#doesn’t make for a good fic though so. eh.

[celestiamour]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ the "dying" wolverine ]❜

ft. logan howlett x gn! reader — xmen, marvel

╰���✧ taking care of logan when he’s sick┊0.8k words

setting: deadpool & wolverine (2024) worst! logan contains: fluff, established relationship

➤ author's note: i’m feeling like shit so i’m making him suffer with me

what part of regenerative healing don’t you understand? it’s impossible for him to get sick in any capacity as his immune system is stronger than the adamantium in his body, so feel free to read any of the other logan fics written by all the amazing writers on this platform!!

but let’s say that he somehow contracted a special bug that managed to get past all that and managed to make him fall ill, requiring you to take care of him while wade goes on a mission to figure out what’s wrong with him…

this headstrong two-hundred-year mutant who can take stab wounds without flinching and is an invincible tank in battles will be the whinest son of the bitch. he always lets his guard down around you, but he’s the most vulnerable and immature that he’ll ever allow himself to be around anyone since he can’t remember the last time (or if he has ever in his life) felt so shitty. shivering despite being feverish and covered up in blankets which just made him sweaty and uncomfortable, an itchy nose that wouldn’t sneeze when he needed it to, coughing his lungs out every two minutes— it’s so alien to him.

when you finally show up to look after him, he’ll have uncharacteristically big puppy eyes as you gently place your hand on his forehead to gauge how bad it is. “how are you feeling, lo?”

“i feel like i’m going to fucking die.” there are several discarded tissues and water bottles overfilling the nearby trashcan, but it was clear that he had no idea how he was supposed to make himself feel better and suffering.

“i can tell,” you chuckle at how dramatic he sounds and it makes him frown, but he’s just so thankful that you’re here to take care of him (he doesn’t exactly trust al to do it, that woman is a bit too mysterious and cryptic for him, and the medicine she offered smelled funny even to his dulled senses). “let me go make you some soup.”

he doesn’t want you to leave at first because your cold skin feels so good against him, but he’ll lightly doze off for a bit now that he’s more comfortable and feels safer. don’t expect him to stay asleep for long though, he’ll get up from his little while you’re in the middle of cooking chicken vegetable soup to wrap his arms around you and rest his head on top of yours until you finish.

“why are there barely any vegetables in the fridge? i could only find half a carrot and wilted celery.”

“i don’t think anyone here eats that stuff.”

“logan, you need to eat your greens— all you guys do, how are all three of you in such good shape then?!”

“eh.”

he can’t make anything more complicated than butter noodles, wade sets nearly everything on fire, he feels slightly guilty eating the food made by an elderly blind lady when he’s already freeloading at the moment, and constantly ordering take-out becomes expensive. you’ve given some food in tupperware for him to eat up, but it isn’t quite the same. as if being sick didn’t make him miserable enough, he’s so fucking pissed that he couldn’t properly taste your freshly-cooked food and will make it known.

you scoff that it’s just soup and pour it out in a bowl for him to eat, but you’ll quickly find yourself spoon-feeding him. yes, his hands still work with perfectly fine motor functions. no, you’re not passing up the opportunity to baby him while he rolls his eyes (he’ll grunt at most and doesn’t say a word of protest, claiming that he’s merely allowing it since he’s too tired to fight with you over it and very glad no one could see it happening).

“here comes the airplane~”

“i’m a grown-ass man, don’t be ridiculous.”

“a grown-ass man without an ounce of whimsy in his life, open your fucking mouth and eat.”

this is one of the lower points in his life where he doesn’t quite understand why this is happening to him yet, so you obviously have give him as much affection as possible! keeping a cold glass of water nearby and a wet rag to dab on his face, he rests his head upon your thighs and you swear that you can hear him purring like a kitten. there’s not better pillow than his lover, soft, warm, and full of love as you hum a song to lull him to sleep.

“let’s get married one day…” he not sure how that slipped past his lips, it might be the fever talking for him, or the fact that he’s completely relaxed without any tension in his muscles and feeling himself falling in love all over again when you smile so sweetly at him

“okay, but you need to sleep and get better first.” you place a gentle kiss on his forehead until his eyes slowly drift shut, “i love you, logan.”

[ghostboybrainrot]

DPxDC Ghost Zone Amity AU Part 2

Part 1   Part 3  Part 4  AO3

Edit: I finally got around to adding this to AO3, link above.

Wow! I am completely blown away by the reaction the first part! It’s the first fic idea I ever posted. Thank you so much for all the likes and messages. I have a lot of ideas for this AU but I‘m new to writing so please be patient. I also would love to hear anyone’s ideas.

--------

Batman wanted to see the portal himself. Because of course he did. Nosy idiot couldn't let them handle it. And John Constantine just knew the bat was gonna make things harder on him.

"Can you disable it?" Gotham's knight asked.

"Of course not! This is some sci-fi bullshit and I don't do sci-fi. I do Magic, thank you very much.”

"You said you could sense death coming from it."

Constantine ran his hand through his hair, frustrated.

"Yeah but that doesn't mean I know how! This shouldn't be possible. And it radiates Death, capital D. This isn't just a device that has been exposed to death. It's owned by the Dead.

A grunt was all Constantine got as a reply, as the knight continued to examine the machine.

"Do you know where it goes?"

"To the DEAD! Haven't you been listening?! You know the Underworld? Hereafter? Netherworld? Hell with two L's? Hel with one L? Purgatory? Pandemonium? Hades? Tartarus? Any of these ringing a bell?"

Batman does not dignify the outburst with a response but he turns toward Constantine for the first time since they entered the building, narrowing his eyes.

"Which one?"

Constantine waved his hands noncommittally, "Eh, could be any of them. Could be ALL of them. They aren't completely separate. Like different branches of the same company. Different regional managers but all equally shitty.

Batman grunts again, turning back to the swirling mass. After a moment, he starts to fiddle with something on his belt. Constantine couldn't see what he was doing but he already didn't like it. Every time the bat investigated something that Constantine thought was better off left alone, his day would inevitably get MUCH worse. For the millionth time, he wonders why he bothers to associate with these idiots.

Batman pulls what he was messing with from beneath his cloak. His grapple gun? Constantine took several steps back. Nope. Nope, he definitely isn't gonna like this. 

Instead of firing the gun, Batman slowly pulled at the hook loosening the wire until he had roughly 10 ft of it coiled in his hand. Then without any hesitation, he approached the swirling green, tossing the hook inside. It promptly disappeared, quietly, as though it had simply sunk into murky water.

They both waited. No sound could be heard except the ambient buzzing of electronics coming from the large machine. Batman stood a few feet from the portal, watching the line intensely. He had braced himself as though he expected the line to snap taut at any moment and pull him in. After roughly a minute and no such thing happened, Batman slowly reeled in the line feeding it back into the gun.

The hook came into view, no worse for wear. None of the green substance lingered on it. After briefly examining it, Batman clipped it back to his belt. Constantine was slightly disappointed that it hadn't come back ablaze or melting, only because it would help him narrow it down. Having it come back unscathed didn't really tell him where it led. Then again the fact that it wasn’t instantly destroyed from coming in contact with the portal was probably a good thing.

"I think you gotta put worms on the end if you wanna catch something Bats." Constantine joked. He knew the man wouldn't react but couldn't help it. 

To his surprise, John heard a chuckle from directly behind him. It startled him but he did his best to not show it. He knew who it was and didn't want to give him the satisfaction.

Boston Brand, Deadman, slowly floated into view in front of the magician. He was watching Batman but directed his comment toward John.

"I was expecting the Bat to get dragged in! A little disappointed if I'm bein' honest." Deadman laughed.

"I'd be lying if I didn't feel somewhat similar. When'd you get in?"

"Not too long ago," the ghost said conversationally, "I did a quick lap around the crater. Phew! That thing is huge!"

"No kidding? I hadn't noticed." The magician snarked, pulling a cigarette out and placing it between his lips. He wouldn't light up in here. He wouldn't want to piss off the Bat but the familiar feel on his lips brought him a small amount of comfort.

Batman seemed to have noticed Constantine's one sided conversation. He turned to stare at the occultist, his eyes narrowing again. 

"Boston?"

"Who else?" Constantine grumbled.

Suddenly, without warning, he felt a cold wave rush over him as the ghost phased into his body. He felt his mouth open, his cigarette fell to the ground, and a voice that wasn't quite his own spoke.

"Hiya Batman! Long time no see! I heard you guys could use a little help?" John's face grinned without his approval. The voice coming from John had a Brooklyn accent and was entirely too cheerful for his liking.

Batman nodded, unsurprised by the English man’s sudden accent and demeanor change. He gestured over his shoulder toward the machine.

"What can you tell me about this device?"

"Umm..." John's legs brought him a little closer and his hand came up to his chin as though he was thinking hard. "I mean it's definitely spooky, I get kindof a weird vibe from it but other than that. Meh." He shrugged. "Not really my area, Bats."

"Does it seem dangerous?"

"Honestly? I don't think so. Like Constantine said it definitely radiates Death but not like in like in a scary way. Hard to describe. Feels kinda like a nap after a long day, ya know?"

Batman didn't respond. There was a good chance he didn’t know. Constantine had never know the man to take a break. Did he even know what a nap was?

"Would you be willing to investigate?"

"Ya mean like go in? I suppose. Not like I'm getting any deader. Ha!"

As quickly as it appeared, the cold sensation that gripped him vanished and John Constantine's body was his own again.

"Bloody ghost! You made me drop my cig." He bent down to retrieve the cigarette, brushed it off, and put it back in his mouth. John hated when Deadman did that. Which was probably the reason he did it. He could have just asked John to translate. Or better yet ask him to magic Batman's eyes so he could see the ghost! But Boston loved to see John frazzled. As annoying as it was to be on the receiving end, John couldn’t begrudge the ghost his fun. He knew how lonely it could be being dead in the land of the living. No one even knowing he was there. Constantine may not be dead but he’d been around it enough to know how isolating it could be.

"Sorry John!" The ghost called back goodnaturedly, already heading toward the portal. "Wish me luck!"

The ghost flew through the portal and the room was quiet once again. Batman couldn't see the ghost had disappeared but he followed John's gaze toward the machine and waited. Accurately guessing he had already passed through.

After a short moment, Constantine wondered if he had enough time to go outside for a quick smoke. But before he could decide, Deadman's head poked back through the swirl of green. The rest of him followed close behind, looking exactly the same as when he left.

"Well?" John asked impatiently.

"Seems safe enough. It leads to another portal on the other side. No monsters or anything."

Batman spoke up, "What's he saying?"

Constantine, taking a page out of Batman's book, ignored the knight continuing to address the ghost. "And? Where does it come out?"

"That's the weird thing. I think it's just a garage."

-------

That’s all I have for now! Let me know how i did and what you think should happen next.

I have a lot of ideas on what happens to GZ Amity, and coincidentally humanity as a whole, as a result of it getting stuck. I like to think that over time this creates a whole subspecies of liminal humans and GZ Amity ends up giving a solar(ecto?) punk vibe.

Jack and Maddie are LOVING living in the ghost zone. After the initial shock, and a short adjustment period, they throw themselves into their research just as hard as before but instead of focusing on weapons they focus on researching the properties of the ghost zone. They use what they learn to better the lives of the residents of the town.

Amity Parkers don’t leave when they die. Old Evelyn Baker is still there like 300 years in the future. And because no one leaves, the town expands.

Blob ghosts wander around the city like stray cats. People treat them like pets. The Fentons create a blob collar especially for ecto-pets that is designed to stay on despite their semi-intangible nature. Using that design they are able to make equipment that will automatically phase WITH the user without having to dedicate extra energy to it.

I like the idea of Vlad coming around eventually. I think it would be funny for liminal!Amity Parkers gaining a resistance to overshadowing. And because Amity isn’t really part of the US anymore, his vast wealth doesn’t really do him any good. So here he is sad and alone. All his plans have failed and his power is rendered almost entirely useless. He can still overshadow people in the living world and the US is still a capitalist hellscape so his money is good there. But without any sort of end goal it loses its appeal. Eventually, he’ll come crawling back to Amity. 

------

Tags:

@seraphinedemort @bookreaderman @ronocnogard19 @apointlessbox @d4ydr34min9 @fylylowo @takingspagetts @vythika96 @catmaraudersfan @coruscateselene @gin2212 @running-batty @amercurio @victoria-has-no-secret @clarinetily @imsociallyanxiousgetoverit @ironicvixen @toomanyartsuppliesnotenoughtime @thewondersoflebanon @booklover4177 @malice-of-the-sunrise @thegatorsgoose @theamazingfox @xye-chan @farmercale @dontfightmecauseillcry @alcorbearson

[chobani-flip]

rec list of awesome bucktommy fics #1 of ∞

ok. so here's some fics ive read that i loved and i need everyone to read and love as well. more such lists to follow over the summer

Like a Music That's Been Transposed by @faillen

“Hey there, stunner,” Tommy murmured against his mouth once they’d pulled away. “Stunner?” Evan asked, smile bunching up his cheeks. “That’s a new one.” “Mhmm,” Tommy said, pressing a kiss to one of those lovely red cheeks. “You like it?” Evan ducked his head, “Yeah, that one’s uh. That’s pretty good.” His eyes cut back to Tommy and his mouth twisted into a thoughtful moue. “I don’t really have any for you.” “Eh,” Tommy said. “I’m not a big endearment guy.”

Or: Tommy grows into his name.

it is so good, you guys. such an excellent tommy character study.

The Machinery of the Body by @firehose118

Tommy takes one look at the wonderstruck expression on Evan's face after Tommy kisses him that first time and he knows he wants to take Evan apart under his hands like an engine and make him purr. He wants to slowly and carefully clean every rusty bolt Evan never knew he had and put him back together better than he found him.

it is horny and tender. they just care about one another so much 😭😭😭

the skin that binds you by @tiltingheartand

He must make a noise of some kind, because a second later he feels a hand very carefully combing through his curls. Too carefully, actually, although it does feel kind of amazing anyway. “Feeling okay, baby?” Well, good news: at least hearing Tommy’s voice doesn’t make anything worse. “Not really,” he manages, once he unsticks his lips from each other, refusing to move from where he’s got half his face pressed into Tommy’s neck. “Feel like death.” “That’s not as funny as you think it is,” Tommy says, but he’s hugging Buck around the shoulders while he says it. (Buck wakes up with a migraine. Tommy takes care of him.)

they are so good for each other and to each other 😭😭😭

Couched In Metaphor by @alchemistc

BUCK AND TOMMY GO COUCH SHOPPING! THERE'S ALSO EDDIE AND HE IS A GOOD FRIEND! the couch is a metaphor but it's also just a couch and buck and tommy are written so excellently here. i ADORE the way this author sees them and writes them

Your Midnights by Summerunderthesea

He still hadn’t been able to find his footing with Tommy. To find his cool, or to even be able to fake it so that he at least came across as somewhat smooth. At least a bit less of an idiot. So idiodic, non-cool, non-smooth Buck replied with an ‘uhh’. Then, eventually, ‘Yeah. A bit.’ --- A collection of midnights that Buck and Tommy spend together.

a progression of buck and tommy's relationship. so niiiiice.

while you arranged flowers by @newtkelly

Tommy’s eyes catch his and Buck is taken aback by the state of them, blown so black and glassy. He always looks so tongue-in-cheek, like he’s in on some joke and waiting for everyone else to catch on. He doesn’t look like that right now, though. Tommy’s composure is waning—the guy who takes on the world with a million dollar smile and a statuesque cleft chin and flies choppers to Vegas on a whim and into Cat 5 hurricanes to help old friends and kisses clarity into men who thought they were finished figuring themselves out, that guy is just as much a slave to his desire as any mortal man, and Buck is winded by the fact that he’s played any part in that. — Buck’s got a wedding date, but as far as today goes, he’s also got a regular one.

you might have seen the post where i shrieked about another fic of newtkelly, well read this one too. the way they write is so thoughtful and skilled???? shoo, go read!

little by little by @mediawhorefics

a madney wedding coda. it is brilliant. it is beautiful. AND ALSO, the author has an excellent taste in user names. GO READ MEDIA WHORE'S FICS! i shout in the marketplace and i am well heard by all.

Come Fly The Friendly Skies by @rcmclachlan

have you tried to imagine how the initial introductions between buck and tommy during the choppernapping went? no? yes? well, i guarantee you that this brilliant HILARIOUS piece of writing is going to surpass your greatest expectations.

allow me to quote one of my favourite lines at you: "We know you have many options when choosing airlines, so thank you for choosing Kinard Air. Let's begin the boarding process."

yeah, i know if tommy was any cooler of a cucumber that salad would be frozen! isn't it wonderful?!

im also gonna need you to read

@middyblue 's AU where buck works as a Scientist alongside karen and meets tommy when the lab blows up.

THIS IS THE SERIES HERE!!!! THERE ARE TWO FICS (SO FAR) WHOLE TWO FICS!!!!!!! AND IT IS BRILLIANT AND I LOVE IT!!!

Buck's clipboardy-ness is directed towards science! tommy is absolutely turnouts over helmet into him!!!!

ALSO! ALSO!

these are the fics that i keep seeing on rec lists (but that's because they're really fucking good and if you haven't read them yet, do yourself the favour of getting right on that.)

my heart's an autoclave. by @bucktheally

an outlier that should not be counted by @dadvans

prescribed burn by @wakeupnew

you know what actually? all of the authors above? (and any others i mention in the future?) go do the following:

click on subscribe ON THE AUTHOR'S PROFILE

[angelicdanvers]

BREATHE DEEPER | four.

a charlie bushnell x fem!reader social media fic.

y/n

liked by iamcharliebushnell, levizmiller, dior.n.goodjohn, and others

y/n — australia’s my new fav country

tagged | levizmiller

levizmiller i’m challenging you to another round of pool tonight ↳ y/n bet

iamcharliebushnell when’d you go to australia? 😭 ↳ y/n when u didn’t show up for acai bowls >:( ↳ iamcharliebushnell im sowwy ↳ y/n DONT YOU DARE ↳ iamcharliebushnell okok sorry but thought you'd be in london ↳ y/n soon, yeah :')

levizmiller y/n im gonna poke you ↳ y/n okayy hi ↳ levizmiller let’s get boba ↳ y/n YES

dior.n.goodjohn I MISS U COME BACK TO ME ↳ y/n once my australian chronicles are over i promise i will <3 ↳ dior.n.goodjohn WOOOO

walker.scobell youre pretty! ↳ y/n thanks lil dude!

i.am.andrewalvarez AUSSIEEE ↳ y/n THE SWEET ESCAPE FR

aryansimhadri DID YOU SEE KANGAROOS ↳ y/n NO NOT YET THOUGH I HOPE I DO

dailymail Y/n and Levi? ;)

user omg bf reveal happening??

user2 ive never held my breath this much

“GALILEO’S GALS” — 5 notifications!

chanel’s enemy Y/N

lee lee Y/N

dr dre why am i in this gc

chanel’s enemy because u are

lee lee we’re getting off topic Y/NNN CMERE

↳ hiiiii?

chanel’s enemy HIIII HRU ILY

↳ ILY TOO BAE IM GOOD WBU

chanel’s enemy WE GOOD WE HAVE SOME ?’s THO

↳ oh?

lee lee ARE YOU AND LEVI DATING

dr dre OHH THIS MAKES SENSE YEAH ARE YOU??

↳ nooooo

chanel’s enemy that’s a very interesting no

↳ we’re not but idk

chanel’s enemy what

lee lee girl wdym

↳ we’re not dating but i think he likes me? idk

dr dre do you like him back though???

↳ eh he’s very sweet but i’ve always seen him as a best friend, i don’t think we could be more

lee lee do you want to be more??

↳ i mean, i’d give him a chance if he asked? but it’s not anything i’m particularly into or wanting

chanel’s enemy okay that helps

↳ uhhh why

dr dre well if my sleepy ass remembers correctly, everyone and their mother are wondering if you’re dating

↳ nah that aint possible

lee lee it is, stupid dailymail picked up on it first 💀

↳ my manager’s asleep, no wonder she hasn’t updated me lol oh well idgaf they can think what they want

chanel’s enemy but even walker and charlie are 😭

↳ they’re gonna forget it in t-minus four secs it’s fine

dr dre whatever you say, ma’am but are you sure that ‘cryptic’ caption won’t cause any issues??

↳ uhh andrew you’re scaring me

dr dre what if someone likes you? like like-likes you and knows you and gets hella jealous or doubtful? and not saying charlie does but he was raving about how he might finally get to hang out with you, ONE ON ONE. what if he thinks he can't because he thinks you two are dating?

↳ bro first off ik you don’t like me, neither does aryan and i know its DEFINITELY not walker

lee lee girl he had a celeb crush on you a few years ago dont tell him i told u that

chanel’s enemy LMFAOOOO but no andrew has a point how come you didn’t mention charlie? 🤨

dr dre yeah i was just aboutta say 🤨 especially after my little analysis?

↳ SECONDLY, guys, charlie doesn’t. not one bit and that’s obvious, like he isn’t even in considerations. i understand what he may feel but he has nothing to worry about. he knows i won't ditch him or anything lol (right?) but if anything the only person that’d be a little confused or whatnot is william

chanel’s enemy WHAT?? AS IN WILLIAM FRANKLYN MILLER??

lee lee huh 😃

↳ we dated for a month back when we were 15 or so and realized we were way better off as friends

lee lee why ?

↳ idk i think i was just jealous of lily 😭 but anyways we’ve been just friends since and i’m completely happy with that. i don't see him romantically anymore, yeah he’s hot but like nah. but yeah if he was confused, it's probably because i was best friends with levi when we dated too and might question if he was the cause of our split?? AGAIN THATS IF HE OVERTHINKS IT

dr dre i feel like i’m reading an autobiographical analysis you definitely are fond towards “millers”

↳ ur welcome <333 and NO i am not

chanel’s enemy okok so we got several people who’d be jealous

↳ WHAT WDYM SEVERAL I ONLY LISTED ONE

lee lee ain’t no way you’re ignoring charlie

↳ DUDES I REALLY DONT THINK HE LIKES ME

dr dre but there could be a possibility? just don’t rule him out

↳ bro he doesn't like me 😭 but yeah trust me everything’s gonna be okay again i dont like anyone and no one likes me, and we'll make sure it's obvious i'm single in case anyone does though that may take a while... ANYWAYS

lee lee suuuuure you should hang out with charlie btw

↳ idk why but im scared to 😭

lee lee but you need to he misses you a lot yk

↳ doesn’t change the fact that im SCARED

lee lee WHY WOULD YOU BE SCARED ITS JUST CHARLIE

↳ IDK I JUST DONT WANNA SEEM STUPID OR UNATTRACTIVE AND SHIT

lee lee HE FLIRTS WITH YOU ALL THE TIME AND MESSES UP JUST AS MUCH, YOURE NOT THE EMBARRASSING ONE HERE

↳ DUDE I KNOW I CAN BE AND I DONT WANNA DRIVE HIM AWAY

dr dre sure you and levi hang out and are sweet and shit but BRO the teeth rotting sugar is you and charlie in your damn COMMENTS

↳ ITS NOT THAT BAD, IS IT?? 😭 GOD I HOPE CHARLIE DOESNT THINK OF ME ANY DIFFERENTLY

chanel’s enemy i think u like charlie, miss girl

↳ NO

dr dre nah, they’d be cute together, even charlie said so himself

chanel’s enemy you dumbass

dr dre uhhh ANYWAYS said too much im gonna sleep again love youse

lee lee BRO yeah night babes <3

chanel’s enemy LOVE U BAE GN

↳ what the duck STUPID AUTOCORRECT WHAT THE FUCK AINT NO WAY YALL JUST DIPPED fine ily guys too </3 BUT DONT THINK IM LETTING THAT GO EASILY ugh what do you guys mean 😭 aint no way thats true OKOK YK WHAT BYE!! FOR REAL THIS TIME

— taglist.

@shokocoded @istillremberthefirstfallofsnow @surftrips @svtsimp22 @gcidrvsh @idontevencare1223 @thames-fig @captainshischier @reggieslifeboat @multifandom-loser @wheelerslover @mermaid-mqtel @randomnpc456 @kaithoughs @isab3lita @mariposa555 @sunshinessky @myr-cheri @thedeadlynights @ella33 @c1nn4mng1rl @poppysrin @breadbrobin @lucy-the-ant @jules-loves-lukecastellan @taloulalila @tom-pls-fuck-me @mia-luvs @iknowyoureabigfan @rinisfruity14 @chasebeth @auttumnsayshi @prettygirlformula @alwayswndr @balletfilmss @kestisvrse @1forthemoney2forthekish @eissaaaa @emelia07 @toffytaste @soulaires @bearwon @happy-mushrooms @simrah1012 @blimp-blimp @obxstiles @yuminako @hopexcroc @mackycat11 @knowugetdejavu @0puddleofgender0

thank you so much for all your love and support, it really means the world to me. y/n's beginning to find out certain things, wonder where things will go from here 🤔

as always, i will continue updating the taglist :)

i love you and am so proud of you, stay safe and drink water <3

[matcha-milkies]

LIKE AN OLEANDER

Summary: Bill Cipher needs a footstool and a thoroughly Stockholmed Ford is happy to oblige.

Relationships: Bill Cipher & Ford Pines, Pyronica is there too

Content Warnings: Abuse, Master/Pet, Psychological Torture/Horror/Trauma, Stockholm Syndrome, Victim Blaming, Sensory Deprivation

Tags: Triangle Bill, Canon Divergence - Weirdmageddon, Bill Cipher Wins, Collars, Chains, Whump, Hurt No Comfort, Bill Cipher is a Jerk

Word Count: 1,306

Link to AO3: Here

A/N: Based on @jellyskink’s immaculate Domesticated Ford AU, in which Bill mentally breaks Ford in the 1980s and brainwashes him into an obedient and fawning pet. Weirdmageddon started early, and over time the weirdness bubble surrounding Gravity Falls naturally expanded to contain both California and Oregon. If you want to learn more, there’s a lot more tidbits on their blog, though fair warning it’s a pretty dark and sad AU.

Thank you, jellyskink, for giving me the green light to write a fic for this!

I saw someone say this au is “all pain, no sex” which is really at the heart of what I look for in fics, but is so painstakingly absent in most fandoms, so this is a godsend •⩊•

If you haven’t listened to “Oleander” by Mother Mother what are you even doing with your life /lh

Bill Cipher is in a particularly good mood today. He and Pyronica probably broke a record for largest bonfire in California, even counting all their previous antics over the years. Not the dream demon’s most creative endeavor by a long shot, but hey, sometimes you just gotta start a blazing inferno to let off some steam. Nothing wrong with a bit of simple, straightforward arson now and then.

It’s only when he returns to the Fearamid, practically glowing, buzzing and high off the screams of the innocent, that he remembers the state he left Sixer in.

The man is in a kneeling position, collared by the neck. His hair, fluffy and disheveled, feathers down to around his shoulders, brushing against the cruel blue metal. His twelve fingers twitch and grasp at nothing, futilely, as though groping for purchase on a rugged cliffside. His purple sweater is rumpled in places, like he had pulled and grabbed at that too, to no evident avail. He’s whimpering to himself, words that are at first indiscernible as Bill enters the massive chamber.

The scientist is tethered to a ring near the base of the Throne of Frozen Human Agony, staring vacantly into the middle space, unseeing. It’s not his fault. Bill severed all input from his optic nerves, so he literally can’t see. Or hear. Or feel. Yeah, he cut off those nerves too. It was supposed to be a punishment that lasted a few hours. And then Bill had left and gotten carried away with his fun, and well, it had been an entire day.

Whoops.

Make no mistake, he doesn’t feel bad about it. If anything, it’s kind of funny, like forgetting to feed your dog! Wait. Humans don’t find that funny. Well, who can expect them to understand the emotions of an all-powerful chaos god? He draws closer, and the previously indiscernible words sharpen into clarity.

“I love you, my muse. I love you.”

Repeated ad nauseam to the uncaring void.

“Aww,” Bill clasps his hands together and brings them closer to his eye. “He’s so pathetic!” Pyronica, who came in with him, nods her agreement and laughs along. This must be what it’s like to catch your puppy mid-dream, its little tongue lolling and leg kicking at nothing.

He can’t remember whether he instructed his pet to repeat those words or not. Honestly, it’s anyone’s guess. Bill’s will and Ford’s are so inextricable at this point that Ford often does things without needing to be told. Of course, they’re not entirely on the same wavelength, or else punishment wouldn’t be required in the first place.

“Eh, remind me to snap him out of it in another half an hour,” Bill says, settling himself on the throne. With a wave of an arm he summons a martini glass. “I’m gonna have myself a drink.”

“Sure thing, boss.” He summons a glass for her too, and hipshot, she accepts. “Hey, you think we should’ve put the fire out before we left?”

They both share a hearty chuckle over that. “Would be a shame if it all burned down!” Bill sighs as the laughter dies down. “Nah, but seriously. California will still be there for us to play with tomorrow. And if it isn’t, we can always just rebuild it! In my image! Ha!”

“Yeah. Technically the fires are my image though.”

“Touché!”

They talk for a while, maybe 20 minutes or so in this fashion, casually sipping time punch and discussing unnatural disasters like they’re music festivals. Ford goes completely untouched and unnoticed, until suddenly Bill returns his attention to the human, and a light bulb goes off next to his hat.

“Wait. Do you wanna see something hysterical? I have the best idea.”

Every sensation returns to Ford at once in a flood of color, touch and sound. Sometimes, when Bill is feeling merciful, he eases him back into it, but his merciful moods are few and far between. More commonly, he likes to toss the scientist in the deep end and watch him flounder, tears quickly beading at the corners of Ford’s eyes and spilling fatly over his cheeks. His body convulses in a singular, broken sob, and before he can finish another apologetic, “I love you,” Bill hits him with a hard command.

“Stanford! I need a footstool!” The demon extends his legs and wiggles his feet a little. He whistles as though beckoning a dog. “Come ‘ere!”

Despite his disorientation, Ford rushes to obey, lurching in the direction of Bill’s voice and falling flat on his face. Shakenly, he picks himself off the ground, letting loose a singular groan.

“I’m still waiting!” Bill sings, swinging his legs a little for effect. Pyronica snickers. Ford tries again, following the sound of his muse’s voice, although he is quickly dismayed to find that he’s already reached the end of his chain. He falls just short of Bill’s feet, and no matter how he chokes himself, no matter how hard he tugs at the collar or the chain attached, he can’t go any further than this. His distress is evident in the way he keens.

“What are you doing?” Bill demands, rolling his eye. “All I asked for was a simple footstool and you can’t even do that? Bad! Bad dog!” Ford sobs.

“I-I’m sorry, my muse!” he rasps, the cold metal of the collar pressing in on his windpipe as he strains to obey. “I’m so sorry!”

Pyronica is practically in stitches at this point, and Bill is a showman, a class clown ever chasing the next laugh. “Are you really though?” His eye wanes to an amused crescent. “Do you even love me, if you can’t even follow a command as simple as this?”

“Yes!” Ford insists with a cry. “Yes, my muse, I love you! I’m sorry that I’m so useless… Please, please forgive me…”

“Why should I? Do you think you deserve forgiveness?”

“N- No,” Ford sniffs, “but—”

“Alright, alright. Since I’m in such a good mood, I’ll give you a hand.” Bill waves his hand in a circle and the chain elongates, allowing just enough slack for Ford to crawl under his waiting feet. Bill settles them heavily on top of Ford’s back and sighs. “Ahh, that’s better.” The man shakes under the weight.

“Thank you, my muse,” he says. Normally, he would be a lot happier about serving Bill like this, but he’s clearly still torn up over his recent punishment and failures. “Thank you so much.”

“Don’t mention it, kid!” Bill rests his hands behind his ‘head,’ or rather, the tip of his topmost vertex. “Maybe after this, if you’re good, you can have a treat.”

“R- Really? Oh, thank you so much, my muse. I promise I’ll be good.” His voice is still wavery from the earlier-shed tears, but his cheer seems to be returning. It’s not difficult to keep the man happy when he’s so thoroughly and hopelessly smitten with his muse. Bill could have Pyronica drop-kick Ford off the top of the Fearamid right now and when he reached the bottom he would find a way to smile and thank Bill, no matter how many broken pieces he was in.

“Yeah. Now shut up while I get some reading in. Hasn’t anyone ever told you footstools don’t talk? Sheesh.” With a sigh, Bill summons an extradimensional magazine and floats it in front of his eye, every so often flipping through the pages. Pyronica says she’s off to see what Teeth and Keyhole are up to, and Bill acknowledges her departure with a little grunt and wave. Ford stifles a whimper. His back has already been giving him issues lately, and this definitely isn’t helping matters, but he soldiers through it for his muse. He’s determined not to mess up again. He’s determined to be a good footstool.

A/N: This is my first time writing from Bill’s perspective! I don’t usually write him this cruel, so it was a fun change of pace to lean full force into that side of him. Thanks again, jellyskink, I hope you liked this little installment!

[2knightt]

IM SORRY, I KNOW U GOT A REQUEST ON THIS SO MUCH ALREADY BUT…

Your motherly!reader fics are so good 😭! can you pleasee do another? platonic with the gang!! no romance 🥰 thank youu ❤️❤️❤️ your work is amazing btw!

the gang x motherly!reader

!warnings!

1.i did headcanons i hope thats okay😭

2.fem!reader

3.swearing and a small mention of violence.

Johnny Cade ;

like i’ve said before in other fics, he loves you so much.

honestly, you might be one of his favourite people!

when he walks down the street and he just so happens to see a cute flower, he picks it and gives it to you!

when he first met you, he refused to see you when he was injured in anyway. he thought you’d think he was weak and never see him again.

but as time went on, and you showed that you genuinely cared for him, he showed more of his vulnerable side.

johnny likes it when you patch him up now!

he thinks it’s calming, relaxing, and a, ‘nice change of things rather than lettin’ mother nature cure it.’

when he unknowingly/accidentally vents to you about his home life, he does get embarrassed.

he didn’t want you knowing, but when you hugged him real tight and told him sweet nothings?? he teared up ngl.

johnny wishes you could’ve been his mom.

when or if you have kids, johnny wishes they don’t take the, ‘how was your day?’ and the, ‘how’s school going?’ for granted.

because to johnny cade, that would be his perfect fairytale.

having someone as sweet as you to turn his life around, makes him excited to see tomorrow.

Dallas Winston ;

another bitch with mommy issues who is glad to have you.

mrs.curtis was definitely the mother he never had but always wanted and when she died, he was devastated.

but when you came along and started being that mother he missed??? he was both annoyed and over the moon.

he didn’t like that every time you bailed him out of jail, he got an ear full. however, he did like to know verbally that someone cared about him

he doesn’t show you any sort of affection, but he will tell you how he feels when drunk.

“thank you, so much y/n. i-i don’t know where i’d be without you.”

for mothers day, he doesn’t do anything special.

BUT—you didn’t hear this from me, before the clock hits 12, expect to hear like a cute little knock at your door, and open it to see a single flower on the ground with a pack of cigarettes.

dally ran off before you or anyone else could see him.

even though he didn’t sign his name, you knew it was from him. so, next time you see him, say thank you.

Ponyboy Curtis ;

he’s like a toddler around you???

ponyboy definitely pretends to be like, your own bodyguard.

but really, who’s scared of ponyboy?

he tries though!

when he watches a movie and some character reminds him of you, expect that to be the first thing he tells you.

“ya know, when i went to the drive in, you really reminded of this one character.”

“oh? why’s that?”

“well because-“

and now you have to sit there and listen to him.

he’ll draw for you so much :(.

if you tell him your favourite flower, he WILL give you a drawing of it the next day. he’ll stay up all night if he has too!

Sodapop Curtis ;

he’s literally your #2 fan. first place goes to johnny.

he’s your biggest hypeman??? omg???

“gee, y/n! you’re lookin’ real fancy!! gonna get all the guys, eh?”

when ponyboy and darry argue and he just can’t take it anymore, he calls you and asks to come over.

and of course, you say yes everytime.

so please, PLEASE, just let him cry into your arms!!!!

when he’s done, he’ll try to go home but i’m begging you to tell him he’s welcomed to stay the night.

and if he does stay? ponyboy will be at your doorstep too.

he’ll share his famous chocolate cake with you!! he’ll make sure steve doesn’t touch it.

“STEVE THAT WAS FOR Y/N! ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!”

“OH SHIT SHIT SHIT! WE MAKE MAKE ONE TOGETHER! THE MORE PEOPLE THE FASTER THE CAKE WILL BAKE RIGHT?!”

“DO I LOOK LIKE A SCIENTIST??”

Darry Curtis ;

he is so thankful for you i legit can’t stress that enough.

you keep the gang in check, you keep ponyboy happy, and you help him around the house. what more could he ask for?

you legit force darry to relax while you look after the gang to make sure nothing bad happens.

“we’ll be fine, darry. go to bed, your dark circles are gettin’ darker by the minute.”

“yeah super-man! we’ll be fine with y/n!”

“yeah!!”

“fine, but if she wakes me up to tell me about any of you, so god help me.”

if you welcome him home with a newspaper and his favourite cup of coffee after a long day at work, he might ask you to move in.

Steve Randle ;

steve pretends that he doesn’t like you that much.

but he really does. like, the second he hears some soc threaten or insult you? he’s after them.

shit, he might be chasin’ after them in two-bits car while two-bit yells at the person.

he will legit go to war for you if you asked him nicely.

he will rant to you about cars if you let him😭.

he’ll rant to you about anything, honestly.

“and then the old bastard asked for a refund! the ‘no refunds’ sign was right on the door! how could that old bat not see it?!”

“steve! don’t call people that, but yes, it was very rude of that man to do that too you.”

“RIGHT?!”

Two-bit Matthews ;

he forces you to relax and watch mickey mouse with him.

he says it’s for your own good but when really, he just wants to spend time with you without the gang interrupting.

“guys! you’re stressing her out with all your STUPID questions! c’mon, y/n, mickey mouse is calling our names. can’t you hear it?”

“or maybe its the booze you had at 10AM.”

“i will sock you in your fucking throat steve.”

he plays with your hair…he finds it fun!

please tell him how to do some styles so he can go home and impress his little sister :(.

he offers you beer every once and awhile just so he can say he got you to loosen up.

“so y/n…you want some?”

“oh! no thank you, two. you know i don’t drink.”

he calls you mom in a joking way, ya dig?

“momm! steve called me a dumbass!”

“steve, be nice! apologize.”

“what the fuck?!”

author notes ;

1. i like totally rushed near the end LMFAO.

2. i never thought you bitches would eat motherly!reader up like this??

3.are you guys okay??

4.THANK U SWEETHEART OMFG??

5.i think theres no romance??

may 15th, 2023. 6:39PM

[lowkeyremi]

HI! I just wanna say your fics make me happy and I really enjoy reading them!! But what I’m requesting is a Yuji x reader where a short reader becomes self conscious after finding out he said he likes tall girls, she doesn’t bring it up immediately but he can tell something is wrong. (This is kind of stupid but I thought it was cute lmao) i imagine it would be a kind of angst to comfort type of thing :) I would prefer a female reader but anything is fine! 💗

YOUR TYPE yuji itadori x (short) fem!reader

Remi's note: It's not stupid, hon! I'm 5'3" lololol so I can relate in a way :3 Yuji does not know what he's missing out on !!

content: fluff, reader is a little bit insecure, i kinda followed the timeline but it's no where near canon lol

When you transferred to Jujutsu High a certain pink haired student immediately caught your attention. In fact, you believe that his presence demands everyone's attention because of how much of a sunshine boy he is. He's tall, cute, kind, and a little bit naive.

Essentially he's most of what you look for in a guy but you aren't too sure you're what he looks for in a girl. Not after hearing him discuss his type with Todo. "I like a girl who's tall with a big butt, like Jennifer Lawrence!" And while you had the whole big butt thing down (sorry if you don't i'm self indulging here sigh), you don't have the height he mentions.

At first you were okay that.. you can still be his type right? You don't have to be tall. You brought the subject up with Megumi and Nobara one day while the three of you were eating lunch, Yuji was away on a mission. "Do you guys think I might still have a chance with Yuji? I know I'm not tall but..." you trail on trying to think of something to say.

Megumi wants no part in this conversation but gives you his honest answer anyway, "Eh, probably not. You two never really talk to each other. He's honestly kinda awkward around you." A frown breaches your beautiful face and you begin to pick at your food. Nobara thinks differently of the situation.

"Ah, don't listen to dumb old Fushiguro. He doesn't have a girlfriend so he can't give anyone advice. I think you two would look super cute together! If you just talk to him I'm sure you could figure out what's on his mind." Nobara's advice sounds more charming but you also take Megumi's into consideration. Truth be told, you and Yuji don't talk much and he's always nervously laughing around you.

Yuji eventually returns from his mission exhausted. He still comes by to greet everyone though which makes you smile. "Um.. Itadori?" He pauses in his steps to turn around and give you his attention with a weary smile. "Mhm?"

"Do you think I could uh- talk to you sometime tomorrow? Just the two of us?" You gaze at anything in the common room besides him. A sudden wave of nervousness rolls through your gut.

"Um. Yeah, of course! I'm going to head to bed now, goodnight everyone!!" Yuji scurries out of the common room. Was that good? Was it bad? You couldn't get a clear read on him and now you're panicking.

You're able to remain calm though because Panda and Inumaki give you a thumbs up. Nobara smiles at you and whispers, "you got this girl!"

As you were preparing for bed, you had a sudden hope that a black hole would just come and swallow you up before dawn peaks. Worry clouded your ability to rest properly so the night consisted of a lot of tossing and turning. When the sun had barely even peaked through the window you decided to start your day.

Your phone reads 6:53 am. Usually you'd begin your day at around 7:30 but sleep was not an option. Usually rejection didn't phase you much, but you were no longer in a huge school where you could likely avoid a guy who rejected you. Jujutsu High has a total of ten students including you. It would be hard to hide yourself from Yuji after facing rejection.

Once you were properly dressed and had clean teeth you left your dorm room to sit outside and admire the sunrise. You weren't sure how long you had been sitting out there but quiet footsteps gather your attention. The one boy who you were not ready to face yet was standing right behind you, his signature smile gracing his face.

"Mind if I join you for whatever you wanna talk to me about?" You want to tell him no or that you aren't ready yet but you inhale slowly and exhale deeply to rid those negative thoughts from your brain.

You pat the ground next to you motioning for him to join you, "Yeah, be my guest."

He sits down next to you and you sit there trying to think of what you'll say. The silence is awkward and the tension is definitely high. "So I hear you like tall girls." Terrible start. If he rejects you, you won't be surprised.

"Heh, yeah.." You meet those chocolate eyes of his. They hold confusion and the urge to know what you are trying to say.

"Do you.." Pause. How should you go about this? "Do you think that even though I'm not tall I'd still have a chance?" Silence follows your question as Yuji soaks in what you've just said.

You. Like. Him? He's surprised to say the least. Yuji had thought it was the other way around, he didn't believe he had a chance with someone like you. Sure you aren't his usual type but he's fallen for your beauty and your personality all the same.

The silence creates a tight feeling in your chest. He must be trying to find a way to let you down gently right?

"I mean it's totally okay if you don't! I just.. never mind. I think I'll go now." He grabs your wrist before you can try to leave and you look into his eyes wondering what he's thinking.

"You do! Sure you're not that tall but you're cute and funny. I thought I didn't have a chance with you. Oh my gosh a girl just asked me out!!" Relief pours over you almost instantly. So you've been overthinking things.

"You've liked me? For how long?!" He shrugs trying to remember.

"Oh yeah! When Sensei sent you, me, and Fushiguro on a mission together. You were so badass when you exorcised that curse. I was thinking 'damn she's hot as hell'!!!"

A giggle escapes your throat at Yuji's dramatics. He's so sweet and confident and knows what he wants. The fact that he wants you makes your heart swell.

[tsuutarr]

Pairing: Hop x GN! reader

Word count: 8.5K

Content: fluff, growing up, a Hop character study, kind of a fix it fic (basically I feel bad for constantly beating Hop in the game and had to write this LOL)

Summary: From a young age, Hop knew that he wanted to be the next Champion, just like his older brother. But as he goes on his journey, he's not sure what he really wants. Despite all that, though, he's grateful you're by his side.

From a young age, Hop was introduced to a path paved of gold, lying in front of him with a polished glimmer. His older brother was the Champion of Galar! It was only right that Hop would take on that mantle, too. In fact, Hop knew he’d be even greater than his brother– he’d make sure of it. After all, that was what everyone expected of him, right?

When asked what he wanted to be when he was older, Hop confidently proclaimed that he’d be the next Champion. His statement wasn’t met with scorn because people were aware of who his brother was. Since his brother was the Champion, Hop would obviously be an excellent trainer, too. That was what everyone said, so it had to be true, right?

“So, what do you want to be when you’re older?” Hop asked you as you made flower crowns. You were  his new neighbor that moved to Postwick about a year or two ago, but with how often you played with each other, Hop felt like he has known you for years and years.

“I dunno. I think I’d like to go on a journey, though. See the world, you know?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Hop responded, watching as the wind tousled your hair. “If you wanna go on a journey, maybe you should go on a Pokémon journey! A rival would be good for me, just like Sonia and Lee.”

You blinked at him curiously. “Sonia and Lee?”

“Yeah, I guess you haven’t met them yet, huh? Lee’s – or Leon, I guess – my older brother and Sonia’s his childhood friend.”

“Wow, they are like us, then,” you laughed, placing a flower crown on Hop’s Wooloo. Seeing Wooloo bleat at you made Hop’s heart warm. There was a sense of peace whenever he was with you. Unlike the rest of Galar, you didn’t place much stock in him being the Champion’s brother. You just saw him as Hop.

Hop’s eyebrows furrowed.

When did being known as Leon’s brother bother him? He was proud to be Leon’s little brother! The Champion’s brother! But… maybe it did sting a little when that was what he was referred to as constantly. Sometimes, he felt like he didn’t have an identity outside of his brother–

“Hop?” you called, making Hop turn to you in surprise. Wooloo bleated at you, ordering you to continue brushing its fur. You laughed, but obliged anyway. “You looked lost in thought. What’s on your mind?”

“I got that Wooloo from Lee,” Hop responded, making you hum in acknowledgement.

“Wow, how lucky!”

“Yeah, lucky.” Hop knew that he was lucky. Not a lot of people had a brother like him, he knew that. But sometimes he wondered if he’d be able to reach the throne his brother sat on and live up to his brother's name. Everyone said Hop would be good, just like his brother. So he had to be. He had to–

“Hop?” you called out again, and this time, when Hop snapped out of his thoughts, he came face to face with yours, looking at him with concern.

He gulped. “Yeah, mate?”

Gently, you placed a hand on his forehead, checking his temperature. “You’re no warmer than you should be…”

“I’m fine,” he huffed, though he didn’t make any moves to remove your hand from his forehead. “I was just… thinking.”

“Be careful there,” you teased. “Don’t want to blow a fuse, eh?”

“Oi, stop that,” he grumbled without any bite. “...Are you leaving today?”

“Ah, yeah,” you nodded, finally pulling your hand away from his forehead. He kind of missed it.

“Shame, you could’ve met Lee.”

“Oh, he’s coming back today?”

“Well,” Hop huffed out a laugh. “If he doesn’t get lost, then yeah.”

“Aw, that’s a shame. I wanted to meet him.” You scratched behind Wooloo’s ear with a pout on your lips. “Send him my regards?”

“Of course I will,” Hop agreed. “And you’ll see him eventually.”

“Eventually,” you nodded, before standing up at your name being called by your mother. “Well, that's my cue.”

“See you. Have a good spring break!”

“You too, Hop!”

He didn’t know why, but he kind of wished you could’ve stayed for the spring break.

--

Hop’s meals with his family were always boisterous, even when his older brother wasn’t there. His family would always turn on the TV to watch Leon’s matches. Hop always loved watching Leon’s matches, but having his brother there, right beside him, was even better.

“Leon, your match was fantastic!” Hop’s mother beamed, clasping her hands together in glee. “You’re such a talented trainer.”

“Charizard and the rest of my team are the ones that deserve all the praise,” Leon said, modestly, eyeing his Pokémon lingering outside his house. His house was too small to fit his large Pokémon inside – sometimes, he envied how small Sonia’s Yamper was!

“One day I’ll have a team as awesome as yours!” Hop grinned, his Wooloo bleating next to him. “Watch out, Lee!”

Leon laughed loudly at his little brother’s eagerness. “You don’t understand how excited I am for that, Hop. I can’t wait to battle you!”

“I’m sure you’ll be as good as Lee,” Hop’s mom agreed. “After all, Leon’s already done it himself, so he can help you.”

There was a weird pang of bitterness that stung Hop at the insinuation that he couldn’t be a brilliant Pokémon trainer by himself, but he crushed it down. “I wanna earn my place,” Hop said, patting Wooloo’s head. “I’ll get to the top where Lee is without his help. That way, we can truly be equals!”

“There’s nothing wrong about asking for help, Hop,” Leon said, gently. “And besides, you don’t want the Pokémon I’ve been reserving for you?”

Hop’s eyes grew wide as Wooloo bleated in protest.

“I’m not trying to get rid of you, Wooloo!” Leon laughed, tossing the sheep Pokémon a piece of lettuce. “Just, when it’s time for you to take on the Gym Challenge, I’ve got a Pokémon for you.”

“Wow, thanks, Lee!” Hop said, eyes wide with excitement, “But I can't do the Gym Challenge for another few years.”

“Hah, I know,” Leon responded with a laugh. “It’ll come soon enough.”

Anticipation thrummed through Hop’s veins. It couldn’t come fast enough.

--

Now, four years later, at age sixteen, he’s sitting in a train that is leaving Postwick. It all still feels so surreal to him. He has waited for this moment – the moment he’d get to go on his own Pokémon journey – for years. Changes seem to be happening so quickly, and despite his confident demeanor, he’s still nervous. But when he sees you, he feels better, like there’s still something consistent in his life. His eyes linger away from the window, instead opting to look at you. You sit in front of him, idly watching the scenery pass by.

“Exciting, isn’t it?” you ask, suddenly turning to him. It makes him jolt in surprise, before his face eases into a grin.

“Exciting,” he agrees, feeling nervous at how your knees brush against each other. “You know, I wonder what that Pokémon was – the one we saw at Slumbering Weald.”

You hum thoughtfully, your fingers tapping against the wooden table between you two. “Whatever it is, it must be powerful. I’m glad you were there with me.”

“I couldn’t do anything, though,” Hop says, but you only shrug in response.

“Neither could I. But your presence was good enough to keep me grounded.”

“Heh.” Talking to you always eases Hop’s nerves. He wonders if you’re aware of that, but decides you probably aren’t as you shove a cookie in your mouth.

“Want one?” you offer, making Hop nod.

“Thanks, mate.”

You nod, eyes going back to the scenery outside. Hop’s eyes stay on you, though, because he wants to burn you into his memory. After all, he won’t be able to see you in a while and you’re kinda like… his good luck charm. He thinks he’ll be able to do better when he thinks of you.

--

With all the excitement thrumming in his veins, the events prior to arriving at Budew Drop Inn feels like a blur. Still, you both managed to sign up for the Gym Challenge, so he thinks of that as a win. He’s ready to kick back and relax, but when he sees Sonia staring at the statue in Budew Drop Inn, Hop is surprised. 

 As Sonia explains her reason for being here, Hop can’t help but be intrigued. He’s still set on being Champion, but… Sonia’s research is just fascinating. Not to mention the events that had occurred in Slumbering Weald – a part of Hop is curious if the Hero in the legends wielded a Pokémon like that.

Maybe it’s Hop’s curiosity that prompts him to say, “If we hear anything about the hero or whatnot, we’ll tell you!”

“You will? That’d be fantastic!” Sonia responds, clapping her hands together.

“Sure, I’d be happy to,” you agree, eying Hop out of the corner of your eye. Hop looks at you curiously.

“What is it?”

“You just seem really excited,” you give him an easy grin, “it’s a good thing we left for our journey, after all.”

“Well, I’ll be the new Champion, you know,” he responds, easily, but inside his heart is running laps in his chest. The implication that his happiness is why you’re so excited to be on a journey makes him feel oddly warm. He doesn’t dwell on it, though, because Sonia is shooting the two of you a cheeky look. “You better do your best to keep up, mate! A good Champion always needs a good rival.”

You nod with a laugh, “You’ll see, Hop. I’ll be the best rival the world’s ever seen.”

--

And a good rival you are – Hop still hasn’t been able to beat you. There’s a lingering frustration that rattles him as he withdraws his fallen Pokémon, but there’s also this sense of… freedom. Sure, losing sucked, but it was exhilarating thinking about how Pokémon can use their moves and abilities to fight.

“Good match, Hop,” you say, approaching him.

“Good match,” he agrees. “Looks like I better keep my guard up! You’re excellent at using type match ups to your advantage, you know. I didn’t realize your Pokémon had that ability, either – that was awesome to see in battle.” Hop continues his little tangent about your battle, before shifting to the Pokédex you two had obtained from Professor Magnolia. “And not to mention – did you know that Wooloo’s wool is so strong that it could roll down a cliff and not get injured? Maybe that’s why our Wooloo are so rambunctious! They don’t think they can ever get hurt.”

“Wow, no wonder that one Wooloo rolled into Slumbering Weald, then. It probably should’ve been protecting us,” you laugh, making Hop grin.

“Probably!” he crosses his arms, letting out a hum. “I’ve had Wooloo for years and I’ve never known this – I’d have probably never known if I didn’t go on this journey. It’s fascinating to know how broad our world is. Now I’m curious about how dynamaxing fits into all of this, you know? It’s such an interesting concept.”

“Yeah, it really is!”

 “Isn’t it?” Hop continues talking about his findings, spurred on by your attention. You’ve always been the sort to look at him and only him when he talks, so it's easy for Hop to talk about his newest fixation. You always listen to him when no one else does, which he appreciates. Especially since Hop isn’t really sure why, but he’s been very into researching Pokémon lately. Sure, in part it’s because researching leads to understanding Pokémon better, which leads to being a better Pokémon trainer, which then leads to helping him become a Pokémon Champion… But sometimes he’ll sit down and read pages and pages of Pokémon facts just because he finds it interesting. 

“You’ll be a fine Champion with all that knowledge,” you say, and Hop feels kind of off when he hears that statement. He’s not sure why, but he just nods.

“Yeah, I will be.”

--

Going on a journey is a lot more fun than Hop anticipated. It helps that he runs into you frequently and that he’s won all his gym battles so far (the grass, water, and fire badges he’s spent hours shining proving that). But what really makes him love traveling is learning. He’s found out so much and he continues to find out even more. The world is so much more vast than he ever imagined and it's all fascinating. Not to mention the fact that he’s picked up bits and pieces of knowledge to help Sonia and well…

Hop sometimes wonders if being a Champion is what he really wants. Sometimes, he’ll be so entrenched in his research that he won’t notice time slipping by. Of course, he still trains and battles and enjoys it, but there’s another form of enjoyment that comes with research.

But he’s set out to be the Champion – it’s what he’s always wanted. It’s what he thought he’d always want. It’s what everyone else expects of him as the Champion’s brother…

“The Champion really must have been off his rocker to endorse the likes of you,” Bede says, looking awfully smug as he always does. Hop has never really liked the guy.

“Rubbish. More like you don't know enough to recognize greatness when you see it. My throws are the greatest, and my bro is the finest Champion the world has ever seen! I'm not gonna listen to you insulting him!” Hop yells, readying his Poké Ball.

“How tiresome... Fine. I'll battle you over there. Maybe that will help you finally understand just how weak you are.”

The corners of Hop’s lips dip down further, displeased. “You’re on then!” Hop turns to you and motions for you to go. “Let's meet up in Hammerlocke when I'm through with him!”

You look hesitant to leave, but say, “Good luck, I’ll see you in Hammerlocke,” to Hop, before leaving.

Bede watches Hop, chin held high and pose nonchalant. “All this prattle about your friend and the Champion and whatnot... Do you not have anything of your own to show?”

Hop’s lips purse. He’ll show Bede.

--

The fire flickers, lighting up Hop’s face with shades of gold and amber. His Pokémon lay around him, sleeping soundly by the campfire after the battle with Bede.

There isn’t a lot to say, really. Hop lost – he lost badly.

“You’re just dragging the Champion’s name through the mud,” Bede had said, haughtily, and Hop couldn’t come up with any response because Bede was right.

“What am I supposed to do now?” he murmurs, eyes trained to the flickering fire in front of him. Leon’s always been Hop’s role model – Hop has always wanted to be Champion because that’s what Leon is. But did Hop actually want to become Champion, or was it all just because of Leon’s inspiration? Does Hop’s dream really belong to him? But even if his dream doesn’t belong to him, what else can he do…?

Is he having doubts because he has other avenues he wants to explore or is he having doubts because he lost? Is someone like him, who is dragging his brother’s name through the mud even able to become Champion?

Hop thinks and thinks, unsure of what to do. He kind of wishes he could see you – you’d be able to talk him through some things, to encourage him. But you’ve always been strong, Hop realizes. Unlike him, your dream is your own – it’s something that you’ve crafted and you’re certain of. Hop envies that. 

A bleat to his side draws his attention, his Dubwool nudging him. Hop looks over, noticing the book in his Dubwool’s mouth. 

“Ah, thanks…” he says, and Dubwool nudges him. “What, you want me to read this? To you?”

Dubwool bleats again, looking at Hop with its big eyes. Despite evolving, Dubwool’s eyes are the same as they were when it was a Wooloo.

Hop wants to say, “Not now,” but seeing his partner Pokémon’s curious look, Hop decides to oblige, settling into his warm jacket. He flips open the book, reading the various mythologies he’d been reading up on. Initially, he’d read this book to help find some information for Sonia, but the book itself fascinated Hop. While his bitter defeat still lingered in his mind, somehow, reading the book with Dubwool’s head in his lap helped make the fire in front of him feel cozier.

--

When he sees you again, your reunion is interrupted by some Team Yell grunts that you ceremoniously destroy in a Pokémon battle. Hop would’ve joined in, but he can’t seem to get himself to battle just yet, Poké Balls feeling heavy in his pockets.

You turn to him, “Hop–”

“Wow, you and your Pokémon were brilliant together!” he interrupts, making you blink in surprise.

“Ah, yeah, thank you…” you chew your bottom lip. “But that aside, are you okay?”

“Ah? Yeah, I’m fine as always.”

You give him a flat look, knowing his tells and when he’s lying. To be fair, Hop has always been pretty bad at lying.

“...See, Bede really wiped the floor with me the last time we battled… And don't get me wrong—I can take a loss! Battling means you've got to lose sometimes,” Hop says, though he doubts you’ve ever lost. Or that Leon has ever lost. He’s just not… good enough. “...But he said that I was dragging Lee’s good name through the mud, being so rubbish like I was… And I just can’t get those words out of my head!”

There’s a conflict in Hop – his desire to not mar Leon’s name, his doubts of who he is and what he wants, his envy towards you… It all muddles inside of him in some incomprehensible ball of self-loathing. Hop just isn’t sure what to do. He feels lost.

“...Hop,” you say, gently, “Can we… hang out for a bit?”

“Huh?”

“Just. I feel like when we’re on this journey, we’re so busy battling and trying to get stronger that we haven’t really had time to hang out, y’know. I want to catch up, if you’re okay with it.”

At first, Hop wants to say he’s not in the mood, self-loathing clutching him like a vice, but he realizes that you’re asking to hang out because of him. You’re worried, and it’s because you care about him. The thought makes Hop’s self-loathing deteriorate slightly. “Okay, I’d like that.”

You sleep soundly beside him, cozied up in your sleeping bag. Hop can’t really seem to sleep, though. Talking to you had abated some of his worries, especially with how patient you were. You also listened to him ramble about Pokémon research again, which made him feel a lot better.

He turns, looking at your sleeping face. You’ve always been someone he treasured, but nowadays, you’re more than that. You’re someone he admires, too. Someone he envies. Someone he wants to be closer to.

Hop closes his eyes, remembering how you looked by the campfire, how your eyes lit up when you two ate your curries together. He remembers you affectionately cuddling his Dubwool as if it were still a Wooloo. He remembers you making flower crowns for all his Pokémon and even him. 

“A crown looks good on you, I think,” you said, making him huff a laugh. You bow, saying, “Your wish is my command.”

“Then I command you to eat your dinner,” he responded, grinning. You’d always find a way to make him laugh.

“Ah, is it done?” 

Of course, food was something that always drew you in, making you drop your role immediately.

“It is, now c’mon, it’ll get cold,” Hop said, “Or I’ll eat it, if you don’t want it!”

You gasped in mock horror. “Don’t you dare!”

Hop snickers at the memory, before he remembers another memory with you. Different memories of you play inside his head like a movie, lulling him to sleep, shoulders lighter than before.

After talking with you, Hop feels a little better, though his doubts still linger. When you part ways, it’s hard not to let him sink back into his negative thoughts. Still… Hop decides that he’s not going to lay there without doing anything – sure, he may not know what he wants to do exactly, but he’ll figure it out. He’ll get stronger.

--

So he battles and he researches and repeats the same thing over and over again. He switches out his Pokémon and experiments with different team compositions. It’s tough having to train so many Pokémon, but researching different strategies is fun. He likes learning about more Pokémon. Besides, battling… It’s fun, too. Slowly, as the wins stack up, he’s gaining a bit of confidence in himself again. He’s not sure if his strategies are working fully, but at least it seems like he’s winning consistently… Until he battles you. When he battles you, he can see that chasm that forms between your skills and it’s hard to crush the doubts that arise again.

“Good match, Hop,” you say, approaching him with an extended hand. He gives your hand a firm shake.

“Yeah, good match, mate.” He hesitates, before he inhales deeply. He’s still a mess of emotions, but you’ve always been willing to listen. Talking to you has helped him a lot before. “Before we ever started out on this journey... I remember watching Lee on the telly. He was like a bright star, so strong I could hardly bear to look right at him. But now, I can tell just how strong he really is... And what he's got that I haven't…” He looks at you, not sure what to expect – disappointment, maybe.

But instead, you look at him kindly, encouraging him to continue.

“But I’m getting stronger, too. Maybe not as fast as you, but fine. Whatever! Thanks for letting me battle you again. And here. I'll heal up your team for you, too!”

“...Yeah, thanks, Hop.”

Hop waves off your thanks, instead focusing on your Pokémon. While healing them, he says, “...I still don’t know what I want fully. It’s like I’m torn between different sides of me. I like battling because it's fun, but I also want to win. I like research, but I also want to battle. It’s odd because I thought being Champion was what mattered to me, but now I don’t know.” Hop inhales. “But what I do know is that I want to battle Leon – I want to take on my bro. But not just that; I want to beat him! And I'm going to! My mind's made up! You and me are going to have another battle once I get my Gym Badge in Circhester!”

You grin at him. “I’m looking forward to it, Hop.”

There’s still a heaviness that lingers on Hop’s shoulders, but he feels a little better now that he’s more intune with what he plans to do and wants to do. He wants to battle, he wants to improve. He wants to beat Leon and he wants to beat you. He wants to research and learn about Pokémon. He wants to do it all and while he may not be able to do it all at once, he’ll take things step by step.

--

When Hop sees you again, he tries to battle by following Leon’s strategies, but somehow, that still doesn’t help him win against you. He just doesn’t know what he’s doing wrong. It’s frustrating, but he’s made up his mind to research as much as he can and train as much as he can, so he’ll just have to see what works best for him. It won’t be a quick process, but Hop is motivated enough to keep going. Step by step, he’ll surely get to where he wants to be.

“I know you probably don’t want to hear this from me,” you say, softly, snapping Hop out of his thoughts. There’s a frown on your face and for the first time, Hop sees the guilt that lingers in your eyes. “But I… don’t think you should be battling like Leon. That is, I think it’s best to find out how you work best, Hop. And most importantly… You’ve ought to stop doubting yourself.”

“Huh?”

“I saw that last move, you know. If you had just went through with your plan, you could’ve knocked my Pokémon out, but you were too focused on what you thought I might do that you doubted at the last second.” You shake your head. “Sorry, I know I’m overstepping. I’ll see you later, Hop.”

“Wait–”

But you’ve run off before he can get a word out. Hop can’t help but stare at your retreating figure, stunned at what you’d just said to him. 

Oh…

He was so focused on himself that he had never realized what you might’ve been going through. Now that he thinks about it… What is your dream, anyway?

--

When he sees you again, he expects stiffness, but you greet him kindly and warmly. You’ve always been supportive and friendly to him, he’s realized, regardless of his flaws. But he's also very acutely aware about how worn out you look. The best thing he can do right now is to talk to you like he always would – that somehow seems to pep you back up. It makes him smile at how much kindness you hold for him, patiently waiting for him to reach out when needed.

He wonders if he needs to wait for you to reach out when you need him, or if he can take the first step and offer you his hand first. He’s not even really sure if he can support himself, but he wants to be there for you. After all, your words from before helped puzzle pieces snap in place for him. His self doubt, his hesitation – those were holding him back. 

He realizes now that he needs a proper balance in his life of battling, researching, and having fun, but he was so focused on winning that he’d forgotten why he wanted to win in the first place. Winning to him isn’t just a sign of his competence as a battler – winning also signaled how much effort he had put into training and research.

That effort is why he liked battling so much – he would put in the work and get rewarded. And he believes he’ll continue to get rewarded if he continues to try hard. 

Of course, that doesn’t mean he can’t sit down and relax for a bit, chattering with you and Sonia about the Legendary Heroes. It’s all so interesting, and Sonia seems to agree. For the first time, seeing Sonia’s passion for her work, Hop thinks that being a professor might not be a bad idea at all.

Of course, battling is still his number one priority, so he challenges you to a battle at the Hero's Bath. You, again, wipe the floor with him, but this time, he doesn’t feel as heavy as he did before. This time, he battled like he would, not how Leon would. His strategy and battle style aren't perfect yet, but he feels like he's getting there. 

“I still can’t even beat you, my true rival… But I think I’m starting to see the light!” he says and this time, he means it.

The smile you give him at his words is brighter than any light. It draws him in and makes him want to burn that smile in his memories forever.

“I’m glad.”

--

Finally, as he watches Raihan’s last Pokémon go down for the count, there’s a feeling of ease that settles inside him. Hop still doesn’t have all the answers, but he feels like he’s closer than he’s ever been. As he does his best to catch up with you, he realizes that you’ve always been patiently waiting for him.

As you two ride the train to Wyndon, both of you with eight shiny badges, Hop realizes that the journey’s changed you a lot. You’re more assured, more confident. But you’ve always remained just the way you are in some ways, too. You’re kind, you’re wonderful.

“We’re finally headed for Wyndon, huh?” he says, making you look up from your book.

“Yeah.” You place a bookmark between the pages of your book, and Hop recognizes it as the Wooloo shaped one he gifted you years ago. “It’s kinda unbelievable, huh?”

“You think?” Hop says, earnestly.

You huff out a laugh. “You’re right, I guess it might not be for you. I always did think you’d make it this far.”

At your words, Hop’s heart throbs with affection. He wonders if he knows what you mean to him, what you’ve meant to him throughout this journey.

“I knew you’d get this far too, y’know,” he grins. “Sure, I reckon I’m still the favorite to win, but… You’re my true rival, mate.”

You snort. “I’m glad because I won't let someone else have that spot, y’know.”

“No one else can take it,” he says, watching as you give him a smile he’s never seen more. It’s… more bashful, a little more soft. It’s not a smile you give to your Pokémon nor is it one you give to your mom. Heck, it’s not even one you’ve given to him yet. It’s hard to explain, but the way your lips flit upwards slightly, the way your eyes crinkle – it makes him feel like time is stopping.

“Hop?” you call out, your smile turning into a look of concern.

Hop inwardly curses, embarrassed that he was caught staring. “There’s a lot I want to check out at Wyndon, actually. There’s that big tower… and the monorail… And Wyndon Stadium– it’s where the whole world’s gonna be watching us!”

You exhale softly, fingers lightly tapping against the hardcover of your book. “Nerve wracking, honestly.”

“You’ll do great!” Hop encourages. He wonders if his words will mean anything to you like your words mean to him. “You and me are gonna make our match the greatest match that ever was!”

You blink at him, before a small smile curls at your lips. “Yeah, you’re right,” you give him a grin. “You and I… We’re gonna show the entirety of Galar!”

Hop beams back at you, knowing in his gut that you two will surely make history.

--

Hop’s heart thuds in his chest as he watches you on the television, commanding your Pokémon with so much power that he can’t look away. You blaze so brilliantly that Hop doesn’t know how you haven’t consumed everything whole. But there’s something else he notices – something he knows no one else but him sees. The way your hand trembles, the way you close your eyes and breathe to calm yourself. Whenever you’re on the battlefield, it’s not just your Pokémon that you command, it’s your emotions.

Hop realizes that you have your own doubts, your own fears – it’s just that, unlike him, your dream is crafted by you. It wasn’t crafted like his where he wanted to be Champion because it was all he knew. It wasn’t crafted like his where it felt like his dreams were being crushed by his doubts. Instead, your dream is crafted like his new one – built slowly and lovingly over the course of his adventure. As he finds himself, his dream shifts and molds into something that grows with him. He no longer wants to be Champion because it was all he knew or because he wanted to be like his brother – no, it’s because he wants to win and prove himself. It’s because he wants to showcase that his strategies, that his research, is meaningful. 

More than anything, he wants to battle you. He wants to battle you so you can see that he finally knows what he wants – so that you can finally see that he’s no longer doubting who he is.

“After seeing the way you battled, I can’t accept any outcome besides winning this match,” Hop says, meeting you in the locker room. You grin at him, offering him a hand to shake, which he does gladly. Your warmth alights adrenaline in his blood but it also comforts him.

“I’m not going to take defeat laying down, you know,” you say, making him laugh.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

You both stare at each other, a mutual understanding passing through you two. As the intercom calls for you two, you two smile at each other, before getting to your spots to battle. As you two meet on the field with millions of eyes on the two of you, Hop is suddenly hit with the realization of just how far the two of you had come.

“I just had this sort of flashback, you know. Remember? Back when we were still in Postwick,” he says, making you huff out a laugh. 

“I’d never forget.”

He smiles, before inhaling deeply. “When we got our Pokémon from Lee that day, I never would’ve dreamed that I’d end up standing here… facing you. But I’m glad it’s you.” Before you can respond, he smacks his cheeks lightly to get himself into the proper mindset. “But it’s time I finish what I started that day… Got it? The one who’ll win is me!”

--

The one that wins is you. After the intense battle, the one that claims victory is you. Somehow, Hop knew this would happen. You had something about you that was similar to Leon. Yeah, he knew you’d win…

But that didn’t mean it didn’t sting when he lost.

Still… Hop watches your shoulders heave in exertion. He watches as your Pokémon runs to you, proud. He watches as the crowd cheers madly, the match you two held having a lasting impact on all that watched.

He watches and he sees the unshed tears in your eyes as yours meet his. He watches as you open your mouth to speak, but close it, teeth clenching in uncertainty of what to say. You don’t pity him – that’s not the type of person you are – but he knows you feel guilty. He knows that his dreams weigh heavy on your own shoulders. He knows, and he wishes you knew that he’ll be okay.

He wishes you could know that somehow, despite losing, he doesn’t mind. He tried his best, his Pokémon tried their best, and that’s what matters to him now. He’s not going to take this loss as him losing an opportunity to become Champion. Instead, he’ll take it as a new start where he can dedicate himself to combining his love for battling and research. He wants you to know all of this and more – so, so much more.

“Thanks, mate,” he says, approaching you. He gives your Pokémon a sitrus berry, earning a delighted purr from it. He smiles at it, before he grins at you. “I’m really glad you were the one here with me.”

“Hop… I–” you swallow the lump in your throat, your voice wobbling. He sees himself reflected in your eyes so clearly that he wonders if you see your reflection reflected in his. “I’m… glad I could battle you. You’ll always be my greatest rival, for the end of time.”

“Good,” he says. “I’m not letting anyone take that from me.” With a grin, he offers his hand for a handshake, which you just look at.

Hesitantly, you reach out. Hop shakes your hand firmly, trying to emphasize everything he wants to say with his actions. But he knows he can’t so he decides to say everything instead.

“You know, even when Sonia was saying that you and me looked like we could become heroes, I never really felt like one…” he says, “But you, mate! I think maybe you really could do all sorts of great things! Good on you and all the rest of your team!”

“I think you can do all sorts of great things, too, Hop,” you say with so much passion that it blows Hop away. Your lip wobbles as you hold his hand with both of yours. “Hop – you don’t see what I see, that much I can tell, but I want you to know that you’re amazing. Your passion, your knowledge, all of it. I’m so grateful that you’re the one that’s my rival. I could have never asked for anyone better.”

Hop is stunned into silence, unsure of what to say. But what he does know is that your words are close to bringing him to tears. He’s already decided not to doubt himself, he already knows what his real dream is, but hearing words of encouragement just makes everything in the world shine differently.

Hop wishes that he could see how you look at him. He wishes that you could see how he looks at you. 

“...Thanks, mate,” he says, voice cracking in the middle. “I– just, thanks.”

“Yeah,” your murmur softly, the guilt in your eyes clearing away slowly. You squeeze his hand and Hop wonders if you’d be willing to hold his hand forever and ever. He wonders if you’d be willing to talk to him on lazy mornings and listen to his ramblings. He wonders if you’d travel with him, camping and having Pokémon battles together. He wonders if you’d be willing to–

Oh.

Oh.

Arceus.

He thinks he’s in love with you.

--

Hop has little time to revel in the realization that he loves you, what with Director Rose acting odd as well as your final battle with Leon coming up. You’re the one that’s fighting, but for some reason, he’s the one that’s more nervous. Still, he decides to greet you brightly.

“All right? The big moment’s here, eh? I came just to cheer you on, you know!”

When the nervousness eases from your face, Hop doesn’t know why that makes his heart soar. “Hop,” you say, softly. “You came.”

“Yeah, ‘course I did,” he says, sitting next to you. “Mate, you feeling all right?”

“Not really,” you admit, sheepish. “It’s just… So much.”

“Yeah, it is,” Hop agrees easily, placing a kind hand on your back. He rubs soothing circles, feeling the tenseness in your back. “I’m cheering for you, you know.”

“Thank you,” you say, and Hop grins.

“Still, it’s not easy picking sides… After all, it’s the showdown between my big brother and my rival… Who should I really want to win more?”

“Hey!”

“I’m joshing you!” he laughs. “I’ll be cheering for you, promise. After all, we did start this thing out together, way back in Postwick.”

“Yeah.” You breathe in deeply, before nodding. “Yeah, we did.”

“Yup, so you better beat Lee, you hear? If anyone can beat him, it’s you.”

“...Hop, can I ask you for something?”

“Hm?” he looks at you, feeling the nervousness roll off your shoulders.

“Can you hug me?”

Hop almost chokes in surprise, but opens his arms silently, not trusting himself to speak. He hopes you can’t hear the way his heart thuds so strongly against his chest. Oh Arceus, did he smell okay? Maybe he shouldn’t have agreed to his hug – he’s not sure what to do with himself and the nerves are about to kill him. Still, as he feels you squeeze him tightly, his embarrassment ebbs away slowly. He hugs you back, cradling you close to him.

There’s not much he can do for you, but he hopes that, at the very least, you’re aware that he’ll always stand by you. That he’ll always be there to support you.

--

Hop’s head is a mess. He was supposed to watch you and his brother’s battle, but Director Rose had interrupted the fight, going on about the Darkest Day or some other baloney that Hop could care less about. Currently, Hop’s more worried about his brother who has run off to stop Rose. 

“I want to help my brother,” he mutters, watching Leon leave on his Charizard. He’s feeling so useless that he’s not sure what to do. All the doubts from months ago come crashing back into him, Bede’s words ringing harshly in his ears. “I’ve got to!”

“You can help!” you encourage, tugging at his sleeve. “Let’s go, Hop!”

“That’s easy for you to say,” he snaps, frustrated. “ I can’t even manage to beat you, so what sort of help could I ever be…?”

As soon as the words leave Hop’s mouth, he freezes, knowing that he messed up.

“I mean–”

“You’re right,” you say, face perfectly neutral. “With that attitude, you can’t do anything!” Your tone is heated, “But– Leon needs you, Hop. I need you. We need to help Leon and I won’t be able to do it on my own. You might think you’re not good enough or that I can do everything on my own, but I can’t!” Your shoulders heave as you try to catch your breath, your tears wetting your cheeks. “Arceus, Hop… Can’t you see? I need you. I–”

“You’re right,” Hop says quickly, guilt settling into his brain. He tries to think back to his epiphany. He thinks back to what his real dream and goal are. He thinks back to why he wanted to battle, to why he wanted to beat you. He thinks about how you mean the world to him and that he wants you to know that he has your back like you have his. He wants you to know that he’ll always support you. 

Shame overwhelms him as his head gets clearer, his worry for his older brother being replaced with determination to help him. “You're right, I was saying rubbish. I’m sorry.”

“You were saying rubbish,” you snip, sniffling. 

Hop wipes off your tears with his thumb, saying, “Sorry.”

“If you are, you better help me.”

Hop nods at you, determined to make things right. “Let’s first start with how we can help Lee. Director Rose said something about the Darkest Day, didn’t he…?” The gears in Hop’s head turn, making him gasp as you come to the same realization. 

The statue of the hero, the tapestries, Slumbering Weald…

You and Hop nod at each other, determination settling in both of your bones.

--

As you two enter Slumbering Weald, Hop can’t help but remember the first time you visited the place together. Thick fog hung over the place like a shield, trying to block out any intruders that may dare to step into the holy ground. Back then, Hop was terrified. Now, though, Hop is surprised with how safe he feels with his Pokémon and you by his side.

“Ready for this?” he asks you, and you nod.

“I’ve got you and my Pokémon by my side. I’m not scared of anything.”

Your words make Hop’s heart flutter in his chest and he wants to wheeze physically at how you knock the breath out of him with your words. Instead, he says, “Going into the forest after Wooloo that day... That was the start of everything, wasn't it? A legendary beginning, really…”

“That’s true,” you nod, “and I’m glad we had such a legendary beginning.”

“I reckon whatever we're about to see will be pretty legendary itself!” he beams, “Well, let’s head in and add another page to our tale!”

His heart almost stops when you grab his hand, but he doesn’t say anything in fear that you’ll pull away. Instead, he squeezes your hand back.

--

Hop feels like he’s going to die. Everything before this moment, finding the rusted sword and shield, going up the Energy Plant, reaching the Tower summit… all of it feels like a blur, hazy in his mind as he stares at the beast in front of him. Leon does his best to hold his own, but the new Pokémon – Eternatus – is too strong. 

But he can’t give up here. He wants to protect Galar, his mom, Leon, and you. He’s put in so much effort to be strong. He’s put in so much effort to find out what he really wants. You’ve put in so much effort to get this far. You’ve put in so much effort to pull him out of his own doubts.

Yeah. He’s not going to let the Darkest Day come. There’s no way.

With a deep breath, he stands up, extending a hand to you. “All right. Let’s take it on together!”

“Gladly!” you say, grasping his hand to stand up yourself. You two stand side by side, rusted sword and shield in your hands, looking like the heroes from the tales of old.

--

After all that excitement, Hop’s not really sure how things will return to normalcy, but they do. After dinner with his family, he’s reading in his bedroom, Dubwool resting its head on his lap. There’s a knock at his door, causing Hop to look up in curiosity.

“Come in,” he says, and the door opens to reveal his older brother.

“Hey, Hop,” Leon says, closing the door behind him. “Got your nose in a book, eh?”

“Yeah,” Hop says, putting his book down as Leon makes his way over. “...How are you feeling, Lee?”

“Ah?” Leon looks surprised, before he laughs. “Fair question. I’m not entirely sure. I’m kind of frustrated, I think, but… I also feel exhilarated. Your friend truly battles like no other.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Hop says, feeling a sense of happiness at Leon acknowledging you. Yeah, you are strong.

“...How about you, Hop? Feeling all right?”

“Yeah!” Hop responds, genuinely feeling lighter than before, like another pathway has opened up for him. “It’s kind of like a new path has opened up for me, you know?”

“Hah, I get that!” Leon claps his hand on Hop’s back, bellowing out a loud laugh. When Hop looks into Leon’s eyes, he can see the pride his older brother carries for him. “Look at my brother – strong and smart. I’d have expected nothing less.” With a grin, Leon musses up Hop’s hair, making Hop laugh as he tries to get out of his older brother’s headlock.

“You messed up my hair, Lee!”

“Sorry, sorry,” Leon says, letting Hop go. “...But seriously. I’m glad you seem to know what you want to do. I have things I want to do that I’m no longer Champion, too. Looks like we’ll both be busy.”

“Yup, sounds like it!”

Leon grins, before stretching and falling back on Hop’s bed. “Man! Time sure flies quickly, huh? I feel like it was only yesterday that I was losing battles and getting helped as a child.”

Hop blinks, looking at Leon curiously. “You… Lost battles before?”

“Yeah, when I was starting out.” Leon lets out a small hum in thought. “I also refused to get help because I was kind of overconfident, too. Once I started getting help from people like Master Mustard, though, well… I guess I kind of unlocked a hidden potential in me and I stopped losing. Well, until now, that is.”

“Oh,” Hop says, looking surprised. His older brother, who he thought was the pinnacle of strength, had struggled too. His brother needed help, too. His brother is human, too. “...Thanks, Lee,” Hop decides to say, finally.

Leon lays on Hop’s bed for a few more beats, before he tackles Hop into another headlock, making Hop’s hair even messier than before.

“Hey!” Hop laughs, pushing Leon off of him.

“I’m proud of you, Hop,” Leon says, once Hop escapes the headlock. “I hope you know that.”

Without missing a beat, Hop responds with, “Yeah, I know.”

--

The next day, Hop finds himself back in Slumbering Weald, taking in the mystical atmosphere. He looks at how the trees reflect against the lake, clear and bright. 

“Hop?” At your voice, Hop turns around, looking at you curiously.

“Huh? What’re you doing out here in the woods?”

“Well… I just felt like something was calling me here, I guess?” you say. “And it’s quiet.”

“Hah, yeah, I guess it must be loud around you, huh?” Hop pauses, looking at the lake that’s as clear as his heart. “Congrats on the Championship, by the way! You’re amazing, I hope you know that.”

“Thank you,” you say, eyes trained on the lake before you. You watch as leaves leave ripples on the surface of the water.

“I should be thanking you,” Hop responds, making you turn to him curiously. “I… Have something to confess.”

“What is it?”

“I actually stopped wanting to be Champion a while ago.” Hop put up a hand. “Wait, let me rephrase – it was more like… I found out that becoming Champion wasn’t my end goal. Sure, it’d have been nice to be Champion, but more than that, I wanted to win and be strong. Being Champion would just signify my strength.” Hop skips a flat stone across the lake, causing ripples to form. “I also realized that while I loved battling, I loved research, too. The stuff Sonia’s doing? It fascinates me.”

He looks at you, and you look at him, patiently waiting for him to continue.

“...The reason I was able to find myself and stop doubting myself so much is because of you.” His voice is so quiet that he doubts you heard him. But the softness in your eyes tell him otherwise. “So, yeah, thank you.”

“You’re so silly, Hop,” you laugh. “You’re the one that’s done that, you know? Sure, maybe I gave you a push here and there, but you’re the one who discovered all of this. You’re the one who decided to take the steps to meet your goals. You’re– you’re amazing, you know that?”

Hop wonders briefly how you can make him love you even more than he already does. He wonders briefly if he’s loved you long before he even realized it because how could he not? He briefly wonders, but then he realizes he doesn’t care because he loves you now and that’s what matters to him.

“I have one more confession,” he says. He can feel his heart about to jump out of his throat but he feels like his heart will stop entirely if he doesn’t tell you his feelings. “I like you. I’ve liked you for a while now, actually. I know I can be a pain sometimes, and I’m not trying to force my feelings on you, but if you’re okay with it, can you give me a chance?” Hop’s eyes are closed during his confession, scared of what expression you’ll have on your face.

When you’re silent, he feels himself sweat, unsure of what to do with himself. Taking a chance, he cracks an eye open to at least assess what expression you might have on your face. What Hop sees takes his breath away – you, underneath the dappled sunlight, the wind in your hair. You, with a bright smile, all the affection you can muster in your eyes. You, who is looking at him with so much emotion that he’s not sure what to do with it all.

“I’ll give you as many chances as you want,” you say, reaching out to grab his hands. “So, will you give me a chance?”

“Arceus, yes,” he laughs, relief flooding the adrenaline out of his veins. Arceus, he loves you. He really, really loves you. And with the way you look at him he can tell you love him too.

[scaredpigeons]

Sunrise, Crystallize II: of sunsets and tears.

Masterlist // Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Zhongli x Fem!reader

SFW (there will be nsfw chapters and allusions to slight nsfw, but I will keep it separate so everyone may enjoy.)

Word Count: 3.9k

After feeling stuck for so long, who knew your life could evolve to have so much movement? Zhongli seems to make a very good teacher, and your small group of people you’re comfortable interacting with seems to be growing and growing by the day! Though you never thought you would have someone who considered you as a ‘dear friend’… you don’t think too hard about why his presence feels so comforting.

CW: reader has anxiety and low self esteem. Some self deprecating thoughts in this one, as well as a sliver of slightly suggestive thoughts. Its nothing crazy though. (Who hasn’t thought about Zhongli’s hands every now and then, eh?) reader starts training with a Polearm (author has no idea the proper techniques and forms for wielding a spear, so please forgive her.) reader cries like a blubbering little baby in this one and thats so real. I cry so hard when people show me kindness.

Authors Note: I find it really interesting and fun to try and incorporate game mechanics into fics. If its too much, doesn’t make any sense or you just don’t like it, then ignore it. We’ll only get a little bit more in the next chapter of Zhongli helping reader develop her skill and burst, but then i think that’ll be it. What’s endgame here? I have no clue. They’ll kiss, at some point, totally. Any ideas? Lol

——————————————————————

“When thinking about the uses of your vision, the possibilities are vast— confined only to the capabilities of the element and your own personal imagination. For example, plenty of Hydro users have implemented healing abilities into their vision usage, due to hydro’s innate ability to heal. But there are plenty of those who use hydro solely as an offensive element as well. 

On a similar note, Pyro is an element that is primarily used for offensive purposes, but there are plenty of those who choose to mold the element to suit supportive, defensive, or even healing purposes, despite its obvious affinity for destruction.” 

You twiddle with a pebble on the ground, unable to meet his eyes but soaking in his words all the same. 

“Geo has a natural affinity for defense usage, right? Due to its resilience against the other elements.” 

Zhongli makes an affirmative sound, which makes you look up at him from your spot on the ground. His smile is warm, making your cheeks flush and your eyes dart to the side. 

“Correct, very well said.” His praise made you even more flustered, and you ducked your head, playing with an invisible loose threat on your pants. 

“We are fortunate that you received a Geo vision, as I am very well acquainted with the element, and can help you answer any questions or concerns you may have.” There was a tone of amusement in his voice that you didn’t really understand, perhaps an inside joke? You knew he was a geo user, you’d seen his vision dangling from that decorative chain on his coat. 

It looked a little different than yours, but that was perhaps because it was older? You didn’t really pay close attention to visions before now, so you really had no idea. 

“What kind of role were you thinking you’d like to take on with your new power? Have you perhaps considered a weapon?” he asked. 

You really hadn’t thought about any of this. After Zhongli had given you the customary Liyue Vision holder, you’d simply tucked it in your pocket, not really wanting to advertise that you now had one. 

“What kind of weapon do you use?” You looked at his shoes, then glanced up to his eyes for a moment. 

He simply stepped back, and summoned a beautiful Polearm, almost pulling it from thin air. 

“Woah— will I be able to do that now?” You exclaimed, sitting up a bit straighter. 

He chuckled, a warm and deep thing that made your heart flutter with the desire to hear more of it. 

“Of course, would you like to try?” He asked, handing you the spear. 

You eyed the polearm warily. It looked to be worth more than your entire shop could make in a year, and incredibly dangerous. 

“Are you sure?” You said, standing up. 

Zhongli nodded, placing the polearm delicately in your waiting palms. It felt heavy, a little too imbalanced on the bladed side. You gripped it tightly, feeling a bit awkward. 

“How do I…?”

He smiled, placing a hand over his mouth as if to cover how wide it stretched, but you could still see it in the crinkle of his eyes. Did he find how you look holding such a massive weapon amusing? Well, you probably did look pretty silly. He cleared his throat before he continued. 

“Simply will it away, and it will listen. When you wish to bring it back, call it forth, and it shall come.” 

You quirked your brow, finding that explanation to be a bit too far fetched. You thrust your hand to the side, scrunching your face and concentrating very hard. 

“And… go away!” You said. The polearm disappeared from your grip, vaporizing into a little show of sparkles. Your eyes blew wide, and you looked around to see if it was some kind of trick. With no polearm in sight, you gaped at Zhongli, grinning wide at how simple it actually was. 

With his arms crossed, he nodded expectantly at you, and you took that as your instruction to bring it back. 

You shot your hand out beside you once more, closing your eyes and squeaking out a “Come back!” And suddenly its weight materialized into your palm once more, making you lean a bit at the sudden heft. 

“Holy Archons!” You cried out. “That's so cool!”  

Zhongli tilted his head, clearly quite entertained by your amazement, but you’d grown comfortable enough around him that you didn't really feel like he was picking on you anymore. 

“That is just one of many things you are capable of. Would you like to learn more?” 

You nodded enthusiastically, so in awe of this new world brought to you by such a tiny little orb. 

———————————————

After deliberating for some time about your choice of weaponry, (you chose the polearm, solely because Zhongli seemed to have a plethora of them, and offered to lend you a much smaller, less ornamental one) Zhongli started to go into detail about the uses of your vision.

”Obviously the possibilities are nearly endless, as I said before— but to better conserve your strength, it is best to choose two signature styles of use that you can practice and hone into something of an artform.

Your vision's power comes from within you, so if you blast it all away at once with a showy and overpowered move, you’re left with virtually no strength to continue on, which will leave most people in a rather precarious position.

This is why, in battle, most wielders will choose two signature moves, an elemental skill, and an elemental burst.”

Zhongli moved to stand further away from you, more towards the lake in the center of Mt. Aocang. You’d been a little worried about traveling up here, but he’d assured you that the Adepti of Jueyun Karst would not bother the two of you, and you had no reason to argue otherwise, so you followed dutifully. 

“An elemental skill—“ He crosses his arms, and a giant pillar of rock that radiates geo energy comes shooting out of the ground, nearly causing you to stumble back. “Is a move that should consume a minimal amount of your energy for maximum potential. You want to hone it to its best usage, and perfect it to benefit you in any situation.”

You regard the pillar with awe, feeling the geo energy sweeping a few feet outwards from where it protrudes from the ground. Taking a closer look, you run your hands along its surface, admiring the beautiful structure and the energy tingling beneath your fingertips. You think you see Zhongli shift a bit where he stands beside you, but when you turn to look, he is simply observing you with a neutral expression. 

“These will cause crystallize reactions to any element within their area of effect, creating micro shields for myself and any team members I may be traveling with. But because I have been honing this skill for a very long time, I have learned to alter it to better suit my needs.” 

Suddenly the tower of rock disappears, and Zhongli is encased in a swirling column of geo, glowing and pulsing around him. 

“Wow…” you say, stepping forward. “You’ve learned to create a shield without the use of a crystallize reaction?” 

“Not a difficult feat in itself, but the strength of the shield took me many years to hone.” He says, watching you with amused eyes. It truly seemed as though he found your hunger for knowledge and wonder at the world of visions very entertaining, and for once you didn’t feel ashamed to be expressing yourself so openly. 

“Can I… can I touch it?” You asked hesitantly. 

His eyes seemed to glimmer in the afternoon sunshine as he nodded, chuckling a bit. 

“You can take that polearm I gave you and test how it feels to strike at an opponent, if you’re so inclined.” 

Without really thinking, you circled him, running your fingertips along the wall of impenetrable energy surrounding him. 

You could feel the crackling geo resonating through your fingertips, meeting your own elemental energy in a tentative spark that shot shivers up your arms and down your spine. You’d never really focused on elemental energies before, but it was like now you could see it in everything, feel it course through your body like the blood in your veins. 

Even without interacting with any other vision users like this, you could instantly tell that Zhongli was incredibly powerful. The elemental energy surrounding him was almost blinding, and the crackle of his shield under your fingertips was like a gust of pure power being blown through your nervous system. 

“Is every person with a vision like this?” You murmured, knocking your knuckles against the shield and meeting pure resistance. 

“Like what?” You weren’t expecting him to answer you, you hadn’t even really realized you were speaking out loud. 

You stepped back, your face heating up. “Ah, I mean… your energy, it’s really— it’s really intense.” 

You looked up at him to watch him quirk a brow down at your words, which made you stammer and run your hands over your face in exasperation at yourself. 

“What I mean— I mean your Elemental energy. I’ve never… I’ve never really paid attention before, or maybe never saw it before I got my vision— but focusing on you now, it’s really… powerful.” You watched as the shield rotated around him in awe, the energy swirling and glowing in the sunlight. “It’s really beautiful.” 

The words left your mouth before you even thought to hold them back, and you felt the heat in your face travel up to your ears. 

“Beautiful?” Zhongli said, a hint of teasing in that smooth voice of his. 

You spluttered, and without thinking summoned your polearm, gripping the pole tightly in your hands, holding it in front of you defensively.

“That offer to whack it is still on the table, yes?” You stammered.

“Perhaps we should further discuss how you visualize the Elemental energy around us, yes? I’m very Intrigued about your—“ his tone really was teasing now, and you couldn’t handle another second of it or you’d explode. 

”AHBAHBAP—“ you blurted out, taking a step back to charge at him in your fluster. “Less talking, more whacking!” 

—————————————

Over the last few months, you seemed to be developing and adapting to new routines very quickly, whereas your life before Liyue felt so sedimentary, so stale and monotonous. 

Your new daily routines were busy, schedule packed and lively, forcing more social interaction on yourself than you’d had in years past. 

You would wake, make your way to the terrace to do your morning prayers, have tea with Madame Ping, wave good morning to Zhongli and Hu Tao as they opened up the funeral parlor before heading home to open the store. 

You weren’t sure about hiring some help with the shop, but Madame Ping had asked for a favor, so now one of her disciples, a little girl by the name of Yaoyao came by three times a week to help you tend to the greenhouse and greet customers. It was supposedly part of her training, though you weren’t really sure what she was training for. 

Her assistance did come in very handy though, and you weren’t complaining. the customers loved her, the plants loved her, and business was doing well enough that you could send her home with a decent little bag of mora at the end of the week, even though she would always try to refuse. It had taken you saying that you would be very upset to see her go unrewarded for all her hard work, and of course she didn’t want to do anything to make you sad. 

During those three day intervals, you would close up the storefront in the early evenings, entrusting the care of the greenhouse chores to little Yaoyao, even going as far as to get her a little key cut for the side entrance so she could lock up when she was finished. 

The reason? Zhongli had personally offered to train you more, help you hone your new power into usable skill. 

After his impromptu lesson in the mountains, you surely thought he would be done with you, only showing you the basics out of the goodness of his heart, so you didn’t make a fool of yourself or injure anyone around you. 

But no— he was taking three evenings out of his week to spar with you, and help you learn how to wield the power of geo. 

This week he chose Yaoguang Shoal as your location, most likely because last week you said it might be nice to train by the sea sometime. You hadn’t really thought he’d take much consideration into your words, seeing as he favored the more mountainous regions, but there you were anyway— the spray of salt and wind battering your skin as you laughed and kicked up sand under Zhongli’s watchful eye.  

After a few weeks of this, you were starting to gain a little more confidence, and you could tell that Zhongli was slowly increasing the pressure on you during sparring, each day his posture slightly more tense, his moves just a little faster than before. 

You parried his strike with a move you’d been trying to perfect since last week. You were successful, but you winced as an ache wracked through your elbow, sliding back and lowering your weapon to signal that you weren’t continuing. 

“Good!” Zhongli said as you parried the strike, but his gaze landed heavily on you as you rubbed your sore arm. “Though you’re still taking in too much force with your elbows and wrists, you’ll injure yourself if you keep that form.” 

You huffed, standing in position again, going through the motions of the move slowly like he taught you, but you could tell you were still screwing it up. 

Zhongli made his way closer as he watched your increasing frustration. He circled around you and watched you from behind for a moment. You weren’t exactly paying attention to him until you felt his presence extremely close— the heat radiating from him making the hairs on the back of your neck prickle.

”Here, my apologies, but may I touch you for a moment?” His voice rumbled behind you, making your cheeks flush. It was Zhongli— it was Zhongli. The question, no matter how suggestive your stupid brain wanted to perceive it, was nothing but innocent. It was Zhongli. It was innocent. 

“Yes.” You said, the word sounding a bit warbled in your fluster, but he leaned in anyways. 

“You're taking the force of each blow here—“ his hands reached around, touching your wrists gently where you held the spear in a loose defensive stance, diagonal in front of you. He moved his fingers slowly to cup his hands under your elbows, murmuring, “And here.” You could feel the warmth of his chest pressing against your back. 

He’s helping you visualize the faults in your form, nothing more. 

“Let the full strength of your arms catch the blows,” his index fingers tapped from the crook of the inside of your arm and dragged up for biceps to your shoulders. “Let it come here, and steady it—“ his hands suddenly left your shoulders and you nearly jumped as one hand placed firmly over your abdomen, the other pressing against your back in the same position. “Steady it here, in your core.” 

You felt your abdomen tighten on reflex, only half heartedly acknowledging the fact that his hands were so big that they nearly spanned the entirety of your stomach, from just below your breastband to what would most likely stretch past your navel if he spread his fingers wider. 

“Good, just like that.” He said as he felt your abdomen tense. 

He’s just helping you visualize the correct form, nothing more. Get your mind out of the gutter, you disgusting excuse for a human being. 

“You already carry your stance very well, your legs are always steady but you retain the fluidity to pivot and move without being too stiff, which is wonderful.”

His hands left you as he circled back in front of your gaze, and you found yourself missing their warmth for only a moment before you saw him ready his spear, taking an offensive stance. 

“We will do this as many times as you need to feel satisfied, so please do not push yourself. Breathe with the motions, focus on where the impact is going.” 

Your guts twisted up at his words, and if you could run into the ocean and disappear without looking like an idiot, you probably would. 

Shaking off your degenerate thoughts, you nodded, readying yourself as you prepared to try and use the advice he’d just so thoughtfully given you while you were off in celestia fantasizing about his hands. 

He moved, and so did you. He was kind enough to come at you with the same motions as before, so you could easily move with the same rhythm to focus on the parry itself. 

Both hands, firm grip. Watch the swing of the blade, brace— shoulders, biceps, core— push, follow through, and back!

You stepped back, eyes wide as you felt a pleasant ache in your muscles from being used, but no pain or stinging in your elbows or wrists. 

Zhongli smiled, twirling his pole arm around and readying himself once more. “Incredible, now again!” 

The next thirty minutes flew by in a flurry of clanging metal and heavy breaths, mostly your own. He certainly kept you on your toes, coming on the offensive before suddenly prompting you to attack, taking each of your clunky blows with practiced ease and barely a flutter of his lashes. 

It was during one of these switch ups, where you were on the offensive, when you worked up the nerve to ask a question that’d been eating at you for many weeks now. 

“Zhongli,” you said, striking at his pole arm and taking the reverb of his parry with a back step. “Why did you decide to train me?” 

“I’ve not formally trained someone in a very long time,” he said, gracefully side stepping a strike. “I rather enjoy it.”

”No,” you said, taking a cheap swipe at his feet, only to watch him anticipate the move in its entirety, jumping back and smiling at you like you’d just brought him a cup of tea. “Why did you decide to train me, of all people?” 

“I enjoy spending time with you.” He said simply, eyes glittering as you stumbled, stopping in your tracks before even attempting to strike again. 

You gaped at him, completely unbelieving. 

“What, is it so obscene to imagine I enjoy spending time with a dear friend?” 

“I didn’t t-think,” you sputtered, holding your spear in front of you. “I didn’t think that you…”

He gave you a teasing sort of frown, as if a little saddened by your words, and crossed his arms over his chest, letting his pole arm disappear in a little flutter of sparkles. 

“Come now, you think after sharing that many late night pots of tea with you, that I wouldn’t consider you a friend?” He clicked his tongue against his teeth, shaking his head. Reprimanding, teasing, in that poise way that he did, in that way that made you take it a little easier than if others were to do the same. “Should I be offended that you think so lowly of me?”

Your heart lurched, and you gasped out a quick “no, wait!’ As you let your spear disappear as well, running up to stand in front of him. 

“It’s.. it’s not anything that you did, it's just…” you look up at him, only meeting that gentle gaze that makes you feel so comfortable, it's so familiar, though you’ve spent so much time around him now that it shouldn’t seem odd, but his mere presence made you feel safe somehow, like you could tell him anything. 

You cringed, deciding to just come out and say it. 

“I’m sure you’ve noticed, but I have a— I have a habit of not thinking very highly of myself.” You looked down at your feet, kicking up the sand glimmering in the evening sunset, turning the pale grains a brilliant shade of orange in its glory. 

”I think a part of me always believed I was unworthy of being someone important to you— of being your friend.” 

You felt a gentle pressure at your chin, and raised your head to see Zhongli’s hand outstretched, tilting your gaze up to meet his own. 

It reminded you of the first time you ever saw him, how the sunrise brightened the warm hues of his entire being, making his eyes blaze like pools of liquid gold. 

The pink and purpling sunset over the ocean had the same effect, and the molten amber bore down on you with the weight of something untold— his gaze was so heavy. 

You found yourself thinking once more that he looked like royalty, like a deity, blessing the ground where he stood. He radiated power, that much you knew by now. 

“If anything, I feel as though I am unworthy of being someone so important to you,” he says, and your heart nearly topples out of your chest and into your shaking hands. 

“I know I cannot erase everything that troubles you, but please, never doubt yourself when it comes to me. I do nothing that I do not wish to do, spend my days with no one I do not wish to spend them with.”

You felt pressure behind your eyes, his face starting to blur and warp in the beautiful colors illuminating him. 

“In my core, I am a very selfish man, one might even say rather spoiled, stubborn as stone. No one will ever have the ability to force me to do anything I do not wholeheartedly wish to do. That is how I spend my days. Not out of charity, or pity, or bribery. Simply because I want to.” 

You’re sure you’re nearly vibrating now, eyes welling up with unshed tears as you soak in his words. The heat from his fingers still holding your chin. 

“Even if you still doubt yourself, I shall never give you a reason to doubt me. Do you understand?” 

You nodded, blinking away the fat tears and cringing as they rolled down your face. He clicked his tongue again, making a cooing sort of sound that one might make when consoling a crying child. Despite the way it made your cheeks burn, it was comforting nonetheless.

His hand left your face, and your shoulders slumped as you cried, too overwhelmed to be embarrassed any further. 

“Now, may I hold such a dear friend to comfort her?” 

You nodded again, wrapping your arms around his waist as he pulled you close, holding you tightly to his chest. A whisper of his lips pressed against the top of your head as he hushed you, his warm hands running across your back in soothing motions as he murmured encouragement and soothing little nothings. 

He smelled like the mountains even still, like amber and tea and safety. His embrace was so familiar, so warm, it soothed your worried heart and allowed you to just breathe in relief. He never wavered, never moved to let go, just let you take comfort from him until you were ready to be without it. 

You didn’t think you’d ever be ready. 

——————————————————

Authors Note: send me asks with things you’d like to see from this series? I’m kinda forming the story as I go but I’d love to hear your thoughts :))))

[leejenowrld]

i loved seeing jeno and yn answer those questions, may i ask jenos friends what their first impression of yn is vs now?

thank you! same! and yeah. keep in mind, some of these friends are people you didn’t see in mfal but you will see them in future posts :) whether it’s a fic in the mfal universe or more mfal posts. they’re all friends with jeno! he’s got loads of freinds and he’s introduced them all to yn

jaemin first impression - i thought she was a breath of fresh air to be honest, she made jeno a lot more grounded and i could tell that it was serious for him, i was glad that jeno was finally going for a more down to earth girl. i was quite surprised though as she’s so far from his type, she’s so shy. he usually goes for louder girls.

jaemin’s impression now - she’s a pain in the ass. she talks so much and she’s too loud in bed, jeno’s walls are thin and i loose sleep because of them but i do love her. i’m happy that she makes my best friend happy, they deserve each other and their love is something i want one day. she’s still a breath of fresh air and i’m happy to see the positive impact she has on jenos life

renjun’s first impression - when jeno said he was introducing his girlfriend to us i was surprised because it was a girl who genuinely didn’t talk, she probably said three words in the span of an hour. i was surprised that jeno went for her. she seems friendly but really shy. jeno did warn me that she’d be shy but i didn’t expect her to be that shy

renjun’s impression now - shes calm and chill, i vibe with it, she’s also seemed to calm jeno down which i appreciate, he needed to fall in love and to have someone to ground him or else he’d go insane. she’s gotten a lot more comfortable with us. she’s annoying lol, sometimes i wish we’d go back to the days where she was too shy to talk to any of us. but i gotta say, her and jeno go hard. they’re cute. kind of. their pda and volume in bed gets on my nerves tho.

donghyuck’s first impression - i thought she was a bit weird and rude. when jeno told me he had a girlfriend, i didn’t expect it to be someone like her. no offence but when he introduced her to us she genuinely didn’t talk, she just stayed with jeno and heejin. i could tell that she doesn’t like socialising but come on, make some sort of effort?

donghyuck’s impression now - i love her. she’s got a good heart, she feels and cares a lot. she’s the friend to stand with me when i’m tying my laces. she’s shy at first but when you get to know her, she’s a sweetheart with a massive heart, she talks a bit too much now that we’re friends but eh, i’ll deal with it. i also really ship her and jeno, they’re cute mfs. their love is cute. she brings out the best side in jeno, didn’t think he could be such a sweetheart. they’re kinda hot… i hear what they do in bed. if they ever want a threesome, i volunteer 🙋‍♂️ not that they’d ever… those mfs are too obbessed with each other there’s no one else in their orbit

juyeons first impression - jeno and yn come to one of my parties, she didn’t really talk to anyone much, she stayed with jeno and a few of his friends the whole night. she seemed pretty shy but i was glad to see her let loose at my party. jeno scared me tho, he made me play all her fav songs and ordered all this moscato crap and sushi and yn was the only one to touch it.

juyeon’s impression now - she’s sweet and makes me laugh, she makes jeno happy too. she’s still shy but not as shy as my girl ;) yn doesn’t deserve the shit that some girls give her, like some crazy thing happened to her at one of my parties and it’s unfair

[stalkerofstuff]

So this is just me projecting on Grayson, but here are some headcanons I saw in fics that I now just fully headcanon for him:

He doesn’t really know his gender, or anything similar, he just never thought about it. It never really affected him, who care in the circus?

There all different, no one judges each other.

Then he’s grieving, there’s nothing but their deaths going though his head, then he’s Robin, every one calls him Robin, he’s a vigilante there’s nothing there, etc.

and it just kinda continues, when he’s an adult he realizes he doesn’t know anything about himself it feels.

He’s not trans or born in the wrong body, he likes how he looks but sometimes it just feels off.

Sexuality;

He doesn’t know he likes who he likes what’s up with it? He doesn’t understand why people make it a big deal, so what if he likes Kory and Wally? So what if he dates Babs after, it doesn’t change anything about him.

Tw: talks about sex for this little bit; I do think he could very well be possibly be asexual, or maybe sex repulsed. He has a lot of reasons to be this way, sex in his life has always been a trick.

Someone pretending to be Kory, the roof, etc. But also maybe it feels good to do it with someone you love to replace the feelings of pain and regret with making it something loving once again.

Could he even heal enough for that though? He brushes everything off how can he heal enough for that.

Trauma;

He forgets his trauma is a real thing that he has to deal with, it’s so easy to just focus on something else. To worry, to help someone else.

Someone who needs it more.

But of course, this leads to him minimizing everything,

“oh yeah someone tried to torture me for a week before I escaped and none of you even noticed, but I heard you got stabbed last night, are you okay? The stitches holding up? Banged right?”

Of course he knows he has trauma,

but he forgets that it is real, and actually needs to be processed and healed, and isn’t just there. A thing that happened to him.

Etc.

I could rant about any of these for a while, from the fics I read that I do really like,

in the circus Grayson would sometimes wear a skirt with his leotard, and some days he would throw it to the side and doesn’t want anything to do with it,

And the circus just didn’t ask, didn’t care. So why would Grayson change it?

And I love the idea of him slowly learning that things in the circus where different then put side it, people cared more about little things like who you had a crush on, how you look, etc then they did in the circus. And how much he would struggle,

“Bruce why can’t I wear a skirt? Or even wear one on patrol?”

“Because during patrol it would be in the way. And people might look at you weirdly for wearing a skirt,”

He would say before patting Grayson on the back and leaving, and of course Grayson would be so confused.

Why would they? It’s just a skirt a piece of clothing?

And it would just be interesting, not saying Bruce is transphobic or anything like that, he is just very logical, I don’t think he would read more into it really.

Grayson flew all over, of course he would see some of photos at least of him in a skirt, so Bruce would just think it is something he likes.

So he would just think of it practically, notice how he didn’t say anything about not wearing one at home?

Bruce won’t stop him from wearing something he likes, but he is worried about how his son ward would be viewed.

And of course not want to give him more flowy (?) fabric , that villains could grab him from.

But of course Grayson won’t view it like that.

:}

I don’t know if I used the right words for the like talking but of that but eh-

[musicalmoritz]

do u hc any character on the aro/ace spectrum?

I love this question!! Unfortunately since TBHK is so heavily focused on romance, I don’t have many. Ofc aroace ppl can still date but fandoms tend to ignore the nuance of that statement and put them into relationships without considering what that means for them. I like to look at it a bit deeper because aroace headcanons do have some importance to me. My sister is aroace so every time I see a headcanon for a character being aspec I have to let her know lol. So before I get into this list I just wanted to say to any aroace ppl who see this, I love ya’ll, ya’ll are doing great <3

Nobody murder me, I’m going to explain. Typically I’m not a fan of aroace villains bcuz the trope has some nasty implications. That doesn’t mean no villain character can ever be headcanoned as aroace but I need some very good reasons before sticking with a headcanon like that. And for Tsukasa, I have my reasons!! A lot of fans tend to agree that he shouldn’t be in a relationship with anybody and that used to really annoy me because I don’t like the whole “this character is clearly mentally ill therefore they get no love” thing. I know it goes deeper than that with him being generally abusive but still. Eh. There are people with disorders that make them bad partners and those people are still very capable of getting therapy and improving. Plus most fans who say that claim to love toxic ships to like???

I’m not really a fan of any Tsukasa ships tho (I used to crack ship TsuAoi but those days are over) so I figured I would actually put some effort into giving a reason as to why he doesn’t do relationships. Rather than go the whole “he could hurt other people” route, I wanted to focus more about how Tsukasa himself would feel about dating. And to be honest? I don’t think he’d like it! He’s definitely interested in relationships as a concept but I don’t think he’s the type to take them seriously. I try to use this headcanon to humanize Tsukasa rather than demonizing him like a lot of people do with aroace villain headcanons. Love is very important to him on a platonic level but romance just isn’t his thing. And it creates a nice contrast in fics between him and characters whose lives center so much around romance. My sister actually is the one who introduced me to this hc and every aroace hc she has is law so I abide by it lmao

This one is way more recent but it makes so much sense to me. If you want to talk about characters who are more realistically potentially aroace, Tsuchigomori has never expressed the desire for a love interest in canon. When most adult male characters are single in fiction it’s seen as a problem (at least in a comedic sense), but with Tsuchigomori none of the characters question it. I feel like he has some level of interest in romance, maybe demiromantic?? But overall romantic attraction isn’t something he experiences easily

This one is more based on vibes and me hunting down every TBHK character that doesn’t have an arc connected to romantic attraction. I don’t think he realized it when he was alive because the people in his village didn’t talk about asexuality/aromanticism much. Maybe he thought he was gay but that didn’t quite feel right because his disinterest in women extended to everyone. He seems like the type to love being surrounded by people and be generally very personable, so his platonic relationships are very important to him. Just no romance

I know you specifically asked for aroace characters but I 100% see this man as demiromantic, and maybe demisexual too. Possibly completely asexual, though leaning more towards the positive side of the spectrum (or just neutral). Emotions don’t come easily to this man so love is a complicated subject but I do believe he’s capable of loving people romantically, just under specific circumstances and not in the traditional sense

I hope you liked these headcanons!! I’ve seen some others that interest me too. I once wrote a Sakuhiko request where they were both aroace and queer platonic, that was very fun. I’ve also seen both the Minamoto brothers written as asexual which is cool to me. Tbh I’m open to most types of headcanons unless I see one that inexplicably gives me the ick…but even then I mind my business bcuz I don’t have to agree with every headcanon I see. I may not have many aroace headcanons for TBHK but I have more for other fandoms, completely unrelated but I could write a whole essay on why Jean Valjean is aroace lol

[scoops-aboy86]

🧠🪱Wiggly Wednesday🪱🧠

Thanks for tagging me, @wheneverfeasible!

This is not fully formed at all, I was just listening to For Whom The Bell Tolls earlier and thought “Tolls for Thee” would be a cool fic title and also a good opportunity for a road toll pun. 

Cw for… major character death, I guess? It’s Eddie. 😔 It might be temporary. 

So Eddie gets attacked by the bats at the end of season four. He's proud of himself when he tells Dustin he didn’t run. And yeah, he’s bleeding and crying and dying and doesn’t even get a chance to close his eyes before slipping, but he knows he did the right thing and that makes it *his year.* 

Next thing he knows, he’s in the passenger seat of Wayne’s truck. He recognizes the road; this is the drive they took from where Wayne picked him up after Al’s arrest, heading back to Hawkins. At the time, twelve years old and full of restless frustration at having so little say in his own life (wanted a bike and Al got him one, but then pawned it; wanted to stay in his current school with the couple of friends he’d managed to make since the last move but child welfare had other ideas; wanted a guitar but like hell anyone was ever going to trust his clumsy ass with one; and so on), Eddie had spent the entire ride staring straight ahead at the End Of The Line, Dead End, Hawkins, Indiana. 

The truck pulls up to a toll station, and a familiar voice asks, “Got any change?”

Except, that’s not Wayne. 

Eddie startles and whips his head around to stare at Steve Harrington, looking like he had when driving the hot-wired RV. Still wearing the battle vest and torn shirt bandages, chest distractingly bare. 

“Hey,” Steve says, good-naturedly snapping his fingers in front of Eddie’s face. “My eyes are up here, man. You got any change or not?” When Eddie shakes his head, Steve just shrugs. “Me neither. Well, fuck it!” 

He floors it, tires shrieking as they speed past the booth without paying. And, fuck it, Eddie whoops and laughs along with him. What had he been so tense and sad about a minute ago? 

Oh. Right. 

“Am I dead?” Eddie asks, rolling his window up so there’s less wind to drown out the answer. On the other side of the truck cab, Steve does the same. 

“Eh,” Steve responds, wavering his hand in the air between them in a *kinda sorta* gesture. “It could go either way right now, but.” He nods forward, at the road. “We’re getting there.”

A pit opens in Eddie’s stomach. “We?”

“Well, you.” Steve flashes him an apologetic smile, the kind Eddie had seen in school whenever the guy had called Tommy to heel after something that crossed the line. “I’m just along for the ride. To keep you company, you know? Everyone has to do this alone, but there’s like… this instinct, you know? To have some sort of connection along the way. So, here I am.”

He’s a figment of Eddie’s imagination, then. It figures. Eddie has never had any actual one on one time with Steve except in the bad-dark-wrong version of the woods around Hawkins, displaced into a hostile alternate dimension and crawling with Vecna vines. Which maybe explains the choice in outfit, and the smudges of dirt and blood on the guy. 

“Sorry,” Eddie mutters anyway. Even though it’s not really Steve, and he can’t really apologize for the way he’s left Dustin holding his dying body. It does make him feel a little better, is the thing—which is the whole point. Closure. “You told me not to be a hero, and I guess I kind of fucked that up.”

“You sure did,” Steve says, sounding both amused and exasperated at the same time. 

“Still,” Eddie adds thoughtfully, “at least the company’s not too bad.” 

That’s all I’ve got. Maybe they hold hands for a bit. Maybe they get to the end of the line and before Eddie gets out of the truck he kisses Steve—which turns into Steve giving him the kiss of life back in the land of the living and Eddie is in the back of some vehicle that’s just pulling up to the ER. 

Who knows? Not me. Someone else write the rest, I’m tired. 

So tired I’m just gonna do my permanent tag list and call it a night. If you’re not so much with the writing, tell me a wiggly worm of something you’d like to read, idk. (Don’t say more of this, that’s cheating. 😭)

@hotluncheddie @lawrencebshoggoth @sofadofax @irishvampireboy @oatmilk-vampire

@hamiltonswiftie @grtwdsmwhr @yesdangerpls @theseaofdespair

[gaybananabread]

Hey! Could I get a ATSV fic, with lee!miguel, and ler!peter b, with a side of cherries? Could I also get a receipt? (/j)

Fruit(s): Cherries

Oooooh these two! Tired “old” men club time! I’m gonna be entirely honest, a pic on Pinterest inspired this entire thing. Got an idea and abselutely ran with it aghshrara… YEAh I’m not running off much sleep but eh. Sorry for any characterization goofs; my brain is fighting existence. Thank you for requesting, and I hope you Enjoy!

Lee: Miguel

Lers: Peter B. Parker, brief Mayday

Summary: Peter brings Mayday to the base for the twenty-millionth time, letting her wander around Miguel’s office. Turns out the beefcake is her favorite thing to climb on. When the young spider girl reminds him of one of Miguel’s quirks, Peter makes sure the grumpy old man has a laugh. 

Warnings: none! This is a tickle fic, so if you don’t like that, scroll away!!

If there was one thing Peter did that got on Miguel’s nerves, it was when he let his kid wander everywhere like she owned the place. He had already made sure it was fine for him to bring the toddler around, but the solemn man never could’ve predicted just how often that would be. As in, he never saw the middle-aged spider without a baby carrier strapped to his chest.

Besides the obvious safety hazards, it tugged at Miguel’s heart strings to see the little girl running around. She was so happy, so care-free, so full of life… He couldn’t help but reminisce. For anyone who doesn’t know Miguel, let me explain: when he reminisced, he was a grumpy, angsty bastard.

That day was one of many where Peter brought Mayday to the base, the red-headed toddler zipping and twipping around Miguel’s office. The boisterous father greeted Miguel, a wide smile on his face as he showed Miguel many repetitive pictures of the kid that was literally two feet away from him. Still, he managed to bite his tongue, only looking down at the phone with an unamused frown.

“Oh, oh, you’ve gotta see this one; she’s so focused! I knew she’d love those- uh… Miguel, c’mon. You look like I’m holding you at gunpoint to watch paint dry.” 

Peter lowered the phone, his hand moving to rest on his hip as he viewed Miguel’s tired face. He just scoffed, giving Peter a look that said “I’m so done with you” to the max. “Peter, the kid is right there. I don’t need the digital scrapbook experience.”

Mayday chose that moment to swing over to the two men, landing on Miguel’s shoulder and swinging her tiny feet. His heart both filled and squeezed at the sweet action. 

Rolling his eyes, Peter put his phone completely away. Scrapbook… He’d have to remember that one, even if it was just sarcasm. 

“I’m not asking you to jump for joy at every photo. Just crack a smile or two, ya grump!” He tried poking Miguel’s side, only to get his wrist snatched and a deathly glare shot at him. Peter quickly retracted his hand, holding both up in surrender. Mayday giggled at the silly exchange, her beanie sliding as she wiggled about.

The toddler used her powers to stick to Miguel, crawling across him because she could; toddler logic doesn’t need to make sense. She was just having fun! The tot shivered, the cool air of the office sending goosebumps across her skin. Mayday grabbed onto his side, snuggling into the warm crook of his arm.

Miguel huffed when he felt the small girl on his side, trying not to smile as he grabbed for her. She whined, using her powers to stay stuck on him. Not wanting to hurt Mayday, he sighed and turned back to Peter. He motioned towards his side, a restrained look on his face. “Little help here?”

Peter chuckled, seeing his daughter snuggle up to Miguel. “Nah, you seem all good. She’s just snuggling with you, what’s up?”

He glared at his friend, though there wasn’t much he could say. There was no way he was gonna admit that her small hands were tickling him; Peter would never let him live it down. He scowled, instead choosing the “be an asshole” route. “I don’t want your kid climbing on me. You have a baby carrier for a reason; use it.”

Seriously? Peter rolled his eyes, looking at his daughter. She seemed so peaceful, all cozy against Miguel’s side; he felt bad moving her. Still, he had to respect Miguel’s wishes, even if they were cruel. “Fine, fine! Don’t get your fangs in a twist…” 

Walking over to the grumpy spider-man, Peter reached out to grab his daughter. She whined, clinging tighter to Miguel’s side and nuzzling her fuzzy head against his ribs. 

A short huff escaped the stoic man, the corners of his mouth tugging upwards. He squirmed, finally grabbing onto the small child and trying to tug her off. “Maldita sea- Peter, grab her!” 

“Hey, language!” His voice sounded…giddy? What was…oh. Mayday was tickling him. She was grabbing his side and brushing his ribs. “Awwww, Miggy! Is little Mayday-”

“Don’t.” Miguel gave Peter the fiercest glare he could manage, though it was put off by the ghost of a smile on his lips. There was no way in hell Peter was gonna back off after that. 

Shooting forwards, Peter grabbed Miguel’s arrm, shooting a web up and restraining it. The big man would’ve thrashed and reversed their positions, but he didn’t want to risk hurting Mayday; he was pretty much screwed.

Peter wasted no time; if Miguel gained his footing, Peter was so done for. The man grabbed Miguel’s side, spidering his fingers against Miguel’s stomach. The man bit his lip, trying both to keep Mayday secure and hold in his giggles at the same time. 

“P-Peter, I swehear- GYAH!” Miguel jolted as he felt a squeeze to his hip, almost dropping his hold on Mayday. Peter smirked, leaning forwards and continuing to mess with Miguel’s hips. “Oh, sorry Miguel. Did that tickle~?”

That little… Peter was so dead when he got out of that. Much to his dismay, he could feel a red hue burning on his cheeks as he laughed. “PEHETER! IHI’M GONNA- MIERDA!” Trying to keep a steady hold on Mauday while having his hips squeezed was a lot harder than he thought it would be…

“Miguel, c’mon. There’s a kid right here, watch your mouth.” Peter was only half-faking his exasperation. True, he was kinda being a jerk, but Mayday didn’t need to learn how to cuss in any more languages.

Mayday giggled, feeling Miguel’s chest shake as he laughed. She was used to her dad being silly, but Miguel? Never, ever had she heard him laugh like that. Wanting to join in on the fun, she copied her dad, squeezing and scribbling on his ribs.

While there was barely any pressure, her tiny hands still tickled. Miguel jerked, losing his grip on the girl in surprise. Mayday wasn’t even phased; she just hung on with her powers, Mayday giggled at his squirming, thoroughly enjoying herself in the silliness.

Peter kept watch of his daughter in the corner of his eye, making sure she wouldn’t fall. Miguel probably wouldn’t kill him. It was all in good fun, and he neecded a laugh anyway. Sure, his revenge would be…interesting, but it was worth it.

“Wow, look how red you are! I thought Miles was resident tomato face, but looks like you’re givin’ him a run for his money~” Peter continued to tease his friend, knowing his comments would get to the man. It was too easy to tease Miguel like this; later was what most people worried about. Peter had no fears, though; Miguel wouldn’t kill him…probably.

“SHUHUT UHUP!” Miguel twisted and tugged at the webs, nearly breaking through them. He could only take so much of the other man’s silliness. “PEHEHETER! GEHET OHOFF MEHEHE!”

While he could tell Miguel was getting sick of him, Peter wasn’t quite ready to stop. The blush on Miguel’s face was quite endearing, only egging the father on. True, he couldn’t control it, but eh. “I think I just got a new favorite color! Miguel’s-blush red~” 

The angsty spider growled through his laughter, already plotting his revenge in his head. Mayday laughed, deciding she’d played around enough for one day. The girl climbed off of Miguel, using her small webshooter to sit on a ledge and watch the goofy old men interact.

The moment Mayday was safely off him, Miguel turned the tables. He yanked his wrist free from the webbing, grabbing Peter and pinning him to the wall. It was almost scary how fast that man could recover… Peter went to make a joke, though it died in his throat. “Hey, at least…buy me…ehe. Uh, truce?” He gulped, looking at Miguel’s smirk and determined eyes. Eugh boi… Still blushing, though.

“Es hora de morir, Peter~” Before Peter could protest any further, Miguel dug his claws into the man’s stomach, squeezing and scratching the squishy flesh. Peter shrieked, not at all prepared for his due penance.

Mayday watched as they messed around, giggling and tilting her head. She had grabbed her dad’s discarded robe, snuggling up into it and getting warm. Those two would likely be at it for a while, and she was more than happy to watch the two laugh. Silly boys…

[cer-rata]

Fic WIP(maybe): "World's Okayest"

"So," Conrad started, eyes bright and excited, "I think the three of us are like, a thing."

Jon slowly turned away from the diner’s window to look at him, mostly in horror and confusion. Mostly. "...W-what? You...you're not suggesting...what?"

"Like, you know, Batman and Superman and Wonder Woman. The big three."

Jon let out a sigh of relief. "Oh. oh okay, I thought you were trying to say--"

Damian snorted. "Yeah, considering what Conrad writes in his spare time, maybe you shouldn't relax so quickly."

"DAMIAN!"

Jon blinked. "...Conrad--"

"Don't listen to him! He's evil and he lies and--"

"He's quite prolific." Damian laughed as Conrad missed him with a thrown French fry.

Jon shook his head. "I don't even want to know. Um. Conrad, where were you going with--"

"Oh! Right! Before SATAN took the wheel--I dunno, I just think we work together pretty well, maybe we should do it more consistently.”

“I’d like that.” Jon really did enjoy spending time with them, even when they were getting shot at.

Damian shrugged. “I mean, I don’t think we need to imitate those old bags and Diana, but sure.”

“But I don’t think it’s imitating, it’s pretty natural. Jon is ‘Angry Superman--’”

“Hey!”

“You’re ‘GNC Wonder Woman--’”

“Wh-wait--”

“And I’m ‘The Batman Who Fucks.’”

Damian stared at him. “...Are you insane?”

“Yes, that is exactly why I’m Batman.”

Jon snorted and covered his mouth.

“Conrad, there is no way--” Damian leaned in angrily, “How the hell am I not Batman?”

“Batman is scary. I’m scary. You’re not scary.”

“I beg your pardon?!”

“If both of us are dangling someone off of a roof, which one of us might actually drop them?”

Jon looked mildly alarmed. “...Neither of you? Right?”

Damian groaned. “...Okay, but that’s not a good--Batman doesn’t kill people!”

“I never said I’d allow them the release of death. But see, right now: You’re even-tempered, relatively normal, patient even though I am going out of my way to irritate you--that’s Diana, bro.”

“Are you saying I’m Diana because you think I’m boring?!”

“No, Diana’s not boring, you being boring has nothing to do with it.”

Damian sighed and leaned back in his seat. “Oh, Conrad. Conrad, Conrad, Conrad…”

Jon looked back and forth between them a couple of times. “Wait, are you guys actually arguing or--”

Conrad turned to make eye contact with him and smiled. “The trick is to get him ready to kill you. He won’t, so he has to resort to something else and--hey, no, D, your side of the booth is over there, across from me where I’m safe--”

Ah no, it was flirting then. Again.

Damian slid into the booth next to him, and Conrad scooted over into Jon, who didn’t budge at all and just watched with amusement and maybe something a little more…sour.

Conrad laughed and curled up against him. “Damian, I’m sorry!” 

Damian slid closer, appearing perfectly relaxed and normal when compared to Conrad’s giggly hysterics. “What’s wrong, beloved? I’m not doing anything.”

“Oh no! You only call me that when you’re worried or I’m in trouble!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Conrad squeaked and pressed his cheek into Jon’s shoulder. “Sammy, help!”

Conrad was the only person Jon would let call him by his middle name. He even liked it, actually. He tried not to ponder that, but failed, and his smile started to wilt. His guts felt tight. “Eh, I think…I think you’re fine…”

Conrad sat straight up so quickly that he and Damian knocked foreheads. “Fuck, my bad--”

“Ow! Why!?”

“Sorry, I just…” He turned to look at Jon. “What…what happened?”

Jon stared at him. “...What?”

“You just uh…you got a little…uh…” Conrad suddenly looked trapped and Jon couldn’t figure out what on Earth that was about.

Damian leaned over to look at him too and raised an eyebrow. “That’s...just a Midwestern thing, Conrad, they always look a little lost.”

“I’m not from the--” Jon made eye contact with Conrad again, and caught the violet flash of his irises. Then Conrad nodded gently and turned back to Damian.

“Ah, I guess you’re right. You can go back to mauling me if you want.”

Damian shook his head. “No, you killed my momentum, I’ve added it to my bank of cruelty and spite to be spent later at my leisure.” 

The lunch went on from there, their rambunctiousness settling some. Still, that look Conrad gave him, combined with the glow of his eyes unsettled Jon a bit. Did he get a vibe from him? What would he even have felt that would alert Conrad? Sure, he was a little queasy for a moment but…

“...Okay but the problem is, I wasn’t planning to make my next moniker a front-facing one.” Damian explained. “The ‘Trinity' thing is mostly for the public to have something to cling to, and well, frankly to make my father seem less…like a terrorist.”

“But I’ve seen the costume you’re thinking of, babe, if you’re trying to be hidden, why the red and white and the big yellow ‘I’ on your chest? And it glows?”

“Symbols are important--” 

“But it all suggests that you want people to be aware of you.”

Damian sighed. “It’s a complicated…thing.” He paused. “I don’t want to scare civilians, but I also don’t really want to be paraded around as some symbol of morality. I don’t think I can be that.”

Conrad shrugged. “I mean I’m on lunch boxes now, and I’m…maybe a little less…restrained than you are.”

“Which you’re working on.”

“It’d be easier if you’d start restraining me inst--”

“Jon is sitting right there!’

“Fuck, right, sorry buddy.”

Jon waved them off and took a long drink of his soda and desperately wished it was socially acceptable to anxiety crunch on glass in public. 

Conrad’s gaze lingered on him again before he continued. “...I’m working on it, yeah. But like…my point is that no one has a problem with me, why should you need to be sneaky?”

“Because…because I’m good at it, I was trained to be precise and quiet and--”

“You really should lean more in Dick’s direction.” Jon said. “He’s still intimidating and civilians love him.”

Damian looked away and Jon heard him swallow. “I…I’m not inspiring like that.”

Conrad growled and angrily called Damian a word only he could say, which caused Jon to gasp and Damian to flinch. “--please, if I weren’t so inspired by you, I’d have probably turned into hotter, more effective, cooler, funnier, more stylish, significantly scarier Red Hood.”

“Well…well…we can’t rely on the general public being bewitched by me.”

“Cause you’re too much of a little bitch for a crop top--ah! No! Stahahahahp! Damian!”

Jon closed his eyes and sighed while the ‘Lovebirds’ went at it again. He found himself wishing that Jack or even Lor was there, and then with horror realized that not going for Darla instead probably implied something. He could only be so avoidant, he wasn’t Damian. Ugh. It wasn’t even that he couldn’t see her that way, on occasion he did--but it wasn’t the same energy, which was probably good, because having some form of distracting emotional entanglement with everyone he worked with sounded like a horrible time. Still, watching Conrad giggle while Damian’s hands roamed around with a playfulness that Jon had apparently never earned from his best friend made him feel some sort of way. He acknowledged that was maybe…a little gay. 

Maybe he was a little gay. 

Jon groaned loudly enough that the couple stopped what they were doing and looked over at him.

“...Jonathan, is something actually wrong?”

“No!”

Conrad managed to steady his breathing. “C’mon dude, we’re your friends, I can’t have two emotionally constipated--”

“I think I like boys!”

Damian looked completely blindsided, and maybe a little afraid. Conrad looked kind of…guilty?

“Oh. Um.” Damian’s eyes flicked around rapidly like he was desperately searching his brain for something. “Uh…exclusively?”

Jon dropped his face into his hands, muffling his words into his palms. “I dunno! I don’t think so! I think Darla is really pretty, and Devyn, and Kathy--”

“Still?” Conrad didn’t manage to keep the disappointment out of his voice.

“Shut up!

Damian raised an eyebrow. “Who is Devyn?”

“Oh, she’s just a girl at my school. So like, I think girls are pretty, and I think if any of them asked me out, I’d probably say yes, but also--”

“You’re somewhat attracted to all of your friends, and the the intensity varies.” Conrad finished quietly, sounding ashamed like he was revealing that he’d eaten the last cookie after all.

Jon bit his cheek and looked away. “...Something like that.” 

Damian sat with that for a moment. “...So you’re actually ‘Disastrous Bi-Panic Superman.’”

That was dumb enough to snap Jon out of the beginnings of a spiral, and he laughed. “I hate you.”

Damian smiled. “So Kathy is the last one of us to only do things as God intended.” 

Jon pursed his lips. “Uhhh…no, I think she’s ace, actually.”

Conrad shook his head. “No, no, Kathy just doesn’t like humans.”

Jon blinked. “Wait, really?”

Conrad nodded. “Yeah, she said she’s ‘not a monster fucker.’”

Damian nodded sagely. “Wise.”

Jon squinted. “I don’t…Kathy looks just like us--well okay she’s really green, but otherwise--”

“I don’t think you mom’s a monsterfucker, if that’s what you’re getting at.” Conrad offered. Jon was impressed that it sounded like he genuinely thought that sentence would be comforting. 

“Okay! Okay violently moving on--”

“Oh. OH!” Damian sat up a little straighter. “That’s why you always wear skinny jeans, despite them being a number of years out of fashion! It’s an expression of your flammable nature.”

Jon blushed. “Wh--flammable--”

“Babe, skinny jeans are coming back.”

“You lie.”

“It’s kind of a ten year cycle for popular items.”

“But skinny jeans? Really?”

“You’d look great in skinny jeans.”

“I look great in everything. I could wear Vandal Savage like a coat and make it...what, make it fashion? That doesn’t mean he’s valid.”

They both startled at the loud crunch Jon made when he bit directly into his glass.

[everybodyshusband]

this is technically a request fill for a couple of anons but turned into what's basically a vent fic, so i didn't feel comfortable wasting your requests on it. to those anons, your requests will be filled properly at some point, i promise.

cw for self-hatred, and desires of self-harm and suicidal thoughts while regressed. please also be aware that there is one line where rain considers killing an animal because he's so angry. this work is not suitable for regressed kiddos or littles.

but ! without further ado, 2.2k words of rain trying to hide his regression from dew and having a breakdown about it under the cut.

“Rain?”

The water ghoul looks up from his bass at the sound of Dewdrop’s voice, carefully schooling his expression into something typical of how he acts when he isn’t regressed; when he’s normal, his brain unhelpfully supplies. He clears his throat, giving himself a little more time to prepare himself for the conversation ahead. “Hey, sundew. What’s up?”

The words come out easier than he expected them to, but it still feels so wrong. He’s not supposed to talk like that, he’s not supposed to direct the conversation. He’s supposed to crawl into Dewdrop’s arms and let himself be held and loved, but he can’t. Can’t, because he has so much to do today. Has so many assigned duties on top of everything else he’s wanted to get done all week. He can’t focus on any of it if he’s regressed, so if he pretends to be fine—to be normal—then maybe he’ll be able to do what he needs to.

He’s jolted out of his head by Dewdrop’s voice. “Want a practice partner? I– I’m kinda struggling with some of the solos…”

The hesitation in the fire ghoul’s tone immediately sets Rain on edge. Dewdrop needs comforting, he thinks, but that’s not something the water ghoul is able to do when he’s regressed; not well, at least. Still, Rain tries. He smiles what he hopes is a regular, reassuring smile and reaches an arm out, ushering Dewdrop to sit down next to him. The gestures come to him easily. It’s a relief, but he can’t help the small voice in the back of his mind telling him the reason he’s able to pretend to be normal is because he pretends to be regressed.

(Which isn’t true. He knows it’s not. It’s proven by night curled up in Swiss’ arms, unable to murmur even a single word because he’s just too small to do anything else. By all the times he hasn’t been able to function without someone holding his hand, guiding him through the day. Alas, it’s never been something he can stop thinking. That he’s a fraud; so desperate for the attention of his packmates that he’s resorted to lying, deceiving them, in order to gain a shred of affection, a kind word here and there.)

The fire ghoul grins happily and sets himself up quickly, eyeing the music on Rain’s stand to gauge where he should flip to in his own music. “Rats, eh?”

“Mhmm, wa– Rats.” He turns away from Dewdrop, cheeks burning as he clears his throat and attempts to brush the slip off as something catching in his throat. “Good bassline. Hard when you haven’t played it in months, though.”

Dewdrop hums in agreement. “Mmm, I can imagine.” He fidgets with the tuning pegs, tilting his head in Rain’s direction, silently asking for a note to match. Rain obliges. “D’you wanna start from the start, or…?”

“Start’s fine,” Rain smiles. He knows the start best, he’ll be able to do it, he’s sure. He can ignore the brain fog. He can pretend. For Dewdrop, he can pretend. The fire ghoul seemed insecure and burdened enough when he asked to run through the solos. He doesn’t need Rain’s regressed headspace making anything more difficult for him. “Uhm…” he begins, unsure; failing already. “B– Backing track?” He stutters on the B and the K is over pronounced in compensation of his difficulty with the letter, but Dewdrop understands—and more importantly, he doesn’t seem to notice.

“I think we’ll be fine, right, Rainy?” He turns to smile at the water ghoul, eyes so soft and gentle, but there’s something underneath his tone that makes Rain fumble his bass.

“W– Why are you calling me ‘Rainy’ like that? You only say it like that when I’m… small.”

Dewdrop’s smile falters slightly, but his eyes remain warm. Kind. “Well, you can tell me if I’m wrong, but I thought you might’ve been feeling a bit small, love. Am I right?”

Rain readjusts his bass on his hip, refusing to meet Dewdrop’s eyes. “N– No… I– I feel fine,” he lies. “Normal. ‘M good. Promise.” He knows Dewdrop doesn’t believe him, but he can’t help but hope that maybe he’s convinced the fire ghoul. After all, Dewdrop has things to do today as well. He can’t blow off a whole day just to help Rain. Rain can��t ask him to do that.

“Are you sure, puddle? You’re not just telling me that because you feel bad about being small?”

“...Oh. Uhm… N– No?” Rain does his best to sound convincing but he knows there’s no persuading Dewdrop now, not when he already knows.

Dewdrop fixes him with a look, still adoring, but stern. “It’s not nice to lie, my love.”

And just like that, Rain’s facade crumbles.

His eyes fill with tears as he curls in on himself, hugging his bass tightly to his body. “I– I’m sorry, Dewy,” he cries. “I– I didn’ mean to! I’m sorry sorry, I’m really, very sorry. I didn’ mean to lie, ‘m sorry!”

He rocks back and forth, doing his best to self-soothe but it’s not working. He doesn’t know how to calm down. Doesn’t really know why his reaction to Dewdrop’s gentle chiding is a breakdown. He knows the fire ghoul was only trying to nudge him out of his pretences but he can’t help but listen to the voice in his head that whispers softly, cruelly.

He hates you for lying to him. He’s never going to talk to you again.

You got too comfortable with him. Shared too much. He doesn’t want to take care of you. He only does it to have an excuse to tell you what you’re doing wrong.

Such a burden to him. To the pack. Why can’t you just stop regressing? Just stop it. Stop being so small. Stop being so fucking weak.

He lets out a panicked yelp when Dewdrop reaches out to comfort him. “Nuh uh! Don’t touch me. I– I don’ deserve it.”

“Wh–” Dewdrop flounders.

That means it’s true; Rain doesn’t deserve it. He curls in on himself even further; he shouldn’t have said anything. Should have kept it to himself. Should have left the room the second Dewdrop entered it. Should have thought about someone other than himself and his own pathetic, useless needs for once.

“What makes you think that, Rainy?”

“Liar get punish,” he parrots as accurately as he can manage. “Only good boy get to be touch.”

“Oh, love…” Dewdrop sounds so disappointed. Rain braces himself for the inevitable. “That’s our rule for when you’re big and we, uhh…” He trails off, clearly unsure of how to phrase what he needs to say. Rain wishes he could rid the fog from his head enough to be able to reassure Dewdrop that he’s okay; it was just a slip of his mouth that made him say that, it’s not what he really thinks. But if he says that, it’s only fuelling the fire, and he’ll be punished more for lying; he’ll punish himself for lying. “Look, Rainy, love,” the fire ghoul tries again. “My point is that those rules don’t apply to you right now. They’re only there for when you’re big and we have our… Our special playtimes, yeah?” Dewdrop cringes at the words special playtimes and Rain knows exactly why; the phrase sounds so forced. He hates that Dewdrop feels the need to mince his words around Rain when he’s like this, as if the water ghoul doesn’t retain his understanding of the world and his own life when he regresses.

“You– You don’ like special playtime?” Rain’s goading Dewdrop into giving him an answer that he’ll hate, that will make him feel worse, he knows he is. But as long as the fire ghoul doesn’t notice, Rain doesn’t care. He deserves to feel bad, he knows that much. But he doesn’t feel bad enough, and it’s going to be hard to sink himself down to the level of bad that he deserves with Dewdrop watching his every move.

“No, no, Rainy,” he disagrees quickly. Too quickly, Rain thinks. “I love our special playtimes. I love them a lot, I promise. But… I don’t think this is something we should be talking about when you’re little, okay? We can talk about it when you’re big again if you want to, though.”

“O– Okay…” Rain’s heart sinks. It’s always like this. The very nature of their ghoul pack results in him being left out of most things when he’s little. Sometimes he doesn’t mind, and he’s more than content to sit with one of his packmates and fill some colouring sheets with bright pencil markings or curl up in their arms and drift off to sleep. But other times? His pack’s refusal to include him in certain activities or conversations feels less like protection and more like a poor disguise of their hatred of him, of their unwillingness to involve him in pack affairs. He understands, really, he does. He knows that when he’s regressed, there are things he shouldn’t be exposed to. Knows that when his pack are frustrated with him, he’s rarely the one at fault, just the one unlucky enough to bear the brunt of their frustration, no matter how much they try to hide it for his sake. But he also knows that the pack’s exclusion of him is because they don’t like him. Don’t enjoy his presence in any of the forms it takes. Don’t care about him enough to hide their annoyance, despite knowing their frustration directed at him can cause him to spiral so intensely that he barely remembers the rest of the day. He knows all of this, but nothing makes it hurt any less.

If he were in a better state of mind, he might reach out to Dewdrop and ask to be held for a while. Might sob and scream and cry until there aren’t any tears left but it would be okay, because he’d be safe in the fire ghoul’s arms. As it is, he can’t. He tells himself he doesn’t want to, which is true, in part. There’s a part of him desperately fighting to run away from Dewdrop, to refuse to ask for comfort, to never be a burden, never show weakness because otherwise he won’t love you anymore and you’ll be all alone all over again. The other part longs for comfort, regardless of the negative impact he knows it will have on his relationship with Dewdrop. He wants to be held, wants to be reassured that it’s okay to cry, that it’s okay because Dewdrop’s got him and he’s never letting go, never leaving. And so, he finds himself at an impasse and so angry at himself that he wants to punch something. Scream. Break his arm. Kill one of Copia’s rats. Kill himself.

The only benefit to being regressed that he can think of right now is that if he screams, no one bats an eye; all too accustomed to toddlers throwing tantrums that they don’t seem to care. And so when Dewdrop tentatively reaches an arm out, testing the waters to see whether Rain is ready for touch, the water ghoul screams. And he does it properly.

He doesn’t know how long he screams for before stopping, but once he stops, his throat is raw and aching in the silence of the room. He’s curled in on himself on the floor—bass discarded somewhere off to the side, hopefully in one piece—surrounded by pleasant warmth and pressure. Slowly, he realises that he’s wrapped up in Dewdrop’s embrace, and he begins to panic all over again, throat refusing to make another sound dispute his frantic attempts.

A warm hand cards through his hair, soft voice shushing him gently. “If you really want me to let go, Rainy, I will,” Dewdrop reassures him. “But I don’t want to let go, love. I want to help you, and I don’t want to leave you alone like this, okay?”

Rain turns his head and buries himself against Dewdrop’s chest, sobbing quietly. His emotional regulation for the day has been used up, and he knows that any and all emotions he feels for the rest of the day—or week, probably—will be on full display for everyone to see, no matter how much he wants to hide them. He finds himself nodding along to the fire ghoul’s words without his own brain’s permission. It’s impossible to deny for any longer that he wants comfort—he needs it so desperately it may as well be oxygen at this point—but he can’t bring himself to ask for it. He knows he doesn’t deserve it, and he knows that he’ll only feel worse later as a result of talking to Dewdrop and receiving his love and affections, but for now, that’s a problem for future Rain. Right now, all he really cares about is curling up in Dewdrop’s arms and soaking in the gentle comfort that the fire ghoul seems to be so good at providing him when he’s like this.

He doesn’t feel better about it, and he knows he’s not going to. To be honest, he doesn’t even want to try to feel better about it. But now that he’s here, he’ll accept the comfort of gentle caresses and chaste forehead kisses that Dewdrop seems intent on gifting to him. He’ll work on not feeling even worse about the fire ghoul’s affections another time.