#he could be looking at the you know what... but then again it doesn't seem that way

[nsharks]

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part twenty-four —other parts

pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader words: 3k tags: death. blood. cannibalism mention. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn’t here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival. a/n: ily

England passes in beautiful shades of green, the last time you'll see it, so you soak it in. Rolling hills streak the landscape like scars. In the distance, you glimpse faded architecture, imagining people living and working there. An ivy-covered university appears, and you picture yourself dozing off in a lecture. These little fantasies entertain you for the next two hours, but Blue isn't distracted by the same game. When you look at her arm, you notice pink scratches just below where the friendship bracelet hugs her wrist, made by her nails mindlessly.

You tear your eyes from the window and nudge your shoulder against hers. "Hey. What do you call a cow with no legs?"

Her lips twitch at the broken silence and she lifts her azure eyes to yours, a bead of sunlight catching in them. "What?"

"Ground beef."

Those eyes roll. "That's stupid."

Nereida smiles from the other side of her. "Oh, I've got one. What did the ocean say to the beach?"

Blue sighs. "Ghost said that one before. Nothing—it just 'waved'."

A recoil passes over Nereid's kind eyes. "I apologize. That's the only one I know."

Quiet air fills the space again, and when you notice Blue's nails dig back into her wrist, you gently lace your fingers through hers and pull her hand to your lap, allowing her to scratch your thigh, instead. 

When an old theme park erects from the grass, Blue's interest piques. "Woah. What is that?"

"None of it works anymore," Ghost mutters, one hand on the wheel.

"It looks cool, though. I have to pee, anyway. Can we stop here?"

"I could use a little stretch for my legs," Nereida adds.

The pitstop is brief enough to allow Blue the chance to curiously look through the decrepit bumper cars, carousel, and even a small rollercoaster that still has the car sitting mid-track. She grabs Ari's hand to show him, but he doesn't seem as intrigued given the pale look on his face. He ends up rushing to a bush and keeling over.

"The back gets a bit bumpy," Kyle says when he notices your expression. "He'll be fine."

"I'll switch with him for the rest of the way."

"You don't have to."

"It's fine. He can probably entertain Blue better than I can."

Everyone uses the small break to eat a little lunch. You already had some of the beans Ghost packed, so you feel uncertain whether you should eat anymore of his food. You haven't even discussed sharing. Rather, you ration the jerky you made and save the rest. 

It is a small meal, so you eat it slowly to trick your stomach into feeling full. Just before getting back to the truck, you spot a tree by the entrance to Kettering Kastle. Hickory. Paul told you once they make for great arrows, a softer hardwood. Pliable yet strong. This excites you. Your sheath is only half-full, so you grab your serrated knife and cut a few midsized branches to take with you.

Sitting in the truck bed is far from pleasant. The tail wind makes it hard to breathe, and you have to grab the side of the truck to keep yourself from flying out. Kyle notices your struggle and seems amused, but reaches an arm over in offering. You hold onto him and it does some to keep you stable. 

The motorway passes through Kettering, which is a smaller city. The smell is retched, though the only Greys you spot don't take notice to you, trapped between buildings and toppled telephone poles. You make out a sign that reads A14 and figure it is headed to Cambridge. If you continue this pace, you'll reach the coastline by sundown.

Of course, things don't work out that way. The road becomes more obstructed with abandoned vehicles. Ghost has to weave through them like a maze, wasting time and fuel. The sun crawls higher in the sky. Finally, there are a few kilometers of straight road. Speed ticks up only to come to an abrupt halt when he reaches an underpass. You let go of Kyle and stand up to see what has caused the stop—a semi truck completely blocks the way through it.

"Jesus," you mutter.

Consecutive slams of the fronts doors indicate Price and Ghost are checking it out. Kyle hops out with them. After a few minutes, he returns and explains with a sigh, "We'll have to backtrack and find a side street that will lead to another motorway ramp."

"That's going to eat time. The sun will set soon."

He offers his arm again as Ghost begins reversing. "I know. It's fine, we'll just get to the water tomorrow. No rush, yeah?"

It adds an extra hour and a half. The sky turns a remarkable orange that would've had you gawking if not for your irritation of having to stop again. Ghost pulls over just before it gets too dark to set up the tents in a small market town called Haverhill. There's hardly anything here except fields of bright, yellow flowers and little shops with slanted CLOSED signs. It is actually pleasant and well-preserved, until you catch the distinguishable shape of a corpse hanging from one of the telephone poles, a black trash bag over its head.

"Don't look at it."

"Nothing I haven't seen before," you dismiss under your breath. 

A more forested patch of land at the edge of the town is where you make camp for the night.

They eat canned goods and you finish your last pieces of jerky. This means you'll have to find more food for yourself tomorrow, or ask Ghost for some. The thought makes you anxious. The last thing you want is to seem like an extra burden. Dead weight that they'd be better off leaving behind. But he also didn't comment when you ate the beans. The uncertainty of where you stand means you need to make yourself useful.

The men need rest, so you offer to keep watch.

Prices dismisses you. "You don't have to, Twix. The three of us can take turns."

"No, really. I'll keep watch and you guys can all get more sleep. I've just been sitting in a car all day, anyway."

He gives in, visibly fatigued after being up over twenty-four hours.

Ghost and Price sleep first.

That leaves you sitting with Kyle when the stars begin to flicker like bright, little heartbeats against the black night.

You pull out your smoother knife—the one you found back at that base—to carve the sticks you found, careful of your bandaged thumb. 

Kyle lays his rifle across his lap. "First time I am seeing you smile today and it's while carving sticks." 

"Arrows," you correct, holding one up and tapping your index lightly against the sharpened point. "And it's good wood. Hickory."

"You're an easy woman to please," he teases.

"My tastes have changed over the years."

"Really? I can't imagine you as one of those people who cared too much about nice things."

You flash him a raised brow. "Are you saying I was cheap?"

He nudges your knee. "Not what I'm saying. You just seem like someone who would prefer a little movie date over a fancy dinner."

"I liked sushi. Is that fancy?"

He hums. "There were some good cheap sushi spots in London—hole in the wall type places. When there was some kid doing their homework at one of the booths, that's when you knew it'd be good shit."

"You're making me hungry."

"Well, you should've eaten more." He looks at you knowingly. "You're scared to ask anyone for food, aren't you?"

Are you really that easy to read? You place the half-finish arrow across your knees and look at the ground, brushing your fingers absentmindedly through the soft grass. "I just—I am aware of my place here."

"Your place?"

Your hands tightens the grass into a fistful. "I am at the bottom."

"The bottom," he repeats slowly, and his voice lowers. "You really think that?"

You rip the grass and sprinkle it over your boot, glancing up at him. His eyes have darkened, or maybe they are simply mirroring the sky. "I am not complaining. I understand that everyone here has others who they would prefer to keep alive over me, that's all. I just don't want to stick out anymore than I already do."

He reels in your words. "You're forgetting that everyone here has their own perspective, their own wants. It is not as simple as you're making it seem." In a change of topic, he reaches for the arrow on your lap. "Here—let me help."

You hand him the knife and he begins carving expertly as a few minutes of silence ensue. You are lost in your thoughts, keeping your eyes on the surroundings, when he suddenly stops in his handiwork, holding up the knife. You watch him study the leather handle carefully, shake his head to himself, then look at you.

"Where did you get this?"

"Huh? Oh—I found it. At a military base actually."

Your answer seems to strike him, and he releases a disbelieving exhale. "The one near Manchester?"

You nod. 

"It was my brother's."

What?

Reading your expression, he shows you the handle and rubs his thumb over a small etching at the bottom that you can barely make out in the moonlight: PG.

"Patrick Garrick," he explains in a murmur, and your chest tightens. "I didn't even notice it at first. It's been years since I had it. The last time...the last time was when shit happened, and I lent it to a friend of mine at the base."

"Who?"

"Soap," he says, a memory taking over his expression as he rubs his jaw. "He was the other member of our spec ops unit."

"You... Someone mentioned him before. Ghost—he asked you guys about him when you arrived. You don't know what happened to him, right?"

Kyles nods. "He stayed back at the base to keep helping even when Price and I jumped ship. That was the Scottish in him—stubborn as hell. Soap was just his codename, of course. Like mine was Gaz." He looks up at you with a faint dimple. "And yours is Twix, huh?"

"I guess." You press your tongue to your teeth and grab the knife, frowning at it as you try to recall exactly where you grabbed it from. "What was his real name, then?"

"John MacTavish."

"I think—I think your friend is dead. I'm sorry." You gaze at him. "I remember now. I found it in one of the rooms, and there was a skeleton with that name. He... he had it quick, though."

The expression on his typically warm eyes turns unreadable and his shoulders stiffen in the slightest. You wonder if you should have bothered sharing this, but then he shrugs it off with a sigh. "It's okay. Figured as much. Many people have died. He's just another name to the list."

Instinct draws your hand to his shoulder, and the muscles softens beneath your touch. "I'm still sorry."

His eyes find yours. 

He smiles solemnly.

Then, somewhere in it all, he leans over and closes the gap. The sudden, foreign feel of lips pressed against your own stuns you. His lips move gently, cold and soft against yours, and only when he threads a hand through your hair to pull you closer do you fully register what he is doing. Your eyes fly open and you break away, leaping to your feet.

"Why did you—what was that?"

He stands up with you. "It felt right in the moment."

He tries to touch your shoulder but you flinch away. "I'm sorry. I just—I was just trying to comfort you."

"I misread the moment." His eyes are clouded. "So you didn't want it?"

Did you? Your mind feels fuzzy. "I don't know. I need to...I want to be alone right now."

You grab your knife and sticks, rushing around the tents to find solace by the truck, needing to process what just happened. As you move, you bump into a hard chest—Ghost. Somehow you failed to hear the jagged teeth of the tent's zipper. Avoiding his gaze, you try to slip past, but he grips your elbow, holding you in place.

"What is it?"

The lie wedges out of your lips. "Nothing. I just—thought I saw something so I am going to sit over there and keep an eye out."

The difference in height leads to his stare burning into your scalp. "What did you see?" 

"I don't know. Something. Maybe just an animal."

His hold doesn't soften. Stoicism forces itself on your face as you press your lips into a line.

You're easy to ready.

He finally lets go. "I'll take over now. You can sleep."

You find yourself nodding soundlessly, internally glad to be relieved of this duty. 

Sleep offers peace of mind, at least until morning. 

Dawn breaks over the small town in a quiet clatter of spoons against cans and the shuffling of bags being packed up. The dream you wake up from was one of an old life—the last kiss you experienced. But it fizzles quickly from the recesses of your brain the moment your lids shutter open. 

Both you and Kyle seem keen on acting as though nothing happened. More than anything, you are confused. You try to search inside that box of yours for how you feel, but all you find is fear. You've barely been able to keep up with the fear. You busy yourself with helping get everything back in the truck, fitting the supplies like a jigsaw puzzle. You have nothing to eat. A day or two without food is doable until you can properly hunt for something—

"Here."

It is Nereida who catches you by the truck before leaving. She practically shoves a can of tuna into your hands and you look up at her in hesitant gratitude.

"We're all sharing food," she says. "That is how it should be."

"Thank you. Really, this is—"

"Don't thank me. There is plenty for everyone."

For now, your mind chides, but you swallow the thought while scarfing down the meal you pretend is London's finest sushi. 

Once everyone is ready, you head to the back of the truck, expecting an awkward encounter with Kyle, only to find Ghost sitting there beside the kayak, hands relaxed behind his head.

"What are you doing?"

"Needed a break from driving."

You glance at the front to see that Price is behind the wheel, and Kyle is in the passenger side. In a way, you're relieved. You breathe through your nose and hoist yourself up. The bumpy ride is quiet at first. His body takes up space so that each pothole nudges your shoulder or knee against his. The morning ages. You swear you can see there coast at one point, but it must be your imagination, because the passing sign reads Halstead. 

"You really need to work on lying better."

The brash accent registers low against the hum of the engine, and his eyes are closed when you look over. He is leaned back, one leg straight and one bent, seeming to enjoy the seat more than you are. 

"Fine. I'm bad at lying."

"Care to share the truth, then?"

He needn't elaborate for you to know what he is referring to. "I was...I was upset because I found out my knife—the one I took from the base—belonged to Kyle's brother."

His brow ticks.

You continue, "But he actually gave it to Soap, and I—I found his dog tag on a skeleton. John MacTavish. You were friends with him, weren't you?"

His eyes open, but they are too murky to decipher from just his profile. His jaw flexes. "I wasn't a man with friends, Twix."

"You know what I mean."

There is a pause, and then, "He was a sergeant under my command. A good man. Grating, at times. But good."

"Well, I'm sorry he didn't make it. If you of all people say he was a good guy, then he really must've been."

He hums in agreement. Thoughtful. Then—two gloved fingers touch your jaw, turning your eyes to his. "You are still lying, and still bad at it."

You wet your lips. "I wasn't—"

"Help!"

Ghost drops your chin and grabs the gun from his waist.

Your eyes flash around at the sound of a second plea. There is a man at the side of the road, leg draped in bloodied bandages, but there isn't a chance for you to register more of him when the truck takes a sudden, sharp left down a side street and you brace yourself by grabbing the edge with both arms. The small city-scape whirls by in a blur. Ghost swears under his breath, scanning the area as he bends on one knee and keeps the gun secure in his grip. Confused, you grab his arm.

"That man was injured."

His voice is harsh and alert. "He has fucking friends somewhere here. He was just trying to—"

A shattering sound. An audible pop. You're thrown against the truck bed even harder this time as it skids across the street, nearly slamming into a flipped-over car. Ghost covers you, the weight of him keeping you from flying out. The truck swerves to a halt. Everything is black until his weight lifts. He barks an order, jumps out, and pulls you with him.

Pressed against the side of the truck, the world becomes consumed by loud sounds and the distinct smell of gunpowder. Ghost rips open the passenger door and urgently pulls Blue, Ari, and Nereida out, ordering them to keep low. From the other side, you hear Price and Kyle shouting, followed by another series of gunshots.

[fushitoru]

i don't wanna lose this with you a spiderman gojo fic

pairing ⸺ spiderman!gojo x reader

summary ⸺ an amalgation of misunderstandings and stress lead to a very big fight between you and satoru, but you certainly don't expect the way he wins you back.

warnings ⸺ college au, spiderman!au, angst, hurt/comfort, i warn you reader might infurate you, but she's just a woman in stem :(, tooth rotting fluff bc he's a loser for his gf, not edited sue me

playlist ⸺ quantum rizzics

a/n you'll probably need to read the first installation (nsfw, so mdni) to understand this one :3

general masterlist | spiderman!gojo m. list

you've blocked gojo on all platforms.

you don't really remember what caused the "break up" (you didn't really break up). maybe it's the fact that you've been stressed about grad school admissions, your dorm's floor was covered in his boxers, and he's never been able to visit you pre-3am these days. somehow, the city's criminals are determined to keep your boyfriend away from you, and maybe it was your pms, or maybe it was truly just because satoru is annoying. regardless, it's when you guys have plans that's not an impromptu healing-gojo's-wounds-in-your-dorm-at-3am sesh and you're waiting at the coffee shop that you explode.

because he was supposed to arrive ten minutes ago, and when you move to go to the bathroom, you see him. through the window, his white hair is never not noticeable, and who you see next to him makes you falter.

he's standing next to a girl with blue tinted silver hair that you recognize as mei mei, and she's gripping his upper arm as she smiles while looking at his face, his lips with such fuck me eyes that you could tell they were having some sort of intimate conversation.

and if it were an ideal day, you would know that it's all a misunderstanding, you would know your boyfriend is someone you trust. but, again, the cards were stacked against you, and the only things that go through your mind all make your eyes all glossy. he's late to the one date that you planned because you and him were finally free at the same time and you've been busy because you've been desperately applying for internships because unlike your boyfriend you don't have a plethora of papers and coding experience and you've been getting four hours of sleep on average this week and ugh you've heard a rumor that satoru used to hook up with her and fuck now your tampon is poking at you in the wrong way—

great. now tears are fully streaming down your cheeks. in public.

as you rush to the table where your stuff is your vision is so blurry that you also almost fall flat on your face as you stumble over the legs of chairs and tables. blurting out a ensemble of choked up sorry's and excuse me's you hurriedly gather your laptop and notebooks in your backpack and book it for the exit.

the biting cold stings at your face, but you nevertheless determinedly move in the opposite direction of where satoru and mei mei are situated, praying your boyfriend doesn't recognize you. however, it seems that the heavens are working against you because you hear a yelled "baby?"

you don't look back because you know a new set of tears will leave your eyes, and with it being finals season, you're not very hydrated to being with. but you hear footsteps running towards you and fuck your boyfriend's long ass legs because he quickly catches up to you. then, he grabs your hands, attempting to stop you from running away and face him.

"baby," he breathes, baby blue eyes looking into yours as he moves to kiss your forehead. you stay silent, pinning your gaze to the ground while shivering. "where are you going? aren't we supposed to hang out right now?"

look, you and gojo have a good relationship. but recently, things have gotten...strenuous lately. you guys haven't been communicating, and it might not help that half of your calorie intake was from energy drinks. or perhaps what lead you to say what you said next was driven entirely by the brain eating mold on your unwashed dishes, but dumb excuses aside, you sneer. "shouldn't you be busy doing that with mei mei, instead?"

a small part of you--the part that knows you shouldn't be like this--feels relief that hurt doesn't immediately flash across his eyes, only confusion. but lack of sleep has not only stripped away at your sanity but also your people pleasing and overthinking tendencies, leaving you only as a girl frustrated, even irrationally angry, with her boyfriend. so you only avert your gaze when he dumbfoundedly asks, "what?"

"what do you mean, "what?"" you scoff, wrenching your hand from his grasp. "you were ten minutes late to our meet-up, gojo." it is at your use of his last name, instead of your sweet my love, that the hurt you've been looking for flashes across his eyes. he moves to speak but you cut him off, no longer wishing to be here with him. "if you're so busy talking to bitches you hooked up with before, why did you even bother saying yes to hanging out with me?"

he looks at you in confusion, eyes quickly flitting back and forth across you. then, slowly, as if he's still processing the weight of your accusations, he says, "i don't exactly know what you're referring to, but let's calm down---"

and you see red.

"calm down?" you snap, voice sharp and icy, just like the wind stinging your cheeks. "did you seriously just tell me to calm down? you were late again, gojo, and i find you chatting it up with her?" you practically spit the word, arms crossing as a flimsy defense against both the cold and the ache building in your chest.

satoru blinks, his confusion genuine, but you’re too far gone to care. "wait—mei mei? is this about mei mei? she's not—"

"don’t you dare finish that sentence," you cut him off, your voice rising as your blood boils hotter. "i don't want to hear how she's just a friend, or how it's not what it looks like. i’m so tired of hearing the same bullshit excuses."

"baby, you're jumping to conclusions—"

"and you’re jumping at the chance to look like an idiot in public," you snap, your hands trembling now, either from the cold or your rising fury. "god, what do you even say to her? let me guess, you go around telling girls you're spider-man to get into their pants, huh? bet that works like a charm."

the accusation hits like a slap, and for the first time, satoru looks genuinely stunned, his mouth falling open slightly. "what the hell are you even saying right now?"

"am i wrong?" you let out a bitter laugh, one that echoes in the frosty air. "you’re late to the one date i actually planned, and i see you with her, all cozy, like i’m not even waiting for you. like i don’t even matter."

his eyebrows knit together, frustration mixing with something softer. "you seriously think i’d—"

"i don’t know what to think anymore, satoru!" the words burst out of you, your voice cracking as hot tears well in your eyes. "all i know is that i can’t keep feeling like this. like i’m some afterthought while you’re out doing—whatever it is you do. swinging through the city or flirting with your exes or—" you choke on the words, wiping at your cheeks furiously as the tears spill over. "just forget it. i’m done."

"wait." his voice is quieter now, more desperate as he steps toward you, his hand reaching out. "baby, come on, we can talk about this—"

"no," you say firmly, jerking your hand away before he can grab it. "i’m blocking you. on everything." then, mockingly, "you can figure out how to save the world without me."

his eyes widen, his mouth opening like he’s about to plead or argue, but you don’t wait for him to speak. you turn on your heel and storm away, the cold wind biting at your skin as the lump in your throat grows heavier.

you don’t look back. not when he calls your name, not when you hear his footsteps falter. you just keep walking.

it’s 3 a.m., and you don’t know if you exist.

well, you do, but after how light you feel after you’ve cried a disgusting amount, you just lie down on your floor staring at the ceiling and contemplating the meaning of life. or more specifically, the meaning of your life, which right now feels like it’s revolving around nothing but stress and a breakup you don’t even fully understand.

you wouldn’t be having these problems if you were a childless cat lady.

but alas, you’re just a college student. in the few days where you haven’t seen satoru, you’ve finished all your finals—miraculously, considering the fragile state of your emotional wellbeing—and now you’re finally on break in your dorm. you’re supposed to go back home in two days, but the thought of packing feels like trying to climb a mountain barefoot. you can’t summon the energy to do anything except wallow in your self-pity and selfishness, letting it wrap around you like a weighted blanket that’s somehow comforting and suffocating all at once.

you’d like to say this is rock bottom, but truthfully, it’s worse than that. because rock bottom implies a kind of finality—a place to push off from. this? this feels more like you’re sinking in quicksand, the weight of everything dragging you further down.

in your stress and impulsiveness, you’ve managed to kill your entire grind for internships. deadlines have slipped past while you spent hours doom-scrolling job boards and second-guessing every application. the ambitious, career-focused version of yourself feels like a stranger now, buried under the weight of your own doubts and insecurities. and on top of that, you may have potentially lost the love of your life.

it’s laughable, really, how thoroughly you’ve managed to self-destruct in such a short time. the worst part? you can’t even bring yourself to check your socials. if you unblock him and see there aren’t any messages, you think your heart might shatter completely. which, if you’re being honest, isn’t exactly fair to him. you’re the one who had the meltdown. you’re the one who blocked him on everything. he probably doesn’t even know what he did wrong because you didn’t even communicate anything.

your stomach twists at the thought, guilt mingling with the ever-present ache of missing him. he was supposed to be the one person who made everything feel a little less impossible, and now you’ve pushed him away.

there has got to be a taylor swift song for this.

so you make your way to your spotify account to listen to afterglow, putting in your airpods while somberly looking at the ceiling once again as the lyrics fill your ears. tears well up as soon as the lyrics start

i blew things out of proportion, now you're blue⸻

tears well up before you can stop them, hot and heavy as they trail down your cheeks. god, you’re a mess. and yet, as much as you hate it, you can’t seem to stop the flood of thoughts that follow.

you miss him. you miss the way he made you laugh even when you were on the verge of tears, the way his ridiculous confidence somehow made you feel like everything would work out. you miss how he’d stay up late just to facetime you when you were overwhelmed with schoolwork, how he always seemed to know exactly when you needed him most.

and now? now you’ve gone and ruined it. maybe he’s angry, maybe he’s hurt, or worse—maybe he’s just done with you entirely.

the thought makes your chest ache, your breaths coming in shallow and uneven as the lyrics hit their crescendo.

i need to say, hey, it’s all me, in my head—

then, suddenly the song changes. you frown as you hear early 2010's pop blast through your ears.

i threw a wish in the well, don't ask me i'll never tell⸻

why the fuck is call me maybe playing?

annoyed and rubbing at your eyes, you move the change it back to, now, the sad girl hours playlist spotify curated for your and assume your dead fish position on the floor once again.

however, it seems as if your spotify is genuinely tweaking, like it's realized it’s gotten your attention. when call me maybe starts playing again, you groan out loud and move your phone. but before you have a chance to switch the song again, it seems to switch.

baby by justin bieber.

call me, blondie.

i love you, i'm sorry, gracie abrams.

letstalkaboutit, aminé.

i don't understand but i luv you, seventeen.

please please please, sabrina carpenter.

and then, once more, as if to really drive the point home: call me maybe, carly rae jepsen.

again, it's 3am, and you're stuck in a surreal mix of grief and confusion, staring at your phone as your spotify queue seems to have gained sentience. each song feels like a pleading nudge, an unmistakable pattern forming, and your blood runs cold when you remember one very important fact.

you share a spotify account with satoru.

"carly rae jepsen," you mutter under your breath, a mix of exasperation and fondness bubbling up despite yourself. he's hijacking your queue. right in the middle of your emo songs.

you sit up abruptly, tossing your airpods onto the bed, and hover over the call button on your phone. there’s a split second of hesitation—your pride battling with your longing—before you give in and press it.

the line rings twice before his voice comes through, breathless, like he’s been pacing. "baby?"

the sound of his voice sends a fresh wave of emotion crashing over you, sharp and raw like an open wound. the sound of his voice makes your stomach twist uncomfortably, equal parts relief and guilt. "satoru," you say, barely above a whisper. "why are you messing with our spotify?"

"why am i messing with our spotify?" he echoes, his tone incredulous. "why did you block me on literally everything? what was i supposed to do—send you a letter by carrier pigeon?"

you wince at the edge in his voice, your earlier anger wilting under the weight of his hurt. "i… i don’t know," you admit, the words tumbling out before you can catch them. "i was upset, and i wasn’t thinking straight. i shouldn’t have done that."

"yeah, you shouldn’t have," he says, still sounding a little indignant, though there’s something softer beneath it now. "do you know how many songs i had to go through to make my point? do you know how hard it was to resist the urge to rickroll you instead?" then, there’s a pause on his end, the line suddenly feeling too quiet. then he sighs, his voice softening into something that feels too much like an apology. "i didn’t know what else to do. i hate not talking to you. i hate knowing i made you upset, even if i don’t entirely understand why."

you close your eyes, the lump in your throat returning with a vengeance. the silence stretches between you, thick and unbearable, until you finally break it. "i’m sorry," you whisper, the words slipping out before you can stop them. "i shouldn’t have blown up at you like that.” and now that the dam has been broken, it all comes rushing out as you start choking up. “i’ve just been so stressed, and i’ve been missing you and then i saw you with her and then got irrationally angry when i really should’ve trusted you and oh my god i’m like a possessive tradwife husband that doesn’t let you leave the farm i’m sorry and i didn’t even communicate before i blew up at you like that—”

"hey. hey, hey, it’s okay," he says immediately, his tone filled with an earnestness that makes your chest tighten. "i know things have been hard for you. i should’ve been better, too. more present. i hate that you’ve been feeling like this while i’ve been...doing spider-man things." then, he lets out a dramatic sigh, the kind that’s equal parts exasperation and playfulness. "but wasn’t fair,” and you can hear a whine in his voice, “you blocked me and then ghosted me like i’m some kind of random tinder match. do you have any idea how insane i felt when i couldn’t even check to see if you were okay? i thought you hated me."

your breath catches at his words, guilt twisting like a knife in your chest. "i don’t hate you," you say quickly, the words spilling out in a rush. "i could never hate you. i was just… stupid, and emotional, and i didn’t know how to handle everything piling up. i’m so, so sorry, satoru."

there’s a pause, and when he speaks again, his voice is quieter, a little more vulnerable. "then why did you say those things? about mei mei, and… and me using the spider-man thing to get into girls’ pants."

you bite your lip, the memory of your harsh words making your throat tighten. "i didn’t mean any of it," you whisper. "i was just lashing out, and i know it wasn’t fair to you. i know you’d never do something like that, and i trust you, satoru. i just… i let my insecurities get the better of me."

"wait," he interrupts, his voice laced with amusement that shouldn’t make your heart ache the way it does. "you actually think i’d use the spider-man thing as a pickup line? that’s...wow. that’s genius. i should write that down."

"satoru!" you exclaim, half-laughing, half-crying, your emotions unraveling all over again. "i’m being serious!"

"i know, i know," he says, but you can hear the smile in his voice, warm and teasing. "and i’m being serious, too. i’d never do that to you. mei mei’s just...she tripped in front of me, i was just helping her up. i didn’t even realize how it must’ve looked, but i’ve never done anything with her. you’re it for me, okay? always."

you sniffle, wiping at your cheeks as your heart swells and aches all at once. "you mean that?"

"of course i do," he says, his voice soft and sincere in a way that makes your breath hitch. "i love you, even when you block me on everything and make me resort to spotify warfare." he sighs again, but this time it’s softer, the warmth in his voice breaking through his remaining irritation. "i’m not mad. i mean, i was mad, but mostly i was just upset. you really hurt my feelings, you know?"

the lump in your throat grows, your guilt threatening to choke you. "i know," you say, your voice cracking. "i’m so sorry, satoru. i’ll make it up to you, i promise."

"oh, you will make it up to me," he says, the teasing edge returning to his tone. "i want a week of boyfriend privileges—no complaining when i steal your fries, no making fun of my movie picks, and you’re buying me snacks for at least three of those days."

a small smile tugs at your lips despite the tears still clinging to your lashes. "deal," you say softly.

there’s a pause on his end, and then his voice comes through the line, quieter but no less sincere. "you really mean it? you’re not still mad at me?"

"i’m not mad," you say, your voice thick with emotion. "i was never really mad at you, satoru. i was mad at everything else, and i took it out on you. but i’m not mad anymore. i just… i miss you."

"i miss you too," he says, and the raw honesty in his voice---the subtle way it chokes up, as if he had been crying and missing you too---makes your chest ache. "so, can i come over? or are you going to make me keep hijacking your playlists to get your attention?"

you laugh softly, the sound tinged with relief. "just come over already, you dummy. and bring snacks. good ones."

"done," he says, his grin audible through the phone. "i’ll be there in twenty. and for the record, you owe me at least a whole playlist dedicated to how amazing i am and you sucking the absolute soul out of my dick---."

"don’t push your luck," you reply, but there’s no heat in your words, only warmth (and you’re absolutely going to suck his soul out of his cock). regardless, for the first time in days, the tightness in your chest starts to ease, replaced by something lighter, something whole.

general masterlist | spiderman!gojo m. list

a/n he's so cute :( i'll keep on writing stuff for them whether it be small fics like this or long ass fics. i think my next one is gonna be freaky if you guys are nice to this one

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[snoopyracing]

grapes and good fortune // ln4

pairing: lando norris X reader

word count: 4.7k

warnings: cursing and alcohol use

includes: friends to lovers, mutual pining, and fluff

summary: when your plan to find love on new year's eve doesn't work a certain someone may just fix those plans.

a/n: surprise! here's a cute little lando nye fic for you! it was so fun to write and i hope you all enjoy :)

masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

It’s not the end of the world to be single. You’ve gone your whole life technically being single– each guy you’ve had a thing with never resulted in a full fledged relationship. It never really seemed to bother you that much, you’d learned to be more independent and learned that your time is in fact more valuable than men think. Though, as the years passed and your friends started to get into serious relationships you couldn’t help but feel a little left behind.

You knew everyone’s time would come and seriously you were in your early to mid twenties – you still had a whole lifetime ahead of you. But the third wheeling you seemed to be a professional at by now was starting to get embarrassing. Also, holidays just really seemed to suck while being single. You knew there was more to life than being in a relationship, but god dammit you’re a human. You crave love and affection and no matter how independent you are– you still want to love and be loved. 

Your friend group had unsuccessfully tried setting you up with more guys than you could count. Each one you really did try and give a chance, but there was nothing there. You didn’t think you had high standards by any means, but if you didn’t feel anything with these guys then why waste your time? 

“You went on how many dates this month and none of them piqued your interest?” Your friend grills you as the two of you are sitting on the balcony of your apartment. You’d come back from another unsuccessful date and decided to drown your sorrows with a bottle of wine and a yapping session. 

“Genuinely think there might be something wrong with me at this point.” You complain as you sip the sweet wine in your glass. 

“There isn’t anything wrong with you.” The two dates a week for the past month say different, but you weren’t going to actually disclose that number to her. “Maybe your heart has already laid claim to someone else?” 

“I think I would know if I was in love with someone.” She doesn’t say anything, but the way she inconspicuously sips her wine is telling you what she’s wanting to say. “Not this again.” 

She puts her hands up in defense all while having a shit eating grin on her face. “I didn’t even say anything, but you immediately assuming that’s who I’m talking about says it all.” 

“I’m not in love with Lando.” 

Yes you were. 

“I mean he’s one of my closest friends and it would just make things weird. He also for sure does not look at me in any way other than platonic. He’s got models flocking to him and literally thousands of other girls– I couldn’t compete.” Your friend remains silent once again as she sips her wine and watches the scene in front of her unfold. “Ok– just because I drunkenly admitted last year that I might possibly have a little tiny miniscule amount of feelings towards him does not mean I’m in love with him.” 

“Yes it does.” Your friend replies without missing a beat. 

“No it doesn’t” You say with a huff. 

“Y/N, babe. You don’t see what everyone else sees and maybe your brain is trying to protect itself from the small chance of destruction, but you two are so in love it’s actually ridiculous.” 

“I don’t think he’s looking for a relationship right now. If this season so far is any indication of what next season is gonna be like, do you really think he’ll want a serious relationship to juggle too?” You’d chugged the last bit of wine in your glass and immediately filled it back up. 

A loud scoff comes from your friend. “With some girl he just met? No. You are a whole different story though. You two have history and are quite literally each other’s person. Two peas in a pod. Match made in heaven.” 

You didn’t understand why your friend was so adamant about Lando and you getting together. What if it ended in flames and your friend group is stuck having to play children of divorce? You don’t want that. 

“Do you hear yourself right now? I think you’ve had too much wine because that’s not true.” 

She sits up on the edge of the wicker couch with an annoyed expression painted across her face  “Do you hear yourself? I’ve never seen someone deny themselves happiness like you.” 

“I don’t think I have actual feelings for Lando though. I really think it’s just because we are the only two single people in our friend group and it’s like I feel obligated to somehow have feelings for him. I just need to find the right person and whatever I may be feeling about Lando will go away.” 

If someone could professionally roll their eyes your friend would be a pro. “You’ve already found the right person though!”

Before you can argue back for the hundredth time tonight the familiar tune of an incoming facetime call fills the air. Your phone that’s sitting on the glass coffee table lights up and Lando’s face fills the screen. You glance over at your friend who’s got a smirk on her face that could rival the Cheshire Cat. 

“Speak of the devil.” She laughs. 

You let it ring, fully knowing that if you answer it your friend will be insufferable the whole time you’re talking to him. You do send him a quick text to make sure everything's alright and of course he immediately responds with-

everything's all right.. just missed you is all. 

Which has you locking your phone and stuffing it in the pocket of your hoodie. When you reach for your glass and realize it’s empty again you decide to just grab the bottle and drink straight from it. 

“Drinking from the bottle because you’ve come to terms with how dumb you’ve been?” Your friend teases. 

“Nope. It’s from having to deal with you all evening.” 

Alright so maybe you did have actual feelings for Lando, but you were never going to fully admit that to your friend or anyone else for that matter. You didn’t want to risk ruining what you two already had, which was an amazing friendship. So for the following months you continue to go on an endless amount of dates and with each one that fails your friend's voice rings in your mind.

Maybe you wouldn’t be able to find someone else if you subconsciously compared every guy to Lando. They were never funny enough or charming enough or took themselves too seriously. In the end it was simply the fact that they weren’t Lando. So maybe your heart had already dug its claws into Lando, but you weren’t going to give up without one last battle. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

New Year's Eve. The final night of the year and the one party of the year that celebrates ends and beginnings. You’d hoped that with the plan you had for tonight that your streak of horrible dates would end and the next one would be the one. The trend of eating twelve grapes under a table at midnight on New Year’s Eve had been all over your social media. According to the internet if you were to do this you’d find love or your soulmate the following year– which was something you were so desperate for. So, your said plan was to bring some grapes with you and find a table to sit under. 

As you were taking one last final look in the mirror a familiar British accent echoed through your apartment. “Are you almost ready?” 

You quickly slipped on your heels and grabbed your bag off the dresser, but by the time you turned around there stood Lando, leaning against your doorframe with a slight smirk on his face. “Been waiting forever. It’s gonna be next year by the time we get out of here.” 

His teasing, which usually always got a reaction out of you, was ignored. The sight of him had you frozen in your tracks for a moment. He had on a white button up, which he always looked good in, but it was the couple of undone buttons at the top and the necklace you got him for his birthday last year around his neck that got your attention. There was always something about seeing Lando in things you got him that made that funny feeling bloom in your stomach. Perhaps it was the fact that everytime he chose to wear them you knew he was thinking about you and that when he was away a part of you was always with him. 

“Quit staring.” 

You're knocked out of your trance and the blush that creeps onto your cheeks from getting caught is almost as embarrassing as being caught. “I wasn’t staring. I was admiring my good taste. Should have gotten one myself.” You try to play it off and push your way past him with what little amount of confidence you have at the moment. 

“I’ll get it for you, then we can be matching.” Lando says as he follows behind you. 

“I can buy it myself.” 

“Yeah, but I’m still gonna get it for you anyways.”

You stop in the kitchen and grab the little bag of grapes out of the fridge. “I don’t need you to get it for me Lan.” You’re too preoccupied with figuring out how to fit everything into your small purse to see the utterly confused look on Lando’s face. 

“Ok forget about the necklace. Why the hell are you bringing grapes with you?” 

“Incase I get hungry.” You reply without missing a beat. 

“There will literally be food at the party. I even made sure Max got those little cocktail sausages you like.” 

And there he goes again, making those feelings you’ve tried and are still presently trying to push down come to the surface all because of some damn cocktail sausages. “I appreciate that Lan, but I’ve been on a grape kick lately. Just can’t seem to get enough of them.” 

With your purse finally closed with the grapes securely inside, you head towards the door, more than ready to get to the party. 

“I’ll text Max and tell him to get some grapes delivered.” Lando mumbles as he closes the door behind him. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

You’d never considered yourself much of a party girl, but there must have been something in the air tonight because you were living it up. From the dancing to the drinking and then to top it off somehow in the middle of everything you showed off your DJing skills with Lando. 

Somehow you’d managed to unglue yourself from Lando for a moment and ended up in the kitchen among the various kinds of alcohol. You’re pouring the last bit of coke into your coke and malibu when Max comes up beside you. 

“I see you finally escaped from Lando for a moment.” 

An airy laugh emits from you. “Yeah, he’s been a little clingy tonight.” You state as you turn and lean back against the counter, facing the large crowd of people. 

Max copies your actions, but not before grabbing a beer. “What are you talking about tonight? When he’s back home it’s like you two are conjoined at the hip.”  Which was true, but you didn’t get to see Lando as much as you’d like, so you make the most of what you can. “Oh forgot to tell you, your grapes are in the fridge.” He motions towards the stainless steel appliance with his beer bottle. “Lando better pay me back. Do you know how much I paid to get that damn bag delivered? Absolutely insane.” 

Your mouth forms an ‘O’ shape at Max’s words. “I heard him mention something about asking you to get some when we were leaving. I thought he was just joking.” 

Max scoffs. “There is no such thing as Lando joking when it comes to you. Think he’d chop off his own arm to make sure you were happy. Hell if you needed an organ he’d be the first one in line to give you one.” 

This time it’s your turn to scoff. “No he wouldn’t.” 

“Why do you do that?” Max groans. 

You narrow your eyes at him, confused as to what he was referring to. “Do what?” 

“Act like he doesn’t think the world of you.” 

Your mouth opens to reply, but no words come out. Instead you bring your cup to your lips and fill the void with your drink. What Max had said was true, but you couldn’t help it. You figured if you forced yourself to think that Lando didn’t care that deeply about you, then those feelings that you harbor for him wouldn’t rise to the surface. It didn’t help that his behavior recently had you thinking that perhaps he felt the same about you and when you have your mutual friends in your ear implying that to be true it just makes things that much harder for you. 

“You probably haven’t even noticed that he’s been practically watching us talk this whole time have you?” 

You can feel your heart rate start to speed up just at the thought of it. As your eyes scan the room they finally land on the Brit standing in the corner with some other people, but he’s not actually engaging in the conversation, he’s too busy staring back at you. Somehow from across the room you can still see those pretty mixture of blue and green eyes of his sparkle and when he realizes you're finally looking back at him a shy smile spreads across his face before he’s quickly looking away. 

“Wish you two would stop dancing around each other and just admit what we all already know.” Max mumbles before taking a swig of his beer. 

Maybe it’s the mixture of alcohol and the fact that you’ve once again got someone in your ear about Lando and you, but you can sense those feelings starting to claw their way back up and you aren’t sure if you can push them back down tonight. 

“Ten minutes until midnight!” The DJ’s voice travels through the apartment and you’re sure Max will be getting some kind of fee taped to his door in the morning. 

Max says something about talking to you later before exiting the kitchen and you realize with ten minutes till midnight that you’ve got to get your grapes and find a table to fit under. For the moment you push Lando to the back of your mind and focus on your very important task at hand. 

Luckily for you Max had a decently sized dining table in his apartment so with your grapes in hand you crawled under the table, which thankfully was shielded by a tablecloth, and settled in for your feast. 

Lando on the other hand had been searching for you everywhere since the ten minute announcement. He’d literally just seen you in the kitchen with Max and then when he looked back again you were both gone. He’d gone in the bathrooms, the bedrooms, the closets, every single place he could think you would be and it’s like you had vanished. Max had a large apartment, especially to be living in London, but it wasn’t that big to allow for you to not be found. His texts to you had gone unanswered and he began to think maybe you had left, but he knew you would have told him if you were leaving, so that theory went out the window. 

When the five minute announcement hit his ears he began asking people if they had seen you and with each no or i think she was in the kitchen a while ago he received his hopes of finding you before midnight started to diminish. 

He’d finally worked up the courage to tell you how he’d felt tonight. After years of holding himself back and not wanting to ruin what you two already had, he’d decided that life was too short and that he would come to regret not allowing himself to truly love you like he should. He knew you were the one and there wasn’t a bone in his body that didn’t think you didn’t feel the same. So, he was finally going to bite the bullet tonight and he wanted you to be the person he was kissing as the clock struck twelve. But if he couldn’t find you, then how in the world was he supposed to do that? 

Lando was honestly starting to get worried over not being able to find you, screw the whole love confession at this point. What if something had happened to you? He’d been all over Max’s place countless times and he still couldn’t find you. With the official countdown echoing through the apartment he decided to just say fuck it and head to your place and see if you had gone home.

As he was heading to get his coat a familiar sparkly heel sticking out from under the dining table caught his attention. It was the same type of heels he’d seen you put on earlier and he did somewhat of a double take. He wondered if it was the couple drinks he’d had messing with him because why would you be sitting under Max’s dining table? 

He crouches down and slowly lifts the table cloth up, unsure of what he’s going to find underneath it. Everyone is only getting louder and with five seconds until midnight what he finds staring back at him under the table is not at all how he expected his night to end up. There you are with your now empty bag of grapes on the floor and your cheeks stuffed full of said grapes. You resemble something of a chipmunk and Lando can’t help but laugh at you. 

“What the hell are you doing down here?” 

The excessively loud shouting of happy new year from everyone while noise makers and confetti fill the air distract both Lando and you for a moment. He didn’t think this is the position he’d be in right now, he figured he’d be in that crowd with his lips on yours like so many others right now. While you on the other hand didn’t think you’d be caught in such an embarrassing situation, not to mention you hadn’t even gotten all your grapes down, so this stupid thing was probably all for nothing. 

His attention is back on you in no time and he really wants to know what you were doing. Were you that addicted to grapes that you had to hide under the table while you got your fix? If so, he may need to have a talk with you. 

“Seriously, why are you hiding under the table stuffing grapes into your mouth?” He prods again. 

Your mouth is still so full of the grapes that you can’t really talk and all you can manage to get out is leave while simultaneously trying to jab his leg with your heel. You were embarrassed and at this point scared you might choke on the grapes, and you’d rather go out in peace then have Lando cause a scene because you were choking. 

“Ouch!” Lando yelps as your heel finally makes contact with him. You know he’s being dramatic because you barely even kicked him, but you would try anything for him to drop that table cloth and let you be. “Come on, come out from under there.” Lando grabs your arm and practically forces you to come out from under the table.

Luckily, everyone else was too preoccupied with still ringing in the New Year to see you crawl out and as you dust yourself off you're still chomping on the last couple grapes left. The party only seems to be getting crazier and you don’t really feel like staying here until the party inevitably ends at an ungodly hour in the morning, especially now that your plan for love has undoubtedly failed. 

You finally swallow the last couple grapes and take a deep breath, the fear of choking and embarrassment now behind you. “Do you care if I leave? Not really feeling the party that much anymore.” 

Lando doesn’t even question your request. “I’ll walk you home, let me grab our coats and tell Max we are leaving.” 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The cold England air hits you as you exit Max’s apartment building and you’re thankful that your place isn’t very far from his. It’s silent between Lando and you for some time, the sound of your heels on the pavement, fireworks in the distance, and other people celebrating are the only things you two hear. 

“Can I ask you something?” Lando finally breaks the silence. 

“Shoot.” 

He takes a deep breath fully knowing once he opens this locked away side of him that there’s no going back. “Have you ever thought about us?” 

You feel your heart skip a beat at his question, yet you try to remain cool and collected. “What do you mean?” 

He stops in his tracks causing you to mimic his actions. “Like,” he motions between the two of you, “us.”

There’s not a doubt in your mind about what he’s referring to and yes you do think about the two of you. Yet your brain feels scrambled once you're actually confronted with the possibility of Lando feeling the same as you. You’d tried so hard to ignore the feelings, hell you’d tried something you saw on the internet to hopefully bring a different man into your life to finally squash those feelings. You’d just never thought you’d be in this position though and it’s throwing you into a whirlwind. 

Lando isn’t sure what your silence means and he figures he’s already started, he might as well just fully admit it at this point. 

“Fuck it. I told myself I was going to do this tonight and I’m not gonna chicken out again.” His cheeks are rosy from the cold and you can tell by the way his pretty eyes dart all around your face that he’s trying to figure out how to say what he wants to say. “I’ve got feelings for you.” He finally blurts out.

“No scratch that I’m in love with you Y/N. Think I have been for some time now. I’ve tried telling you how I felt for what seems like ages, but I’ve always been too scared to. I’ve been afraid that you wouldn’t feel the same and to me I’d rather bottle up my feelings and keep you in my life then tell you how I feel and lose you. But clearly I’ve grown tired of that and realized that the reward would be higher than the risk. You’re my person Y/N. I couldn’t imagine life without you and to have you be mine would make life that much better. So here I am baring my heart to you on some street in London on New Year’s Eve. I actually had a whole plan on how I was-” 

His rambling while you loved most of the time was cut off by your desire to shut him up with your lips on his and you did just that. You grabbed him by his coat and pulled him into you, your lips crashing together. It takes him a moment to realize what's happening, but when his brain finally starts to work and he kisses you back it’s everything you could have imagined and more.

Kissing Lando is like heaven on Earth and the way his soft lips feel against yours has you wishing you would have just stopped being so stubborn and listened to your friends ages ago. His large warm hands come out of his pockets and he cups your face as he deepens the kiss, which has you feeling lightheaded and warm all over. 

There’s fireworks being let off not too far away that light up the sky above you, but you’re too engrossed in each other to pay them much mind. It’s truly like a scene straight out of a movie and you know you’ll remember this moment forever. 

You two finally pull away to breathe and it’s like you can see the world in a whole new way. The depressing grey landscape of London in the winter time suddenly looks like it was painted in technicolor and neither of you can wipe the cheek hurting grin off your faces. “So I guess you feel the same?” He asks. 

“Yes Lando Norris, I’m in love with you too. Have been for a while and like you I didn’t want to ruin what we already have. To me there was no possible way that you felt the same and I hate rejection and the idea of losing you. So, I went on a million dates trying to find someone that would replace how I felt about you, but I guess you can’t replace someone who your heart has already laid claim to.” 

You feel Lando intertwine your fingers with his and it’s like everything just feels right in the world. 

“I’m glad we stopped being so stubborn and that I don’t have to see you out with all those random guys anymore.” 

“Believe me, none of them even came close to comparing to you. It was like going on a date with a sack of potatoes most of the time.” 

His infectious laugh fills your ears and you feel your heart swell. You can’t believe this was what you were depriving yourself of for so long. 

The rest of the walk back to your apartment is spent walking hand in hand. All while little giggles escape each of you ever so often and Lando occasionally kisses you on the head or lifts your intertwined hands up to plant a kiss there. 

“I have to ask again. It’s really been bugging me. What were you doing under that table?” Lando asks as you near your apartment building. A loud groan emits from you and there isn’t anything less that you would want to talk about than that. “Come on, just tell me!” 

“Fine! I saw this thing on the internet that if you eat twelve green grapes under a table at midnight that it’s supposed to bring you luck in the love department in the New Year. Like you’d find your soulmate or something. I was so desperate to try and get over these feelings I have for you so what we had wouldn’t be ruined that I was willing to try anything.” 

He’s silent for a moment and then he looks at you with the biggest smile on his face. “Well I’d say it worked didn’t it? You’ve found love and not to be overzealous, but I’d say your soulmate too.” 

You’re stunned for a moment when you realize that yes, the grapes did work, just not in the way you planned. The universe had put Lando in your life years ago and for some weird reason had you wait this long to finally truly be in one another's lives, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. Hell, you’d eat a whole package of grapes if that meant Lando and you got to be together in every lifetime. 

“They did, didn't they? I guess almost choking to death was worth it in the end.” 

“I mean I know I’m every woman’s dream, but you didn’t almost have to kill yourself to get my attention baby.” 

You playfully slap his arm as he laughs at you. That big head of his was sometimes fully ego and you realized you were going to have to put up with it all the time now. “Oh shut up.” 

“Yeah, but you love me.” He states before pressing a kiss to your lips, which has your mind feeling like TV static once again. 

When you pull away and look him in the eyes there’s nothing but pure love staring back at you and you know that this is who is meant to be in your life, till the end. “More than you’ll ever know.” 

The next morning you receive a group text from Max with Lando and you in it.  

max: why have i found an empty bag with what looks to be a grape stem in it under my dining table??? i fully know it was one of you.

you: i don’t know what you're talking about. 

lando: me either. no grapes were consumed by us last night. must have been someone else. 

[starfieldcanvas]

reminds me of an argument i had in high school trying to explain that the expression was "play it by ear"—meaning "figure it out as it's happening, rather than plan ahead", like a musician listening to a song for the first time and playing an accompaniment spontaneously without sheet music—not "play it by year."

my best friend at the time insisted that it had to be "play it by year" because it was an expression about future plans and scheduling, not music, so "year" made more sense because it was a time measurement; she had some idea in her head about "let's keep our plans vague and figure it out later" matching well with a long-term time unit like "year", like, let's not figure out our schedule to the minute, let's take the long view and play it by year!

which, that is a very creative and interesting retroactive justification for a misheard expression ("it's a moo point—it's like a cow's opinion, it doesn't matter!") but what she thought was her strongest argument was that her mother said "year" instead of "ear," and her mother had gone to Yale, and did I really think someone who had studied English at Yale would be wrong about something like this?

i had to give up the point because another girl in our group was agreeing with her and this was before teenagers had smartphones so we couldn't just look it up on the quad. one of those silly things you remember for far too long because you know you're 100% right and nobody believes you.

---

longtime followers of mine may recall that i myself have a pet peeve misheard expression. this one is a real headache because the misheard version is far more popular than the original.

misheard version: "if you think [x], you've got another thing coming."

original version: "if you think [x], you've got another think coming."

because "coming" starts with a k sound, the k at the end of think blends into the c of coming and all you hear is the "iihnng" at the end of "think" that can be easily mistaken for "thing."

but the misheard "thing" version caught on decades and decades ago, to the point that you'll see it regularly in published media, and therefore never have any reason to question the "thing" version, even though it's much duller than the original.

"you've got another think coming" is an excellent folksy way to say "think again!" or, more specifically, "you'll be forced to think again because of what I'm going to do." even if you're only familiar with the "thing" version, you can recognize the logical progression of the original: the first think in the beginning of the phrase leads to another think in the second part.

"you've got another thing coming" seems to be interpreted by most people as a direct threat: the people I've asked tell me they imagine the "thing" in question is a fist or a beating (if they think it refers to anything at all—some people just interpret it as a meaningless filler word.) if you assume the "thing" is a direct threat, it narrows the utility of the expression quite a bit. after all, you can say "you've got another think coming" to mean "I'm going to prove your assumption wrong" in whatever way makes the most sense in context, while still benefitting from the repetition of "think x? think again!"

by contrast, while "thing" can technically be whatever you want it to be (e.g. "if he thinks he's going to win this game, he's got another thing [a defeat] coming", "if she thinks she's going to get away with fraud, she's got another thing [a lawsuit] coming") it still needs to be in the form of A Thing. So it wouldn't quite sound right in, for example, "if Great-Aunt Edna thinks I'm coming to visit, she's got another thing coming." You're not going to beat up your Great-Aunt Edna, and "me not coming to visit" isn't really a "thing" in the way the expression needs it to be to work. You could maybe say the thing Great-Aunt Edna has coming is "disappointment," but you'll be much better served by the original expression.

this has been a public service announcement to rescue "you've got another think coming" from the dustbin of history.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Injured (Jenni's Version): Christmas

Jenni Hermoso x Child!Reader

Summary: Christmas with Bambi and Jenni

"Mama?" You ask as Jenni checks her reflection in the car mirror.

It's dark outside and it looks like it's cold outside of the nice, warm car. It's not snowing or anything but it'll still be cold, you can tell.

"Yeah, bambi?" Jenni fluffs her hair briefly before smoothing it down again when it doesn't have the desired effect, folding back the sleeves of her shirt.

"What if they don't like me?"

You can't look at her in the rear view mirror, choosing to look down at your feet.

Jenni bought you a pair of shoes that look exactly like your favourite ballet flats but could be worn outside so you're wearing them now. They're a nice, pretty pink colour and shiny too.

You flex your feet inside the shoes just to see them move.

"What if who doesn't like you?"

Jenni tries to catch your eyes but you refuse to look at her.

"Your Mami and Papa. What if they don't like me?"

Jenni twists around in the driving seat to look at you properly.

You're wearing your new shoes and a very cute reindeer pyjama set and an even cuter train conductor hat that Jenni had bought on a whim after seeing it in the window of a charity shop as she passed by.

Andy sits in the seat next to you, little tail wagging as he stands next to you in a matching outfit to protect him from the cold.

"Why wouldn't they like you?"

You shrug, still looking down at your feet. "'Cause I don't look like you. The kids at school say I can't be your daughter if I don't look like you."

Jenni undoes her seatbelt and climbs over the centre console into the back with you.

Andy seems overjoyed, trying to escape his own seatbelt to lather her in kisses but Jenni's only focus is on you.

"Those kids at school are stupid."

"Mama, you say to never call people stupid."

"Huh...I guess I do but I can't help it if people are stupid and kids like that are. Alright? It doesn't matter if we don't look like each other. Do you know why, bambi?"

"Why?"

"Because we chose each other." Jenni gently unclips you from your car seat and pulls you into her lap. "And I think that means more than anyone will understand."

You rest your head on her shoulder, reaching out to gently play with her fingers as you think through her words. "Really?"

"Really. The kids at school are silly for thinking that just because we don't look alike means we're not family."

"Like how Andy's family too? Even though he's a dog and we're not?"

"Exactly like Andy. He's still part of the family and we still love him the same."

You nod. It's only a little nod, barely a movement of the head but Jenni feels it against her shoulder. "And your Mami and Papa will understand that I'm like Andy? And I'm still yours even though I wasn't always?"

"My Mami and Papa have been looking forward to meeting you for so long," Jenni replies. Her fingers gently stroke up and down your back, touches featherlight as she draws you close to her body like she wants to enshrine you under her skin - kept close and safe forever next to her.

"Are you sure?"

"It's all they've been talking about for weeks," Jenni assures you," They're so excited for you to open the presents they got you."

"They...They got me presents?"

That shouldn't have really been surprising for you. It's Christmas. People get other people presents for Christmas. But, still, you find yourself a bit confused.

Jenni was Mama, that was certain. That was definite. She did all the things that Mamas were meant to do like feed you and give you cuddles and kisses and take you to ballet and even let you sleep in bed with her when you woke up from a nightmare.

Jenni was Mama but that didn't make her parents automatically your Abuela and Abuelo. Jenni chose you. Jenni looked at you and decided that she would be your Mama. You chose her too.

But her parents haven't chosen you. Not yet anyway.

You've met them before, a long while ago when you were still Alexia's. It had only been in passing though and you don't really remember them now.

You wonder if they're actually excited to see you or if that's what they told Jenni.

You wonder if the presents they got you are actually something you'll like or something they think you should like.

The little knot in your stomach returns, like a tiger pacing its cage and you lean more heavily into Jenni.

"Tell you what," She says softly," We'll go inside, we'll open our presents and if you're still filling a little icky, we'll grab some dessert for the trip home and get out of there."

"Really, Mama?"

"Of course." Jenni presses a kiss to your crown. "It doesn't matter where we are so long as we celebrate Christmas together."

[nanamiscocksleeve]

how do u think the lads boys will handle the period cramp simulator?

Pain Tolerance

Zayne: He's probably not a stranger to pain during our period since he's a doctor who appears to be well-read about women's health (like him making us red date tea when we got our period).

But I think he's unaware of just how painful cramps can actually be. He's medically curious so he'll easily agree to being attached to the machine. He'll hold up for the first few levels and about midway he'll probably be surprised and grit his teeth.

I think Zayne has a high pain tolerance given that his evol literally leaves scars on him but he won't try to be macho and say it isn't that painful. Amp it up all the way I think he'll openly say this is the most awful thing he's experienced. After it's all over he realizes that while he is a good partner during these times, you go through this every month and it makes him more empathetic to your struggle.

Xavier: He knows your period can make you miserable and is willing to try it just to see how bad it is, but is a little hesitant about it.

On the lower settings he'll probably admit this is already uncomfortable and that he doesn't understand how women are supposed to think with this tingling in their lower body all day.

On the mid to higher levels, he's curled up in a ball panting. He's never imagined that this could be so painful and he's wondering how you manage to get out of bed and get to work like this. How do you focus on your day with this horrible ache in your belly, which also seems to crawl down to your lower back and legs?

During this time he'll probably ask to hold hands until it's switched off. He's sweating and asks for chocolate afterwards since that's what you seem to like when on your period. He says he'll never try that again but he also will do more for you now that he knows what your body experiences.

Sylus: Sylus has an image to maintain. He's not cocky enough to believe your cramps aren't painful, but he's seen you being a boss on your period and has convinced himself that if you can look that badass, he can too.

He's wrong. Like Zayne, he's fine for the first few levels but he says he understands why you complain that you feel like you're peeing during this phase. Amp it up at the mid-levels and he's wincing, trying to massage his belly to relieve some of the ache. He tries to act normal but can't, and it's humbling to him that you can go about your day like this and he's crumpled on the sofa.

At the highest level he's lying supine, saying this pain makes him want to murder things. He's sweating and has realized that you definitely have the higher pain tolerance because while you manage to go to work and complete all your tasks, he's thinking about drafting a will and asking you to take care of the twins. This is not a man who neglects you when you're on your period but after this experience, he creates a special storeroom just for you and fills it with all the things you'd ever need for an upcoming period.

Rafayel: I think Rafayel would be a little more playful about this until he experiences it himself. Like Sylus, he thinks that just because you can handle it, he can handle it.

Our dramatic little fish boi will lounge on the sofa as the simulator is hooked up to him. He'll say it tingles when it's turned on and as it amps up he'll probably realize he's bitten off more than he can chew. He'll complain the whole time saying this is miserable and askng why nature decided to make women go through this every month.

At the mid to higher levels he's swearing he's dying and that he needs immediate medical assistance. Thomas keeps bringing him glasses of water and he's groaning in pain, fingers curled into the sofa as he begs for the machine to be turned off.

Once he's unhooked from the machine, he'll probably sob in relief and tell you you're the bravest person to exist for dealing with this with hardly any drama every month. He'll also advise you to take time off when you get your period next and insist he'll run all your errands and get food for you and that he doesn't want you lifting a finger during this time.

© nanamiscocksleeve original work | no copying, plagiarizing or translating

[duck9irbl]

(okay I just read this and 10/10 first off 2nd dose that mean we know each other from before?)

My guess is past lives. In almost all timelines in almost all universes they got to together. But of those time lines and universes their we're more painful endings then happy ones. He doesn't remember all no... if he did surely it would have drove him insane? The bits and piece he dose remember... you we're his favorite memory. The way you look, the way you act, the way you changed may all be different. But how could he ever forget those wonderful little moments with you? How whenever you we're happy it seemed you had a beat in your step. How when you we're truly interested in something how your eyes would sparkle. Your laughter no matter how soft or loud it can be. How you smile with the curve of your lips. The slight annoyance yet amusement whenever we teased or joked with you. The way you look, the way you act, the way you changed may all be different. But the way how his name rolled after the tip of your tongue. That he could always recognize you no matter how many times you've changed or how you two ended up.

Timeline 1 He apologizes but just leaves yet watches you from afar: You we're a stranger after all and he had no time for that yet... He sees you again and again. With little moments like no ones watching. He doesn't know you and you don't recognize him. But... he grew fond of seeing you pass by nothing more just something about you. Till one day... you didn't show up and the next and the next till he heard of your dreadful demise. Guilt strikes him as he remembers leavening before you could say something "Your Grace-" he left just like that. He doesn't know why he feels this way he doesn't even know you! Yet regardless of what he thinks the guilt still their till the very end.

Timeline 2 You 2 become co-workers!:

Timeline 3 You 2 become rivals!:

Timeline 4 One-sided love (on your side):

Timeline 5 You 2 become friends!:

Timeline 6 One-sided love (on his side):

Timeline 7 You 2 become best friends!:

Timeline 8 Both pining after the other but never said anything:

So on and so forth if he made the right dictions if he made the right choses he could help you, save you. But if he didn't... but forever and always to him you were the brightest star in his sky and his favorite memory to match. Fate just has a funny way of messing with the both you.

— stardust

the world is a vast place. in the grand scheme of things, humans are but a speck of dust; much like how you are sure you are nothing but a meagre speck of dust in the world he lives in, forever to be remained unseen. (if only you knew how you are the brightest star he'd ever laid his eyes upon.)

CONTAINS : gn!reader, 1.5k wc, royalty!au, contract marriage/marriage of convenience, fluff, smitten reca bc what would he be other than smitten, a little hint of bittersweet at the end if read between the lines aha...

A/N : ....i have a paper due monday. i havent started it. why do i do this to myself. (reca i love u can u not hear my cries and wails as fic after fic appears in my brain for u...)

Duke Reca of the northern territory; to many he is a well-accomplished noble, a young genius set for greater things, and the owner-slash-founder of the top theatre company. He is an idol — a role model to those who aspire to be more involved in the artistic side of the world.

To you, however, he is an absolute lunatic, the bane of your existence, and your contractual husband.

It's not like you had much choice. It was either: a) remain as a hollow puppet whose strings danced at your family's fingertips, or b) find some way to escape with outside power.

You, of course, chose the second option. Unfortunately, that somehow led to you meeting the young duke when out in the shopping district, trying to escape the suffocating presence of your family's knights accompanying you by running into a secluded alleyway, even if it was for but a momentary breather.

It was a whirlwind of a meeting... quite literally. Bodies flew; clothing tousled; breaths stolen. Well, at least for you it was like this. He, on the other hand, looked right as rain. (Lucky bastard.) You hadn't realised it was him at first, too absorbed in hasty apologies and the numbing bloom spreading across your backside like a wildfire (really, they ought to incorporate more padding in these flimsy clothes!), but when he uttered an apology of his own for not paying attention to his surroundings with an arm outstretched to help you stand, your mind all but blanked. What was someone of his status doing in a dingy alley? Didn't the newspapers report word of his self-confinement, having not stepped foot outside his manor in fervent preparation of his upcoming performance?

No, never mind all that; wasn't this a blatant opportunity being presented to you? An outside power that could help you escape the clutches of your family...

With gritted teeth, all sense of self-dignity was cast aside as you grasped his outstretched hand with both of your own, gazing into his widened eyes with your own narrowed ones.

"Your Grace, I know this is hardly the appropriate time nor place, but please... marry me!" Your words echoed within the enclosed space. Duke Reca blinked slowly down at you, and it was then you realised you never elaborated. "In... in a contractual marriage of convenience, of course."

"Oh?" he grinned, amusement and intrigue twinkling in his eyes. "And what is it you can offer me?"

"I..." Truthfully, there was nothing you could offer which would be beneficial to someone like him who had everything at the tips of his fingers. You were but a speck of dust in his world, merely floating and remaining unseen within his view. But even so, here you kneeled before him, his gaze wholly fixated on a speck of dust such as yourself. If nothing else, you at least had your desperation — a desperation to be your own person. "My lineage may be from that of a baron's, but I am confident I can be of use to you if you would permit it. So long as you accept my offer, I will do anything to aid you, whether that be through practical means or a performance you wish to see."

A beat of silence.

"Ha... haha... ahahaha!!"

And, as if things couldn't get any worse than a sore rear and disgruntled self, you were pulled out of your daze by a pair of gleaming carmine eyes, a maniacal grin, and his body, now kneeled just like you were, so very close to your own.

"That determination... how brilliantly you burn with such an expression!" The sheer glee which bled through his tone sent shivers down your spine, having never realised someone so esteemed had such a side to him. The duke breathed a breathy laugh and slightly backed up, his hands still holding your arms. "Alright, I look forward to seeing how brightly you will shine in your performance, my dear leading actor."

...Was it too late to back out and find an alternative solution?

Admittedly so, for the next thing you knew vows were declared and you were moved into the duke's residence. You could still remember your family's aghast expressions the moment you declared you were marrying Duke Reca and thus cutting ties with them. It was oddly freeing to see their contorted faces reveal their true nature.

Life as the duke's spouse was... something, to say the least. His servants and attendants almost seemed to have shed tears of joy at the revelation of their ever so lonely duke (their words, not yours) finally settling down and getting married, asking you questions such as how you both met, what drew you to their duke, who popped the question first, why you chose him of all people, so on so forth. It was... cosy. Something you admittedly weren't very accustomed to, but found yourself welcoming nonetheless.

One thing you never expected was for the duke to have a little pet of his own; a little toad dressed in a miniature beret and matching suit, at that. Assistant Director is what Reca had called her, and you think for someone so obsessed with the arts he ought to up his naming sense. She was also quite susceptible to compliments, something you discovered when commenting on the little toad's cute attire, with the duke's baffling translation of her bashfulness and her own compliment on your own looks. Apparently. You're not really sure, but you're inclined to believe it ever since she claimed a spot on your shoulder.

As the days-turned-weeks-turned-months bled into each other, you found yourself oddly lost at how well-adapted you have become of your new life and the duke's personality. From impromptu displays of affection both in and outside the manor to sporadic radio silence on his end when wholly consumed by his fervent passion for a project, you sometimes wonder just how you're still alive with the amount of heart attacks the man has given you.

But despite his... eccentricities, to put it lightly, there are times where you can't quite put a finger on certain expressions he would make when he thinks you're not looking. They're unlike his (once again, to put it very lightly) passionate eyes when rambling to you during mealtimes about an upcoming performance the troupe has; unlike the sheer mania he can exude when something truly sparks his inspiration; unlike the playfully smug grin he would give you when swooping down in dramatic flair to press a long kiss to the back of your palm; unlike the rare darkening of his expression that you cannot help but stiffen at when something or someone in the troupe doesn't quite match his expectations.

No. These ones are... soft. A kind of tenderness and unprecedented longing able to be identified if scrutinised close enough. It was evident in the ghost-like touches he would trail along your skin, as though afraid just a little more force would do irreparable damage. It was evident in the attention to even the most minute details, having everything from clothing to food to the decor suited to preferences you yourself never realised you had. It was evident in the way unadulterated fondness leaked through his tone when his unique terms of affection for you slipped through his lips when all was silent and you were supposed to be asleep.

"My dearest star..."

...Much like now, it would seem.

The bed dips by where your knees slightly bend, hidden under the beige covers. A familiar musky scent surrounds you not long after, and you find yourself involuntarily relaxing at the comfort it brings as your head further burrows into the pillow.

You want to stay awake, even if it's just for a second longer, to hear what he has to say to your less than conscious state. But, oh, his fingers threading through your hair and softly massaging your scalp and the gentle touch of his forehead against yours and the subtle comforting warmth that rolls off his body in waves does little to help you fight the sleep which easily takes over.

Oh, whatever! You'll just try and catch what he has to say next time.

Eventually your breathing evens out, only soft snores now heard within the large shared bedroom. Upon noticing this, Reca cannot stop the fond smile which lifts the corners of his lips, nor can he prevent the softening of his eyes as he continues to gaze at your sleeping form.

"My dearest [Name]," he whispers into the dead of night. Even now, several months later, he still cannot believe his luck to have run into you in that alleyway. It must have been fate which made him heed its call, urging him he would discover something sure to escape that terrible slump plaguing him for weeks on end.

Sure enough, it brought him to something irreplaceable; something he has been searching desperately for.

You.

And, with the tenderest of kisses pressed to your forehead that would put even the most sickening romantics to shame, he murmurs words of promise against your skin, an oath he swears to uphold no matter the obstacles which stand before him.

"In this life, I will ensure you have only the best of endings."

if you enjoyed this, reblogs and/or comments are greatly appreciated <33

[verycoolusername1]

You Laugh Exactly The Same

Summary: Everyone is back home for the holidays. It feels nothing has changed(if you take away the years)

Platonic!hughes brothers x reader, one mention of Nico Hischier x reader(jokingly) and mention of Quinn hughes x reader(once again a joke)

Bonus Track of the fruitcake masterlist - Holidays

A/N: My first platonic fic, how we feeling?? And why is this song lowkey kinda sad

Also, I didn't know how to end it, so sorry if the endings weird!!!

You were an honorary sibling in the hughes household. You practically grew up with them. They were your chosen family.

You shut your car door, suitcase in hand. As you smiled at the sight in front of you. The lake house, you've been coming here since your college days. Time flies when you're having fun it seems.

You were about to open the door when it opened for you, Luke, on the other side with the biggest grin on his face.

"Y/N's here!" He called out to his family before capturing you in a bone crushing hug.

Jack ran to the door, Quinn following behind.

"Dude, get off. You're crushing them." Jack tried to pull Luke off of you.

"Both of you are gonna crush them if you keep acting like that." Quinn smiled at the scene in front of him.

"Quinn's right. Off both of you." Ellen ordered.

Their arms were off you instantly at her words. You chuckled slightly.

"Barely got through the door, and you're already trying to kill me." You grinned as you moved towards your room.

The boys minus Quinn(for the moment) went after you.

"Are you two just gonna follow me around like a lost puppy the whole time?" You asked, turning around.

"We missed you in Jersey. Quinn got you all to himself this season." Luke grumbled.

"I was only there for work." You rolled your eyes.

"Well, it still doesn't make me feel better." Jack groaned as he flopped on the bed.

"Yeah, like, who knows what you could have done together!" Luke's face scrunched up in disgust. "Actually, don't think about that... ew."

"I'm choosing to ignore that because we're all friends here, and well, you know... Quinn's not my type." You put your clothes in the closet.

"Thank god!" Luke sighed.

Jack immediately perked up. "That's not true! Remember when we were fourteen and your baby crush on him?"

Your face flushed in embarrassment. "That was a long time ago!"

"Seems like the baby crush didn't go away." Luke mumbles.

"Alright, both of you, out right now." You dismissed them.

Jack and Luke laughed at your reaction before leaving the room, proud with themselves.

You continue to get settled in, satisfied with the progress.

"I thought I told you guys to leave me alone." You said, not bothering to look up.

Quinn chuckled. "You haven't told me anything at all, actually."

"Shit, sorry." You apologized. "Thought you were Jack and Luke."

Quinn leaned on the wall in amusement. "Well, I'm sure whatever they did can be redeemed."

You laughed at his words. "Yeah, I'm sure they'll just gladly accept doing everything for me the whole break."

"Well, I'd be glad to do that." Quinn immediately responds in a mumble.

You looked at him. "What did you say?"

"Oh uh nothing just you know gonna be lots of work for that." Quinn lied. "Maybe try the next best thing?"

"Oo hmm definitely letting me hookup with their captain, kinda hot don't you think?" You asked.

Quinn rolled his eyes. "Well, I'm not into guys, so I can't give you an exact opinion, but... he looks nice for his age. I don't know."

"You guys are literally the same age!" You chuckled.

Quinn chuckled alongside you. "Yeah, yeah, whatever... Are you coming down for the bonfire tonight or going to bed early?"

"Wouldn't miss seeing Jack getting caught on fire for the world." You yawned slightly as you nodded your head.

Quinn grinned at your words as he held out his hand for you to take. You did, of course.

The two of you went downstairs to the porch where Jack and Luke sat, Jim and Ellen leaving early with promises to come back early tomorrow.

"There you two are, we were dying out here." Jack exaggerates.

Luke nods in agreement. "You left us unsupervised!"

You shook your head as you sat down. "You both are adults and are or past 21."

"Let's be real. You and Quinn are the adults here." Luke said, Jack heavily agreeing.

Quinn merely shrugged. "It's the older sibling in us."

"You're only a couple months older than me, Y/n, not much to go off of." Jack nudged you.

You nudged him back. "I still think it's quite far."

Jack rolled his eyes as Luke and Quinn laughed at the interaction.

"Honestly, I'm surprised you two kept the fire alive." Quinn spoke up.

You chuckled slightly. "It's uh, you know, a survival instinct. Jack knows a lot about that."

Jack groaned. "That was one time!"

You burst out laughing at his words. "Probably the best day of my life."

Luke chuckled slightly before his eyes widened.

"We should make smores." Luke says. Quinn hummed in agreement.

It was moments like this with the boys that you loved the most, seeing them not having a care in the world and just enjoying themselves... even if it's at your own expense but nonetheless you loved them.

Many more laughs and smores were shared throughout the night, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

[daveth-isnt-dead]

Coalescence part 1/3

Summary:

She’s so nervous that her breath catches in her lungs and doesn’t come back out, from her side she can hear Viktor’s foot tapping a frantic rhythm against the tiles. Without even thinking it through, her hand finds his and grabs it tight. He doesn’t pull back, if anything he holds hers even tighter. The question rises once again, unbidden. What are we? AKA: She works with Viktor for seven years, she is in love with him for five of them.

Contains: she/her pronouns, supremely slow burn, me pretending to know what science is

Word Count: 7,722

Read on AO3

What are we? She wonders, sitting across the room from the two brilliant minds behind Hextech. Not friends, certainly; colleagues barely. Strangers, probably. She hadn't exactly been looking for assistant work, but after years of flitting between different fields of study but never finding anything that really stuck, an assistant position offered her the freedom to study whatever she pleased without the looming threat of expulsion should she continue skirting the requirement of choosing a major. Heimerdinger had a hand in this, of course. She’s noticed recently, he’s had a hand in a great many things. Didn’t want to forsake a bright mind over some simple indecision, he’d argued, and then tossed her headfirst into the very new Hextech lab without much of a warning. 

She mostly sits in the corner, brings coffee even though neither of them ever actually asks for it, and works on her own research well out of the way of whatever potential explosion brews on the other side of the room. They had a lengthy discussion the day she first joined, both of them up in arms as if Heimerdinger had just assigned her to keep an eye on them. He had, but she had very little interest in doing so and told them as much. 

“I keep to myself.” She’d said, “You’ll forget I’m even there.” Then, remembering that she was supposed to be an assistant, added, “Unless you need something, of course.”

They rarely ever need something, at least not something that they can’t already work out between the two of them. She feels a bit like a hanger-on, and an unwanted presence, but it’s better than expulsion. So she ignores the other side of the room as best she can and quietly flips through a textbook about whatever has her attention that month. Most recently it’s pottery, and she hopes that she might be able to sneak out of the room and try her hand at the wheel in the fine arts wing of the academy before it’s locked for the evening. 

She peers up from her textbook to look at the clock on the wall. It’s just an hour until then and from what she can hear behind her it seems they are still very much in the middle of something. They probably wouldn't even notice if she were to go missing. 

So she closes the cover on her book and tucks it under her arm, spinning around in her chair to announce that unless they need anything, she’s headed to another department for the end of the day, only to stop in place when she realises that Jayce is missing. “How long has he been gone?” She asks, more to herself than anyone else. 

Viktor, who’s hunched over a pile of notes on the other side of the room gives her a dismissive gesture over his shoulder and doesn't even bother turning around. “Only fifteen minutes, he’s getting dinner.”

“I could have done that.” 

He shrugs, “He thought you seemed busy.” and then, peering at her over his shoulder, “He also thought the walk might help clear his head.” She clutches tightly at the book under her arm, suddenly feeling a bit guilty about her plan to leave early, especially with the sun already setting and Viktor now alone in the room. She bristles, almost defensively, “He really should have asked me to do it, that’s the only thing I ever do around here.”

Viktor hums, “Indeed.” She wants to get angry at first, to snap at him. It wouldn't help any though, it’s not like the two of them really wanted an assistant. How infrequently they ever ask for her help is proof enough. They wanted her here as much as she wanted to be here: very little. Even still, they’re stuck together and letting Viktor have it over something that wasn’t his fault would only make things worse. So she bites her tongue. 

“What did he need to clear his head of?” She asks, trying to wrench something from him that might result in at least a shred of goodwill, “Are you having trouble?”

In the month or so that she’s been sequestered in the back corner of the lab, she hasn't overheard anything more than a minor setback, the occasional explosion. Though in her mind, an explosion is still at least a lesson in what not to do. Progress is progress. This is the first time she’s seen either of them truly stumped. 

“We’re at the edge of a breakthrough.” Viktor replies, “But we cannot seem to get over it.”

Decision made, she places her book back down on the desk and starts walking over to the other side of the room, “Hard spot to be in, are you just going through your notes?” He sighs, “For now, yes. Though it hasn’t helped any.” 

His desk is large enough that there’s space for her to lean up beside him. He looks tired when he peers up at her, though from what she’s seen of him, that’s pretty normal. Positioned where she is, she covers up most of the setting sun as it streams in through the window, all but for one perfect beam of it that slices down the right side of Viktor’s face, straight across his eye. Her head tilts, had they always been so golden?

“Do you want to talk through it? I’m a good listener, and saying it out loud is probably more helpful than just re-reading your notes for the hundredth time.” His brow creases, and he leans back a little further in the chair. The beam of light hits his hair now, making it shine almost orange, “Eh, I suppose it couldn’t hurt, at least until Jayce comes back.” he tilts his head in the direction of Jayce’s desk, “Go get his chair, he won’t mind.”

She does as he says, wheeling the chair over and parking herself beside Viktor, resting her elbows on the desk. He shoots her a look out the corner of his eye, and she quickly removes her elbows. “Sorry.”

“Be careful with the things on my desk, I’d prefer it didn't become more disorganised than it already is.”

“Duly noted.” She replies, instead resting her hands in her lap and rotating her chair to face him a little more directly, “Ready when you are.”

She doesn't understand all that much about his explanation, though there are little moments here and there that resonate with her, or that sound familiar enough that she can grasp the concept. Some parts she recognises from hearing the two of them talking about it behind her, but overall she’s just stunned at his retention and how quickly he elaborates on such complex topics. She leans forward in her chair, watching intently at his sharp gesticulation and the way his brow creases when he struggles to find the right word. She nods along even though she doesn't completely understand because the important thing is to get him thinking about it, whether she understands doesn't matter one bit. 

“-but we’ve already established that it cannot be done that way, so all of that work just needs to be thrown away and-” “Why not?” He stops mid-thought, eyes darting to hers, stunned to hear her speak after so long. He laughs, incredulous, “Why not ? We’ve already tried it and imploded.” She still doesn't quite understand the difference between imploding and exploding, but it's irrelevant, “Did you figure out why?”

“It was too hot. We couldn’t produce enough power inside of the casing without it imploding. We did try reducing the power and adjusting the-” He cuts himself off, suddenly turning back to the desk and resting his chin in his palm. His eyes dart across the various notes and blueprints sprawled there and then after a few agonising moments he lets out a breathless chuckle, “We never tried adjusting the casing for airflow.” She smiles, the feeling of it on her lips aching with an unfamiliar fondness, “There you go.” she stands from the chair and heads back over to her desk, “I suspect you’ll be busy until Jayce gets back, then. So I might head home.” a glance at the clock confirms that the fine art wing will be well closed by now, but she finds herself not minding all that much, “Enjoy your dinner.” At first, she thinks that he isn't going to answer, the room filled with the sound of a desperate pen scraping on paper, but just as she reaches the door, he whirls around in his chair and says, “Thank you, for permitting me to talk at you for almost an hour. It helped.” What are we now? She wonders. 

“I’m glad.” She says.

___

What are we? She can’t help but ask herself, giggling at Jayce’s face when his finger is met with a strong zap from a prototype that Viktor had just told him not to touch. 

She still sits on the other side of the room, still makes her way through a growing pile of assorted textbooks (philosophy, currently, operatic theory last month). But now it’s different. Now Jayce calls her name with an excited wave whenever they make a new development, and Viktor regularly uses her as a springboard when he can’t get his own thoughts straight. Her favorite thing though, is when she and Jayce sit cross-legged on the floor to eat lunch, unwilling to move any of the notes and prototypes strewn across the desks to create space for eating. Viktor is hard to pull from his desk, even at lunch, but with enough prodding from Jayce, he will at least spin his chair around to face the two of them while he eats instead of remaining hunched over his work. 

“Okay! Okay!” Jayce says, instinctively shaking his injured hand as if to dissipate the last of the electricity, “Don’t touch, I get it.”

Viktor huffs, but she can tell he doesn’t really mean it, “All this time and he still doesn’t know how to keep his hands to himself.” his head inclines in her direction, his expression of false irritation shattered by the crooked curl at the corner of his lips, “Can you believe this? Even after my warning.” Another laugh bubbles up and out of her, “Wouldn’t be the first time he’s touched something he shouldn't.” Jayce points an accusatory finger in her direction, “Hey! You know I didn’t realise that pastry was yours, you can’t keep holding this over my head.”

Viktor quips back with something that she doesn't quite hear, and she just laughs before spinning her chair back around and returning to her textbook. The three of them must be friends now, she thinks, peering over her shoulder to see that Jayce and Viktor have returned to working on the prototype. At the very least, they like her well enough to tell her what they are working on, even though that information is still strictly confidential outside of the lab. She has their coffee orders memorised, which must mean something. It's been over six months now and while she doesn't have much to offer scientifically, she likes knowing she's there to bounce ideas off when nothing seems to stick. She smiles to herself, flipping through her newest textbook, but retaining very little of it. The new prototype behind her is loud , it's the sort of sound she could easily tune out if it wasn't constantly stop-starting and fluctuating in pitch. 

From behind her, she hears a sudden panicked stream of consonants leave Viktor’s mouth and then the aching pitch of the prototype’s whirring begins to climb and climb until there’s a loud thunk when Jayce shuts off the power. Though her shoulders tense up beside her ears, she doesn’t feel the need to turn around, “Everyone alive back there?” 

Jayce lets out a breathless, nervous laugh, “Yep!”

She hears the rhythmic click of Viktor’s cane as he crosses the room and then after a moment he says, “Just having trouble getting the new prototype to resonate the way the older one did.” “Hah.” She replies, “Just be careful, another interval up and we will have lost our windows.” Silence for a moment, and then Viktor asks, “ Why? ” She spins around in her chair, the two of them are standing by the prototype, both blinking at her owlishly. Her brow furrows, “The sound.” she says, gesturing in the direction of the machine, “It’s hitting just an interval down from a high C. It’s the resonate frequency of glass, a loud enough noise matching the pitch will-”

“Yes!” Jayce exclaims, beaming wide, “The glass would begin to vibrate and then shatter.” Viktor hooks his cane over his arm and leans backward against the desk, “And this is good news, how?” She stands from her desk, buzzing with excitement, “Your resonance problem. Maybe it isn’t just about the power being produced by the crystal, maybe it’s also about the sound .”

His eyebrows jump, and then settle into a thoughtful crease as he cups his chin with his palm. “If organic magic is cast by humans, it wouldn’t be a far reach to assume that there is also a vocal component.” he hums, “If we could find a way to adjust pitch without reducing power then…” he smiles and his eyes meet hers, “You spend a good deal of time in the music wing, yes?”

She nods, “Tuning forks?”

Viktor’s smile grows wider, “Ah, like you’ve read my mind.”

She isn’t used to walking around the halls of the academy with another person beside her. Though she’s pretty comfortable with Viktor and Jayce inside of the lab these days, they rarely, if ever, spend any time together outside of it. She arrives later than they do in the mornings and leaves earlier than they do in the evenings. These days she also goes out for lunch on her own and brings the food back with her. So she keeps peering over at Viktor to make sure she is matching pace with him, clenching and unclenching her hands at her sides because she doesn’t know what she should be doing with them. 

“You study music, then?” Viktor asks after several minutes of walking in complete silence. 

She startles at his voice, not expecting to hear it, “On and off.” He hums, “You keep busy.” “I usually lose interest if I stay with one subject too long.” She admits, tucking her hands in the pockets of her slacks.

The silence returns, thicker than before. Viktor’s cane clicks on the tiles, the sound at least keeps her in tempo with him, so she doesn’t need to focus as hard on how quickly she’s walking. She takes a quick peek at him and sees that he’s just staring forward. The two of them are passing by a set of windows and his profile looks very sharp when backlit by the afternoon sun. It isn't often that she sees him outside the dim lighting of the lab. His eyes turn to meet hers and she quickly busies herself with picking the already cracked nail polish on one of her fingers. 

“Have we been of interest to you, then?” He says, the corner of his lips turning up in a smile, “Enough that you haven’t lost it?” She hadn’t really thought about it, for the most part, she still considered her time in the lab a requirement from higher-ups at the academy, but was that all it was anymore? She shrugs a shoulder, “For now.” she smirks, “Hard to lose my attention when you continually blow things up.” Viktor tuts, “There hasn’t been a single explosion this past month, besides, it’s all part of the scientific progress, yes?”

“If you say so, I’m not exactly an authority on the subject.” The two of them turn a corner and the angle of the sun changes, Viktor squints a little when the light hits his eyes, he sighs, “To think I was about to say that it’s nice to be out in the sun.” He lifts his free arm to cover his face from the light. 

She laughs, ducking her head to hide her smile, “It’s just upset with you for spurning its advances for so long.”

His brows settle in a scowl, but she can’t help smiling wider when she realises that it doesn’t reach his eyes which instead shine with a playful warmth, “Very funny.”

“I try to be.” She increases her pace a little, turning around to face him. Her backward steps slow at the sight of Viktor awash in the bright light of the afternoon sun, squinting his eyes to keep her in focus. Her continued smile is almost involuntary as she beckons him closer, “C’mon, just down the hall. If we’re quick we can get you some more sun exposure on the way back.”

The older version of the prototype hums on the bench before her, crystal spinning in a consistent whirl. It’s far less refined than their newer attempt, still assembled with whatever pieces they could find around the lab and the metal casing jitters and quakes a little under the strain. She still likes the older prototype better, all its rough edges and shaky frame, it’s a whole lot less commercial than that new chrome casing they’ve been working to perfect, but progress is progress, she supposes. As she lays three of the tuning forks out in front of her, Viktor and Jayce peer down at her expectantly and she isn’t used to feeling intimidated, so she doesn’t like it all that much. 

“I’m pretty good at picking notes by ear.” she begins, “But it’s more uh…mechanical sounding than I’m used to, zippy-” her brow creases, “or zappy? Maybe?” she gestures to the forks, “it’s somewhere within this range though.”

“Go on then!” Jayce says enthusiastically, “Give it a try!” She sucks a breath in through her teeth and grabs the fork that’s tuned to a G4, lightly tapping the prongs on the corner of the bench. The vibrations run up from her fingertips all the way to her elbow and the sound is inconsistent at first, until she raises the fork up vertically and holds her hand still. From behind her, she hears a sharp exhale of breath and then Viktor’s voice much closer than she was expecting. 

“Got it in one.” He says, and she peers over her shoulder to find that he’s leaned in closer to observe. He smiles, “You do have a good ear.”

He’s right, the sound emanating from the fork matches the ethereal pitch coming from the Hextech prototype so exactly that the two sounds begin to merge. She can’t help the smile that tugs at her lips, “Well, I guess the two of you need to figure out how to get your new prototype to hit a G4.” She spins her chair around and passes the tuning fork to Viktor, the sound comes to an abrupt stop when the prongs make contact with his palm, “My work here is done, I’ll be at my desk if you need me.”

She has the weekend off, and the day she comes back Jayce immediately grabs her hand and tugs her over to the other side of the lab with such enthusiasm that she almost topples over. She doesn't even have time to put down her bag. He beams from ear to ear as he positions her in front of the bench the prototype has taken up full-time residence on. Viktor is sitting at the bench, finishing up some last-minute wire connections when she arrives. He spins his chair to face her, and removes his goggles (leaving red rings around his eyes that she resists the urge to tease him about later) before rolling himself out of the way.

“Watch!” Jayce says enthusiastically, stepping towards the device and turning it on. As before, the crystal begins to spin, faster and faster, the casing whining under the pressure as the power builds but fails to resonate. Then from the other end of the desk, Viktor picks up a small remote connected by a set of wires and as he adjusts the knobs, the sound that the crystal creates adjusts in pitch, warbling and quivering until it settles confidently on a perfect clear G4. 

A laugh escapes her, unbidden and she oddly feels like she might start crying. Jayce grabs both her hands and exclaims, “We did it!” “You did it!” She returns excitedly.

“ We did it.” Viktor corrects, and she suddenly realises that we now includes her. 

Friends. She confirms to herself, standing up on her toes so she can wrap her arms around Jayce, she gazes at Viktor from over his shoulder and is pleased to find his eyes look especially warm when he smiles. Friends, she reiterates. 

___

The next six months pass quickly. With the resonance problem fixed, the rest of the research and prototype building seemed to come easily, with only a few notable explosions. Most of the work was still theoretical and Viktor spent hours glowering at the blackboard while Jayce put things together and then pulled them apart. Lots of the original prototypes were cannibalised for parts and she hates to see them go. Jayce was a good sport when the first prototype they ever made had to be put in storage to clear up space, laughing with her as they wrote a terrible farewell poem for it. Viktor did rest a comforting hand on her shoulder as she acted out an exaggerated goodbye to the project because even though the faux waterworks were in jest, it was as if he could somehow tell that her insides ached at the ever-persistent march of change. 

Much of the stress in the lab was around the looming threat of presenting their ideas to the council for more funding, diagrams needed to be drawn and chicken scratch notes needed to be copied into a much more legible format. That was her job for a while, hunching over her desk and transcribing notes, yelling at Jayce over her shoulder for his miserable handwriting and calling Viktor over for translations on what she started affectionately calling ‘Viktor-isms’ 

“You can’t keep giving new concepts names without explaining what they relate to.”

He scoffed, “I think it’s fairly obvious what an AOE Expansion Stabalisor is.”

She looked at him over her shoulder, incredulous, “Will it be obvious to Councilor Hoskel?”

Viktor cringed, “Ehh…allow me to draw up a diagram.”

Her best asset these days is her ability to boil down complicated concepts to their most simple forms. To essentially translate the inner workings of geniuses to something comprehensible by the layman. She has a large bound book that she is compiling all of the most essential notes into and a presentation that she is helping Jayce to draft. 

“Oh, I’ll help you write it, but I’m not speaking.” Jayce huffed, “But Viktor says he doesn’t want to speak either! It’ll just be me up there.” She laughed and gently punched him in the shoulder, “I’m sure you’ll knock ‘em dead, big guy.”

They aren’t just friends anymore. They’re something else. Something closer to family. She spends more time in the lab than she used to, abandoning her textbooks to instead work on the presentation, to sit and listen as Viktor goes on one of his hour-long rambles that slowly starts to become more comprehensible the more she listens to them. She likes listening to them. The smiles on their faces when she first decided to come in on a weekend even though she didn’t have to are still burned into her brain. Jayce’s smile was as bright as it always is, while Viktor’s was subtler, quieter; but to her, it was utterly incandescent and she couldn’t shake it from the corners of her mind for the next few hours. 

“Miss?” A voice says, ripping her from her musings and back into the present.

She blinks a few times, remembering where she is and then replies, “Sorry, Professor Heimerdinger, what did you ask?”

“No worries at all, dear girl.” He says, adjusting himself in his seat, “It’s been over a year now since I first asked you to work in the Hextech lab and I just wanted to make sure the three of you were getting along.”

“We are.” She replies sincerely, “Very well.” Viktor falls asleep in the lab sometimes. One winter afternoon she found him asleep at his desk and couldn’t bear to wake him up, so quickly and quietly, she left the lab and hurried across campus to her dorm room to grab one of her spare blankets. He hadn’t stirred while she was gone, so she took the time to tuck it around his shoulders before returning to her desk. Jayce cames in an hour later and she gestured furiously to Viktor’s sleeping form before he could let out one of his usual, very loud greetings. Holding a finger to his lips, Jayce nodded and they both silently returned to work. The blanket lives in the lab now. 

“That’s good, very good,” Heimerdinger says with a nod. His white eyebrows curve in a sympathetic arch and he leans forward in his chair, “I know that it was a shock to find that your patron had withdrawn their support last year, and while this likely wasn’t what you wanted I hope that it was of some value to you.” He laughs, “Though I do also think those boys need someone keeping an eye on them.”

She laughs, “Even now? They’re making steady progress, I’m not certain they need much monitoring.” “I know from experience that a scientist can so easily become trapped in a box of his own making, but with all your studying and your knowledge across such a wide breadth of subjects, I’m not sure those boys could keep you in a box if they tried.” He smiles softly, “They need that, or they won’t get anywhere.”

“Oh… thank you.” She mutters, pretending to be very interested in whatever is going on outside the window to avoid having to reconcile what sounded like a very genuine compliment. 

“You don’t have to stay in the lab with them if you no longer want to.” Heimerdinger says quietly, “I’m essentially your patron now and I can easily assign you to another department if-” “No!” She says sharply, then shakes her head, “Sorry, that was rude. Um, I mean, no thank you. I’m happy where I am.” Heimerdinger chuckles to himself, “Well then, are you majoring in the sciences after all?” She snorts, “ No , I don’t have the brains for it.”

Two weeks ago she caught a miscalculation in Jayce’s notes, prevented the destruction of yet another prototype. It was just pattern recognition though, she’d become so familiar with the strings of numbers and formulas in their notes that the anomaly practically screamed out to her in bleeding red writing. She was better at understanding what they spoke about now, and able to help with wiring when either of them needed extra hands, but that’s just retention, muscle memory.

Despite her depreciation, Heimerdinger smiles knowingly, “That, I find hard to believe.”

Just a week later she sits next to Viktor in the council room, eyes darting across the expressions of the council members trying to gauge any sort of reaction. She knew they had Councillor Medarda’s vote at the very least, but she’d never even been in the council room before now and had absolutely no way of knowing what direction each of them swayed. 

He must see the look on her face, because, in hushed tones, Viktor starts giving her the limited information he has, “Hoskel will vote the same direction as Medarda” he begins, leaning close to her ear,  “Kiramman has a soft spot for Jayce, Heimerdinger has hopefully swung in our direction but other than that, I have no idea.”

She swallows and turns to look at him, “No, thank you, that helps.” she heaves an uneasy breath in her throat, “I don’t like it in here.” Viktor chuckles, “Me either, but look at Jayce go, there’s a reason he’s the face of this operation.”

It’s true, he’s a natural. While she sits completely tense in the shadows, he gesticulates just enough and speaks at just the right volume. She spent so long helping him to perfect the script for the presentation that she can practically follow it along with him. 

Then it comes time for him to show the new prototype, the final version, the one that sings a perfect G4 and resides in a casing that doesn’t rattle or whine even when the gemstone is generating full power. She’s so nervous that her breath catches in her lungs and doesn’t come back out, from her side she can hear Viktor’s foot tapping a frantic rhythm against the tiles. Without even thinking it through, her hand finds his and grabs it tight. He doesn’t pull back, if anything he holds hers even tighter and they both hold their breath as Jayce activates the prototype. 

A clear and beautiful G4 fills the room, an angelic hum that sounds like magic in and of itself. When all the tensed muscles in her body release, it takes all her willpower not to burst into tears or laughter of utter relief and when she turns to Viktor he looks exactly the way she feels; exhilarated, soft and warm after months of anxiety just melted from him. He smiles and oh god. 

The question becomes more singular, we now refers to two people instead of three and oh god , what are we?

___

What are we? She wonders one year later, frozen in the doorway of her childhood bedroom, holding her breath as if it will prevent him from noticing she’s there. Viktor stands beside her single bed, weight resting on his cane as he leans forward to peek at the old doodles she pinned to the corkboard years ago. He’s smiling. 

Bringing both Jayce and Viktor to her father’s house had not been on the docket earlier in the day, but sometimes fate has its own ideas. The next and hopefully last presentation to the council is coming up tomorrow morning and they have spent the last few months working on a 1:250 scale recreation of the final idea. It took a long time, but it’s finally gotten to the point that they can reliably transport a medium-sized object from one side of the room to the other and if they push the power, they can even manage to move something halfway across campus. 

It was her idea to provide a more accurate visual aid, that if they were planning to push the project as a vessel for trade routes, the council would likely grasp the idea better if the object they were transporting actually looked like a dirigible, instead of the old metal crate they had been using during tests. While Jayce agreed with the idea, it had come pretty late during preparation and he was worried that there wouldn’t been time to get it finished while they also worked together on drafting the presentation. It was Viktor who insisted on building it. 

“I used to assemble these sorts of contraptions for fun .” He’d said, already arranging a collection of metal pieces on his workbench, “Besides, I’m going to be far more useful working on this than I am working on your script.” He peered at her from over his shoulder, “I don’t share your gift for linguistics.” 

So while she and Jayce poured over notes and collected the most legible blueprints they had available, Viktor tinkered at his desk, welding and folding metal. It didn’t take him long at all to finish it, two whole days in the lab with very brief breaks for meals when she or Jayce forced him to eat something and a trip or two to the textile department for the fabric components. She had a great deal of fun inflating the miniature airship and shooting it back and forth through the miniature Hexgate, but the night before the presentation they were overcome with concern at just how long it took for the dirigible to appear on the other side of the room. 

Viktor huffed and pushed his hair out of his face as he stared at it, “It should only take a second for it to make the journey, but now it’s taking four .” He pinched the bridge of his nose, “It must be something to do with the shape? Previously we were using a square object, far less complex.”

So he and Jayce set to adjusting the prototype while she made a few last-minute changes to Jayce’s speech. The problem came when they tested the Hexgate one last time, they had overcorrected and the dirigible emerged on the other side of the room at a greater forward velocity than they had been expecting and collided directly with a pile of discarded scrap metal. Her head shot up from her desk just in time to watch as it started falling to the ground, kicking her chair out from behind her and diving for the airship, letting out a grunt as the heavy object landed in her arms. 

Luckily she had been quick enough on her feet to prevent any structural damage, but the collision had torn a hole in the fabric and unless they managed to get that fixed before the sun came up, it wasn’t going to fly during the presentation. 

“It’s okay!” She said quickly, the moment she caught the look of quiet horror on the inventors’ faces, “The textile wing will be closed, but I have a sewing machine.” “In your dorm?” Jayce asked, expression quickly losing the air of misery it had just a moment ago. 

She grimaced, “No. not in my dorm and you’ll both have to come, I can’t carry this thing on my own and I probably need to disconnect the fabric so I can put it through the machine.”

Presently, her hand grips tightly to the open doorway, still holding her breath as she watches Viktor rest his cane against the bedside table and take a seat on her childhood bed, leaning down quickly to rub at the muscles in his bad leg. When his eyes dart up and he sees her, he freezes, “Oh, hello.” he clears his throat, “I got lost.” She snorts, “How could you get lost in a two-bedroom house?” she leans against the doorframe, unable to stop her smile, “You’re a terrible liar.” “I wasn’t lying.” “If you say so.” She replies, looking down at her toes just to avoid the broiling gold of his eyes, “I’ve got the machine set up on the kitchen table, so if you’re done snooping -” “I wasn’t snooping .” He interrupts. 

She crosses her arms, finding that she likes the incredulous expression he’s making, almost as much as she likes seeing the sharp lines of him juxtaposed with her soft floral bedsheets, “Then what were you doing?”

He sits up straight, loosely gesturing to her corkboard, “Admiring your work.” His expression settles into a soft smile, “Were you looking to study textiles when you joined the academy?” It’s been a long time since she’s been in this room. She visits when she gets the chance, but always heads back to her dorm instead of staying the night. The corkboard is covered with old clothing designs, swatches of fabric, and a button here and there. She shakes her head, “No, not really. It’s uh, it’s the family business. I haven’t thought about it all that much since taking up studying.”

“You said that your father wouldn't be here.” She nods, “He’s at the workshop, tomorrow is the busiest day of the week. He usually stays there the night before so he can get a head start in the morning.” a sigh escapes her, “My mother used to force him to come home every night, but, well…” Viktor doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t need to. 

“My patron was one of my father’s customers. He offered to do his alterations free so long as he took care of my patronage at the academy.” She chews on her lower lip, not really sure why she is telling him all of this, “I think he expected to make some money from me, that I was some sort of genius, but I was indecisive and refused to major in anything, so he withdrew support.” Viktor laughs, “Bad luck for him then.” he says, wincing a little as he pulls himself back up from the bed, “You’re one-third of Hextech now.” She hums aloud as he crosses the room, shifting in the doorway to give him space to slip past. “Yeah,” she replies and the hand not on his cane rests briefly on her upper arm as he passes, lingering maybe a little longer than it needed to, “I guess I am.”

Her body goes slack against the doorframe, her chest expanding with a warm sigh as she watches him turn the corner to the kitchen, clearly not lost. Their relationship hasn’t changed all that much in the past year, they joke around a lot more and physical contact is more common, though it’s little more than a hand on a shoulder or the usual tight handholding at any and all presentations they give to the council. They’re friends, she reasons and whatever in her heart is telling her that it’s something else is just causing problems, an unnecessary ache. She sighs again, peering into her bedroom and imagining him still sitting there, smiling at her. It’s only when Jayce calls her name that she manages to recollect herself, calling out a quick, “I’m coming!” before they start wondering why she’s lagging behind.

___

Has something changed? She wonders. Even with the tall ceilings and open windows, the ballroom she’s trapped in feels suffocating. She sucks a shaky breath in through her teeth and continues clutching the stem of a champagne glass she’s been holding for over an hour now without actually drinking it. Jayce is planning to give an address shortly, about the success of the recently completed Hexgates, but he rightly refuses to start until Viktor arrives and it’s been long enough that she’s starting to worry he may have decided not to come altogether. 

The last two and a half years were the most difficult for the three of them. A project of such an enormous scale takes up a lot of time and a great deal more hands than the team alone could provide. Viktor quickly learned that he hated working with other people, and most nights at the lab were spent making changes to blueprints, running tests and complaining about the construction team. 

“I swear-” Viktor began one day, furiously scribbling notes on a blueprint, “-I wouldn’t be surprised to find that one of those people ate all of our crystals just because I didn’t specially label them inedible .” She’d laughed, sitting at the desk next to him and updating the construction resources with less technical language, “Be nice. If I hadn’t been eavesdropping on you for three years I probably wouldn’t know what any of this stuff means either.” Viktor sighed, “You’ve done much more than eavesdrop .” his pen stilled for a moment and his golden eyes met hers, “I can be nice, I promise.” Without thinking, she’d let her head drop to rest on his shoulder, “I know you can.” He made no move to shift her off of him, even though the weight of her head was surely going to affect the use of his dominant hand. After a lapse of comfortable silence, he let out a chuckle and inclined his head in her direction, “That cannot be comfortable.” “It’s not.” She admitted, “Your shoulder’s pointy.” “and yet you are not moving.” “That’s right.” 

“Suit yourself.” He replied, his voice barely a whisper. Before quietly returning to his writing.

Jayce grabs her attention from across the room, gesticulating wildly. She knows him well enough to immediately recognise that he is asking if she has any idea where Viktor is. All she can respond with is a concerned shrug before pointing to the nearest door, implying that she will go look for him. Jayce smiles in thanks and then returns to the gaggle of investors surrounding him. The champagne finally gets drunk, it probably would have been nicer an hour ago when it was still cold, but she needs two hands to maneuver her dress. The glass clinks when she leaves it on the nearest flat surface and starts heading to the doors, half considering never coming back, whether she finds Viktor or not. 

Not that she ever makes it through the door, because she almost bumps headlong into him as he makes his way inside. 

“Viktor!” She exclaims, half shocked and half relieved to see him. 

His mouth twitches up in a smile, “Sorry I’m late, outfit problems.” Her eyes dart down involuntarily. His suit is mossy green and the colour brings out the gold in his eyes. He looks good and she is about to say so when she notices the rudimentary steel and leather brace on his leg. Her chest cavity fills with the ice-cold chill of dread and Viktor must see it on her face because he quickly supplies an explanation. 

“Never many chairs at these things.” he says, gesturing to the brace, “A precautionary measure.”

She wants to believe him, wants so badly to believe him. The calculations all match up in her head though, him an hour late, the brace clearly made and not purchased. Four and a half years is a long time to watch someone, especially when watching as intently as she has been for at least the last two. He places more weight on his cane than he used to, and struggles to do anything that involves both hands while standing up. Even from across the lab, she can hear the way he hisses each time he has to rise from his chair and when the setting sun streams in through the window the same way it did that first month in the lab, the shadows settle deep in the hollow of his cheeks. 

“Good idea.” She forces herself to say, ignoring all of the evidence because any other explanation would be preferable. Instead, she returns to what she had intended to say from the beginning, a truth far less daunting, “You look very nice, by the way. Can’t even tell you had outfit problems.” He laughs, though it sounds a little too much like a wheeze, “You’re too kind. Anyway, let’s go find Jayce before he starts worrying.” They’ve already missed the boat on that one, Jayce is in the midst of a nervous sweat when they make their way over. His eyes also dart down to the brace on Viktor’s leg, but she watches in real-time as he dismisses the thought, gives the both of them a quick hug and shakes the nerves off before his address. 

“I’m surprised you survived so long without me,” Viktor says cheekily as Jayce heads over to grab Councillor Medarda’s attention. 

“So am I.” She replies, peering up at him with a smile, “You know I hate these big events.” Viktor returns her smile and his face melts into such a warmth that all the signs of deterioration seem imaginary for just a moment. Somewhere across the room, Councillor Medarda clinks her glass to grab the attention of the room, but right before Jayce begins his address, Viktor leans down to her ear and whispers, “You look very nice too, sorry I didn’t say so earlier.”

The feeling of those words resonates so warmly in her chest that she can’t resist holding onto them and just as Jayce steps forward, just as the usual nerves begin to set in, Viktor’s hand reaches out and grabs hers tight. The way it always does. She smiles softly to herself and rubs her thumb across the protrusion of his knuckles in thanks. Maybe nothing has changed, not really, she might just be imagining it. Even if the bones in his fingers feel more pronounced. 

Applause fills the room when Jayce finishes, at one point he even has the good grace to point out where she and Viktor are standing in the crowd, which she hates , but knows she should appreciate. He’s his usual ball of sunshine self when he comes over, beaming wide and wrapping his arms around the two of them. 

“That went great !” He exclaims, hands still shaking with the usual adrenaline associated with speech giving, “I can’t believe that we’re closing the chapter on Hexgates, whoo!” Viktor chuckles and pats Jayce on the arm, “It’s still early days yet, lots of time for things to go wrong and lots of modification on the horizon.” “I know, I know . It still feels good though, doesn’t it? To have finished something?”

She laughs, “This is probably the first thing I’ve ever finished in my life, so thank you.” her eyes drift to Viktor and then quickly back to Jayce, “Both of you.”

“To finishing things!” Jayce exclaims suddenly, and follows up with, “Wait, we need drinks, one second!” “A veritable font of energy as always,” Viktor says a few seconds after Jayce disappears.

“Pretty sure he’s already had a few drinks.” Viktor looks at her cheekily, “For the nerves, I’m sure.”

“Oh yeah, definitely just for the nerves.” She replies, watching as Jayce gets caught by another throng of investors on his way over to the bar. She sighs, “Poor guy, I’m glad I don't have his charisma.” Viktor hums aloud, “Do you think he’ll know to check the balcony when he comes back?”

“It’s only the place we always frequent at these events.” His eyes light up, “That’s a yes, then?”

“Always will be.” She replies, trying not to get lost in the way his eyes crinkle in the corners. She clears her throat, “Let’s hurry, it’s too hot in here.”

It’s like a shock of electricity when his free hand presses against the small of her back and when she peers up at him to find he is already looking down at her, the question rises once again, unbidden. What are we?

[wings-of-ink]

How about a little something extra for your reading pleasure?

Below is the little story (around 3800 words) I posted about doing here. It's a fictionalized retelling of how we found our little Shadow cat. It's not terribly dramatic or anything, but it's a bit cute, especially for those of you who are a fan of Nathanael in the story. You get to see a little more of him at a different stage of his life. ^_^

~~~

Nathan stretched, looking up at the clear sky. It was bright, big, and beautiful, as always. Puffy clouds were rolling by, occasionally blotting out the sun, but only for a moment.

"It's gonna rain tonight," a voice said behind him.

Nathan turned, spotting his friend, Andrina, as she approached carrying a crate. "You think?" he asked, turning his face back to the sky. "Doesn't look that way to me."

"Here, you oaf, take this – it's heavy," she chided, thrusting the crate into his hands. "That's the last one."

"Thank you, dear," he said, lugging it onto the back of the wagon with the others.

"I'm tellin' you, cover that shit with a tarp unless you want all your merchandise soaked." Andrina heaved herself up on the side of the wagon, light ginger hair flopping over her face, concealing her bright blue eyes. "You have one right? I'm not helping you dry all this shit when we get home."

"Yes, Mother, I'll get right on it." Nathan laughed.

"If you weren't so bad at takin' care of yourself, I wouldn't have to mother you!"

Nathan rolled his eyes as he began to unfasten the tarp from the other side of the wagon. He sighed. He really needed to get something with a roof. Not that selling out of the back of the wagon was difficult, but it was becoming a hassle this way. He paused for a moment as he fiddled with the ties binding the tarp together. That feeling was settling in again. Something felt like it was missing. He was anxious, restless, feeling like he'd long forgotten something. He had hoped this feeling would leave him for good, it seemed as though he was wrong.

How long had he lived here again? Four or five years now? He liked living with Andrina and Erik, they'd become wonderful friends and he didn't want to leave them just yet or maybe ever. It had been long since he had such good friends. Settling anywhere for long always left him with these odd feelings. He hated it and wished he could just settle somewhere like most people did. But, if he wanted to try to live a somewhat normal existence, this was the way it needed to be. Maybe one day he would figure out a way to live that didn't make his skin itch with dissatisfaction. Maybe he would figure out why it was this way for him. Someday.

"Nathan?" a soft voice asked.

"Hm?" His attention snapped to the figure standing next to him. Erik – dark brown eyes peeked through his messy black hair with a look of concern.

"You did that thing again. Are you sure you don't need to see a healer about that? Andrina said your name but it was like you couldn't hear." Erik's thin bony hand gently touched his shoulder.

"I'm sorry, I was just lost in thought. I promise I am well, my mind has just been loud lately."

Andrina reached across from her perch on the wall of the wagon. "Hand over the tarp, cloud-dreamer, and let's get on the road."

Nathan nodded, unrolling the tarp and giving the end of it to his friend as they all worked to secure it. Before long, they were on the road again and heading home. Andrina sat on the back of the wagon smoking her pipe as Erik sat at the front with Nathan while the horses walked the familiar path, not needing any guidance.

Erik nudged Nathan's shoulder. "I think I might know what's going on with you," his quiet voice said.

"Yeah?" Nathan raised an eyebrow. It was unlike Erik to speak up in such a way so casually.

"Yes, you should grow the beard." Erik smiled, trying to stifle a laugh.

Nathan snorted, raising a hand to feel along his chin. He'd kept it smooth for as long as he could remember. "Do you think I'd look good with one? Would it age me?"

Erik shrugged. "I think it would give you an attractive flair. Maybe make you look smarter."

"Ha!" Andrina laughed. "No, it'd make you look like one of those scammy so-called magicians that swindle kids for pocket money!"

Nathan pouted and Erik chuckled but notably did not disagree.

Erik went quiet again before taking a deep breath. "I think you're a little lonely."

Nathan almost laughed. "What? How could I be with you and Mother Hen always around?"

"There's different types of loneliness you know. There's a type for romance, for friends, for family – for silence…you just need to figure out which one tugs at your own heart. We've known you long enough to see the signs, even if you ignore them."

The conversation stopped there, giving Nathan a great deal to think about. Erik had a way of doing that to him. He was such a mild person but had a way of sneaking deep truths in without warning. And Andrina's uncharacteristic silence spoke volumes about her agreement.

Was it really that simple? Was he just missing out on something? But what could it be? He lived comfortably enough, had friends old and new all around, and his business was flourishing…what was missing?

"Hey!" Andrina called. "That little shop at the edge of town was opening today. We should eat there when we get home."

The men agreed and the rest of the way was filled with amiable silence and pipe smoke.

~~~

Andrina had been right.

It started raining halfway home. The bright sky slipped to grey as clouds blotted out the sun and a steady trickle began to fall. A cold chill clung to the wind from the north as well. When they arrived at the eatery, which appeared to be little more than a large shed with a stone oven in the center, they found a table without issue. It was late enough in the day, the rush of patrons clamoring for dinner had already gone. The warmth of the place was very welcome after their journey.

A clearly exhausted employee slapped three tankards on the table. "Welcome to Pista's Hut. We have ale. You get ale," they said, voice flat.

The three friends nodded, not about to argue.

"You're late for dinner, the cook will throw what we have left in the oven and that will be that. It'll be out in a bit." They walked away without another word.

Andrina chuckled. "Well, you two can never decide anyway, so this works in our favor. Ale's good at least."

Erik shrugged and picked up his tankard. "I'll eat anything."

Nathan sipped his drink, his thoughts still stuck on what Erik had told him earlier. The ale was good…

A while later, the server returned holding a metal tray and slapped it in the middle of the table. "Okay, we only had some dough, tomatoes, and a bit of cheese. The cook whipped this up for you. Smells good at least, and it's the best we got." They dropped a heavy cleaver on the table, making everything on it rattle. "Here's a knife to cut it. I'll bring more ale," they said before turning heel and walking away.

The three friends stared at their meal. What appeared to be a giant bit of flat bread was stretched wide on the tray, smeared with crushed tomatoes, bits of cheese melted on top. The bread was toasty in places and the top of the construction steamed, wafting a tasty fragrance into the air.

Andrina grabbed the cleaver, which Nathan quickly took from her. "Not after what happened last time, Andi."

She flopped back dramatically into her chair, cheeks puffing out. Erik covered his mouth as he tried not to giggle.

Nathan studied the food and began to cut the best way he could figure out. It was shaped like a pie or cake, so he split it into triangles. They each took a slice and began to eat silently.

After a few bites, they all looked at each other in silence, each waiting for the other to speak.

Erik began, "Is it just me or is this damn delicious?"

Nathan concurred, "It is absolutely delectable."

Andrina stuffed her slice into her mouth, working it around as it burnt her tongue.

The three devoured the construct, save for one small piece. When the server came to collect their dishes, they took the last bit, uncaring if strangers had touched it, and began to eat. The morsel seemed to cheer them up at least.

Thunder rolled outside as the friends finished their drinks. Home wasn't far at least, though they'd probably be soaked through by the time they reached it and put the horses and wagon away.

They piled outside after a time, huddled under cloaks as the rain continued. Nathan checked the cargo for tampering and the horses, slipping them a few sugar cubes for their wait, making promises of comfort to come.

He was about to load up when he heard a small clamor, like things falling, drawing his attention to an alley beside the eatery. It was dark, nothing but bins of waste scattered around.

"What is it?" Andrina asked.

Nathan shrugged. "Just thought I heard something."

He moved to the driver's seat of the wagon and was about to get seated when he heard something else.

Mew. Mew.

He stopped and looked again, still not seeing anything.

Erik leaned over. "Is that an animal? Look there by the bins."

Nathan couldn't see anything, so he went down the alley, walking slowly and listening.

Mew.

Mew…

Little squeaky sounds came from under a large bin. They ceased when Nathan reached it. He squatted low and peered under it, trying not to gag from the smell.

A little soggy ball of fur stared back at him with scared green eyes.

Nathan began to reach for it but stilled a moment. "Are you a rat? Are you going to bite me?"

Mew. 

"No, you must be a cat…I think…" He scooped up the tiny thing.

Nathan brought the creature over to an awning with a lantern hanging so he could see. It was a tiny kitten cold and wet, no bigger than his palm. It mewed in distress but didn't try to get away from him.

"My, my you aren't very old. Is your momma around?" Nathan looked back down the alley.

"What is it?" Erik called from the wagon.

"A kitten!" Nathan answered. "I'll be a moment, I'm going to look for its mother!"

Andrina groaned dramatically and then laughed as Erik chided her.

Nathan held the kitten close to his heart to share his warmth as he slowly plodded down the alley, calling in a sweet voice for any critters. After peeking around to the back of the building and spotting nothing, Nathan headed back, finding that the disenchanted server from earlier was taking a crate into the alley.

"Excuse me, dear, have you seen a mother cat around here?" Nathan held the kitten up for reference. "This one appears to have gotten lost."

They shook their head. "Nah, that one has been out here all day. Saw it this morning. If the momma didn't fetch it by now, she's not coming back."

Nathan's heart sank. "All day? It's been raining…"

"Just leave it where you found it, nature will take its course."

"No!" Nathan suddenly spat. He held the little creature closer and then cleared his throat. "No…Sorry, I'll just take it then."

"Fine by me."

Nathan hustled down the alley back to his friends and hopped up into the wagon. Passing the reins to Erik, everyone stared at the little furball who had gone quiet.

"We have a cat now?" Andrina asked.

Nathan sighed. "We…have a cat now. For now, I suppose. I'll figure it out."

The little creature snuggled closely to Nathan's chest the whole way home. It didn't make another sound, happier now that it was warm and blocked from the rain. There was a pull at Nathan's heart, a clear sadness a the sight of the defenseless kitten.

Once home, they guided the horses and cart into the barn and Nathan left his friends in charge of the horses. This kitten was little and too young for solid food. They didn't have much to offer it, but if there was one creature who could help it was Jaala – the goat who hated him.

Erik seemed to be the only one whom the goat respected enough to milk her, but Nathan had some extra sugar to offer in exchange for a bit of milk to help the kitten. He found a crate, filled it with straw, and settled the kitten inside who began to mew as soon as the comfort of being held faded.

"Just a moment little one, I need to make sure I can feed you."

Grabbing the milk pale, he checked to make sure it was clean before facing Jaala. She glared at him immediately, snorting in displeasure and standing defensively in front of her sleeping kid.

"Sorry girl, just me tonight," Nathan said as he searched his pockets for sugar. "Here, to sweeten the deal." He held out a cube to the goat who glared as she plucked it from his hands, biting his fingers in the process. Nathan tamped down his reaction.

He placed the bucket down as the goat barely tolerated his presence. "I need just a little bit of milk. Do you hear the kitty? Just like your little one, he needs something to eat." Nathan offered another sugar cube which the goat snatched right away.

As she chewed, he positioned the bucket and knelt beside her, quick to offer another sweet to keep her agreeable as he began to milk her. He rationed the last two cubes to get enough for a good meal for the kitten, quickly packing up and giving the goat her space when he was done.

The cat continued to mew from the safety of its little nest. Nathan sat in the straw and plucked the furball up again, bringing it to his chest. Pulling a handkerchief from the inner pocket of his robe, he soaked a bit of it in the milk and brought it to the little kitten's mouth. It latched on right away, suckling hungrily at the cloth until it was practically dry. Nathan dipped it again and repeated the process until the little one had drank all there was. And with a full belly, it fell asleep in his hands.

Nathan took the crate and the kitten inside with him where his friends had started a good fire. He changed his clothes and put on something dry, keeping an eye on the little one. All of them sat around the fireplace, sprawled on the couches and rugs there.

"Sucker," Andrina chided with a smile.

Nathan sighed. "I couldn't leave the poor thing to die."

Erik's dog, a massive black and white hound, sniffed around the crate, wagging his tail happily before getting up on Erik's lap. "Reminds me of when we found you," Erik said, patting his dog's head.

Nathan wrinkled his nose. "Yes, yes, I'm akin to a half-drowned cat with no teeth."

Andrina began packing her pipe. "You gonna keep the thing?"

He shook his head. "No, I'll just make sure it doesn't suffer and I'm sure one of the shops or farms could use a mouser."

Erik and Andrina looked at each other and smiled. They knew better.

As the days went by, most of Nathan's attention was on the little kitten. Once it was all dried and cleaned up, fed and happy, it still didn't shut up – unless Nathan held it. He kept it close, swaddled around his chest in a sling since its little cries made him feel…odd. Many of the townspeople stared when they realized a small kitten was tucked close to his chest, but Nathan didn't mind. He was already the oddball in town as it was, he would be stared at and whispered about anyway, this just gave them something to actually chatter about.

He talked to the little cat most of the day, asking its opinion on prices and what goods would sell the best in the coming season. The little creature didn't have much to offer but helped Nathan think by just listening.

Jaala the goat even became a bit friendlier, she almost didn't bite. But thanks to her generosity, the little kitten grew quickly. It filled the little sling and was able to reach out far enough to tap Nathan on the chin with little claws. Once the little one was big enough, Nathan could tell it was a male, and quickly dubbed him, "Cat," and sometimes, "sweet boy" when no one was watching.

As more time passed and the cat outgrew his little sling, he instead rode upon Nathan's shoulders instead. The merchant was not short of offers to take the cat who was growing to be quite a handsome sight – completely grey from nose to tail with bright green eyes. He had a dignified appearance – a dignity which ended strictly at his looks, Nathan observed. He was rather inelegant for a cat, his timing for everything could not be worse and he had nearly killed Nathan no fewer than 15 times on the stairs. But the little thing had no fear of dogs, or any other creature large or small. Nathan knew better by now that it wasn't bravery – he was just too dumb to know better. Nathan turned all of the offers that he received down, of course, saying that the cat had a bit more growing to do…

A whole season came and went before folks stopped asking. Everyone but Nathan knew the little stray had already found a permanent home.

As he sat lost in thought in the barn, staring at his wagon, a little paw came up to pat his chin. Luckily, the scruffy beard there protected it from the wicked claws.

"What do you want, Cat?" he asked, absently bringing his hand to the cat's head and scratching. "Oh…guess I answered my own question." He laughed. "You have trained me well."

The cat reached up and rubbed his head against Nathan's new beard, enjoying the scratchiness against his fur. The rumble of purrs became loud.

Nathan smiled. "You really are my sweet boy, aren't you. What do you think we ought to do, hm?" He glanced at the wagon, the goods stored there were dwindling. The thought of traveling to refill his stock was a bit exciting, even if he didn't need to go very far. "I want to take you with me, but I worry…"

Moow?

"No, we tried the leash, you rolled around like it was a snake trying to eat you."

Mrrrr.

"You did too."

The cat huffed.

"And Andi says I'm the dramatic one…"

Meoooow.

"I do trust you, I just worry you'll wander off and get lost. You may look elegant, but you're not the brightest. And what if someone tries to steal you away?"

The cat turned fierce eyes on Nathan and stared.

"You are so strange."

"Says the man talking to a cat," Erik's voice responded, making Nathan startle.

"Blessed stars, you scared the shit out of me!"

Erik chuckled as he approached, sitting across from Nathan and his cat in the straw. "Well, I'm not sorry…I came to check on you."

"Check on me?" Nathan scratched down the cat's back, bringing back his purring.

"Mm-hmm, you're doing that thing again."

"Yes?"

"It's a little different this time. You're not completely despondent." Erik laughed. "It's been nice. You've seemed happier now that you have a pet."

Nathan shook his head. "I don't have a pet…I…" He stared down at the purring mess in his lap which was currently working its claws into Nathan's fine robe.

"No, no, you're right. You don't have a pet…You are the pet. That little grey thing has you completely wrapped around his paw. You wore him around in a sling meant for children for crying out loud."

"He was cold…" Nathan bit down on a smile.

Erik snorted a laugh. "You're sweet you know. And I want to say something as a friend. Something me and Andi have been talking about for a while now."

"Go on, don't hold back."

"We all have secrets. We all have private things that we desire – hopes and even dreams that we aren't always aware of…. In a strange way, I think you've found one of those things you've needed. You still try to deny it – you haven't even named the poor thing, and we all know that cat isn't going anywhere."

Nathan nodded.

Erik continued. "You're restless. I know you are. I don't know everything about you, but we've been friends for years now and I think you're trying to hide just how restless you are even from yourself."

The truth stung.

"I wanted to tell you that it's okay. Some people aren't meant to settle at all and others are only meant to settle once they've found what they need. Me and Andi aren't going anywhere, you know that. One day we may even go our separate ways, maybe partner up with a lover or something, but we won't wander far from here."

Nathan nodded.

"Figure out what works for you. You now have a little someone that will go with you now. You can always come home."

"Should I call you 'poppa' now? That was a lot of wisdom considering how much younger than me you are." Nathan laughed.

Erik lightly kicked him in the foot. "I don't know where it came from…I actually came out here to warn you."

"About what?"

"Your little bundle of joy took a huge shit in Andi's bed and she is furious."

"Again?"

Erik nodded.

Nathan tried to hide his grin. "Guess I'm on laundry duty today then…I'll get to it in a moment."

Erik stood, clasping Nathan's hand in his own for a moment before leaving him in peace.

The little cat reached up again, purring and rubbing against his beard. Nathan wrapped his arms around the little furball and lightly hugged.

"How do you do it?" he asked as if the cat could answer. "Are you a magic cat? Hm? You can tell me, just whisper your truth to me." Nathan turned his ear to the cat who only nibbled at it in response. "I don't think I've ever had a pet before…"

MOOW.

"Sorry, I don't think I have ever been a pet before." He sighed. "Fuck sake, Erik is right. I am horribly smitten, aren't I? And you do need a proper name…"

Nathan stared at the cat's expanse of grey fur. He recalled how whenever the cat chose to hide he was impossible to find. The only way to spot him in the darkness was to catch the glimmer from his eyes.

Nathan picked up his sweet boy, staring into his eyes. "You're impossible to spot in the dark, you are so completely grey that even your toes match, and you are always following me…you are always…in my shadow."

Meow.

"Shadow."

Mrp?

Nathan smiled. "My little Shadow."

[flowerr44444]

http://www.leg.state.fl.us/statutes/index.cfm?App_mode=Display_Statute&URL=0800-0899/0847/0847.html

Here are your definitions :)

The book you mention "Heather has two mommies" falls under those definitons on account of this fascinating image i attached below

I highlighted the part that's i suspect confusing to the lawmakers.

Its pretty fucking weird i gotta say. Bcs i cant make heads nor tails on where the hell is that guy kissing the child. /s

Like the headtilt is borderline odd./s

I can't figure out where is the nose of that kid pointed. At which point i arrive to conclusion this is some odd lip kiss. Which is criminal like legally.

The thing is the intent doesn't matter but the final effect does. So.

(Anyway checked again about why the thing got relocated to higher grades and it wasnt actually this image part (??!) but im still confused as to wtf is it allowed, the mommies are great but wat the hail is this page fr, i get it may be supposed to be a head kiss but it just doesnt look like one at all)

The second book you mention was banned on different legal grounds disconnected from ISP branch as stated here

The two things are as far apart as they can get.

Context clue 4 u -> the law doesnt prohibit talks about "stranger danger" or bans introduction to the lgbt shit at 4th and further grades so the book should be very much accesible at that point. (Probs even a famous interschool read, afterall it was a hot topic)

And its not like the same law makes it illegal by homosexual couples to educate their children how they wish to. Most kids dont notice conciously that someone having "two mommies" or "two daddies" is a weird thing till, as they stated, above ig 10 y/o so the law doesnt affect much outside "political principals". So effectivly its just a rule about "dont talk about sex and dating" but you can "teach about reproduction as science" before 10 y/o is achieved.

I think it's a pretty good safeguard overall since most adoptees or bio kids from lgbt couples get normal info from direct source they can talk about between themselves and there is no 3rd party fearmongering about evil gays or enabling grooming attepts via lies on how homosexuals function. (Thats def a common trumpist fear, not that they know much as most population is heterosexual and as such doesnt seek out info, except regretably via explicit material which is most common to come across but lately she-ra, owl house and arcane seem to be changing things)

I would suppose gay penguins weren't into teaching reproduction so they got banned on those grounds (kinda hilarious to me but as a 9 yo i would probs get offended later on behalf of bad lgbt rep and lesbophobia since the penguins are most often in BL situationships which would lead a child to think that perhaps lesbians don't exist irl)

Tbh i can understand worries concerned with left wing educators bcs holy shit certain usa pride marches are straight up degenrate in comparsion to european ones

(i just wish they banned priests too :( )

(Anyway if bible was to be analised under gender id and obscenity laws scope then i bet we could ban it :D )

Additionaly, you can access 4chan bcs its servers are not in your states territory physicly probably, therefore do not fall under the porn ban which is regional law and not federal law

The state cannot forbid you access to "foreign press" lets say, under democracy that is

I don't take anything that doritoassrapist says seriously. He can suck dongs all day long with those speeches idc what he says. That is but one scrote, i would rather monitor gatherings of them - the current porn ban has not affected anyone outside the sex industry since becoming a real thing. The law itself cannot be misunderstood in legalise so it cant touch other laws unless the phrasing will be changed in it to allow for that. At which point the effects should be reported in the news. Nothing like that happend so no worries about it.

I would say to be concerned more about changing definitions in obscenity laws

Tumblr is not a website with adult content officialy. The rules are against it but they cannot censor literally everything bcs of artistic rights. The porn ban is in effect but there is no ban to advertise porn or real life abuse per say which is The Problem

Tbf if they forbid ads with the stuff or made a comprehensive mandatory education on school levels on recognising abuse we wouldnt be having as many problems as now with grooming on tumblr dot com

VPNs actually sell the info they gather so its a real 50/50 here

I belive what they write down with proof and when i see how it works. I'm gnostic atheist. Gender self ID is the same to me as christianity. I hate both sides equally well, no need to get prissy. (Yes I belive gender dysphoria is a thing (as in genitals and second sex characteriscs like beards owned being hm odd to someone for 10 years straight after puberty). Yes trans people exist to me but definitly not in the "non binary" box with other "two spirits", the same way i don't belive in female or male souls. Or souls as a general concept. Or being trans bcs of gender roles and patriarchy fetish (disturbing crowd which you probs already encountered here))

And so far the only people concerned about how the system works are not much from left or right since they all base it on non empirical beliefs today.

The left looks like this to me:

https://www.dailymail.co.uk/video/news/video-3293649/Video-Trans-activist-climbs-chair-flashes-bottom-twerks.html

The right looks like this to me:

https://www.google.com/amp/s/amp.theguardian.com/us-news/2022/dec/07/arizona-polygamous-cult-leader-child-abuse-samuel-bateman

Its like a populism bingo lately :/

Anyhow, i belive the porn ban laws accomplish the purpose given to them based on my own conclusions. It will just take getting the ban set up globally for it to take real effects in fighting the trafficking behemoth. Which will take next 100 years...

(in my country the porn ban is actually a left wing lgbt representant idea so i have a bit different angle here ig)

:

"they weren't trying to keep kids off the site, they were trying to verify everyone's ages"

porn makes you stupid

[rootspiral]

Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 9 part 4

(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][+1] ep5 [1][2][3][4][5] ep6 [1][2][3] ep7 [1][2][3][4][5][6] ep8 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9] ep9 [1][2][3][4])

it's still agatha and her river

mama, I'm sorry I got upset. mama I'm sorry we're both starving tonight. I promise I'll do better tomorrow.

a six year old taking responsibility and apologizing for his mother's shortcomings.

agatha looks down at her precious little boy's pleading face

and she smiles at him, and nicky gives her a big relieved grin.

evanora is not stealing this moment. she did her worst to fuck with agatha's brain chemistry, but in one fundamental thing she failed: agatha is capable of loving her kid. despite all her other shortcomings, she will never blame nicky for her own faults.

she does a cute little dance for him, and this is what they do, isn't it? he's too small to explain his big feelings and she is too scared, and so they sing to each other and hope the love is understood anyway.

see how he touches the brooch? if only she could have loved nicky in vacuum, without any of the emotional baggage. but he is only the last link in a long chain of witches, pain and and tears and blood that made him what he is. agatha cannot escape her identity and legacy no matter how much she tries, and she couldn't protect nicky from it either.

the last time she sees nicky alive he's smiling adoringly at her. this is the boy she can't face in the afterlife, because her own guilt is so strong she's convinced he will hate her.

nicky dies peacefully in his mother's arms. his soul wakes up and sees rio waiting for him.

that some good cinema dear lord

rio waves at nicky. he doesn't know her (when who will return?) but he still trusts her implicity - she's been around him his whole short life, in the woods, in the water, in his lungs.

and - the bit that destroyed us all - she makes nicky go to agatha one last time. go kiss your mama goodbye.

light and dark, growth and decay, here and beyond.

remember when alice died and the camera turned upside down? ot stops halfway here. agatha has been affected so profoundly by nicky's death that she can never let herself go back to the land of the living, but she's also too scared to follow rio to the other side. she's stuck in the middle, consumed by the impossible dream of bringing nicky back, never allowing herself to find peace and companionship again. in love with death, but running away from it.

(people never seem to make crack and humor vids for episode 9, isn't that curious? when it's soooo fun and lighthearted!)

well ain't that just brutal

I have always known

This Road is cruel and wild

I bury my own heart

Here with you, my child

(I think those are lavender flowers? I'm not 100% sure)

coolcoolcoolcoolcool. that's fine. I'm absolutely fine.

BARRIERS UP right away. even if she looks like a mess. especially because she looks like a mess. she's not showing weakness in front of anyone, she's protecting her grief like a jealous goblin, and since she cannot run, she straightens her dress and gets ready to fight. the option to ask for help and comfort doesn't even cross her mind.

her eyes still full of tears / agatha gets another wonderful, awful idea.

we've seen this so many times, haven't we? the real agatha disappears behind the character she plays. the agatha we've seen from the very start, since the moment she walked into wanda's living room, has been a lie. very few people have ever seen a hint of the poor bruised heart she hides inside, and only to rio and (to some extent) nicky she has ever opened up.

how can someone go from total heartbreak to planning murder in the span of two minutes? well, you can if you are agatha harkness and have never learned one healthy coping mechanism in your life. and I'm sure she's already rationalizing it as something like "if I get powerful enough I can bring nicky back." but the truth is, she just wants to get drunk on magic and murder and stop feeling so horrible. she's running away, like usual. she's planning to kill witches in front of the grave of the very kid who begged her not to, and she's using his song to do it. as if that's not gonna haunt her or anything.

(it really gets me how agatha's smiles are so different from kathryn's. agatha never smiles with her eyes, except when she's with nicky.)

agatha's diabolical scam is so stupid if you think about, definitely worthy of the clown she has become. just pretend the Road didn't open and then annoy people into attacking you! better than using a literal child as bait, I guess.

here she absorbs a yellow coven, and yep, it does look like covens are all supposed to be the same color?

the bodies from the agnes of westview opening.

orange coven in the late 1800s. I really like that dress and hat on her

blue coven in the 1920s, and another cunty outfit

I know you guys like the 90s look, but it makes me laugh how hard she was trying for that Craft vibe. and we don't see the beams color here.

and finally, our girls. (I miss you all so muchhhhh)

what do you know! looks like a door has appeared! (sharonnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn!!!!!)

from fuck has my karma caught up with me to well well well, looks like we have another little maximoff on our hands

and speaking of little maximoffs and giant assholes...

go to episode 9 part 5

[chugging-antiseptic-dye]

Five times you hated Joshua

genre : soft angst word count : 1.3 k words > trigger warnings : profanities and slight slut-shaming (not by shua)

1.

When he helped you up after you tripped in front of him like a goddamn idiot

What happened half an hour ago was the thing you have been dreading since you and Joshua broke up. You even went to church on a Sunday with your mother and begged God to let you keep your dignity for once and NOT make a fool of yourself in front of Joshua. And did you do exactly one week later? Be the biggest, most pathetic loser in this whole city, nay, the universe! Maybe it wasn't a big deal. Lots of people make eye contact with their ex who they have been ghosting, and then stub their toe in the sidewalk, let out a scream a pterodactyl would be proud of, and fall face first into the snow. Joshua running over to help you up was the nail on the coffin. You hated him so much.

Why couldn't he have left you alone when you were hurt?

2.

When he lied to your mom that you were still together

"Why didn't you tell me the reason Joshua couldn't come to family dinner was because he is busy on an important work project? A project that could even net him a promotion??" As usual, your mother screeched as soon as the call connected.

Blindsided by it all, you replied in the most intelligent way you could,

"Huh?”

"And here I thought he finally had enough of you and broke up. I mean no would blame him. Look at who Joshua is and look at yourself. Goodness!”

"Um, yeah, sorry, he was just busy.”

Your brain volleyed off your mom's interrogation on autopilot because the only thing your mind could loop was how much you loathed Joshua.

Why did he still have to be your partner in crime?

3.

When he helped you feed stray cats even when he doesn't like pets.

Enough time has passed since your breakup that you felt that it was safe enough to pass through your old neighbourhood yours and Joshua's home. Making a slight detour to check up on the two stray cats you used to take care of, you push down the feelings of guilt that bubble up. You keep telling yourself that they are okay. They are stray cats. They will be fine without you feeding them premium grade tuna. But, you are still apprehensive of what you are going to find. Suddenly, you see a silhouette dropping something on where the cats frequently gather. Recognizing it's Joshua, you dash into deep dive into the adjacent alley. Your eyes widen in disbelief as you recognize the can Joshua poured something out of. Making sure to stay still until he leaves, you creep slower when the area is deserted again. You saw right. It was the type of tuna you always fed the strays with. It took you a whole minute to wrap your head around the fact that Joshua kept on feeding your the cats. The same Joshua who grumbled that they will follow you home if you keep on feeding them. The same Joshua who passive aggressivly attached the pet policy notice on the fridge with magnets. That Joshua? You can't even stand seeing a single strand of his hair at this moment.

Why did he break his own rules for you?

4.

When he doesn't let anyone disrespect you behind your back

You didn't mean to hear it. However, it seemed that the universe decided that you were its new punching bag and thus, the moment you hit behind the curtains to take a breather (cough hide from Joshua cough) , an annoying, grating voice piped up,

"Hey, Josh!"

Your first thought was, who the fuck is Josh and your second thought was, oh no (you could f e e l the universe smugly saying, oh yes)

"Hey, man! Long time no see. What's up?" A very, very familiar voice replied.

"It's all good. Just peachy. You here alone? I swear, I thought I saw that girl of yours."

You swear that you could feel the. heat radiating off a body just a few centimetres in front of you in the pitch-black darkness . And the voice responding confirmed that you were not being delusional.

"Um. Maybe she is here. I don't know actually. We sort of broke up." Joshua replied awkwardly.

"Oh damn. It's all right, bro. There are plenty of fish in the sea and all that. I always thought she was a bit of a bitch anyway. Acting like she is so above us while dressing so slutty."

Pin drop silent lasted for a few seconds and then, with steel in his voice that you didn't know he possessed, Joshua spit out,

"I think you got the wrong idea here, pal. She broke up with me and not the other way around. And even if I broke up with her, it would not be because of any fault of hers. She is an amazing person inside out."

That piping voice finally got a hint (who even was this idiot) and squeaked a bit in fear.

"Wow, sorry, man. I didn't know that you guys were still together. I totally respect your territory and all that."

"You don't have to respect my 'territory' at all. But never disrespect her in front of me again."

"Yeah, whatever, bye."

Both of you could hear the idiot mutter as he walked away, "What crawled up his ass today?"

Letting out a deep sigh, Joshua also walked away. And you hated him a bit more.

Why couldn't he let you face the world alone?

5.

When he is always in your corner even when you are not

It was a dull Monday evening like any other. The only thing that was exciting in your life was that you were two pages away from finishing the book you were slogging through the last eight months. Just as you turn to the second last page, a small slip of paper starts to float down from the book. Now, curious, you pick it up only to read the words,

"Almost at the end! I always knew you could do it, sweetheart <3 - Your Joshua."

A high-pitched kneeing wail slipped out of your throat and you fell down to your knees. Why, why, why, why, why, why, why. Why did he have to be so supportive? You never hated someone as much as you hated him.

Why did he always have faith in you?

+ The one time you accepted that you will always love him

+1

You were so used to taking the same route every day that it was something you could do with your eyes closed. Suddenly a shrill ring of the phone broke the sacred silence of the subway. Ugh, who doesn't even know to silence their phones before getting on here? You think before recognising that it was your phone that was ringing. In a panic-filled scramble, you accept the phone call and whisper,

"Hello?"

"Wow, I didn't think you would pick up." Joshua said with a tired chuckle.

"Um, well, I did. Is it something important you wanted to tell me? I am actually on the subway. I will call you back later?"

"No! It's fine. There's no need to call back." With a click, the call ended. You turn the short conversation over in your mind. Only one thing stood out. Joshua's voice was even but there seemed to be something he was holding back.

Making a sudden split decision, you elbow your way through the crowd and managed to get on the platform just one second before the subway pulled away. Giving yourself a second to catch your breathe, you make your way towards Joshua's house. It's not something an ex-girlfriend should do but Joshua was so bad at asking for help and you couldn't bear the thought of him experiencing any kind of pain.

It's okay, you guys were bad at being exes anyways.

[tinylilacbun]

rafe involuntarily regresses and doesn't know it ‧₊˚ ┊

You are just about to finish your skincare routine when you see your phone light up, wiping your hands on a towel before picking it up, smiling at seeing that its a message from Rafe.

A frown spreads on your face, reading that you both couldn't meet up today because something came up.

Weird. It's unlike him to abruptly cancel your plans since he always looks forward to every second he gets to spend with you, so you're a little concerned that something might be wrong.

He has been under a lot of stress lately, to which he just replied that it's just because of Sarah acting up or some shit, but you know better.

That's how you're now making your short way to Tannyhill, luckily living a few houses away from your boyfriend.

As you round the corner you stop when you hear a familiar voice shouting.

"Please! Sarah, please don't leave, okay?" Rafe calls out desperately, continuing when Sarah stops her bicycle. "Dad's gone. And now it's just...it's you, me, and Wheezie."

"What's the point, Rafe?" Sarah sniffles, trying to keep up a tough facade.

You watch as he approaches to stand in front of her, not being able to make out what they're saying and shocked by what you just heard, Ward is gone?

After a while Sarah simply drives past him and he lifts his hands to fist his hair in frustration, turning to watch his sister leave he catches you standing a few feet away, his hands falling back to his sides.

Walking over to him you see a single tear rolling down his face, picking up your pace you embrace him just in time for him to break down.

He loosely wraps his arms around you, burying his face in your neck and his body trembling slightly as he cries, finally letting out all the pent up emotions he kept sealed for the past weeks.

"He's gone...he-" He chokes on his own words and you shush him softly.

"I'm here, I got you..." You assure him, rubbing a hand up and down his back. "C'mon, let's go inside. Tell me what happened."

Soon you're both cuddled up on his bed. Rafe laying on top of you, using your chest as a pillow while you run a hand through his hair to soothe him as he sniffles, his hands holding onto you for dear life.

"If I wouldn't have...I could have saved him I-" He keeps on rambling over and over again, blaming himself for his father's death.

You sigh heavily, on one side you obviously feel bad for him, not wanting to see the person you love so much pain.

On the other side you can't help but feel a tinge of frustration at how much Rafe cares for his father who didn't even wanted to acknowledge the fact that his son needed help even after he himself told him that he's not well.

He doesn't need to be all big and independent in your eyes. He should get to have someone that listens to him and help him fight his demons, not push him away and tell him to 'man up'.

"You're not alone, baby...I'm here for you, always." You hum, your nails softly scratching the back of his head to the nape of his neck, pressing a kiss to his hair.

He adjusts his position to be able to look up at you with glassy eyes, the tiniest pout on his face as he blinks at you. "M'scared..."

"Scared? Of what?" You ask, your voice soft and like balm to his soul.

"This- This feelin'." He mumbles, his grip on your shirt tightening momentarily. "I jus'...feel so small? I dunno, you make me feel safe and- and taken care of."

Your eyes widen a tad, your hands not stopping their comforting gestures. You've noticed for a while that Rafe seems to slip into some kind of subspace? But not exactly what you would expect.

His speech slurs and he won't let go of you, not even for longer than a minute, almost whimpering when you would pull away.

He reminds you of this sweet little boy he was when you both were younger and playing or fooling around in figure eight.

"It's okay, don't worry about anything right now. Just relax." You smile at him, cupping his cheek with your hand, caressing his cheek with your thumb as he nuzzles more against you, craving your comfort.

Whatever this is he seems to slip into, you're there for him, always. You love Rafe with your whole heart and would do anything to make him feel cared for.

Taglist

For everything:

@my-river-lilly @pauntedblacknails @fanfictioniseverything @buckymydarlingangel @hallecarey1 @daybreakwinter @loveshineslikethesky @vase-of-lilies @white-wolf1940 @simpingbutch @mischiefsemimanaged @alina02 @teddybearsgrr @doozywoozy @angelbabydoll28 @glxwingrxse @lilymurphy03 @veryvaughnny @lokigirlszendaya @youngstarfishdinosaur @little--baby--bear @minideathgoddess @rach2602 @gh0stgurl @flourishandblotts-inc @lovelyy-moonlight @yoruse

@mythixmagic @iris-xoxo-juhu @mylettterstoyou @sunf1ower16 @sweetstars-posts @rafecameronsloverrrrr @rafenroostersgirl

For Rafe:

@chiaraanatra @chimindity @erikasurfer

[cushfuddled]

DUDE DUDE DUDE THANK YOU! All your meta on Viktor makes me so happy.

Viktor can be closed off and callous, but what kills me is that he doesn't mean to come across that way. I think a lot of his comments look snide on paper, but are spoken with genuine care. Like their meeting from S1E2:

JAYCE: Who are you anyway? VIKTOR: I'm assistant to the Dean of the Academy—who it may serve you to remember is also head of the Council. He sent me here to ensure that anything dangerous is removed safely. Which, according to my list, includes you. JAYCE: What? How am I dangerous?! VIKTOR: That's for the council to decide.

In my memory, Viktor delivered these lines with a cavalier tone, like, "I'm the ASSISTANT to the HEAD OF THE COUNCIL who's gonna KICK YOUR ASS, rich boy." But look at Viktor's expressions as he delivers these lines!

"I'm assistant to the Dean of the Academy—who it may serve you to remember is also head of the Council. He sent me here to ensure that anything dangerous is removed safely. Which, according to my list, includes you."

There's maybe a tiny flicker of amusement as he reminds Jayce of his place, but I don't think that's Viktor relishing Jayce's plight. To me, these expressions are more contemplative with a tinge of surprise. Less like "haha, look at this dumb rich boy suffer consequences for the first time!" and more like "haha, this kid's got spunk!" He's not put off by Jayce's naive pigheadedness; he's fascinated by Jayce's work and endeared by his outbursts. He relates to Jayce's frustrations and his fighting spirit.

In other words, Viktor may not mean to reprimand Jayce so much as alert him to the gravity of his circumstances. The translation goes, "Don't underestimate the power of the forces you're up against. I'm here as a representative to the Council, which means 1. you're a threat to the oligarchy, and 2. as a man of my position, you can trust me when I say you need to take this situation very, very seriously."

And then look at Victor's face when he says, "That's for the council to decide."

There's no contempt or schadenfreude here. Viktor looks so SAD. To my eyes, this is the face of a man who's seen Jayce's rebuttal to a plea for caution, and knows Jayce won't be able to disguise his passion at the trial. This bright spark will be extinguished under the heel of the oligarchy, and that inspires a regretful tone, not a haughty one.

But again, the words themselves would lead anyone to believe Viktor spoke with derision. And I think this mismatch applies to a lot of Viktor's interactions with Jayce and Sky. Again, I remembered Viktor being aloof and snarky when he saved Jayce, but the reality was much less black and white. On rewatch, Viktor wasn't the pillar of snark from my memory. He seemed out of his depth.

"Am I interrupting?" no longer feels like snark, but a misfire. I don't think Viktor has a lot of experience with giving or receiving comfort, and I suspect his first instinct—even when faced with a scenario as dire as a man on a ledge—was to reach for something light and quippy to diffuse the tension. The "a bit egotistical" comment falls into this category for me too, especially with the way Viktor's eyes dart around as he delivers the line (and how Jayce's offense seems to catch him off guard).

VIKTOR: ...Every page, I might add. Eh, a little egotistical, don't you think?

JAYCE: Is that why you came? To insult me? VIKTOR: [Fervently] No, no.

VIKTOR: I was intrigued by what you said at the trial. JAYCE: [Shooting Viktor down again] That makes you the only one. VIKTOR: Yes, well, I wanted to talk about your work.

The awkwardness of Viktor's "...Yes, well," reads like course correction. If there's exasperation here, I think it's coming from a desire to reach Jayce, coupled with the terrifying knowledge that his failure could spell Jayce's death. He's tried to diffuse the situation, and now he's had to switch tactics; he'll convince Jayce to stay on the merits of his work. Except Jayce anticipates ill-intent and reacts defensively. From Viktor's POV he must feel like he's only pushing Jayce farther and farther away, and there's a desperation leaking into Viktor's expression as he says, "Yes, well, I wanted to talk about your work. This Hextech theory of yours."

Viktor steps closer and closer towards Jayce. But Jayce takes the peace offer as an insult. He's angry, convinced Viktor came here to antagonize him. "It's not a theory!"

But then Jayce gives Viktor an in: "You have no idea how beautiful it is. And now it's gone. No one believed me."

Here, Viktor gives up all pretense of detachment. He steps out of the shadows and joins Jayce in the revealing light of the ledge. He meets Jayce where he's at, and his vulnerability ("Nobody's ever believed in me. A poor cripple from the undercity. I was an outsider the moment I stepped foot in Piltover") is what allows Jayce to finally shift his perception of Viktor from a bully (here to pour salt in his wounds) to a comrade in arms (here to help him achieve his dream).

In general, Viktor strikes me as an autistic man...

with a passion for his work (cough special interest cough) so intense it can make it seem like he doesn't care about other people/being included/recognition/his own health

who sometimes misses key social cues (like when Sky offers to walk him home) and struggles to follow the "right" social scripts, with his flat affect and cut-to-the-chase approach often causing him to come across as detached or mean when he's really neither of those things

Viktor doesn't feel safe enough to show vulnerability very often, which also contributes to that aura of aloofness. He's absolutely got a sense of humor, and I think he can be snarky. Sometimes Viktor even defaults to snark and banter as a buffer between himself and his emotions. Big emotions have always frightened and frustrated Viktor on so many levels.

*whispers* Viktor never once says anything mean or belittling to Jayce after they become partners. Not one insulting "you" statement, not one disagreement where he doesn't remained focused on the point of contention. He never makes ad hominem attacks, he never insults Jayce's appearance or intelligence.

Literally the single meanest thing he says to Jayce that could be considered a "you" statement is "Your mind has become rigid." Basically, he's saying that Jayce has suffered so much recently that it's closed his mind to broader intellectual possibilities like, that is barely an insult, and clearly Viktor just means it as a statement of fact, if not a challenge for Jayce to joyously consider possibilities again. And by the way? That statement is when Viktor is in his full his villain arc. It's remarkable because it's the only time he's pointed out a perceived flaw in Jayce since the night when he questioned if Jayce signed his notes out of being egotistical.

From the moment Jayce told Viktor about how beautiful magic could be, arguably once Jayce became a person to Viktor rather than a subject of academic discipline or skepticism, Viktor has not once leveled a personal attack against him as a person. Not even during the fight on the bridge. Not even when he called Jayce's Councilor work a waste of our time. Not even when Jayce was considering making Hextech weapons, Viktor still remained focused on the substance of the argument, expressed incredulity, anger, even disgust that Jayce would consider making weapons, but he never said it was because Jayce was stupid or privileged or blind. He pointed out specifically that he knew Jayce felt trapped by the decision, he knew Jayce was being manipulated, and then, in a very pointed manner, Viktor reminded Jayce that there's always a choice, challenging Jayce to stand firm and do what was right.

Even when they parted ways in 2.02, Viktor didn't say there was anything wrong with Jayce. He just said their paths had diverged, again not saying anything was wrong with Jayce, or even his choices, but rather that they're two different people who had stayed together longer than their diverging goals normally would have allowed because of the affection they held for each other.

I don't know, I get why people write Viktor as catty or mean or dismissive of Jayce. There's definitely some quotes from the day they met, before they become partners, that lend to the idea that Viktor can be quite dry and sharp with others. And conflict is the stuff of good fiction so again, totally get putting some conflict between him and Jayce in fic.

But I also think there's a tendency in derivative works like fic to Flanderize the characters, or worse, put them into narrow archetype boxes that are vastly different from their more interesting and nuanced canon selves.

How many times have we seen a wiggly man/straight man or blue vs. red personality partnership duo? How often have we seen those partners not be able to fucking stand each other, who are bickering all the time, who are snide or backtalk, or are perpetually sarcastic?

It's so common that I get why people see it with Jayce and Viktor but that's why it's so damn fascinating to me that they aren't like that.

Jayce and Viktor don't suffer each other unwillingly at any point, even when they're having a goddamn flying superhero fight in the final episode they're talking about how they're happy to see each other and praying that the other will please step away from this destructive path! They don't want to hurt each other, even verbally!

During the years of their partnership, they're constantly delighted by the other's presence, they are instantly comfortable together and never have a bad word to say to or about each other. They actually don't bicker! When they have disagreements, they stay entirely focused on the point of the disagreement and they never dip into personal attacks of any kind.

Even the tone of the time Jayce yells at him on the bridge, arguably their most acrimonious moment in the whole first season, isn't an actual argument, no more than a parent yelling at their child for running into traffic is an argument. Jayce says awful things but it's clear his anger comes from fear for Viktor and for their precarious situation. And it's clear this is a deeply unusual moment for both of them, Viktor is taken aback at how unusual it is, Jayce once called out backs down immediately, arguably because it's so unnatural for them to fight at all that it takes the wind out of the sails of Jayce's anger instantly when he realizes he's crossed a line.

No one can drag a bad word about Viktor out of Jayce, and vice versa! When Singed implies that Viktor might lose loved ones over his choices, Viktor immediately (and correctly!) states that Jayce will understand.

They are rigorously protective of one another too. Arguably all the times Viktor excludes Jayce from his Hexcore experiments in S1 is to protect him from his reckless and likely illegal experiments (as well as not wanting Jayce to stop him and wanting to live, but it can be many things). Jayce constantly cites Viktor as his partner and constantly reiterates that Viktor is his priority in life, that saving Viktor comes first. Jayce overthrows the goddamn founder of the city in order to protect Viktor!

Jayce's love for Viktor is so extreme that literally in S2, the only person who can convince Jayce to hurt Viktor, after seeing the post-apocalyptic Hell of a future that is caused by him, is Viktor himself. Jayce doesn't even get mad at Viktor after he learns Viktor is the cause of what he saw! He is instead desperate to get back, to avert the damage caused by their joint work in Hextech, and saved Viktor from the fate worse than death that is Mage Viktor's total isolation in the aftermath. And every step of the way, even knowing what he knows it's clear he's in agony at the thought of having to raise a hand to Viktor at all.

Now of course I'm getting into just how insane their love for one another gets in S2, but I just feel so baffled sometimes reading fic where Viktor is constantly undercutting, insulting, or belittling Jayce every which way. He never once does that after the partnership begins. And it makes me so insane because we have so many partnerships in media that do devolve into sarcasm, cattiness, and backbiting but Jayce and Viktor aren't one of them and that's really really fucking interesting and worthy of exploration I think.

[gloomysoup]

falling in love with you

@steddiebingo 12 days of christmas prompt: love at first sight

rating: teen+ | word count: 2,285 | tags: alpha eddie/omega steve, mpreg, hurt/comfort, light angst | ao3

another fic in the home is where you are universe 🥰 (first one can be found here) this CAN be read as a stand alone, though! technically, this one is set several years before the other fic in this universe

If you had asked Eddie even three years ago, he probably would have told you that he never saw himself being a dad. It just didn't seem to be in the cards for him. And then, he and Steve got serious. Eddie had known right from the start that Steve wanted kids. As many as he could. At first, Eddie had been cautious. He tried to keep at least a little bit of distance between them, so as not to get too attached to someone he wasn’t sure he had a future with. It was pointless, though, because he was in love with Steve.

The turning point— the thing that finally cemented in Eddie’s brain that he was going to court Steve with the intent to mate— was the first time he saw Steve interact with a baby. They had been at the grocery store when they ran into someone Steve had known for a long time. Eddie didn’t quite catch who it was, but he thought Steve said something about an old babysitter. Whoever she was, she relatively recently had a baby, and the baby was with her. Eddie watched from slightly behind Steve as he gushed over the baby and asked to hold them. It was over for Eddie the second Steve had that baby in his arms, turning to look at Eddie with the biggest fucking smile on his face.

He was a fucking goner.

That was probably the most in love with Steve he had ever been up to that point. At that exact moment, he knew he would fold. He would give Steve whatever he wanted after that. He was in it for the long haul, prepared to be a dad if only to make Steve Harrington smile like that again. He knew he wasn’t going to be any good at it. He had a shit dad. He still had Wayne, but even that didn’t always feel like he had a good dad. Sure, Wayne was an amazing role model and always treated Eddie like his own son, and Eddie would forever be grateful to that man for everything he did. Wayne was still his uncle, though. There was still a little bit of a divide there, at least in Eddie’s brain. Regardless of his own feelings about being a dad, though, Eddie would do it for Steve. Easily. With zero hesitation at all.

It wasn’t like Eddie wasn’t going to love his own kid. He knew he would. He just… didn’t get the hype. He didn’t understand why people wanted kids. Why they go out of their way to have kids. He just didn’t get what the big deal was. He figured if he had kids of his own, he would care for them and help them learn and grow, but that would be that. Nothing more to it.

Oh, how wrong he was.

When they first found out Steve was pregnant, Steve was ecstatic. Eddie was terrified. He had a big moment of panic that night, after Steve had fallen asleep. He had gotten out of bed to slip into the bathroom. He paced, ran his hands through his hair, splashed his face with water. Anything to try and chill out before his restlessness woke Steve. Anything to cover the anxiety flowing through his entire body. Anything to keep Steve from getting insecure about this, to feel like it's a bad thing and Eddie doesn't want this.

Eddie doesn't know what he wants.

He hadn’t gotten much sleep that night. He ended up getting ready for work way earlier than necessary and telling Steve he had an errand to run before his shift. Steve, the wonderful mate that he is, simply smiled and told Eddie he loved him with a kiss on the cheek, sending him off with a lunch packed with love and a promise to see him after work that night.

Eddie went straight to Wayne.

He had burst through the door, pacing the length of the living room while Wayne sat at the table with a bowl of cereal and a beer. Wayne didn’t say a word for a while, just watched Eddie’s pacing with a raised brow. Finally, he sighed and put his empty bowl in the sink. He leaned back against the counter and broke the silence.

“What’s on your mind, kid?”

Eddie stopped pacing, turning to look at Wayne. He tried to keep down the tears that wanted to spill out. He didn’t want to cry. Not now.

“How the hell am I supposed to be a dad, Wayne?” he asked softly, voice trembling.

Wayne frowned, a crease between his brows as he studied Eddie. “What’d’ya mean, Ed?”

Eddie sucked in a deep breath. “Steve’s pregnant.” His voice was so quiet, he wasn’t sure how Wayne heard him. “I- I don't know what to do, Wayne. I’m terrified.”

Understanding crossed Wayne’s features for just a second before he smiled. “Steve’s pregnant,” he repeated. Eddie nodded quickly. “Ed, that’s great.” He paused. “This is good news, right?”

Eddie licked his lips. He took another breath. He tried to center himself. “I- I think so? Steve’s so excited, Wayne. I just- I’m so scared.”

Wayne nodded slowly before gesturing to the table. “Have a seat, son. Let’s talk about it.” Eddie slid into one of the chairs— three; one for Wayne, one for Eddie, and one for Steve. Eddie distantly thinks they’ll need to get Wayne another chair. “What’s really eatin’ at ya, Ed?”

Eddie sighed, scrubbing his hands down his face. “I never wanted to be a dad,” he explained softly. “I just thought- I thought I wouldn’t be any good at it. I didn’t want to put a pup through shit just because they got stuck with me for a dad. I didn’t think I wanted this. And then I met Steve. He’s always wanted pups. He loves kids, and he’s so good with babies. He was made to be a mom, Wayne. I just- I thought I could do it, for him. It’s not like I won’t love my kid, because I will, I just don’t know what the hell I’m doing. I’m so scared I’m gonna fuck everything up.”

Wayne hummed, but stayed quiet for a beat. Eddie felt like his heart was going to pound out of his chest.

“So, this is less about you and more about your daddy, isn’t it?” Eddie’s head hit the table with a gentle thud. Wayne took that as his answer. “Ed, you are not your father. In fact, you are the exact opposite of that man.”

“But what if I'm not?” Eddie asked, his voice shaking. “What if I turn out just like him? I can't do it, Wayne. This- this is such a bad idea. I'm gonna fuck everything up. I don't wanna do to Steve what he did to Mama.”

“Worryin’ ‘bout fuckin’ everything up’s what makes you different, Eddie. Your fear is what’s gonna make you a great dad. I know f’r a fact you'll do right by Steve and ya pup, ‘cause I done raised you up myself. I know you, Ed. I know you love that boy, ‘cause I see it in your eyes every time you're with him. I know you're gonna love that pup, ‘cause they're part of him. And bein’ scared’s jus’ part of bein’ a parent, kid. Hell, I'm still scared sometimes, and you're grown now. You ain't got nothin’ to panic for, I promise. You and your boy are gonna be jus’ fine.”

Eddie sucked in a breath and nodded, feeling a lot better already. He knew he could always count on Wayne to pull him back from the ledge.

“You can't tell Steve I told you,” he said, tilting his head on the table to look at Wayne. “He can't know I freaked out about this.”

Wayne raised an eyebrow at him. “Boy, you'd best not think to try an’ hide your feelin’s from him. It ain't gonna do ya any damn good not to talk to him ‘bout this shit.”

“I can't, Wayne,” Eddie whined. “It'll destroy him.”

“And you think it won't when he finds out you kept it from him?”

Once again, Wayne was right. Eddie would never admit it to his face, but he could internally loathe the fact that his uncle was, indeed, correct. A lot. Eddie sometimes hated how much Wayne knew the both of them.

Eddie had to talk to Steve.

It was the right thing to do.

After work.

-

When Eddie got home that night, it was later than usual. He decided to stop at the corner store on his way home to pick up a few of Steve’s favorite things. He hoped it would soften the blow….

He walked in the door laden with a bag of treats and a bouquet of half-wilted daisies to find Steve standing in the small kitchen of their even smaller apartment. A piece of his brain caught on the thread that there was no way they could provide for a baby in an apartment like this. He needed to find a way to fix that.

“You're late,” Steve said, back still to Eddie. He sounded upset. “You left early, you’re home late. It's like you don't even want to be here anymore.”

Eddie frowned, very quickly realizing that he had made a mistake. A big one. A mistake that he needed to remedy immediately. “I'm sorry, baby. I should've called. I, uh, stopped at the store on my way home. I didn't mean to be gone so long.”

Steve turned, then, eyes drifting to Eddie’s arms. Eddie carefully set the bag on the table and held the flowers out toward Steve. “Eddie….”

“I know they're not your favorite, and they're kind of wilted, but it's the best I could find without paying an arm and a leg,” Eddie rushed out. Steve gently took the flowers, inspecting them for a moment before setting them to the side. He pulled Eddie into a hug, wrapping his arms around his neck and pressing his nose into his scent gland.

“They're beautiful,” he whispered, his voice shaky with tears that Eddie soon felt soaking into his shirt. Eddie wrapped his arms around Steve and held him close, squeezing just tight enough.

“I'm sorry I've been so weird lately,” Eddie whispered into the side of Steve’s head.

“You mean just today, right after I told you I was pregnant.”

Eddie swallowed roughly. “Yeah.”

Steve pulled away and wiped at his eyes, going back to the stove where he had been cooking dinner. “Y’know, if you didn't want pups with me, you should've said something a long time ago, Eddie.”

Eddie shook his head, coming up behind Steve to wrap his arms around his waist. He let one hand settle low on his belly. “No, baby, that's not what it is, I swear,” he promised softly. “I just- I don't know. I panicked a little bit. It all just kinda… hit me all at once. I- I'm just so scared…. I don't want to be like my own dad and fuck everything up. I don't want to do that to you, or our pup.”

Steve turned around again with a frown on his perfect lips. Eddie suddenly had the urge to kiss it away. “Eddie,” he whispered.

“I left early this morning to see Wayne,” he blurted before Steve could say anything else that would inevitably make Eddie feel worse. “I know I should've talked to you about it before I told him, but I was so freaked out and didn't know what to do. Wayne had to walk me back from the ledge. And I wasn't even going to tell you, because I didn't want you to be upset or mad or insecure or whatever, but obviously Wayne is a lot smarter than me and insisted that I had to tell you, so here I am, telling you.” Eddie sucked in a deep breath, and just as Steve opened his mouth to say something, he blurted out a final, “and I brought you chocolate.”

Steve smiled softly, cupping Eddie’s face in his hands. “Do you have anything else to blurt out, or can I say something now?”

“The floor is yours,” Eddie said.

“Good.” Steve pressed a brief kiss to his lips before pulling back and looking right into Eddie’s soul. “I wish you would've told me what you were feeling first, but I'm glad Wayne knocked some sense into you. You are not your dad, Eddie. You are so funny, and kind, and loving, and amazing. I love you. I wouldn't want to start a family with anyone else. I know for a fact that you are going to be a wonderful dad, Eddie.”

Eddie nodded, swallowing around the lump in his throat. “I just wanna do everything right,” he said softly.

“I believe in you with everything I have.”

-

Eddie Munson never thought he would be a dad.

He was never one to believe in love at first sight, either.

On September 18, at 2:47am, all of that changed.

That day, Eddie fell in love with his little girl. Addie Louise Munson was the light of his life from the first moment he laid eyes on her. She was the greatest gift he had ever received, the pup who had made him a dad for the first time.

Eddie would never admit it out loud, but he definitely cried more than Steve when she was born. His perfect little bundle of joy, swaddled up in his arms with a sleepy little smile on her scrunched-up newborn face.

Eddie knew from that first moment.

He was a fucking goner.