#even though he was much older by the series' start he was more dependent on others because those self sufficiency instincts werent needed
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witchnordemon · 1 year ago
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They sat with curiosity as Golden Guard replied to them, and slight confusion as they watched his ears do that thingy again, which only compounded when he started getting fidgety. Sometimes - rarely, really - Philip got a little twitchy-witchy when he was fibbing, but... there was nothing for Golden Guard to be fibbing about, right? So that didn't make any sense... urgh. They wished mortals weren't so confusing.
Oh. And now he was apologizing to him... and about something the Collector himself had felt before. Huh. He didn't know how to respond right, not really, but...
❝ ... lots of people don't like me asking a lot of questions, either. ❞ He offered quietly, unsure of why it was hard to get out, and even more unsure of why he couldn't seem to find any more words to say afterwards. He was especially grateful when the conversation shifted this time.
Embarrassment (at his assumption of Golden Guard asking something completely different than he really had) was quickly squashed by bafflement. ❝ The Boiling Sea? ❞ He repeated, incredulously. ❝ I've never heard of that. The Sparkling Sea was the sea all around the... you know, most of the land the Titans lived on... the Boiling Sea? ❞ He repeated yet again, as though he couldn't comprehend it, ❝ ...where are we? ❞ He asked, though he didn't give enough time for the Grimwalker to respond initially, as he quickly continued blurting out more of his stream of consciousness ❝ There's a whole 'nother sea out there, and you fell in it? ❞
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They clasped a hand in their opposite palm and contemplated for a moment. A lot of mortals' planets had a sea, some planets even seemed to have lots of seas. They'd never heard of the Boiling Sea in all their free time on the Isles... which meant they must be really far away right now from where they'd been sealed away. Where on this planet could they even be?
Collector was (gladly) snapped out of his troubled pondering as Golden Guard started asking about Titans again. ❝ Oh, well - twenty to fiftyish years isn't a long time, and they're not big big yet, but they can go out and be okay if they want to, or need to. ❞ He clarified. ❝ Most don't need to or want to, because they're safer and happier with other Titans, but some of them do, and they're alright if they do. ❞ He shrugged. It wasn't a shocker to know he related to the Titans in many ways, and this was one of them - he was a lot younger than the other Collectors, and missed them a lot of the time, but... well, he had Philip, and now he had a friend in this new Grimwalker, so... he was okay.
❝ Most Titans start foraging when they're pretty young. It's like an.. an.. instick. ❞ They suggested, repeating what they vaguely remember hearing from years and years past. ❝ Most Titans can search for their own food as soon as they can walk on four legs, so... ❞ They looked back down at their hands, counting off a few fingers, ❝ ...two years... five years? ❞ They shrugged. ❝ They can't hunt yet, but they can find bugs and fruit and other stuff. ❞
He drummed his fingers against one another. ❝ ...Titans are really incredible, hardy critters. They can do so many amazing things all on their own from the time they're really little, even though they usually don't need to if they have a family group. But- but they still can if they have to, and that's so cool! A lot of the stuff they do is... it's just instickshual. ❞
His ears perked up, just a little, as the Collector confirmed that he in fact loved questions. Relief flooded through him. "Oh." He wasn't in trouble. He wasn't going to be in trouble, for asking too many questions or irrelevant questions. The Collector was enjoying his questions.
Which then made his ears dip down once again. He had ruined it. Oh, titan. Would they be annoyed at him for that? He pressed the side of the pen tight against his ankles and rubbed it up and down against them, something to deal with the anxiety that filled him.
He did not look at them as he quietly said, once more, "Sorry. I didn't mean to- People don't usually like me asking a lot of questions. I didn't mean to ruin things. The conversation was good." He'd liked it, a lot. It was fun. And then he'd ruined it.
This Philip guy really was losing out on not asking questions, though. The Collector knew so much. He would be an incredible resource of knowledge, and he was very willing to share it. Why not take advantage of that?
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As they started to explain what a sea was, Valor looked up at them in offended bewilderment. "What? No, that wasn't- I know what a sea is, Collector. We're surrounded by one, and I've fallen into the Boiling Sea more than once. I've just- I've never heard of the Sparkling Sea before. Where is that?"
The explanation of why it was called the Sparkling Sea was interesting, though. "Don't all large bodies of water sparkle in the sunlight? Is it even more so than that?" It must have been, if staring at it when the sun was at its highest could blind you.
Hm. He no longer entirely felt he was going to lose it if he let go of his pen for too long, but that didn't mean he wanted to let go of it either. He'd have to find some other way to relieve the anxiety then, and those other ways would be way more obvious.
It was fine. He'd just. Constantly go over what the Collector told him so that he could remember it when he could write it down.
Their frown was something he assumed to be related to trying to remember how long it took for titans to become adults, or trying to do math related to it.
"Only twenty to fifty years?" He'd have expected longer, what with how small they started and how big they could get. Though the fact that they never stopped growing . . . That was fascinating. He wondered if they ever got too big for anything they could eat to properly sustain them. He wondered how long they tended to live. He wondered if dying of old age was synonymous with dying of starvation.
He did not ask the Collector these questions. He was still being careful about how many he asked at once, and he still had other, more pleasant questions. "How, um, how long would it take them to forage on their own? Not- Not leaving the nest on their own, but like . . . not needing others to find food for them."
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dilf-docs · 1 month ago
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"Call It What You Want" Series: Drabbles. In today's episode, Y/n L/n goes on a Chicken Shop Date! ft. Amelia Dimoldenberg
Set: Before the first part of the CIWYW series Warnings: None. Just lousy comedy. I'm sorry Word count: 974 words
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"So, I heard a rumor"
You pop a fry into your mouth. "Gotta be more specific with that"
"That you like older men" she replies back in an instant. You almost choke on your fry. Almost. You're quick to recover, taken back still.
"Oh, that" you let out a laugh. "I suppose it's true"
You think back about one of your most liked instagram posts, an old one. A graphic t-shirt with the front spelling I Love Dilfs, a red heart in the middle. Pedro had teased you about it, to which you replied: Are you stalking me?
"Why not older women?" she questions, and your eyes go wide at it. You've never been one to label yourself, especially not online.
"You aren't old, Amelia"
Her character falters a bit at your comeback.
"Did you just called me old?" she jabs. "I can poison your nuggets"
"Well" you reply, "it would be a bit weird that I thought about other people while we're on a date, right?"
She contains a laugh.
"I'd say then, that you have good taste" she bites a nugget. You bite yours. "Can I ask one thing, though?"
"Sure" you lean forward, then look at the camera, pleading, "as long as it's not about my dating life-"
Finding out who you were dating was one of the Internet's favorite topics. It went wild every time a new project of yours dropped, since you seemed to have insane chemistry with your co-stars. This time, the victim was Sam Cafflin, who just happened to star in some horror flick called Bagman. You weren't even together in the movie, but the few promotions you did together were enough for fans to place their imput in your relationship. They always did, yet, so far, no one had been able to guess it right.
And you're lucky, because it's been a while now since you and Pedro were together.
"If you could choose any D.I.L.F to take my place and be on a date with you, right now, who would it be?"
"Rude. I see you insist on me cheating on you on our date"
"I'm curious" she says, her accent shinning. "The Internet loves to pair you up with older men as much as you love to pair up yourself. Have you noticed?"
It's no secret. You're as clear as ambiguous. Everyone knows your preference, but none the fact that you're even married.
"Of course. I love my fans too much" you take a sip of your lemonade. "You could say I am a fan of them"
"Alright, but who you'd pick?" Amelia insists.
"Depends on the season" you chuckle. Your mind instantly goes to your husband. Still, you decide to spice things a bit with your answer. Give the Internet something to say. Give him something to say. Shit stirrer, you hear his voice in your mind. "Right now, it's summer, and Hugh Jackman seems the right answer"
The blonde woman raises her eyebrows.
"He was here just last month" Amelia says. "Should I give him your number?"
"You don't have my number" you deadpan. "Nor his"
Her eyes go wide as she suppresses a smile.
"Say I did. Should I ask yours for him?"
You shrug. "I'm a busy woman. If they want me, they better find me"
She chuckles lightly at that. "Well, thank you for making time for me then"
"Oh, for a pretty girl, anytime. Might like you more than my D.I.L.F.S"
Yet, in your heart, there's only a space and Pedro's carved itself inside it.
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"Hugh Jackman, huh?" he muses. "What the fuck is he gonna do for you, hmh?"
You wrap your arms around his neck, moving from side to side in a cheeky manner. He's been bugging you with it ever since you stepped inside the house, and you've been trying so hard for him to drop it, but you knew it was lost case ever since he started spamming your phone once the interview dropped last night.
"Pop those claws out"
"You could have a Roman general yet you chose a mutant freak"
"The Roman general dies. Wolverine is immortal" you argue back.
"You're saying that just because he's trending right now... I want to see if you hold to the same answer when Gladiator II comes out"
"Baby, be honest. Are you jealous?" you tease.
He scoffs. "Of a guy with forks for hands? Please"
"Calm down. No need to fight this war, general" you stand on your tiptoes, his lips brushing yours. "You know I'm all yours"
His grip on your waist tightens, then leans into your ear and whispers, possessively so.
"Damn right you fucking are"
You're enjoying this a bit too much. Not even the Internet had gone that crazy over your interview.
"Hugh Jackman can sing though"
"Aw, c'mon!" you laugh as he slips from your embrace. "That's it, you're sleeping on the couch tonight!"
"No, wait" you chase after him, giggling.
His face is flushed when he looks back at you.
"You know, I Iearned to sign Future Days, for Joel. But now? You get nothing, ungrateful deceiving wifey"
You feign hurt, placing a hand on your chest.
"Is it bad to say another man is hot, or have you gone too woke?"
"You're married. Don't bullshit me"
"Secretly married!" you protest.
"So that allows you to thirst out-loud for other men?" you remain silent. God, he's stubborn. "You've been a real bad girl"
You stop on your tracks. So does he. When you smile, wickedly so, he knows he's done for.
"I can be a good girl if you want"
Sultry voice. Dripping in honey, dropping in tone. Batting eyelashes. Parted glossed-up lips. His cock twitches. He feels like a fool.
Pedro just runs a hand through his hair. "Fuck, baby. You're gonna be the death of me"
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norixseaweed · 30 days ago
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Between Rooms: Masterlist + Intro (Ateez Smut series)
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Title: Between Rooms Rating: 18+ NSFW (MDNI) Characters: Ateez OT8, Female Reader/You Synopsis: Eight men. One house. And you, right in the middle of it. What started as a lucky break, an affordable room in a cozy mansion, quickly turned into something else entirely. You didn’t expect to bond with them so easily. You definitely didn’t expect the tension. Or the teasing glances. Or the way they touched you when no one else was around. This is a roommate AU (mostly cuz i didn't wanna logic around them being idols) A/N: There will be a little bit of boyxboy action at some point too ;)
Status: On Going
Masterlist-
Chapter 1: Jongho
Chapter 2: Seunghwa
Chapter 3: Mingi
Chapter 4: Yeosang
...
Intro and Character Introductions under read more
Intro:
You work as a bartender at one of the best bars in the city. The pay is decent, especially with tips, and overall, you’re pretty content with where you are in your career. The only issue? Your lease is about to end, and every new place you’ve looked at has been outrageously expensive.
One night, while venting about it to your friend and coworker Mingi, the bar’s security, he mentioned an open room for rent at the house he lives in.
He explained that it’s a mansion passed down through generations in the landlord’s family. He’s been living there for a few years now with seven other guys, and the landlord? A sweet, humble older woman who doesn’t care much about profit. She just wants to rent to good people and keep the house lived in.
Naturally, you were skeptical. Eight guys? A mansion? Too many red flags. But Mingi reassured you, it was a good space, the roommates were chill, and the rent was somehow cheaper than your current apartment.
Eventually, he brought you over to see it. You were expecting something flashy, intimidating. But the mansion turned out to be warm, cozy, less extravagant and more homey than you'd imagined. And when you met a few of the others, you felt comfortable right away. It didn’t take long for you to say yes.
Now here you are, seven months later.
You settled in faster than expected. Most of the guys welcomed you easily. It took a little more time with Yeosang and Yunho, but even they opened up eventually.
What you didn’t expect, though, was how hot and intense things could get with them.
And god, was it hot.
You always knew your libido was higher than most—none of your exes had ever been able to keep up. But these men?
They were something else entirely.
Character Introductions:
You – Bartender. The most recent to join the house. Reserved at first, but warm, caring, and easy to get along with once comfortable. Mostly submissive, with a soft dominant streak that shows around the right people.
Seonghwa – Fashion designer. Meticulous, calm, and quietly commanding. Manages the house like it’s part of his brand—organized, elegant, and always in control when it counts.
Hongjoong – Songwriter and producer. Creative, intense, and constantly working odd hours in his studio. Sharp-witted with a habit of teasing just to watch you squirm.
Yunho – Business management major with a hospitality minor. Polished, dependable, and flirtatious in the most casual, disarming way. The type to make your heart race with a single comment—then act like he didn’t mean it.
Yeosang – Law student. Private, intelligent, and observant to a fault. He doesn’t speak often, but when he does, it hits. Gives off silent authority and unshakable composure, with something darker simmering underneath.
San – Architecture student. Sweet, affectionate, and physically expressive—until things turn heated. In bed, he’s all control, with a soft spot for brats who need taming.
Wooyoung – Performing arts major. Loud, physical, shamelessly flirty, and always stirring the pot. Loves attention, lives for praise, and crumbles beautifully under dominance.
Mingi – Bar security and part-time choreographer. Playful, protective, and deceptively laid-back. Loves touch, thrives on rhythm, and turns surprisingly serious when he takes control.
Jongho – Coder by day, game streamer by night. Grounded, quiet, and impossibly strong. He gives more than he takes—focused entirely on your pleasure, with calm intensity that sneaks up on you.
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waynes-multiverse · 5 months ago
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The Exit Strategy – Part 1
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Summary: Russell is ready to hang it all up and retire, open up a brewery, and enjoy the rest of his civilian life. However, there's one important thing missing before he can take the big plunge. Luckily, he knows just the right person to help him find it.
Pairing: Russell Shaw x Female!Reader
Warnings: +18, language, mystery, a tinge of angst, humor & brotherly banter, one tiny surprise 🤓
Word Count: 5.8k
A/N: Happy holidays, guys! Enjoy 🎄❤️
Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist || Tag List
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Part 1: This Is Not a Pipe
The heavy truck door slammed shut behind him as Russell slid into the passenger seat with an exhaustive sigh. Colter’s big pickup was parked right next to his beautiful Chevelle in that same old motel parking lot in Virginia.
Russell hadn’t moved – yet. Well, sort of. He’d been away on assignment in some frosty region for a couple of weeks. He wasn’t allowed to say where exactly he’d been, and he knew better than to put it into writing, so let’s just agree he was at the North Pole looking for Santa Claus.
He could’ve ended up anywhere he wanted once he touched ground in the States again, but a very appreciated phone call from a former colleague made the decision for him. Besides, Russell knew this particular motel well. The coffee was more than decent and got the job done, the owner and employees were nice, comforting, and, most of all, trustworthy, and there were always fresh towels.
“Extra fluffy for you, Mr. Russell,” Rosa, the maid, would say every morning with the brightest smile.
Oh, and they had a hot tub in the back…
“Thanks for coming, man,” Russell extended his greeting without glancing at his younger brother once. He could feel Colter’s scrutinizing eyes on him, though, drilling for answers. Granted, his request had been rather unusual, so Russell understood where his younger brother’s ever-frozen furrowed brow stemmed from.
Providing answers didn’t come easy for the older Shaw, however. In fact, it had always been sort of a problem for him – even in the past. Especially in the past. Russell never lied, but he did omit things. Important things. On purpose.
“Yeah, uh, sure,” Colter replied with a polite smile as he started the car and rolled out of the lot.
Ah, yes, politeness…
That was what they were at, although it was progressively improving. It was only the third time the brothers were seeing each other since they had reconnected. And while the last two encounters had given the Shaws some well-needed time to talk things out and build trust, Colter was still naturally wary of his estranged sibling. As was Russell.
“So, what’s this about? You were pretty vague on the phone. You in trouble?”
That finally caught Russell’s full attention. He quickly shook his head, causing his hair to fall into his face. “What? No! No… No trouble,” he swiftly assuaged his brother with a dismissive hand gesture and a lighthearted chuckle. “Just need your help tracking down an old friend of mine, is all.”
Colter quirked an eyebrow at that. “Another Army buddy of yours?”
“Uh, something like that, yeah,” Russell replied rather mysteriously and didn’t even try to conceal the fact that he was hiding something more behind his ambiguous answer. But Colter only intensified his stare at him and wouldn’t let go that easily. Russell knew that. After all, they were related.
Persistence was a Shaw family trait. Another survival skill, if you will.
But this time, Russell wasn’t hiding a big government secret (or maybe he was). No lives depended on this particular mission (or so he thought). He wasn’t protecting a client, a company, or even his dubious employer (but someone else). He wasn’t choked by an NDA or about to save someone in grave danger (as far as he knew).
No, if anything, it was the fact that Russell didn’t know how much he could or should share with his brother. They were related, yes. But, technically, they hadn’t seen each other in decades, so they weren’t just considered merely estranged but strangers. Russell had always been aware of that fact, and Colter was beginning to catch on.
Especially during this mission.
See, once upon a time, the two hadn’t been just brothers. After moving to the cabin, societal contacts became scarce for the siblings. All they had was them. They were friends. Best friends. Always competitive, but friends nonetheless.
How much did they really know about each other now, though? How much of the old was still there?
“So, who are we looking for? What’s the guy’s name?” Colter asked, suddenly eager as he jumped into gear. He had always been restless, even as a kid, which fondly reminded Russell of their childhood.
But how much was he still the Russell that Colter once knew?
Well, Russell, on the other hand, remained calm and ruffled a casual hand through his beard. “Well, she’s, uh–”
Eyebrow cocked, Colter snapped his head to the passenger seat where his brother started to squirm. “Oh… Oh, so it’s a she,” he emphasized with a small grin. “Now I think I get it.”
There it is. I knew it, Russell thought with an internal sigh. In order for this mission to work, he knew he had to reveal some things. Private things. Things about himself and his life. Going in, Russell knew he couldn’t ask Colter for help without giving him something.
Their father had loved tests (and so did you – but that’s another story…). Russell always thought it had been the professor in him. So, Russell saw this as a test as well.
Could he trust Colter? And more pressingly, considering some long held accusations of murder, did Colter trust him?
A clear of Russell’s throat cut right through Colter’s chuckle. And then, the eldest tried his best to give no reaction at all. “Yes, she’s a… woman, but hold your horses. It’s not what you think, okay?” Colter lifted his eyebrow once more, causing Russell to heave another exhaustive sigh. “Fine, alright? It’s exactly what you think.”
Well, close enough, Russell thought. He knew Colter couldn’t even possibly imagine the reality in his wildest dreams.
Usually, Russell was an expert in avoiding uncomfortable questions. He was a pro at ditching answers and keeping secrets, even under torture and duress. However, there was just something entirely unique about dodging questions posed by little brothers.
And Russell saw it as a perfect bonding opportunity. He wanted to fill the chasm between them that their father’s death had caused – once and for all. But he couldn’t lie and say he wasn’t walking around on eggshells most of the time – something that reminded him of you again.
Learning from past mistakes, Russell wanted Colter to experience the fun side of him. The one that brewed his own beer, cared too much about his car, and had weird tastes in food. He chose to leave out the rest – the dark stuff and the very best stuff, too.
After all, Russell was good at omitting things.
Colter chuckled triumphantly. “Does this mean you’re finally giving up on Reenie?”
Amused, Russell let out a snort. “Ha! You wish… First things first, alright? Let’s just see how this thing pans out. It’s kind of a long shot. You know that exit plan I told you about?”
“Yeah, you wanna open your own brewery, right?”
“Yeah, well, let’s just say in an ideal world this, uh, woman would be part of that exit,” Russell said and sounded purposely casual as if he didn’t care the mission was successful or not in the end, omitting yet another thing – he did care.
He cared a fucking lot.
“Really? Okay.” Colter scratched his jaw and gave his words some thought. Then he offered a small, yet kind, smile. Honestly, Russell didn’t know what he had expected. “But, you know, if you want me to find the future Mrs. Shaw, I’m gonna need more information to go on. A name, last address, or a-, uh, a picture, maybe?”
“Well, name’s not gonna help you much in this case.” Your first name might’ve been shareable intel, but your last name was of the highest classification. “Her last address that I know of was in Berlin. And while I do have one photo of her, it’s not meant for your eyes, brother,” Russell said with a firmly territorial look that still carried a mischievous twinkle, revealing the exact nature of the photograph to be indeed inappropriate.
Russell had one naughty photo, yes. But he had a whole giant box of others, too.
Colter’s eyebrows met above his nose as he licked his lips. Customarily, people gave him more details when they needed him to find someone. But then again, those people usually weren’t his brother. “Do you know anything about this woman? How long have you two dated?”
“Uhm… not that long,” Russell supplied with a clear of his throat before mumbling the rest of his answer, hoping his beard would swallow most of his words. “Ten years. Give or take…”
What is time anyway if nothing but a concept, right?
Colter blinked at him and almost steered the vehicle off-road before gripping the wheel a little tighter. “I’m sorry… Did you just say ten years?”
“Well, might be more like twelve,” he admitted finally. “Well, anyways, saw her last three years ago.”
“Wow, okay, uhm…” Colter became quiet for a moment, speechless probably, the tiny bits of information running on a loop through his mind. He figured his brother still had lived a life while they hadn’t been speaking. Of course he had. He just never thought about what that life might have entailed, aside from classified military operations. “So, you’ve dated a woman for twelve years…”
“Fourteen.”
“…haven’t seen her in three, and know basically nothing about her?”
Russell snorted a laugh. “Yeah, I know. Ridiculous… Not even sure the name she did give me was her real one,” he said. It was a joke. He did know the name. He knew everything there was to know about you. So, maybe he did lie – sometimes. “But it’s the job, you know? It’s-, uh, it’s complicated.”
That part was true. Truer than he could ever possibly describe in words.
“I guess so…” Colter sighed, and Russell could hear the growing frustration. “So, she does what you do?”
Russell nodded. “In a way, yeah…” And Colter knew what that answer meant – he couldn’t say more. Again. “But don’t worry. We won’t have to turn over every stone on the face of this planet. I have a general idea of where she lives these days,” Russell provided. “One of my, uh, associates was working a job with her not that long ago. That’s how I found out she’s back in the States.”
Colter nodded in acceptance, knowing it was no use to try and prod more answers out of his brother. “Alright. Guess that’s something. So, where are we headed to?”
Russell then flashed him a grin with newfound determination sparkling in his green eyes. “Falls Church.”
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The short drive had remained quiet for the most part. Colter refrained from asking more questions, knowing he wouldn’t be able to get straight answers out of his older brother in one form or the other. To accentuate Colter’s assumption of receiving non-answers, Russell mostly stared out the window with an intensity that had Colter believe his brother was counting trees when, in fact, Russell was pondering what he would, could, or should tell Colter.
Of course, Colter could also always ask more questions about their elusive father, but he didn’t do that either. Sure, one could say he was curious. More than that even.
What did Russell really know about his death? Their mother? Their family? Their work?
Another time, he kept telling himself throughout whenever he stole glances at his long-lost sibling. It was too soon. What was the point when Russell was so clearly reluctant to share anything at all?
Thus, there was nothing left but silence among peaceful woods and dense foliage till Colter pulled his truck over curbside in the idyllic town center of Falls Church.
Patiently, he waited a moment for Russell to open the floor and tell them their next logical steps. He tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, blew raspberries, clicked his tongue, and waited and waited and waited…
Nothing.
If Colter didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought someone carved a lifeless wax statue out of his brother and planted it on his passenger seat. Russell’s entire body stood motionless, only a set of green eyes flickered alive every once in a while and swayed out the windshield in search of something – or someone.
“So, what’s the plan here?” Colter asked with a clear of his throat. “You just wanna stay here and wait till she accidentally runs across the street?” It was meant as a joke, but to Colter’s dismay, Russell remained dead serious.
“That’s exactly what we’re doing,” the older Shaw confirmed and squinted his eyes at the busy street. Again, he had omitted a few things. In his mind, Colter didn’t need to know why Russell knew to be in front of the post office at exactly 15:03 (UTC–4) on a Tuesday.
Colter snorted a laugh. “What? C’mon, that can’t be the plan… Do you know how many people live in Falls Church? Or in the general Washington metropolitan area? We could be here for days. Weeks even…” The younger Shaw then switched fully into work mode, grabbing his phone from the Bluetooth car mount. “We’re never gonna find her like this. You got a phone number, maybe?” But before Russell could answer, Colter replied himself, shaking his head at his own silliness. “What am I even asking? Of course you don’t.”
Russell only smirked at that. Restless, he thought again.
“What about an old one? Maybe even that would help. I could call Bobby, Reenie… You got anything? Nothing?” But the younger Shaw’s questions apparently stumbled upon deaf ears. “Russell? Russ? Are you even listening to me? I’m trying to help you here. You could at least–”
“Found her!”
Russell almost jumped out of the car as his voice rang with sheer excitement. His heart was beating a mile a minute when his emerald eyes landed on the target. It felt like the very first time all over again.
Granted, the first meeting didn’t go so smoothly – there had definitely been some bumps (all on his part). Then again, he expected this next meeting to go a little roughly too (again, all on him).
“Wait, what?!”
Russell downright beamed. “Told you this would work.”
Colter only scoffed under his breath, the familiar competitiveness crawling back to the surface. “Yeah, well, beginner’s luck, okay?”
One boot had nearly touched asphalt before Russell remembered this wasn’t a situation that required him to storm in guns a-blazing – not even covert. Gentle hands, he reminded himself and swiftly closed the car door again, falling back into his seat. His lungs deflated.
Colter, on the other hand, was more confused than ever. “What-, uh, what are you doing?” Half-amused, his brow furrowed a bit more. “If you’ve found her, go talk to her. Where is she? Who is it?”
Curiosity could only be contained for so long. Colter wanted to know who had been a part of his brother’s life for almost as long as he had. He felt this was a key piece of information that would cause the first domino to fall. And then, revelation after revelation about Russell’s past would unravel.
Basically, Colter was waiting for the big epiphany. No pressure.
Russell vehemently shook his head. “Can’t. At least not like this. I need more intel first. You need to find out her name, and then we need your guy Bobby to get onto this.”
And yet again, guess what? Yes, Russell was, indeed, omitting things.
“Me? Why me?” Colter blinked at him. Surprise, surprise…
“‘Cause, obviously, she’d recognize me,” Russell pointed out. Again, omission. Like he had explained earlier, it was a real problem…
Colter exhaled a deep sigh. “Okay, and I’m guessing you’re still not gonna tell me why we’re doing all of this, right?”
“Nope.”
“Yup, thought so.” Still not convinced, Colter narrowed his eyes at his clearly paranoid brother. Maybe paranoia ran in the family. Not to point fingers – he recognized it in himself, too. “Do we really need to go through all that trouble? I mean, you’ve known that woman for, what, fourteen years, you said? Isn’t that a little extreme… even for you?”
Fifteen, Russell corrected in his mind. Close to sixteen. Nineteen max.
“Just trust me, okay? It’s necessary,” Russell reassured, knowing those words bore some weight. Hurriedly (he was getting antsy – this was a time-sensitive issue), he pointed a finger out the window to the sidewalk across the street. “You see that woman walking into the post office? That’s her.”
“What, the brunette in the flowery dress with the golden cross necklace? That’s her?”
“Yup.”
“Wow, okay…” Surprised didn’t come close to explain how Colter felt. He had expected… different. His brow almost met his hairline, but he still tried his best to conceal his wonder – to no avail.
Suspiciously, Russell leaned back in his seat and assessed his brother’s demeanor with a small glare. “What?”
“Nothing.” Colter threw his hands up in surrender, swallowing. “Just… She doesn’t really seem like your type.”
Amused, Russell stifled a chuckle. “And what exactly do you think is my type, little brother?”
“I don’t know…”
“What, you think some nice Christian girl is too good for me?” Russell deadpanned. Admittedly, he enjoyed bantering with his little brother. It reminded him of what he had missed out on for years. This was what he had wanted and longed for since he had left the family at eighteen.
Well, “left” wasn’t really the right word for it now, was it? It implied a voluntary act, and his leaving wasn’t so voluntary.
“That is exactly what I’m saying,” Colter countered, laughing. “It’s just, you know… dental hygienist in a motel hot tub springs to mind.”
“Okay, alright… You done?” Russell huffed, shaking his head. He refrained from showing his honest amusement. “You’re gonna follow her in or not?”
“Alright, I’ll go,” Colter finally agreed somewhat enthusiastically and jumped out of the car, swiftly following the woman inside. After all, he was curiouser and curiouser…
Russell kept his eyes trained on his younger brother until Colter vanished inside the post office. Now, it was out of his hands, only hoping his little brother wouldn’t blow it. Chances were high he would. Not that Russell didn’t have some faith.
He just had more faith in you.
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Colter spotted you picking up mail from a PO box and decided on a plan of action in a matter of seconds. After all, he was quick thinking on his feet and the best at what he did. That’s why he was here. That’s why Russell had picked him for the job, right?
As you made your way back to the door, Colter eloquently intercepted you without disturbing the crowd. Another thing he had learned from his father.
He bumped straight into your shoulder and almost tackled you to the ground by the sheer force of his sneak attack. The mail in your hands scattered to the tiled floor like autumn leaves, and as Colter bent down to help you pick it up, he took a peek at your name on a postcard.
“Oh my God, would you look at that… I’m so sorry, Miss–,” the younger Shaw apologized clumsily, “Nora Laurier.” He uttered your name with a suave smile as he handed you back your pile of letters. The flirt in his eyes, however, he only added for Russell as revenge for Reenie. “Beautiful name.”
Your hands lingered on the letters between you for a moment as you took in his features and tall stature. It left you with a strange haunting of familiarity.
“Thank you,” you finally said with a hint of a smile as he let go of the mail. “Be more careful next time.”
“I will. Sorry again.” Colter chuckled with blushed cheeks and watched you leave. He waited till you had passed the row of windows before exiting himself.
He was a good actor, too.
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Antsy, Russell almost bit his lip bloody as he stared the post office down till a migraine began to form. God, what he wouldn’t pay for some X-ray vision and super-hearing. He could be downright Superman with that – and the hero always got the girl.
His heart dithered anew with longing as you walked out – it took his breath away. You always did that, and you did it well. But then, you stopped short for a mere second, which wouldn’t have caused a civilian to raise a single brow. But Russell did.
“Shit…” he mumbled in the silence of the truck and lowered himself down to the dashboard. He watched you reach for your phone in your purse and call someone as you headed down the street.
Eventually, you stopped three houses east and finished your call in the shade of a tree next to a busy (and noisy) bus station. Russell caught your eyes drifting back to the doors of the post office, though, just as his little brother walked out and jogged towards the car.
“Shit, shit, shit!” Russell ducked even further down, hitting his head in several places. “What did that knucklehead do?”
The driver’s door opened as Colter casually slipped inside. “Got a name,” he announced victoriously. Part of his happiness emanated from gathering yet another puzzle piece of his mysterious brother – meeting you. “She goes by Nora Laurier now… And she seems nice. Way too nice for you, actually…” As he drifted off, his eyes searched for the elder one before finding him almost kissing the floor mat. “Russ, uh… What-, uh, what are you doing down there?”
“What the hell did you do?” Russell’s tone was both snappy and frustrated.
“Whoa, what d’you mean what did I do?” Colter waved off defensively. “I did what you told me to do!”
“She made you!”
“She did not make me,” Colter brushed off with a laugh, quite confident of his own skill set. They’d had the same teacher. He would know if you had suspected anything.
“Then why did she wait and look after you, huh?” Russell pointed out in annoyance.
Colter’s lips itched to break a smile. He couldn’t help it. It was the perfect opportunity to teach his flirt of a brother a well-needed lesson. “Well, maybe I caught her eye… piqued her interest, you know?”
Russell cocked a brow from below, his stare lethal. “Did you flirt with her?”
Colter hesitated for a moment. Mostly for dramatic effect. “I-, uh… You told me to get her name. ‘Sides, I told you Reenie was off limits.”
“Oh, so this is about revenge? Very mature.” Russell frowned. “She still there?”
“Where?” Colter stretched himself a bit as he looked out the windshield.
“Tree. Bus station.”
An amused smile formed on Colter’s lips as he spotted you. “Oh, yeah. I see her. I don’t think she suspects anything. She’s not even loo-… No, uh, wait… Yup.”
“What?” Russell’s brows drew together as he rose a little from his crouched position.
“Yeah, she’s definitely looking over here.”
“Well, stop looking down,” Russell hissed through gritted teeth. After a deep breath, he spoke in a calmer, more advising tone, “Pretend I’m not here.”
“Trying to, trust me… Should I wave at her? Smile?”
“Are you nuts?! Just look ahead. Pretend you’re getting a phone call.”
Colter did as he was told and held his phone to his ear. “She’s still looking,” he informed with a pressed smile, barely moving his mouth when he spoke.
“Okay, what’s she doing now?”
“There’s a-, uh, there’s a car coming and pulling over by the bus station. Dark gray Audi A6. Virginia Plates. Yankee-Papa-Charlie-5824,” Colter said as Russell hauled a pen from his pocket and began to jot down the plate numbers on his left palm.
“Copy that.”
He’d memorize them anyway, but one could never be too safe. He could get a concussion in the next hour or so (most likely because of you), and then what?
“Okay, she’s getting in,” Colter narrated. “Driver’s in his late-thirties. Male. Glasses. Medium height. Medium build… I think you could take him,” he added with a teasing grin.
“Shut up,” Russell retorted. “Are they gone now?”
“Pulling away from the curb and… Yep, they’re gone. Headed south down the road,” Colter affirmed.
“Alright.” Russell popped back into his seat with a sigh and some sore muscles. He had been sure he’d heard a few bones crack while he’d been cowering down there. He might be finally getting too old for these missions. But that was part of the reason why he was here in the first place – retirement was calling. And Russell wanted to fill the chair next to him on the porch.
“You good?” Colter checked and choked the small laugh that wanted to escape upon the ruffled sight of his older brother.
“Yeah, go ahead and follow them. Just keep a low profile,” Russell instructed. “On our way, you might wanna call your op analyst, too. See what he can find out.”
“Alright,” Colter agreed somewhat reluctantly but still tailed the sedan. “You sure this is a good idea?”
“What d’you mean?” Russell said mindlessly, keeping his eyes focused on the target vehicle.
“Us… stalking your ex-girlfriend?” Colter noted with a cocked brow. “And her potentially new boyfriend?”
Russell only laughed at that. “We’re good. Trust me.”
Admittedly, though, a small part of him wondered (and worried) if this was all real. Maybe Nora Laurier wasn’t your real name, but it might be your actual new one – one you’d adopted as a safety precaution after you’d left it all behind. Maybe you had finally done it and retired, found a perfectly normal guy, and settled down – just without him.
Or:
Maybe you were still in the game, after all.
Russell was hoping it was the latter. Otherwise, he could probably expect a hefty restraining order in his future, but he wasn’t about to tell Colter that. Not until he knew for sure.
The Audi parked in front of an organic grocery store a few blocks down. Colter chose a spot across the parking lot, keeping a reasonable distance with the perfect view. Russell watched as you and Unnamed Man #1 sauntered into the store, an arm slung tightly around your waist and a smile on your face.
While on the phone with Bobby, Colter could tell that the sight of you in another man’s arms stung. “Okay, uh, thanks, Bobby.”
“What’d he say?” Russell fired as soon as Colter had removed the phone even just an inch from his ear.
“Uh, well, there’s some bad news,” Colter revealed hesitantly and licked his lips, not knowing how he was supposed to break his brother’s heart. “Bobby ran the plate number through the DMV. It’s registered to an Aiden Laurier.”
“Laurier?” Undeniably, Russell’s heart flinched at the connection. “Maybe a brother. Cousin…”
Or a colleague, Russell’s mind stubbornly added.
Colter bit his lower lip hard before he spoke, “They’ve been married for two years. I’m sorry, Russ.”
A hand comfortingly patted Russell’s shoulder. A part of him wanted to scream heavenward, but something else inside was gnawing on him.
He clicked his tongue. “No… No.” Sure, one could argue that denial was always the first step of grief. “No. No way she married sweater-vest John Mulaney over there.”
“I’m pretty sure she did. Bobby sent me the marriage certificate,” Colter countered and showed him the screenshot on his phone.
Russell glanced at it for a short second, not even bothering to waste more time on fake news. He shook his head. He knew better.
“Nah. I’m not buying it. You need to go in there and tell me what you see.” He sealed his words with an encouraging pat on the shoulder.
Colter exhaled deeply. “Russ, I-, uh, I think you need to let this go, man. You’re starting to… Never mind.”
“No. Go ahead. Say it,” Russell prompted with some thunder in his voice. “I’m reminding you of Dad, don’t I?”
Colter only twitched his shoulders. “I mean, yeah. A little.”
Russell’s head bobbed in thought before he met his little brother’s eyes. “You really don’t see it?”
“See what?”
“The post office, the road crew over there, the-, the fake documents?”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“C’mon… Just think about everything Dad taught us, huh?”
Was Colter really not getting it? Russell found that quite hard to believe. He had known his little brother to be as sharp as a whip. While Russell didn’t always have the nicest things to say about their father, he could admit the old man had prepared them well for life. Well, one life at least. This one.
The nomad life, the odd jobs that required them to have a particular set of skills like Liam Neeson.
Colter shook his head. “I have no clue what you’re talking about, Russell.”
Russell let out a sigh and leaned back in his seat. “Alright, if you don’t see it, you don’t see it.” A smirk twitched in the corners of his lips. “It’s your funeral, brother…”
With narrowed eyes, Colter pursed his lips. “Alright, just tell me one thing, okay?”
“You know I can’t tell you anything,” Russell reiterated and brushed his beard.
“I know. I know… It’s not that kinda question,” the younger Shaw reassured.
“Go ahead,” Russell relented and curiously looked at his brother.
Within a second, Russell could think of a million questions Colter might want to ask him, but this hadn’t been one of them:
“In the past three years, how many times have you thought about her? And I don’t just mean ‘crossed your mind’ every couple of months. I mean ‘seriously thought’ about her?”
“Hmm.” Russell pondered for a moment before replying, “Every damn day.”
It wasn’t a lie, no omission of anything, and Colter could tell. You were the first thought that popped into Russell’s still groggy mind when he woke up and the last one every night that fluttered across his weary eyelids. Obviously, he didn’t give Colter the soppy answer, though.
“Fine. I’ll go,” Colter softened his stance. “You owe me,” he added with a pointed finger before setting foot outside the car.
“I do owe you. Anything you want, brother,” Russell agreed with a broad grin. “How about we start with a full case of my homebrew, huh?”
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Colter danced gracefully through the aisles, spying through canned goods and boxes of cereal. He watched you carefully select fruit with your husband, move through the dairy talking about “organic” and “locally sourced” till you landed on a few choices of toothpaste and finally strolled to the cash register.
Everything seemed boringly normal and ordinary. You chatted with the cashier. They handed you a coupon, which you slipped into your purse. Your husband paid with his credit card (which carried the same name matching the DMV records), and both of you left the store with two paper bags in your arms.
Once through the sliding glass doors, you stopped and turned to your husband. “Darn, honey, I think we forgot the milk.”
“You want me to grab it?”
“No, I’ll do it.”
“Okay, I’ll wait by the car and load the rest of the groceries.”
Now, Colter found that odd. He had watched you spent at least five minutes in the dairy aisle. How could you forget something as basic as milk?
As you hushed inside, your husband sauntered back to the car, and Colter followed you back in. You passed right by the dairy and, with a few looks that resembled a scan of your surroundings, you slipped past the door that led to the restrooms.
Waiting a beat, Colter went in after you. But you were long gone – just not to the restroom. An ‘Employee Only’ door that led to a dumpster alley outside was just falling shut.
Granted, Colter had a bad feeling about this. It was the same feeling he always got shortly before walking into a trap. In his defense, though, you were not a seven-foot-tall, 300-pound kind of guy. He wasn’t about to be ambushed by Shaquille O’Neal, which is probably why Colter didn’t find it necessary to pull his gun.
In hindsight, he should have.
The narrow alley was quiet and empty, except for some trash littering the ground around the dumpsters. It was closed-off, too, wedged between buildings with no view to the parking lot or nearby streets.
And then, something hit him. Or better yet: You hit him. With an elbow to the face and a stiff, flat palm to his throat, Colter stumbled forward before you gave him the final blow and knocked him off balance, tackling him to the ground.
Pressing his cheek into the rough and unforgiving surface of the asphalt, you jumped on him and restrained his arms tightly behind his back. While he squirmed to get out of your hold, he didn’t use as much brutal force as you expected he would.
“Shit,” he muttered below you, his voice muffled by the gravel. A light chuckle escaped him. “Okay, you got me.”
“Sounds about right,” you agreed with a smirk and tightened your grip on his arm.
Then, Colter heard a gun click above him. Hoping to see his brother, he looked up – only to find your husband with a weapon in hand as he stared down the barrel.
“Ah, I think you broke my nose,” the younger Shaw mumbled with a groan.
“Good. You’ve been following me. Why?” you prompted sternly. “Who are you? Who are you working for? Jafari? Mueller?”
“Listen, I-I think you’ve got the wrong idea. I’m not who you think I am,” Colter argued with a strained voice. What the hell had Russell gotten him into? “This is just a big misunderstanding.”
“Uh-huh.” You could only roll your eyes at that. How many times had you heard that line before?
“Let’s hood him. Get him to the Market,” your partner suggested. “We’ll see if he talks then.”
“No, really,” Colter insisted, growing a bit more uneasy. He had no idea what the Market was, but it didn’t sound pleasant. “You know my brother.”
“Who’s your brother?” With your elbow, you put more pressure on his back.
“Ow, alright…” Colter groaned once more as the pain intensified. “Looks kinda like me. Think two decades younger. He was in the Army, so probably didn’t have long hair and a beard. Uh, kind… green eyes? No? Doesn’t ring a bell?”
Colter watched your brow furrow in his periphery as he squinted upwards. He could see the gears starting to turn in your head. You just needed one final push to put all the puzzle pieces together.
“If it helps, my name is Colter. Colter Sh–”
“Shaw,” you shot like a missile. Your jaw plummeted to the ground, your heart springing right out with it. Your grip on the man caught between your thighs loosened, hearing Colter’s sigh of relief before you heard his voice.
“Hiya, sweetheart.”
Your head darted up, the man beneath you long forgotten. You swallowed as your eyes landed on an all too familiar face – even when it was covered by a bunch of hair that had never been there before. The heart-crushing smile was still the same as if it had been ripped straight from an old photograph you had of him.
“Russell?!”
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Part 2: This Is a Russell Mission
Quite the entrance! Writing Russell reminded me somewhat of Plastic Hearts Dean (minus the addiction problems unless you count lying) because of all the wild overthinking 😂
If you enjoyed this story, then I'll gladly keep working on its prequel. Was a bit nervous to post this since I filled in some family history gaps myself 😅 I also dove into the books a little and added some things that kinda fit their "show" personalities.
Please let me know what you think and if you'd be interested in a young soldier!Russell series 😉🤍
Ko-Fi ☕️ Tag List 🤍
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TAGS:
Forevers: @alwaystiredandconfused @xlynnbbyx @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey
@deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies
@agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @iamsapphine @globetrotter28
@mxltifxnd0m @lacilou @feyresqueen @suckitands33 @onlyangel-444
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alive-gh0st · 23 days ago
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I love Afterglow so much! But would you care to indulge my curiosity? Do you imagine reader to be slightly older than Mark? I imagine to be in her mid- to early twenties bc of her expansive career in the medical field, though I'm only going by the impression that she only started working after graduating; unless she's been working for some time already? Idk how careers work ajkdshfldf
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˗ˏˋ❝Afterglow❞ˎˊ˗
Mark Grayson x Med!Reader♡ྀི
‎…..ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ…..
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
AHHH first of all—thank you so much for the love on ”Afterglow”!! This is such a fun ask, and I’m honestly so happy someone’s curious enough about something to dive into it with me.
You’re feeding my writer ego. I hope you’re proud of yourself.
So! Let’s talk canon real quick (I’m letting out my inner nerd rn):
In the comics, Mark starts out at 17 years old, but he ages pretty fast—and by the midpoint (around where ”Afterglow” would be happening, give or take), he’s roughly 19–20 , depending on how closely you track the arcs.
He’s been through it (emotionally unwell, physically worse), and is already working full-time with Cecil, so we’re definitely not dealing with “freshman bio class” energy anymore.
The man is seasoned. In trauma.
If we were going by the animated series, though—it’s a little fuzzier.
Season two makes it clear he’s just recently turned 18, so if you’re seeing ”Afterglow” through a show-only lens, Reader might come off as a bit older. But that’s kind of the fun of it, right?
Different interpretations work depending on what canon you’re leaning into. Especially since she’s employed, competent, and not trying to flirt while holding a scalpel backwards.
(Unlike a certain someone in goggles.)
Also! In ”Afterglow”, Mark is still wearing that iconic yellow-blue disaster suit, which firmly locks the timeline into late Season 2-ish // early Season 3 vibes if we were following the showverse.
As for Reader? Yes—I do personally imagine her to be a bit older. Not by decades or anything, but enough to feel the difference. Maybe 21–23ish, depending on how chaotic and accelerated you want her backstory to be.
Either she’s a prodigy who skipped grades and sprinted into the trauma field, or she’s just a few years older with a no-nonsense attitude and a résumé that could legally intimidate a superhero.
She’s sharp, capable, and absolutely not here to babysit—which just makes Mark being utterly down bad for her even funnier.
Regardless, I love the dynamic of “older, exhausted professional woman” × “younger, slightly feral man with devotion issues.”
BUT! While ”Afterglow” is loosely grounded in comic canon (especially in tone and timeline), it’s very much doing its own thing.
The plot, pacing, and character dynamics all live in their own little sandbox. Nothing’s rigid. It’s vibes first, logic second. As it should be.
Hope that answers the curiosity!! And seriously—thank you again for caring about this chaotic little universe enough to ask.
I’m legally required to write more now.
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌a/n: okay—not a new chapter (pause for dramatic disappointment), but if you’ve ever sat there wondering where exactly “afterglow” falls in the timeline or how old anyone even is while mark is out here catching feelings mid-shift… this one’s for you. huge shoutout to the anon who asked and accidentally unleashed my inner lore geek.
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌ongoing TAGLIST: @pickledsoda @f3r4lfr0gg3r @bakugouswh0r3 @katkirishima @delusionalalien @bellelamoon @monaekelis @feminii @sketchlove @lilacoaks @cathuggnbear @forgotten-moon94 @lalana1703 @smikitty @barbare2 @sleepyzzz3 @sunspl0tionjuice
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
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taglist sign up: 𓉘here𓉝
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌With Love, @alive-gh0st
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punkeropercyjackson · 5 months ago
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🍫Zuko headcanons🍫
🍫Multiracial asian but mainly japanese ancestry.It's confirmed in one of the novel's there was a cultural unification in-universe so as a biracial latina,i'm taking this as mixed-coding
🍫Trans man who dosen't mind dipping his toes into femininity when asked(usually by Aang)but generally strongly perfers masculinity in his presentation.His egg cracked in his toddler years and due to his societal position,getting t and surgeries was very easy and his top surgery scars are dragon wing shaped
🍫Also sorry short king Zuko nation but i'm a 2nd tallest member of The Gaang Zuko truther.Katara is 6'7 and Zuko is 6'4(and goes without saying she uses it to tease him and calls him 'Squirt' and he sputters and yells at her every time)
🍫Autistic with anxiety,bpd,npd and ptsd.That no masking game rbf is iconic and he also has chronic pain and fatigue and uses a tricked up cane Sokka made him that's also a sword and goes with saying he's legally blind in his scar eye
🍫Tradgoth.Emo Zuko is fake and so is punk Zuko and grunge Zuko and literally any non-goth Zuko and i'm including poser goth Zuko.In a modern au he'd walk around looking like Spencer's ate him up then vomited him out into an empty grave he dug his own way out of Jason Todd style and a cunti maximus.He would also listen to death rock,Korn and breakcore,slander Hot Topic,encourage diy and online store shopping,play pirated horror games(and Animal Crossing),collect lost media items,do deepdive research into urban legends as a special interest,attend moshes,skateboard and do piercings for neighbourhood kids who ask him(including Aang🫶🏽)
🍫Fat/Dad bod.Give that guy some REAL thickness,none of that dehydrated bodybuilder bullshit.It was caused by him eating a lot more and a lot healthier,both from his healing arc with a new enviorment that's actually good for him and to sustain himself in training and Aang also has some chub going on but from the start of the series and he helps Zuko know there's nothing wrong with big builds and Zuko has pretty much no body insecurities as a result just like he does(it dispelling fears of resembling Ozai as he got older certainly didn't hurt)
🍫Katara and him are honorary siblings and she's his way cooler little sister figure and he's her older brother only she can bully 2:Electric Boogalo.I like to think they make matching friendship bracelets with eachother's aesthetics(so a sea themed one for Zuko and a gothic themed one for Katara)and Zuko convinces Katara to emotionally rely on him even if she'll never see him as a dad like Aang and Toph do and it eventually works
🍫He also is the reason she discovered cat cafes and she goes to them bi-monthly now as comfort and to unwind from all her constant activism.Zuko's a huge fan of cat cafes too and they were safe spaces for him pre-banishment and one of the first thing's he did when the war ended was go to one again.Whoever Zuko is dating is given cat cafe punch cards by him as one of the ultimate romantic gestures in his mind(he right though)
🍫Calls Aang 'My Sunshine',a nickname that fits his sunny personality but also to say he gave him the strength he needed to connect to his own power to save himself by bringing the sun back into his life in his hand,extended to him to give him a chance even when he was too caught up to see he had one.Less setimentally,he also calls him 'Mittens'
🍫Bites as affection,little nibbles or straight up enough for the other person to bleed depending on how cool they are with it.He asks and establishes consent first obvs even in the former cases
🍫Boba is the only kind of tea he likes.Don't @ me with 'he spit it out when Iroh invented it and had him try it',he was just surprised at the tapioca balls.His favorite flavors are brown sugar,cotton candy,funfetti,berrymix and oreo
🍫SUPER physically affectionate with Aang and it started one sided on his part but Zuko soon starting instigating it too instead of tolerating it to enjoying it about two years into their friendship.If he goes too long without an Aang hug he finds it upsetting and it pisses him off
🍫Very into gems,odd rocks,seashells,etc and has a secret stockpile in his room
🍫Pretty long hair,all the way down to his hips and perfers it out of his face,in a back of the head ponytail or half-up in a bun with the rest loose
🍫Always knew he was bi subconciously but didn't realize it until he was 16.He's that one tweet-'I'm probably a faggot x2 combo but i got a quest so idrc about that rn'
🍫Modern au Zuko is obsessed with PushPops.Don't question it,just know i'm right and may figure out a way to canonize them to core Atla
🍫Apologized to Azula and rebuilt a relathionship with her as soon as he released her from prison as The Gaaang were struck with how broken and not 'too far gone' she is.It took a long time and so much fucking work but The Fire Siblings finally felt comfortable seeing eachother as family and acting as not legit beefy but healthy siblings
🍫Has a voice tic where he constantly sounds angry and can't control it and he has to learn to tell people so they don't mistake it for lashing out at them
🍫Likes wearing long sleeves for that flap stim and drumming his fingers but to create a musical sound rather than for the sake it of as a stim too.Crushing stims are a Zuko trademark
🍫'Why does Zuko call you babygirl?''Aang,how about we just stop talking for a little while?' < every Zuko ship
🍫Dangly lemon quartz material dragon earrings
🍫Adores Choose Your Own Adventure comics and books!!He loves choosing his own destiny alright /lh /pos
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robin-the-enby · 2 years ago
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Black butler Ciel with a older sister who rather spend more time reading, writing, spend time in her imagination, or her own self interests than run the company. She has her own business of running a successful book series.
Pairing: Ciel Phantomhive x older sister!reader Warnings: mentions of past trauma (not descriptive) A/N: Thank you very much for the ask and, as usual, I'm so sorry for the delay. If you don't mind, I decided to write this as headcanons. Also, the relationship between Ciel and the reader is strictly platonic. I have decided that I will not write romantic Ciel works anymore, because he's a child. And while I did have a crush on him when we were the same age, I have moved on and it would be highly inappropriate, I believe.
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I think it's safe to say that you are very important to Ciel. You are his last living relative after all.
It doesn't matter if you're close or not. I don't think Ciel would appear to want to be close to anyone, even a relative. But that isn't really the case.
Now, he's definitely not clingy. He's self-sufficient, maybe a little too much. He definitelly doesn't need to rely on you.
But that doesn't mean he doesn't like to spend time with you. On the contrary. And since you are the quiet type, it makes spending time together much more comfortable for him.
He would be the type of person to do his own thing and let you do your own, just...in the same space. He could be sorting paperwork in his office, but you would be there as well, just a few meters away from him, scribbling down in a notebook on drawing in your sketchbook.
It's comfortable, it's quiet, and it means the world to him. If he looks past the age difference (and that little voice that tells him that maybe your roles should be exchanged), he almost feels normal. And that type of peace is very rare in his life, so he takes any and every chance to spend time with you like this.
It was very strange to him though, mostly at first, when he returned to the mansion. The way you are so different. He couldn't wrap his head around the fact that you have no interest in the family company, or that you rather spend time in your own head than in th real world.
He does get the appeal of that, it's just that he thinks it's...foolish. He is a logical person, who always thinks ahead, to rule out any possibility of others taking advantage of him again. If he submitted to the luxury of running away from the past that still haunts him, he would achieve nothing.
But the more time he spends with you and the more he integrates himself back into the regular world (as regular as it can be for him at least), he sees that you're many things, but not foolish. Yes, you're a dreamer, perhaps a bit naive, but not stupid.
In the end, he prouds himself to be your brother. You have a great imagination and sometimes you help him more than you could imagine. If he has a case to solve, you help give him an outside look into things from a perspective he could never even imagine.
He appreciates your art as well. It would depend on your style and whether or not you were spared the torture he went through to determine how much, but he definitely appreciates it and thinks it's beautiful. If your style is a form of self presentation, translation of your shared traumas and deepest feelings, he might like it just a smidge more.
When you present the idea of publishing your own book, he is definitely on board. He likes to read your stories anyway, he can't see why others wouldn't enjoy it. He would definitely help you find the best publisher and arrange the best deal for you (with a little help from Sebastian, if needed).
When your book becomes a hit in London and the readers as well as critics start asking for a sequel, he feels proud. Proud of himself, for helping you make your dream come true, but mostly proud of you. For not conforming to expectations of others, who would assume you'd take over the Phantomhive company, but instead following your dreams and working hard to make them come true. It is that kind of strength he really admires. But of course, he knows how the world works and so he thinks his help was neccesary (and would continue to be in the future).
In the end, you have sort of a symbiotic relationship. Whenever you need anything for your work, Ciel gets it for you. Art supplies, sketchbooks, he can get you anything and you best believe it'll be in the best quality as well. He also helps you make deals with potential publishers or anyone who is interested in your work, making sure no one tries to scam you and that you get the most benefits from your labour.
In return, he asks for nothing. You already give him everything he needs from you. Your company. He gladly takes on the task of managing the family business, if it means that you can still sit by him in his study, scribbling away, as if nothing in the world had ever gone wrong.
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britt-kageryuu · 1 month ago
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Ah~ the minds need to connect two different franchises because of maybe a couple similar details.
My mind decided to compare LEGO Monkey Kid and Turning Red. Mainly the point where MKs form kept glitching out into his Monkey Form.
But then thought of a, maybe a story where MK might've unintentionally unlocked his Monkey Form much earlier, like maybe even before getting Ruyi Jingu Bang.
His form keeps glitching or swapping, and he has to figure out how to control this, because while Tang might know lore and legend he might not know anyone who could help with this.
Since it seems like Glamors are less used in modern times for various reasons, unless used by older Yaoguai who are just used to putting them on.
MK doesn't quite realize that he's basically trying to brute force his glamor back on, and kinda recreating a different form of the spell that works similar to how the transformation looks in Turning Red, again unintentionally.
Though MK still has to figure out the Monkey Instincts that, to him, now popped out of nowhere.
And that's before factoring in how this effects how the Demon Bull Family, Sun Wukong, and other Yaoguai would treat him.
Because I can at least picture the scene where MK gets the delivery to where the staff is to some detail. Give or take how long Wukong might've been watching MK and if he's seen the transformation.
Pretty much not much changes until MK falls on Red Son, and accidentally turns back into his Monkey Form.
From there everyone is a bit thrown off, and maybe think MK is one of Wukongs followers there to check on the staff, meanwhile the monkey himself might be very confused and think the staff caused the change in form.
The rest of the scene depends on how well MK can bluff his way out of the situation before they realize he can lift the staff, and it drags him out of there like in canon.
The only difference to the main story I can figure now is that the enemies either think MK is Wukongs kid, or a Monkey Yaoguai follower.
Because the 'How to Monkey Yaoguai' stuff just kinda gets bundled into MKs training, which gets changed because Wukong figures out that MK was always a Yaoguai and that the staff didn't cause the change.
The question is more how specific people like Macaque, the Brotherhood, and a number of Celestials handle the fact that MK is a Monkey Yaoguai, and they don't know where he came from.
Well certain individuals know, but why tell them the truth when there's not much use in revealing the revelation that happens in season 5, and how everything has not been going to plan for who knows how long.
And let's not forget that the Demon Bull Family might not be sure how to proceed with their plans with the speculation of MK being Wukongs SON. Because that might cause them to change their plans drastically.
I can only guess, since I can't fully wrap my mind around how these characters would act to MKs Monkey Form coming out pre-series and how it effects the main story.
And I only just now realized I forgot to factor Meis reactions into this whole thing!
Other than her Gushing over how cute his Monkey Form is, and his fur, maybe a comment on how something made sense now.
There's probably alot of ways to write out Meis' reaction, but I don't think she would act too different around him, until the Courtnapping attempts start kicking into gear.
Either way this lost the Turning Red connection unless the story should focus on a teenage MK struggling with the transformation and whatever school/social life he had.
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watermelondip · 1 month ago
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transatlanticism | chapter two
masterlist ao3
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Series Description: The past, present, and plausible future. Knowing Steve in the in-between. Or, as you grow up in Hawkins, parallel to Steve's rich kid bubble, you fall out of favor with expectations, and end up abroad for the rest of highschool. In light of an abrupt return, you try to rekindle a friendship with someone you don't know anymore.
Tags: friends to lovers, friends with benefits, angst, severely poor communication.
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steve harrington / reader Warnings: smoking, underage drinking, swearing. Words: 4.9k
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You had a cleaning lady, a French tutor, a gardener, a pool boy, and a dude that lived about 30 miles away who kept a consistent eye at your security cameras; someone was always home. On top of this, it was always an event, every Saturday night, it was always a party. For your first weekend back home, you invited all of your past high school acquaintances (all who remained) over for beer and catch-up nonsense, blurry faces blabbering on about higher-up positions and recent engagements. It was an event, every Saturday night, it was a party, but the people were older, and the talk was more mature. Something maneuvered its way into the lounge, fatally reminding you of the time long since passed and the dreadful fate of the incapable, trust-fund dependent spinster you were slowly morphing into.
"Did you call Steve yet?" Carol had short hair and grimace. Her mean girl mania was a welcomed comfort against the background of adulthood.
You shook your head: "I think he'd rather I not."
She handed you a cigarette. Your grandfather's lung cancer and subsequent death had always hooked you onto the idea that smoking was a socially acceptable form of self-mutilation. You figured it wouldn't have time to kill you, though, not with everything else. You had narrowly avoided driving a Jeep of a bridge during spring break just that year prior. Once, before Nancy and before the great rift, you got so wasted they had to pump your stomach (Steve had driven you to the hospital, but Steve had also been the one to give you half of those drinks, and so it all just displayed itself as full circle in the end). You were mugged in New York when you were fourteen. Smoking was like eating an extra hotdog or sitting too close to the T.V. screen.
"Nancy and him are, like, totally splitsville. You know that, right?" It was an old lighter, one that always took a few clicks to work and had a prominent bit of rust on the bottom, but it felt like '82 and the pool and all-nighters and holding hands with boys, so it sat like a staple in your purse all those years. It was your first cigarette since you got back; it felt like breathing again, and you smiled.
"If Nancy was the problem, there wouldn't be one." Carol snickered.
"If it makes you feel better, on top of being morbidly single, he's a minimum-wage-making loser that hangs out with teenagers." She kicked up a leg, crossing it over the other and leaning back in her seat. Everything about her demeanor reeked, just like it always had.
"Yeah, thanks, I feel amazing about that." 
"When you start to give a shit about him, he wins." She sucked her teeth, glancing over to Tommy, candid in the corner with a half-empty beer and a lopsided stance. "But if you ignore it and don't call, it's even worse, because then you care so much you can't even face it. The last thing you want to be is a spineless bitch."
You pointed a sharp finger at her poignant disinterest, "I'm not a spineless bitch." She grinned.
"Prove it." She waved her hand at the phone, sitting idle on the hallway table a few feet away. "Call him." 
You laughed, incredulous about all of it, and then settled into, "I don't even remember his number. Plus, it's late."
"Yeah, and he's Steve. He's probably up doing pushups or jerking off or something."
"I don't remember his number," you emphasized, shaking your head and glancing to the side, a weak attempt to get her attention to shift. The cigarette started to taste like charcoal, and the air stunk of alcohol. Steve hated it when you would smoke; he would frown and cough and refuse to kiss you, no matter how much you pouted or slumped or said stupid, cheesy things with your dumb, grabby hands. "It's been a few months."
"Well, his loss." She picked up a beer from the table beside her, drinking like a villain and glaring at you the whole way through. "You should visit him, though, at the video store. Let him know what he's missing out on."
"I think he knows," you replied, deprecating yourself with a sardonic grin and tilt. Carol shrugged.
"Don't let it be your loss too."
-
The tennis dress and the Chanel flats and the Calvin Klein cardigan. The Guess jeans and the Ralph Lauren crewneck and the other pair of Chanel flats, the older ones, the ones Aunt Marie gifted you five Christmases ago. The nice, new car or the older, reliable car, the one with the top down that Steve used to stand up in when he was a bit shorter and bit more wholly reckless. The smile, the big, wide grin, or the strait-laced grimace, the sort of expression girls carry with them as a weapon. Configuring your persona took four hours tops.
"Do you have something, like, kinda scary? But not too scary. Just, like, normal, fun scary, you know?" The girl at the counter was unenthused and unappreciative. She gave you a glare.
"So, a horror movie?"
"Yeah, but nothing crazy or freaky or anything, you know?" You picked at your thumb, red nail polish chipping and skin peeling around the edges. Your lipstick-stained smile failed to quell her silent disgust.
"Try Fright Night, it's fun." She took in a breath, stopping to squint at your face, tilting inquisitively before asking, "Have we met before?"
"I went to school here," you explained, bending a leg and resting a hand at your hip. "You know, the funny thing is, pretty much everyone I used to know moved after last summer. I mean, it's a total mystery to me, 'cause like, this place is just as unbearably boring as it used to be, but whatever."
She choked out a brief laugh, only letting her smile get about halfway before it fell back into a semi-grimace accompanied by an awkward shuffle of her feet behind the counter.
"Well, the mall," she pointed out. You nodded.
"God, right. Totally horrific." You paused, biting your lip and shifting the weight on your feet, flittering your eyes around the store, which refused to present itself as anything but empty and disappointing. "Hey, does a guy named Steve work here?" you asked, forcing a weak noise out of the girl who, in all of her nuances, seemed mildly perturbed, yet mostly intrigued at the question.
"You came here for Steve, really?"
"No, I came here to rent movie, but also know that he works here and thought I might run into him." She smiled like you might smile at a dumb little kid with a lisp, pronouncing their words all funny and stumbling over their own feet. "I'm having a thing," you explained, response stilted and lacking probability, "with friends," you added.
"So, you came here to invite Steve to a thing with friends?"
"No, I came here to rent a movie for the thing with friends. I want to talk to Steve because it's been, like, forever, and I want to catch up. Like, congeniality, you know?" She shook her head, tapping her foot up a down behind the counter and grinning at the ground. You found her humor about it all intensely intolerable and grimaced fruitlessly at her out of touch flannel.
"He's in the back. I can get him?"
"Is that weird, though? I feel like it's kind of weird because I don't want to seem creepy and desperate or anything like that. I'm, like, chill, you know?"
"Right, yeah." She pressed her lips together, furrowing her brow in a faux concentration that struggled to hide her amusement. "I could not get him?" 
"Maybe it's for the best. I mean, we have grown apart, per the four thousand miles between us, of course."
"Of course," she nodded, shooting a concealed aura of discomfort in your direction. It became garishly clear that she knew next to nothing about you. "Are you sure you don't want to talk to him? Trust me, he doesn't have anything going on."
"Yeah, I mean, it's probably totally pointless because he definitely barely remembers me. I mean, like, it's been so long and so much has happened here. It's probably totally pointless." You tapped your heel against the floor, the incessant, upbeat tempo of your nerves infecting every movement. The counter girl just sort of smiled again, that soft, perturbed smile that made you want to gouge your eyes out just to prove her wrong. It all came out surface-level and airy when you didn't know what to say, or what exactly you meant with what you said. You meant that you missed him. You supposed that was obvious, embarrassingly so.
"I'll get Steve," she assured, hitting the counter with her palms before turning to the back.
The world turned blue, and everything was old again. It felt like fourteen and the top of the stairway, you in that hideous pink dress and Steve in his dad's old suit, the clapping maid and the absence of your father's silent stare. Carol had run up to meet you, dragging you down the steps and screaming in your ear about Tommy and his suit that matched her dress and the limo he rented and all of that stupid stuff. Steve kept looking and smiling, and he held out his hand when you got the bottom, and he walked you to the car, and he whispered to you about how horrible your date was for bailing on you an hour before the dance. He was there so it was fine, you said. You told him that he made it okay.
You remember so vividly: his new hair, his new height. He had a polo shirt on that you so horrifically recognized. It was like spasm all up your legs and into your torso, causing you to twist into an insufferable bend, all that salty nostalgia.
"Hey," he addressed, and even though it was almost as if, as he looked right at you, that he wasn't quite sure who you were, it sounded like all of those tainted memories all wrapped up in one. 
"Hi, sorry," you drawled, falling into a reliable stance, tilting your hip and head, and grinning like a winner with your awe-struck eyes. "I just got back a little bit ago." A silence, and a memory, and a reprise. "I thought it would be fun if I said hi in person, you know, instead of just calling."
He smiled like a boy, and he glanced to counter girl, a lackluster confusion washing over him.
"Well, um, you met Robin." He held his hand out in her direction, gesturing at her as she grinned again, turning to re-adjust some tapes to the side. She waved. "She's kind of, like, my only friend, so," he trailed of, leaning of the counter with his palms pressing down onto it, stripped of all previous charm and utterly perplexed by your appearance.
"Right, because everyone thinks you're a total loser now. Totally forgot."
"Yeah, nice to see you too."
-
Steve liked his coffee with cream, but he'd never admit it out loud. It was the sort of thing he did in silence, slipping sugar and milk into his drink without a word or a glance. Despite this pattern of his past, he looked you right in the eye as he dumped a mountain of creamer in his mug. But it wasn't like he meant it in some sort of big, monumental way, not like it was a sign of any larger change. He had been talking about his friends, the little kids, and Nancy, and her hipster boyfriend, and all of these people you'd seen as footnotes in high school. He'd moved so comfortably into your margins, it nearly made you sick. 
"Do you still have that dumb, terminal obsession with her?" (On Nancy, and on her happy, idyllic relationship). 
"Oh, course. I'm emotionally stunted and incapable of moving on, just like always." He laughed. It only felt a little bit insulting, the kindness in it. If you had asked him the same thing junior year he would've given you angry-punchy-guy face and told you to fuck off. The bloody, past-filled rift only grew.
"I'm just curious." You had a sip of your coffee, hiding behind the lack of emotion in your tone. There were lots of pauses between sentences and longing looks out the window from Steve, all of which reminded you of the rain after the dance, and the way he drove you home, filling the silence with an old CD and the occasional jab at your messy hair. To him, though, it must've just been run-of-the-mill awkward, uncanny even. You were never a particularly brief person, not when you had him all alone like this.
"I get that you hate Nancy's guts, but if you wanna be my friend again, you're gonna have to tolerate her. You don't get to avoid anyone here."
"I don't hate her, she's lovely." You grinned this horrifically petty grin; it made him roll his eyes.
He shifted in his seat: "Why'd you come back? Last I heard you were coming around to the Brits."
"Well, my dad was pissed at me. Plus, I got in this really crazy car accident, and it just felt dumb to stay, I guess." He furrowed, leaning in a bit.
"Car accident?" His friendly concern was demeaning; giving a shit was never his strong suit, not with you. 
You nodded, "Yeah, I mean, this guy lent me his car after a party. We were both wasted, and the roads are really different over there, and it was dark, and I really should've been in a cab. It was fine, just the last straw." The whole ordeal had left you with a bottlecap sized scab on your forehead. You felt like a hooligan for weeks. Everyone brushed it off and said it was so predictable, so laughably you. It felt like hell, being the kind of girl that people don't miss.
"Shit, that sucks." 
"I know, my life is miserable." You finished off your coffee with a quick swig. "On the bright side, I have lots of money." Your hand passed over your mouth, wiping off not only your the remains of your latte, but also the day, and the nerves, and the idea you had that maybe he would look at you and it would be like you made it seem with your stories. You had hoped, like a little girl, that life would become suddenly truncated, the bad getting mixed indiscriminately in with the good, and it would be love.
"And me," he added on, melt-worthy and ignorant in all of his big-hair, happy-smile glory. 
"A small condolence," you teased, and he shrugged it off charitably. You managed to make it back to your house just before the thunder hit.
-
He wanted to leave, blaming it on the guilt of imposing, but no one was home, not even the housemaid, and it would've been stupid to send him away. There was a half-empty beer left on the side table from the previous night's gathering. When he asked if you'd been drinking, the lighting hit, and you became a girl made of stone. It invoked lots of head shaking and smiling and assuring; he was so effortlessly concerned, and it felt very real, but hatred was still your essence, and he was still Steve.
"Honestly, I'd kill for a beer right now," he admitted, sinking into your sofa. "Long fucking day." 
"Is it not always a long day when you're working a minimum wage job at a movie store?" He gave a grimace, but it meant well, and it all felt warm despite the storm.
"I get Thursdays off." He threw his arm over the back of the couch, leaning in a bit, sort of like a date would, but also sort of like an uncle might, one that really wants to know if you have a boyfriend or if you've been to any fun parties lately. It was mildly unreadable. "You ever gonna get a job, miss trust fund?" He was lower, and softer, and everything all at once, just like in high school and in the days before the reign of Nancy.
"Marriage and motherhood, eventually, I guess." He frowned. "I must fulfill the prophecy. But, of course, good men don't marry small town sluts." His hand made it's way to your shoulder, furrowed brow becoming endless in depth, and eyes widening vast against the rainy, blurring background.
"You're not a slut," he said, and it was such a vivid reminder of before, him pulling away your drink and him scolding you for bad behavior. "Don't say that shit. Trust me, hating yourself that much is gonna drive you crazy." He rendered you silent for a cheap second, pulling some of the bricks off your face, before swiftly re-taping your armor with a tilt and bite of his cheek. He was still Steve, and he was still that same douche, same cologne and clothes and face, just nicer with his words, but never mercy.
"You still want that beer?" You faltered a little, but you smiled, and it made him wilt a bit.
"I'm serious." The eye contact felt like purgatory. "But, yes. I want the beer."
-
He was in awe of your room, likening it to time capsule as he messed with the trinkets on top of your dresser. 
It felt like some sort of joke, the way he sympathized with your isolation all while bonding with your distaste for the universe. He was the sort of guy you'd always wanted him to be, but it was also cruel, because now you were the only dick in the room, the only selfish, insecure rich kid that liked to kick others down a peg for looking at the them the wrong way. He was perfect and holy and happy, talking to you like you were the same, the same sort of born-again changeling of a person, someone who could just forget the ties that always bound you to jerk-hood. 
"Is this supposed to be you?" he asked, holding up a small, angelic looking Precious Moments figurine. 
"A gift from step-monster number one. She definitely wanted me dead, but it was a nice thought." You grabbed the porcelain girl from him, placing her back down in her dust-free spot next to the mosaic cat your dad picked up for you in Barcelona, one of the many kid-free vacations you envied him for. He scoffed, but it didn't feel mean when he turned to face you, leaning against the dresser and pining you in place with a very Steve stare. "What?" you questioned, instinctively sounding very naive with it.
"I missed your room. It's so perfect, it's almost kinda scary."
"It missed you too," you said, gesturing to a tiny, framed photo of Steve and you from freshman year. He was wearing a sombrero and you were grinning like a tired dog. It was surreal to glance between it and him so quickly. He laughed, shaking his head.
"That's a horrible picture of me. Like, really, tremendously, bad." His lips went thin as he squinted at the photo. "My hair is so depressingly floppy."
"And absurdly voluminous and bird-nesty is any better?"
"Don't make fun of my hair." He pointed a stick-straight finger right up near your nose, a few inches from your face, just like you had to Carol, but closer and kinder and intimate in this odd, childish sort of way. "I'll slaughter you." When you went to bite the finger, he flinched, pulling his hand back down to his side with a breathy chuckle. 
"I'd like to see you try." You walked over to your nightstand, turning on your girly lamp and adjusted your crooked alarm clock. You tried your best to tuck your weekly pill container behind the tissue box, some small attempt to seem average amongst the onslaught of implications that came along with all the clear signs of wallowing. Your trash can was full of used Kleenex, your desk untouched despite your bedspread being unsightly and out of place, your pillow unfluffed and your duvet unfolded. Rosa Waters, the kind, underpaid soul she was, somehow managed to quell the closest chaos every so often, but it was still subtly disturbing.
"I missed this bed too." He followed you, falling back onto your bed with a hearty flop. "You think I can stay the night? It's late and I really don't wanna face my parents right now." He ran a heavy hand through his hair, looking to you with a false smile and a decent hope.
"You can stay in the guest room." You kicked at his dangling leg, and he grinned. "Be warned, though, my dad's new wife redecorated and she put this creepy old doll on the bookshelf. She says it's an heirloom, but I think it's cursed with the ghost of her dead ex-husband. I have this whole theory that she murdered him and he's come back for revenge."
"Should I be worried? Will it, like, scratch at my ankles or something?"
"No, but it'll haunt your dreams and make you piss your pants when you see it glaring at you in the dark." He sat up, reaching out to grab your arm. He spun you toward him, pulling you over until you bumped into his knees. Deja vu felt like an anvil, falling in slow motion from the ceiling and imbedding itself in your ruined skull. "You'll survive," you muttered, foolishly flustered and, like always and before, crumbling just a little. His giddiness flattened. Something intolerable in him was still careless.
"Are you really gonna make me sleep in the creepy doll room?" Both of his hands slid to your wrists, thumbs rubbing absentmindedly at your pulse. You wondered if he could feel it fluctuate, rise and fall with every one of his dramatic, heavy breaths. Up close he looked older, you could really see it, but he still wore the same scent, and so the eras melded painfully, forcing you into an unsteady haze. "I am sitting on a perfectly good, decent-sized, non-doll-adjacent bed right now, you know."
"You can't sleep in my bed, Steve. You're a boy." It made him laugh, and he tugged on your arms, causing you to stumble into him. You tutted sharply, shaking your head. "It's just wrong." He sighed, shoulders falling forward and head slumping down towards his knees. You frowned at his ultimate boredom, realizing him to be incapable of putting any type of show before resulting to blunt flirtation. You used to credit him for being at least a little artful about it.
"It's been a while," he admitted. You recoiled.
"God, you're such a pig." It was a half insult, the sort of you thing you throw out there to express disgust in a small, light way. You hands slipped from his but your feet stayed planted to the ground, enough to make him reach but not enough to make him deflate. "And I thought you liked me for my brains." You glared at his slight disappointment. When you were sixteen it wouldn't have been much of a request; you were so fatally obsessed with him then, and so horrifically immature, that it was never a what if, just a what is.
"Man has layers." He grabbed at you again, pulling you back in and tilting his head up at yours. "Come on, you're back, and we're both single. Dating has just been so dogshit lately, I can't do it anymore."
"Right, so rent a porno and cry about it. Don't fuck with me, I'm old and I don't like it anymore." He winced, but he persisted like he didn't agree, hands sliding up to your elbows, tugging at you despite your floppy arms rejecting his affections. "I mean, you're the one who always got on my case about being a pushover."
"I'm not fucking with you." You pulled away from his hands, but they went to your waist, fingers dipping under your shirt, just like in the closet or at the party or beside the pool, just like always and before. He was still Steve, still a big ball of walking nostalgia, poking and prodding at your resolve. "I'm not fucking with you," he repeated, "and you're not old, and I'm not trying to push you over." He was being so mean and you just wanted to crush his head between your palms, squeezing it until it cracked and bled, forcing him to feel the sting too.
"This is dumb." You shook your head, mouth contorting into something painful, an unwelcome resemblance to the past. "This is dumb, Steve. You'll take it back tomorrow."
"No, no I won't." He stood up. He put your face between his hands, and knocked you down to your real size, two inches tall and withering away in the pounding weather, the unrelenting rain. "I won't take it back, swear. It's different now." You shook your head again, but his hands held it still, and he pushed you back into form, made you stand up straight and look back at him. "I won't take it back." His faux mantra was like gospel, and it slithered it's way into your head like it always did. 
"Yeah, you will, 'cause you always do and it's never different." His skin felt like sandpaper against yours, digging holes into your complexion and filling them with acid, leaving you with a nasty burn. He let his nose bump against yours, and you swallowed thick (it was the love, falling straight from your fuzzy head right down to your sick stomach).
"You do realize that we aren't kids anymore, right? I get that I was a prick, but I'm not that guy now. Besides, you were the only person that really gave a shit back then. If you can tolerate that Steve, you gotta at least have a little bit of soft spot for this one, huh?" If you were sixteen and a little more drunk you would've gone with it, melting into him and kissing him and telling him you're so glad, so glad it started storming, that God must be on your side for once. He would've laughed and thought you naive, but it would've sounded genuine enough, and it would've felt like paradise for an hour or two.
"Just because you had a few dud dates doesn't mean we suddenly make sense." You bitch faced his baby eyes. He tightened.
"Okay, fine. We don't make sense, never did. I don't care." He shrugged, hands drifting to your jaw, your neck, squeezing you into a momentary silence, just to get it out. "It doesn't have to be, like, all annoying and complicated. I've got enough of that already." You scoffed because you swore he'd said something like that before. It felt juvenile and perfect.
"Okay," you said, and he kissed you like he always had, a slight push and pull, and with little care for tangled hair or finnicky accessories. Still, the sense of urgency you often recalled, the tonal shift from suave and movie-esc to that certain type of angry you only see in exasperated parents or overworked blue collars, the general malaise that had always lined his bones, it dissipated, and he only seemed distantly motivated by his own, humble loneliness.
He pulled away; "You sure?" he asked, but it was a bit airy and bit mindless, so you weren't entirely certain it meant much of anything besides on-paper courtesy. Nevertheless, as the rain picked up, the question felt so foreign and his honesty felt so tangible, you bit your lip not to scream about it.
"Yeah, of course." You laughed. He kissed you again, a faltering, hesitant smile printing itself against your mask of jolly. "I could never say no to you," you muttered, and it must've burned a bit, because he recoiled just like you had, pausing to give you a poignant look, hands twitching at your shoulders. Your smile took over the bottom half your face, consuming your stovetop cheeks with glittery malice. "You know that." You pushed at his arm, playful even with your cruel, fake little doll face. 
"I know what you're doing." When he stopped touching you it was like every other time, every other morning goodbye because you were bad at pillow talk and it made him pissy, the taunting and nagging and making fun. "I'm old and I don't like it anymore," he teased, the push and pull, fighting back with his Steve eyes and his Steve face and his Steve stature, albeit a bit more homely than you remembered. When you were teenagers it was exhilarating to make him feel guilty for being close, reeling him back in once the farce got too mundane.
"Right, 'cause this is all totally uncomplicated and definitely not annoying. I should be normal." Your hands were linked behind his neck, roping his body to yours, forcing him closer even as he doubted your wavering truth. You hadn't thoroughly considered that he'd want to call bull on it all, all of the kid-like pretending you were so accustomed to. You cleared your throat, softening your expression the best you could, vile smile falling gradually into an upturned approval. 
"Just be you," he whispered.
It all dissipated fantastically. He tasted like ham sandwich and lemonade. Eyes closed, he felt like a boy, like always.
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theineffablesociety · 1 year ago
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I'd like to plan a Good Omens meetup for Saturday October 19th, 2024. Poll below!
Edit: If you're looking for the Discord link, please message me!
We're currently looking at a hotel in Langhorne, PA that has a good bit of space. Just need to see about availability and cost.
For our immunocompromised and vulnerable fellow fans who plan to attend, we're going to include a masking policy in our event spaces and hallway/foyer outside those rooms. We'll have extras available.
All ages welcome; under 18 must attend with a guardian.
-
Start original message:
The Ineffable Society Meetup is a thought that's brewed in my brain since June 2023 when a bunch of local GO fans chanced to meet for the first time at the King of Prussia PA screening of series 2 episode 1 and 2.
It is time to stop brewing and let others contribute.
Here's my initial thoughts:
I'm willing to organize but not alone. We'll need to work together.
I live near Philadelphia, PA so this is the area I'm willing to do what needs doing primarily in Eastern PA, Central NJ, surrounding areas therein.
I'd want everyone attending to be 18 or older, please. I encourage those 17 and under to organize something together!
Taking suggestions for type of venues to host, think like a family reunion or larger.
I'm not interested in handling money, so would seek at least 2 people to oversee financials if that comes into play. (Finances might be needed to cover renting a space, any printed materials, little swag gifts.)
As mentioned, Saturday October 19th. Because it's close to the Earth's Birthday. :3
Afternoon through evening could be good. Maybe a 3 hour window on the small end; most of the day on the larger end. Will depend on location and on how many helpers step up.
Good Omens related fun: encouraging cosplay, script book readings, discussions, games, swaps. Maybe screening an episode together (there's copyright law to contend with here though). Depending on how much time we have together and space. Simplest plan would be an informal Good Omens afternoon mixer type.
If fewer than 12 people are interested:
We could just meetup at a restaurant that has a function room! (Not super ideal for allergies, as there's probably nowhere that's good for everyone. But does it in a pinch. And would probably not be a big up-front cost. Often there's a small room fee and then the assumption everyone will eat.)
If more than 12 up to 40 people are interested:
We might consider renting some conference rooms at a small hotel. (That does make it easier for people to find accommodations: already there! At a hotel! Downside is this will require chipping in.)
Any more than 40 people and uhhh... We'll figure it out.
WHAT I NEED TO KNOW FROM YOU
There will be more questions to follow, but most important one is below.
Please answer YES if you are:
A Good Omens fan
18 or older
In the Eastern PA to Central NJ area
Or are otherwise willing, able, and interested to go there
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For transparency. A little about me:
I'm North (SeedsOfWinter). They/he.
Over the past two and a half decades, I've organized or been a member of organizations that planned meetups, game nights, reunions, and nerd events for friends and strangers alike.
I've been a Good Omens fan since June 2019. I run @rareomens. I am a mod for @ineffableeraszine and @bildadzine. I was a mod for the Our Side Zines, Pin Me Up 2, and many more. I was a founding admin for the LGBTQIA+ Fans of Good Omens groups.
I've been part of convention presentations for Good Omens at The Ineffable Con (virtual) and DragonCon (in-person, Atlanta GA). I love to organize fan photoshoots and meetups.
I know that any attempt at gathering people requires a team to make it happen; and that there's pitfalls and perils to all of it, especially when you're dealing with a bunch of possible strangers meeting for the first time! But the end result (you all getting a chance to connect together as fans) is feeling pretty worth it.
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askthehoverbase · 2 months ago
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WELCOME TO THE WORST PLACE TO LIVE IN THE ENTIRE MULTIVERSE!
[Asks in queue: 1] | [ON A SLIGHTLY BIGGER THAN ANTICIPATED HIATUS]
This is the Hover Base, a huge floating castle that was once called home by a guy named Failboat, back when he was less interested in dimension-hopping and pink gumballs, and more interested in eating redstone and stopping wars. However, nowadays, due to a series of really hard to explain incidents, we've got a slightly... different cast living here now.
And nothing goes wrong. Ever.
THE CREW (WIP):
RAPPER FAILBOAT
The version of Failboat behind the iconic diss tracks Dirty Bubblegum Sweater and Boring Bye himself, and the person who is canonically running the ask blog. A sort of confusing, energetic and snappish guy who acts quite differently from his original counterpart, for some reason. There's also the fact that he now starts glitching violently when provoked, despite... not even being a sentient program like Pixelboat? What's up with that?
WINCAR
Failboat's (and Rapper Failboat's, to an extent) emo twin brother who wields a diamond scythe and used to have a devoted fanbase on X.com. This guy is constantly tired and annoyed, yet he still has a soft spot for those close to him. He often stays in his room for weeks on end, researching the Power of the Scythe and its potential origins. In fact, before Rapper Failboat started the ask blog, Wincar hadn't even fully interacted with anybody for at least a couple of months... wonder how that research is even going.
MUTANT CREEPER
2012 modification gone wrong (or right, depending on how you look at it). Despite its devestating explosions and 10+ years of imprisonment, he doesn't have much will left in him to fight and is learning to resolve conflicts peacefully at the moment. Unfortunately, this means that he sometimes gets a bit overshadowed by the rest of the crew. Not that it really minds. Definitely.
He knows that his time in the spotlight is over, that his biggest claim to fame has already passed, so why...
PIXELBOAT
THE prominent icon of the Failboat YouTube channel for around 5 years who still desires his spotlight back in the thumbnails. Probably the only one in the Hoverbase who still has their original motive from back in the mercenary days, Pixelboat holds a one-sided rivalry with Floop, the current mascot of the Failboat YouTube channel. He's tried everything; from nuking the channel banner, to putting himself in random modern thumbnails, to attempting to even find and murder Floop. Sadly, he couldn't find them, so for now he's stuck with nothing to do. Other than pulling pranks on people, of course.
SHARC-CHAN
The older cousin of the much more popular and iconic mii, Shrimp. She used to resent her cousin for making her feel overshadowed, but now? Now she just feels a bit stupid for having beef with an actual child.
BEAMY
Consistent humiliation of his weakness did not stop this powerhouse... unfortunately for everybody at the Hover Base. This guy is just plain weird and annoying, and even though his colorful personality might be a societal norm back on Planet Popstar, in the Hoverbase, it's a bit too much to handle.
...Also FAILWHALE is here too.
Nobody is aware that he even has access to the blog. And, besides, his story is over. What's even the point in talking to him other than insulting him about his humiliating defeat?
RULES:
There WILL be occasional swearing, badly written angst, and maybe even a bit of blood. You have been warned!
Don't be actually rude and spam the ask box or attempt to bully anybody (unless it's Failwhale, then go right ahead). In fact, be silly instead!
NO NSFW OR DEPICTIONS OF GORE. Don't think that anybody here would like to see those types of things!
so I gotta
TAGS:
[Ask the Hover Base! 🌤] - The tags used for all asks, plus some important posts (which will be indicated as not an ask).
[Shenanigans in the Hover Base 💥] - Used for silly/in-character moments that aren't asks.
[HBC lore ⏳] - Lore moments that are exclusive to the Hover Base Chronicles, a.k.a. this blog, and aren't exactly true to the actual Failboat canon. Prepare for cringe.
[Rapper Failboat crashes out 📣] - he does it a lot and will do it again okay????
[Mod Info]
Heyo, it's @funthirtythreethirty, the actual person running this thing. I think that Rapper Failboat is very cool. I need to touch grass more. My narrative writing skills are ass but I'm trying to improve.
And that's all you need to know, bye :]
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nerdieforpedro · 9 months ago
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Empanadas and Chocolate
Part One of Foul Play Series
Javier Peña x Aria Davis (plus size female OC)
My entire masterlist and blog are for readers 18+ MDNI. I do not consent to my work being used in AI, recommended on TikTok, borrowed or plagiarized.
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Summary: The meet cute between Javier Peña and Aria. The beginning of everything.
Warnings: Meet cute, adorable vibes, food, curioisity, (we’re safe this part - we had to start somewhere)
Word Count: a little over 1.8k
Notes: My smut fairy was gone for a very long time. Thanks to @magpiepills and a fic called "Aquarius" that she wrote that was all the right kinds of smutty filth, she inspired me to write this. It's from an old WIP I had started but never finished. Now it is in a completely different direction and one I like. She also beta read some (not the whole thing - gotta surprise her 😘). So here we are. Originally posted on A03.
Main Masterlist/ Javier Peña Masterlist
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Together is what he told you. That you’d go on this journey together and help bring peace to an unsettled country. It’s been eight months and neither the government nor the American agencies involved in trying to take down Pablo Escobar were any closer to ending his reign. What did any of that mean for Aria?
Not much, just looking over the balcony of her small one bedroom apartment provided by the US embassy. Her fiance and her had decided on living separately since they were each entitled to their own places. It seemed like a weird idea at first, but the longer she stayed here, the more sense it made. She wouldn't have to hear him coming and going or worry when he would be home. He rarely was, only to have some mediocre sex, maybe sleep sometimes and leave again citing that he was needed back on the case. Aria sometimes was able to finish on her own, but increasingly she couldn’t even do that, getting tired in the middle of things and giving up to read a book, listen to some music and just sleep. Sleep was what she did best.
It was early yet and the sun was just cresting over the horizon, painting a golden pink across the sky, it was barely six in the morning. One positive for coming here, despite all the violence was the scenery, it was beautiful and so were the people, well those she had met. That was two. She sighed and entered her apartment readying herself for work and headed off to the embassy where she worked as an accountant along with four others in a small office. It was cramped but she got to know them well, all nice, sometimes a little too chatty. Her days were similar, rise, go to work, come home, sometimes see her fiance, fuck, sleep, repeat.
It was on a rare day off during the week where she decided to venture to her favorite little shop down the street. Here she didn’t wear the knee length shirt of buttoned up shirt that fit a little too tight, she could wear a flowing dress with sunflowers on it. It was a gift from an older woman a few doors down. She also often gave her rice, meat, vegetables and other foods, hence why her work clothes didn’t fit as well as they once did. Her build was stocky and dense from head to toe though she did have breasts that stuck out a bit farther than her belly and wide hips so that helped, but in her work clothes she was still self-conscious, she knew it hugged in all of the places good and bad. It was always a button down shirt and skirt. She could get away with a polo shirt or sweater depending on who was in the office but more often than not if their supervisor came in and they weren’t dressed appropriately it was a warning then could progress to a write up. So stupid.
Arriving at the shop, she spied her prizes, empanadas and chocolate cake. She went to order as another person placed theirs, a tall man whose skin had been kissed by the sun, wore dark aviator sunglasses, and had a thick head of hair with a mustache to match. He stood with his hands on his slim hips, a rose pink shirt on with medium wash jeans and what was likely a gun along his back. He was cracking a joke with the señora who ran the shop with her husband. The señora asked for her order again as she had lost her train of thought while looking him up and down.
Unfortunately, it turned out that the handsome stranger had taken the last piece of chocolate cake. Aria pouted but little could be done, she hoped he at least enjoyed it, maybe it was a reward to himself for something that happened that day or week? She just hoped he wasn’t the type to eat a few bites and dispose of it. Taking the three empanadas she ordered, she turned to leave as the señora pointed to her and said her name. Apparently, handsome sunglasses wanted to add empanadas to his order but didn’t tell señora when he got the cake. The accountant had the last of them. He walked over with a smile,
“Disculpe señorita (excuse me miss), could I buy one of the empanadas from you? I just need one.” He asked, almost pleading, how much did he need one? Aria raised a counter offer,
“If you’ll spit half of the cake with me, I’ll give you the empanada at no charge.” She raised a finger. He nodded and waved his hand toward one of the small tables with chairs outside where they could do the exchange. He pulled out her chair for her and Aria thanked him, he said there was no thanks needed, he should be thanking her. He’d been looking forward to the empanadas all week, the señora here makes the best ones. To that, she agreed and pulled out the bag with the rolled and fried goods. Señor brought them plates, some water and napkins, insisting that they eat here. Aria shook her head but aviators nodded and assured her he was alright with it as long as she was, that he would make for good company.
“Alright, let’s exchange and eat. Here.” She took one of the empanadas and placed it on the plate in front of pink shirt. He cut his chocolate cake in half and placed it on her plate.
“Here you go. We’re even.” He chuckled, quickly picking up his newly earned empanada and moaning as he took a bite. “Been thinking about these all day…” His eyes were closed as he chewed slowly, savoring the flavor of the onions, chicken, potatoes and peppers. Aria nodded as she watched his mouth, he smacked his lips before taking another bite and another moan left him. It wasn’t long before she wondered if she should be watching this, it felt like she was intruding on a private moment. She picked up water and downed a few gulps before biting into her own empanada, humming with the flavor.
“Mierda eso esta bien (Shit that’s good).”
Pink shirt had momentarily forgotten that he was sitting in public, with a woman no less. He cleared his throat and drank some sips of his water before muttering sorry to his table mate. She shook her head and told him that the lovely couple who owned the shop would be delighted to know he enjoyed the food that much, plus it was fun to watch him eat. Shaking his head, he asked her how long she had been coming to the little shop and in Columbia in general. Her accent sounded similar to his partner’s - American. She told him eight months in Columbia and six for the shop. It took her a few months to get acclimated at work and to the slower pace. She appeared to indicate that she was enjoying herself but there was a large part he knew she was leaving out: the ring on her left fourth finger. There could be a few reasons she could be leaving out that detail, none of them were good for him. She was definitely easy on the eyes, well scratch that. He found her gorgeous, her smile and laugh and the fair trade was definitely a bonus. He would at least let her know his name before they parted. The city of Bogotá seemed larger than it really was. He learned that she did accounting at the Embassy, he told her that he was with the police - didn’t think she really needed to know he was an agent.
“My name’s Javier, Javier Peña. What’s your’s Mrs?” He finally asked as the stood and disposed of their trash. Her warm smile faded with the question. Did that mean she really was married? Peña wasn’t really up for all the drama that came with that even if she did have hips he wanted to see from the back, a very different angle than he was looking at them now.
“No, no. I’m engaged. It’s…I’m engaged. “ Her nod told him she needed to be convinced she was in fact engaged. Usually engaged couples are supposed to be happy. Not that he wasn’t familiar with how that could burn horribly. It wasn’t his business, though he wondered. “My name is Aria Davis. It’s nice to meet you Javier. Thanks for the cake.” Her smile remained warm, he may see her around at the embassy though he didn’t recall ever meeting her before.
“I see. Well congratulations hermosa (beautiful). He’s a lucky man. Gracias for the empanadas. The señor here makes some of the best ones in Bogotá. I may see you if you come again, I’ll try not to take all the cake this time. I usually don’t eat sweets.” Peña explained, it was true he did not. He’s had another failed raid with no new information found and it would be a day that he forgot to get a new carton of cigarettes. He was on his way to go buy some when he noticed he was passing by señora Hernandez’s tienda (store) so he figured he’d stop in and get the food on the way. He hadn’t eaten all day, plus he’d been meaning to come all week. “Today didn’t go so well so I figured I’d get something on my way.” He paused. Did she walk here?
“Do you need a ride home, Aria?” He tilted his head in the direction of his car to which Aria shook her head.
“Oh no I live close by. Thank you though. I’m going home after this. Just going to relax a bit before work tomorrow.” Aria’s smile didn’t falter and Javier was curious, shouldn’t she be mentioning spending time with her fiancée? He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a bent card. He handed it to her and she took it reading it over, her eyes revealed her surprise but she didn’t mention that she’d heard of him. Aria assumed he didn’t want to talk about it.
“Here’s my card just in case. Bogotá is beautiful but can be dangerous. Call me if you need help okay?” The nod and grin that followed made her giggle. “I’ll come running and may speed a bit.” Javier cracked a small joke, it was a bad though but she didn’t seem to mind.
“I’ll remember that Javier. I do pretty well at staying out of trouble though.”
“Trouble has a way of finding people Aria.” Peña took a step closer and spoke in her ear. “Call me Javi. Stay safe hermosa.” With that he turned and walked to his car, getting in and waving to her before putting one hand on the steering wheel and driving off.
Aria was left standing with Javier’s lingering words and his breath on her ear. The food in her belly wasn’t the only thing heating it from within. Peña wasn’t wrong. Trouble had found her.
Part Two
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Dipping their empanadas in chocolate for Javi to lick off 🍫: @syd-djarin @megamindsecretlair @soft-persephone @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @guelyury
@yorksgirl @indiegirlunited @readingiskeepingmegoing @fhatbhabiee @javierpena-inatacvest
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vintagenetwork · 1 year ago
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All I've Ever Desired: Resurfaced Memories
2012!Leo x Fashion Model Reader
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A/N: Hi tumblr! Okay, please bare with me because I'm a little new to this place, but I've been DYING to write this ongoing series. Hope you enjoy! :)
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You were a fashion model, he was a crime-fighting leader in blue. You and Leo shared a long past as friends back in highschool, hoping to grow even closer than ever. You were going abroad to Italy to pursue the dream of becoming a fashion designer, then return back to NYC just like you planned. Until one day you got separated from the family after the Krang took over New York, leaving the turtles to run to April’s farm house while you were nowhere to be found. Three years have passed, and an upcoming fashion show is taking place in the city. As advertisements covered the streets, Leo would've never believed the girl who stole his heart and disappeared would be starring the front covers.
Word count: 2.2k
Warnings: Angst, use of Y/N
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The sound of laughter rang through the cool night air, I watched my brothers sit in a circle as April walked toward them with a box of pizza in hand. We just had to celebrate another mission, I wasn’t too fond of being so out in the open though, especially with how loud Mikey was talking and the recent discovery last night. It was one thing to deal with the Krang, but now them working alongside the Footclan? Could’ve fooled me. “Always on the lookout, aren’t you, Blue?” Her voice chirped from behind. I could already see the smile painted on her face as her footsteps grew closer. “Someone’s gotta keep watch,” I muttered in response, leaning back against a wall. She sighed as she swung her legs over the edge of the rooftop. “You know I was against us coming back up here. We’re supposed to lay low, especially now that the Footclan is teaming up with the Krang.” “You worry too much, you know that?” She tilted her head back toward me, that smug smile still on her face. That damn smug smile. “I mean, there’s nothing wrong with that, but, if you keep this up you’re gonna start like, shedding your shell from stress-!” “Turtles don’t shed.” She huffed a laugh as she shook her head.
“Yes, they do. And what I’m trying to say is that you need to relax, Leo,” I watched her swing her legs back onto the rooftop, dusting her pants off before walking toward me.  “You and the gang deserve a break-! Besides, how many more times are you gonna get moments like this?” Our direction turned toward Mikey belching in Raph’s face, a visible vein throbbing on his forehead as he clenched his fists.
However, before I could make my way over to break up an upcoming fight, the sudden warmth that enveloped my hand caused me to freeze. 
“You’re an amazing older brother and leader,” Y/N continued, her fingers slipping in between mine. “They all look up to you, and they know they can depend on you. Even Raph. We’ll be ready when the Krang and Footclan come down our path. But for now, you need to take one shell of a break.” I felt my eyes roll to the back of my head at that last sentence, her laughter at the ridiculous pun cracking me a smile. 
“You’re gonna tell me all of that then ruin the moment for a stupid pun? Guess you can call me shell-shocked.” Now her eyes were rolling back as she tried to hide her smile.
“Hey-! If you guys still want your slice, you better hurry up before Mr. No-Manners downs it in the next three seconds!” Raph called out, headlocking Mikey to the ground as he chanted ‘uncle’ endlessly. Casey filmed the whole showcase, cackling like a witch as Donnie poked Raph with the end of his staff in hope to calm things down (things did not calm down). The two of us exchanged a small smile before walking back to join the rest of the group, my hand still clasping hers before we released hold. For a split second, it felt as if she didn’t want to let go just yet.
I didn’t either.
⇷^⇸
“Thanks for getting pizza this time, April,” You sighed, plopping next to her orange-haired friend in exhaustion. “I know how packed that stupid pizza parlor can get.” “No worries, I get my pay back when one of these four scare the hell outta those delivery guys on their little vespas,” She laughed in response, sliding the box toward you. “Speaking of vespas… are you gonna… you know?” You froze mid-bite at April, choking on the dough, tomato sauce, and cheese as the boys turned their attention to your coughing fit.
“I, uhm, I was hoping to… tell them a little later,” You squeaked in response. The sound of your nails digging into the styrofoam plate caused Donnie to raise a non-existent eyebrow, his brown eyes meeting Leo’s confused look.
“Is there something you wanna tell us, Y/N?” You jumped at Donnie’s question as you lifted your gaze from the plate. Now your look met everyone’s stares, including April’s supportive one. 
“Nope! Well… Not uh, really relevant until later this year,” You replied, biting the inside of your cheek.
“Oooooo! What’s happening later this year?” Mikey teased as he laid flat on his plastron. “You getting married~?” “WHAT?!” You and Leo screeched, Leo’s voice however, was much more high-pitched. As Leo looked away from the eyes on him, you scrambled to get your words together. “I am NOT getting married, Mikey. Let me make that clear to EVERYONE.” “So, if you aren’t getting married,” Casey started, freezing mid sentence at your glare.
“Then what’s happening ‘later this year?’” Raph finished, resting his arm on his knee. Now the spotlight turned back to you, silence along with the faint car honks leaving you to respond. You dug your fingers into your pants, trying to spill the words like a can of beans. This really was one shell of a situation. Heh, Leo would’ve loved that…Leo…
“April, Casey, and…uh, turtles,” You started, taking in a deep breath. Another few moments of silence passed as you felt your throat slowly starting to close up. But, you knew you had to get this over with, the weight will probably kill you at this point if you don't tell the truth. 
“I’m gonna be moving abroad for school in three months. I’ll be in Italy for college to become a designer. Fashion designer specifically.” As you paused for a moment, you saw the shocked faces of your friends before you. April gave your hand a gentle squeeze to continue.
“I… don’t know when I’ll be back specifically,” You dropped your head, staring at the leftover pizza crust. By now, Mikey would’ve snatched and stuffed it in his mouth, but from the sudden change in atmosphere, you understand why it’s still sitting on the plate. “And I would turn down the offer to go to school here-” “Then why won’t you?!” Casey blurred out as he sat up straight. “NYU is only, what,  a couple of blocks away? Wouldn’t it be cheaper to stay here and take whatever fashion class they had? You’ll probably be saving an arm and a leg flying over there AND renting a dorm-!” Even though none of them showed it, the brothers agreed in silence as they looked back at you for a response. “She’s going to Italy because she got a full scholarship, dingus,” April glared at his interruption. “If she could stay here she obviously would. But, it’s her life and her choices to make, not ours… even though… I wish I could convince you outta this somehow.” With a light hearted chuckle, April released your hand as she stood up, clenching her fists.
“I wasn’t planning on telling you guys yet, especially with everything going on but… I’m a little glad I got it done and over with. Probably would’ve hurt more if I told you later on anyways.” Your heart ached at the turtles’ stares, especially Leo’s. Just looking at his eyes spoke millions of words, his lips slightly agape as you looked away. But two words specifically rang in your head after reading his plea:
 Don’t go.
“WE’LL MISS YOUUUUUUUU~!” Mikey cried as he wrapped his arms around your neck, full on wailing into your shoulder. You chuckled softly as you patted the back of his shell trying to soothe the youngest brother. You were gonna miss the sewer murals you’ve worked on together…
“Hey hey, calm down, Mikey! It’s not like I’m leaving tomorrow!” You tried to brush it off, gently prying Mikey off you to look into his eyes. “We still have another good three months together, and you already know damn well we're gonna make the best of it.” “So you’ll finally try my homemade pizza-bite cereal and grand algae slushies?!” “Don’t push your luck.” “Worth a shot.”
“This was really unexpected, Y/N…” Donnie rubbed the back of his neck as he stood up. “B-but of course, we’ll wish the best for you in Italy! The architecture and landmarks there are astounding, especially with the history behind them. Uh, promise to send us photo cards?” “I promise I’m gonna call you guys everyday, Don,” You grinned as you offered a reassuring squeeze on his shoulder. “Maybe you can give me a history lesson about the country, or show me tips on how to survive over there.” Donnie’s sad expression wavered at your response, his smile growing as he patted the back of your hand.
“Hey, think about the positives-!” Raph said, resting his elbow on top of Mikey’s head. “She’ll be heading off to pursue her dreams and we finally have more room in the lair! No more listening to hair dryers early in the morning or her screwing up our missions somehow.” The group, especially Leo, all turned to glare at the him as he let out a chuckle. You did the same though, shaking your head as you laughed to yourself.
“Oh, I’m so gonna miss you, big guy,” You sighed, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I’ll make sure I’ll make Mikey find the best possible ways to annoy you in my honor…” Raph scoffed as he placed his hands on his sides, feeling the weight of your chin on his shoulder. “Promise me you’ll always take good care of the family…alright?” Within the silence, you smiled to yourself as you felt a hand gently pat your lower back in response.
“Three months away, so right when we graduate you’re kissing April and I goodbye?” Casey questioned as he leaned on his hockey stick. “Guess it’s back to good ol’ Red and I. Why’s it always the chicks that gotta leave?” Casey was immediately met with scolding from April, playfully smacking his head while he cowered and tried to shield himself.
You pulled your gaze away from April’s parenting instincts to turn to Leo, who just happened to be staring back at you. Stepping away from the group’s loud antics, you and the turtle stood infront of each other as the once melodic mood turned melancholic. 
“I was planning to tell you first, by the way,” You broke the silence, holding onto yourself as you tried to keep your composition. “Leo, please trust me when I searched for so many different ways to try and come to this outcome. And… Now the more I think of it, the more I’m starting to regret i-”You were cut off mid sentence, however, as a pair of hands held yours ever so gently. You remained quiet once Leo gave you a serious yet soft look. 
“Y/N, I don’t want you to be reluctant about your goals because of  us,” Leo started, his thumb softly brushing back and forth against the back of your hand. “Getting a scholarship is amazing, and I’m genuinely proud of you. You’ve made your choices and you have your dreams, so hurry up and chase them. Then, come back to us, alright?”
You felt water appear at your lash line, you thought you were gonna break down right then and there from the sweet words the turtle had to say. Quickly, you two hugged each other as tight as possible, faces burying into each others’ shoulders as you refused to let go. You were going to miss goofing off with Mikey, learning from Donnie, pissing off Raph, hanging out with Casey and April… but most of all you were going to miss your leader in blue.
“I’ll be back here before you guys know it,” You smiled, reluctantly pulling away from his grip. “Besides, three months to hang around with you guys? That’s more than enough time to have a Space Heroes marathon, no?” You could feel Leo’s smile  as he chuckled to himself, the two of you walking side by side back toward the group.
“More than enough time…” He repeated to himself. Maybe for once, life would treat him and his brothers right. They’ll get rid of any dangers lurking within the city, he’ll become a true leader, and he’ll spend as much time with his friends before they all go their separate ways.
.
.
.
But life isn’t always fair; it never was, in fact.
Krang everywhere. The skies were rolling with gray, not a pinch of sunlight shining down on the chaotic streets of NYC. The screams and wails of citizens grew louder as droids destroyed anything and everything in its path. One thing led to another, from April accidentally bringing a droid to the lair, to Leo and Splinter getting separated from the group, everything felt like a blur.
The gang was crowded in April’s apartment. Everyone was arguing on how to get out of the city, where to go and how to get there. It was quickly interrupted when a turtle in a blue mask flew through the window, shattered glass flying everywhere. Hearts dropped the moment he came crashing down onto the floor.
Leo swore he could’ve heard the desperate cries of his name as his vision faded in and out of view. Why couldn’t he move? Why couldn’t he get up and tell everyone that he’s okay and they had to find Master Splinter? 
Why couldn’t he be strong?
The last thing Leo remembered was his brothers laying him down in the back of a van, the engine humming as doors slammed shut. Then he heard a scream, punches flying and struggle depicted. The weight of his brothers on the car was lifted followed by more faint screaming and yelling. Some were of anguish, others were in anger and frustration. Their voices kept on repeating a name… your name.
Again, everything was a blur. After waking up after who knows how long, Raph explained to him about how they escaped to April’s old farmhouse and everything that happened… almost everything.
“As we were getting into the van, some special force group…” Donnie started, lowering his head toward the ground. “They saw us, and assumed we were the bad guys… or, something like that.” “She charged toward them as they started shooting at the van,” Raph sounded tired, he looked just as tired physically. “They didn’t aim at her, thankfully. But… they took her.” Leo nearly collapsed forward before April and Mikey helped him settle on the sofa, feeling more dizzy than ever. You’ve been taken? You’ve been in danger this whole time and here he was, unable to even stand up for more than five minutes. Fear overcame him, not only for Master Splinter or his family, but for you too. 
The moment they returned to New York, successfully defeating the Krang and reuniting with Master Splinter, everyone searched top to bottom. April broke into your apartment, but the paint on the walls crumbling off and trash scattered across the floor showed that no one has been here for a long time. Donnie tried calling your phone, your T-phone, emailing, even trying to get in contact with your parents to get word that you’re okay somehow. Defeat never felt heavier.
Everyone was drained, but the person taking it the hardest was Leo. Calling your phone just to listen to your voice on the voicemail, or dropping by your old apartment to collect anything special lying around. The night he found a picture of you on your vanity, he decided that was the last thing to grab before avoiding that building for the rest of his life. Now that beautiful photo of you was placed on the shelf in the dojo, resting next to the family portrait of Master Splinter and his first family. 
Eventually, time passed and life went by, yet things seemingly never changed within the family. Other than April and Casey starting a relationship together and his brothers still being the goofballs, you were nothing more than a memory. Crime in New York had dropped tremendously thanks to the gang, and for once, they could all finally live without any problems.
One night, however, everything would change. As the brothers got ready to cut their nightly patrol short due to an incoming storm, the four turtles hopped down a nearby fire escape. Leo watched Mikey step on the cold metal plate, but something distracted him, leading him to gasp wide and sway back and forth. “DUDES-!” Mikey yelled, catching his balance with the railing. “That billboard! Right over there! IS that-?!”
His brothers’ attention turned where he was pointing, focusing on a newly installed billboard in the distance. It was for one of those super fancy fashion brands, the bright gold font was almost eyestraining. It featured the title, “Bellezza Per Sempre’’ and a girl wearing a feather boa and black dress, smiling wide with her eyes shut. Leo froze in his tracks as he looked at the girl. No. It couldn’t be. 
His brothers called out his name as he leaped toward the billboard, but he ignored them. His focus was only on one thing as he grew closer and closer. Sliding across the rooftop adjacent to the advertisement, Leo ignored his burning lungs and shaky hands, he couldn’t believe it. It really was…
“Y/N…” Was all he managed to utter before the rain started falling from the night sky.
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dolphingirl1234 · 11 months ago
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ok I'm back its peso this time
here is our tiny medic
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the crown was the closest I could get to his goofy medic hat lmao we can use our imaginations
headcanons yaaaay:
16, joined the octonauts at 14
gender fluid
he/she/they depending on the day (usually its he but it changes occasionally) (I'm just gonna use he/him for this post)
either bi or aromantic I haven't decided yet
bro literally has purple eyes and they're completely natural. no contacts or anything he's just built different like that
his hair is a bit above shoulder length and sometimes he lets dashi play with it but mostly just has it in a really short ponytail
when he first joined the octonauts he was really intimidated by the captain and literally couldn't speak to him without trembling, but after a particularly hard mission barnacles told peso he was proud of him and he immediatly became peso's #1 Role Model
the gup e was made specifically for him, the dashboard is lower to the ground so it's easier for him to reach
he's from Chile, but specifically the part that is part of Antarctica
his whole family lived in Britain most of their lives and even though he grew up in Chile peso kind of adopted their accents
speaks fluent spanish
his massive family group chat which so much spam its crazy
has a whole collection of nice rocks he finds (penguins make nests out of rocks) even though he doesn't need to make a nest its just a habit lol
has severe anxiety but has learned how to manage it after it took over his entire life in med school
he is the youngest of the crew (not counting the vegimals) and he often compares himself to the others
kwazii is basically his older brother and he actually considers barnacles to be his dad. like no joke peso's real dad is dead and peso legitimately thinks of barnacles as his father
thinks barnacles' analogy "to be brave you have to be afraid first" is bullshit but he sees his point and it makes him feel better
he has a passion for mental health studies and he randomly starts spitting facts whenever someone does something than reminds him of a symptom of an illness
he's a great listener
he preens sometimes and kwazii cant get used to it he always thinks peso is stabbing himself
he flaps his wings when he's happy or excited
will stay up late studying medical textbooks to know more even though he literally graduated med school as a child prodigy at the age of 14
he is banned from watching medical dramas because he gets scared he's gonna have to deal with something like that but he watches them anyway and literally analyses everything they do in case he ever does have to do it
bro can swim SUPER fast if he wants to (he doesn't want to)
he likes board games and card games
he's completely obsessed with puzzles. the crew have to physically restrain him from buying them every time they go shopping
has like 23938 family members and at all together they have birthdays every single day of the year so Peso's mornings usually consist of checking his calender and calling like 4 relatives to wish them happy birthday
he wears a scarf most of the time bc its a comfort item and then he overheats and has to take it off and then he cries because he physically needs his scarf to survive but if he wears it he will overheat. its a whole thing
he likes existing. he just has fun yk.
after helping sharks many times in missions he realised how cool and not scary they are and asked shellington to teach him more about them and bro brought out a whole ass series of textbooks
he cries at least 4 times a day (pathetic in the best way possible 💪💪💪)
this man has called barnacles dad "accidentally" so many times
one time barnacles refused to sleep so Peso wrappe his eyes with bandages and tied him to his bed so he would sleep and barnacles had a heart attack in the morning when he woke up and couldn't see or move
he likes lemonade very much. he drinks it religiously its basically the same as water to him
has beef with the diet versions of anything bc he always used to get them bc they have less sugar but then sometimes told him instead of sugar they use other random chemicals and now he's pissed at the companies for lying to him
none of the other crew members ever remember to take their meds so peso asked tweak to make alarms on only the watches of the ones who take meds so they remember to do it
keeps everyones meds and any other medications in a locked cabinet in the sick bay bc the others sometimes joke about k!ll!ing themselves and he's paranoid
he will stand on 14 chairs, 3 boxes and 8 cups stacked on top of each other to reach something on the highest shelf instead of just asking the captain to get it for him (this has happened more than once)
I need to sleep I think my brain is forgetting how to form woords goodnight yallkdnf
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cienie-isengardu · 2 years ago
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Why Kuai Liang was not given his cryomancer power but fire?
After rewatching character intro dialogues from previous games, I think I figure out why Liu Kang changed Kuai Liang into Scorpion/pyromancer in his timeline and the reason is so he did to not have to deal with two cryomancers at the same time AND I’M SAYING IT ONLY HALF-JOKING.
If there are two things we can say about all cryomancers presented in games and old Mortal Kombat Conquest TV series is that they have a rocky relationship with authority and all of them are abrasive, straightforward and challenging, and yes, this applies to Kuai Liang too. He may grow up into wise, patient sage but he was as relentless, aggressive and stubborn in his quest to avenge Bi-Han as the other cryomancers were when dealing with people/situations they did not like or agreed with.
Generally speaking, cryomancers are those who are hard to keep on leash because of their independent streak.
Now, one may ask, but why change Kuai Liang and not Bi-Han, if Grandmaster Kuai Liang dedicated his life to protect Earthrealm while Bi-Han is the best known as evil Noob Saibot?
The thing is, Kuai Liang was loyal to Bi-Han (and Smoke) above everything else and only the devastating experiences like brother’s death, Cyber Initiative project and enslavement under Quan Chi’s magic - and born from it guilt - set him on the path of redemption. This is by no means a critique of Kuai Liang as in majority of “intercarnations” the younger Sub-Zero has the sense of honor from the start however it is personal tragedies that truly force him to face some harsh truth about his clan and his older brother to whom both he was deeply devoted. In a way we may say that Kuai Liang’s redemption arc is a reaction to experienced trauma.
Stripping him from devastating experiences of being changed into a killing machine (or losing best friend to C.I. Project, depending on timeline) and being a slave to dark magic would also strip Kuai Liang from the obstacles he needed to overcome to grow into a wise, patient Grandmaster and dedicated protector of Earthrealm. And in this universe Shang Tsung, Quan Chi and the dark nature of original Lin Kuei were - in theory - eliminated from happening, so Liu Kang would be left with a young, rash, stubborn cryomancer deeply devoted to his older brother above anything else.
And let’s no forget that this cryomancer last time without second thought ignored his superiors’ orders and went on the revenge quest in the name of fallen brother, openly putting family over his life-long oath to Lin Kuei, did not aid Sonya and dying Jax, then disturbed the Mortal Kombat Tournament held in Outworld by demanding from Emperor to bring him Bi-Han’s murderer straight to the Emperor’s face without any hint of respect, and generally, was hell-bent to find and kill Scorpion and all consequences be damned. The nightmare of what he did as Cyber Sub-Zero (MK9) was the first real shock that put him on a different path. But then even as traumatized by tragic events, older Kuai Liang still wasn’t blindly following others’ orders. As intro dialogues presented, he has no respect for whatever gods (he do though respect some godly immortals as individuals) and openly criticized or challenged Raiden’s authority in MK11:
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Sub-Zero: You failed to protect Earthrealm. Raiden: Do you question my authority? Sub-Zero: I demand you renounce it.
or
Sub-Zero: I am grateful that you saved my life. Raiden: So why fight me, Grandmaster? Sub-Zero: To find out whether you are dark or light.
or
Sub-Zero: Do you serve humanity?  Raiden: And the Elder Gods, Sub-Zero.  Sub-Zero: One cannot serve two masters.
And now, strip Kuai Liang from trauma and who knows how much more stubborn and at odds with godly’s authority he would be?
Bi-Han though? When he stole Shinnok’s amulet [Sub-Zero: Mythologies], the action did not right away ruin his life. Raiden warned him about the possible destruction of Earthrealm and with it, Lin Kuei  and demanded to repair damage done, which Sub-Zero agreed to do.
Rayden: Do you realize what you've done?? Sub-Zero: I was just earning my living. Rayden: Your clan's ignorance and greed will cost this entire realm. You must now set things straight. Sub-Zero: Quan Chi could simply be a lunatic sorcerer. I've never heard of an elder god named Shinnok or of a place called the Netherealm. Rayden: Well, you'd better start believing in both, because you're going to the Netherealm and you're going to bring the amulet back.    We must act quickly. I have no dominion in the Netherealm... You are reality's only hope. Sub-Zero: I'll do it, Thunder God... but only because I have no choice.
Bi-Han risked his life and soul to save the whole realm from Shinnok - as Raiden said:  “The Netherealm is a place for lost souls. If you fail, your soul will join theirs… and so will the souls of this entire realm”, however it was Quan Chi who revealed the whole truth: "Don't you realize why Rayden sent you? The Netherealm is a place for evil beings. You could not exist here unless you were tainted with evil."
This knowledge affected Bi-Han yet he still returned to Lin Kuei. Whether he did that because of loyalty to Grandmaster or just for Kuai Liang’s sake is up to debate but what is important, he did not abandon his assassin profession. 
Now, I know that Mortal Kombat 9 (2011) does not dwell much into details and its story mode does not always follow logic in regard to fights each character participated in, yet during the Mortal Kombat Tournament Bi-Han must have changed sides otherwise his fight with Scorpion would make zero sense. Lin Kuei warriors were hired personally by Shang Tsung to kill Earthrealm Champions and the only reason for the sorcerer to allow for such a fight was if Bi-Han worked against him. 
(And if Bi-Han supported Raiden’s cause, Shang Tsung would have an actual reason to kill Cyrax after Lin Kuei warrior talked with Thunder God over Sub-Zero’s remains. As in, he was afraid another assassin could be persuaded into helping Earthrealm).
Those are two examples* in which Bi-Han prevented or tried to prevent upcoming danger - Shinnok’s return and Outworld’s Invasion (alternatively, he was trying to eliminate the danger of Quan Chi who broke contract by keeping Hanzo Hasashi / Shirai-Ryu as his Wraith, a reason on which Cyber Sektor refused to aid Netherrealm in MKX and Bi-Han’s goal just nicely worked with Raiden’s need). Sub-Zero risked his life for the safety of Earthrealm as he could died during task or be killed by Grandmaster for allying himself with Lin Kuei’s enemy (Raiden) - and Bi-Han did so even when thinking there was nothing wrong with assassining and thieving (“I was just earning my living.”)
This is not really about which brother has a better sense of honor - or duty, for that matter - as both have this sense in various source material. The difference is about the nature of their choices to protect Earthrealm.  Bi-Han’s decisions weren’t born from personal tragedy but from pragmatism as he understood that walking away from the problem wasn’t a wise choice. In contrast, Kuai Liang’s actions were a reaction to an already happened tragedy. In that sense Bi-Han, even as an assassin tainted with evil, acted to prevent bad things before those affected Earthrealm (his life/clan) while Kuai Liang tried to stop history from repeating itself.
Of course, Liu Kang as a mortal did not have any knowledge about Bi-Han's past but as his powers merged with Thunder God, he could gain an access to Raiden’s memories and opinion that affected his own judgment. Raiden praised Bi-Han at least twice for saving Earthrealm (Sub-Zero Mythologies and Mortal Kombat 9) and went so far to ask Scorpion to spare Sub-Zero’s life - granted, more to prevent creation of Noob Saibot he had vision of, but he was still angry at Scorpion in MK11 for breaking the promise
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"Your word is worthless. At the tournament I trusted you to spare Bi-Han, and you betrayed me."
Raiden specifically calling Sub-Zero by his given name makes it sound much more personal compared to an actual scene from MK9:
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"Spare Sub-Zero's life and I will request that the Elder Gods return the Shirai Ryu to the realm of mortals."
(Another thing to take into account is the age difference between Sub-Zero brothers. It is understandable that Kuai Liang looked up to Bi-Han, an older brother who was at the age of (most likely) 32 recognized as the most cunning Lin Kuei, while Bi-Han was not bound by the same idealization toward his younger sibling and maybe even felt it was his duty to take care of Kuai Liang.)
Bi-Han wasn’t the easiest person to work with, sure, but his cryomancer’s lack of social skills and abrasive nature did not get into the way of serving Earthrealm in an active way to prevent danger. Putting him as he was in different Lin Kuei - now dedicated to Earthrealm and duty bound to serve it - doesn’t sound that weird. 
But why change the element (ice) of one of the brothers at all?
Looking how crymancer Kuai Liang and MK1!Bi-Han actually shares the same independent streak and the “don’t let your loyalty stunt your growth” mindset, I think Original Younger Sub-Zero would have a much better understanding of current Bi-Han and could if not support him then at least understand his desire of breaking free from Liu Kang as alternative version of Kuai Liang in one of intro dialogues (MK11) outright would refuse aid Raiden, thinking Lin Kuei bleed enough for Earthrealm: 
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Raiden: Earthrealm needs you, Sub-Zero. Sub-Zero: Enough Lin Kuei blood has been shed. Raiden: I ask only for your bravery. 
With the implication that current sibling’s mother was a fighter and she died (possibly in line of duty) before game events and how Bi-Han seems to be on much better terms with her (or generally, being more affected by Kitana & Mileena’s mother death than death of his own father), this Kuai Liang’s statement too could easily support Bi-Han’s desire to break from tradition of servitude and Lin Kuei dying for Earthrealm’s sake. 
The older and wiser version of Kuai Liang wouldn’t agree with abandoning duty to Earthrealm, but the young, rash, blindly devoted to his older brother version? Without traumatic events - that weren’t meant to happen - there wouldn’t be the needed impulse for Kuai Liang to look at his life, Bi-Han’s ambitions and clan from a different perspective.
Bi-Han mentioned in one of character intros that Lin Kuei use cryomancy since his ancestors settled in Arctika 
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while Kuai Liang said pyromancy is closely kept family secret.
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So cryomancy is something passed down from ancestors to modern days, while either in the past people controlling fire married into family and added mastery of this element to gene pool or the Lin Kuei/Kuai Liang’s family found a different way to control it and this is why they guard their secret.  To keep it as simple as possible, let’s agree that Kuai Liang had a 50% chance to inherit ice and the same chance to get fire. On one hand, it is easy to assume, well, if fire is part of his family legacy, then he simply get different gene pool from Bi-Han, why blame Liu Kang?
In Scorpion vs Liu Kang intro, Kuai Liang learned in previous timelines he was always Sub-Zero (cryomancer)
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In Sub-Zero vs Geras intro, Bi-Han learned that Kuai Liang was not destined to be his enemy
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(once again, considering how loyal cryomancer Kuai Liang was to brother, this statement sounds like admitting this change was against the design of the previous timelines)
and Bi-Han accused Liu Kang of turning his brother against him
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but considering how little Kuai Liang interacted with Liu Kang in story mode before Bi-Han’s betrayal, this could be read as Sub-Zero learned or deduced somehow Kuai Liang’s ice powers were changed to fire abilities on Liu Kang’s decision. And from a certain perspective the accusation is true, as in both previous game timelines their brotherly conflict happened always after Bi-Han’s death and change into Noob Saibot.
So, Liu Kang’s choice to change Kuai Liang's power may be a safeguard in case Bi-Han’s corruption at some point still happened. By breaking the cryomancer bond that connected Bi-Han and Kuai Liang, he redirected Kuai Liang's constant devotion to brother into passion for tradition (father’s teaching that support Liu Kang’s case) while giving younger brother a control over element that naturally overcomes Bi-Han’s ice, as proved by previous timelines in which Scorpion’s fire kills Bi-Han.
(Personally I think the change of ice element backfired as it affected their sibling bond. An unfortunate side effect Liu Kang may not take into account. Bi-Han and Kuai Liang still consider each other as brothers and don't seem keen to allow others to get involved in their family matters as intro dialogues suggest but the way how quickly they turned against each other with intention to hurt is surprising. Yes, in previous timelines Kuai Liang and Noob fought frequently and Kuai had a lot of reasons to be angry at undead!Bi-Han but A) this was twisted by dark magic version of Bi-Han and B) Kuai Liang has never abandoned hope to save his brother as was seen in Armageddon [original timeline] and Mortal Kombat 11: Sub-Zero ending [alternate timeline]. But then again, this is a restart of their history and future additions to Mortal Kombat 1 may change that impression.)
Mind you, this is no slander against Liu Kang, as he proved to try his best at keeping realms at peace instead of ruling all realms with an iron fist, however as he himself admitted, he did interfere with some characters’ origin. Shang Tsung and Quan Chi are the best known examples as their on purpose were born to have meaningless life
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I gave the sorcerers meaningless lives... They should have never gained power, let alone joined forces.
and as intro dialogues implies, it was his decision to orphan Tomas, presumably so he could join Lin Kuei (and Kuai Liang). As Liu Kang explained: “Being Keeper of Time means making many hard choices" and so I assume there was a reason why he decided to break the otherwise strong cryomantic bond between those two brothers and why it was Kuai Liang who got fire instead of ice, even if previous timelines prove he was great ally as Sub-Zero.
*The third example comes from old MK comics, "A Cold Day in Hell" [Mortal Kombat Tournament Edition II] in which Outword and Earthrealm teams were fighting to take Shao Kahn's Medallion. The rule? Who reaches the item first, wins.
The teams were busy fighting each other and as the narrative box said "there was one warrior who understood that this was not a group exercise. Just like Mortal Kombat, here there could be only a single winner" and so "Bi-Han" went ahead alone to finish the mission. Despite being burned alive by Scorpion's fire, he reached the medallion and saved Earthrealm:
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and even Shao Kahn himself was impressed by "Bi-Han's" deeds:
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It was a brave showing, mortal. Were it within me to do so... I would wish you a season of rest for your tortured soul...
In the same comics, two months after brother's death, "Kuai Liang" was attacked by his clan and in return denouced Lin Kuei as unworthy of the continued services of Sub-Zero
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which brings me back to my point about Bi-Han's pragmatic choices to prevent danger vs Kuai Liang's decisions as a reaction to personal tragedy.
So yeah, out of my head I can name three separate examples in which Bi-Han risked his life (and in case of two events, got killed in the process) for Earthrealm's sake.
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seventeenlovesthree · 1 year ago
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Digi Dynamic Shipping Game
Send me two names among the following 12 and I’ll write a short analysis post about them:
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Taichi Yagami | Yamato Ishida | Sora Takenouchi | Koushirou Izumi | Mimi Tachikawa | Jyou Kidou | Takeru Takaishi | Hikari Yagami | Daisuke Motomiya | Miyako Inoue | Iori Hida | Ken Ichijouji | Meiko Mochizuki
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Whether canon provides input on them or not.
If you're a fan of Digimon Adventure in any capacity or at least familiar with the series - regardless of what kind of media we're talking about -, you will stumble across these two. One could say that they're the face of the franchise, the bread and butter of various chunks of the plot, the center of merchandise - and they have been a juggernaut in the fandom since the very beginning, probably only rivaled (or complemented) by the likes of Takari and Koumi (and maybe Daiken, depending on what corners you look at). Whether you're "oldschool" like me and call them "Taito" (or "Yamachi") or part of the more modern fandom, you may prefer to call them Taiyama/Yamatai - you know them. And why wouldn't you with that HUGE focus on their framing?!
Taichi and Yamato are being paralleled and contrasted against each other throughout the course of the entire series: They're the protagonist and his (temporary) rival, different yet similar in various aspects, which causes them to continuously clash with each other. Starting off as the stereotypes of "brash and hotheaded" vs. "reasonably cool", there is an ongoing theme of miscommunication between them throughout the years - and even though their Digimon are usually the first to evolve to every single next stage, it's their conflicts with each other (and reconciliations) that challenge each other's Crest meanings the most. Yamato starts off perceiving Taichi as "too reckless and inconsiderate", challenging Taichi's sense of courage and responsibility, whereas Taichi tries to calm Yamato's aggressiveness down, making Yamato question his sense of friendship towards him and the group... They take their time to realize that they have much more in common than they initially thought - and that there are actually a lot of things they admire about the other, things they themselves lack. For example, they're both big brothers of younger siblings, both overprotective for very different reasons - but Yamato feeling incapable of being a good brother to Takeru like Taichi acts towards him at first is one of the reasons why Cherrymon is able to corrupt him temporarily, making him perceive Taichi as someone he needs to challenge and overcome.
But in the end, it's their bond to each other, their trust in the other that usually leads to victory; whether they let their siblings shoot arrows of love at them while they're holding hands to achieve the highest evolution level; whether they wait for the other to join a painful fight, because they know they can rely on each other; whether they get sucked through a computer to reach their partners simultaneously in the net to create the most iconic fusion in the entirety of Digimon; whether they gleefully bicker about how silly some of their fights were in the past, punching each other out of love and nostalgia; whether they start to question their own belief systems as they grow older, partly unable to communicate how much they believe in each other, so there is a lot of brooding and unspoken expectations, frustration and fondness between them; whether they mope about adulthood while being out for dinner and beer... It's the fact that, whenever they come together, putting their arguments aside to fight side by side, they're usually the reason why darkness won't succeed.
Long story short; they may have a contrasting/complementary theme going on most of the time - orange vs. blue, fire vs. ice -, but they do have a lot in common and develop a very close bond that lasts beyond adulthood. There may also be miscommunication between them here and there, but they trust and rely on each other greatly, they want to push each other to be better, a sense of "roughness yet softness" that shall never be underestimated.
Whether I think why and how they’d work.
As much as I can see the potential in everything I have pointed out above, I - personally - have always had a very hard time perceiving them through a romantic lense. Don't get me wrong, I absolutely see and understand the appeal, the trope this kind of ship is based on, the "constantly clashing off of each other, while being also completely ride or die for the other when the situation requires it". And whenever they are on good terms with each other, they are unstoppable - like I said, there is a sense of fondness and softness between them that is very intriguing. My biggest problem with that is that they keep falling back into old habits of miscommunication and that doesn't feel sustainable to me. Whenever you feel like they FINALLY got it, finally got over their differences and accept the other for who they are - there is another conflict (usually, but not exclusively, initiated by Yamato). Again, they're both not very good at using words towards each other (unless the situation is REALLY drastic), so either the harmonica has to do, or their fists...
For example, I like to point out how 02 already felt like some kind of logical honeymoon phase for them to me - and Kizuna kind of tried to pick that up again by showing that they were perfectly compatible going out for dinner without any serious disagreement between them. (Heck, even the Taiorato situation had NEVER been a "conflict" BETWEEN them, they had always been nothing but supportive of each other.)
But Tri was so heavy on making these two fail to communicate (for the sake of having a plot in the first place), that I am just asking myself how they would ever really be able to help each other grow OUTSIDE of world-saving contexts. They both suffer when they're at odds with each other, they don't enjoy it - Taichi always looks like a wounded puppy when Yamato gives him the cold shoulder and Yamato is so stuck in his Tsundere state, while being so unsure of himself, that he tends to be more verbally hurtful than he initially intended. He knows he "expects too much" of Taichi, he knows exactly why Taichi hesitates and has so many doubts - I'm pretty sure Yamato used to have the same doubts previously, I mean, he has punched them out of him before -, but he doesn't have the means to tell him.
My personal impression of Tri!Yamato is that he is so deep in the closet, that his love for Taichi (platonic, romantic, you name it!!!) could just burst out of him any minute now, but he absolutely doesn't know how to deal with that. So part of him rejects it - sometimes it bursts out of him violently, sometimes softly. He even offers Taichi that they may stop using Omegamon, because that would be "easier" for him - which sounds like the biggest "I know I can never have you and you probably don't want me anyway, and that's okay with me, I promise..." in the history of everything ever. And Taichi probably is subconsciously aware of that (somehow, even if he may not be able to fully process it), but isn't really able to act towards that either. (Heck, again, even Sora is aware of Yamato's feelings, but they all don't have the means to say it out loud! Hikari, Koushirou and Jyou hint at it at various points in Tri and the stageplay too, but it is never explicitly said...)
So in a sense, they feel like they're star-crossed lovers who aren't meant to be due to how they never find a way to actually cross the line. Like I said, Kizuna tries to show them being compatible - and it is true, they are close, but you get a feeling that there is always THAT ONE thing they cannot say. Taichi tries - but gets interrupted by SOMETHING or simply shies back. Yamato wants to - but gets unintentionally loud again and then the moment is over. They're both depressed to some degree by the time of Kizuna and both use the "Digimon duty" as escapism, as well as the moping-meet-ups to at least get out some steam. However, they are not able to pull each other out of that slump, they can't save each other unless they have to save the world as "Omegamon's enablers", because they're in too deep already...
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Maybe in a Post-Beginning scenario where things are not at stake anymore, where they're reunited with their partners and back on track with their life paths, they could get another chance. Going on adventurous trips, playfully bickering again while everyone else shakes their heads at them like "Look at that old married couple again...", having fun, enjoying life. But if they just stay by themselves like that, kinda disconnected from the group and their true selves, it would feel more like "dysfunctional wound-licking" to me, with way too much pent-up frustration. And that is sad when you see all that love and ALL THAT potential...
Whether I’d prefer them as platonic or romantic ship.
I feel like I could have gone on about how they may play out, but in the end, while I can see all the potential outlined, I do prefer them to be platonic. It does feel like a tragic love story - and even if it kinda sounded like it, it isn't one-sided on Yamato's behalf either, there are mutual feelings involved, they just really have a tough time getting over their barriers and that's why I personally can't see them solving problems if they were in a long-term relationship. As mutually supportive friends who tend to have small arguments but reconcile eventually, always having each other's backs? HECK YEAH! I love the Yamataishirou friend group as well the, unfortunately, never fully explored Yamataikoura friend group and I love scenarios in which they tease each other about their crushes to others, but tl;dr: I prefer them to be platonic!
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