking the shovel and immediately walking back outside into the fresh air. Impulse didn’t even have a second to ask what he was doing before the small cave he had made himself collapsed, exposing the orange sunrise and just narrowly missing himself and the redstone. “What was that?!”

Etho laughed again, and Impulse tried really hard to keep a horrified facial expression, “It’s easier to work in the sun, Impulse.”

“I guess so…” Impulse grumbled, turning back around to not focus on how Etho looked in the morning sun. “Can you pass me that piston?” Etho came back down to Impulse’s level, coping his crouching position and passing him the requested part.

They stayed silent for a while, apart from the occasional request for materials or an expletive when the redstone didn’t work. But Impulse found, with Etho by his side, he got the redstone done in record time, and sooner than he expected they were standing above ground again, placing the last pressure plate.

“You wanna do the honors?” Impulse prompted, stepping back and motioning for Etho to go ahead.

“It would be my honor.” Etho bowed dramatically, snickering softly to himself as he stepped one foot on the pressure plate. It opened beautifully and efficiently, and Impulse sighed in relief. “Looks like you did a pretty good job, Impulse.”

The older man couldn’t help the blush crawling up his face, and couldn’t help it getting redder when he realized what was happening, “Wouldn’t be as perfect without your help.”

Instead of responding, Etho just held out his hand and looked up, flinching slightly after a couple of seconds, “It’s raining.”

Impulse looked up too, and almost instantly a thick drop of water landed on his forehead, “Thank God we finished, that would have been a nightmare with the dust.”

As the rain started coming down faster, Impulse watched as Etho cupped his hands, allowing the water to fill there and mix with the redstone that had accumulated on his fingers, “I love the rain.” He said, almost absently.

“Well, we should probably get inside, we don’t want to get sick.”

Etho just looked up, letting out a groan, “Oh you’re no fun, Impulse! Common-” He stepped towards Impulse and took his hand, leading them down the hill to the entrance of Impulse’s base. Before stepping inside though, Etho looked up at the sky and closed his eyes, allowing the now practically pouring rain to beat down on his face.

Impulse, despite himself, smiled, “Etho, you’re getting all wet, let’s go inside.”

Etho just looked back at Impulse with defiance in his eyes, without saying a word, he removed his mask and threw it off to the side, revealing the crooked smirk that was underneath. Impulse couldn’t contain the soft inhale that left his mouth when Etho took off his mask. It wasn’t like the man had never seen Etho without it, but he could count the times he had on one hand, and it always amazed him how different he looked without it. 

Etho’s face was shiny from the rain, and his hair was a mop of gray framing it like a masterpiece. The smaller strands had already begun to stick to his face, and Impulse had to look away when Etho ran a slender hand through it. “You don’t like the rain?” He questioned and Impulse had the cough to make extra sure his voice didn’t sound any different

“I didn’t say that but-”

“No but-s!” Etho once again grabbed Impulse by the arms, pulling him closer. They were both soaked now, and Impulse had half a mind to run a hand through his own hair, suddenly self-conscious in front of the other man. “Dance with me.” Etho's closed-lip smile got even bigger, and he began swaying dramatically to pull Impulse’s arms with him.

Impulse just looked at Etho with a comically confused expression, but when he watched Etho close his eyes and tilt his head back up towards the sky again, his frown turned into a beaming smile, and he couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled up from his chest. “There’s not even music!”

So Etho started humming, and Impulse’s heart just about flew out of his chest. Impulse knew Etho, they were friends, they had been for years. He’d seen Etho at his worst, on the verge of tears or at the height of anger. He’d seen Etho at his happiest, when he won a game or laughed at a joke. He’d seen Etho tired out of his mind after a full day of material gathering, and he had seen Etho bored to death at official group meetings. But Etho was none of these things during this moment, this Etho was carefree, this Etho was content.

This Etho looked beautiful when the orange sunrise danced off his wet skin like a fire.

Impulse opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again after a few moments. Instead of saying all the things he was thinking, he allowed himself to flow with Etho’s movements and get soaked through with rain. Because Etho loved the rain, and Impulse found that with Etho, he did too.

~

Impulse found out that Etho was sick through Tango.

He rolled his eyes when he first found out, he had wanted to scream I told you so at him too. He contemplated telling Tango why Etho was sick, but decided it would be best to just keep that memory for himself. After all, he loved replaying it over and over again when he was alone.

Tango asked Impulse to check on him if he had the time, and Impulse always had the time for Etho. After making some soup (he did make quite good soup, it was like, his whole thing), he flew over to Etho’s base and climbed up the steps. It was only one room so far, but it looked beautiful.

“Etho?” Impulse spoke into the room, hearing his voice bounce off the walls and echo back at him. “Tango told me your secret.” He heard a cough coming from back down the stairs and under the base. He smiled and made his way over there, knocking on the half-built wall-frame lightly, “Can I come in?”

“No.” Impulse could hear Etho’s smile. “I’m fine, I’ll come out to you.” Impulse just hummed a response and stepped back, and after a few moments Etho stepped out from behind a wall of hoppers into Impulse’s view

He laughed, because honestly, Etho in this moment was probably one of the funniest things he’d ever seen. Etho was a pretty tall guy, but he currently had a massive blanket over his shoulders that made him look like he was 3 feet tall, and his little bunny slipper-ed feet were sticking out of the bottom like little animals trying to sneakily hunt for prey. If that wasn’t enough, he had a little stuffed green alien on top of his head, and it took Impulse a second to realize it was a hat.

“Nice outfit.”

Etho just stuck out his tongue, his nose was bright red, and his face was puffy with sleep, “Thank you, I dressed up for you.”

“How kind of you, especially since you’re sick and all that.”

“I’m not sick.” Impulse just raised his eyebrows, and Etho pressed his shoulder back, “I’m not!”

“You look terrible.”

“Maybe I just always look terrible.” Etho retorted.

“You always look amazing.”

Etho didn’t have a retort to that, instead his cheeks went pink to match his nose, “What’s in the bag?”

Impulse looked down and then raised the paper bag, “It’s soup, but I guess if you’re not sick….”

Etho stepped forward, one arm popping out of the blanket robe, “I’ll still have the soup.”

Impulse laughed, but his eyes turned soft soon after, “Are you okay though? We shouldn’t have stayed out in the rain that long…” He looked down, obviously feeling a little guilty.

“Don’t worry about it.” Etho said, also soft and serious for a moment, “It’s not that bad, and it was fun.”

“It was really fun…”

“And…” Etho said, hopping forward so that he was mere inches from Impulse, “It was totally worth it.”

Impulse felt his cheeks heat up, and he stuttered a bit before properly responding, “I, uh,  didn’t know you could sing.”

Etho laughed a little, “Only in the rain, isn’t that how the song goes?” He stepped back again, “Common in, this soup won’t stop my sickness if it stays in the bag."

When Etho took the bag and motioned for Impulse to follow him over into his work area, he did. His smile was even bigger than yesterday, and he felt his chest grow big with happiness. “I knew it.”

[i-love-an-alcoholic]

Story of M: How I became an addict, Part One

CONTENT WARNING: Alcohol and drug abuse

Edit: I want to add that alcohol withdrawal is potentially lethal and should NEVER be attempted without consulting a medical professional!

I began using alcohol as a coping mechanism at age 17. I was an outcast at school. My parents' marriage was nothing but a facade and my mother took her frustrations about their impending divorce out on me. I had very little hope for the future and being told I'd never amount to anything did not help. I had always dreamed of becoming a visual artist but felt I had no talent at all and I was doomed to fail at everything I tried. I had been diagnosed with depression at 14 and received counseling for it which was a positive, but as soon as the bi-weekly session was over I had to return to my regular life which was becoming more and more unbearable every day.

My parents didn't drink a lot, but we had a fairly well-stocked liquor cabinet full of souvenir bottles from my father's travels. "Nobody's going to drink these anyway", I thought and took some of the bottles and hid them in my closet. After my parents and sibling went to bed, I'd take a bottle and force its contents down my throat. My room was on the opposite side of our apartment from other bedrooms and it also had a convenient second bathroom right next to it, so when I had had too much I could throw up discreetly without waking them up.

I did this multiple times a week. My grades went down because I was groggy and hung over at school. One time I took a whole bottle of champagne and went outside to drink it. I was sitting on a park bench next to a playground, drinking straight from the bottle, all alone.

Legal drinking age is 18 where I live, and oddly enough, turning 18 slowed down my drinking. I didn't have to drink my parents' booze or hide my alcohol use any longer, but I had to buy it myself and store it in the fridge where my mother would see and comment about it. Things were pretty good for a while. I graduated from school with average grades, managed to get into a university and moved out at 19, at the same time my parents divorced.

I failed hard at uni. After two years, at 21, I changed schools into a more practical one, and for the first time in a long time, felt good about myself. I did well academically and was popular within our group. I even got a good friend, J. J was a party dude and we partied a lot, more than everybody else. Despite that everything was good for a year or so.

At the time I was in a relationship with a very troubled guy (I could go on forever about him, but I digress) who got into designer drugs and convinced me to try them too. To this day I have no idea what the stuff even was, but I believe it was a synthetic cannabinoid. I was sold. I took that stuff daily for several weeks, while neglecting my schoolwork. After that I would actively seek drugs in addition to binge drinking 2 to 3 times a week.

Despite this I managed to get my degree and landed a fairly well-paid job straigh out of school. I had to move cities for my job, but stayed in a long-distance relationship with the aforementioned troubled guy mainly because of his contacts. My job was at times very stressful, which I used to justify my binge drinking and occasional drug use. Work hard, party harder and so forth. I was around 26 when I began to notice negative side effects of binge drinking: I was overweight, bloated, irritable when sober and had scary hangovers. I tried to quit drinking, but found out I couldn't do it for more than a week.

Since I couldn't quit on my own, I went to see a doctor and asked for an Antabus (disulfiram) prescription which he happily gave to me. I know that Antabus does not work for everybody but it helped me immensely. At first everything was terrible, but after some weeks it got easier and easier until all the cravings were completely gone and I felt like a new person. All's well that ends well, right?

Wrong. To be continued.

[thedegu]

oc master list:

hey there i have a few posts with a few of my ocs but I've decided to put them all in one place. I've reused some text from previous posts but tweaked a few things

details under the cut

ttrpg blorbos

The characters I'm currently playing on rotation.

Omolale "Ale":

(they/he/she/it), Omolale is a mausraman (human subrace homebrew) binder (dnd 3.5 class), They're the old gods specialist little guy, but they really do not like being chosen for four different warring factions. They were put on this planet for a good time, not a long time, and are just baffled why so many people hold them up and say, "This is the dude (gender neutral) I want". Recently found out that they aren't even from the current universe they reside within and are just so in over their head when they want to just hang and get high and maybe smack some monsters for cash, but the multiverse seems to have other plans for them.

Madea:

(she/they/depends on what face she's wearing)A fiendish changling who was raised in a church (did not go well) has a totally normal relationship with the girl she was raised with and has very good coping mechanisms (this is sarcasm). Has so much fire magic and really can only cast fire magic. her highest stat is her charisma, which is 16, and her lowest is strength at 8. Girlfailure is doomed by the narrative and is just falling apart at the seams. Killed her shitty dad at least

Rossien Ted'otha Srylora of House Hollybush:

(he/him) an elf beaskin wizard from the ficcoria (basically the fairy country) who came from a lower-noble family and was blessed to be a bearskin, he looks like a large slender owl with humanoid proportions. He was the second born of four siblings, the second son of a matriarchal family, so once his sister was born, he was left to more or less be raised by his uncle. though that was not the least of his woes, as his family was attacked and he found himself outside of ficcoria accidentally, a one-way trip to anyone who knows. he did try to settle down and make a family of his own, getting married and starting school himself, but that ended with a messy divorce, and now he's somehow a part of an adventuring group with an insanity effect after looking at a cursed book for too long. he's doing fiiiiiiineeee

Tyblin Stonecutter:

(she/her) Tyblin Stonecutter is a reskin/homebrew of the genie Warlock combined with the drakewarden ranger, to make a dragon warlock (seriously WOTC why haven't you made one???), shes a goblin and I love her SOOOO MUCH YOU GUYS. She's just a little guy with a big stupid dog who's also a dragon that loves each other so much. She loves her mom and loves being an adventurer. her core personal quest is finding out who her dad is as she has a bit of a Mama-Mia! situation going on. it's my turn to play the dragon padlock! she's just a little goblin girl now <3

related: Lux

(she/he) Lux is a dragon who Tyblin accidentally summoned when she was tasked with translating some runes. He is Tyblin's best friend ever and loves her soooooo much. She's basically just a Big Dog that can talk and is also a nuclear warhead, but its okay because he loves everyone so much all of the time unless they're mean to Tyblin

npc blorbos

Because any dm has their favorites <3

Dorian:

(he/any) A brass dragon of Othos, he is dead now..... but that's okay, it was a natural death. before that, he was cursed to live as a human for a number of years, and his memories of being a dragon were wiped until one day, a group of adventures freed his mind and broke the curse. he was chill and ran a cool underground city, things are different without him around though....

Joan:

(she/her) Joan was one of my favorites to run. She's 18, she's 50, she's a spoiled brat, she's seen the horrors of war, she's an atheist who works directly for a goddess, she hates adventurers, her brother was an adventurer, she's dead, she kills undead for her job, her best friend is a dog, and she's even asexual. Now she's even more dead because the last vestige of the goddess animating her was destroyed. but the party got a cool undead dog out of it at least.

related: Caine

The previously described dog. A church grim older than the previous death goddess, the goodest boi.

Luna:

(she/her) a moon rabbit from Reath my modern magic setting. when the dark and light sides of the moon, her mother and father respectively, were waring she was sent to earth for protection, she was raised by humans and fell in love with a human before forcibly being returned to the moon. The stories say her memories were whipped when she returned home, but that was just a story to make the mortals feel more comfortable. Now, three hundred years later, she looks back at the earth and finds love again. Maybe a bit obsessively and unhealthily but she's learning. She's young compared to her sisters and parents, so she's a bit brash and bull-headed, but that's why we love her.

Onis:

(he/they) the god of anxiety storytelling. The newest god to join the pantheon of Nebdisc Onis has a lot to learn and is just way over his head. Look, it wasn't his fault he was a small-time fae who unintentionally gained a cult before all of the gods went missing, so once there was that power vacuum, he realistically had one of the biggest worshiping bases. he didn't know that was going to happen, and he needs people to stop asking him questions because he has just as much information as anyone else in this situation. Thank you very much. Thankfully, he has his emotional support personification of winter helping him out.

related: The North Wind

A giant boar who's (pun intended) very chill. Not quite a god but not anything else. The North Wind is the personification of winter, his siblings, the southern, eastern, and western winds control the seasons of the world of Othos. The first Force of Nature I designed, and I was not expecting to become such a huge part of the lore of Othos, but here we are! the first of seven named forces of nature but I'm sure I will design more. Well, seven if you don't count the animal kings, which are technically forces of nature but less so as their domains are less conceptual and more "all of horeses" VS. "spring" or "Entropy"

non-ttrpg related OCs

While most of these were once dnd OCs, they've more or less just turned into generic OCs due to the games they were designed for dyeing but I still like the characters

Alexander "Alex" Grosser

(he/him) oh, my problematic bbg, one of my oldest Ocs and the starting point for Reath, Alex, has always lived in the back of my brain. Alexander killed his father and watched his mother die, one of the most powerful magic users of his age and terrified of death. Obsessive and a genius, all of these ingredients combine to make someone who's destined to fly too close to the sun...

related:sol

(does not have a concept of gender but generally uses he/him) Alexander's familiar, a tome-bound family created by a wizard in the 15th century. He's only been bound to a handful of times because he's powerful and picky; with Alexandar, he's taken on the form of a snake-- the titular Sun Serpent. he is also very ambitious so I'm sure the two teaming up will defiantly be totally okay.

Blake and Annette

(he/him and she/her) a father-daughter duio that was made at the same time as the first rendition of Alex, when he was known as Rann. first designed during my Flipnote days, Blake and Anette are two dragons that are struggling to find a home-- both in their story and for me to find an appropriate world and narrative to place them in. I have like a LOT of Dragon OCs; they all live in a village together in my brain; these two are just their representatives because to list them all, this list would, no joke, be twice as long.

Brhit:

(he/they) now, THIS is my oldest OC. I made him in my childhood home in the basement after my friend told me about one piece (long story). He's been in basically every world I've created, and while he does now have a permanent home, I still want a proper story for my deer-bear-cat-creatue. Right now, he resides within the Somewhen Else, which is a metanarrative location- as while he cannot escape the fourth wall he is acutely aware of it and resigned to his lot in whatever life this is. he is aware that I am his sleeping godhead and he hates me personally for that :)

Clarabelle "Clara":

My fursona, she's a strawberry milk cow :)

Hunt:

(she/her) A tiefling paladin. She went through the horrors and instead of saving anyone, she chose to become worse and mentally unwell; mostly culminating in falling in love with a usurper death goddess and being totally normal about that, wanting to show the love of her goddess to anyone who will listen (by killing them). it is a mutual love though and both wait with baited breath until the day they can once again embrace.

Ida:

(she/her) a retired human werewolf adventurer. Before, She went out for milk (a cure to her lycanthropy) for a decade. Decided that she had enough control over her power to go back home and is not back to being a lesbian housewife <3 Also. She has a loving wife, a biological son whom she has a strained relationship with (see leaving for a decade), and an adopted tiefling son who she found on the side of the road and took home like a mangy dog.

Mauve Cornette:

Back to non-TTRPG OCs: Mauve (they/them) is a dragon of Reath with a hoard of books. In the modern day, they own a library/book store. They have a few employees and had a fling with a very powerful wizard a few years back. They are one of two hundred known dragons who are not in hibernation at this time. and they're real fans of humans! Friendly, outgoing, and a great host, Mauve has had some rough spots (see that fling with a powerful wizard), and even if they were erased from most people's memories, it's not like they care about all of that... nope nope nope not one bit! It's, not like they taught dragon time magic to a megalomaniac because they were in love! that's defiantly not a mistake they made.

Related: anna

my Reath self-insert, the person who is archiving all of the documents in Mauve's library, and the person who wrote the in-universe website that irl holds some of my Reath writings

Rupert Northcroft: (he/him)

(he/any) Rupert is a minotaur raised by humans. he comes from a noble family and, after his father's death, decides to go out on his own-- only after stealing a family heirloom (Sword). Found a cool snake guy and is now chillin' in the big city as an influencer. yes, surprise! Ruppert is a modern character! NOT Reath, an unspecified modern high magic setting. i wuv him

Xavia:

(she/her) my first ever ttrpg character!! my lovely goat girl was originally made in the ttrpg Tephra but has been ported to a number of systems because she lives rent-free in my head. tbh even for my first-ever ttrpg character, I think she's rather strong. probably in no small part she has had many rewrites and revamps over the years. Her story is she woke up in a basement with no idea of who she was, missing her right arm, her head mismatched to her body, goat legs sewn on as well as her horns, one horse eye and tail, and Autopsy scars on her chest. she stumbled out of that basement as a kid and eventually found herself as a watchmaker's apprentice, making herself a prosthetic and a few other bits and bobs-- mostly a gun. after the passing of her master, she ended up on the road looking for answers to her creation that are yet to be solved... (IE: I've never played her past session one)

[self-shippy]

🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈

Ah, perfect! Two facts for each of my four s/is!!

Kai’s old name, Yorokobi, actually means “Joy” in Japanese. The intention was to make him a faux Jojo in the sense that his translated name would be JOy kuJO. Then I made him trans and the entire idea crashed and burned.

Speaking of Kai being trans, Kai is the least like me of the rest of my s/is because he’s pure binary man. He comes from a time when I thought I was a trans man, and I felt like making him genderfluid would take away from his character arc a little.

Robin didn’t have a name for a very long time! I simply referred to them as “my Hunter x Hunter s/i”, since I couldn’t think of a name that would fit both the HxH universe and my own preferences. Later, after a name change, I realized that Robin was a great fit.

Robin is also my only s/i with bad parents! Kai has Holly, since he’s part of the Kujo family, and the other two don’t have parents at all. I took my own parents and exaggerated their flaws as a way of coping with my own predicament of not being able to be out to my family.

Jay is the s/i that I deviated the most from canon with! I didn’t know too much about Fatal Fury lore when I started making them, so I decided that I would simply make my own storyline. And I think I did a pretty good job!

Deciding how Jay would fight was a little difficult. I wanted them to have a moveset that would set them apart from all of the other characters. In the end, I decided to use their backstory as a tool, and so they fight with cookware! They throw cutting knives at opponents, hit them with frying pans, and block incoming attacks with cutting boards!

Fukuro is my most traditionally feminine s/i. They were made while I felt like a girl, and although I don’t feel like that right now, their design is still feminine in my head. For now, at least.

Fukuro’s name translates to “Owl” in Japanese! I decided that after Jay and Robin, I’d stay on the bird name trend. This also makes Fukuro my only s/i with a purely Japanese name… at the moment, at least. (Kai is also a German name, in case you were wondering.)

[hes-a-rainbow]

Heaven and Hell (Chapter 5) ~ e.m.

A/N: This will be the final part for now but I do really love this story so I will be updating after the holidays!

Summary: Noah and Eddie finally have a heart to heart and realize 

Warnings: 18+ for mature content, angst, unedited MESS, mentions of drug abuse, depression, reference to child birth, language, dummies in love, mentions of alcohol, (let me know if I miss anything!)

Word Count: 3k

(Divider by @silkholland​)

SERIES MASTERLIST

AO3

Eddie’s not sure what he’s supposed to feel at this moment. Relief, maybe? But all he feels is…loss. Loss of something he never really had. Loss for something he never really knew he wanted until just a few hours prior.

The tears that have been stinging right behind his eye finally fall free but he’s not completely sure he knows why.

Was he mad at the prospect of her keeping such a big secret from him? Yes of course! But was a piece of him hoping it was true? A little bit...

He would’ve been able to get over the fact she lied rather quickly, probably faster than he’d like to admit, and then they would be able to start off right where they left off. They could finally be a family. He would be a dad. And he wouldn’t hold it against her –no– because they had all reacted to their trauma differently.

He recalls seeing a trauma counselor after he got out of the hospital, and he remembers her saying that he shouldn’t get frustrated with his friends' reactions. Some people tend to retreat or run away but that is just how they cope with things. And Eddie could forgive her because he had already forgiven her the second she left him.

He turns his head to the side, using his long hair as a type of curtain to briefly wipe away a tear from his cheek. “I’m sorry,” He sniffs, “I shouldn’t have done that in front of everyone. I was drinking and Harrington said these things that just got caught up in my head and I–” He stops when he feels the bed dip down next to him. He turns and sees that she’s no longer standing in front of him but lying down across the bed horizontally, legs leaning off the sides. Her hands are on her stomach as she stares up at the ceiling.

“His name is Ben.” She begins as she stares straight up at the ceiling, “When I first got to New York City, I wasn’t…I wasn’t handling myself well after…everything. I had trouble sleeping, I kept having these nightmares about–,” She pauses before visibly swallowing and taking a deep breath, “about what happened in the Upside Down. But it was different. It was what could have happened.

“I tried to put myself into my college work, but working two jobs while being a full time student left little time for sleep. Which was fine by me,” She scoffs quietly, “because the last thing I wanted to do was relieve all of it every time I closed my eyes. So I found some people on campus, they sold pills and stuff. Stuff to keep you awake during exams and shit. I started taking that, but turns out sleep deprivation isn’t the best creative tool.” She turned her head to look towards Eddie, a dead look in her eyes, “I flunked out. I was only two semesters in. Couldn’t even make it the whole year.”

Eddie is shocked by this revelation. She was always the most creative person he knew. She had helped in writing his campaigns for years. He remembers how she came back from after her first semester at community college with straight A’s, her professors telling her that at this rate, she might even be able to get a scholarship to finish up at a four year university.

Eddie shook his head, “No. No, you’re an amazing writer. That college can go fuck itself.”

She snorts, “No, they were right. It was as if every single ounce of creativity had left my body. I had major writer's block. My work was mediocre at best and they saw right through it.”

Eddie laid down on the bed beside her, staring up at the plain white ceiling just as she did. They only lay inches apart but he was hyper aware of just how close she was.

“I felt like I had hit rock bottom. My parents were all the way upstate and I didn’t have a lot of friends because I was working so much. But then I met this guy,” Eddie’s breath hitches in his throat but he tries not to make a sound as she continues, “I’ll spare you all the details but–”

“Much appreciated.” He couldn’t help himself and she brought her hand up to knock into his side a bit. They both huff out a laugh.

“I guess, I don’t know, we weren’t careful but it only takes one time, ya know?” He knew it was a rhetorical question but he hums back in response anyway.

“We weren’t even officially dating or anything, I think it was just a pass time until we both found something better. He told me he didn’t want a baby. And I told him that was fine but I did. There wasn’t a big blow out or anything, he just didn’t want to be involved and that was that.”

Eddie turns his head to look at her while she continues, “I thought maybe it was a gift from the universe or something.” She scoffs, “After all the bad things that we’ve been through; all the pain and the hurt, that maybe this was going to be a good thing. I had literally been through hell and back so motherhood would surely be a walk in the park.” She finally turns to look at him, “It isn’t.”

She looks back up to the ceiling, “Scarlett came early because she’s just as stubborn as her mother. My due date wasn’t for another three weeks and I was still packing up my apartment to move in with my parents upstate. I woke up thinking I peed my fucking pants but turns out that was just her.” He watches as she smiles gently at the memory.

“I was fucking terrified.” She whispers into the quiet room, “I had called my parents but they were hours away and the doctor said I needed to start pushing right away.” She stops, reaching out a hand to grab a hold of his, he squeezes it to let her know he’s still listening, and more importantly, he’s still there. “I was so scared something would go wrong. I was scared something would happen and she would be all alone just like I was in the nightmares.” Noah’s voice becomes shakier as she continues, “There was a split second after she was born, where it felt like the earth had stood still. The room was so quiet even with all the monitors going and all the different doctors and nurses. I could’ve sworn something was wrong, I was so scared I had lost her before I even had her.” Her voice breaks, and Eddie watches as she closes her eyes to let the tears fall.

He leans up on the arm of the hand she’s holding using his free hand to wipe the tears from her cheeks. She opens her eyes and smiles at him, squeezing his hand and unintentionally squeezing his heart. “And then she let out the biggest fucking scream I’ve ever heard. And it was the best song I’ve ever heard in my life.”

Eddie grins, lifting their clasped hands to leave a kiss on the back of hers. He fears slightly that it may not have been appropriate but she doesn’t seem to mind as she stares up into his eyes.

“Better than Metallica?” He quips and another tear falls from her eye as she laughs.

“So much fucking better, Eds.” He chuckles with her as he feels a tear run down his cheek. She frowns when she sees it, reaching up with her free hand to wipe it away.

“I would’ve been there for you,” He mumbles into the back of their clasped hands but he knows she can hear him.

“You would’ve been there while I gave birth to another mans’ child?” She asks genuinely.

And he doesn’t even need a second before answering, “Of course I would have.”

A new set of tears roll down her cheeks as she nods. “I’m sorry, Eds.”

“For what?”

“For leaving the way I did,” She leans towards him so they're both face to face, hands still clasped together, “I was so scared after Vecna. Everything changed so fast and I couldn’t help but feel like you getting dragged into all of it was somehow my fault.”

“Baby–” The name slips out before he can stop himself, but she shakes her head, silencing him.

“I know, I know what you’re going to say and I know you’re right but our brains have a funny way of tricking us sometimes.” He nods along as she continues, “I thought my whole life that I just wanted to get out of Hawkins. I thought this whole town was holding me back but in reality, everything I ever wanted, ever needed, was always right here.” She brings her free hand up to brush her thumb across his damp cheek before noticing a rogue curl and putting it behind his ear.

“I wished she was yours.” Eddie just blinks at her confession, his grip tightening on her hand, “I knew the timeline wasn’t right, but a part of me thought maybe but–”

“And there’s absolutely no chance?”

She shakes her head solemnly, “We didn’t sleep together at all after Vecna. Your wounds–and, and I just wasn’t–”

“No, I know, I know. I’m sorry, I just had to ask.” She gives him a smile but he can see it's full of pity and he doesn’t like it one bit. “Steve said,” He clears his throat, “Steve said she had brown curls and eyes like mine.”

“She does have brown curls, big and unruly but I guess I just have a type.” Eddie turns away and huffs but she places her hand back on his cheek to look at her, “Sorry…But Harrington’s an idiot.”

Eddie laughs for real at that and reaches down to pull off an imaginary string off the quilted comforter they lay on, “You don’t have to tell me that.”

“Because last time I checked you and I both had brown eyes,” She runs her thumb across Eddie’s eyebrow, “and Scarlett’s eyes are blue.”

Eddie feels all the hopefulness wash out of him at once. He feels like something is sitting on his chest and he swears his heart physically hurts.

He chuckles humorlessly, “I don’t know why I’m so disappointed,” He confesses “I’ve never even met her.”

“It wasn’t because–I don’t want you to think I slept with Ben because I stopped loving you or something. I was hurting and he was there and–”

Eddie sits up completely, pulling her up with him. He takes her face in both of his hands, “Hey, hey–It’s okay. You don’t have to explain anything to me.”

“I know, but it was so soon after I left I just don’t want you to think–”

“Hey,” He brushes his thumb across her cheek, “I don’t think. Ever. You know that.” She pushes his shoulder gently but immediately pulls him back towards her. She stares at him for a few moments before finally admitting, “I wish I never left Hawkins.”

“Mhm,” He shakes his head, “Don’t say that. If you never left Hawkins, you wouldn’t have Scarlett. We were all much younger back then and we didn’t know how to deal with everything we saw–everything we went through. And you’re here now. That’s what’s important.”

She pulls him in for a hug, one that is four years overdue. He takes in her scent, the feeling of her arms around him, and sends a prayer out to whatever deity that is listening to never take her away from him again.

It’s different this time. It has to be.

She pulls away much too fast for his liking, her eyes widen as she catches something over his shoulder. He turns around quickly spotting the old alarm clock that now reads 12:32am.

“Oh shit, I’ve got to go.” Noah jumps off the bed, pulling her dress down as she wipes at her cheeks.

“What’s wrong? Carriage turns into a pumpkin after midnight?” She rolls her eyes at him as she opens the door, he’s up on his feet quickly as he realizes she’s serious.

“I’ve got to open up the shop tomorrow.”

“Shop doesn’t open until 10.”

“I know, but I’m going in early to help Pop reorganize some financial shit and I still have to get Scarlett up and ready for school before the bus comes.” She scurries down the stairs and he follows down just as fast. The party seems to be back in full swing, Eddie’s little meltdown in the kitchen seemingly long forgotten. That is until he catches Max’s eye as she leans against one of the walls while talking to Eleven.

Eddie notes that he should also be adding Maxs’ name to the list of super awesome Christmas gifts.

Noah slides between anonymous bodies, scooching past a game of beer pong and into the living room where Robin and Steve yell loudly to the pop song blaring on the speakers.

Eddie stops himself just out of the living room, pausing because what was he actually even doing? It was muscle memory, following behind Noah as she said her goodbyes to their group of friends for the both of them. But that was then and this is now.

Eddie leans against the wallpaper, hoping to somehow blend in with the light blue design even when he’s dressed head to toe in black. The music is too loud and Noah is too far away so he can’t hear what she says to Steve and Robin but all three of them look over and make eye contact with Eddie. He can’t read the expressions on their faces but Noah’s lips curl up just a bit as she turns her back to him again. Whatever she says next seems to satisfy the two drunk adults as they both wrap their arms around to pull her in for an awkward three person, six limbed hug.

Eddie relaxes just a bit when Robin offers him a wave, seemingly forgiven for his episode earlier. He returns the wave, mouthing out a ‘happy birthday’ to which she responds by pointing at him and continuing singing her heart out to the song.

He loses track of Noah quickly, bodies crowding the living room as a new chart topper pounds against the speakers. Eddie lifts himself on his tiptoes just the slightest bit, looking out for her red dress in the crowd–hoping and praying she didn’t leave without saying goodbye.

He feels a familiar hand reach out for his bicep, giving him a reassuring squeeze when he finally makes eye contact with Noah who now stands beside him with her own leather jacket back on her shoulders.

“It was nice seeing you tonight, Eddie.” She removes her hand quickly, placing it into the safety of her pocket as she turns around.

“Wait!” He calls out too loudly and she jumps slightly at the intrusion of his voice, “Sorry–I–” His words fumble a bit in his mouth before he finally finds what he wants to say, “Let me walk you out?”

Noah smiles slightly as she takes in his furrowed eyebrows where they were nearly touching on his forehead, a tell tale sign that he was nervous.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I was just about to head out anyway.” The lie comes out easy and Eddie can tell she doesn’t believe it but he hopes she won’t call him out on it. She nods her head, biting at her cheek as she turns towards the door.

His fingers drum an erratic beat on his legs as they walk out of the house together. He holds the door open for her and she steps around him, mumbling out a thanks as they walk out into the chilly summer night.

The only light around them is the street lights and the lights coming from the inside of Harrington’s house but they both could walk this path blind. He’s surprised to see she is still driving the same car she had back in high school, it had barely worked then and it looks like it was running on the last of its legs even now.

“I can’t believe this thing is still running,” Eddie runs his hand over the hood as he follows her to the driver side door. The color of the car now is more of a rust color than the light blue it had originally been.

“She gets the job done.” Noah chuckles, pulling her keys out of her jacket pocket and inserting them into the door. The car door squeals in protest and Eddie thinks that a good gust of wind could probably blow it right off its hinges.

Noah turns around to him, Eddie finally realizing he’s standing a little too close and takes a step back.

“I’ll um, I’ll see you around, yeah?” His arms itch to wrap around her waist and pull her in for a hug but he restrains himself, taking another step back and shoving his hands into his pant pockets.

“Yeah, of course…” They stare at each other for a minute and she opens her mouth but quickly clamps it shut. He watches in silence as she slides into her car. He pinches his leg through his pants to try to stop himself from saying something stupid–like asking her when exactly he’ll see her again.

She reaches out for the car door letting out a small “Good night, Eddie,” before it closes between them. His heart does a little flip and his stomach feels like it's swarming with bats as he kicks at the road with his sneakers.

He backs away from her car, letting out a deep sigh as he watches her fiddle with the keys through the window.

He wants to stop her–wants to pull the engine out of her car with his bare hands to prevent her from leaving so he can spend just a few more moments with her. Because he had spent over a thousand days without her and he can honestly say he doesn’t love her any less than the day she left.

She was his entire heart and even though she had broken it in two, he knew that she would also be the only person to repair it again.

He reaches for his trusty pack of cigarettes in his back pocket as he hears the sound of her engine turning over, except it never fully does. He watches as she turns the key over and over only for the car to make a terrible clinking sound and shut off.

And Eddie thinks maybe, just maybe, Fate is on his side for once in his life.

A/N: Please let me know your thoughts so far, even if you hate it, please tell me on anon so I can get better!

[albertasunrise]

Stepping Up

Masterlist

Summary: Sequel to consequences. Javier does everything he can to prove to you that he wants to be a father to Sophia… it seems however that the universe doesn’t want to make it easy for him. 

Pairings: Javier Peña x Reader

Warnings: Like AO3, I choose not to list any warnings.

Notes: Sequal to 'Consequences.'... As requested by @little-mrs-morales Hope you like boo 😘

Javier had been trying.

As much as you loathed to say it after everything had happened, you'd be lying if you said he wasn't. He had taken on the role of, father, by the horns. Doing everything he could to make up for the time he'd lost with her.

He'd cried when she'd crawled at 7 months. Sitting on the floor despite how his back protested and clapped as she wobbled over to him on her hands and knees. She didn't wobble for long however and now she was impossible to keep up with. She sped around the house whilst you and he tried desperately to keep up with her.

At 10 months she was pulling herself up. Even standing for a few seconds before her legs would wobble and she'd fall onto her bum. It was moments like, playing with her or taking her to the zoo that had allowed you to lower your guard a little, allowing him in a little more each time.

He'd sorted an apartment. Taken on a second job as well as helping his father on the ranch, all to help support you and his little girl. You could see that he was tired but he didn't complain. He took it all in his stride and you appreciated the help. You'd struggled to make ends meet since Sophia had arrived. You'd swallowed your savings and so had to return to work, fortunately, something better paid than the bar and it meant you were finally able to utilise your accounting degree.

It had been a juggle sorting child care seeing as your parents had died a few years ago. Chucho would take her for a few hours whilst Javier worked on the ranch and then the younger Peña would have her till you collected her.

He loved the chance to spend some one on one time with her but it had meant that between working on the ranch and then as a security guard for a local warehouse at night, he was getting very little sleep.

Yet still, he didn't complain.

When asked if he was coping okay he would just tell you it was all part of being a good parent and you couldn't help but feel guilty. He was running himself ragged but as the months went on though, the two of you grew closer. You started to spend more time together, just the two of you and found that the feelings you had felt for him before started to stir in the background.

For Javier however, his feelings had never left him. He'd hated himself for leaving you. For how he'd left, rather than face the fact that despite how things had started between you… he had fallen for you despite his best efforts.

But things were different now.

He was retired from chasing drug lords. He was a father to your daughter. So he welcomed his feelings for you. Allowed them to flourish into the love he now knew he felt for you and so he made it his mission not only to prove to you that he was a good father but that he could be a good partner too.

…

"What's all this?" You asked as you walked into his apartment, eyes spotting a candle flickering on the table and a bottle of your favourite red sat beside it.

"I uh… Well, I cooked dinner for us." He confessed as he rubbed the back of his neck in an attempt to mask his embarrassment "I hope that's okay." He continued as he turned to dish up the food "Sophia's down and I thought perhaps we could spend a little time together just the two of us."

"Javi-"

"If you have plans that's fine." He interrupted "I can always freeze your portion but I-"

"JAVI." You shouted, instantly regretting it and listening out a moment for Sophia, breathing a sigh of relief when she remained silent "You're rambling." You chuckled and he sighed as he turned to face you again.

"Sorry."

"What I was going to say was that I would love to have dinner with you." You stated, smiling sweetly at him as his whole body relaxed "What we havin'?" You asked as you made your way over to him.

"My mum's famous quesadillas." He stated as he placed your plate down along with his own.

"These look fantastic Javier." You gushed and he grinned "Didn't know you could cook."

"Ahh." He said as he waved his finger at you "There are a lot of things you don't know about me." He finished with a wink and you flushed at his statement.

"Hopefully I'll learn more, one day." You purred, locking eyes with him and shivering at his intense gaze.

"I'm sure you will Hermosa." He replied after a short stint of silence, his expression softening before he turned his attention to the food "Dig in before it gets cold."

The food was as delicious as it looked. The spices and flavours that assaulted your senses were enough to leave you wanting more, long after they were finished. Then after the two of you had cleared up and done the dishes, you retired to his lounge where you sat sipping at your wine as he talked about what he and Sophia had done that day.

You couldn't help but notice how tired he looked. You knew he was working himself to the bone to help provide for Sophia but it was visibly taking its toll on him now. You daren't say anything in case he got snappy but you hated how clear it was that he wasn't taking care of himself.

Putting you and your daughter above all else.

"So pops was talking about taking her to this new Alpaca farm that's opened a few miles down the road." He stated, pulling you from your thoughts "He thought it might be a nice day out for us all." He continued, smiling sheepishly at you "As a family."

"Sounds wonderful Javi." You replied with a smile and he returned it with his own "I should probably get going." You stated when you saw the time "No point in moving her so I'll just collect her in the morning. You have enough formula?"

"Why don't you stay?" He asked and you stopped in your tracks "You can have a little more wine. We can talk." He said, shrugging his shoulders "I'll sleep on the couch."

"Javi no, your back can't take sleeping on the couch." You protested but he shrugged again.

"It's fine." He replied simply "Was just an idea."

"It's not like we haven't shared a bed before." You chuckled and his eyes grew wide at your insinuation "No funny business though?" You warned and he threw his hands up in mock surrender.

"On my honour." He stated and you smiled.

"Then I'll have some more wine please." You said with a wink and he practically leapt to his feet to get it for you.

The conversation that flowed after that was easy. You talked about life. Plans for the future and how nervous you were about Sophia turning 1. Chucho had already decided that he was going to throw her a big party, having already roped in a friend of his to supply the petting zoo.

"I legitimately think he's invited half the town." Chuckled Javier as he took another swig of his beer.

"It's sweet." You gushed and the agent nodded.

"Yeah." He stated before settling further back into the couch cushions at his back "He loves being an Abuelo… Absolute natural." He chuckled and you giggled too as you nodded in agreement.

"So are you though." You stated and he looked at you with confusion spreading across his face.

"I am what?"

"A natural." You stated simply "You've taken to being a father way better than I expected you to."

"What's that supposed to mean?" He snapped and you sighed as you thought of your answer carefully.

"All I meant was that when I first met you, you told me about how commitment and the family life were not for you… Not something you wanted." You stated and his shoulders dropped slightly "Then you came back from Colombia, for the second time, only to learn you were now a father and you just stepped up… I'm really proud of you Javi." You enthused as you smiled at him "And I'm glad that you wanted to be a father to Sophia… She loves you so much."

"I love her too." He replied, his body relaxing again "I never knew I could love something so much until I first held her in my arms but now I know there isn't anything I wouldn't do for her."

"You know you need to take care of yourself though, Javi." You warned and he scoffed "I'm earning more now so you don't have to work nights anymore."

"I don't earn enough from the ranch to provide for you both." He argued and you sighed "I want to contribute to her care."

"And you do!" You countered "In more ways than one. It's not all about money Javi."

"I can handle it." He snapped and you scoffed.

"You sure?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that you look tired Javier." You stated "You clearly aren't getting enough rest. You need to take care of yourself."

"I am Hermosa I promise." He grumbled and you chuckled at his response.

"You Peña men are so stubborn." You chortled.

"All part of our charm." He replied with a wink and you rolled your eyes at him before finishing the last of your wine.

Happy to enjoy the peace that had finally washed over you both.

~

Sophia's birthday came and went and suddenly you were now a parent to a one-year-old.

You found it hard to believe it had really been that long since you'd gone through all the pain and exhaustion to bring her into the world but sure enough here you were.

Javier had since taken on a role as a consultant for the DEA. A role that meant he was able to take slightly better care of himself and you were relieved that he was no longer working almost all hours of the day.

However, this new role had meant that he wasn't around as much as before. He was no longer able to take Sophia during the day which meant you had to send her to daycare, something that had been hard to accept at first but you were relieved to see her flourish.

As time went on and his workload grew, he started to let you down more and more. Never on purpose but it seemed that the more he was asked to consult, the less he was able to do to help out. Suddenly it was all money and no presence. Something you found hard to accept.

That had also meant that the relationship that had started to blossom between the two of you was now wilting. The effort he made before to try and woo you so to speak had dwindled to nothing and you found yourself remembering why exactly it was that you had decided that you couldn't be with him in the first place.

His work always came first.

Arguments became the norm. Him always arguing that he was just trying to provide you both with a better life.

"What's the point of a better life Javier if you're never around to share it." You'd snapped before storming out with your daughter in hand and he'd said nothing to argue it.

He knew you were right but he didn't know what else to do. This was all he knew and the money was more than good. He knew he needed to balance things better so he started to have Sophia in the afternoons again for a few hours. Picking her up from daycare and doing his best to balance his work and his time with her.

He just wanted to do better by you both but it seemed he just couldn't get it right. he could never get it right with you.

The routine of him picking up Sophia became the norm as the weeks slithered into months yet the time that you once spent in each other's company had remained absent. So it hadn't been all that surprising when you started to see someone. Well unsurprising to you but it had felt like a punch in the stomach to Javier.

You kept your relationship separate from your family life in the beginning. Something Javier appreciated but it was killing him knowing that the newfound smile on your face was not because of him.

It wasn't for him either.

He'd been too focused on being a good father and supplying for his family that he forgot how to be a good partner to you. A good father to his daughter.

…

Three months passed and finally, you introduced the man you were seeing to your daughter. It was something you'd discussed at length with the younger Peña but it came to it. H knew he had no right to tell you no. The three of you then started to do more and more together and the younger Peña became green with envy. Something he was not proud of but

"How are things going with Alastair?" He asked as he packed Sophia's things.

"They're fine." You replied plainly and he sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Is this how things are to be from now on?" He asked and your brows drew together in confusion "I ask you how things are and you're cold and distant with me?"

"I'm not distant." You argued and he scoffed.

"You barely look at me anymore." He started, his voice wobbling a little as he spoke "I know I wasn't balancing things well when I started consulting but I've got a handle on it now." He assured you "I don't want us to be like this."

"Like what?" You grumbled.

"Two people that share a daughter and nothing else." He sighed "I get I missed my chance with you and all that but we can still be friends." He stated, "We should at least try to be for Sophia."

"What do you mean you missed your chance with me?"

"I… Well, I thought things were going good between us but-"

"They were Javier." You interrupted, your tone sharp "But then you stopped trying." You growled, "You just stopped and it made me realise why we can never work."

"Why?" He choked and you let out a long sigh before you answered.

"Because work will always come first."

"I have been doing my best to do right by you both." He snapped, instantly regretting his tone "I just want to be able to give you everything."

"I didn't need everything Javi." You replied, your tone softening "I just needed you."

"You have me." He argued and you scoffed.

"If I did, I wouldn't be with him." You replied before fetching Sophia and readying her to leave.

Javier didn't have an answer for you. You were right and he knew that but he couldn't help but feel hurt by how despite the fact he'd tried to improve things you'd decided that your relationship with him was no longer worth saving.

"Alastair is present." You started, pulling the agent from his thoughts "He's great with Sophia and he wasn't so provide me with stability. I need stability, Javier."

"I want to give that to you." He argued and you scoffed "Why do you think I've been working so hard? I want to give you guys everything you need."

"We need you to actually be around Javi." You snapped "Pushing money at us doesn't make you a good father." You finished and he flinched.

Stood there speechless as you pushed Sophia out of his apartment out into the evening air.

Was he really a bad father?

Your statement cut him to the bone. He hated that you thought he was a bad dad. Hated that you thought so little of him.

So when the case he'd consulted on came to an end, he chose not to take any more work on for a while. He focused on helping his father for a while and spending what time he could get with his daughter which became less and less the more serious you and Alastair became.

Day trips became weeks away or long weekends, His short time with her when he picked her up from daycare became his most cherished moments. Then the days he was without her he did whatever he could to distract himself from the fact that his life felt like it was falling apart.

…

"We'll be back Sunday night so I will still need you to pick her up on Monday." You stated as you packed the last of her things into her bag.

"Okay." He replied simply as he watched you pack.

"What are you going to do with your weekend off?" You asked, trying to somewhat start a conversation with the man.

"There's some work that needs doing on the ranch." He replied, "The barn roof needs patching and that fence on the boundary by the river needs repairing."

"Sounds like hard work." You said as you pulled Sophia into your arms "You got any help?"

"Nah." He said, shaking his head "I'll be fine."

"Javi-"

"Have a nice weekend away." He interrupted, stopping you in your tracks and you nodded at him before carrying Sophia up to him so he could say goodbye.

"Goodbye, bebita." He said as he placed a soft kiss on her brow "Te amo."

Your heart ached at the expression on his face as he straightened to his full height again, giving you a small nod before walking away. Unable to see you take her away.

You did feel guilty that you were building this family with someone else but you were happy. You were allowed to be happy. Yet deep down inside, you knew you still loved Javier. How things were now was not how you'd expected things to go between you. You had hoped that the two of you would have ended up together and you still did to an extent. Alastair offered you stability but if you were truly honest with yourself that wasn't enough.

You simply weren't in love with him.

So you went for your weekend away with him. You tried to enjoy your trip but the more you dwelled on things the more you realised that not only were you being unfair to Alastair… You were being unfair to yourself.

You deserved to be in love and you weren't.

So you broke things off.

…

You were furious.

You'd been in the middle of a meeting when the office assistant had popped her head in. Informing you that daycare had called and Javier hadn't collected Sophia.

You'd had to excuse yourself from the meeting and had stormed to your desk. Angrily dialling Javier's number and audibly growling when he hadn't answered. After your third attempt, you'd apologised to your boss and informed him you had to go and when you'd arrived at daycare, you'd been even more apologetic.

Pulling up in the parking lot of his building, you'd angrily stomped up the stairs to Javier's apartment. Banging angrily on the door as you called out for him. You knew he was there. His truck was in the parking lot and you. could hear his TV through the open window, so when he didn't come to the door you jammed your spare key in the lock and practically kicked open the door.

"JAVIER." You yelled, eyes scanning the open plan kitchen lounge "Javier I know you're here."

Still nothing.

"For fucks sakes Javi, if you're-" You stopped in your tracks when you noticed something out the corner of your eye.

Stepping further into the apartment… You finally found him.

"JAVI." You yelled as you sprinted to him, dropping to your knees.

You placed Sophia on the floor beside you before desperately trying to rouse the man. You sobbed when you lowered your ear to his mouth, only to find he wasn't breathing and then suddenly you were desperately searching for a pulse.

"Javi." You sobbed, gasping when you found a pulse.

Weak, but there.

Then your first aid training kicked in. Tilting his head back you blew a few rescue breaths into his mouth before starting compressions, silently pleading for him to breathe. You repeated the process again, wiping your tears on your shoulder as you continued compressions.

"Come on Javi." You begged, "Breath for me."

"Papi-" Sophia cried as she started to pat his face and your heart broke.

She shouldn't have to see this.

You blew two more breaths into his dormant lungs and were rewarded with a gasp. You quickly put him into the recovery position and then sprinted to his phone. He was breathing now but that could change.

He needed help and quick.

…

The hours that followed were a blur. After going with Javier in the ambulance you were left to wait for news on his condition. Suddenly all that anger you felt towards the man disappeared and was replaced with intense guilt. It hadn't been like Javier not to collect her. You should have known something had happened but instead, you'd assumed he was letting you down again.

How wrong you were.

You'd called Chucho the moment you'd arrived at the hospital and had been sent to the waiting room. You'd sobbed the moment the man came into view and pulled you into his arms. The two of you had then sat down together and waited in silence. Praying that when the doctor finally found them… The news wasn't bad.

"Family for Javier Peña." A voice called out and you both raised your hand before standing.

"How is he?" You asked. Your voice shaking as much as your hands.

"He suffered a cardiac event." The man stated and you gasped "He's stable now but it's clear that he's not been taking particularly good care of himself." He stated and you sighed "Has he been over-exerting himself at all or?…"

"He's been doing some pretty big jobs for me on the ranch but… Well, he told me he could handle it." Chucho choked and you grabbed his hand to comfort him.

"Well, it's clear he's exhausted." The doctor stated and you both nodded "He's going to need to rest awhile. His diet is not good either as he's pretty underweight.

I recommend he stay with someone for a while. At least till his strength returns."

"I can stay with him." You said without question "Whatever he needs."

"Cardiac events affect everyone differently." The doctor started, crossing his arms over his chest before continuing "He may feel sad. It's common for emotions to be rattled after an event like this."

"Okay."

"He'll be weak." He continued "Will find tasks will tire him out quickly but that's all normal."

"But he's going to be okay?" Chucho asked and the doctor nodded.

"I want to keep him in for a few days for observation… But I'm confident with rest and time that he'll make a full recovery."

"When can we see him?" You asked, glancing down at the sleeping Sophia in your arms.

"I'll take you to him."

You both followed the doctor as he led you through the clinical halls to a room. There inside lay Javier. Machines beeped as they monitored his vitals as he slept. You and the older Peña made your way to his side, you on one side of the bed and Chucho on the other. Then you waited. Waited for him to wake up, to let you know he was still with you despite the machines telling you so.

When Sophia grew restless and Chucho's back started to protest, you told him to go home. That you would stay with Javi and let him know if anything changed. The older man left without argument and you were then left alone to wait… And wait you did.

It was in the early hours the next morning that he finally stirred and you were at his side in the blink of an eye, clutching to his hand as you waited for the fog to clear.

"What happened?" He asked when he realised where he was, eyes then drifting to you.

"You suffered a cardiac event Javi." You said, squeezing his hand gently "You've been overdoing it."

"I haven't." He protested and you giggled at his reply.

"Your doctor says differently."

"Hmm." He hummed, unable to argue with you but not happy either.

"The doctor wants to keep you in a few more days for observation but then you're coming home with me so I can keep an eye on you."

"I don't need babysitting." He protested and you scoffed.

"You're going to be weak for a little while Javi." You stated "You're going to need help… Just let me help you."

"Why?"

His question caught you by surprise but it also made you realise something too.

"When I found you lying there I thought… This is it! I've lost you forever and it killed me." You choked back a sob, tears falling freely now "We've made such a mess of things, Javi. And when I found you there not breathing I thought that I'd lost my chance to go after what it was I truly wanted."

"Which is?"

"You." You replied simply.

"But Alistair?"

"We broke up over the weekend." You replied, shrugging your shoulders "Yeah he was great and he was safe but I wasn't in love with him and that wasn't fair on him."

"You broke up?" He said, his voice tiny all of a sudden.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because I love you, Javier." You declared, voice steady "I love you and I want to try and make this work because I'm tired of fighting this… Tired of fighting you."

"You love me?" His tears glittered on his cheeks as he let out a stuttered breath.

"Yes." You replied as you stroked the droplets away with your thumbs "And if you'll have me, I would like us to try and start afresh."

Javier was silent a few moments before grabbing the back of your head and pulling you into a kiss that stole the air from your lungs. You couldn't help but let out a small squeak and he smiled against your lips before pulling away, resting his brow on yours.

"I want that too." He replied breathlessly, grinning at you like a loon.

"No more mistakes?" You asked and he shook his head.

"No more mistakes, Hermosa." He assured you "I'm not losing you again."

He paused a moment as he drank you in before opening his eyes and locking your gaze once more.

"You and Sophia are all I want." he said, pausing to place a chaste kiss on your lips "We're a family cariño… You're it."

"You're it for me too." You replied and he smiled again "This is a second chance and I'm not going to let it slip."

He answered you with a kiss that made your toes curl and your heart flutter. You were under no illusions that things weren't going to be tough but you knew that together… You could tackle anything.

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[winterhawkbigbang]

Winterhawk Big Bang 2022 Masterlist!

We've come to the end of posting, and are so happy to confirm that all expected fics were completed on time this year! There were 11 fics created for this year's bang, with an amazing assortment of related artworks created to go with them! This list has gathered them together, in alphabetical order by author's name. They are also all collected on AO3 here.

Through the fire by asamandra

Art by mightymightygnomepriest / veryrach

“O-kay,” Bucky said, and extended the o for a few moments. He looked at Peter. “What was that?” “You have no idea who that was, right?” He asked. Bucky shrugged and shook his head. “No. Should I?” “Have you ever watched the Olympic games? That’s Clint Barton!” Peter said. He tried not to roll his eyes when Bucky just stared at him, but failed miserably. “Do I have to google him?” Bucky asked now exasperated.

Running Out of Mind by aww_writing_no

Art by noxnthea

Clint Barton was finally living a blissfully uneventful life as a biosystems engineer on the space station BOBs2 when an unexpected encounter finds him on the run with a stranger who strangely doesn’t feel like a stranger. Bucky Barnes spent the last seventy years in cryosleep after crashing into an asteroid and woke up to find himself being chased by the same group he was on the run from seventy years ago. The problem is he can’t remember what they want with him or why he has all these memories that don’t make sense.

Boris the Soviet Love Hammer by bittercape

Art by amoredition

One of the early things Bucky discovers about himself (apart from a tendency to cope with trauma through dark humor) is that apparently, he has a competence kink a mile wide, which is not helpful considering the fact that he now lives in the same building as Clint Barton, who is not only hotter than the sun but far more competent than expected. Fortunately, Tony is there to “help” as Bucky tries to survive watching Barton on missions, fighting robots, doing DIY - in other words, just living his highly competent life. Featuring: Clint in purple booty shorts and body glitter PowerPoint presentations Maiming of robots Unhealthy coping mechanisms Snarky commentary

Two Snipers at the Theater by buckybarnesdeservestobehappy

Art by PanoramicSubDrop

When Bucky Barnes finds Clint Barton in a dumpster in Brooklyn, he’s not sure why anyone in the Avengers accepts Hawkeye as part of the team. Still, Bucky’s lonely, so when Clint offers Bucky his extra ticket to see Rogers: The Musical, the two head to the theater. Horrified by the portrayal of their friends and colleagues, the two leave the theater, get drunk, and stumble back to Bucky’s apartment together. Bucky realizes there’s a lot more to Clint than dumpster diving and a smart mouth and that being grumpy isn’t as easy to do when he’s genuinely comfortable. In fact, he might even be happy.

TSEGI by deluxemycroft

Art by noxnthea & Pietray/Quicksillver

When Thanos Snaps, half the universe does not decay into dust. Instead, they turn and begin to attack the other half. Caught in the aftermath, Clint Barton makes his way to Wakanda to try and help, only to end up with more than he bargained for.

Off Leash by FestiveFerret

Art by shadowdustcosplay & noxnthea

Clint has returned from serving overseas to an empty apartment with no job, no friends, and no life. A chance encounter in a dumpster at 3am solves the no friends problem in the form of a one-eyed golden retriever called Lucky, who then promptly solves the no job problem by inadvertently introducing Clint to the idea of walking dogs for a living. Except there's this unfairly hot, unfairly competent, surly, sexy, maddening competition in the form of one Bucky Barnes, and Clint isn't sure if he wants to throw a tennis ball at his head, steal all his clients, or start humping his leg. Possibly all three.

The Moon sings a lullaby by hopelessly-me

Art by amoredition

Bucky and Clint were living their best lives- they had successful careers, just adopted their daughter, and had amazing friends. They had the world in their hands and nothing could bring them down. Until Clint came home with a letter from NASA, offering him a stint on the ISS; it was both his dream come true, but it couldn't have come at a worst time- their daughter wasn't even six months old yet. Nonetheless, Bucky urged him to go- when else would he get a chance like that? Now Bucky had to navigate how to be a parent on his own while his husband was hundreds of miles away from Earth.

Hold Your Nerve by Inktastic1711

Art by bittercape

Clint has been doing just fine since the Blip. He sees Kate, he shoots arrows, he eats pizza. Until Bucky starts hanging around. It's not the first time a former assassin has turned to Clint for friendship, so he lets Bucky into his life. Not everything goes according to plan. AKA, the One Where Clint Gets Accidentally Kidnapped

The One Where Clint is Bucky's Weakness by JinxQuickfoot

Art by Rufferto

There’s only one choice he’s being given, and he’s not making it, he’s not, even though he knows the words she’s going to say next, knows the only threat she can make that will spur him into action. “Choose one, or we hurt both.” -------------------------------------- When Bucky, Clint, and Steve are captured by HYDRA agents, their leader enacts her brutal method for bringing back the Winter Soldier.

Deep in the shadows (into the light) by Lacerta

Art by PanoramicSubDrop

Bucky Barnes has a bloody past that should never see the light of day. He has wrongs to avenge and he won't stop until the last of HYDRA is wiped out, for both his and Clint's sake, and for the safety of other creatures as well. Bucky Barnes has a new best friend, Steve. Bucky has a wolfdog carrying a human name. He doesn't talk much about his private life and whatever it is that keeps him canceling plans at the last minute. Now, if only the two lives of Bucky Barnes stayed separate, wouldn't that be nice?

don't care what you did (as long as you love me) by mightymightygnomepriest

Art by bittercape & VexedBeverage

When Bucky Barnes returns to New York after being deprogrammed in Wakanda, The Avengers are shocked to discover that he and Clint have already met. Clint’s not delighted to have this previously-unknown part of his history dragged up after all these years, but he also doesn’t want to keep secrets from his teammates, so he agrees to tell them the story of how he met the Winter Soldier. After a job goes south, 21-year-old Clint finds himself stranded. In order to get out of town, he takes a job as a tribute act while trying to lay low. Unfortunately, this brings with it a whole new set of problems, including learning dance routines, uncovering whatever super-sketchy business his new bosses are into, working out how much body glitter is too much body glitter, and figuring out why he keeps getting butterflies in his stomach whenever the super-hot bodyguard-slash-dance instructor looks at him. Behold as The Amazing Hawkeye ignores good advice and makes terrible choices! Gasp as our favorite archer juggles spying with rehearsals! Marvel in wonder as he explores his burgeoning sexuality!

[nunchiimagines]

Pied Piper: 1

— Summary: You’re a recent grad who was given the dream opportunity to intern abroad in South Korea. When you moved into a small, somewhat homely, apartment complex in Gangnam, you were pleasantly surprised to have become neighbors with 7 very intriguing, very charming, very handsome young men. You weren’t expecting them to have become so attached to you so quickly and that’s probably because you’re actually their reincarnated soulmate. To make matters even more convoluted, they’re also part of the mafia, they’re demons, and they’re heir to the throne of the underworld. Who’d thought that your once normal life would change so drastically over the course of such a short time?

— Pairing: demon lord! mafia boss! bts x poc! curvy! intern! reader

— Genre: super fluff / poly!au / mafia!au / demon!au / soft yandere!au / soulmate! au

— Status: On Going

— Warnings: erotic thoughts, different pov changes, mentioning of the pandemic

— Word Count: 3.0k

~MASTERPOST~

CHAPTERS: Prev - Next

**AUTHORS NOTE**

It’s here! Like most new stories I start, I got super excited and splurged. Anywho, like I said, this story is going to be written (slightly) differently. There will be many POV changes more than likely the entire series. Also, I want to write this series more like a culmination of drabbles so they’re going to be roughly this length. The next three chapters, the reader is going to be like a secondary character because we see the POV of all the guys first impressions of her. This will then transition to a different scenario (more than likely) as the story progresses. We’ll see as we go though! :D 

P.S. You may have noticed that the synopsis as altered a bit btw!

Anyway, I tried to read over this many times to ensure it was properly edited but I will probably come back a little later to review it again! Thanks so much and stay tuned for the next chapter...soon! ^~^

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It seemed like such a far off dream. A desire that had slowly diminished into nothing more than a fantasy. When the pandemic hit, all your plans had practically ceased to exist. Your trips, your job opportunities, your idea of finally starting your career. Gone in the blink of an eye. You couldn’t even graduate college like a normal person, seeing your name on a live social media page claiming that you had successfully obtained your degree.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t cry, curse, and blame the world for screwing you over so cruelly. But you were far from the only one and you admittedly were better off than many other people. You were disgusted in yourself, feeling selfish for complaining about your circumstances. But that vile feeling sat in the pit of your stomach and you couldn’t help feeling screwed over, even if your situation wasn't as bad as many others.

You spent that next year working deeply on yourself in response, digging in and addressing rooted trauma, toxic beliefs, and unhelpful coping mechanisms that you had built and lived in since your days as a middle schooler. You became a bit more spiritual, believing that the universe had a plan for everyone, that you were meant for more than what was being present, and to understand gratitude. You realized that, in that moment, you may not be where you wanted to be, but, there will come a time that you will be and it’s not up to you to decide when that’ll happen.

At first, this mindset was hard to adapt to, giving up control being far more difficult than anyone ever explained, but eventually, it became second nature. Your mental health improved, your outlook on life shifted more positively, and eventually your long sought after opportunity arrived. It was sudden, unexpected, and almost unreal. Through your own self work you kept applying yourself to your craft, reaching out to people, and submitting applications for internships that would accommodate long distance working. More than not, you received no response in return, which was admittedly discouraging, but you managed to feel less and less bad about yourself the more you pushed on.

Eventually, you woke up one morning to an email in response to an abroad internship opportunity in South Korea that you had applied for. At first, you thought it was a rejection letter but soon realized it was quite the opposite. You couldn’t believe it. You pinched yourself, slapped your cheeks, and re-read the email about a thousand times to ensure the words were truly stating what was written. Your heart raced, your face felt warm, and a massive burden lifted off of you in that instant.

You celebrated with your family and family friends and spent the next couple of months gathering all of the needed documents, paperwork, records, and materials for your upcoming trip. To make matters even better, the pandemic had become less and less prevalent, life rapidly returning back to normal for arguably the world, even if people never really did change their routines like they were supposed to during it all.

Now that you’re finally here in Gangnam, standing before you was the cheap, yet oddly cute, homely apartment complex you had rented your room from. It was more of a plaza and had small mom and pop shops inside. You couldn’t explain why, but this little building already felt like home. Like, something here was pulling you to feel comforted, to feel like you belonged. Not wanting to waste any more time, you began lugging some of your heavier baggage up the outdoor staircase to get inside. Once you had finished bringing everything up, you went to the front desk to check in.

The elderly woman was far sweeter and kinder than you had expected. She kept complimenting you on how beautiful you looked and how good your Korean was. Every second spent with her, she doted on you. You were admittedly a bit flustered and taken aback, not used to such forward behavior. She talked and talked about her grandsons and how they were roughly the same age as you, all seven of them. You knew where this was going and the offer to marry them off to you was brought up on numerous occasions. Though you brushed off her offer you couldn’t help but to wonder if they’d truly be interested in ever dating a foreigner such as yourself.

Your thoughts were eventually broken when you heard the elderly woman call out to someone close by. When your curiosity got the better of you, you looked up to make eye contact with a man who had no right to be as attractive as the one before you.

“Taehyungie~! Come here for a minute!” She said, calling out affectionately.

Taehyung? Why did that name sound so familiar? Taehyung….Taehyung...Oh! Wait a minute, Taehyung. Taehyung, as in one of her grandsons. This man was….ONE of her grandsons? If he looked like that, what on earth did the others look like? You couldn’t help the rising blush and averted your gaze, too scared to continue looking at him. He quickly noticed and smirked, a sense of pride bubbling within.

KIM TAEHYUNG

You were far cuter than he had expected and he couldn’t help but linger his eyes on you a tad bit longer than he maybe should have. You were shorter than he was, curvy, and your skin held a pretty sunkissed tan to it. The way your hair crowned your head was absolutely gorgeous and those cute doe-like eyes couldn’t even maintain eye contact from how obviously shy you were being. Oh how he loved every fiber of you already. And by the smell of it, you were totally a virgin, the most intoxicating kryptonite for a demon such as himself.

But something was different. YOU were different. You weren’t just some overly pretty human virgin, you were something far more alluring. Something that sparked an indescribable ache in his chest. It clawed at his insides, thrashing desperately to get to you of all people. This sudden and unexpected feeling was foreign to Taehyung and he had to force control back just to maintain the rise in his depleting sanity.

The more he lingered in your scent the more intoxicating you became. The more he wanted to just push you up against the wall to hear your breathy moans. The way your skin slaps against his as he pulls his zipper down and starts inserting his-

“Taehyungie?” the older woman calls out again, eyebrow raised in slight confusion.

His vivid thoughts ceased in the blink of an eye, his attention falling back on the older woman who originally called him over; his grandmother.

What the actual fuck just happened? He almost seemed drunk-dazed for a moment, unsure of what just transpired before him. Had he always been this lewd towards people he found attractive? No. He was the one in constant control, not them. So then how in the hell did he yield so easily to your presence alone? He didn’t have time to figure it out now, fearing he'd slip up and do something else out of character.

“Apologies, grandmother. May I help with something?” he asked.

The elderly woman smiled up at him with knowing eyes before turning back to you.

“This is (Y/N), our lovely new resident! She moved from overseas and will be staying with us during the duration of her internship!”

So your name is (Y/N)? Why did something as simple as your name entice him everso? Oh was he gonna have fun figuring you out. He isn’t the mafia's spy for nothing. He will dissect everything about you, even if it’s the last thing he does.

“(Y/N), this is Taehyung. He’s my second youngest grandson.”

She lowered her voice slightly before whispering something only the two of you could hear. In response, Taehyung observed your flushed reaction, now curious on what was said. He cocked a brow while the elderly woman just laughed.

“It’s nice to meet you Taehyung-ssi. Please take good care of me.” you said, bowing to him.

Taehyung stiffened at your voice. For fucks sake was there anything not attractive about you? And the way you said his name...he wanted to hear more of it. More of that sweet and lovely voice calling out his name. Over and over and over, begging him to keep going to keep thrusting-

“My Lord, control yourself.” the elderly woman chastised in a hushed manner, smacking his arm.

To you it looked like playful banter and Taehyung was grateful for that. His grandmother wasn’t wrong. He was losing himself fast around you and he really needed to reel himself back under control. Tahyung returned the smile with his own boxy one before bowing as well.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you.”

He watched as you slightly stiffened at the obvious implications behind his words. Toying with you was hella fun and something he lowkey needed to fuel his wounded pride for succumbing to you so quickly and easily. His grandmother just rolled her eyes, catching on as well before gesturing for the conversation to move on.

She had instructed Taehyung to aid you in placing your belongings in your room. Lucky for him, you were rooming right next to each other. You tried to intervene, worried you were becoming a bother by enlisting his help, but both of them dismissed your concerns and proceeded on anyway.

After you had officially settled in, you offered both the elderly woman and Taehyung a drink from a nearby cafe you passed when you arrived. The grandmother (intentionally) declined, claiming she had other matters to attend to. Taehyung happily took you up on the offer though, stating that his brother was waiting for him there anyway.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry Taehyung-ssi! I didn’t realize you had plans and I feel terrible.” you worried out loud.

Taehyung just chuckled, waving his hand dismissively.

“It’s fine, he just arrived anyway. Are you ready to go?”

“Yes, let me just grab my wallet.” you said, a bright smile appearing again.

“Oh, one more thing.” he said, calling out to you.

You stopped midway, turning to look at him.

“Just call me Taehyung, no need to be so formal.”

You were a bit surprised and smiled in return.

“Okay, then the feeling is mutual, just (Y/N) for me then.” you said.

Taehyung just smirked before pulling out his phone. 5 missed calls and 12 text messages. Ahh~ Jimin was totally pissed. It’s been 45 minutes since he’s been at the cafe waiting but you didn’t need to know that. Luckily, he knew your appearance would squash the irritated elder and quickly texted that he was bringing a lovely surprise for him.

PARK JIMIN

Pissed couldn’t even describe what he was feeling right now. Having to sit here for almost an hour was not exactly how Jimin anticipated spending his lunch break. Especially given the fact that they needed to go over the newly acquired information Jungkook had sent him.

Jimin is very well aware that his brother could be a bit lax sometimes, but nothing like this. Not when it’s this important. As Jimin continued ruminating in his frustrations over his supposed twin, his phone chimed. He quickly looked at the glowing device before furrowing his brow.

“Sorry for making you wait. Please don’t be mad. If it makes you feel any better, I have a lovely surprise for you~”

Why did this make him feel worse? Why did he feel like he was going to strangle his brother as soon as he walked through the door. He admits he is a bit intrigued on what his message is really alluding to but no matter what, he refused to let Taehyung off the hook. Not this time dammit! About 10 minutes later and finally he sees the all too familiar tuft of brown hair. What he wasn’t expecting, however, was you.

What? Did he expect that bringing an exceedingly cute foreigner was going to make up for everything? As if. Not to mention, did he completely forget the point of their meetup? Jimin held a stern and annoyed expression solely focused on Taehyung. He refused to pay anymore attention to you, even if that was becoming increasingly harder to do the closer you approached him.

“Glad of you to finally show up.” Jimin said.

“Do you realize that I’ve been here for over 45 minutes waiting for you?”

Your eyes widened and you shot a look at Taehyung in disbelief. Taehyung just sheepishly smiled in return, weakly apologizing. Jimin was a bit surprised by your reaction, assuming you didn’t understand Korean. However, it also seemed like Taehyung must've sprinkled some of his whitelies your way which, for some reason, irritated him.

“I’m so sorry. This was entirely my fault.” you said speaking up.

Both men stared at you, your sudden outburst throwing them off guard.

“Uh-uhm my name is (Y/N) and I had just r-recently moved in. Taehyung helped me and it took longer t-than expected. I had no idea he had a prior engagement and I truly apologize for keeping you waiting.” you said trying to explain.

Everyone took note of your stuttering nerves, you quickly realized that all these grandsons must be ungodly attractive and your heart couldn’t handle that. Jimin twitched. Fuck. How was he supposed to be mad at that, at you? Why did he have to bring someone so freaking adorable here. Jimin took a quick glance at Taehyung before catching the ever growing smirk. That bastard totally did this on purpose. He knew damn well he could never get mad at someone like you. Someone as mesmerizing, sweet, selfless, and kind as you. And look at those soft plush lips. So kissable and...oh god what was happening? Jimin had to mentally slap himself, realizing he never responded back to you.

“I-It’s okay. It’s not your fault at all.”

Jimin stood up and bowed slightly.

“My name is Jimin, it’s a pleasure to meet you (Y/N).”

The three of you spent that afternoon getting to know each other. This was far from what you had expected but you were nothing less than grateful. With each passing minute, Jimin had become exceedingly interested in you. Like with Taehyung, it was indescribable, unfamiliar, and so sudden. All he wanted to do was scoop you off your feet and keep you hidden away from everyone, preserving that all too innocent and naive personality. Maybe you’d reward him in return, letting him explore the curves and crevices of your body. Allowing him to dip his hips into yours as you mewled for him and him alone. Oh how he’d kill to feel your flushed flesh against his-

“Jimin.” Taehyung called out.

Jimin snapped out of it.

“What the hell just happened?” Jimin asked out loud without thinking.

Luckily, you had excused yourself prior to Jimin’s lewd thoughts concerning you but it was that exact same reason he started fantasizing so vividly in the first place. Taehyung instantly caught on, for more reasons than one, and attempted to snap his brother out of the all too familiar feeling.

“I wish I could tell you.” Taehyung responded.

“You say that like you’ve experienced it.” Jimin retorted.

“Yep. Upon my first seeing her. Feels like...a trance. I’ve been trying to figure it out ever since, watching her closely and everything.”

“Do you think she’s an enemy? Someone sent in from one of the opposing families?” Jimin asked seriously.

“I...I don’t know.”

Jimin furrowed his brow. The way Taehyung said that was unsettling.

“Should we ask Yoongi?” Jimin questioned.

“I already did. I’m waiting for a response. But can I be honest?”

Jimin perked at that, curious on where this was going.

“I don’t think she’s an enemy or a spy of any kind. I can just feel it.”

Jimin stayed quiet. He, oddly, knew where Taehyung was coming from but wanted to know why they had felt this way.

“Instinct?”

“Yeah, like she was meant to be here.”

Taehyung locked eyes with Jimin, a rare look of seriousness coursing through his rapidly glowing red eyes.

“Like she’s our-”

“Sorry for the wait!” you announced.

The two suddenly jumped, unaware of your presence at first. You held an apologetic look, not meaning to scare them like that. They brushed off your concerns and the three of you finished up your stay at the cafe. It had gotten dark and you were very tired from the flight and moving in. Luckily, you didn’t have to walk back by yourself, finding out that both Jimin and Taehyung (as well as the rest of their brothers) occupied the remainder of the floor you were stationed on. You weren’t sure if you should be excited or nervous by that info but you tried not to show it.

When you reached your door, you bid the two a goodnight. Luckily, before your departure, you managed to snag their numbers, offering you to hit them up if you ever needed anything. You were very grateful for their kind demeanor and officially wandered off to bed. Jimin and Taehyung lingered a bit longer, wary of your actions. When nothing came up and you actually went to bed, the two officially left.

Jimin entered Taehyung’s room, an alert coming through Taehyung’s phone in the process. When he pulled it out and looked at it, he realized it was from Yoongi.

“He got back to me.” he announced.

Jimin wasted no time making a beeline towards Taehyung and swiftly looked over his shoulder, the two reading the message thoroughly. They stood there for a minute digesting everything they read before a soft silence blanketed them both.

“Does that mean…” Jimin trailed off a bit scared.

Taehyung took a second before turning around with a big happy boxy grin on his handsome face. That’s not exactly the expression Jimin was expecting but he was even more surprised by his next couple of words. The words he knew Taehyung didn’t get to fully say out loud at the cafe.

“Minnie! She’s the one! She’s our soulmate!! She came back to us. After all this time, she finally came back to us!”

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[redrobin-detective]

Ben 10 lore that exists in my heart regardless of canon

- Ben’s personality in his mid-late teens is a mix of his Alien Force and Omniverse self. On the surface, he’s very cheerful and kind even if he is a bit of arrogant showoff. He makes jokes and plays around and acts as if he isn’t bothered by the things in his life. Those who know him best understand a good portion of his outward confidence and cockiness is just a facade to cover up his insecurities and to project the ideal, effortless hero. While sometimes seen as immature, most beings know Ben 10 means business as he takes his unofficial job and people’s safety very seriously. He’s clever, adaptable, charismatic and empathetic which makes him a formidable opponent and a loyal friend. Doesn’t open up easily but if you get to him, he become so dearly attached. 

- Drinks smoothies so much for several reasons. Comfort food go brrr, reminds him of the good easy times with him Gwen and Kev. It’s also a light but generally nutritous food to give him energy for heroing. Anything too heavy and he’ll be puking (both from physical and emotional stress). Though he jokes about his mom’s health foods, his are a crazy concoction of add in proteins and vitamins/minerals bc he knows he’ll out and out collapse without it. (Still has on occasion bc boy still doesn’t eat right/enough)

- While Fame is exciting for him at first he soon begins to detest it. Not the fans, no, he can’t bring himself to hate the people who look up to him. But he hates the constant attention, that he can’t walk outside without being mobbed. the only place he feels safe is his hometown where most people are so used to him and his weirdness that they don’t react much anymore. Takes to wearing a cape and face shield when going out anywhere so he can actually get things done without being recognized and mobbed.

- Part of the reason Bellwood isn’t concerned with Ben is partially because ben’s been weird and alien for as long as they can remember but also many don’t realize how famous/powerful he is. Yeah that’s just Ben Tennyson over there, sometimes he turns into funny creatures- wait what do you MEAN he’s the savior of the universe?? He cried over a spilled smoothie the other day.

- Does mostly online schooling by the time he’s 15. At first he tries to do half day things to maintain something of a normal life but it quickly becomes overwhelming and dangerous him/the school. Finishes his GED early but the Plumbers and Azmuth make him take additional college level and alien courses to prepare him for his future role. Ben gripes but really does love learning all these things, especially on his terms (ADHD and stress + the public school system do not always go hand in hand). He’s a quick learner when he deems the information important and is made accessible to his learning needs.

- Ben definitely has ADHD speaking of which, it was nearly uncontrollable as a child bc his free-spirited parents didn’t believe in medicating. Ben convinced them he needed it and after some trial and error, found meds that worked. As he became more involved in heroics/growing up he had to change his medicine regimen (resulting in him being a bit more off the rails in OV) and needed antidepressants and therapy to manage it better. As an adult he has a whole litany of coping mechanisms (good and bad yes) and regularly checks in with his therapist and doctors to keep things under control. 

- Has a complicated relationship with his necrofriggian children. Considers himself their mother and worries after them. They too feel a connection to their parent despite this being unusual for their species. A few visit (some more than others) while they grow while others maintain distance. Ben never breathes a word of them to the media for fear of them being targeted. Still he keeps an eye on them and ensures all 14 mature to adulthood (another rarity for the species). Checks in every now and again with the ones who don’t want to see him and those that do. Two join the Plumbers and Ben is both proud and worried. His youngest becomes partners with Rook Ben.

- Just in general loves kids, they’re his favorite fans and while he’ll grumble at pushy adult fans he always smiles and kneels down for the little ones. Not so secretly wanted to have children of his own but knew it was a risk overall and used a lot of that energy with mentoring and teaching. Eventually had Kenny later in life (late 30s-40s) and was over the moon, becoming such a loving and doing parent or as much as he could be with his hectic schedule. 

- Omnitrix can’t come off, never has at any point since it first latched onto Ben’s arm. Azmuth tried and failed to get the device off, doesn’t let Ben know for many years as he feared the consequences. The watch loves and protects Ben even beyond it’s programming making him much more durable to damage and releasing energy charges when he’s threatened. Not even removing Ben’s arm would separate them. They’re stuck for life.

- Ben does have Anodite heritage but the Omnitrix actively suppresses it and uses the built up energy to power the transformations which is why ben is mostly unaffected by what should cause a massive energy drain on him. Theoretically if Ben learned to harness and safely use his Mana at an early age like Gwen he would have been fine but letting it build up without safe outlet meant activation would have killed him. Omnitrix Ben, however, went his whole life not knowing of his latent abilities and how the watch saved his life.

- Ben’s eyes get more green and glowy as time passes from the Omnitrix. At first they think its a trick of the light but by the time he’s an adult his eyes are pretty much glow in the dark. His veins light up too after long stretches of using the Omnitrix. Its vaguely unsettling to people who aren’t used to Ben.

- Max and the Earth Plumbers work so, so hard to keep teen Ben on Earth when half the universe is blowing up their comm lines asking for The Ben 10 to help with whatever problem of the day. Ben himself doesn’t quite understand when he’s younger the prestige and expectations on his shoulders. Max throws up a million and one roadblocks so Ben can live as normal a life as possible while he still can. Still, while doing that he Still overloads Ben with expectations and responsibilities on earth and beyond. He becomes a soldier again with Ben as their greatest weapon. He never forgave himself of losing sight of his grandson underneath the hero esp after Ben’s breakdown. 

- Rook partnership with Ben ends not long after Omniverse with his promotion to Magister. Ben tries to play it cool but the thought of another loved one/teammate leaving his tears him apart. Max revealing that Ben most likely wouldn’t get a new Plumber assigned partner since he’s almost an adult and won’t need it and Rook accidentally missing their last smoothie run due to a scheduling mishap causes Ben to snap and have the nervous breakdown that had been building for almost a decade. He completely loses it for a little while and needs to take an extended leave of absence from school and heroics that lasts about a year. Spends time recovering both on Earth and Galvan Prime, does some diplomatic training, learns about aliens, actually confronts the stress and loneliness of his life. He comes out the other side stronger but still fragile and exhausted.

- Ben’s above mentioned breakdown brings him closer to all his friends who didn’t quite realize the extent of Ben’s burden. Rook had been under the impression Ben didn’t like him all that much so the knowledge that his departure was the final straw for friend/hero’s collapse was shocking. Ben and Azmuth also become closer, the Galvan becoming fiercely protective of the boy seeing as his Earth family didn’t do well to keep him safe. It takes years for him to get over his anger at Max for putting so much on his grandchild. Ben makes more friends, in and out of the hero business, finally gets a therapist and gets some of his burdens eased a bit. It’s not a sure fire fix and Ben has several smaller breakdowns the rest of his life but its something.

- Azmuth was straight up suicidal before he met Ben for the first time. Ben gave him back hope for the universe and his ability to create items for peace not weapons. The boy infuriates him, frightens him, frustrates him but Azmuth cannot deny in his heart of hearts that he loves Ben dearly. He’s very upset at Ben’s breakdown and doesn’t know how to handle the worst of the initail outbursts. Azmuth talks Ben down from a suicide attempt. He reaches out to Ben that he Too felt overwhelmed by pressure, thought himself only good for war. Ben’s arrival in his life saved him and now he will do the same for Ben. It’s the first positive step forward in Ben’s recovery.

- For no other reason than I like it, Azmuth primarily refers to Ben as Benjamin (mostly to annoy the kid but he likes the way it sounds too) and Ben in softer, more serious moments. 

- Professor Paradox continues to flit in and out of Ben’s life. He says its because Ben is the most equipped to handle universal peril (true) but he’s also just very fond of the boy. Ben, existing in so many forms and having such importance also exists a beat outside of normal reality which Paradox identifies with. Ben is naturally attuned to time related problems because of this (instantly IDing Spanner as from the future before being told later deducing him to be his unborn son). Plus Ben named him, way back when. He’s just drawn to Ben.

- Adult Ben, while being seen as an impressively skilled fighter and champion, really has his strength as a universal diplomat of sorts. Based out of Earth, he helps mediate and defuse conflicts, advocate against tyranny and overall preserve peace and balance. He’s not perfect, he makes mistakes and sometimes is forced to become violent (and yes kill) but overall is regarded as a peacekeeper, something younger ben simply couldn’t understand. 

- Gwen gets her degree and primarily does work with advocacy and teaching about magic/alien culture. While she and Ben are still close, there’s a bit of a frustrated divide in that she isn’t helping him share the burden of the universe. Gwen never wanted to be a hero and has enough worth to not shackle herself to a job that’ll burn her out. Ben loves heroing but gives too much of himself away trying to fix everything. They get into screaming arguments that it wouldn’t be so bad out there if she just helped him but she refuses to budge and says he shouldn’t make himself do so much. They always make up and thy still are each other’s closest relationships.

- Ben marries Kai in a political move, Kai is Asexual and Ben Aromantic. They didn’t love each other but they got on well enough and Ben was really feeling the stress of carrying the hero burden so Kai also being involved made him feel like he wasn’t alone. Both were also so tired of the universe constantly asking about their love life and said ‘fuck it we’re married leave us alone’. Gwen was always mad about it feeling Ben deserved better but the two of them were happy with it. They had separate rooms, mostly separate lives but they became strong friends and supports with their strictly platonic marriage. They had Ken via Invitro in an incubator and were loving if extremely busy parents. 

- Also from the moment he appeared, Ben knew that Spanner was his future son, Kenny. He played ignorant and then was kind of deliberately teasing him in future encounters. He knew the rules of time and didn’t want to disrupt things further even if he was angry and worried as heck about why Ken felt the need to time travel. When future Ben catches up in the timeline, Kenny gets SUCH a lecture. 

- Ben isn’t quite immortal but he’s also not entirely human anymore either. The Omnitrix not only keeps him safe from most harm but it lightens the effect of aging. Ben 10 is active many, many years when most humans would have been forced to retire. He’s not sure how long the watch will keep him alive and it terrifies him. Gwen too is functionally immortal however she ages like a normal human, then when her natural death came, shed her skin and became a fulltime Anodite. So in the end, it was her and Ben together wondering which of them will die first. Gwen has trouble retaining her humanity as pure energy and swears she’ll let herself fizzle out when Ben goes. When that’ll be however...