#literally my last brain cells working together

[multivstx]

my chaotic children.

[dirt-mann]

not the laziest servers in the world keeping my ass at work 2 hours after I was ready to leave

[novantinuum]

jen's "Hard-Light Hybrid Steven" headcanon dump

Okay so I'm just making this its own post, because frankly at this point... the original post is so hard to get all the pulp out of due to the headcanons being spread over multiple reblogs and half of it being in the tags.

So here we go. Self indulgent headcanon time. This is how I'm now personally interpreting things within the realm of my own fic work and the post-canon storylines that live in my mind. This is NOT, however, a work of meta- I am by no means suggesting this to be what I see as "canon," only having some fun playing around with ideas I think are cool on a speculative fantasy anatomy level. Take it as you will basically, lol. This is ultimately just for me.

With that stated:

"jen what the fuck do you mean when you say hard-light hybrid Steven, what are you even suggesting"

Essentially I am proposing that Steven becomes progressively more hard-light based in form as he ages. When he was born he was two almost entirely separate halves mashed together- organic and gem- and those two halves slowly but surely merge over the years (hard light replacing organic matter) until one day they are literally inseparable, and Steven is one permanently cohesive being... entirely hewn from hard-light, but with a level of anatomical complexity that still makes him a complete anomaly amongst Gems and humans alike. Instead of the innards of his body being solid light, he is still formed of cells- only now, those cells are entirely hard-light.

His gem is somehow mimicking the form of organic matter with a level of detail that's absolutely unobtainable by shapeshifting or tailored reformation alone. Steven has become the single most complex hard-light system to have ever existed.

Some more specifics on how I imagine this merge working:

Much of the "merging" is natural over time, basically his gem branching out new bits of hard-light circuitry within his body as it integrates within his system.

However, this process is sped up significantly by all the spills and injuries Steven deals with throughout his childhood... because his body's instinctive response to injury is simply to replace damaged cells with hard-light analogues. An almost instantaneous patch job.

Steven's component halves being so distinct early on is a large reason why he takes so long to harness many of his powers.

This is also why Steven's (mostly) organic half is so weakened during the split in Change Your Mind- at that point there's a lot about his anatomy that's been converted to hard-light, so it's basically as if White Diamond yanked the power source out.

(Same idea for why he's so weakened during the movie when his gem's on the fritz... his gem's connection with the rest of his body got partially severed for a time, which. Is not Good for someone who at this point is more hard-light than not hard light.)

At a certain point post-canon, it becomes impossible for Steven's organic and gem halves to be separated. They are so tightly integrated that attempting to remove the gem would only poof him.

Now, here's the thing though...

Steven does not realize that Any of this is taking place until the blunt reality of his strange new anatomical nature is put on display for all to see... when he actually DOES poof.

Here is how (in my own post-canon musings, which I have simplified here because y'all don't live inside all the intensive lore that jangles about my brain) I envision that taking place:

So, Steven would be in his mid to late twenties at this point. He's married to Connie, and they have an infant son.

Recently, there was a fairly severe Gem incident that left Beach City and Little Homeworld pretty damaged. Things are still being mopped up from that.

Steven, Garnet, Amethyst, and Pearl head out on a quick mission one day to intercept one of the last few supporters of the Gem who attacked the Crystal Gem's hub of operation, and at first it seems like it's gonna be a straightforward trip.

Then, Steven sees the Gem in question pull a destabilizer wand on Garnet, and- unwilling to watch her to get ripped apart like that again- throws himself in between. He can take it, he thinks. These things never hurt him one bit as a kid

He cannot take it.

He poofs.

His gem unceremoniously falls to the ground, along with the clothes he was wearing and whatever he had in his pockets.

Cue the others going "what the actual FUCK" because based on everything they've ever witnessed and known about him no one had "Steven poofs" on their bingo card.

The insurgent Gem is captured and dealt with, but now... oh, boy. There's literally no playbook for this. Nobody knows what to expect.

Steven's gem is quiet for WEEKS. During that time, the Gems end up consulting the Diamonds on Homeworld to ask for intel on diamond reformation, but none of them are much help- Rose and Steven are the only ones who have actually poofed. Beyond them, this is completely unprecedented.

In a very vague sense, Steven is aware of what must have happened during this time... (even if a part of him wants to deny it, because How???)

He can pick up vague snippets of what's happening just beyond his reach... catching voices and what must be faint sensations of familiar people handling his gem, but beyond that he has no awareness of the passage of time, and he has no means by which to reach out to them mentally.

It takes almost two months for him to finally reform. When he does, his gem quickly shifts through its previous three forms and then just... outright h a n g s for a while on the new one... as if what's trying to "load" up is so complex it's goddamn buffering.

(my brain can only think of This image uyhjfsdbyuhjfg)

No one really knows what to expect but when he finally reforms, he... looks mostly the same? Still rather human in appearance, externally? The only notable difference is that his irises are pink now. (But with no diamond pupil- not unless he's going Full Power Mode.)

Steven also reforms WITH an outfit much like a Gem would.

The second he's back, he runs to embrace Connie (who is sobbing in relief) and asks how long he was out.

And he did NOT anticipate that answer to be two months.

As it turns out, he missed quite a few baby milestones while he was gone, and he feels horrible about it- it's not his fault of course, but he feels so bad that Connie had to go that long without his support, and that there's all those special "firsts" with his son he'll never get to experience.

This whole incident marks Steven's final "retirement" from participating in real combat- he outright tells the Gems to not involve him in any other combat situations unless the whole ass planet is under threat, basically. The potential risks are just not worth it now that he knows how long he'd be out of commission, should he poof once more. He can't put his family through that again.

Now, with all that outlined...

Ways that Steven is Weird now:

He looks rather human- his hair looks like hair and his skin looks like skin- but after he reforms, literally every "cell" of his body is fashioned out of hard-light.

However, if one were to theoretically slice him in half (which I PROMISE I am not going to do, this is only a thought experiment ahahah-), his internal anatomy would glow much like the Gems' do. (See below image for what I mean.) The "human-like" appearance of his skin and hair and other externally visible features does not extend very deep.

He "bleeds" pink now- but it's only surface, and is all just excess hard-light. No real blood.

His body would no longer show up on a radiograph- just the gem.

Many of his anatomical features (not all of them, though) are now vestigial in certain ways-? Like, various functions have overtly been taken over by his gem... he doesn't need to breathe or have any lifeblood beyond light pumping through his system, so his heart and lungs serve no necessary purpose anymore... but all of these organs still "exist" as like an echo of what once was, perfect mimics of their organic form but hewn from hard-light.

That being said, Connie enjoys the reassurance of his heartbeat, so he retains that function while conscious.

(Not to mention, "breathing" is literally just a habit for him by this point.)

HOWEVER, when he sleeps (another thing he technically doesn't Need to do but does anyways) his breathing and heartbeat stops entirely and it kinda spooks Connie out. The literal only evidence she has that he's still kicking during these times is the soft hum of his gemstone.

He does not have a biological NEED for food or water anymore and can fully operate on exposure to light alone, but he still really enjoys eating and drinking anyways. In fact, he's still able to absorb energy from food... so it's basically like he's over-charging his battery or whatever. He also still experiences taste (so still posesses some form of taste receptors) and instinctively feels "hungry" at meal times, so like... the running theory is that he must have hard-light analogues for all these receptors and neurotransmitters and hormones that communicate sensations like hunger in his system even though their function is entirely redundant with his gem powering everything.

Furthermore, his memories and sense of self and everything one might refer to as "the soul" is stored exclusively in his gem now. Which means, if one could manage to analyze his brain like one could with a human brain, there would be entire sections that simply... don't light up the way that others (such as the parts of the brain that govern motor control, as an example) do. This is because all the "data" once stored there has migrated.

He can fully shapeshift now, if he wanted to.

He can also still visually "age"- it's all based on his mental state, same as before.

But despite being hard-light in nature now, he can still interface with organics in fusion because his form is still so organic in shape and function. He's still the bridge between humanity and gemkind. I like to think that... theoretically... a Gem might be able to fuse with an organic too, but the sheer burden of trying to shapeshift and maintain such cellular complexity is what stops this from happening.

Steven, though? His very existence as a hybrid acted as a template by which hard-light could learn to understand organic life. He is still an intensely unique being, even IF he no longer consists of any actual organic matter.

_

I am sure I will probably add something to this later, but for now, those are all my musings.

Anyways, thank you for taking a brief visit to the deepest recesses of my brain, where I am chewing at the drywall and bouncing around the room like a cat who has just devoured the goddamn motherlode of catnip. Good night! !! :DDD

[jae-bummer]

Un-Breaking Up

Request: i’m not sure if your request are still open honestly it’s my first time requesting ever. do you think you could do one of 10, and 13 with changbin, they were exes and something happened either one could say 10 and then they get stuck together, idk this was a big brain fart

Prompt:

10) “Was it worth it?”

13) Oh no! There's only one bed!

Pairing: Stray Kids Changbin x Reader

Genre: Angst (with a happy ending)

Song rec as you read: Top or Cliff - KIM SEJEONG

.

"What do you mean there's only one room left?" you hissed into your cell phone.

"They overbooked for the weekend," Chan sighed on the other end of the line. "We reserved the rooms when you and Bin were still together."

"And I told you I would pay the extra to get my own room," you groaned. This could not be happening.

When you had agreed to go on this friend-cation, you had been blissfully wrapped in the throes of love.

Now, you were stranded at the airport with a headache and an ex-boyfriend hailing a cab.

"It would have been nice for you to tell me he was on the same flight by the way," you scoffed.

"You literally booked the flights together-"

"You said he was going to change them to come in earlier! With you!"

"I thought he was!" Chan gasped. "Look, if you can't suck it up and be an adult for five minutes-"

"It's a twenty-minute drive," you pouted.

"And rooms are already sorted, so you guys are just going to have to figure it out," he sighed. You could almost hear him, miles away, shaking his head in disappointment.

"Can't he like...stay on your pull-out couch?" you hedged. "I'm sure your partner won't-"

"Oh, they will very much mind," Chan chuckled. "Plus, Changbin paid his portion just like everyone else. He's not getting downgraded to my loveseat."

"He's small enough to fit damn near anywhere," you muttered.

"Y/N," Chan said slowly, careful to keep his annoyance reigned in. "We'll see you soon, okay?"

"Just say you hate me," you complained. You knew you were being dramatic, but you were in too deep to turn back now. It really wasn't your intention to be a brat, but you and Changbin hadn't seen each other in weeks. Your friends had inadvertently become children of divorce, so you knew Chan didn't deserve the grief you were giving him.

"If by hate you mean love," he said cheerfully. "Now get your butt here. I'll see you in the morning."

Rolling your eyes, you hung up the call and shoved your phone in your pocket. Turning on your heel, you marched over to where Changbin was shoving suitcases into the back of a taxi.

"Everything okay?" he huffed, pushing the very last of the luggage into the trunk. "What did Chan say?"

"That you've been invited to sleep on his pullout couch," you smiled brightly.

"Y/N."

"They couldn't get us separate rooms," you muttered, crossing your arms. "And we have to make do."

Changbin's eyebrows shot up. "I'll pay the difference."

"Tried that," you sighed. "They literally have no more room."

"They always have more room," Changbin grumbled, yanking his phone out of his pocket. "Even if it's an executive suite."

"By all means," you hummed, sliding into the back of the waiting car. "If you think you can do something literally no one else could, go ahead."

Choosing not to acknowledge your comment, Changbin joined you in the backseat. Careful to keep a sufficient space barrier between the two of you, he informed the driver of your destination before getting on the phone with what you assumed to be the hotel concierge.

No matter how charming he could be, the fifteen minutes he spent on the phone yielded no results. As he hung up, you could see how ruffled he was. Leaning his head against the window of the taxi, he slowly exhaled.

"Let me guess?" you remarked. "No matter how much money you threw at the problem, it didn't work?"

Taking a deep breath, he swiveled toward you. "I was just trying to help-"

"No one asked," you said sharply. "I tried to fix the problem and couldn't. So did Chan. I don't know why you thought you could come in and save the day-"

"You used to like it when I saved the day," he bristled.

You knew you weren't being fair and simply picking at him just for the sake of picking. "I used to like you in general, but here we are."

Changbin closed his eyes and leaned back into the seat. Luckily, the hotel was already coming into sight. Unluckily, you would still be stuck together for the next few days.

.

"Shit," Changbin said, stepping into the hotel room.

Yanking your suitcase over the lip of the door, you made your way into the room, stopping just behind him. "What-"

The words were erased from your tongue as you took in your surroundings. The room was gorgeous, and admittedly, pretty romantic. You were greeted by a small seating area and a low table decorated with rose petals and snacks. Looking further into the room, you could see you had your own private pool outside, intimate and moody with low lighting. The thing you had avoided recognizing though was perhaps the most obvious.

There was only one bed.

"Perfect," you croaked, completely exhausted by this whole situation. "Absolutely perfect."

"I could try to-"

"My guess is," you said slowly. "That they are so fully booked, that they won't be able to move us to a room with two queens."

"But you don't know that for sure," he said with a small nod, trying to convince himself. "I'll go to the front desk."

"Knock yourself out," you sighed, leaning against the wall to begin sliding slowly down it. It was time to accept defeat. "Better yet actually knock yourself out."

Changbin shot you a dirty look as he yanked the door open and disappeared from sight.

Too bad he was back within ten minutes.

"Let me guess," you smirked. "They are fully booked and won't be able to move us to a room with two queens?"

"You don't have to gloat," he pouted, plopping on the edge of the bed. Looking helplessly around the room, his focus landed on the two armchairs in the seating area (very much not a normal, pull-out couch.) "I can just make a pallet on the floor."

You felt a small pang in your chest. As much as you didn't want to admit you had any threads of care left for the man in front of you, you did. And unfortunately, you didn't want to condemn him to sleeping on the floor. "That wouldn't be fair to you."

"It is what it is," he sighed. "And I'm not going to subject you to laying in a bed with me when you don't even want us to be in the same room."

"Stop being dramatic," you scoffed, totally projecting. "We can make a pillow barrier. Plus, I really don't want to hear you complain and make me into the bad guy."

"Y/N," he groaned. "It's not like that."

You chewed on your lip, knowing it wasn't. Changbin had honestly been much more charitable than you had even tried being since the two of you had broken up. You had pinned most of the reasons for separating on him, so maybe he had taken it to heart.

Choosing to ignore his protests, you began to unpack instead. Leaving the top two drawers in the dresser open for him (a habit from when you were dating) you silently moved your clothing and essentials to various parts of the room.

"Do you mind if I shower first?" he asked. His tone was careful, as if he was waiting for you to explode.

You hated it.

"Go for it," you answered.

He moved quietly toward the bathroom, leaving you with only your thoughts as you heard the click of the lock.

Moving toward the bed, you shoved your face into a pillow to let loose a mix between a groan and scream. Sometimes it just helped to make nonsensical sounds when you were feeling frustrated.

It was difficult being around Changbin again. Even though the two of you had broken up, there were feelings there. You had been so desperately in love with him at one point, you just assumed you would be a little bit in love forever. You thought the two of you had been bulletproof, but in one evening of anger, you managed to break both your heart and his (and still clung to the rationalization that it was all his fault).

You knew who he was when you had started dating. Seo Changbin, member of Stray Kids, producer in 3racha, gym rat, and lastly, boyfriend. All of those things came first, and you were so, so tired of being the last checkbox on the list. After being cancelled on for maybe the hundredth time because there was some sort of work emergency, you had had enough. His things were waiting in boxes when he had eventually shown up, and you had endless reasons for why you didn't want to continue forward.

When he begged, you had shut him down. Looking back now, you knew it was because you were afraid. It was easier to have a hard break than admit that you were both flawed people who weren't trying hard enough. It was easier than actually making the effort and being uncomfortable. You werent't ready for that advanced level of vulnerability.

Changbin was one of the softest and squishiest individuals you had ever met, which made it even harder. Any form of neglect he had stumbled into subjecting you to had never came with a hard edge. When he apologized, he was genuinely sorry. He was too good and pure to have to deal with you being upset over something he loved. He dreamt of being an idol before he even knew you existed. It would be the best for both of you if you just stopped interfering in his success.

Maybe the thing that hurt you the most though was seeing how it seemingly didn't affect him. He continued forward like nothing had happened, even treating you as a friend whenever you happened to run in the same circles. That was when you decided you couldn't like him, even if you loved him. It was easier to be annoyed than show how hurt it made you.

It was sick to say that you had wanted him to be just as miserable and lost as you were.

As you heard the water cut off, you pushed your face away from the pillow and took a deep breath. It was just a quick trip. You could be cordial for the sake of your friends.

You heard him before you saw him. With the phone glued to his ear, he was chuckling at someone on the other line. It was difficult not to ogle at the water droplets still decorating his shoulders and collar bone, even though he was technically fully dressed in a tank top and shorts.

"We need to redo the guide," he instructed. "I might be able to break away for a little bit and record something.

Yes, I know I'm on vacation, but we're already behind."

After a few more minutes of arguing, he hung up, and tossed his phone onto the bed.

You couldn't help yourself. "Was it worth it?"

"Hm?" he asked. You knew he had to pull himself out of his own thoughts before he could address yours.

"Was it worth it?" you repeated, crossing your arms.

"The shower?" he asked, lifting his brows and smiling his patented one-sided smirk. "Absolutely."

"No," you croaked. "Working. On vacations, in what's supposed to be your free time. Was it all worth it?"

He plopped on the edge of the bed, keeping his back to you. "We're talking past - past tense here...aren't we? Not the call I was just on."

Your silence was answer enough.

"I like to think it was," he said quietly, tilting his head to the side as he made a hissing noise to reprimand himself. "But as days go by, the more and more I wonder if I was wrong."

You chewed on your lip, not at all knowing what answer you had expected, but that wasn't it.

Looking over his shoulder, he slowly pivoted his body to face yours. His expression softened as he said quietly, "Is that why you hate me?"

Your jaw dropped open as you floundered for one of your knee-jerk, cutting responses. His face conveyed such helplessness.

"...I don't hate you, Changbin," you said quietly. Surely, he had to know that.

"I don't think I would blame you if you did," he chuckled sadly. "I put just about everything before you, didn't I?"

"It wasn't a matter of putting things before me," you said slowly. "It was a matter of putting things before us. We were supposed to be a team."

The old adage that time heals all wounds was at least proving itself to be slightly true. It was definitely easier to speak on how you were feeling now that you had put some space between yourself and the initial confrontation.

Changbin nodded slowly. "I wanted to be better."

You tried to take the ice out of your tone. "I did too."

"Then why didn't we try?" he asked, looking toward you with watery eyes.

You tried to focus on your breathing. If Changbin cried, you were absolutely going to cry.

"I thought...I thought that I had done so badly as a boyfriend," he continued. "And that's why you treated me like I was an inconvenience once we broke up."

"You were an inconvenience," you grumbled. "Only because I was still so upset...and you were acting like everything was okay between us."

"I don't know how to act otherwise!" he contended. "We broke up and I still loved you. Treating you any other way would have hurt my heart, and I'm too selfish to do that on top of what was already done."

"Huh," you hiccupped, feeling the tears come despite your best efforts. "I really goofed, didn't I?"

"What do you mean?" he asked, furrowing his brows.

"I was the one who did the breaking up, Bin," you said quietly. "I tried to tell myself I shouldn't feel bad because it was your fault. You were the one who was always gone, but I didn't try to talk to you about it. I let it become this completely...other thing inside of me. It was like every time you cancelled, I added it to this stack until it finally tumbled over."

"But I should have realized on my own," he asserted, standing up to move closer to you. Dropping to his knees in front of you, he gathered your hands in his. Looking up through his lashes, you could see the toll the last few months had taken on him.

You were foolish to think he wasn't suffering in the same way you were.

"We can blame ourselves all day," you sniffed, finally letting the tears run over your cheeks. "But it doesn't change the fact that we broke up...and now we're here."

"So we un-break up," he mused, saying it as if it was the simplest thing in the world.

"Un-break up?" you muttered.

"Mhm," he hummed, easing up from his knees to sit beside you. Wrapping an arm around your shoulders, he tucked you into his side.

"It's not that easy," you hiccupped, shaking your head but making no attempt to untangle your body from his.

"Who says it can't be?"

"We're different people now, Bin," you maintained. "Do we even know if we can be that safe space for each other? It ended so poorly last time, and-"

"Because we let it!" he argued. "But we know now-"

"Do we?" you interrupted. "We don't actually know how to fix what happened. We walked away."

"And here we are, walking back," he chuckled, shaking his head. "We can try, really try...if you think it's worth it."

You chewed on your lip, looking toward him. His eyes were still a little puffy from his brief crying episode, but it was definitely the same Bin you had fallen in love with months ago. His dark hair was beginning to dry in its signature messy curls, and his even darker eyes watched you carefully. There was a fire there that had been extinguished for so long, seeing it again caused your heart to skip a beat. Now that you had opened the door, he would push as hard as possible to make his way back in.

"Y/N?"

"I may not be worth it," you laughed grimly. "But I know you are."

"I didn't know we were throwing a pity party," he teased. "I should have bought streamers."

"I take it back," you grumbled. "You aren't worth it."

Changbin's grin was wide as he wrapped his other arm around you and squeezed you tightly. "Of course, you're worth it, silly."

"So we're doing this," you whispered into his bare shoulder. The smell of his shower gel was still heavy on his skin, encouraging you to inhale deeply. For the first time in weeks, you felt at home.

"Hell yeah we are," he chimed. "We're going to do the shit out of this."

You laughed as you pulled away from him. You wanted to look into his eyes. He needed to understand.

"Starting now, we both promise to do better," you nodded slowly. He nodded along, eyes wide. "Which means, do you really have to work while you're here?"

He smirked, letting out a small chuckle. "Starting now, I am going to be so present in this relationship, you're going to get sick of me. You'll be begging for me to go to the studio."

"Somehow I doubt that," you sighed, lifting a hand to cradle his jaw. He tilted his face, nuzzling your palm before dropping a soft kiss there. "But I'm excited to see you try."

[harmonictechnicality]

*no rest for the wicked*

my teensy contribution to @thefreakandthehair's spicy six summer collection 💖 | word count: 3k | rating: T | ao3 link | also, this wouldn't exist if @chocoarts didn't send me a sketch that immediately set off sparklers in my brain so bless youuu ✨

Twenty-six hours. That’s how long Eddie has been up. Twenty-six hours and twelve minutes. The heaviness hanging in his eyes is medieval-level torturous, and the cramp in his left calf is probably permanent by now. 

A sane person who enjoys sleeping might be asking, ‘Why? Why put yourself through this when there’s a perfectly decent bed down the hall?’ And Eddie would be forced to reply back with two, simple words:

Concert. Tickets.

That’s right, Eddie is actively murdering his own brain cells to win two vip tickets on the radio. Twenty-seven hours ago, it seemed like a grand idea. Genius, even. It’s free and minimal effort - he just has to call the station every hour on the dot. No biggie, right?

Ha, sure. Tell that to the muscles in his eyelids.

“How much longer do you have?” Chrissy asks, snagging a magazine from the stack on the couch.

Eddie checks his watch. Huffs out a laugh. “Let’s just say, I could watch the entire Star Wars trilogy including the credits for each one.”

“Translating to...?”

“Seven-ish hours.” Robin quickly chimes. She pops out of her bedroom and joins Chrissy’s side, instantly threading their hands together. They share a look, one that makes Eddie believe in nice things, even in his state of misery. It’s their superpower, injecting their optimistic outlook into the atmosphere. Infectious in the best way. 

“I always forget that you speak fluent nerd.” Chrissy snorts.

“Ouch.” Robin gasps and pulls away, stomping off to their room. Too dramatic to be believable. “Get back to bed before I actually feel offended by that.”

Normally, Eddie is charmed by how hopelessly in love his roommates are with each other. But right now, they are his mortal enemies (well, tied with The Clock), because they get to sleep and he gets to stare at the lightbulb in the ceiling fan. Every now and then, it flickers, which never fails to startle him. 

Good. He desperately needs the extra alertness. 

Another forty-five minutes go by before anything noteworthy happens. Eddie’s other roommate gets off his night shift around one in the morning. The front door squeals as it opens, crackling all the adrenaline leftover in Eddie’s body. 

“Scared the shit out of me, man.” Which could’ve been a literal statement if Eddie hadn’t just taken a bathroom break.

“Gotta get this door fixed.” Steve says. That’s what he always says when it creaks. The reaction never changes, always skating his fingers over the door hinges, mouth twisting to the side. Hands on his hips in disapproval. Eddie has to look away before Steve breaks out his insufferably cute ‘foot tap’ routine. “Hey - why are you still up?”

Ah, yes. Just what Eddie needed. A reminder that it’s fucking late. He finds the energy (or common decency, who knows) to point at the phone. Then to the radio.

“You’re still doing that, huh?”

Eddie nods twice.

“Damn, I’ve never heard you this quiet.” Steve sounds genuinely surprised. A little too smug for Eddie’s liking. “Didn’t know your mouth could stay in a straight line for this long.”

There it is. The rich boy smartassery that will never die. Always lurking in the depths of his genetic makeup.

Eddie claps, total deadpan.

The conversation lulls while Steve messes around in the kitchen for a bit. He’s noisily opening cabinets and clanking dishes around in the sink. Eventually, he walks back into the living room with two beers. 

Both for him apparently. “Well, listen,” he starts out. Kicks his feet up on the coffee table. “I’m pretty wired after work, so if you need some company-”

“Six… hours… left.” Eddie musters out.

“Okay well, I doubt I’ll last that long. But I can give it a shot.”

Eddie smirks, raises both eyebrows. “There’s a dirty joke somewhere in there. Too tired to find it though.”

“Good to know the horny part of your mind is still awake.” Steve gives Eddie a small pat on the head. 

“Oh? That’s a good thing?”

“Depends on who you ask.”

“I’m asking you.” It’s too direct, Eddie hears it. And now it’s just Out There - his inability to flirt in a subtle way. And yeah, he could blame it on sleep deprivation, but he’s never been known for his mastery of ambiguity so…

The pause goes on long enough for the light to flicker again, the room growing darker with it. Steve takes a swig of his drink and smiles. “It’s good to know, Ed.”

The light flickers even darker.

Eddie is fully awake after that. Which could’ve been part of Steve’s plan - stimulate his brain with flirty comments and keep him up with those melty smiles. It’s no secret that Eddie turns into a hair-twirling loser around this guy. 

Even after living together for a year and seeing one another’s most disgusting habits, he still feels this way. Tight throat, stomach flips. Purely smitten in a way that would nauseate deadbeat poets.

In this moment, however, it’s a wonderful remedy to staying awake throughout the rest of the night. Much more effective than energy drinks and Tootsie Rolls.

Steve ends up on the floor, leaning against the edge of the couch. He sips another beer, recounting some bullshit that happened during his shift at the hotel. Eddie does his best impression of Listening to Steve’s stories, but the words are just buzzing around the glow of Steve’s hair and the shine on his lips. Nodding at seemingly appropriate times is all Eddie currently can offer.

“Sleeping with your eyes open, Munson?”

Eddie blinks hard. “Huh?”

“Creepy, but impressive.” Steve laughs, tapping his hand against Eddie’s leg. “You should add that to the Special Skills column on your resumé.”

“Bold of you to assume I have a resumé.”

They spend the next hour doing just that - adding useless skills to Eddie’s nonexistent resumé. It keeps them busy. Content. Steve smacks Eddie’s knee anytime he laughs, leaves his hand longer every time. Maybe that’s all in Eddie’s semi-dormant mind, especially since Steve shows casual affection to all of his friends. But the warmth of his palm is real enough to have Eddie fully committed to making Steve laugh as much as possible.

“What about… Expert Paper Clip Chain-Maker?” Steve suggests. 

Eddie stares at the chain in his hand, the one he was oblivious to creating. He whips it around like a lasso and then shrugs. “A bit wordy.”

“So you’re saying length matters?”

“Christ on toast, Harrington. You’re awfully quick to jump to that conclusion, aren’t you?”

Steve doesn’t answer, just starts laughing again. Eddie didn’t even need to tell a shitty joke this time. 

And when Steve’s hand hits his knee, sliding slightly up his thigh, Eddie laughs along with him. It’s the only way to cover up the heat rushing to his face.

Eddie enters the realm of delirium with three hours left in his challenge. He slumps onto the floor next to Steve, nudging his shoulder, staring into his sleep-heavy eyes. It’s four in the morning, inhibitions be damned.

“Do you think if you ever visit Europe, they’d call you Harring-metric-ton?” Eddie picks a piece of lint off Steve’s sleeve. Perfect excuse to reach out, move in closer.

Steve groans. “Yikes. But yes, that question keeps me up at night.”

“So that’s why you’re still awake. See, I knew it wasn’t because of my silly little concert tickets.” 

As soon as the words leave his lips, Eddie convinces himself that it’s the truth. Which is so dumb, so stupid. But this seed of insecurity keeps him going, fully projecting his assumptions onto Steve’s harmless comment. Somewhere deep down, buried underneath his exhaustion, Eddie knows it was a joke. But he can’t seem to shut up anymore.

“The riddle has been solved, folks! We finally know why Stevie here is still awake.” Eddie exclaims, flinging his arms out to the side. “Alert Scooby and the gang at once! Mystery Incorporated can finally pack up their magnifying glasses and pursue careers with better health insurance. Ones that covers vision costs this time. It’s what dear, ol' Velma deser-”

“Eddie.” Steve places a hand on Eddie’s arm, holding him still. Was he moving? Oh god, was he shaking? 

Fucking mortifying.

Steve’s thumb swipes across Eddie’s skin, tracing diagonal lines back and forth. “You’re rambling.”

“And you’re…” Eddie loses focus. He looks down at the hypnotic patterns that Steve is making. “There. Doing that.”

Steve stops briefly to flip Eddie’s hand over, starts tracing the lines in his palm instead. The pressure makes Eddie’s heart lurch up into his throat. He can feel it thumping in his neck, faster with every stroke of Steve’s fingers. All he wants to do is close his hand around them, keep Steve there for the rest of the night. Longer if he’d let him.

“I can stop if it’s weird.” Steve’s voice is so much quieter than it was earlier. 

Don’t stop. Eddie thinks. Can’t say it like that because gross. Humiliating and gross. “It’s not weird.”

Steve keeps his focus on the motion, Eddie does the same. They stay like this for a while, just watching. Intently staring over the invisible lines like pages in a novel. Eddie is pretty sure he’s breathing too loud, can hear it above the whistle in the air conditioner. Wonders if Steve can hear it too. 

Probably.

“That’s not why I’m staying awake.” Steve says, never breaking the pattern.

“No?”

“It’s who I’m staying awake for.”

Steve finally stops, right in the center of Eddie’s hand. The air in the room goes dense, weighted with acknowledgment. Something has changed and Eddie can feel it everywhere. 

He tilts forward, pulling his gaze away from his hand and up at Steve’s lips. If he weren’t stuck between half-awake and total-delirium, Eddie would just do it. Kiss Steve the way he’s always wanted to. Syrupy slow and deep. Savoring every second.

He could do it right now, right this second. But his focus starts drifting as he closes his eyes. “Did Chrissy tell you?” Eddie grumbles, almost unintelligible. 

“Tell me what?”

Eddie’s head falls, landing somewhere on Steve’s chest. He inhales the scent of laundry detergent (because Steve and Chrissy are the only avid laundry-doers in the apartment). It’s so soothing, drawing him further into a dreamlike place.

“Tell me what, Ed?”

“That I…” Eddie is nearly asleep before he can finish the thought. The confession:

‘That I’m crazy about you.’

Sunlight hits Eddie first, startles him so much that he jolts upward. Fully awake. It takes a few seconds of furiously rubbing his eyes before the dread kicks in. 

Morning.

It’s morning.

“Shit.”

Eddie fell asleep.

Steve fell asleep.

“Shitshitshit. So many shits!” He fumbles through the labyrinth of blankets and pillows around him, snatching his watch from the coffee table:

10:24 a.m.

“Goddamnit!”

Eddie sinks back down to the floor, clutching the phone that serves him no purpose anymore. All of those hours of waiting and calling for nothing. Even if general admission wasn’t already sold out, it’s not like Eddie could afford tickets on his own. He can barely keep up with his share of the rent. Chrissy had to cover for his grocery run last week and he still hasn’t paid her back.

It’s just so expected too - for him to fuck up like this. Always letting opportunities slip through the cracks, making careless mistakes. No one will be surprised that he failed at such a simple task like calling a fucking radio station.

Eddie sets the phone back on the table and cleans up the living room in a daze. Every now and then, he mutters under his breath about being a total moron. He stays relatively quiet for the most part though. No use in throwing a bitchfest while Steve is blissfully conked out three feet away.

Of course he looks good sleeping too, even in the midst of Eddie’s breakdown. Unfair.

Just before heading back to his room, Eddie hears that familiar door creak. Same one that always sets off Steve’s inner handyman tendencies. 

He looks back to see Chrissy padding towards him with a blanket wrapped around her. For someone who hasn’t had their mood-altering cup of coffee yet, she looks extremely pleased to see him. Maybe she knows about the fate of the concert tickets. Maybe this is an early-risers pity party.

Fucking yay.

“Chris, please don’t try to-”

His words are muffled by Chrissy throwing her arms (and blanket cape) around him. She’s so bouncy, the way she always gets with Robin whenever their favorite song comes on at the karaoke bar. He pats her on the back and clears his throat, still trying to piece together what this exchange could be about. However, Eddie is functioning on a few hours of sleep, so his cognitive skills are groggy at best.

She gives him one more squeeze and then looks up, positively gleaming. “I knew it! I knew it would finally happen!”

“That I’d screw up for the umpteenth time in my life? Gee thanks, Chris.” Eddie says.

“What are you talking about?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about you and Steve!” She whisper-yells back.

Was she snooping on them last night? He wouldn’t put it past her, snoopiness is the foundation of their friendship. Well, whatever Chrissy thought she saw, she’s wrong. Sure, Steve and Eddie flirted, both letting some potentially mutual feelings slip out.

But it was all cut short by Eddie passing out mid-flirt. God knows how Steve took that reaction. Probably assumed Eddie was so bored that he would rather sleep than makeout with him. Or worse, that Eddie was pretending to sleep to let him down easy.

Christ, he doesn’t wanna think about that right now. Not while he’s still mourning the loss of his precious tickets.

“Hate to break it to you, honeyjam, but nothing happened.” Eddie shakes his head, gesturing to Steve who hasn’t budged from the recliner. “It’s just me over here and Steve over there. No conjunction connecting us together in that way.”

He can already tell Chrissy isn’t buying it. She’s getting that little forehead wrinkle right above her eyebrows, just like an angry cartoon character. Her best attempt at intimidation. “You didn’t see what I saw.” 

“Gay desperation?”

“No, you jackass. Come here!”

Chrissy yanks Eddie into his bedroom, demanding for him to lock the door. He listens, mainly because the intimidation is starting to work a little. They sit at the edge of the bed and she begins to explain everything she saw:

Steve constructing a wall of blankets and pillows around Eddie to ensure he slept comfortably. Steve waiting by the phone, tapping his foot in that insufferably cute way that Eddie loves so much. Steve scoring the tickets, celebrating quietly to himself.

“How long were you standing at the door, weirdo?” Eddie teases her to avoid the way his stomach is twisting around her words. 

Chrissy shushes him and squeals. “And he kissed your cheek!”

“Liar.”

“He did, I swear! He kissed you on the cheek or the chin or the nose. I don't know which one for sure because my view was obstructed by all of your hair.”

Eddie instinctively combs his fingers through a few strands, undoing the knotted pieces. Not all of them, but enough to keep his hands busy while he thinks through this. Processing. “And you’re sure it wasn’t a dream?”

“Positive.”

“What about a hallucination? Didn’t Byers make a batch of those infamous brownies again?”

Chrissy gives a deep sigh. “Whatever. You’re hopeless.” She shrugs the blanket back over her arms and heads toward the door. More than a fair assessment, Eddie can’t argue even if he wanted to (he always does). 

He stares at the line of posters along his wall, letting Chrissy’s words replay over and over. Imagining what it might have felt like. If Steve’s breath was warm or if his lips were soft. Eddie wonders how it looked to have Steve dipping down to his level. Staying so quiet, so careful not to disturb him. The visuals swarm his head until there’s nothing left but Steve. 

Him and Steve. Connecting them together in that way after all.

So, Eddie gets up and walks back into the living room. He takes in the view of Steve curled up in the recliner, mouth slightly parted open. Chest falling with every sniffle, not quite a snore.

There’s so many emotions while looking at him. Eddie can’t just pin one down to fully comprehend what's going on. All he can do is repeat the scene that’s occupying his mind, settling in his bones.

“Here,” he whispers, placing another blanket across Steve’s lap. It’s feathery gentle, more than he intends for it to be. So gentle that Steve doesn’t shift or stir. 

Eddie takes a deep breath and bends down, close enough to notice all the little details. The ones he’s been too sheepish to indulge in before last night. 

The tiny hairs on Steve’s forearm. The creases in his t-shirt. The bit of dried toothpaste on his chin. None of it should make his cheeks feel this flushed, but they do.

He lets the rush of bravery wash through him as he kisses Steve on the tip of his nose. Just the way Steve must’ve done to him. It’s swift, lighter than he means for it to be. Barely touching. But it’s enough to switch his heart rate up a few notches, pulsing jumping in his wrist.

Eddie steps away, waiting to see if Steve wakes up. Not entirely sure if he wants that or if he’d rather keep this memory to himself. 

“Thanks… by the way.” Eddie adds, brushing the tips of his fingers over Steve’s hand. Wishing he could trace the lines in his palm. Rewind back to last night and pause it there indefinitely. “I’ll tell you again when you’re up, but yeah.”

“Thank you, Steve Harrington.”

[strawberry-milkbunny]

Naruto is my Roman Empire and I’ve been reading MadaTobi fanfics so these r my Founders Thoughts that nobody asked for:

- Tobirama had a crush on Madara and it PISSED HIM OFF like they def had hate sex at one point LMAO

- they literally worked together ur rlly gonna tell me they didn’t have SOME moments of civility btwn them?? (lowkey that’s wild tho having to see ur brother’s murderer everyday at work-I like Tobi but I’m just sayin)

I WANT A WORKPLACE SITCOM WITH THE FOUNDERS SJSKKSKS:

- Tobi doing experiments and scaring the villagers

- Tobi teaming up with Madara to make Hashi do work

- Hashi making flowers w/government documents

- Mito sipping tea while encouraging Tobi to revive the dead

- everyone in the Tower side eying the sexual tension btwn Madara and Tobi and them never denying they’ve fucked before

- Toka cackling in the background

- Hikaku spraying water at Madara like a cat every time he throws a temper tantrum

- Kagami popping in to make sure his clan head doesn’t kill his teacher PERFECT SITCOM MATERIAL

- totally personal preference: Naruto should’ve had more BLOOD AND GORE. I wanna see the grittiness and horror the shinobi world actually is and how revolutionary Naruto as a character is by choosing peace over violence. The only time we get that is Obito vs Kiri nin, Uchiha Massacre, Wave Arc, Orochimaru…before it turns into DBZ fights

I’ve said this before: Sasuke was in a seinen Naruto was in a shounen

- the warring states is literally the perfect place for exhibiting the horrors of war and humanity. Bloodline thieves, child hunting squads, GIVE. IT. TO. ME. Madara and Hashirama experiencing all of this and wanting PEACE FOR THEIR YOUNGER BROTHERS UGHHH ROBBERY‼️‼️

SORRY TW IMPLIED SA !!:

I HC that bloodline thieves is prob why Madara wears gloves….being a YOUNG (he’s been on the battlefield since he was 8??) powerful, prodigy and future clan head of a famous kekkai genkai it makes sense why he doesn’t like skin-contact/sexual repression and repulsion. And why we don’t see female Uchiha shinobi (excluding misogyny) simply bc there’s such a high risk of SA in this era

Moving on:

- Tobi and Izuna were jealous of how their brothers were being taken away. It goes past the senju/uchiha rivalry like they were just kids and were plain jealous.

- Madara and hashirama def share 1 brain cell LOLLL. Like they’re besties for a reason, Madara acts likes he smarter but nah he’s as much of an idiot as Hashi is. They’re both dreamers let these boys live and skip rocks together!!! 😭😭

- let’s be honest: Tobi built the village. Mans was doing ALL the logistics and infrastructure

- tobirama is soooo second son/eldest daughter coded it’s not even funny. The SPARE, serious and emotionless bc he needed to always clean up after his siblings, DUTIFUL, prob has a praise kink etc.

- Madara is an eldest daughter who also prob has a praise kink and touch starved

- NONE of the founders r well adjusted like they went from spending everyday of their lives at war to tryin bring peace and start essentially a ninja-revolution (PLS GO TO THERAPY)

- madara was just the most open about it: being isolated and feared by his own clan BC he was powerful, trying advocate for the village and peace, all while grieving for his last brother…yeah it makes sense y he went crazy or at least wanted to leave (fuck Kishimoto for that Kaguya bs and fuck Zetsu)

- I don’t actually believe he was trying destroy the village idkkk. I think he was trying to do an SNS aka using fighting as a way to communicate with Hashirama and well…yIkEs

- tobirama is 1000% unadjusted: mans literally created a Justu to revive the dead. You cannot tell me that doesn’t REEK of desperation and loneliness. He’s lit rally the OG mad scientist

- hashirama rlly thought sealing the Bijuu and giving them to each village was a good idea….sir WHO TF GIVES NUCLEAR WEAPONS TO SHINOBI???!! 😳😳

- I think hashirama and naruto lowkey can be summed up as: a powerful idealist. Which is a very dangerous combination. Take that how you will especially considering how shinobi thrive off of violence….it kinda makes sense how we ended up with canon Naruto

- Madara has a god complex and knows it. Hashirama has a god-complex and doesn’t know it. (God of Shinobi title def got to him and understandable)

- the founders failed and they know it. But I also kinda love it?? They’re so flawed and human as leaders and you can see how their mistakes drag into Canon Naruto. It also makes me so sad knowing that Konoha was built to prevent child soldiers and give protection only for it to actually be WORSE (Kakashi ITACHI SANNIN ik for a fact it must’ve hurt Hashi to know ur own granddaughter left the village)

Uchiha are: love is the death of duty while the Senju are: duty is the death of love and neither of them will forgive each other for picking one over the other‼️‼️‼️

- proving this ^^ w/Hashirama’s weird af characterization: aka him being a loveable idiot but at the same time CONGRATULATING Itachi for killing his own clan for Konoha…. I feel like that rlly showed me how much of a war veteran/shinobi Hashirama actually is and how he will always pick duty

- we were ROBBED of baby Kagami/hokage Kagami 😤😤😤 I’m sorry Kagami should’ve been made Hokage it just makes sense personality wise and politically wise. The only way I could see him not take it is bc he needed to be a clan leader/placate the Uchiha/help Hikaku.

- I wanna see him process the loss of his clan leader, teacher, and eventually friends to a point where Danzo takes his eyes

- everyone on Team Tobirama had a crush on Kagami at one point

- one of my fav HC: Tobi and Madara co-parenting Kagami. There’s no way Madara didn’t check up on Kagami being taught by THE senju which makes his defection hit harder for Kagami 😭😭

- BABY SANNIN ‼️‼️‼️ Tsunade was old enough to meet and remember Hashirama it makes sense that Oro and Jiraiya meet the founders

- omg could u imagine being Edo Tensei Hashirama?? Ur granddaughter’s weird friend revives u using the Jutsu ur brother invented that you specifically FORBID 😭😭

- Hashi and Tobi staring at Orochimaru like “you look familiar???” IT HAS SO MUCH COMEDIC POTENTIAL

- Mito revolutionized female shinobi like she’s def the reason ppl realized that girls can fight (Senju Toka was an exception) STAN MITO 🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️

- Mito pulled a Tsunade and mentally yeeted out of Konoha after Hashi and Tobi died. Bc the way we NEVER hear about her and Hiruzen interacting except for Kushina, even tho she’s literally RELATED to the other 2 hokages….ROBBED 😵‍💫

- I HC: she was dealing w/grief (the fall of Uzushio made it worse) and she was lowkey pushed out of the council by Danzo FUCK DANZO

- I love the idea of Mito wooing for Hashirama’s hand/politically smart Mito!! It was a political marriage that grew into love. There’s no way she DIDNT suspect an attack on Uzushio lik it’s literally an island w/Kiri as it’s neighbours….Konoha gets recognition and stability while Uzushio importantly gets mainland allies

- Mito tops btw she’s def pegged Hashi before 🫢

- if Madara or Hashi had sisters/born women they would’ve def had a marriage to solidify their alliance. This makes Japanese homophobia not make sense esp in the shinobi world bc their clans trusted each other w/o backup like marriage?? Idk I’m just kinda confused y it was never even brought up for an alliance…

*cue MadaTobi arranged marriage au 100k, enemies to lovers, slowburn*

- also to dude bros homophobia has no place in the Naruto world (and IRL BTW) outside of making heirs. They’re literally MERCENARIES You telling me Kakashi has never fucked another man for information before??? Pls be serious I’m begging y’all 🙃🙃🙃

- there’s def family drama amongst the senju!! Idk I feel like Hashirama and Tobirama have the relationship of: “they love each other but don’t like each other” which makes Madara’s inclusion even worse for the brothers’ relationship. Like they def always had each other’s backs but never actually felt like they understood each other.

- I wish more fanfics/canon covered the shinobi-civilian politics more (I love politics lol give me world-building kishimoto 😤)

- Civilians hold power. THEY have all the MONEY to pay shinobi

- I’ve rlly only seen 1 fanfic that involves the Fire Daimyo during the Warring States Era (Into the Wide Blue Yonder it’s a KakaSasu Time travel fic that actually ✨works✨ 12/10 recommend) but it’s true.

Wtf is the Fire Daimyo doing during this era??? Why is he being so placate about Senju/Uchiha war unless he just sees it as entertainment?? How have shinobi NOT fought against rich civilian politicians before?? (Introducing Maoism to the naruto world lol 🤔🤔)

- Kishimoto curse ur goldfish brain….

- the uchiha and senju were def broke in this era, LMAO especially the Uchiha and I mean resource wise. War is EXPENSIVE the Uchiha don’t have Hashirama and Mokutan, they couldn’t just grow food whenever they wanted. It makes total sense that they would agree to a ceasefire just to prevent STARVATION

- once again…. robbed in terms of seeing the aftermath and devastation of war and learning how to live in a morally grey, politically unstable, resource limited world which could’ve brought in the ultimate themes of peace and the cycle of violence, and the question of if violence and war is ever justified, but…..no ❤️

[fagckity]

quackity x ftm reader

Stress Relief

you and alex have been dating for almost 2 years, and you finally managed to move together.

alex isn’t a very social guy, he likes having time alone for himself, so even tho you two sleep together, your offices were separated so you could have time alone during the day.

Alex was usually the one who got stressed out the most, different projects, either done by him or his friends, or some hateful comments. When he was stressed you were the most loving boyfriend in world and you made sure he felt good. Sometimes you would blow him so that all the stress would go away at that moment, or maybe ride him.. anything to make him feel good.

But these days there were a lot of things that were stressing you out, uploading videos and college, and it was all overwhelming you. Alex notice that you weren’t being that excited about anything anymore, you used to yap about your day at night before you two went to sleep, but this last days, he just found you sleeping before your usual bedtime.

After realizing this, Alex had an idea. He decided to finish work earlier that day so he could at least awake at night.

he went to your shared room and he find you laying the bed looking at your phone.

You had dark circles under your eyes and visually you were overwhelmed by stress, Alex let out a giggle and hugged you from behind letting out a chuckle. He started kissing your neck and making you drop your cell phone. You were tired so you blurted out a rather cold reply, "What do you want...?" - you growled, Alex started to bite and suck your neck a little harder, until you couldn't be upset anymore, you just let yourself go.... 

And from one moment to the next he was on top of you completely naked as he pulled down your pajama shorts and put your legs over his shoulders. Before you could say anything he said a sweet “shhh príncipe stay still I will be gentle okay?” — and you nodded, giving him consent to keep going.

He started thrusting slowly in and out of your sloppy and wet cunt, alex noticed how it was squeezing him in and oh god it felt amazing for both you. — “oh my god..- I forgot how wet you can be chiquito.. puta madre..” — both of you were feeling amazing, Alex started going quicker than before and also started rubbing your clit trying to make you cum.. which was weird cause he always wanted the moment to last.. but you didn’t complain.

after a few minutes you couldn’t hold it any longer and let out a pathetic moan “Alex.. I.. I am close.. fuck..” — he nodded, he was also a moaning mess, as if he was the one getting fucked. — “me too baby.. oh my god..” — you came first, and quickly after that, Alex came inside you.

He pulled out, and thought it was over, you were panting and trying to take deep breaths until you felt him thrust inside again.. this time with no time to adjust, he just started thrusting at the same quick pace he had literally one minute ago. It was too much for you. — “Ale.. I can’t..” — you whimpered, he laughed between breaths and said — “shh don’t worry, I know you can. I just need to make sure to fuck every little stressing thought out of that pretty little brain okay?” — you could just moan and nod as a response, the feeling was amazing but it was a bit overwhelming. — “Good boy.” — he said.

this continued for hours, or at least you felt like it. You have lost the count of how many times he made you cum, you weren’t even thinking anymore, you were dumbfounded by his cock to the point you could only mumble non sense. Alex was definitely good in what he is doing, and it felt amazing.

You two finally couldn’t do anything more, both of you were tired, Alex gently pulled out and kissed your head. Carrying you to the bathroom and cleaning you up, at that moment you were just saying incoherent things and Alex was laughing at it as he took good care of you, like the amazing boyfriend he is. ———————-

This is my first post omg, I have this thing written since probably last week but I was embarrassed to create an account to share my delusional latenight thoughts.

it’s 8pm in London and it’s really cold aaa

[outletcrash]

My poison ivy! I'm extremely proud of this. backstory under the cut :)

its been in the back of my head that ivy is indian since forever. i literally have no clue why its just There. she's tamil specifically, because i have favoritism regarding the script its written with.. it tickles my brain...

anyways heres my Poison Ivy: Origins comic i made last night in like 3 hours.

(theres a section here on her early life and the backstory of her parents that im still workshopping. basically she was a bastard child that only her mom supported and they left for gotham)

Bhavani got a job as an accountant for a law firm on recommendation from an uncle who had a company that worked in Gotham (he was kinder to the pair). She was always gifted in math. Bhavani raised her daughter the best way she knew how, even without the support of her family. 

Pamela (now nicknamed Ivy due to multiple kids misreading her last name as Ivy. And she was very nature-focused even as a kid, digging in the dirt and identifying different kinds of trees using books she got at the Gotham Library with her mother) excelled in school, surpassing most of her peers. The pursuit of knowledge was the one thing she enjoyed. Her classmates were sticky and loud and irritating, and when she wasn’t ignoring them she was tying their shoelaces together as revenge for talking too loud during quiet time. She managed to make just enough casual friends to not worry her mother too deeply, but this was the start of a downward spiral.

She lost friends, and not many could take on the effort of befriending her. She lost herself in biology, the study of life. Especially plants and conservation. Plants were just so… simple, compared to human society. But their structures and functions and genetics were fascinating. She skipped grades to take higher-level classes on genetics. Her grades were phenomenal but her social skills were extremely underdeveloped. Not like Ivy cared. Humans were a plague on this earth, pumping the atmosphere with CO2 and poisoning rivers and cutting down forests. In her mind, they did nothing but harm the serenity of nature she so cherished. 

After graduating with a PHD and doctorate, she got a job as a genetic engineer. She studied alternative ways to help regrow ecosystems after deforestation. Her Gotham University coworkers were wary around Ivy. She was a woman none of them knew anything about, who would say ecoterrorist-aligned comments offhandedly the few times she ever spoke. 

Ivy was working on a genetically engineered plant on the day of the accident. It was designed to nurture plant species by sending chemical signals, and it took in energy through waste products left by deforestation and manufacturing. At least, in theory. 

Ivy was working all alone in the lab at 2am. She hadn’t slept for hours, she was so close to her breakthrough. She was so close to making those billionaire bastards pay for what they did to the earth. She wasn’t wearing proper safety equipment nor using proper containment procedures during the incident. And as such, she was infected. The plant didn’t just take in waste material, it took in living flesh. Ivy’s cells were transformed in a gruesome fashion, her entire genetic code was re-written as it spread through her body. Her skin was green and her lab coat was bloody. Her newly-red hair flowed behind her as she escaped the lab, running through university grounds. Each footstep brought grass and dandelions cracking through the concrete in full bloom. Trees and grass grew to get closer to her, reaching for her. 

Ivys powers were completely out of control. She was crying and hyperventilating as her mind was warped. It had given her a need for flesh. When she made it to Robinson park, she couldn’t overcome the primal instinct. Plants still crawling at her ankles, and she killed a squirrel with her bare hands and ate it raw. This only fueled her fractured mind to want more. Ivy's first ever murder was a pedestrian, who just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. He tried to flee when he saw a bloody green woman with a squirrel carcass in her mouth, but it was to no avail. He was strangled to death with poison ivy vines, and eaten. 

Finally, the primal instinct was satiated. Ivy escaped to a warehouse in the industrial district of Old Gotham. She tended to her injuries as best she could, soon discovering she had healing abilities. The injuries from her being torn apart had already mostly healed. She slept on an old couch, dreaming about what she could use these powers for. 

When the news broke on the mysterious and grisly death of a random pedestrian, the media was all over it. Since he was killed by poison ivy, and from security footage the culprit was seemingly a woman, the media dubbed her Poison Ivy. Many believed it wasn’t possible, and that the footage was faked, but the GCPD was stumped. 

Batman looked through the footage and, by process of elimination (matching the appearances of the scientists who had access to the laboratory, keycard scanners throughout that day and evening, as well as their known affiliations and potential criminal history. Two of them did deal weed but it was nonviolent and they didn’t match the woman in the tapes.) 

Dr. Pamela Iyer was the clear suspect. She matched the woman's appearance (besides the green skin and hair, she was a tall woman with long straight hair and a flat nose.) Batman interviewed her coworkers and found she had a history of being antisocial with eco terrorist beliefs. None of them knew where she lived, however. And when the bat interviewed her mother (the only person her coworkers had ever heard her speak to in a positive light) she was very concerned. Suspicious of Batman, clearly, but worried for her precious daughter's well being. She said that Pamela had always loved being near nature, and that she didn’t care for the quality of structure she had to stay in. But other than that, her mother couldn't help. She does bring out the intimidating motherly stare at Batman, making him promise to bring her daughter home safely. 

From here, Batman goes on a search. He prowls rooftops and streets and uses the grappling hook for fast travel. All while monitoring city-wide security cameras (thanks Alfred!) and paying attention to police radio. He stops muggings and thefts and helps get a cat out of a tree as he scans Old Gotham. 

He came to the conclusion Poison Ivy must be in Old Gotham due to damage on the Robinson Park Bridge, connecting Somerset with the southern island. The damage matched with what had been seen on the sidewalks and streets near the University and the scene of the crime. Dandelions and crabgrass taking the shape of human footprints, cracking through concrete. Batman notices some trees down a certain alleyway in the east streets are warped inwards. Very similar to the trees in the park and university. He follows the unusual growth pattern of the trees, like they were hands outstretching to reach a light source. 

There, he finds an old warehouse. He scales the building with a grappling hook, not wanting to be ambushed on the lower levels if he enters on the boarded up front door.  Entering through an old broken skylight, he finds what must've been a long abandoned drug dealer hideout covered in fresh blood. Very, very carefully, he examines the scene. But there's nobody there. She just got away, her blood on the rotting old sofa is still warm. He also notes three strands of long red hair, which he places in crime scene baggies for DNA analysis. 

His current theory is that the doctor was mutated by her own research. He read her notes and the plant she was experimenting with was extremely dangerous. And the security footage (before it cut out during what he believes was the time of the accident) showed her using improper safety equipment. 

He’s on patrol for hours, but can’t find any sign of her. 

That night, Bruce synthesizes a pesticide-like chemical that could prevent Ivy's powers. However, he talks to Alfred about how the plant would adapt to it almost like a bacteria, and that it might not be effective more than once. 

The next morning Bruce Wayne is scheduled for a charity event. Many rich people are there tied to a business venture Wayne was not aware of. The event was for funding for healthcare systems in Gotham. Little does he know, this is the exact place Ivy plans to attack. She’s hated the rich for years and many politicians and businessmen that support an amazon rainforest deforestation project are there. 

She interrupts their little charity event at a historical building in the financial district of old gotham with a surprise. Ivy broke into one of her old greenhouses at the university, taking small samples of extremely poisonous amazon rainforest plants with her. This happened quickly and silently while Bruce was still at the function. 

Ivy crashed through the large art-nouveau stained glass windows, supported by giant vines. She is lifted down the staircase like she was floating, more vines and deadly plants crawling in from the giant hole in the glass, moonlight from the full moon peeking through the clouds and illuminating her entrance. London Planetrees from around the building grow in front of doors, sealing all the possible exits. 

All of the rich and fancy people in dresses and suits meandering around the building are screaming and trying to run, which is when a mad-with-power Ivy releases her plants. 

They grow to gargantuan sizes in moments, releasing toxic spores and fumes and burning people's skin. Ivy finds the most heinous offenders of the rainforest bill and feeds them deadly plants by hand, graphic symptoms ensue. 

In the pandemonium, Bruce pulls out some tree facts about the flammability of a certain species, managing to throw a fire source directly at it as a diversion before escaping through a vent in the opposite wing of the hall. Alfred is already outside with the Batsuit, he brought it as soon as he learned of the attack. 

Bruce suits up and re-enters. It's a grueling and difficult battle, the most difficult he has fought so far. He manages to spray Ivy with the chemical, and she goes down, all the plants in the hall going still. The excessive toxic fumes suddenly go back to normal levels. Bruce uses an extremely strong tranquilizer on her, she’s still fighting to get up. Finally, Ivy is defeated.

Almost the whole charity gathering was injured in the attack with seven people dead and immense damage done to the structure of the historical hall. 

Ivy’s powers are sedated and she’s taken into police custody, where she is deemed insane. Half of the insanity conviction was her actual insanity and the other half was that Arkham is the only facility capable of holding her, especially since it’s located on an island. Batman agrees with Jim Gordon on this comment. 

Ivy didn’t say anything during her trial, silently glaring with little remorse. The physician diagnosed her with ASPD (which wasn’t right but it's on her legal documents.)

The comic ends with Ivy in Arkham, talking about the rich swine tearing apart the world, and how she finally has the power to stop them. How she can feel the mutation inside of her slowly winning against the sedative drugs, adapting and consuming the chemical to turn it into energy as it was designed to do. How she will return the world to ecologic harmony, with her own hands. It ends with her in the Arkham cafeteria, staring at a mysterious blonde prisoner a few tables across…

the writing isn't like, a fanfiction. its a guideline for a comic in a series of origins comics im planning. do not get your hopes up these'll be done in like, 10-20 years at my current speed. i have a scarecrow and riddler outline in the works, and plans for a batman, joker, harley quinn and probably a penguin comic eventually. and more villians. once i'm done with all the origins comics i'll be doing like, a regular batman series. just for fun yknow.

[someslothcheese]

Some more Zombie AU designs *kicks feet* (Headcanon under the cut (it's long!!!))

Vik, he's a wandering trader that likely travels alone,(or with the other Brits -like Apple and Ozza- still thinking). He's the guy you trade with and immediately say "What a weird guy" and assume that's the last you'll ever see of him because he's definitely gonna die. He never seems to though, and keeps popping up with more and more bags of stuff at the most random places at the most random times. He's not skilled in any way and is extremely loud. No one understands how he lives.

Speedy I like to think is an escaped convict, idk what crimes he's doing but the idea he's this super shady guy who is one of the few remaining is appealing to my brain. I think he doesn't trust anyone at first, excluding Side - the two of them are "raiders" and trick or threaten people into handing over their loot. Speedy meets the main group by pretending to be a chill guy, infiltrating and trying to subtly get them killed, using loud weapons, accidentally eating someone's food, tripping you into a zombie - stuff that's shifty but you can't exactly say he's doing to hurt you. Eventually, he decides he likes the group enough to not harm them.

Sidearms is a wildcard, he wears a full biker suit and really sucks at driving his motorbike. He never takes off his helmet and for some reason is too good at shooting a sniper. He helps Speedy out of Prison on the second day (he's still locked in his cell - Side is looting) and the two of them work together from there. He's friendly enough but also wants to live. Courtilly is in the main group, she has a revolver that Chilled doesn't like her using (it's too loud!!) and is really skilled at climbing around. She's the best at getting a read on people but never trusts her gut instinct. She spends too much time dealing with Cheesy, Junk and Chilled to keep a clear head - but she has a good eye. The more people that get added it gets both easier to stay alert and easier to get distracted in conversation. Ze has always been a good ally to her though. Junkyard is literally some random ass man the group meets, though probably the first member to get added. He's replaced his leg with some mechanical thinga-ma-bobs because he got a bite on it and now lives in the city quiet and alone. He probably had others here but he's alone now, he helps the group navigate through the city of zombies and upon saying goodbye they insist he comes with them. Though he'd like to stay and keep clearing the streets for anyone else who may be there, he decides it's better to move with people he knows are alive rather then ghosts and thoughts.

Also tried to use their among us colours in their designs.

[xihe1874]

So so sorry for the long wait, but the new chapter for Where Past and Future are Gathered is now ready!

I would like to extend my sincere gratitude to @ltfirecracker who was so kind to go through and edit my messy writing, and @stellarskyes who offered very helpful suggestion on Navy ranking and planes.

I am extremely grateful for everyone who bears with me and is still following this fic, everyone who is reading it right now, and anyone who will read it some points in the future. ❤️❤️

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Pairing: Iceman/Maverick, Rooster/Hangman, Carole/Goose

Rating: T

Word Count: 1723

Completed: No

Additional Tags: Angst, Fluff, Angst with a Happy Ending, Time Travel Fix-It, Pining, Ice's funeral mentioned, Goose's death mentioned, but everyone will live, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Cigarettes, Father-Son Relationship, Mother-Son Relationship, POV Bradley, Basically Bradley goes back to 1986 and fixes many things, Eventual Romance, Butterfly Effect what Butterfly Effect, Hurt/ComfortIdiots in Love, Getting Together

===================================================

Maverick.

Pete Mitchell.

…Maverick.

The string of names chants in Iceman’s brain over and over, like a broken record. Like the smell of smoke that lingers on his skin and refuses to be wiped away.

Pete Mitchell.

The said pilot is now making obvious eyes at the blonde bombshell, who also happens to be their instructor, while bragging about the unbelievable interaction with the MiG and preening himself, almost.

Unbelievable as the interaction may be, Ice finds himself buying it the moment the other mentiones the encounter.

It has to be him. The mysterious protagonist in that widespread gossip in the Navy, the daredevil adventurer. 

It has to be Maverick.

The man is like wildfire. A wild card, with his blazing emerald eyes and crooked grin.

Ice hasn’t got the chance to see him fly, but it’s beyond all doubt that he will be like a lunatic. 

Impulsive. Brainless. Unreasonable. Stupid.

Dangerous.

…Attractive as hell.

Dangerous.

Last night at the O’Club, Ice spotted him the second the duo walked inside the bar. The pretty girl beside him was speaking, but his attention was entirely concentrated on the other pilot. The sunglasses did a good job of hiding his line of vision, but all the cells in Ice were pulled towards the same object anyway.

So he walked up and leaned forward, literally invading the other’s personal space. He said something foolish about the better pilot, maybe, and deliberately ignored Ron’s eloquent look pointed his way. 

The only thing he noticed was how bright Maverick’s eyes were.

Dangerous.

Iceman tears his eyes away and starts to watch the so-called intern, who is now sitting on a small wooden bench beside Goose.

There is something about this man that Ice finds bizarre - something out of place, although he can’t put his finger on what has gone wrong. Rooster, he called himself. A distant relative of Goose, he said. But those covert, sorrowful, and perturbed glances? Not quite how you would look at someone who you only met yesterday, even if you somehow share a great-great-grandfather or something.

Speaking of, now the same glances are being directed at Maverick. 

The intern is sitting perfectly straight with a neutral face, but Iceman is too familiar with stealthy peeks to ignore those signs.That guy probably needs a pair of sunglasses. And something is definitely off.

Is Iceman curious about the reason?

Yes. And no.

[ace-antagonist-writes]

Maybe someday soon,

Word count: 3.7k

Summary: After your team’s plans literally go up in smoke, a tense car ride leads into a much tenser situation with a certain natural disaster. (Vash and Reader are both hopeless romantics)

A/N: First actual post on this acc and I’m here to help clear out my Trigun brain rot, might make a part 2 if anyones interested. Also, I wrote this with the OG/ Badlands designs in mind but you could probably imagine other Vash to this as well! (this is also unedited since i hate rereading my own work-)

.

.

.

You’d think it was deadly for a human to run this hot. Maybe it was and maybe you’d drop dead from embarrassment if this would continue, who was to say?

The day had started any other way it had for the last few months. A lone desert horizon staring back at you as your little caravan traveled to a nearby city to take refuge before nightfall hit. Boredom hung over your head like a cloud of dust, so you began to look sound in the small enclosure. The van was high-strung with bated breath, the tension a cough away from popping poor Meryl’s temper. If you hadn’t been so terrified of the feisty woman, you could’ve snorted at the red vein barely visible on her cheek from your backseat angle. Desperate to find something else to focus on, your eyes drifted to Milly in the passenger seat blissfully unaware of the situation. You flashed her a smile when your eyes met in the mirror and she happily returned it before spacing off again on who knows what.

Now here came the hard part.

It was a wonder the silence had managed to dwell so long with the noisy blond and priest sitting beside you. Perhaps the two brain cells the three of you seldom shared–one of which you held on to the longest and the other bounced between the males– sparked together and formed a quiet game of who could outlast Meryl’s rage the longest. Nevertheless, your confidence held strong as you looked to cast a glance at Wolfwood in the opposite window seat. He was turned fully to the window, wispy stripes of dark hair obscuring most of his profile and hand holding up his chin. Thinking you were in the clear of not breaking into laughter looking at him you flicked your gaze onto the window.

Oh no. The two of you had formulated the same idea and were now staring at one another’s blank-faced reflection in the window. The dark tan of his skin pinched together and furrowed at the crease of his nose, clearly taken aback by the reflection as he struggled to re-straighten his face. You quickly turned your head as conspicuously as you could and placed your forehead on the warmed glass. A hearty smile had slipped its way across your face, what a goofball. It was embarrassing how attached you had gotten to everyone in such an objectively short time. Even with the scoldings included, you never once lost any amount of love for any of your friends. There was nothing you would trade for moments like this, despite having grated on Meryl’s nerves the entire morning before now. But to be fair, it was a bit of her fault as well for carrying a humanoid typhoon across No Man’s Land for this long. Insurance company be damned if you were in her place, the amount of times you’ve almost gotten stitched up would’ve put you into early retirement long ago.

….Speaking of the Humanoid typhoon,

Snapping out of your pondering state, you came to realize the silence had strangely returned. You glanced to your left, trying to spare a peek at your agitated driver to see if she was still ill-tempered. You got you answer with haste as her eyes raced to meet your curious ones peering at her through the side mirrors of the vehicle. It was like the devil himself snagged your heart out of your chest as your eyes spasmed trying to grasp at anything else within your range of view. How was someone barely up to your shoulder so scary?? The peeling leather of her seat is what dragged you back away from her wrathful glare, and even then you could’ve sworn the heat from it dug a hole through the sweat of your brow. Maybe it would be best if you didn’t follow your mind’s wonderings and left Vash in the back of your head. Yet as the harsh red of his mangy jacket appeared for a split second in your peripherals, you knew you were a goner. To make things worse, a subtle scraping made itself known alongside the white noise of the van. It was dull and flaky, not unlike the scratching of… a paint brush? Your noise scrunched up in thought as you looked for the source. Milly met you halfway when turning to her, casting a copy of your pensiveness right back as she peek over her shoulder. A honeyed eyebrow rose in a silent question before her gaze shifted up.

A loud clap sent a jolt through the backseat riders up and into a state of alert as Milly slapped a single hand over her mouth. Your own eyebrows kissed the beginnings of your hairline as you reared back in your seat a bit, slowly ascending your head to what she was turning an alarming shade of red at. On the way, you made eye contact again with the equally wired priest across from you. Only briefly sparring a single glance, you both looked up.

You don’t know whether it was due to the unbearable lack of entertainment or if it was just that funny, but only the lord knows how hard of a cacophonous laugh erupted from you either way. Poor, poor tall and lanky Vash sat stiff as a board between Wolfwood and you, caked in soot from the disaster the group had just come from. Wherever the dark graininess hadn’t settled, a brilliant red matching his iconic coat painted his sun-kissed skin. And his hair, the bristled blond strands smushed and sprang outwards, creating the illusion of an angry red pineapple as he slightly swished back and forth with the swaying of the van. Vash looked to be struggling more than you and the priest had–seeing as he had to stare at his reflection through the rearview mirror the entire time since you all had. However, all hell had broke loose upon your cracking up as Vash and Wolfwood burst into cackles and hollering. Tears poured out of all your eyes, soaking dried and dusty faces previously chapped from the heat. And if you had any sense left, you would’ve looked to see the expression on Meryl’s face beside the giggling Milly. Unfortunately, you didn’t get the chance and had to live on without knowing the exasperated smile inching across her face.

——————————————————-

.

.

.

"Why am I the only one in trouble?!" You found yourself wailing into the dark night as you trudged to the bar. "They laughed too Meryl!"

The woman's stride never paused as she walked in front of you with her back straight. Meryl scoffed back at you and dished out a single glance, "But who laughed first?"

"But-"

"Besides! We need someone sober enough to find the motel, and that will surely not be me after the little stunt you guys pulled in the last town!” She huffed a piece of her dark fringe away from her eyes and took a sharp turn, “I pray they weren’t set up with the company’s insurance plan, if so, this might be the last drinking session we can afford.”

You’d have to admit even though she was joking, you felt a little bad for Meryl. Maybe thats why for the rest of the way to the bar, you quietly sulked in front of the batch of traitors behind you. The two bubbly blondes and sleek priest were quiet as mice up until you all entered the bar– trying to camouflage into the darkness to avoid getting a ban on their drinking as well. Yet as soon as you all set foot in the bar, all four of your comrades hauled themselves to the bar and sparked the whole atmosphere of the room.

It was endearing in a way, even though you were a bit bitter you couldn’t be drunkenly stumbling over your words as you chatted the night away. But also if you had, you wouldn’t have been able to be fully enamored by a blond “maniac” who had managed to convince an equally drunk patron to dance with him on a table. You brought the back of your hand to your mouth and stifled the laugh building up in fear of being dragged up while sober enough to remember it happening.

However, all was in vain as you met a pair of teal downturned eyes looking straight at you. Vash was clearly plastered, but somehow managed to start working his way to you without stumbling out of his boots. His laughter made your brain work overtime to keep up with your heart running like a bat out of hell. You were certain that someone could hear the noise as you frantically darted your eyes around to divert your attention away from Vash. The drunken man was not even a foot away from you when he tripped on his way to you. And you could swear for a split second, a brown pair of dress shoes was the object in question. The blonde, dazed and confused, limply fell forward and clung to you tightly. You could’ve died at that single moment.

He was warm, and not in the way the sands were. It was such a comforting warmth that your mind blanked when he had wrapped his arms around you. The noise from the bar faded into a dull hum as Vash fully engulfed your senses. His right arm slightly twitches around you, as if trying to pull you impossibly closer. A rhythmic thumping pulsed inside your chest, and you prayed that he wouldn’t be able to feel it through layers of clothes and burning skin. Your breath hitched as he grazed the side of your neck, slowly moving up and stopping just below your ear. You were sick with anticipation and he slowly opened his eyes to look at you before speaking,

.

.

“I really have to use the bathroom.”

Dear lord.

So here you were, holding up a blazing hot Vash who was thoughly struggling to find the ground beneath him. You tried not to look at him too long–you fear if you did you’d let him fall in the chilled sand after the stunt he’d pulled earlier. Your face was still scorched with the heat of embarrassment that should’ve been drunkenness. Nevertheless, you trudged forward and led the train of dazed insurance company workers, a buzzed priest, and a totaled outlaw. It seemed everyone lucked out since the walk wasn’t long at all, the rickety building coming up just short of 3 minutes away.

You reered your head around to shout the news, earning disgruntled groans and a half-hearted cheer from Milly. Old and tired wooden boards wailed underneath yours and Vash’s feet as you both stepped up at the same time. He losely threw his right arm out to reach the door handle, and even though he missed it by a wide mark, you appreciated the effort. Soft lights brighten and illuminate the small motel lobby as you all piled in. The front desk attendee was a pleasantly aged woman, gray wisps spiraling from under her hat and kissing the faint wrinkles of her forehead. You gave an exasperated smile as you lugged Vash forward, “Reservation for Stryfe?”

“Stryfe you say? Okay my dear, let me just look and see-” She leaned forward a bit towards the registry booklet, “Ah! There it is, let me get your keys sweetheart.”

You nodded as you felt a slight tug on your sleeve, glancing upwards you come face to face with a teary-eyed pout. A single brow of yours hitches up, signaling him to continue with whatever he was trying to get at.

“...I need to use the bathroom again.”

“You just went!”

“Please!!” The lanky man twisted you around the best he could, “You don’t want my bladder to explode do you??”

You bit your tongue to not mutter a yes and send the blonde into a crying fit, instead slamming your hand over the first key you saw presented. With a labored huff you turned to Milly, currently the least drunk of the trio bracing themselves against the wall, “Mills, you think you can manage getting you three to your rooms while I’m gone?”

To which she reply with a lazy salute and a “You can count on me!” before grabbing two other keys and darting off with Meryl and Wolfwood draped on her shoulders. What a sweet girl.

And now to deal with your not-so-sweet outlaw that you hurriedly pull to the room where he would be staying. You’d nearly dropped and lost the key in hand when he dramatically clutched his stomach and shouted in the long hallway. Scared out of your skin, you turn to him in fear he actually wasn’t playing with you earlier about the bladder situation; but were met with a sly smile at the shocked expression displayed on your face. You huffed and tugged at him again, trying not to indulge in his antics. Undeterred, he let out another shrill yell as you dragged him closer to his room,

“HELP, HELP! It’s Vash the Sta-mmph!”

You slap a swift hand over his mouth and shove him into the newly opened door, locking it behind you. Red-faced, you shoot a dead glare at the spindly man currently splayed out in front of you. Vash’s lips twist into a playful wobbly smile as he stares up at you, only to shapely point downwards when you point to the bathroom door. His eyebrows crease his sunburnt skin in a sad attempt to imitate a kicked puppy–yet he relents and gives up when a vein makes itself present on your temple. Well after he’s settled into the bathroom, you lean against the wall to catch your breath for a brief second. How in the world was he this hopeless? You’d have to give it to him despite how agitated you were at his earlier stunt, his hopelessness was endearing in a way. A tired hand swiped the sweat from your brow as you flush faintly, god he would be the death of you. A muffled thunk from the other side of the bathroom door rips you from pondering about the culprit at hand. Hopefully Vash would be competent enough to figure out how to survive on his own until daybreak. You push off the wall and leave the room, starting off back down the hall to claim your room key so you can finally retire to bed.

The walk was ten times short without dragging drunken extra luggage on your shoulder throughout the halls. You stop at the front desk, which was now missing the woman attending it just a few minutes ago. It was eerily silent in the lobby, with no one being up and lounging about the area. At a sudden creak, your head swivels to a door not far away from the desk. Seemingly oblivious to your figure standing awkwardly behind the table, the young man glides to a drawer obscured front desk. He pulls out a booklet resembling the registration sheet the kind woman had checked form. The new attendee acknowledges your existence with a sparring glance,

“Name?”

The suddeness of his statement was enough to spike your nerves, “Ah! Oh, registration for Stryfe please! I’m here to pick up the fourth key?”

His eyes narrowed for a split second, “Four? There’s only three in the registry for Stryfe.”

“What?? Surely there must’ve been a mistake, there’s five of us with two sharing a room!” You mentally made a note to hide Meryl’s handover medicine if what the attendee said was true, that you would have to bunk with a clingy blond for the night. The man behind the counter just sighed tiredly at you,

“I’m sorry, but we don’t have any more openings left for the night. You’d have to sleep in one of the other reserved rooms.”

Your ears burned with embarrassment, “Can you at least tell me the other two room numbers?” Maybe you could bribe Wolfwood with the promise of another pack of cigarettes in exchange for a room to yourself.

Unfortunately, the attendee had made it his momentary pleasure to crush your pipe-dreaming. He slowly blinked at you, “Are you Meryl Stryfe?”

“...No?”

“Then I am sorry, we cannot disclose room patrons without consent of the booker themselves. Have a nice night.”

“You’ve gotta be joking me.”

“Not paid enough to do so, unfortunately.” He looked a good decade older as he muttered the statement to you through gritted teeth, “Have a nice night.”

And with that, your one-sided argument came to a close as you had no choice but to secede. In all honesty, you could pass out in the hallway and call it a day with all the walking going on. You wish you knew why this felt so nerve racking, he was your friend and the same went for you—or at least you hoped. Yet, the blonde had such a baffling way of turning your whole world upside down without even trying. It intimidated you just as much as it made your heart flutter. He was so breathtaking, enough to piss you off in a jealous haze if you weren’t his friend. You were set in stone on this revelation, and nothing would be able to shake that away from your perception of Vash. The door knob contrasts your warm palms as you open the frigid door.

Upon opening it, the world seems to instantaneously freeze when you come face to face with a half-dressed outlaw. You didn’t even have time to truly process his reaction, and dignity be damned at this point. Your eyes nailed themselves to Vash’s torso like they were meant to be there; and if you were actually cognitive, you would’ve chastised yourself for staring so shamelessly. But in all honesty, could you be blamed for looking?

Yes, you were hurt by the mangled skin of his body with pink skin coating the sunny canvas of his chest. And yes, you knew somewhere in the back of your mind you would shed tears for every one of them you hadn’t saw happen admits your journey together. But dear lord above, was he ethereal. The lankiness you normally associated with him was heavily disproven from what you could clearly see now. He was sturdily built—even with his arms frozen in a pose reaching for his backpack— and astonishingly lean. There were so many words you wished to say, to voice your unconscious fawning over him. You opened your mouth slowly and dazed,

“Vash, yo-”

“DON’T LOOK DON’T LOOK!” He shrieked out, arms flying up to cover anything they could.

Your hands sounded like gunshots as they collided against your eyes. Stupid, stupid! Everything that had echoed dully in your brain crashed together in a cacophonous tragedy as you came to your senses. And by the sounds of it, Vash found himself in the same predicament. Audible thrashes and shrill “eeks!” were the only way you could tell he still remained in the room. He quieted down a bit as he rummaged through his bag—for a shirt you predicted. There was no doubt in your mind he was sober from your shared mental breakdown, albeit one was far more vocal than the other. You felt ashamed in your actions, and were no better than a peeping Tom!

You scrambled to make an apology, something to atone for the embarrassing act you just committed against him. But before you could, he beat you to it.

“…I’m sorry you had to see that, I really am, it’s not a pretty sight and I’m sorry you-”

“That wasn’t what I was thinking at all,” You exhaled. “I was thinking about how pretty you were… in the…moonlight?”

It came out as a doubting question but the words you spoke couldn’t be any truer. Vash was extremely beautiful, far more than your words could ever tell.

…Meanwhile, he looked at you like you had just shot him in the foot at point blank range. His cheeks were a hazy flush and his eyes darted around your face crazily, looking at every single feature sitting upon it. You slightly shrunk under his intense surveying, a bit confused on what he was doing.

“Sooo, are you gonna say som-”

“YOU LOOK PRETTY TOO!” He jumped to cut you off and leaned forward a bit to accentuate his profession. The blush sitting on his cheeks flowed bashfully to his neck and chest—at least what wasn’t covered by his loose shirt— as he shifted nervously. “In the moonlight as well, I mean.” A cheeky smirk appeared after he spoke, as if he hadn’t fumbled as hard as you did.

What a tease.

“Is that why you were looking at me so hard? You liked what you saw as much as I did, hm?” You leaned forward a bit, mirroring his anxious actions.

“What’s not to like?” Vash’s smirk turned into a charming smile, “Women all across town would want a chance to get with the Humanoid Typhoon, you know!”

“Oh I know alright.” You roll your eyes in exasperation, “So what about me, I got a chance with Vash the Stampede?”

His face blew up in a furious blush again at your teasing tone, you got him. A snickered laugh bubbled from your chest as he tried to come up with something else so that he could win.

You can believe you were nervous to bunk with him for the night, did you seriously forget who he is? The laughter smothered all the attempts he made to make a jab at you, but you couldn’t focus on them anyway. Everything in your mind at the moment was swarming with him instead. Of his genuine laugh, of his jokes, of his lanky arms throwing themselves around you to give you a hug. Memories, thoughts, and words unspoken you always wanted to say just made you giggle all the more at him for just being. With all your heart, you wished he would have the same thoughts as you at least once.

And yet, if you weren’t so oblivious maybe you would’ve seen it.

Another lovestruck fool looking longingly at the one they fell head over heels for.

[oneatlatime]

The Cave of Two Lovers

I always wanted to be a frog on a leaf.

Does Aang have chaps?

Instructed to hold his arms closer together, Aang immediately spreads them as far apart as physically possible.

Hippies!

Chong's wife is not called Cheech. That's a travesty.

Between the 90s boy band hair and the quadrupedal underwear, Sokka is not looking his best this episode!

Uncle, were you watching? Did you see? Lookit Uncle I even threw in some fist shaking at god and a dramatic tumble. Did you watch? Lookitmeeeeeeee.

Seems like it's Zuko's turn with the brain cell. Iroh plays the dumbass a lot but he can't seriously be contemplating risking poisoning himself while he has zero resources.

Appa getting a turn as the couch rather than the whip. Sweet braids.

"Oh it's a real legend" is a remarkably accurate statement when speaking of oral folklore. Real v. Fake legends are an actual thing!

Did anyone watch Arthur growing up? Anyone remember the Crazy Bus song? I feel like this Tunnel song is what Crazy Bus was trying to be.

I like her skirt. Actually all of their clothes are pretty neat.

Why does Appa hate going underground?

That's got to be watercolour.

The stick is a better catch than the fish. It's a damn good stick.

Zuko actually managing to admit that he needs help! Or rather, that they need help. That's growth! Maybe that's why Iroh poisoned himself? Or maybe he's just having a dumb moment? Two consecutive dumb moments?

Do you think being unwanted in literally every country on earth including his own is going to be enough to convince Zuko that maybe his nation isn't so great?

Her earrings are bells. She probably deafens herself when she walks.

Why is the science guy freaking out about curses?

Chong's necklace flowers keep drastically changing size depending on how close up the shot is.

Average fire nation soldier is superstitious. I bet they can use that. And this guy's hands are huge. Also those flying grappling hook chain things are, in my opinion, the fire nation's greatest combat advantage. Who needs bending when you have those?

The math-defying torches apparently work like strike anywhere matches.

Definitely watching this one on a CRT when I have the chance. Too dark otherwise.

Can you do that? Turn a map of the paths you've taken into a solvable maze? Don't you need to see all possible paths to solve a maze?

Three things: a) I like Song's voice actress. Very pretty voice, matches the face well. b) Zuko being terminally awkward when needing to lie is something that's been consistent since the third episode. He really needs to work on that. c) There's a whole world of visual storytelling in the fact that, when hastily required to look natural, Zuko defaults to parade rest.

The latest fashion in men's neckwear.

I mean technically yeah, Zuko's dad is fighting in the war, but Good Lord are he and Song bonding over traumas from the 100% opposite directions.

They snuck in a Bob Dylan joke!?!?!

Poor Appa is having a time of it this episode.

Sokka would rather die in a self-inflicted rock slide than hang with the hippies. That's a very Sokka thing.

The lighting here is beautiful. All warm and glowy.

Poor Song. It's borderline embarrassing to watch how wrong she is. But at the same time, she's completely right. The Fire Nation did hurt Zuko. But the Fire Nation is Zuko. But Zuko was hurt by the Fire Nation. Zuko's brain must be inside out right now.

No touchy.

Why is Zuko surprised by her burns? Did he think his nation took over most of the world by asking nicely? Seriously, did he?

It's good to finally see more burns. Well, not good, but logical. I think I ranted last episode about why I was so surprised by the lack of burns.

I'm with Sokka on this one. There is a (very limited) time and a (very tiny) place for singalongs, and this isn't it. Also I keep thinking that Momo is wearing an Adidas tracksuit.

The last thing cave walls see before death.

What do you know, it is a real legend.

Pretty. This whole sequence is inky.

I love how this show does badass bitches.

How on brand is it that the city founded by think-outside-the-box badgermole wrassling innovators is now ruled by Bumi? Original thought, badass earthbender, giant murderous rabbit; he fits right in.

No kissing until you're 35. What a face though.

Aang STOP TALKING YOU CANNOT WIN!!!

What's wrong with you is that you're 12. No one is smooth at 12.

According to the episode The Storm, the avatar does in fact represent hope to Zuko, but Song just can't stop putting her foot in it. Literally any other earth kingdom refugee would come away from an evening with Song feeling renewed hope, but she's unintentionally and unknowingly hit pretty much every one of Zuko's sore spots. This must have been a very frustrating evening for him.

In case we forgot that Zuko was the villain, he steals a horse bird. Iroh why are you ok with this?

Ouch.

Where is your chin

Chong was right. All they did need to do was play music. These guys would probably kill me if I tried, but gosh they're so cute I want 5.

How many string instruments does Chong have stashed in his robe? His improv skills are top notch though.

You want me to believe that a couple of millennia of badgermoles rearranging things as they see fit has not altered the path of the crystals?

I feel ya buddy.

Sokka assuming his rightful throne. King of the Badgermoles.

Badgermoles have elf ears.

"Really? We let huge ferocious beasts lead our way." I love this line.

Appa's such a good friend. Settling in for a long listening session.

"So are you guys going to come to Omashu with us?" "Nope." "Ok." *fucks off into the sunset* Now that's how you write out a character.

NOOO BUMI!!!

Do you think the hippies knew? Is that why they didn't want to go to Omashu? It would be totally on brand for them to know the whole time and not tell.

Final Thoughts

Well that was a hell of a bait and switch ending. Supreme goof A-plot, Zuko having his dearly held beliefs dragged through the mud B-plot, and then suddenly *BOOM* overarching plot.

So is this season going to be the 'step on Zuko until he's decent' season? Because he's got a long way to go.

Why was Iroh being so stupid in the beginning? Does he have a blind spot where tea is concerned? He made Zuko look like the reasonable one. That's quite a feat.

At first glance, Sokka got to shine in this episode, but actually it was Chong who was right all along. There was a real legend about a secret tunnel, the solution was to trust in love, both as Aang & Katara did and as Chong's group tried (love songs). And that kid WAS the avatar! Three for Three!

I'm still not a fan of Aang & Katara being involved romantically (mostly because they're BABY), but I love the way they related to each other this episode. Their interactions felt 100% natural. What tween hasn't put their foot in their mouth around their crush?

Someone give Appa a hug. You know what? Give Momo a hug too. He worked hard as a wolfbat early alert system.

Speaking of Appa, are his underside sections furry? Covered in short grey fur? Or are they hard grey armoured plates? Are they shell or skin?

I've noticed that animal noises come in three flavours in this show: Appa grumbles, Momo trills, or wolfbat hisses. Most animals make variations of these three.

Are we sure Song hasn't been hitting the White Jade herself? Those are pretty similar.

Poor Song is really crapped on this episode. All she did was be compassionate and she gets her horse thing stolen. It makes sense that she wouldn't try to retrieve her horse thing, both because she's too kind, and because it's just her and her mom against two fairly rough guys. If this is the season of Zuko improvement, how many more innocents like Song will be crapped on in the name of improving Zuko?

Chong's robe's sleeve kind of hangs off his waist, since he's rocking the one shoulder look. I thought Bato was rocking that same look in his episode, and spent the whole episode looking for where he stashed his sleeve, but I couldn't find it. But now I see Chong with the same look and he definitely has extra sleeve trailing. So did Bato cut off his sleeve? Is he wearing the robe he was wearing when he got injured and his sleeve burned off? Is there a known way to tuck robe sleeves in inconspicuously and the fact that we can see Chong's is a bit of visual storytelling pointing to the hippies' general scatterbrained nature? Am I overthinking this?

I liked this episode! Definitely going on my rewatch list! The hippies are just the right amount of stupid, Zuko gets a break from being a shouty jerk, and Aang and Katara get to be just awkward kids (albeit while trapped in a life or death situation - priorities guys). Poor Sokka, Appa, and Song have a pretty bad time. But Sokka being terrorised by stupidity makes for funny tv.

[spookyspecterino]

New You

Sam Coe x GN! Reader x Delgado

GN! Reader. No pronouns, no use of Y/N, or reader descriptions used. Reader is called Rook a few times, like in some Crimson Fleet quests.

Some angst. A lot of explicit language. Implied sexual relationships. Pining for a criminal. Poor Sam. Sam is supportive but worried. Delgado is a warning all by himself.

You're there to watch as the pirates you've worked beside for months are taken to prison. They have a few things they'd like to say.

This is about the Crimson Fleet Undercover plot.

I just started the questline. I have no idea how it ends of if anything along these lines even happens. My brain literally bullied me into writing it 😭 I stopped everything to write this lmao.

I really love the theme of going undercover, assimilating, and then having to deal with who you've become and how you've changed after everything. So there's some of that in here.

“You sure you wanna be here for this?”

“I have to see it through, Sam. After months of being undercover, it wouldn’t feel right if I didn’t.”

He grunts softly. “Alright. Just prepare yourself for pirates to be, well, pirates.”

Doors open on the other side of the transport deck. A squad of UC security and Naval troops, all decked out to the nines, file in, holding mean looking rifles.

The sounds of trouble already echo through the open door.

“Ya fuckin’ bastards! Let me go, I didn’t do jack shit!” A mane of red-brown hair comes in the doorway first as Mathis is quite literally shoved through. It was no surprise that he’s giving everyone trouble.

It doesn’t take much time for him to notice you standing to the side. “You!” He snarls. “I’m gonna put a bullet through your head if it’s the last thing I ever do!”

The laugh that comes out of you is rough, full of vile, and cruel delight. “Shut the hell up, Mathis. The last thing you’ll ever do is rot in a two-by-four cell. I hope they make it cold just for you!”

Mathis screams more explicit insults, most geared toward your mother. The guards fight and yank at the man, rifles raised. Still, they manage to subdue him, robbing you of a chance to put Mathis down yourself. You’re laughing until he’s well past the other doorway and out of sight, you hoped he could hear it from down the hall.

“Seems like a real winner. Good friend of yours?” Sam asks, studying you.

“Fuck no. Hated that asshole from the moment he opened his mouth, to be perfectly honest. I’m going to sleep well knowing he’s going through his worst nightmare.”

Sam’s face pinches together, you only catch a glimpse of it from the corner of your eye. His mouth twists, as if he has more than just, “Ah, I see.”

“Have something you wanna say?” The response is snappy, challenging, automatic—something you had to adopt in the midst of pirates, and you regret it immediately. “I…I didn’t mean that…” You sigh, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of your nose.

“It’s alright. I get it. Just try to remember you’re not a pirate anymore.”

“Yeah...I’m working on it.”

His eyes linger. You can feel his thoughtful gaze. It makes you itch.

Pirate life was at least simplistic. Somebody had a problem? You’d know about it immediately. A short knife fight or a brawl and it’d be over. Done.

Being around Sam again was…well it would take an adjustment period.

Months of pirate life, a life you’d adapted to very quickly, and you’re spit back out into civilization on the other side. There was no guidance on how to go back to “everyday life”—on how to shed this new person you’d become.

It’s infuriating. Everyone expects you to pick back up from where you left off…but you can’t. You’re not the same person anymore. Sometimes you wake up and think you’re still on the Key.

Sometimes you wish you were still on the Key.

“I can see you thinking behind that wall of silence.” Sam gently says. His voice sounds so loud on the empty transport deck. “Just know that I’m here for you—always will be. You wanna talk about what happened during those months, you can come to me, judgement free. Promise.”

When you don’t respond, Sam chuckles. “You’re always so quiet now—which is fine,” he’s quick to add, “I just want to help.”

“Yeah…thanks.” Is all you can manage as the transport deck’s doors open again and more armed personnel file through.

Naeva is silent, head held high…until she catches sight of you.

“Oh, it’s on when I get out of here, Rook!” She spits through her teeth, trying to lunge for you. The guards stop her, pull her back into line, but her body remains tense.

“Looking forward to it, Naeva.” A cruel grin breaks free. “You know, I never killed that other Rook you sent me after. Austin Rake. He’s at some Starport, drinking for free right now.”

“You fucking traitor! You’d better be looking over your shoulder for the rest of your damn life! ‘Cause when you don’t, I’ll be there to put a knife through your back!”

“We’ll see about that. I’m sure you’ll get a knife through yours first. Delgado probably isn’t happy that it was your recruit who brought his empire down around him.”

She grins, something dangerous lurks in her expression. “Oh, I’m sure Delgado has some plans for you, Rook. After everything, I can’t imagine how you’re gonna look him in the eyes.” They’re nearing the other doors, Naeva’s trying to twist back to face you, fighting the pushing and pulling of her security escort. “You know he trusted you. Honest to God. Have fun living with that for the rest of your life, traitor!”

Her words hit a nerve. You were very careful not to let it show. Still…it hurt.

As the doors close, Sam turns to face you. “Listen, why don’t we just go? This isn’t healthy.”

“Not really focused on whether it’s healthy or not.”

“That’s part of my point. You have to get away from this stuff, away from the Fleet. This whole thing is just going to give you more to think about and keep you awake at night.”

Lashing out and snapping back a retort is what you want to do. But instead, you take a deep breath and let it out slowly.

His voice turns soft, pleading. “Don’t go silent again. Please, talk to me.”

“Sam,” you start, very carefully, “I need this. This is my closure.”

“Are you sure?” His blue eyes were soft, full of worry.

More questions—and feelings. It agitated you. Made you grind your teeth together. “I’m sure.”

He looks away, frowning. He’d probably bring it up again, but future you would have to deal with that. Right now, you were more focused on—

Doors slid open. Your heart skips with that familiar flutter while a hard knot forms in your stomach.

Delgado walks, freely, without any guards touching him, through the doorway. He’s given space and walks leisurely as if he owns the Vanguard. There’s no hassling, there’s no pushing.

You’re expecting the worst—or for him not even to look at you. Instead, he holds your stare with a faint smile. “Hold up.” And the guards around him actually stop.

You know that look in his eyes, you’ve seen it a hundred times, your feet move without any command or thought.

Delgado. Leader of the Crimson Fleet. Even if you tried, you couldn’t spare him.

He steps away from the security unit. One last private meeting with the man who owned you, heart and soul, for the last few months.

“I was wondering whether I’d see you here.”

Why are you smiling? “Couldn’t resist the urge to tell Mathis one last time to go fuck himself.”

He chuckles. It sends your nerves out of whack. “I’m very impressed by you. Playing the part that well…” he tilts his head, a secretive smile just for the two of you catches at his lips. “…certainly had me fooled.”

Late nights in dim lighting. Cigarette smoke. Legs tangled up in sheets. Whispers. Rare laughter. It floods back, threatening to break your tough façade.

“Tell me, mi tesoro, are you prepared to go back to the life of normalcy? With your,” He leans over, looking Sam up and down with open distaste, who stands further back—arms crossed and glaring, “little Vaquero?”

“I’m working on it.”

Delgado barks out a laugh. “I know this person you are now. You’ll never be satisfied again.” There’s a teasing glint in his eye that you’re stubbornly avoiding.

“My life before the Fleet was just as exciting and satisfying.”

He hums, his smile turning darker. “I doubt that very much. There isn’t anything so thrilling as robbing a GalBank transport and returning home to celebrate with drinks and…” He pauses, eyes scanning you. “Well, that last part is just between you and me, eh?” His eyes flickered to Sam, then back. “Can he give you that?”

You chuckle, it’s forced. “Delgado. Jealous to a fault. Some things never change.”

“You know he can’t.”

“He can give me something else. Happiness. Security. Maybe even be a life-long partner.”

“And I couldn’t? You insult me, my dear. I would have given you everything.”

“Just as long as you had what you wanted first.”

He holds up a finger. “We obviously know one another very well. So, I offer you this. If you ever get tired of playing nice in a universe that is anything but, you know where to find me.”

“You’re serious?” Your voice lowers to a hiss. “And what, break you out of high security prison just for you to kill me? No thanks.”

“On my word, all debts and grievances would be squared. Think of it. I’d have you by my side—we could build something better than the Fleet ever was. Be free of the UC, the Rangers, everything. Like we always talked about.”

A guard behind him starts walking over. “Alright, time’s up. Let’s go.”

You’re frowning, eyes flickering anywhere but his. “You’re insane.”

Delgado’s expression turns. The light fading from his eyes. “You’ve never been satisfied. It’s something I really like about you.”

He lets the guard corral him back to the others. Your fists are tightly gripped. “The person you knew was undercover.”

“Tell yourself whatever makes you feel better.”

As he’s escorted away, you want to follow. Your legs tense, trying to keep still. His parting words before he passes through the door are, “I’ll be seeing you.”

Then he’s gone. The transport deck feels emptier than it ever has been.

Never satisfied. A life of normalcy. Going back to surveying planets and doing odd jobs for the Rangers. The idea claws at you. Your mind battles with the concept, with the unspoken feelings. Remnants of your past self against whoever you are now.

We could build something better than the Fleet ever was.

You know where to find me.

Sam walks up, standing by your side. Watching. You hadn’t moved. Still staring at the closed doors.

“What did he mean, ‘I’ll be seeing you’?”

The lie is easy. “No idea.”

[fandomtherapy44]

Solider Boy x reader

Summary: The year just turning into 1982 Vaught's Payback being the most talked Superhero group especially Vaught's Golden boy. The elusive handsome player Solider boy. Y/n has always wanted to help people with her powers so when Payback starts interviewing, she has to go. Her whole life is about get shaken up not just by how she thought superheroes were supposed to be but by an arrogant self-absorbed but handsome asshole.

Paring: Solider boy x reader/Enemies to lovers

word count: 1,338

Chapters: 1/?

WARININGS: oh, shit here we go again. Major language, Cancer patient, being mean to Y/n.

I got the divder from

saradika

AN/ Hey everyone so I've been thinking to make this for a while now. Since I love the Boys so much did, I start watching this show for Jensen maybe did I stay for the others yes. I think Payback is so interesting, so this is like a prequel series. I just love the backstory of Payback I hope we get more in this new season. This first chapter we don't meet Ben, but we will soon ;) Hope you enjoy.

Chapter one: Taking the leap

POV (Y/N)

The year being 1982 I was freshly twenty-eight working at fucking Vought burger I mean I was making money not much but still I just thought I would be somewhere else at this age. I was mopping the floors at one am with the smell of cell killing chemicals and the four-hour crust of kid puke up my nose. The old tv in the corner of the ceiling was a plus though because Vaught central channel would replay old Payback movies. Superheroes were my everything when I was a kid especially when I learned I had the very powers that my hero’s had. But my mom never wanted me to use them. 

“Hey Y/n how’s your mom doing?” My friend slash coworker asked me. “Oh well she has a treatment this week but after that I don’t know how I’m going to cover the cost next time.” “I can maybe scrape some money together.” I put my mop down and turned to her. “No no I couldn't ask you to do that you have your own shit to worry about.” “Ok but if there is anything else I can do I will be there.” I smile at her kindness. “I'm counting on it.” Just two more damn hours and I could go home and sleep for three hours and then go to my next job.

“Hey, did you hear about those auditions downtown?” “What auditions?” I asked, not really paying attention trying to get the puke stain out of the tiled floor. “Really you haven't heard that’s surprising of how much you love superheroes, it's the payback auditions.” I nearly slipped on the puke. “What! Are you serious!?” I ran over to her shaking her. “Yes Y/n yes! Now can you stop shaking me? I think my brain is starting to leak.” “Ha yes sorry it’s just that it has literally been my dream since I've learned I have powers.” “So, are you going to go?” That was the question.

The weather today was cold, and it was raining well more like pouring and my broken umbrella was barely holding together. I walked in and said hello to the nurse. Before I walked in the room, I put on the fake smile that I put on every time. “Hey mom.” I went to her bed. “Sweetpea, I didn’t know you were coming today.” She said in a very southern draw one of the many things I loved about her. “I wanted to surprise, especially today.” I looked to the tube in her arm for her treatment.

“So, how’s college?” Right college. “Well, my professor says that he was most impressed by my last paper.” This was all bullshit but if I told her what I was really doing all day she would discharge herself and go home and let God do the work to heal her. Well sadly I couldn't leave it up to God not where she was with her stage. “Now that's my daughter on her way to be on the top and get her dream job.” Dream job now that was a joke.

“Yeah...” I looked at the time and my other job was calling. “Well mom I have to run to class. Do you need anything before I go.” She grabs my hand and stares in my eyes. “I just want to look at my little girl for a minute.” In that minute my heart was racing. “Now sweetie go kick but!” My mother would never curse. She said that if she did that she might as well drink dirt then sweet lemonade. 

On my way to work my umbrella fully went down. Luckily there was an awning, and I ran under it. I looked out and it seemed the whole world was working against me. My mother, my job, my lack of a love life but that was the last thing on my mind. The weather was like my life exploding all at once. I just didn’t know what to do. But I think the world heard me and a gust of wind threw up a flyer in my face but not just any flyer.

“Hi there, can you please step forward and state your name,age,height,weight,Sup name.” I don’t think I have ever sweat so much in my life. “Uh Y/n L/n,28,’-,___’ and I don’t know ha.” I looked down nervously. “You're auditioning for a superhero team and you don’t have a name?” The woman looked at me in disbelief. “I-” She holds up her hand to stop me. “You know what I don’t have time to hold your fucking hand like in kindergarten just show us your powers.”

I took that in stride and stood back. I breathed in deeply and used my whole body to push forward and a force came out that crumbled all the practice dummies. I also grabbed the air around me and made a blade. Then I made a shield from that same air. I looked back and everyone looked shocked. The woman from before stacked her papers. “Um thank you we will call you.” I bowed and said thank you.

It had been about a month, and I had heard nothing, so I had lost hope. I was once again cleaning a kid's mess. Parents really need to watch their kids. “Y/n phone call!” My coworker called out and I threw down my rag and dusted off my pants and went to the phone. “Hello” “Hello this Vaught.” My eyes widened and I held my hand over the phone to not hear my escaped squeals. “What are you calling about?” I tried to keep my excitement in.

“Well, the people who are behind payback were very impressed with your audition and would like to invite you to be the newest member of payback.” I did not think twice. “YES!” “I mean yes I would love to.” “Great you will be flown out on the first of next month.” Oh, shit I didn't know it would be that quick. She sensed my quiet. “Will that be a problem?” “No of course not thank you.” She hung up. “Who was that?” My coworker asked. “That was the call telling me that I'm going to be the newest member of Payback.” I said realizing that my whole life changed in five minutes.

It was only the tenth, but I had so much shit to do I had to quit my jobs, stop renting and tell my mom which to be honest I was putting that off. “Hey mom.” “Sweetpea if you keep on surprising me, I'm going to have to start getting pretty for you.” “Mom, you are beautiful everyday no matter what.” “Aww you're just saying that.” “Speaking about our visits, they will have to slow down.” She looked disappointed. “Well, I understand for school.” Here I go. “Mom I'm just going to say it…  you're looking at the newest member of Payback.” “Tell me you're joking.” “No mom I’m not.”

“Y/n you can’t it's too dangerous.” “Mom, I swear to you I will train every day be the safest possible.” “No, I won’t allow it.” “Well sorry I'm an adult and I can make my own decisions. And frankly my fast-food jobs are not cutting it for the bills.” “Fast food? What about college?” “I couldn't do both make money and do school.” “So, you've been lying this whole time.” “I’m sorry mom but it was between me, and you and I chose you.” She had hot tears welling up. “But with this job I can pay for everything and more.” “You'll call me every day?” I threw myself in her arms like I was a little girl again. “Everyday.”

I get on the plane, and I sit down. My whole life was about to change. I was going to go from nobody to where I have permission to punch strangers. But I was ready for whatever or whoever will be there. 

[delta-altair]

Angry rant ahead. I've been holding back on this one but I woke up at 3am this morning to prep for a virtual astronomy conference in a European time zone next week so whoops it's what I actually feel in words instead of in vague reblogs.

Just as I have never forgiven the people who caused 2016 to happen, I will *never* forgive the Beltway media, podcast bros, pollsters who think they're the goddamn oracles at Delphi, and fauxgressive fucking idiots for this.

First of all, if I here one sniveling whining "But Kamala is a cawwwwwp-" -- if you do not posses the common sense to understand that a chaotic, open convention where the disunity of the Democratic party is on full national display would be a stake through the heart of the campaign -- WHOEVER is chosen -- then sorry but you aren't smart enough to comment on this!!! Sorry if that's fucking mean but it's true. For once the left (and I mean from the center to the wall, the whole thing yes) collectively needs to shut the fuck up, get in line, and focus on one goddamn thing for the next three and a half months.

Second, I had a much longer post with plots and everything I was going to make about the last Canadian election, but I'll make it short now. This is about *polls*, aka the "reason" why this happened (it's not, it was the media forcing the issue by refusing to show the public anything else about Biden and his accomplishment, but anyway...). Feel free to skip (but there's a cat at the bottom for anyone who actually reads my rantings), the tl;dr is that you should not trust any poll more than a week out from the election because the average person is a fucking moron.

So polling just before the previous election was called (Canadian elections are different, they can happen before the 4 year mark if the PM decides) all showed a healthy Liberal (center-left) lead. Probably majority if it holds. "If an election was held today, who would you vote for?", that was the question. But then the Liberals call the election and SURPRISE, guess what happens? They tumble in the polls so drastically they fall below the Conservatives (right) in overall vote share almost immediately. They held onto a minority in parliament because of how our systems works (we have 5 seat holding parties), but still, they took a huge hit. Why? Did some scandal happen the week after the election was called? Did the Conservatives promise everyone a free puppy if they won? No.

No, nothing happened. The reason why the Liberals fell in the polls was that people were mad that they called an early election. Despite the fact that the polls that some of the same people definitely took asked the question "If an election were held today, who would you vote for?" I guess the average person didn't have enough brain cells to rub together to understand that if an election is happening then the Liberals would have necessarily called an election. I know this sounds circular and stupid but that is literally it!! A bunch of people said "Yeah I'd vote for the Liberals if an election was happening today. Oh the Liberals (the only people who CAN) called an election, I don't like that, so I'm not going to vote Liberal."

So miss me with literally any poll that is not a week out from the actual election event. They are all nonsense. It turns out that you cannot predict human stupidity to a statistically significant degree.

We are *also* in a regime where the only thing that really matters now is turnout, and turnout is much harder to poll than voter preference, so that's another kick against polling.

I don't really have a coherent ending for this. I'm not in total doom mode because a lot of things can still turn out ok, technically. But I still remember the feeling I felt when a huge portion of American said "actually, saying you can assault women and grab them by their pussies any time you want is actually not disqualifying for being president, but we're going to make up a bunch of bullshit to explain why we're not voting for Hillary" and I still do not trust most of you because of this.

You have once chance to not totally fuck this up. Treat it seriously.

Here's my cat to brighten your day. Her name is Jupiter.

[bunnakit]

bake me please finale thoughts, feelings, etc.

normally i only break down whole eps for last twilight but this finale sure is. a finale. definitely is one of those.

this shit with the social media feels very dramatic for some cakes. like??? listen, i work in social media for a small company, this year we had something VERY major fuck up one of our shipments, but even with that huge fuck up no one responded even close to this lmao. this is ridiculous and overly dramatic - which like, i know the show has been, but this just felt dumb.

well that's not true, you just had a whole fit last episode about how Sweetheart managed to rip off your recipe, so like... someone is definitely making that cake, bud. i don't get his obsession with the torta caprese, you are not the only one capable of making it. make a fucking croquembouche and then i'll be impressed.

and once again Peach saves the fucking day. how did any of you live without him? like honestly, the amount of physical and emotional labor Peach takes on is INSANE. why is he the most well adjusted person in a group of 5 adult men? i'm begging you all to pass the singular brain cell you share around.

not that Peach is perfect, because he then lies to Guy, says he has the flu, and expects Guy not to show up and try to take care of him? buddy Guy is besotted with you, he cried because you were crying, of course he's going to try and come take care of you.

so here's something i liked about this conversation - that there was a conversation. Guy found out Peach lied, Peach apologized, and they talked it through. not all of Guy's responses were perfect but he listened and he didn't shout or lash out. he took time to hear Peach and understand what was going on.

and instead of shouting, he tells Peach to go.

so there's absolutely a parallel here to draw between Shin telling Guy not to come back and Guy telling Peach not to come back - just like Shin, Guy is hurting. he doesn't want Peach to go, doesn't want to say goodbye, but he knows that's what Peach wants and he's willing to let him go. the difference comes in that this is very likely also the perfect opportunity for Guy to seek some distance. he's recently been rejected by Peach and knows there's no place for his feelings with Peach, so it would be better for them both if they can have that space.

he communicates it in a way that's better than Shin, without the shouting and the hurt and the insult, just a quiet resignation. and you see Peach isn't that upset, not even half as upset as Guy was when Shin said the very same thing to him - because Sweetheart isn't where Peach wants to be and both he and Guy know that.

WELL THIS WOULD HAVE BEEN NICE INFORMATION TO HAVE IN EPISODE 1. so Shin, Oab, and Guy started Temptation together and were all shareholders, which is both pretty impressive and makes Guy leaving all the more tragic. i can get why Shin was so hurt, but Guy's hurt is amplified as well because he went into a business with his friends and was sidelined, essentially.

i am so glad to see him come home, though. what Guy shows us is sometimes you need space and time to gather your thoughts, feelings, and gain perspective on what matters most to you. after everything Guy still came back because this place and these people are his home.

"My ego is not as important as this shop and all our efforts."

wow what a mature thing to say, amazing. what a concept. Why the fuck wasn't Guy our main.

okay, I know I'm on my Guy soapbox, I'll get off it soon, but just - Guy being the one to take Peach back to Shin? what the FUCK. it hurts. it hurts so bad. he literally takes Peach by the hand and leads him back to Shin so they can reconcile. from his earlier talk with Shin he knows he feels bad, he knows he misses Peach, and from Peach's rejection he knows Peach misses Shin. he puts all of his own love and feelings aside to bring them back together. i know he did some shady and petty shit but he really is the Guy (lol) of all time.

the fact that Shin apologizes better to Guy than to Peach drives me up a wall. Shin talks to Peach about not being firm enough and being impatient or whatever and it's like CAN YOU JUST SAY YOU'RE SORRY? i'm begging you to apologize for not listening, for calling his dream stupid, etc. NOT FOR NOT BEING FIRM ENOUGH WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?

NO. ANGRY BUZZER NOISE. NOPE. PEACH YOU DID NOTHING WRONG. YOU COMMUNICATED ALMOST THE ENTIRE TIME UNTIL YOU FELT LIKE YOU COULDN'T ANYMORE. YOU PUT THAT 'WE' BACK IN YOUR MOUTH.

their reconciliation just felt so weird, like Shin never apologizes for FUCKING CALLING PEACH'S DREAM STUPID like??? hello? i would not be able to move past that, myself. dreams are all we have in this shitty difficult world and then you're gonna insult someone's dream? get fucked.

okay i'll admit i did REALLY like the parallels of these two scenes, this was very sweet and well done. and that sassy look between Guy and Oab - i'll be a GuyPeach bitch until i die but it was very cute and very suggestive.

i am not buying this for an instant though, from Guy or Oab. i think they both loved Peach and Shin very much, but saying this might make moving on easier for them both. i don't know what world Guy lives in but crying because Peach is crying? that's not something you do for a simple crush. rushing to his house because you heard he was sick? not crush behavior. but whatever makes it easier to move on babes.

having the family reunited after all of this feels so fucking good, though. i'm going to talk about this a lot more later but they're my comfort idiots, your honor.

AND GRANDMA SURVIVED TO THE END!! WE DID IT!!! HELL YEAH!!

alright since this is basically the end i'm just going to talk about the things i liked and didn't like about this show and the ending. i haven't read anyone else's posts because i really didn't want to be influenced and i'm glad i sat with my thoughts for a bit.

what i really enjoyed about Bake Me Please is the warmth of it all and the aesthetics. there are so many beautiful shots in this show it's almost like a work of art. they do so much with light, framing, the food, etc. it really is a delight to watch. the plot was fine, a little rushed at times but that's to be expected with 6 episodes, it wasn't anything special and it wasn't terrible - it just was. i think @mikuni14 really said it the best that one of the most charming things about Bake Me Please is that each character feels like a real person you could come across in your day to day life and this is both for better or for worse, because sometimes people are so frustrating. they don't feel like characters or caricatures but actual fleshed out people and i love that, because i would sometimes forget i was watching a show.

another thing i loved from BMP is Atom and Oab's relationship. it's so easy for shows to make brothers rivals, to pit them against each other, but Atom and Oab have so much love and support for each other and it was so refreshing to see. Atom doesn't want to work at a bakery but he does it for Oab because he loves him and wants to help him - and Oab knows he doesn't want to work there and is doing it in part because of their mother and promises to help and support Atom when he does find his dream. i could watch an entire show just about the two of them, i really fell in love with their love for each other.

i also very much appreciated the reunion and the way they all came back together as a family. they're a collection of broken pieces and i suppose Peach has become to glue to hold them together (though i wish he didn't have to be.) the atmosphere of the bakery is completely changed, there's palpable joy in the environment, and hopefully they can continue this feeling.

now what didn't i like? Shin and Peach's entire relationship feels like such an emotional weight thrust onto Peach's shoulders. at every turn it's up to Peach to draw Shin out of his shell, to mend missteps, to learn how to navigate around Shin, and it feels like Peach dancing with a brick wall rather than the two of them waltzing together. i didn't really find them getting together all that satisfying, especially not once they'd slept with each other. i will say, all of this did put an spotlight on how important communication is in relationships, so for nothing else i suppose there is that.

i guess it's not just Peach either, though. the emotional weight of Shin and his attitude and hang ups is really put on everyone else and very, very, VERY fucking rarely does Shin ever take any PROPER responsibility for that. he says a few sorries, not as many as he should imo, and everyone just moves on.

this isn't just me shitting on Shin, though. i really didn't like the constant referring to Shin as heartless. like, fuck, those are your friends!! the people you went into business with!! ouch!! so i can get why he was a dick sometimes but you cannot go through your whole ass adult life acting like that to everyone. and we do see he has a few wake up calls, especially when encountering Oab's mom.

which brings me to my next gripe - i hope that woman explodes. they showed us quite a bit of her and her shitty attitude and all of that led nowhere. i'm not saying i needed some great sob story of her realizing all the pressure she was putting on her kids, etc. i just wish we'd seen.. more, i guess. even if it wasn't resolved or there was no happy ending. generational trauma is such a hot topic these days and Asian families arguably suffer from it more than others. it would have been nice to see some of that explored and seen Oab be less of a doormat - or at least take steps in that direction.

i also wish we'd seen more development between Guy and Oab rather than just these little crumbs at the end. i can't help but feel like they were two consolation prizes just coming together because why not? and it's like, i don't know, i'd rather see something form slowly over time and maybe before the finale - like simultaneous with them dealing with their feelings for Shin and Peach maybe they also struggle with some burgeoning feelings for each other. i think that's the only reason i can't get into them too much, there's just nothing there for me to really latch onto emotionally.

finally, i'm disappointed Peach's dream is never addressed. sure, they sell his grandma's cakes in the shop now - but those are the cakes that inspired SHIN. everything is once again about SHIN. how is Shin supporting Peach? what is Peach's current trajectory towards his dream? it's giving woman with high aspirations gets married and becomes a house wife while her husband gets all the glory. yuckers.

sometimes the show also just kind of felt like one big excuse to make their music videos. the videos are good! i listened to Poom's on repeat today, but idk. i just wonder why this show was made. what message were they trying to convey? i get not all media has to be this big, deep thing but i just really feel like i missed the why here. maybe it was just to enjoy the aesthetics, the music, and have something short and low key? and if that's the case it did really nail it!

all in all, i'm not upset i watched it, Chef Guy will always have an incredibly special place in my blorbo heart, and i would recommend it for anyone who might want a short, casual palatte cleanser show between heavier shows (i know it has been a great break in my week between all the heavy shows airing right now)

i think we can all agree Poom was the best thing to come out of this show and it was a great way to showcase his exceptional acting skills and put him on our radar. i cannot wait to see more of him in the future.

i hope you guys have enjoyed the gifsets and my rambling, i'm smooching you all, and have a happy holidays!

meta tag loves: @callipigio