#breakup to makeup

[macden]

It's funny, 'cause feel like you guys are two codependent losers who are so wrapped up in each other that it's hard for you to see how pathetic your lives are. It's like you're an old married couple.

[bouncytrait]

A culinary school graduate still shares this apartment with her ex-boyfriend, a san myshuno-based artist, because they're broke af.

[engie-ivy]

I wrote a follow-up to my previous microfic to turn the break-up fic into a Break-Up, and Make-Up?, fic!

1576 words

Remus and Sirius went from being close friends, to dating, to being friends again. Difficult as that may be, outwardly, they seem to be doing great...

Regrets & Mistakes

“Because she's my best friend!”

“That's all the more reason to tell her!” Lily argues, as she stands in front of the couch Marlene is curled up on. “You know what a good fit you are, you know how well you get on, you know Dorcas is not the kind of person to ever mock you for it, even if she doesn't feel the same,” Lily starts listing off as she paces up and down. “And if she does feel the same, you'll have this great foundation of friendship to build a relationship upon, and you'll have-”

“So much to lose!” Marlene interjects. “Lily,” she sighs, letting herself fall on her back on the couch. “Dorcas is my best friend, one of the most important people in my life. If she doesn't feel the same… Hell, even if she does feel the same, but we somehow muck it up, there's no coming back from that. We'll be forever changed, never the way we were.” Marlene shakes her head. “I don't think I'm willing to risk that.”

“Marls, do you know how many assumptions you are making?” Lily asks. “That it's bound to go up in smoke, for starters. But even if that happens, that doesn't have to permanently damage your friendship.”

Marlene gives her a skeptical look. “How on earth could that not affect a friendship?”

“Remus!” Lily suddenly exclaims, and Remus gives a start, almost dropping the piece of chocolate he was about to eat from the pile they had brought to cheer up Marlene (and if she's not eating it, someone's gotta).

“What?” he asks.

“You and Sirius were best friends,” Lily states. “Then you got together, dated for a while, broke up, and now you're still close friends.”

Remus nods.

“So it's possible!” Lily exclaims. “It's possible to go through a breakup and still be best friends after! Tell Marlene it's possible! Tell her that even the worst-case-scenario doesn't have to be so bad!”

Remus turns to Marlene. “It's not so bad,” he says dutifully.

Lily smiles triumphantly, but Remus continues. “At least, if you don't mind being constantly reminded of the worst mistake you ever made and seeing every single day how you let the best thing that ever happened to you get away, that is.”

"Okay," Lily says slowly. “Let's unpack that-” she gestures towards Remus as a whole “-later. We're now focusing on Marlene's issues.”

“Nope,” Marlene says, picking up a pillow and hiding her face underneath. “Absolutely not. I'm never ever telling her about my feelings now.”

“Here you are.”

Remus slides into the seat across from Sirius, who's drinking his coffee in a coffeeshop different from where they normally go.

“Oh,” Sirius looks startled. “Ehm, I was actually just going to…”

“Avoid me,” Remus states, crossing his arms over his chest.

An angry look passes over Sirius’ face. “Well, I thought you might want some time apart from me.”

“Want time apart from you?” Remus repeats, non-understanding . He's never wanted time apart from Sirius. Even when Sirius had been so intense that Remus had doubted he would ever be able to give Sirius what he needed, and in his anxiety decided to just end things before he would inevitably disappoint him, even when the wound was still so fresh and seeing Sirius made it bleed all over again, even then, Remus had not wanted time apart from Sirius. The pain of seeing Sirius simply wasn't as bad as having to miss Sirius. “Why would I want time apart from you?”

Sirius shrugs, trying to look casual, but Remus can see the tension set in his shoulders. “I dunno. Can't imagine it's very fun to be constantly reminded of ‘the worst mistake you ever made’.”

“Ah,” Remus says, finally understanding what all this is about. “You heard about that.” He still wonders what exactly Sirius is so miffed about. That he talked about their previous relationship behind his back? That he hasn't been honest to him about how hung up he still is on him? Or just the fact alone that he is still hung up on him?

Sirius averts his eyes. “I heard Lily and Marlene talk about how that's what you said.”

“I'm sorry,” Remus says. “I shouldn't have talked about our relationship behind your back.”

Sirius’ eyes snap up to Remus’ face. “It's not that you talked, Remus, it's how you talked! A mistake? Like it's something you regret?”

So it is the fact that he regrets the breakup itself that Sirius is angry about. Honestly, Remus can sort of understand. After all, salvaging their friendship afterwards had been hard, even seemed impossible at times, but they managed. And now, when they have finally established some sort of normalcy between them again, Remus suddenly goes and brings up these lingering feelings.

But even though it took Remus a while to admit to himself that breaking up with Sirius had been a mistake, he's never been particularly happy about the breakup, so it really shouldn't affect how things are between them that much.

“It doesn't have to change anything.”

“How can you say that?” Sirius replies. “How can the knowledge that you consider something that still means so much to me a mistake not change anything?” He shakes his head. “You broke my heart, Remus, you know that.” He's simply stating a fact, which supposedly it is. “And yes, sometimes when I look at you, I still feel so much that I wish I could rip my heart out just to stop it from hurting. But when I recall our time together, I recall falling asleep in your sweater with my head in your lap, dancing to our favourite songs in the living room, wrapping my arms around you from behind as you're making your morning tea. Despite the pain, I would not, I could not, call it a mistake.”

Oh.

With Sirius overhearing Lily and Marlene talk about what Remus said, something clearly got lost in translation. Sirius does not know Remus was referring to the breakup being the worst mistake he ever made, not the relationship itself, not Sirius himself.

“So yeah,” Sirius says eventually, his cheeks slightly colouring, as Remus, still processing this new knowledge, stays quiet. “I figured some space would be good.”

There are so many things Remus wants to say all at once, he doesn't know where to start. “I don't want space,” he begins.

“Well, maybe I do!” Sirius snaps. “Damn you, Remus. How much hurt do you think I can take?” He pushes his chair back and gets to his feet. “I care so bloody much about you, you could basically stab me and I would still love you, but I do have a limit, and after being blindsided with the breakup and now you telling people us dating was a mistake, I think I've reached that limit.”

Before Remus can say anything, Sirius turns on his heels and leaves the coffeeshop.

Emotions are swirling through Remus’ body. Sadness and guilt for how much he has hurt Sirius, of course, but also, perhaps misplaced, hope.

‘I still feel so much’

‘I care so bloody much about you’

‘I would still love you’

Maybe the chapter isn't fully closed yet for Sirius either?

Remus jumps to his feet to follow Sirius, but then he realizes they haven't paid for the coffee yet, and he frantically starts patting his pockets for some cash.

“Oh, just leave it!” A voice says from behind, and Remus turns to find the waitress standing there, with her hands on her hips. “Just go! Go after your man! Go!”

Mumbling a quick ‘thank you’ Remus rushes out of the coffeeshop.

���Sirius, wait!”

Remus grabs Sirius’ elbow, and Sirius stops, sighs, and turns around to face him.

“I don't think of you as a mistake,” Remus says. “It's not dating you that I see as the worst mistake of my life, it's breaking up with you.”

Sirius’ eyes widen and his mouth opens in a silent ‘oh’, and, slightly encouraged, Remus takes a step closer to him.

“Sirius,” Remus says softly. “I regret being a cowardly idiot and giving into my fears by breaking up with you before I could somehow mess it up, but I do not, and will never, regret having been with you.” Without thinking, he places a hand on Sirius’ cheek. “I do not regret falling in love with you, and I do not even regret loving you still.”

Sirius blinks at him. “You… You still…”

“Yes.” Remus leans in just a bit and briefly presses his lips to Sirius’.

Like coming home.

Sirius opens and closes his mouth a couple of times before saying “I… I can't get my hopes up if you'll just run the moment things get too real.”

“I won't,” Remus immediately says. “I've learned my lesson, and I will not hurt you again. I hate that I hurt you in the first place, and I will spend the rest of my life trying to make up for that, if you let me. No, scratch that,” he shakes his head. “I'll do that anyway. How I'll do that, that is up to you.”

Sirius hesitates for a moment. “I guess you can make it up to me…” He says, slowly reaching out and placing his hand over Remus’. “By being the best boyfriend I could possibly wish for.”

A smile breaks out on Remus’ face. “You got it, love.”

[smtown-tourist]

You know, I gotta say, the fact that GOT7 has yet to do a 7 Deadly Sins inspired comeback feels like a crime

[epiphainie]

buck said tommy dumped me in three scenes of this show and they had like fifteen scenes about them total

[xofemeraldstars]

everything after 8x5 is canon divergence to me 🫶 hope this helps 🤗

[bb8banner]

au WIP I have buzzing in my head where their breakup goes a little differently, Tommy never actually proposed to Abby but they were together for a long while. Buck spirals, self-sabotages. Sadness ensues.

...

Buck stared out the passenger seat window of Tommy’s truck as the blur of cars and street lights whizzed by. He hasn't spoken a word since they left Miceli’s and Buck had turned his body out and away from Tommy. Tommy was focused on the road, one hand on the steering wheel, the other by Buck’s side, slack and inviting, hoping Buck would join his hand there, but he didn't. Tommy turned the radio down, and Buck could feel his eyes on him at every red light, but he couldn't turn to face him. His thoughts were racing and he felt almost like crying. For months, Tommy was his, solely his. Now, from one night to the next, he shared him, and with Abby of all people. Buck was nauseous, and it wasn’t from the overindulgence of beer and dessert. Tonight was supposed to be special, romantic, it was supposed to be about them, so why? 

Fuck. Why?  

“Evan, you okay?”

Buck was pulled from his reverie then, he finally turned to face Tommy, if only slightly. “Yeah, I’m fine, why?”

Tommy shrugged casually. “You’ve been quiet since dinner and, I don’t know, I feel like you’re upset.”

“I said I’m fine!” He huffed out, too harshly.

Tommy wasn't having that. “O-kay, now I definitely feel like you’re mad at me and I don’t know what I did to upset you.”

“Can we not do this? I don’t want to fight right now.”

Tommy's eyes shot wide incredulously. “Who said anything about fighting? I thought we had a nice dinner. I had a great night with you, but I can’t read your mind. If I did something wrong, you have to tell me Evan.”

“Just drive, we’ll talk about it later.” 

Tommy took a shallow breath and steeled his gaze on the road, but Buck glanced at both his hands on the steering wheel now, grip firm and white knuckled. Tommy was irritated now, great.

Buck knew he was being difficult, stone walling Tommy. He knew it wasn’t fair, but how could he bring up what actually upset him at dinner. He racked his brain trying to figure out how to make sense of his own thoughts, let alone tell Tommy about it. Hey so you know back at our anniversary dinner when you dropped the atomic bomb of being with a woman named Abby for years, three whole fucking years. Oh and remember when you said you thought about proposing to her, but you pulled the plug when you realized you couldn't commit, you ‘just couldn't do it’ and you left and broke her heart? Oh yeah, and remember when you said that thing about how she went nuts after you left her and she took up with a himbo half her age? Well what do you know? It was me! I’m the himbo! What a coincidence right!? 

How the fuck was he supposed to just casually bring this up? So when Tommy finally parked the truck on his street, he didn’t bring it up. Instead the truth caught on his throat like a proverbial frog. 

“So are you going to tell me what’s bothering you now?”

Buck’s words spilled out like word vomit, and he couldn’t contain the half truths that raced out. “Back at the restaurant, when that girl came up to ask me to take those pictures, you said it was fine for me to look? I just, why would you be okay with that, you wouldn't get upset if I check out other people?”

Tommy’s face twisted in confusion. “What? Evan it was nothing for me to be upset over, she was flirty but harmless and I don’t expect you to magically stop looking at women just ‘cause you’re with me, i’m not naive.  Like I said, it’s fine, harmless.”

“Oh harmless, like you checking out the waiter?” Buck regretted it as soon as it came out, but he couldn't take it back now. It’s not like the waiter wasn't hot, he had been. Buck might have even checked him out himself, just a little, but that wasn’t the point. This argument wasn't even the point, not by a longshot. 

Tommy’s eye roll was practically audible. “Evan, seriously? I literally saw you check out his ass when he walked by, it’s fine. It doesn’t have to mean anything, people are hot, you look, it’s normal. I was there with you, my drop dead gorgeous boyfriend, I was there with you. There’s no need for jealousy.”

“Yeah well, I got jealous, so sue me. Maybe I'm not as evolved as you.” Evan pouted, and Tommy couldn’t hold back anymore.

“Okay Evan, real mature.”

“Oh so now you’re patronizing me? Great, just what I fucking need right now.”

“I don’t know why you’re trying to bait me into an argument Evan, but I'm not going to fight with you tonight, I wanted to have a nice night with you.”

“Yeah? Well it’s too late for that.” Buck said as he flung himself down from the truck and slammed the door shut in a way he knew would piss Tommy off.

“Evan, stop, wait-”

Buck walked faster, trying to make it to the gate of his building. Trying to shake his racing thoughts, trying not to face Tommy with those fucking earnest eyes.

“Evan, please, baby slow down, why are you being like this? Just talk to me.”

Buck whirled around, enough to jar Tommy in his path, and he felt Tommy's hands grip his waist but he couldn't look up to face him, never to face him. “Tommy just… just drop it. I don’t wanna talk, I just want some space. I need… I need a break.”

Buck could feel Tommy’s tense, his hands dropping from Buck’s waist and back to his own sides, hands balling into fists before diving into his jean pockets. Buck could have sworn he heard Tommy’s breath hitch. “A break… a break from this conversation or… or, a break from us?”

What am I doing? What am I doing? What the fuck am I doing? Talk to him. Talk to him, just talk to him. Buck’s guilt ate at him, gnawing at his chest like locusts ravaging a field.

“Evan say something, please.”

 “I don’t know, I don’t know just give me some time I’ll call you in the morning.” 

“Evan…”

“I’ll call you in the morning, I promise.”

Buck left Tommy standing in front of his building, shocked and confused, much like he had been left after their disastrous first date. When Buck got upstairs, he stood, catatonic in the kitchen for what felt like hours. Tonight was supposed to be special, romantic. By now, he’d otherwise be curled up in Tommy’s arms, warm in his bed with Tommy’s body firm against his own. Instead, he was throwing up into the toilet as the cyclone of thoughts whirled in his head. Thoughts of Tommy in Abby’s bed, of them in each other’s arms, for years. For years before Buck was even in the picture. Did Tommy break her? Is that what made Abby noncommittal? Is that why she’d left him, ghosted him, leaving him pining after a woman who’d run off like their relationship hadn't mattered? Like he’d never even existed? Was Tommy the catalyst?

I hear she went a little nuts after I left, took up with some himbo half her age.

Fuck.

The thoughts were whirling again. It’s me, i’m the himbo. You hurt her, and then she hurt me.

When Buck slipped into the bed that night, his sheets smelled faintly like Tommy. Tommy who’s slept over the night before. Tommy who’d held him through the night, legs tangled and arms pulled tight against each other's bodies. Buck hugged his sheets against himself as he fought the urge to open the unread text messages from Tommy.

Tomorrow, he’d figure out what to say, how to say it. Tomorrow he’d apologize, he’d explain. Tonight, he let sleep take him so he wouldn't cry anymore.

[romicat]

Semi-Spoilers here is the entire Sophie apology scene. Will never get tired of how Kamala jumps into her arms and the tears and then the bi-color background at the end

[viwifey]

just saw someone on tt say that Caitlyn probably heard Vi crying the entire time she was climbing back up out of that place.. im not doing well🤗

let’s make it more fun and think about how long vi sat there before choosing to get up and having the realization that there was no where for her to go 🫶

[engie-ivy]

Merry Christmas everyone!🎄

1365 words.

“Well, I've never decided that I wanted to stop seeing him!” Hope says defensively, crossing her arms over her chest. “That he's no longer a part of your life doesn't mean he should no longer be a part of mine.”

“He's my ex!” Remus exclaims. “You're my mother! That's exactly what it means!”

Wonderful Once Upon a Time

Make It To Christmas - Alessia Cara

“Well, well, well. Who do we have here?”

Hope Lupin freezes from where she had been sneaking into the house. No, not sneaking. It's her own house after all. Just walking. Inconspicuously. Without making any sound. Trying to not get noticed.

The last part clearly didn't work, as Remus is sitting at the kitchen table, arms crossed over his chest, giving his mother a stern, but also slightly smug, look.

“Remus!” Hope says, just a tad too high-pitched. “Oh my, you startled me.” She lets out a very unconvincing laugh.

Remus just arches an eyebrow. “Where have you been?”

“Oh,” Hope says, trying (and most likely failing) to sound casual. “I was just visiting your auntie Joy.”

“Is that so?” Remus asks slowly.”How strange. Auntie Joy called about an hour ago to tell you she isn't making the Christmas pudding this year. Now, why would she call here to talk to you while you're over there?”

Hope makes an awkward chuckling sound. “Did I say aunt Joy? Silly me, I meant aunt Faith!”

“Oh,” Remus says in a light voice that really should've alarmed her. “How did you like her big Christmas tree?”

“Oh, yes, it's lovely, very lovely,” Hope replies quickly.

“Ahha!” Remus points his finger at her. “Auntie Faith doesn't have a Christmas tree this year, as she's afraid the cat is going to climb it.”

Hope curses inwardly as Remus gets up from his chair and walks over to her, looking at her intently. Hope tries not to squirm under his gaze.

“I ask you again,” Remus says emphatically. “Where have you been?”

Before Hope can answer, Remus’ gaze shifts down for a moment and he notices the package in Hope's bag. His eyes narrow. “Are those… Rosemerta’s cookies?”

Damn Rosemerta for always giving Hope some cookies to take home, and damn herself for being too weak to resist!

“You've had lunch at The Three Balls of Holly,” Remus concludes. Then his eyes widen in shock. “Mother,” he hisses. “Are you having an affair?”

“Yes,” Hope immediately says. “You've caught me. I was out on a clandestine rendez-vous with my secret lover behind your father's back!”

Remus stares at her for a moment and then shakes his head. “Okay, so it's clearly not that. Now tell me where you really were.”

Hope gives up, and decides to come clean. She sighs in defeat. “I was out for lunch with Sirius.”

“What?!” Remus gasps.

“Well, I've never decided that I wanted to stop seeing him!” Hope says defensively, crossing her arms over her chest. “That he's no longer a part of your life doesn't mean he should no longer be a part of mine.”

“He's my ex!” Remus exclaims. “You're my mother! That's exactly what it means!”

“Come on, darling,” Hope says appeasingly. “You know I've always been very fond of the boy.”

Remus doesn't look the slightest bit appeased.

Hope makes herself a cup of tea, with Remus sitting back down at the kitchen table, with a sour look on his face, moping. She sits down across from him and stirs her tea, waiting patiently.

She doesn't have to wait long.

“So,” Remus eventually says reluctantly. “Sirius is back in town, huh?”

“He is,” Hope only replies.

Remus groans in frustration, and forces the next words out. “How was he?”

“Good,” Hope decides to stop teasing him and starts to talk. “He finished art school before the summer, and then spent some months working in New York, building a clientèle, before only recently coming back to town. He seemed well. Still very handsome.” She takes a sip from her tea before adding “And still single.”

“Mum!” Remus warns.

Another silence falls, during which Hope, again, waits patiently.

“Did he…” Remus begins hesitantly after a moment. “Did he say anything about me?”

Hope looks at her son fondly. “Darling, do you really think that Sirius could go and have lunch with your mother and not talk about you?” She giggles. “I was teasing the poor dear-” maybe she does that a bit too often, now that she thinks about it “-and I started telling him all about your father's bad knee, to see how long he would last. He made it an impressive five minutes, before blurting out ‘how's Remus?’ right in the middle of my sentence.” She shakes her head, smiling. “When I told him you now work at the local school, he said he could easily imagine you as a teacher.”

Remus also smiles. “Just like I can easily imagine him in his own art studio, surrounded by his paintings.”

“Oh,” Hope says. “I didn't tell you! You know Mr Kettleburn’s old cottage, in the woods at the edge of town? The one that hasn't been used in almost a year? Well, Sirius bought it! He's going to turn it into his workplace, a calming place for him to paint. Of course our town doesn't quite have the art scene New York has, or much of a market to sell art, but Sirius says he just doesn't feel the inspiration he feels here when he's in the city. He hopes that with the name he has already made and the clientèle he has already built, he'll be able to sell his paintings from here.”

Remus stares at her. “Huh. So Sirius is staying in town.”

Hope tilts her head. “Does that surprise you?”

Remus shrugs. “I guess I just always thought he would either accept that job as Creative Director at his family's company and travel the world meeting interesting, important people, or open up some fancy art gallery in some trendy, artsy neighborhood in New York, or maybe travel to all the major art capitals of the world showcasing his work… I always thought that this small town simply wouldn't be enough for him.”

“Sirius has always been very clear about that,” Hope says gently. “He has always told you that he loves this place, that it feels like home. That this town, his paintings, you, are all he needs.”

“Yeah,” Remus says. “But I always thought he was just saying that, y’know? I was…"

“You were listening to your own fears and anxieties, instead of listening to him,” Hope finishes for him.

Remus rubs his temples. “I really fucked up when it comes to Sirius, didn't I?”

Hope purses her lips. “I certainly wouldn't use that language,” she says. “But yes, I do believe the way you pushed Sirius away was a mistake. But,” she adds in a softer tone. “Sometimes mistakes can be fixed.”

“Right,” Remus says bitterly, averting his eyes. “Like Sirius would ever want to talk to me again after what I did to him.”

Hope holds back a groan of frustration.

Like Sirius would ever want to stay in a place like this. Like Sirius would ever want to talk to me again.

“Well,” she says coolly, crossing her arms over her chest. “If you still haven't learned your lesson about deciding for Sirius what he does and does not want based on your own insecurities rather than talking to him and listening to what he's actually saying, then yes, it's better if you just leave the poor boy alone.”

Remus closes his eyes for a moment. “I really am doing it again, aren't I? I'm sorry. I just…"

“He really misses you, Remus,” Hope says, reaching out and taking her son’s hand. “And I know you miss him too. Sweetheart, everybody makes mistakes, and that's okay.” She squeezes his hand. “Especially if you learn from those mistakes and don't make the same mistakes twice.”

Remus gives her a small smile. “I suppose I could talk to him some time. Especially now that he's gonna be around for the foreseeable future.”

Hope smiles back at him. “That's good to hear, darling.” She gets up from her chair, places her cup in the sink, and walks over to the kitchen door, before turning around in the door opening and adding “Because I invited him over for Christmas brunch tomorrow.”

Remus jerks his head up and stares at her wide-eyed. “Mum!”

“Now excuse me,” Hope smiles innocently. “I've gotta go hang up some more mistletoe.”

“MUM!”

[thepenultimateword]

Mini Snippet Part Two

Part One

CW: Sleep deprivation, self-starving, some depression and major insecurity, death mention, murder mention

Villain missed the milk jug twice before finally wrapping their fingers around the handle. They heaved it into their cart with a clang loud enough to earn a few looks, but they were simply grateful their trembling arm had made it that far. Even just standing was exhausting. They knew the remedies. Proper food and proper sleep, but both, as easy as they seemed, seemed to linger just out of reach..

Gory images of Hero plagued their vision every time they closed their eyes. Those lifeless eyes staring straight into their heart. Hero had no qualms about killing people; Villain shouldn't feel so bad about returning the favor, and yet...their stomach hadn't stopped churning since. They could barely keep a meal down a day, and so they watched themselves fearfully, helplessly, grow gaunter. And weaker. And more lost.

Villain swiped their fist across the sudden wetness in their eyes and moved their cart out of the way of the refrigerators. They had tried contacting Supervillain several times since their argument. And then several more times after the...incident. Nothing but silence.

Why had they let Hero go? If they'd just let Supervillain take care of it all like they'd intended then maybe they wouldn't be so miserable.

Who do you feel guilty about? Hero or us?

Shut up.

You agonize over an enemy, but you killed us too. The henchmen's voices blended together in their head. always angry. Always accusing. It had only begun after a few days of sleep deprivation. If they could just sleep... But they couldn't sleep. You thought you could fix it so easily? You're pathetic.

"Please shut up," Villain begged, pressing their forehead to the cart's handlebar.

"Villain?"

Villain's head shot up. Too fast. They swayed a little on their feet, only balanced by a steadying hand on their shoulder. They stared down at the gentle touch, blinking in confusion at the all-too-familiar callouses and scars. Slowly, slowly, as if worried they might disappear, another illusion in a series of persistent figments, they lifted their gaze to Supervillain's face.

The hand drifted up their neck and jaw, cupping their face. Reassuringly tangible. Villain melted into the warmth, fighting the urge to throw themselves against their lover's--ex-lover?--chest.

"You're so thin." Supervillain's thumb stroked up and down their cheekbone. "Have you been eating?"

Villain choked on a sob.

"Hey...hey..." Their other hand clasped the back of their neck, giving a gentle squeeze before quickly freezing and dropping again. Then the hand on their cheek dropped too. Arms hung limp and awkward at their sides. Supervillain wet their lips. "It's... good to see you."

"Really?" Villain hated the emotion in their voice. "You've done an awful lot to avoid me."

"I needed space."

"I needed to talk to you."

"I had the funerals." Villain flinched at the hardening of that word. "Amends to the families. Then I had to completely reevaluate security. Prepare defenses against anything Hero might have shared with other heroes. But then Hero got themselves killed anyway, which was a whole other fiasco."

"I killed them." The words fell heavy and cold, out of Villain's mouth. Dead things.

Supervillain gaped.

"For you. I killed them for you. To...try to...I don't know...fix things? I know it wasn't much of a fix but..." They swallowed.

"No." Supervillain's eyes roved them up and down. "No. You didn't. You didn't kill anyone. ...Did you?"

Villain stepped back, their spine resting against the bar of their cart. They stared down at the scuffed tile. “I needed to talk to you.”

Some stupid part of them had thought if they could just get to Supervillain it would all be ok. They could tell them it was alright. Hug them. Praise them. Love them.

But now they were here. And Villain felt no difference at all.

They rubbed their knuckles between their eyes, sparking starry pain across the blood in their vision. “I can’t unsee it. Unfeel it.”

"You didn't need to do that. I never asked you to..."

Villain looked up at them. “Do you forgive me now?"

“You didn’t need to do that,” Supervillain repeated. Their face twisted mournfully, creases along their eyes where only real pain ever creased them.

Villain’s gut dropped.

“Did I make it worse? Am I…am I ruined?”

Supervillain used to tease them about their supposed villain’s purity. Plenty of crime and callousness, but none of the bone-chilling harm many villains frequented. It had drawn Supervillain to them in the first place. They found it cute. Well, until that cuteness backfired like shrapnel into ten bodies.

Villain only wanted to turn things back the way they were. They never considered Supervillain might be even more disgusted with them changed.

Villain clenched the hem of their shirt, shoulders shuddering. Maybe they should run. Ditch the groceries and get somewhere where those disappointed eyes didn’t dig into them. They couldn’t run very fast, but they doubted supervillain would give chase anyway.

Strong arms wrapped them tight and close.

“You’re not ruined.”

“But—”

“You’re not,” Supervillain growled. “You’re just…just…sort of different. And that’s fine. Because the important parts are still there.” They squeezed a little tighter, digging their jaw into Villain’s thin shoulder. “And I’m sorry you felt you had to do something like that for me. I should have reached out.”

Do you love me again?

The words danced across Villain’s ragged brain, but they couldn’t bring themselves to put them into sound. What if the answer was no?

“Come with me.” Supervillain loosed Villain from their embrace, but kept a firm grip on their hand as they transferred their own items into Villain’s cart, quickly taking control and rolling toward the checkout. “You need several hot meals and a warm bed.”

“I-I-” Villain stumbled after them with aggravating incoherence.

“Who else is going to take care of you?” Supervillain challenged, of course picking up meaning in their syllables of protest.

Tears sprang to Villain’s eyes. That was more ‘I love you’ than words could ever say.

***

Well, this sort of came out of nowhere. If you prefer the angst of part one you can pretend it ended there. If you prefer happy endings, I hope you enjoyed. It’s also been a while since I wrote part one, so the vibe may be different.

Master Taglist:

@moss-tombstone @crazytwentythrees @just-1-lonely-person @the-vagabond-nun @willow-trees-are-beautiful @cocoasprite @insanedreamer7905 @valiantlytransparentwhispers @whovian378 @watercolorfreckles @thebluepolarbear @yulanlavender @kitsunesakii @deflated-bouncingball @lem-hhn @office-plant-in-a-trenchcoat @ghostfacepepper @pigeonwhumps @demonictumble @inkbirdie @vuvulia @bouncyartist @lunatic-moss-studio @breilobrealdi @freefallingup13 @i-am-a-story-goblin @ryunniez @rainy-knights-of-villany @distractedlydistracted @saspas-corner @echoednonny @perilous-dreamer @blood-enthusiast @randomfixation @alexkolax @pksnowie @blessupblessup @wolfeyedwitch @thedeepvoidinmyheart @cornflower-cowboy @bestblob @a-chaotic-gremlin @espresso-depresso-system @prompt-fills-and-writing-spills @paleassprince @takingawildbreath @yindo @psychiclibrariesquotestoad @harpycartoons @pickleking8 @urmyhopeeee @goldenflame2516 @tobeornottobeateacher @talesofurbania1 @sweetsigyn

[lunarharp]

o r u f r e y

[weewookinard]

Is sneak peek saturday a thing??

I wanted to tease the next chapter of The Saddest Part of Me because I love it when people are mad at me ❤️

He suddenly realised that he was still holding the little box. He dropped It and the ring fell from it. The jewel looked so small now, and yet so big. Big enough to destroy his world. Bigger than the wave that destroyed the pier. Evan had known for a while now what it was like to drown. It hurts. A lot. “Say something before I lose my mind.”

Come read from the beginning on AO3 and don't hesitate to say hi in the comment! 😊💕

[afewproblems]

WIP Wednesday

I'm actually posting on WIP Wednesday, the stars have finally aligned in my favour!

Thank you to @outpastthebrakers for your tag today and @steves-strapcollection for your multiple tags before - its finally lined up today!!

Here is Part Two of my follow up to this Post (Steddie Breakup) hopefully with a Steddie makeup/fix-it future!

(Also! Important to note, season four - specifically the stuff with Vecna- Never happened in this AU)

***

Two Years later - 1987, Chicago, IL

Steve picks up another box from the back of the beemer. This one has, 'Steve's Obnoxious Hair Care,' neatly printed on the side in bold black sharpie --Steve snorts at the sight and vows to never let Robin help him pack ever again. 

He walks up the three flights and through the propped open front door to the two bedroom apartment.

It's small, just barely enough for two people, but in downtown Chicago, it's a steal at the price. 

And it's theirs. 

"Hey Birdie," Steve calls out from the kitchen, he sets the box down on the counter, turning his head to the left slightly to listen for her shuffling. The dull ringing in his right ear makes it more difficult, present ever since he left his parents house for good.

It had gotten even worse since their Russian encounter, but if he's weighing the pros and the cons of that night, he's glad he got Robin out of the deal.

Steve steps into the living room just off the kitchen, "Robin?"

Bright sunlight streams through the curtainless windows bathing Robin in a warm yellow glow. 

She stands in the center, facing Steve, with a pensive expression, her eyes scanning the space around her. 

"Hush Dingus," she mutters, holding up her pointer finger to her lips, "I'm visualizing". 

"Ah, of course," he concedes with a fond smile as Robin walks towards him slowly counting her steps. She lines her feet up as she moves, touching the toe of her right foot to the heel of her left. She wobbles slightly as she makes it to where Steve is standing, he reaches out to steady her with a laugh.

"I told you the living room was more than ten feet!"

"Robin, do you think that a 'foot' is literally your foot?" 

Robin sucks her teeth and rolls her eyes, before plucking the measuring tape from where it was clipped to her back pocket, "you have no concept of joy, you refuse to let me live".

"Yeah, yeah, so hard done by," he snorts as she sticks her tongue out at him and leans down to pick up one of the empty boxes.

She sighs and looks around the space again with a contented expression before looking at Steve, "well, Dingus, I think we did good".

Steve nods and tries to smile back but the expression doesn't quite meet his eyes, Robin tilts her head, turning the box over in her hands at the corners.

"What's wrong?" She says softly, anxiously, her blue eyes dart over his face, "is it a migraine? Do you need your meds?"

Steve shakes his head, wincing before he can stop himself, he knows Robin's brain would come up with the worst case scenario first. And, to be fair to her, she had seen the worst case scenarios and after effects of the Russian interrogation, she'd held his hand after spilling his guts from the nausea and halos in his vision, she'd insisted he buy blackout blinds for his room because, 'you never know when you'll need them Dingus, you won't always get one of these at night'.

Steve shakes his head, "no, it's not a migraine, relax Robs," he huffs as she levels him with a disbelieving stare.

"I just," Steve chews his lip for a moment as he drops his gaze to the floor. Robin steps closer, tilting her head to the side as he struggles to find the words.

"I love that you came with me, that we get to be here, but," Steve sighs and runs a hand through his hair. It's longer than it had been two years ago, the gold and copper from his time in the warm summer sun slowly fading back to brown.

"Eddie always talked about leaving Hawkins someday, and I always thought it would be with me".

"This was our plan," he says softly, lifting his eyes to meet Robin's own, her brows pinched in a small frown.

"And I managed to screw that up like everything else," he trails off softly.

***

"I just don't understand why you have to go to this thing, you aren't even interested in his stupid job?" Eddie growls as he tosses the pencil up at his bedroom ceiling, it stays for just a moment before falling back into his waiting hands. Pock marks litter the tile from previous throws and Steve is sure Wayne's told him to knock it off more times than he can count.

"It's complicated," Steve says lowly, he pictures his dad's thunderous face, the same square jaw and straight nose that Steve has, they could be identical but for their ages and the cold grey eyes his father has. 

Steve took after his mother in that area, inheriting her large hazel eyes and long lashes. 

"No it's not," Eddie says stubbornly, he throws the pencil with more force this time and it hangs in the ceiling between them, "you could tell him to stuff his job up his ass".

"Eddie--"

"No, no, you know we had a show tonight, and you're choosing to go to your dad's fundraiser instead?"  

Steve sighs and bites the inside of his cheek, tamping down the urge to argue with his boyfriend.

But, they've never really had this talk before, Steve's never told anyone about his father and his homelife. 

Right now he wishes he had.

"It's not like I have much of a choice," he huffs as Eddie rolls his eyes and scoffs, "and not all of us have someone like Wayne to encourage us to do whatever we want".

"That's such bullshit and you know it," Eddie hisses ignoring the slight flinch from Steve, "you always do this". 

What?

"You never want to come to our shows, you never want to sit in on Hellfire--"

"That's not true," Steve growls, crossing his arms over his stomach, he hunches in on himself slightly but Eddie shakes his head.

"Yes it is! When was the last time you came to a show?"

Steve wracks his brain, trying to remember the name of the bar they had played at, it wasn’t the Hideaway, it had been a bit of a drive to get there. It was a dive bar that had sounded like it was straight out of Robin Hood, The Red Lion?

"See!" Eddie takes his silence as victory and throws his hands up in the air, "what did I tell you?"

"Jesus, it was a bar show just like all of them Eddie, it's not like you guys were playing on MTV or something," Steve snaps, the last threads of his patience wearing thinner and thinner. 

"Oh fuck off, MTV is part of the problem, do you not listen when I talk?"

"I always listen to you!" Steve cries out, his voice climbs in volume and his hands shake as adrenaline spikes, "sometimes you just talk and talk and talk and you say nothing important but I always listen to you!"

"Woooow, fuck you," Eddie scoffs as he turns on his heel and opens his bedroom door, Steve follows him, fuming but wary.

"Since everything I say is bullshit, apparently, and you don't want to come to our shows or spend time with me then maybe you should just go!"

Steve halts in his tracks.

Eddie stands by the open front door to the trailer, his cheeks are red and his mouth is a flat line carved in the middle of his face.

Steve feels his heart rate tick up as he stands there frozen.

They've had disagreements before, small petty arguments but this feels big. Much bigger than any fight they've ever had. 

"Eddie-"

"Nope, unless you tell me you're coming tonight, we're done".

Oh.

And just like that, it hurts just as much as when Nancy had told him she didn't love him the previous year. It's too much, he needs to leave.

"Yeah, you know what Eddie, I don't need this," Steve says so softly that Eddie leans forward to hear before reeling back as though struck, "I don't," he shakes his head and walks past Eddle towards the open door. 

Eddie's hands twitch as though he wants to reach out to Steve, to pull him back into the trailer, but they remain at his sides.

"You're right," Eddie yells after him as Steve walks down the gravel drive to his car, "you don't need us, we don't need you, go crawling back to daddy just like always".

Steve stops walking and looks back at Eddie. The metal-head's wide brown eyes are shiny with angry tears. 

Steve feels his own angry tears pooling along his lash line.

He gets in the car and drives away, ignoring the tightness in his chest as he heads home.

***

"Okay, first of all," Robin says sharply as she drops the box at their feet and pokes him in the chest with a rigid pointer finger, "you're damn right you're happy I came with you, I am a catch!" 

Steve rolls his eyes as Robin clears her throat imperiously until he raises his hands in surrender.

"Second, he found out about your dads shit, saw you beaten to hell and back, and didn't even want to have a conversation? Fuck that noise".

"Birdy, you weren't there, and you don't even know Eddie--"

"I know you though," she continues, staring him down, "and I know if the roles were reversed, you would have at least heard him out".

Steve holds back a wince, attempting to keep his expression as neutral as possible. He knows she isn’t right, he knows he made a mistake that night walking away, they should have talked, they should have had it out. 

Steve should have told Eddie the truth. 

Then again, Eddie dropped him like it was nothing so maybe he was better off in the long run.

Strangely enough this thought doesn’t make him feel better.

"Robin," Steve sighs wearily, crossing to the wall of the living room before leaning his back against it to slide down to the floor. 

"Tell me I'm wrong," she says softly, walking towards his spot on the floor, she settles beside him and nudges his shoulder with her own.

"Tell me I'm wrong and I'll drop it," she says again, firmly this time.

Steve breathes out a sigh and brings his knees to his chest, looking towards the window. 

The view isn't much, just the street and other buildings, but the Chicago skyline seems to stretch for miles ahead of them.

"You’re not wrong," he says eventually, ignoring the crow of triumph Robin makes, "but you're not right either".

She scoffs and leans her head against his shoulder, the soft waves of her hair tickle the skin on his bare arm but the weight and warmth of her is comforting.

"Besides, it was years ago," Steve mutters, "I'm sure he's forgotten all about me by now".

tagging: @strangersteddierthings @flowercrowngods @steddierthings @steddie-there @henderdads and anyone else that would like to participate! (Please tag me with your wonderful creations! Also I apologize if you've already been tagged - feel free to ignore this!)

[kinardsevan]

So I’m really struggling with my version of the break up/make up/get back together trope bc I just really love the boys and am stuck in the honeymoon stage with them…

But I just came up with a different way to do it that would completely throw off the original concept.

[chaoortu]

okay so it LOOKS like the posting schedule for fic stuff is February 1st: first chapter of anatomy of a rose (updated when I want to.) February 14th: Poppy seed sequel (releasing weekly) March 1st: Makeup breakup fic (releasing weekly)