#nothing happens on screen but it it's referenced/implied

[yarn-dragon]

Whumptober Day 26! Sil takes first watch, she will come to regret it

[alfredsmanor]

Here’s another short fic I posted on AO3.

The basic premise of this AU is that Emily’s second attempt to escape the Golden Cat, after she found out about the VIP exit and before Prudence locked it, completely succeeded instead of being foiled at the last minute. She traded her princess outfit to Griff for some old clothes and coin, and after the coin ran out Griff introduced Emily to Slackjaw and a 16 year old Bottle Street Gang member named Giles. Slackjaw offered Emily a job working as a mudlark for the Bottle Street Gang. Slackjaw is the Bottle Street Gang’s CEO, but Giles is the person who’s in charge of the mudlarks from day to day. Emily has co-workers who are more or less her age, their names are Gill, Caleb, Tom, Anne, and Tracey. Emily goes by Alice, Al for short. She deliberately chose to use a girls name as her full alias, but then a boy's nickname.

I am working on a long multichapter fic in this AU but this conversation was in my head fully formed and I needed to get it out. I hope by posting it I can generate some enthusiasm for the bigger project and find a beta for the long fic. I will probably take this fic down if I ever reach the point where the two scenes in this fic are incorporated into the longer work.

[currently-becoming-potatoes]

List of words for the computer:

LONG POST- more under the cut

STANFORD- Pulls up a file on Stanford Pines, written by an unknown scientist. It discusses his extra finger and praises his intelligence, as well as calling him the “next evolution in the human species”.

BILL CIPHER- Takes you to the Wikipedia page for the Eye of Providence. Also took me to a Sesame Street video about a Jazzy Triangle and a Square. Not sure what prompted the change.

STANLEY PINES: Takes you to a list of EBay listings for brass knuckles.

FIDDLEFORD: Takes you to the music video for Cotton Eye Joe by Rednex.

SHERMIE: Nothing. I sure do wish we got some lore about Grandpa Pines.

GRAVITY FALLS: The text on the computer reads “never heard of it” and the red light on the bottom turns green.

ALEX HIRSCH: Leads to Google Images for ���flannel”. Huh.

WEIRDMAGEDDON: Pulls up an article from the Gravity Falls Gossiper about how nothing happened at all and there was no apocalypse.

DISNEY: Screen reads “rat.gif censored for your protection”

SOOS: Leads to a page of writing from Soos himself, referencing many things (including Tad Strange being gay and madly in love with Woodpecker Guy. Love wins!!!)

DIPPER: Leads to a creepy yellow parchment with a message from Bill Cipher himself trying to trick Dipper into blinding himself by staring at the sun for 13 hours straight! Silly! (Also if you keep clicking on it, the page gets darker and blurrier until it implies we've gone blind)

MABEL: Causes stickers to appear on every available surface. Clicking it enough times leads to message “lab now fully Mabelized”.

WENDY: Leads to a note from Wendy that mentions a way to ward off evil triangles written in the bottom corner of the book.

GIDEON: Makes a web recording of Gideon scatting play. It ends with “I love you forever Mabel”. Please shut the fuck up you little creep.

TAD STRANGE: Plays a video of bread with smooth jazz in the background.

TOBY DETERMINED: Leads to a Google search for a restraining order. Holyyyyy shittttttt

WHO ARE YOU: “I could ask you the same question”

SEASON 3: “Season Two”. I guess that’s that lol

This was about all I could find. Please reblog with anything else you can discover! Thank you, fellow Gravity Falls enjoyers!

And make sure to give some love to all the wonderful folks down in the comments! Many of these answers and tips come from what they've found. I can't list everyone, unfortunately- I didn't expect this post to get popular- but, to everyone who's helped out, THANK YOU.

FURTHER EDITS:

BLIND EYE: Pulls up an optometrist’s eye exam. Each line reads “WKHBOOVHH”. Too lazy to translate atm.

PIÑATA: Bill Cipher getting beaten to death /hj

MASON: A note from Dipper listing several anagrams of Gravity Falls characters’ names. You can check in the comments for the answers.

AXOLOTL: “You ask alotl questions”. Thanks for the pun, Alex, but I’m kind of losing my mind rn

MYSTERY SHACK: Leads to a Google search for Confusion Hill, the real-life Mystery Shack!

MYSTERY: “?”

MONSTER: Leads to several YouTube videos for “There’s a Monster at the End of this Book.”

VALLIS CINERIS: Leads to an analog-horror-esque video of Baby Bill and his parents, who have been blotted out by static, and a voice repeating “WHY DID YOU DO IT” over and over again until you stop the video.

PORTAL: “Portal.exe has been deleted. I bet you could build a new one.”

GIFFANY: You need to put it in multiple times. Several warnings about breaching firewall, followed by a message from GIFFANY saying “SOOS! I still love you!” or smth like that, and then GIFFANY herself briefly appearing onscreen. Trying again after that summons her more. Also lets you download some ZIP files.

DORITO: Summons an image of a spinning Dorito, followed by the most cursed image of Bill Cipher I have ever seen.

GOD: A short video of an axolotl in a tank with a Bill Cipher statue plays. This is Alex’s axolotl, shown in the Book of Bill countdown.

REALITY: “Is an illusion”

FILBRICK: “I’m not impressed”

CARYN: “I knew you were gonna write that”

GLASS SHARD BEACH: Leads to an image of the New Jersey Hell Hole.

ANY CUSS WORD: Pulls up a paper reading “NOT S&P APPROVED. WASH YOUR MOUTH OUT WITH SOAP” with an image of soap below.

MATPAT: Leads to a video of MatPat next to a conspiracy board, holding the Book of Bill. He tells us we’re on our own.

BABBA: Plays an audio recording of Dipper singing BABBA. Not Disco Girl, a different song.

CRAZ: Leads to the Jem and the Holograms theme.

XYLER: See above.

AD ASTRA PER ASPERA: Shows us two new journal pages from Ford and Mabel, studying the Cipher statue. They’re definitely worth the read, I teared up looking at them.

ANSWER: “Question”

QUESTION: “Answer”

SEASON ONE: “Season -1: Antigravity Falls”

SEASON TWO: “Season 1” …maybe scratch what I said about Season 3. Or don’t. Things are starting to damage my brain.

CURSED (got from @slimslamflimflam decoding the candle! Thanks!): Shows two pages talking about the dangers of drawing triangles, with the bottom of the second page showing several drawings of Bill and the words “HE IS COMING, RUN”

THE UNIVERSE: “Hologram”

RIZZ: “Life privileges revoked. Now releasing poison gas.” This response is repeated if you type in SKIBIDI or FORTNITE.

BABY: Shows an ultrasound of a fetus Bill Cipher, captioned “Look at what’s growing inside you! See you in nine months, papa!”

JOURNAL 3: “The Journal for Me”

PACIFICA: Leads to a note from Pacifica calling Bill Cipher “ick” and telling us to follow her on social media under “Platinum Paz”

PLATINUM PAZ: Pulls up an image of Northwest Manor with the llama symbol overlaid and a “NW” logo beneath. There's also a short story beneath!

LOVE: Leads to an audiobook of “The Love Triangle”. Need to read later.

BLENDIN: “The time agent lost and presumed incompetent”. Uh…?

SCARY: Leads to another audiobook of a cheesy Goosebumps-esque horror novel written by Bill himself, apparently.

DIVORCE: Shows you the logo of the bar Bill went to after his fight with Ford… Billford bitter exes confirmed

ROBBIE: Leads to the cringiest messages ever. He’s such a failure I love him

CONSPIRACY: Leads to a video of a man losing his mind over the countdown counting up. I feel so seen. (I have been informed that his name is Charlie Day, he's an actor from It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia and that one meme, he had a quote on the back of the Book of Bill, thanks to everyone who explained that to me, I'm sorry, I'm uncultured)

RAT: “Thurburt’s number?”

BLANCHIN: Leads to a YouTube video on how to blanch vegetables.

TJ ECKLEBURG: “Never mention that name again.”

NOTHING: “Something”

SOMETHING: “Nothing”

BURNSIDE: “Burned inside.” Well… at least we know what happened…

WADDLES: Leads to the pig placement network!

THERAPRISM: Pulls up a sign from the theraprism regarding an emergency situation. The code reads "THE OLD ONE".

SHAPE: Pulls up an article on Plato, triangles, and Ancient Greece. This article is presumably written by Bill.

LLIB and BILL: THIS leads to the Sesame Street video every time.

WEIRD: Shows a video of a frightened Weird Al panicking about being trapped in a computer. Sorry, man...

CLONE: Pulls up an image of Paper Jam Dipper, a warning about not getting him too close to liquids, and an option to print.

TRIANGLE: ")" or "Tri harder."

THEYLLSEE: "Is seeing believing?"

DEER TEETH: "For you, kid!"

LIFE: "Life: 72% complete. Now loading: death."

DEATH: "Life's goth cousin."

PINES: "A good family tree."

OWL TROWEL: A slab of hieroglyphs, translating to an ancient ad for an owl trowel.

SCALENE: "Life form not found." EUCLID has the same outcome.

WELL WELL WELL BEING: Some assorted notes from Bill's Theraprism file. These include his greatest love and fear, his art therapy notes, and notes on his phobias. Three clicks is required to read them all.

BOO BERRY: Offers a poem on the meaning of life! Wow! I feel so enlightened!

LOVE YA BRO: Shows us a doodle from Stan of one of his and Ford's Sea Grunks adventures, and another code on the back. It translates to "Kings of New Jersey." I've been told it lets you download the code as a font.

SORRY: Reveals the repaired Backupsmore photo, with a note from Fiddleford about his and Ford's growing friendship. Fiddauthor fans, we are eating well tonight!

HORROR: Pulls up an image and report on The Always Garden, which is essentially a cheap Italian restaurant hidden in the backrooms.

HOLOGRAM: "Universe."

NAITSUAF: Pulls up a page that looks like it would be from the Book of Bill, in which Bill tries to convince us to sell us his soul. Clicking "ARE YOU READY?" pulls up a contract where we can sell our soul to Bill (with an alarming amount of coded fine print. Will need to translate later). You can print this document out, back out, or sign it right there on the web. Hitting "SIGN" causes the words "PLEASURE DOING BUSINESS WITH YOU!" to appear, and the document to close. In other words, I no longer have a soul.

IMSTILLONYOURMIND: Plays a recording of the ocean, with Stan faintly talking in the background. Poor Ford ain't quite over the divorce yet...

HOTXOLOTL: Pulls up a "MOST WANTED" doc on the henchmaniacs.

SEVENEYES: Pulls up a faded polaroid of The Oracle with text on the back that reads "LEAVE HIM. Escape to dimension *blurred out*. It's against the rules but it's the only reality where you'll be safe from him." The code at the bottom (once again decoded by the powerhouse that is @slimslamflimflam) reads "Set a course for Dimension: R34LITY." Is another Cipher Hunt in the makes? Only time will tell, hehehe.

JUST FIT IN: Plays an old commercial with a few moments of speech in the glitches at the end.

EVEN HIS LIES ARE LIES: Shows a transcript from a therapy session at the Theraprism. Bill discusses his relationship with Ford and cuts off the session when someone brings up his parents.

NOT A PHASE: Shows a Google search for "black hair dye stained an entire bathroom."

PAPER IS BOOK SKIN: Instantly downloads a page of fleshy pink paper with the word "ENJOY" written on it!

SHAVE YOUR GRANDMA: Pulls up a few more pages about the human life cycle.

LIES: Pulls up an image of "The Game of Lies" board game, with a long stretch of text from (I assume) Bill, ending with "LIE UNTIL YOU ARE NOT LYING ANYMORE." Someone has some issues...

SAY BAAAA: Pulls up a neat little rhyme about being Bill Cipher's obedient flock of sheep. The code at the end translates to "Black Sheep."

ONE EYED KING: Plays a video of a hypnotist's spiral, with Bill proclaiming "YOU WANT TO PLEDGE YOUR SOUL TO BILL CIPHER" in the background. There is also morse code that translates to "NAITSUAF", leading to a previous discovery- the soul contract.

TANTRUM: Pulls up a transcript of a spat between Bill and Time Baby.

TITANS BLOOD: "HOOT HOOT! Password please!"

CURSE WITTEBANE: Pulls up an image of a Bill Cipher ouija board.

FORDTRAMARINE: Pulls up several rejected files from Ford trying to convince us Fordtramarine exists.

SUCK IT MERLIN: Pulls up a tapestry of Bill riding a unicorn. The code at the top reads "DAY MARE VS NIGHTMARE."

HEY NERD: Plays a commercial advertising things such as a Bill Cipher calendar, the Scrubba-Bill, a severed hand, and the entire Cygnus-XIII galaxy. Half of the image can be found in the Book of Bill.

DESTRUCTION IS THE FORM OF CREATION: Pulls up a frantic page of notes from post-portal-shit Fiddleford. A sticky note at the bottom has a code that reads "Unreality."

RUBBERHOSE: Plays "The World is Small Ever After for All."

IRREGULAR: Shows us Bill's mugshot in color. The code below reads "No prison or attention span can hold him."

UNREALITY: Offers a guide by Bill on how to become immortal.

GUN: "Oh yes oh yes oh yes they both."

ABUELITA: Leads to a video on vacuuming the walls.

YES: "What's McGucket's favorite soda?"

NO: "Your loss..."

REPEATEDLY CLICKING STAN: This stuff deserves a section of its own, away from the OG Stan stuff. It takes you through several Ebay listings on various Stan-ish items until you get to a page written by Bill about Stan's secret shames. "Ex-wives" further confirms our theory on Stan and Eda's relationship, as well as revealing many other bits of lore. "Fears" is somewhat goofy to be honest. "Secret Shames" reveals that Stan is a fanfiction writer and that his mother is the only member of his family who truly loves him outside of Ford and the kids. "Unreported Crimes" is somewhat goofy as well. "Failed Products" basically confirms that Stan is that world's Alex. "Lowest Moments" is genuinely depressing, and "Darkest Thought". Well. I'm not spoiling it lol. And the bit on "How He Beat Me" causes Bill to get more and more frantic/angry the more you click it! Comedy GOLD!

DIPPY FRESH: Leads to a Reddit post of the Burger King Kids Club.

MEOW: Leads to a TikTok of a man playing the Gravity Falls theme on that cap keyboard.

HELP ME: Pulls up another video of Alex's axolotl and the tiny statue. Rip Bill ig :/

R34LITY: Pulls up several photos of the henchmaniacs in live-action, captioned "They found a new home."

JOURNAL 1: "The journal of fun."

JOURNAL 2: "The journal for you."

FBI: "Your webcam is on. We are watching."

BURNED INSIDE: Shows an image of a charred Oregon Parks badge and nametag on the ground.

HECTORING: Plays a silly little country song!

OROBOROUS: Pulls up two journal pages about Fiddleford buying Ford an axolotl to keep him company, and Bill subsequently telling Ford to get rid of him. There's also some code on the first page that reads "CHONKY BOY." Ford, you wonderful dork.

[hynzsn]

★ SAFE HAVEN ★

☆ johnny suh x male reader

-> boyfriend!johnny x depressed!reader

꩜ .ᐟ hurt/comfort, fluff

contents: caring!johnny, established relationship, reader has daddy issues, unhealthy coping mechanisms (not eating, isolating), implied/referenced emotional abuse (from reader’s father), swearing, hugs, pet names (babe, baby), reassurance from johnny

wc: 2.7k

summary: you’ve been mia for weeks - ghosting calls, barely eating, and basically becoming one with your bed. the voice in your head, it sounds a lot like your father, and it keeps telling you you’re worthless. good thing johnny’s voice - one that whispers sweet nothings and promises of forever - is even louder.

♡︎♡︎♡︎ likes, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated ♡︎♡︎♡︎

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

[8:37 PM] 📱-> johnny 💝: yo, babe wtf?! you alive over there?? it’s been a minute…

[8:37 PM]📱-> johnny 💝: okay, jokes aside… please text me back. i’m worried about you 😔

[8:41 PM]📱-> johnny 💝: …

[8:45PM]📱-> johnny 💝: i’m coming over.

the messages sat unread, another three little gray bubbles added to the ever-growing count on your lock screen. you didn’t even bother to glance at them before letting your phone clatter back onto the mattress.

it wasn’t supposed to be like this. you were supposed to be the strong one, the one who always had it together, the one who could handle anything life threw at you with a smirk and a sarcastic quip. but lately, the mask had been feeling heavier, the edges digging into your skin, the forced smile making your cheeks ache.

you’d been spiraling for a while now, the familiar darkness creeping in like a fog, suffocating the joy out of everything. it started subtly – skipping meals, pushing deadlines, letting texts go unanswered. then it escalated, the isolation becoming a comforting cocoon as you withdrew further and further into yourself.

your phone buzzed again, the insistent vibration making you flinch. you knew it was johnny. he was the only one who still bothered, who saw through the carefully constructed facade you presented to the world.

he’d seen you at your worst – the breakdowns, the insecurities, the ugly crying sessions fueled by cheap instant ramen and self-loathing. and through it all, he never judged, never wavered. he was your rock, your anchor in the storm that raged within you.

but even rocks could crumble under enough pressure, and you couldn’t bear the thought of dragging him down with you. so, you did what you always did – you pushed everyone away, retreating into the fortress of your own making.

[9:36 PM]

a sharp knock on the door jolted you from your thoughts. you froze, heart hammering in your chest. you weren’t expecting anyone, hadn’t spoken to another soul in days.

the knocking came again, more insistent this time.

“fuck,” you muttered, dragging yourself out of bed. your reflection in the darkened tv screen made you wince. you looked like a ghost – pale, gaunt, with dark circles etched beneath your eyes.

“i’m coming, hold on!” you called out, your voice raspy from disuse.

as you fumbled with the multiple locks on your door, a wave of dizziness washed over you. you leaned against the wall for support, taking a deep breath to steady yourself.

the door swung open, revealing johnny standing in the hallway, his face a mixture of relief and concern.

“hey,” he said softly, his gaze sweeping over you, taking in your disheveled appearance.

“hey,” you mumbled back, avoiding his eyes.

“can i come in?” he asked, his voice gentle.

you hesitated for a moment before stepping aside, allowing him to enter.

the moment he stepped inside, johnny’s face fell. the air was thick with the smell of unwashed laundry and stale takeout containers littered the coffee table. the curtains were drawn, casting the apartment in a perpetual twilight.

“jesus, babe,” he breathed, running a hand through his hair. “what the fuck happened?”

you shrugged, unable to meet his gaze. “nothing. just… tired.”

he didn’t buy it for a second. he crossed the room in a few strides, pulling you into a hug. you stiffened initially, surprised by the sudden contact, but then you melted into his embrace, the warmth of his body a balm to your aching soul.

“don’t lie to me,” he murmured into your hair. “i know something’s wrong. you’ve been mia for weeks.”

you buried your face in his chest, inhaling the familiar scent of his cologne – a comforting mix of sandalwood and something uniquely him.

“i’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice muffled by his shirt. “i didn’t mean to worry you.”

“worry me?” he chuckled humorlessly. “you scared the shit out of me, you know that? i thought something had happened to you.”

“i’m sorry,” you repeated, the words catching in your throat.

he pulled back slightly, cupping your face in his hands and forcing you to look at him. his eyes, usually so full of warmth and humor, were filled with concern.

“talk to me,” he pleaded. “what’s going on in that head of yours?”

you hesitated, unsure of where to begin. how could you possibly explain the tangled mess of emotions that had taken root in your mind, choking the life out of you?

“it’s just…” you started, your voice cracking. “everything feels… pointless. like i’m just going through the motions, you know?”

he nodded slowly, encouraging you to continue.

“i feel like i’m drowning, johnny,” you confessed, tears welling up in your eyes. “and the worst part is, i don’t even know why. i have no reason to feel this way. i have a good life, a great boyfriend…”

“hey, hey,” he interrupted, wiping away a stray tear with his thumb. “it’s okay to not be okay. you don’t need a reason to feel the way you do. sometimes life just throws you a curveball, and you just gotta roll with it.”

his words, so simple yet profound, struck a chord within you. you had always felt the pressure to be strong, to have it all figured out. but maybe it was okay to not be okay. maybe it was okay to ask for help.

“i hate that you’re right,” you said, managing a weak smile.

he chuckled, the sound warming you from the inside out. “that’s my boy.”

he pulled you back into a hug, this time tighter than before. you clung to him, letting his strength seep into you, chasing away the shadows that had been haunting you for so long.

“you know i’m here for you, right?” he murmured against your hair. “always.”

you nodded, burying your face in his chest, unwilling to let go. in his arms, you felt safe, protected from the storm raging within you.

“always,” you echoed, a single tear escaping and tracing a path down your cheek.

johnny didn’t let you go for a long time, holding you close as if he were afraid you might disappear if he loosened his grip. the steady beat of his heart against your ear, the warmth of his body pressed against yours – it was a lifeline, pulling you back from the brink.

when he finally pulled away, his expression was serious. “okay, enough of this moping around,” he said, his voice firm but gentle. “first things first, we’re getting some real food in you. and i’m not talking about that instant ramen crap.”

you opened your mouth to protest, but he silenced you with a look. “don’t even try it,” he said, a playful glint in his eye. “i know your eating habits have been shit lately. i can practically see your ribs.”

he was right, of course. you hadn’t had a proper meal in days, surviving on a steady diet of instant noodles and self-pity. but the thought of food made your stomach churn.

“i’m not really hungry,” you mumbled, averting your gaze.

he raised an eyebrow, his expression skeptical. “right, and i’m the tooth fairy. come on, babe, humor me.”

he didn’t wait for a response, instead taking your hand and pulling you towards the door. you stumbled after him, your legs shaky from disuse.

“where are we going?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper.

“my place,” he replied over his shoulder. “my fridge is stocked with enough food to feed a small army. and before you protest, you need a shower and a change of clothes, sweetheart. you reek of despair and instant ramen.”

he said it with so much affection, you couldn’t even be embarrassed. he was right, though. a shower did sound amazing.

the drive to johnny’s apartment was a blur. you sat in the passenger seat, watching the city lights stream by, your mind racing with a million thoughts per minute.

as he pulled into his parking spot, you couldn’t help but feel a surge of envy. his life seemed so…put together. he had his dream job as an idol, a spacious apartment with a view, and everyone adores him.

you, on the other hand, felt like you were constantly playing catch-up, like you were always one step behind everyone else. your dead-end job at the call center barely paid the bills, your apartment was a testament to your inability to adult properly, and theres the fact that… well, you feel completely lonely. sometimes, you couldn’t help but feel like you were holding johnny back, embarrassing him. you and johnny have been together for a while now, but the thought of what he actually see’s in you still lingers in the back of your mind…

“you coming?” johnny’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. he was already out of the car, holding the passenger door open for you.

you forced a smile, hoping it reached your eyes. “yeah, sorry. just lost in thought.”

he gave you a knowing look, but he didn’t press further. he knew better than to push you when you were like this.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

his apartment was everything yours wasn’t – bright, spacious, and impeccably decorated. you felt a pang of guilt, realizing you hadn’t even bothered to tidy up before he came over.

“go on, shower’s in there,” he said, gesturing down the hallway. “towels are in the linen closet. i’ll find you something to wear.”

you almost protested, but the feel of johnny’s softest t-shirt in your hands stopped you. it even smelled like him. you quickly showered, washing away the grime and the lingering sadness that clung to you like a bad cologne.

stepping out, you found the promised clothes on the counter. you pulled on the soft t-shirt, the scent of him enveloping you like a warm hug. it was comforting, familiar. safe.

you found johnny in the kitchen, already dicing vegetables with practiced ease. he looked up as you entered, a soft smile gracing his lips.

“there’s my boy,” he murmured, his gaze lingering for a moment on how his shirt hung on you. “feeling a little more human?”

you nodded, unable to stop the small smile that tugged at your lips. “yeah,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “yeah, i think i am.”

he was right. a shower, his clothes, his presence – it was already working its magic.

“good,” he said, his smile widening. “make yourself comfortable, baby,” he said, gesturing towards the plush sofa. “it’ll be ready soon.”

you sank onto the sofa, sinking into the soft cushions. you closed your eyes, letting out a sigh of contentment. you had forgotten how good it felt to be here.

“so,” he said, his voice coming from the kitchen. “talk to me. what’s got you so down?”

you opened your eyes, watching as he moved around the kitchen with an ease that never failed to amaze you. he was wearing a pair of sweatpants and a loose t-shirt, his hair tousled from running his fingers through it a million times.

you sighed, running a hand through your damp hair. “it’s just…everything,” you mumbled, not wanting to burden him with your problems.

he stopped what he was doing, turning to face you, his expression serious. “don’t do that,” he said, his voice firm. “don’t shut me out. talk to me.”

you hesitated, unsure of where to begin. how could you possibly explain the suffocating weight of your father’s expectations, the constant feeling of never being good enough, the fear that you were destined to end up alone and miserable just like him?

“it’s stupid,” you said, your voice barely a whisper.

“nothing you say is stupid,” he reassured you, walking over and sitting down beside you on the sofa.

you took a deep breath, steeling yourself. “it’s just…my dad called.”

johnny’s face hardened. he knew how much your father’s words could cut you, how deeply his disapproval ran.

“what did he say?” he asked, his voice tight.

you closed your eyes, the memory of your father’s condescending tone, his thinly veiled insults, sending a shiver down your spine.

“the usual,” you mumbled. “disappointment. failure. you know the drill.”

you opened your eyes to find johnny watching you, his expression a mixture of anger and concern.

“he’s an asshole, you know that right?” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “you’re worth ten of him, and don’t you ever forget that.”

you wanted to believe him, you really did. but the truth was, his words, as much as they stung, had a way of burrowing under your skin, planting seeds of doubt that were hard to shake off.

“it’s not that easy, johnny,” you said, your voice laced with frustration. “it’s like…it’s like his voice is always in my head, telling me i’m not good enough, that i’ll never amount to anything.”

johnny wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer until your head rested against his chest. you could hear the steady thump of his heart, a comforting rhythm against the chaos of your own thoughts.

“then we fight back,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble against your ear. “we drown out his voice with other voices – voices that love you, voices that support you, voices that remind you of your worth.”

he tilted your chin up with his finger, forcing you to meet his gaze. his eyes, usually so full of warmth and humor, were blazing with a fierce intensity that took your breath away.

“you are not your father,” he said, his voice firm but gentle. “you are kind, you are talented, you are worthy of love. don’t ever let anyone, not even your own blood, tell you otherwise.”

his words, spoken with such conviction, such unwavering belief, pierced through the darkness that had settled over you. for the first time in what felt like forever, you felt a glimmer of hope, a tiny spark igniting within the ashes of your despair.

“what would i do without you?” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

he chuckled, the sound a balm to your soul. “probably starve to death in a pile of dirty laundry,” he teased, his tone light despite the seriousness of the moment.

you swatted his arm playfully, a genuine smile finally reaching your lips. “hey, i’ll have you know i did laundry last week,” you retorted, even though you both knew it was a blatant lie.

he laughed, the sound echoing through the apartment, chasing away the last vestiges of darkness.

“alright, alright, i believe you,” he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. “now, how about that food i promised you? i’m starving.”

he stood up, pulling you along with him. you followed him into the kitchen, your heart feeling lighter than it had in days.

as he moved around the kitchen, preparing a simple but delicious meal of kimchi fried rice and bulgogi, you watched him with a newfound appreciation. he wasn’t just your boyfriend; he was your best friend, your confidante, your rock. he was the one person who never gave up on you, even when you had given up on yourself.

you ate in comfortable silence, the only sound the clinking of chopsticks and the occasional contented sigh. it was amazing how something as simple as a good meal and good company could make the world seem a little less bleak.

after dinner, you helped johnny wash the dishes, the two of you falling into an easy rhythm as you worked side-by-side. as you scrubbed a particularly stubborn pot, you felt his gaze on you.

“what?” you asked, looking up at him with a questioning smile.

“nothing,” he replied, shaking his head. “It’s just… i’m glad you’re here.”

you knew what he meant. he wasn’t just talking about being physically present in his apartment; he was talking about letting him in, letting him see the real you, the broken, messy parts that you usually kept hidden from the world.

“me too,” you whispered, leaning against him, seeking his warmth, his strength.

he wrapped his arms around you, holding you close.

“you’re safe here, you know,” he murmured against your hair. “safe with me.”

you closed your eyes, letting his words wash over you, soothing the ache in your heart. In his arms, you felt a sense of peace you hadn’t realized you were craving. he was your safe haven, your refuge from the storm.

and as you stood there, wrapped in his embrace, you knew that no matter what life threw your way, you’d be alright, with him by your side.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

after your post about malleus i finally said to myself “yeah i can’t force myself to pretend like i like any of the dormheads”. not like i hate them, but after their blots were over i felt like nothing in particular has ever changed about them. the only person who made me think yeah he’s a changed guy is vil. i was really surprised when in chapter 6(if it wasn’t the end of 5th? can’t remember) he apologised to the boys, his acceptance of his own mistakes and awful doings made him skyrocket in my mental tier list

[Referencing this post!]

Mmmm, I'm in a similar boat when it comes to the dorm leaders but for my own reasons; I like the vice dorm leaders a lot better simply because I tend to enjoy characters who play "supportive" roles (butler, bodyguard, knight, older sibling, etc.).

I don't know if I agree with the idea that the dorm leaders (well, + Jamil instead of Kalim) didn't change after their OBs. I believe that we miss out on seeing a lot of their development because it happens off-screen and we the players don't spend every waking moment checking up on the OB boys--but they definitely do change. More specifically, right after their OBs and sometimes upon their returns in the subsequent books. Just because we do not personally witness every step of their development doesn't mean it didn't happen.

Let's look at one example with the first dorm leader. After his defeat, Riddle cries and confesses he doesn't care about the silly rules, he just wants to enjoy his time with everyone. During the unbirthday party that follows his OB, Riddle sees some roses that are not entirely red and his peers expect him to lose his temper again. Instead, he laughs and says he can overlook it, then invites everyone to help him paint them properly. Riddle expresses similar restraint with his anger in book 2; he adopts a policy of strictly chastising and then trying to fix the problem instead of immediately collaring rule transgressors. (The exceptions being with, of course, the wrongdoers of book 2, like Leona.) Then, in book 6, we see Riddle struggling with his character change, as he is shown to still heavily rely on absolute rules and laws to govern his actions, and relies on himself to be the judge of them while shunting out others. It's only when he butts heads with Azul that he's able to be a little more flexible and recognize his peers' strengths. This makes sense, because the time period between book 1 and book 6 is only about 6 months; a complete shift in one's character and worldview won't happen that quickly, nor completely. Riddle must have been working on himself a lot and consciously trying to repress his anger--and he's imperfect at it. This is fine!! Character growth can be messy, slow, and non-linear--and this is true of how the dorm leaders change over time.

As for Vil (since he was specifically cited in your ask!), I'm of the opinion that his early book 6 apology was not the result of a character change. Vil was already very mature and self-aware prior to OBing; I think he would have still apologized if he thought something going wrong was genuinely his fault, as he holds himself to high standards and would acknowledge when he has fallen short of them (even in regards to morals). This is implied in his behavior before he overblotted too; in book 5, Vil repeatedly claims he will defeat Neige using his own power, fair and square. When he falls into despair and resorts to dirty methods to take his rival out, VIl is appalled by the "ugliness" of his actions and begs his classmates to "not look at [him]" because "[he's] so ugly" (referring to his ugly character/morals). This means he was aware of the cruelty of his actions and how they poorly reflect on him (ie he would have felt guilty and apologized afterwards about it anyway). Vil typically comes off as harsh, but he's truly noble when it comes to accepting when he has fucked up. I feel the real change in Vil is something that Rook highlights: the importance of loving oneself, regardless of what others may think of you. This development is made more apparent in book 6, which is the follow-up book to Vil's and allows him a time to shine. Whereas in book 5 Vil was obsessed with being a "hero" and public opinion, book 6 Vil declares to Idia "there are no heroes or villains" and that he is still "fairest of them all" (echoing a line Rook says in book 5), even as a withered old man.

I don’t want to ramble on for too long!! If you’re interested in reading about how the dorm leaders (+ Jamil) are grappling with their character arcs following their books, I’d recommend this post. It only goes up to Vil since the analysis is very book 6 heavy. I’d recommend this one for Idia, but be warned it does not take into account book 7 events since it was not out at the time of writing.

[ohtoseni]

like real people do

chapter three

Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers x OFC

read it on ao3

the government forces soulmates to be together, no matter what it takes.

it just so happens that eve's soulmates are two bisexual super soldiers.

or,

steve and bucky struggle with their eighteen-year-old soulmate who refuses to settle into her new life after being kidnapped by the government.

tags/warnings: soulmate mark au, forced throuple/poly relationship (f/m/m), extreme age gap, kidnapping, slow burn, dub con, mental health issues (ptsd, audhd, ocd, bipolar, ed), found family, emotional hurt/comfort, sensory overload and meltdowns, eventual smut, tooth-rotting fluff, power imbalance, domestic discipline (spanking as punishment), general teenage angst, daddy dom energy, oral fixation, praise kink, implied/referenced child abuse/csa, kink exploration, p in v sex, oral sex, non sexual age regression, lots of cuddles and snuggles and crying

<- previous | ch 1

Another empty bottle of beer hit the hardwood floor with a rattling thud. It rolled its way toward where Eve sat in the corner, coming to a stop at her naked foot. She gently kicked it, sending it rolling back at the pile of fellow empty bottles. A loud crash and an aggravated yell made the young girl jump, now sitting up straight against the corner of the wall.

“I told you, not a sound!” A freshly opened bottle was hurled at her, hitting and breaking against the wall next to her head. It soaked her body in its content, leaving her a wet puddle of piss and cheap beer. “I got a fucking headache because of you, and you just make everything worse.”

“Sorry…” Eve whispered an apology, averting her eyes back down to the dirty floor. The figure stood up from the armchair, stomping unsteadily toward the young girl.

“Didn’t I tell you to shut the fuck up?” A foot collided with Eve’s chest. All the air left her lungs while she tried to hug her body as if to protect it from another blow. Calloused hands gripped her matted brown hair, pulling her head forward before slamming it back violently into the corner of the wall.

“First you piss the bed, then you don’t fucking listen. What good are you? Can’t you tell I’m having a bad day because of you?” A harsh laugh broke through to Eve, drawing her back to the coarse voice. “You’re twelve years old and still wetting the bed. Really, what good are you?”

Tears prickled around her eyes as Eve rocked back and forth, still hugging her body in a tight grip. She tried to mentally leave the scene, regress into her head and thoughts, away from the abuse. But, as long as the figure loomed over her, she wasn’t safe to check out mentally. “I-I’m fifteen-“

“That’s what I fucking said.” Another beer bottle broke, this time above her head. The glass and alcohol showered her head, letting the tears finally flow free. “Did I give you permission to talk? Did I give you permission to cry?”

A soft noise drew Eve out of her thoughts.

“… Eve, baby?” Bucky gently shook the girl’s shoulder. Her eyes were trained on her cell phone, but nothing but a black screen was on the device. She stared at her reflection in the black void, lost deep in her head. The phone was taken out of her grasp, flinging her back into reality. She looked in the direction her phone went off in; Bucky’s hand to the very left of her. When did he get so close?

“Oh- Um- Sorry…” Embarrassed, Eve tried to sink further into the couch. She wasn’t sure just how long she was out of it for; she hoped it wasn’t too long.

“Are you feeling okay?” Steve asked as Bucky handed Eve her phone back. Her absence episode worried both of them, her thousand-yard stare into her phone wasn’t a normal state of being. As expected, Eve only nodded in confirmation, burrowing further in on herself. Steve looked toward Bucky, coming to a mutual agreement not to push it too far.

Bucky stood up slowly so as not to spook the ball of anxiety on the couch. Her eyes briefly flashed over to him, curious about his sudden movements, before falling back down to her lap. “We were talking about going shopping soon. You need clothes and stuff.”

Nodding, Eve remained silent, picking at a spot on the knee of her sweatpants. She wanted out. If Steve and Bucky took her shopping, she had an easy way to escape into the city. Sneaking off while they weren’t looking sounded like the best way to go about it. They were much faster than her, so outright running away from them seemed like a dumb idea. The point of running away was to not get caught.

The two men excused themselves to get dressed for the day, making sure to let Eve know if she needed anything, they would be in their bedroom. Eve remained seated until she heard a faint click of the door closing. She cautiously stood up, her eyes locked in on the hallway. Walking backward toward the door, she made sure to keep her steps light and slow, not wanting to alert Steve or Bucky about her movement.

The door was heavily locked- there had to be at least three methods of keeping the damn thing locked. Eve fiddled with all of them, unsure which ones were and weren’t locked. She kept twisting the doorknob, hoping that one combination was the correct one. When the door finally gave way, Eve gave one last look down the hall before slipping on her shoes hastily, making her great escape out the door.

Eve’s heart pounded in her chest as she bolted through the door, not bothering to close it behind her. She ran down the building’s steps, from the third floor to the ground floor, briefly tripping on the final step. Using the door to catch her balance, she pushed hard on the metal until she could slip out of the stairway.

The apartment building disappeared as she ran, taking random corners and alleys she was unfamiliar with. She had no destination in mind, no plan, just the instinct to put as much space between her and the suffocating walls of that apartment.

The streets of Brooklyn blurred past her; all she could focus on was running and her ragged gasps of air. Eventually, she could no longer ignore the sharpness in her muscles, the weight of the cold breeze on her face, and the pulsing of her ears to each of her rapid heartbeats. She slowed down as she turned one final corner into an empty alley, taking a moment to lean against the cool brick wall of some building.

The city seemed endless, and Eve honestly didn’t know why so chose now to run. She didn’t know anything about New York, or better yet the city layout. But now, she couldn’t find a way back to the apartment even if she wanted to. She sank to the ground, realizing she was lost and powerless.

Tears finally fell with loud, wrenching sobs. Eve continued to gasp for air from running too hard, with sobs and hiccups intertwined. She felt like she would puke from the combination of adrenaline, exercise, and crying. Now she was truly alone, with nothing but the world to face. No plan, no safety, just the endless, confusing unknown. And somehow, that felt worse than Steve and Bucky.

She wasn’t sure exactly how long she sat there, sobbing into her hands, but it felt like an eternity on her cold, aching body.

“Shit,” Steve mumbled as he did a double take down a nearby alley. Lo and behold, there sat Eve, curled up into a ball, sobbing and shuddering from the cold wind. He didn’t hesitate in running to her, kneeling and holding her in his arms. The tightness of the hug was more to lessen his own anxieties about losing his girl.

“Shh, honey. You’re safe, I’ve got you,” Steve kept repeating the words over and over to try and calm the young woman down as she choked on her sobs. Steve feared she would get sick as she dry heaved against his shoulder. Leaning back for a brief moment, he slid his black jacket off before placing it around Eve’s shoulder. She swam in the damned thing, looking even smaller than normal. Once her sobs died down to a more manageable level, Steve pulled his phone out of the jacket pocket to send Bucky a quick text.

‘Got her. Heading back now.’

Steve carried her the entire half mile back to the apartment, his hands locked together under her thighs. She would sniffle, rubbing her head back and forth on his shoulder to wipe away the tears and snot that built up on her face. He didn’t mind one bit. Occasional apologies fled from her lips, quiet enough that only Steve could hear. Of course, he immediately tried to put an end to the string of ‘sorry’s, reminding her it’s okay, she’s safe now, he’s here for her. Eve grew quieter, her breath evening out, falling into an exhausted sleep.

Turning the final corner, Steve saw his partner standing outside the building, pacing back and forth in worry. Once Bucky’s frantic eyes met his own, the brunette came running over to the duo.

“She’s out right now,” Steve said in warning, not wanting Bucky to accidentally disturb her slumber. “Poor thing is exhausted and freezing.”

Bucky reached a shaking hand out, brushing gently through Eve’s short matted hair, trying to calm his heart beating rapidly from pure adrenaline. Together, the two men sandwiched in the girl, causing her to squirm slightly in her sleep at the sudden new body heat. Steve and he shared a quick kiss, giving each other a silent look that said ‘Get Eve inside and safe’.

Walking up the stairs made Eve stir on Steve’s chest until the irregular movement woke her up. The first thing she noticed was that her head hurt, badly. It pulsated with her heartbeat, creating a ferocious tension in her temples. She pushed her face further into Steve’s shoulder until she saw colors, liking the light feeling it brought her. For now, she can forget where she is.

A hand brushing her hair back from her face broke her out of her trance. Eve turned her head slightly, looking face to face with Bucky with heavy, painful eyes. He looked sad but had a soft smile on his face. He asked if she wanted something, but Eve wasn’t listening to anything besides the pulsing of her head. Wanting to make him go away, she nodded her head just to appease him.

Eve was torn from her warmth as Steve set her down on the couch, wrapping her tightly in a quilt that normally rested on the back of the sectional. The blanket was warm and silky smooth, allowing her to melt into it. Resting her head against the back of the couch, she wiggled her cold toes that rested on the plush couch opposite her. They started to hurt from running in the cold and Eve tried her best to get blood recirculating to them.

Bucky returned with a steaming mug of hot chocolate. He sat down next to Eve, carefully lifting her legs up to not disturb her too much before placing them on his lap. Eve’s eyes were still heavy, blinking slowly as if every second she remained awake was a battle. Her focus shifted from Bucky to the white mug being offered to her, weakly lifting her arms to accept the warm offering. Bucky said nothing, too scared to startle her out of the gentle comfort she found.

Holding the cup in her hands, she didn’t even try to take a sip. The mug served as a hand warmer of sorts, Eve savoring the warmth radiating to her palms. She cradled it to her chest like a lifeline, smiling softly like a child.

Seeing how accepting Eve was to Bucky’s touch, Steve shuffled closer to her on the couch, allowing her to lean back onto his shoulder in silent comfort. Without thinking, Eve leaned her head back into him, exposing her neck. She felt safe for once. Reaching a hand up, Steve gently stroked her cheek, watching her heavy eyes flutter close as he touched her cool pale skin. Eve looked so vulnerable, yet so peaceful, cuddled in between her soulmates. Her head wasn’t entirely there, but she liked it that way.

Bucky gave the two of them a soft reassuring smile. As Eve's breathing evened out, he reached over to grab the full mug. The hot chocolate was now lukewarm, having served its purpose. Her breathing became more rhythmic and slow, falling asleep in her cozy soulmate cocoon.

———

They decided to take Eve shopping later in the day when there would be fewer people in the store. Very few people did their shopping at this hour, Steve and Bucky included, which is why they chose it. They didn’t mind staying up later to make Eve more comfortable.

Eve wouldn’t take their hands to hold, opting to hold onto the side of the cart. She looked adorable holding on while Steve pushed it, her free hand playing with her bottom lip. After her two-hour-long nap, she had spent the rest of the day wound tight with her shoulders hunched, biting the skin around her nails raw. Bucky, walking behind Eve, reached over her shoulder to gently pull her hand away from her mouth. That lasted all of about ten seconds with her deciding to chew on her sweatshirt sleeve instead.

“Go crazy, doll,” Bucky said as they approached the women’s clothing section. Eve, however, didn’t make any indication of wanting to look at the clothes. She looked rather intimidated by them. Her eyes darted in between the various racks, never quite looking directly at the clothes. She tightened her grip on the cart as if its sole purpose was to keep her grounded. Eve wasn’t quite sure what she was supposed to do, the uncertainty gnawing at her with each passing second.

The overhead lights buzzed softly, dousing the store in an uncomfortable white light. It was too bright against the endless rows of fabric, too open, too exposed. The racks watched Eve, waiting for her to make the wrong move.

Steve and Bucky shared a glance, silently deciding to take the reins on this shopping trip. Bucky placed a gentle hand on the small of Eve’s back, guiding her toward a nearby rack. He felt her breath hitch, almost as if the very act of choosing something would kill her.

“Oh, this shirt is nice,” Steve said, pulling out a white top from a rack. “It has cute bows and stuff.”

“Very insightful fashion advice, babe,” Bucky deadpanned as he browsed around with Eve. It was more like they walked the aisles together, Bucky looking at the various clothes while Eve stared at her feet. Bucky felt her breathing grow more and more uneven, not missing her frantic eye movements between the floor, the cart, Steve, and the exit. She was on the verge of a panic attack.

Bucky quickly guided her back to Steve. The blonde looked up to see her teary eyes and shaking frame, immediately leaving the clothes behind to comfort her. Steve ran a hand through Eve’s hair, she seemed the like that kind of touch the most. The girl closed her eyes and leaned into his touch. She was trying so hard to be good, to keep calm, but everything was too much. The options, the bright lights, the static mixed in with the music.

Plus, the thought of her body and her size made her want to puke or pass out, she couldn’t quite place the feeling.

“I’m going to pick out some stuff here. You two can take a walk around for a bit until she calms down.” Bucky organized a game plan for the shopping trip. While Eve was distracted by Steve’s calming touches, Bucky subtly lifted the back collar of her shirt, checking the size on the tag. Small, not unexpected, but the shirt seemed too big on her tiny frame. He would have to eyeball the size apparently.

Steve nodded, slipping his hand from Eve’s hair to take her hand in his. She didn’t push back this time- they were making progress. “C’mon, sweetheart,” he murmured, giving her fingers a gentle squeeze. “Let’s go check out the books or something.”

Eve let herself be led away, giving one look back at Bucky. He already had some clothes piled in the cart- more than Eve herself had put in. Steve gently pulled her along, walking along the main path of the store, stopping to look at whatever caught Eve’s attention. Steve was a patient man, letting her look around curiously and lead him down random aisles.

They passed the home goods section and Eve made a beeline for the display of fluffy throw blankets. Steve couldn’t help but chuckle at her enthusiasm, watching her touch and stroke every blanket folded neatly on the shelf.

“You like those?” He asked gently. Eve hesitated slightly before responding with a tiny ‘yeah’. Without a second thought, Steve grabbed the one Eve was currently stroking- a baby pink blanket with strawberries- and draped it over his arm. “Alright, we’re getting it,” he said, matter-of-factly, as if there was no room for arguments.

Eve blinked up at him, unsure how to respond. It wasn’t something she asked for, but Steve just smiled down at her like it was the most normal thing in the world. She looked away, chewing on the inside of her cheek. It felt… nice.

They wandered further, eventually making their way back to the book section. Steve let go of her hand, trusting her enough to let her move at her own pace now. She hovered by a display of new releases, trailing her finger over the spines without actually showing interest in any of them.

“You can get a book, too, y’know,” Steve encouraged, “Or a couple.”

Eve bit her lip, shifting her weight from foot to foot. “I don’t…. I don’t have any money.”

Steve’s brows furrowed and he shook his head. “That’s not something you need to worry about, honey. We’ve got it covered.”

She glanced up at him with uncertainty in her eyes. She wasn’t used to people just buying her things. It made her chest feel tight- she wondered what Steve would want in return for it.

Seeing her hesitation, Steve decided to take a different approach. “Tell you what,” he said, running his hand through Eve’s hair again, pulling slightly to make her eyes meet his. “You pick a book, and I’ll pick one too. Then we can read together.”

That caught her attention. Reading had always been her quiet escape from reality, a comforting safety net. And the thought of reading with Steve, of having that shared moment, made the thought of picking something out a little less daunting. Eve looked at him, a smile spreading across her face, probably the first real, genuine smile Steve had seen from her.

She turned on her heels, going into the next aisle of books. Steve grinned, looking after her.

“That’s my girl.”

[keyboardsmashess]

The Siren, or The Heart of the Matter

Chapter Eleven: The Test, or Clint's No Good Very Bad Day

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC

Warnings: language, eventual smut, fluff, angst, canon-typical violence, implied/referenced SA, described panic attack MINORS DNI. A/N: Hello bbs! I've updated the tags to include some new themes, so be sure to check them out. Today's chapter includes lightly implied SA (no details) and a first-person description of a panic attack. Please read with awareness, and do what you need to take care of yourself <3

Summary: Cleo's tests and training continue, but they prompt some unwanted memories.

Chapter Directory

I enter the lab with a dramatic sigh. “Any chance you nerds can figure out how to get this thing out of my chest? It’s a bitch to find clothes that cover it.”

Stark eyes my sundress-and-cardigan combo (different from the last set - it’s sort of my unofficial uniform). “Not exactly high priority, Glowstick. Besides, I think it’s rather becoming. You should lean into it.”

I narrow my eyes at him and sit down. “Excuse me if I don’t take fashion advice from the man who thinks red and gold are the only colors that exist.”

He scoffs, putting a hand to his chest. “I’m offended. You’ve offended me, Lite Brite. Doc, she’s offended me.”

Bruce doesn’t even look up from his computer screen. “And yet, you persevere.”

“What’s on the agenda today, B? Please tell me I can do whatever it is sitting down - Captain Speedy made me run this morning.” Tony looks horrified, and I nod at him solemnly. “It was exactly as heinous as it sounds.”

Bruce holds up a complex-looking machine. “You can definitely sit for this.”

I huff a sigh of relief. “This is why you two are my favorites.”

Tony looks at the ceiling. “JARVIS, tell me you got that?”

“Recording has been saved, sir.”

I roll my eyes. “So what is that thing and what am I doing with it?” 

Bruce looks excited. “Okay, Tony and I have been talking about what happened in the med bay with the glass and the restraints, and the changes to your larynx, tensor tympani, and stapedius. That paired with the story you told us got me thinking about sonic frequencies. I created this machine to measure -”

He pauses to wave to someone behind me. I turn to see Barnes walk in, hands shoved sullenly in his pockets. Since our run, he’s also changed - wearing jeans and a henley that does nothing to disguise the muscles I’d been gaping at earlier. “Hey, Grumps, long time no see,” I say, playing casual.

He jerks his head in response and takes a seat near Bruce. Tony winks at me. “Just in case you go supersonic.” I scowl, but nod. I get it.

Bruce picks up where he left off. “Basically, we think that at least some of your powers lie in the ability to cause sound to vibrate at impossibly high frequencies, which would explain the changes to your voice box and ear muscles - your body adapting so you don’t hurt yourself. I made a device to measure those frequencies so we can test my theory, and I just need you to make some noise.”

“Okay, that’s easy enough. How should I begin?”

He and Tony put on noise-canceling headphones. I notice they don’t offer a pair to Barnes, but I’m not given an opportunity to ask why. 

“Start with a scream!” Tony shouts.

I glance nervously at Barnes, then give a thumbs up and open my mouth.

Two hours later, my throat is killing me and Tony has to replace several beakers, a computer screen, and one of the lab’s glass windows. Barnes looks completely unbothered.

“Sorry again, Tony,” I say as I finish putting duct tape over the cracks in the window to keep them from spreading. The tape has little Iron Man logos on it.

He holds up his hands. “No, no, it’s fine. I should have expected this. I’ll see if we can whip up a padded room for next time.”

“As long as you don’t leave me in it.”

He smirks. “Don’t tempt me.”

Bruce doesn’t even seem to notice our conversation. His little machine is plugged into the computer and the results are uploading as we speak. He suddenly raises his head, eyes gleaming.

“Tony, you gotta see this.” Tony gets a manic look as he rushes to read over Bruce’s shoulder.

“See what?” I ask.

Bruce doesn’t look away from the screen. “We measure sonic frequency in hertz. The average glass, for example, would shatter at around 550 hertz.”

I grin. “Like in a cartoon? With opera singers?”

He nods. “Exactly like that, except it’s not just in cartoons - it happens in real life. What can’t happen, however, is metal shattering in the same way. A metal like steel doesn’t even vibrate until you reach a couple thousand hertz. Nothing should be able to shatter it, especially not when the metal is vibranium like the restraints you destroyed in the med bay. The reason it’s so strong is because it’s supposed to literally absorb vibrations - you shouldn’t have been able to do what you did.”

I frown. “But I did.”

“But you did.” Tony says. “The Doc and I thought you must be able to create pretty high frequencies to pull that off, and we were right. You didn’t reach anything close to vibranium levels today, but you’re still off the charts.”

I step closer and try to read over Bruce’s other shoulder, but it’s all gibberish to me. “How high?”

“Cheech and Chong high,” Tony says.

I huff a laugh despite myself and wave my hand. “You know what, don’t bother with numbers - it won’t mean much to me anyway. Just tell me how I control it to keep from hurting people.”

They exchange a look and Tony pats me on the shoulder. “That’s what you’re going to have to figure out.”

“Great,” I say hoarsely, rubbing at my throat. “Not today, though.”

Tony starts leading me to the door of the lab. “No, kid, today, you go drink some tea or something and let the Doc and I talk science.”

I allow myself to be led into the hallway. As Tony shuts the door behind me, I can hear Barnes ask from the corner, “Does this mean what I think it means?”

I don’t wait to hear the answer. I don’t think I want to know.

******

In the afternoon, Natasha finds me on the couch in the common area, dozing off with a cup of tea in my lap. 

She sits next to me. “How’s it going?”

I sit up and wipe sleep from my eyes. “Oh, it’s going great. Steve dragged me around City Park at the speed of light this morning, and Tony and Bruce discovered I can break just about anything through the power of scream. They have no clue how to control it, though, so I get to figure it out.”

She quirks an eyebrow. “That all?”

“Sorry, I’ll stop complaining.” I sigh. “How are you?”

“Oh, you know, same old same old. Clint and I just got back from a mission.”

“How’d it go?”

Her smile is near-feral. “I had a great time. Clint, not so much, but he’ll survive.”

I take in the faint traces of blood on her utility suit. “Remind me to never fight against you, Nat.”

She nudges me playfully. “Anyway, I thought we could get started with some training now that we’re back. Wanna meet us in the gym?”

I groan and throw my head against the back of the couch. “But I already did things this morning,” I whine.

She looks at me with faux-seriousness. “Do you think the forces of evil are going to give you a cool-down period?”

I sit up with a grin. “Probably not, but if they don’t I’ll just scream at them.”

Her eyes sharpen. “Cleo, you never know what could happen in a fight. You could get injured, or restrained. They could figure out how to counteract your powers. If you really want to do this, you have to be able to hold your own without all the bells and whistles.”

I sigh, slap my cheeks a few times. “Fuck, okay, I know. You’re right. Let me change, again, and I’ll meet you there.”

When I arrive at the gym, Natasha and Clint have changed out of their utility suits and into regular workout clothes, making me feel more at home in my leggings and tank top. Clint, however, looks a little worse for wear.

His grin is still bright, though. “You came!”

I side-eye him. “I wasn’t under the impression that I had another option.”

He throws an arm around my shoulders. “You don’t, but I’m still glad to see you.” He leads me over to a section of the gym where the floor is covered with mats. Nat is waiting for us near some heavy bags.

“What happened to you?” I ask, gesturing to his eyebrow that is now half as long as its twin.

“Oh, this? I got a little bit set on fire today.”

“How do you -”

He cuts me off with a grimace. “Please don’t ask.” 

I nod and pat him on the shoulder. “Well, it looks… good - very edgy.” 

He grins.

“She’s lying, you look like an idiot,” Nat says, ignoring his squawk of protest. “To start, Cleo, let’s talk about what kind of experience you have. And keep in mind that ‘none’ is a perfectly fine answer.”

I shift on my feet, looking between the two. “I’ve been doing yoga fairly consistently for a few years. And after I was -” I catch myself. Natasha notices. “After I decided I wanted to,” I say lamely, “I took a few self-defense classes. I liked them, so I took some muay thai classes from one of the instructors. But, you know,” I gesture down at my body. “I’m obviously more pen than sword.”

Natasha looks like she wants to ask about my slip-up, but she doesn’t, and I appreciate it. “All of that will definitely help you,” she says instead. “You’ll have much better balance and core strength going in thanks to yoga, and we may be able to skip past some of the basics if you learned them already from your classes.”

She pulls me over to stand on one of the mats. “I’d like to see what you’re working with. I’m going to have Clint come at you, and you just do your best, okay? He’s moving a little slow today, so you have that working in your favor.”

He shoots her a glare, but gets into position nonetheless.

I swallow, trying not to look nervous. I can do this. This is fine. Clint is safe, and this is fine. I nod. “Okay.”

Clint keeps a carefully neutral expression on his face, and I appreciate that he isn’t trying to look menacing or falsely positive. I balance my weight evenly between both feet and wait for him to come my way.

He rushes forward and I take advantage of my height to duck under his arm. I barely evade his grasp, but he’s quick to spin and grab me from behind. I can’t see him now, I just feel his arms restraining me, and I feel a pounding in my chest. The room around me fades away, and my entire world is simply panic.

I throw my head back, smashing it into his nose, and when he loosens his grip in surprise or pain, I thrust my elbow backward into his stomach. Twisting to face him, I put my hands on his shoulders and throw all of my strength into my knee, bringing it up between his legs. He crumbles with a hoarse “Oh god.”

I back away, letting Natasha amble over to check on him, and while she’s distracted I take some deep breaths.

Not here. Not now. Hold it together, Blake.

When my legs are no longer shaking under my weight, I kneel to join Nat on the floor next to Clint. “Are you okay down here?”

He groans in response, clutching his groin.

Natasha gives his shoulder a hard pat, causing another groan, and stands up, pulling me with her. “Walk it off, buddy. We’ve had worse.” She turns to me. “Not exactly the most refined attack, but impressive nonetheless. I think this is going to come more easily to you than we expected.”

“Thanks,” I say, then shift my gaze to Clint. “Sorry, man. I sort of went on autopilot there.”

“M’fine,” he wheezes. “You did great.”

Nat frowns down at him. “I think we should call it for now. We can start fresh in a day or two, after Clint’s had a chance to rest.”

I nod and the two of us head for the door, leaving Clint on the exercise mat. “Should we help him?”

Natasha waves her hand, not even looking back. “Nah, he’ll be fine.” I shrug and follow her to the hallway. “I’m going out for a drink - want to join me?”

I smile at the offer. “Thank you, but today has been… a lot. I think I should head up to my room and rest so I’ll be fresh for tomorrow.”

She shrugs. “Suit yourself. I’ll text you the bar’s address in case you change your mind.”

I nod, then wait for her to disappear into the elevator before sprinting up the stairs to my room. As soon as I make it inside with the door shut behind me, I collapse to the ground. 

Alone now, my breathing starts to race and I can barely get any air into my lungs. Spots start to form at the edges of my vision and I scramble to press my back against the wall, balling up and hugging my knees to my chest. 

Someone is sobbing, crying “no, no, no,” but it sounds like it’s coming through a tunnel. Is it me? I slam the heel of my palm into my forehead a few times, trying to snap out of it, but I only manage to give myself a headache as I sob harder. The weight of this day and this week and this month and this entire damned life presses down into me all at once, and I can’t escape it no matter how hard I try. My heart or whatever the hell is in there pounds in my chest, my ears, my fucking fingers, and I am suddenly so, so very tired.

You can do this, Blake - you have to be able to do this.

I close my eyes, press my fingertips to my temples, and try to slow my breathing. Inhale for four, hold for four, exhale for four, hold for four. Repeat. 

You have to be able to do this.

I don’t know how much time passes, but my sobbing slows and eventually stops altogether. Breathing a bit more easily now, I allow my body to slump over to the side, finding a fetal position on the floor. My arm comes under my head like a pillow, and before I know it, I’m fast asleep.

******

When I wake, it’s dark outside and my phone tells me it's one in the morning. I slowly sit up, stretching muscles that have grown quite sore between the workouts and sleeping on the hardwood floor. I sigh. I know I won’t be able to go back to sleep for a while yet, so I stand on aching legs and shuffle to my closet to change into some pajama shorts and a baggy t-shirt. I swing by the bathroom to splash some cold water on my face, hoping it will ease some of the redness around my eyes, and then slip on some thick socks.

I try to be silent as I make my way to the common area, and I whisper my order to the coffee maker. Thankfully, it hears me all the same, and I take my chai tea through the door by the bar and out onto the wrap-around terrace. I ease into the first chair I see, and I’m taking a sip when someone clears their throat.

I inhale, choking on the hot drink, and whip my head around to find Barnes sitting a few chairs away. Once I’m able to stop coughing long enough to catch my breath, I exhale shakily and shoot him a small smile. “I guess that’s karma for this morning.”

His laugh is short and surprised, and I’m taken by how much I like the sound of it. “I was trying to get your attention so I didn’t startle you, but I guess I did, anyway.”

I shrug. “It’s fine, I’m the one who intruded.” I make to stand up. “I’ll just head in.”

“No!” he says, both of us looking equally surprised by the speed and volume of his outburst. “I mean, I’m just sitting out here. No need for you to leave.”

I settle back into the chair with a small smile. “Thanks.” I don’t know if it’s the quiet of this barely-morning moment, or if we’re both too exhausted to fight, but there’s a sort of ease between us that has never been there before. “Couldn’t sleep?” I ask.

He looks up at the stars. “At this point, the nights I can sleep seem to be the exception. You?”

I shake my head. “I crashed after training with Nat and Clint, so now my body’s convinced it’s morning, the little fucker.”

His smile is small, but it’s there. “You’ve had quite the day.”

I follow his gaze to the sky. “Yeah, well… I never expected it to be easy, trying to hang with the world’s mightiest heroes.”

He laughs darkly. “Right.”

I peek over at him, but he’s still looking up. “What, not feeling very mighty today, Man Bun?”

I see his eyes roll. “You’re impossible.”

I laugh, and we share a companionable silence for a few beats. I’m almost startled when he speaks again, his voice quiet and low.

“I guess I never really do. Feel mighty, that is.”

I hum. “I’d imagine you’re not alone in that, what with the massive amount of pressure you all face.”

He shakes his head with a humorless chuckle. “No, I’m pretty sure it’s just me. Steve is… he’s always had more guts than he knows what to do with. Ever since we were kids. Stark thinks he’s a gift to us all, you know that. Banner is quieter, maybe, but he’s good at the science thing and he knows it. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Nat falter, and Clint will probably die laughing at his own jokes one day. Thor is… well, you’ll see when you meet him, but he definitely isn’t one for self-doubt.”

Part of me wants to joke this moment away, to tell him that this is the most I’ve ever heard him speak, but I don’t. I don’t want to lose… whatever this is. “I think you’d be surprised by what goes on behind the scenes. Even the most confident people have their moments.”

Barnes glances at me. “Do you?”

My eyes widen. “You think I’m confident?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know, you always seem to get the last word. When you’re yapping about books or all this Atlantis stuff, it’s clear you know how smart you are.”

I turn, sitting criss-cross applesauce, and face him. “If I didn’t know better, Grumps, I’d think you were complimenting me.”

He glares at me, but there’s no heat in it. “I’m just making observations.”

I snort, looking down so he doesn’t see the pink in my cheeks. “Yeah, well, what you’re observing is just someone who has learned how to put up a really good front.”

Barnes sits a bit straighter and looks at me, really looks at me, a depth to his gaze that I haven’t seen before. For a moment, it’s just this - just us, sitting on a balcony with the whole of the city spread out beneath us like a twinkling, velvet blanket. My breath hitches as I realize how very blue his eyes are. Oh. Oh, no.

He opens his mouth to speak.

“Hey, I didn’t know anyone else was up!” 

We both jump, Barnes twisting quickly in his chair to face away from me. Knowing he doesn’t want to be seen looking chummy with me stings for a brief, sharp moment, but I shove that down and turn to find the source of the noise.

Clint is walking through the common area, a bandage on his nose drawing attention to the black eye I gave him earlier in the day. At some point since training, he’s apparently tried to draw in the second half of his eyebrow with a brown marker, and it looks… real bad. 

As he nears, I realize he isn’t slowing down, and I jump up.

“Clint, wait! The door -”

I’m interrupted by the slam his body makes as it rams full-speed into the clear glass.

“ - is closed…” I finish quietly. 

Clint looks up, nose gushing blood, and if I didn’t break it earlier, it’s certainly broken now. “Thanks, Cleo,” he says, voice strained. “I actually discovered that all on my own.”

[sinofwriting]

Whatever You Need - Daniel Ricciardo

Words: 3,517 Summary: After a shit one night stand, this was the last thing she expected to happen. Note(s)/Warnings(s): Angst with a happy ending, Best Friends to Lovers. Panic/Anxiety Attack, Near Throwing Up, Implied/Referenced/Mentioned Sex, Pregnancy, Discussion of Abortions, Off Screen Abortion. I promise that this has a happy ending. Reader goes by the nickname Kola (call-uh)

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Sitting down beside Daniel, she practically buries her face in the mug of coffee he had made for her. It’s near scalding hot making her hiss, but she still takes another drink before setting it down and slumping in the booth, a frown on her face, eyes screwed shut as she wills the caffeine to kick in.

“Y’alright, Kola?” Daniel asks, giving her a gentle nudge to the ribs. She has to smile at the nickname he gave her when they were barely five, mispronouncing the word Koala. Now nearly thirty years later it was a name she’s heard more than her actual name. “I’m never having a one night stand again or just having sex in general.” “Oh?” And she can hear his eyebrows raise. Her eyes flutter open as he presses her coffee back into her hands. “He told me not to cum.” Daniel’s eyebrows raise higher, “what?” She nods, smiling though it’s fake. “Yep.” She pops the p. “Best part? I wasn't even close to finishing.” He lets out a low whistle. “Did he at least?” She sends him a look, cutting him off. “Really? Of course not. He gave a few more strokes, came in me, then practically collapsed on top of me. I didn’t even have an interest in getting myself off after.”

Daniel wraps an arm around her, pulling her into his side and she gladly pushes closer, resting her head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Kola.” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to her head. “Anything I could do for you?” His voice pitches lower and it makes her breath hitch, want simmering inside of her. The words, the request is on the tip of her tongue. Because she knows if she said it that Daniel would. He’d gladly take her to his hotel room and take her apart. But the irrational fear of something going wrong and losing him forever because they finally cross the line from friends to lovers makes it way to the forefront of her mind and she shakes her head. “No, Danny.” She murmurs, and she can feel him slump a bit in disappointment. “Just need this.” “Of course, Kola. Whatever you need.”

—

She stares numbly at the test results open on her laptop screen. Because they couldn’t be right, shouldn’t be right. But when she screws her eyes shut, rubs at them and then opens them, nothing has changed. The same thing is there. A hand flies up to her mouth as a sob starts to come out, tears leaving her eyes, because this isn’t what was supposed to happen.

Her other hand joins in covering her mouth as more sobs leave. And her brain is just repeating the word no as she tries to keep quiet not wanting to wake Daniel in the other room. The thought of Daniel has her stomach turning and she’s scrambling for the bathroom, nearly slamming the door shut behind her before her knees hit the hard tile in front of the toilet as she dry heaves into the bowl.

Her hands clutch at the toilet as nothing comes up, the sounds of sobs and heaving intermixing.

Eight weeks pregnant, eight fucking weeks. And she hadn’t sex with anyone in a year except for that stupid guy that couldn’t even make her cum. She shudders at the reminder of that night. And now she was pregnant with his baby. His baby and not Daniel’s. Her heart clenches painfully inside of her chest.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. She had always wanted it to be Daniel’s baby that she had. She wanted that with him, a family. She wanted the slow, sensual sex with him as they tried for a baby. She wanted the weekly progress pics as her belly grew, Daniel surely smiling behind the camera as he took every single one. She wanted his hand resting over her belly, where her womb was, as they tried. She wanted a ring on her finger, the day they met engraved on the inside. She wanted Daniel. All of that was supposed to happen. Her first baby was supposed to be with him. All of her babies were supposed to be with him. And now that was ripped from her. All because she stupidly decided to have a one night stand, wanting the edge taken off by something that wasn’t her own hands or vibrator. And instead she had only gotten more frustrated and pregnant.

She’s no longer heaving but there’s still a sick feeling in her stomach as she lets go of the toilet and curls up in the corner of the bathroom, arms wrapping around her knees as she presses her face against them. Tears still run down her face as she takes short, stuttering breaths.

She was alone and pregnant. She had no partner to share the weight with. It was just going to be her. The somewhat tentative progress she had started making in getting over her irrational fear of losing Daniel once they crossed the line into more, vanishing.

Her breath catches in her throat, her chest constricting, panic fully settling in and taking a hold of her body. She digs her nails into her legs hoping the pain will restart her breathing like it has before, but it doesn’t and her mind is starting to panic. She feels numb and she’s starting to lose the feeling of her bare skin underneath her fingers and nails.

Then there’s hands on her own, pulling them away, pulling her nails out of her skin. There’s a voice bouncing off the bathroom walls but she can’t hear any of the words, can’t lift her head to see it. But then her head is being lifted away from knees, a single finger she thinks lifting her chin.

Daniel’s face is blurry and she doesn’t know if it’s from the tears or how she still hasn’t taken a breath.

“Kola. Kola.” Her name is faint in her ears and Daniel’s face comes a bit into focus. “Breath, Kola. Breath for me.” And then one of her hands is placed on his bare chest, just over the heated skin where his heart lays underneath. “C’mon, Kola. Breath.” Her intake of air is sharp, stinging, makes her cough at the force of it. Eyes closing at the pain.

“That’s my girl.” He murmurs, a hand now rubbing her back. Her next few breaths are just as sharp, but slowly they transition into shaky breaths until finally her breathing is matching his. “Danny.” “You alright, Kola? You haven’t had an attack that bad in a long time.” “I’m okay.” Her voice is quiet with exhaustion and she tilts her head back, letting it rest against the wall, eyes still closed. She can feel him looking at her disbelief, but he doesn’t say anything. Just stays crouched next to her.

Slowly opening her eyes, they focus on the patterned ceiling before she finally looks at Daniel, worry and care on his face. “Help me up?” He nods immediately standing, her hand that had still been resting on his chest at the quick movement. And then he’s grabbing both of her hands, hauling her up. When she stumbles, he’s quick to wrap an arm around her. “Let’s get you to bed, ya?” She nods, leaning into him.

Kola isn’t even surprised when instead of taking her to her room in the large hotel suite, he guides her into his. He helps her under the covers, adjusts the pillows for her before climbing in next to her. The two of them both turned on their sides to face each other.

His heart is thundering in his chest as he looks at her. Terror still somewhat grips him from waking up to the sound of sobs and then seeing her on the bathroom floor in the midst of one of the worst panic attacks he’s ever seen her have.

“Did something happen?” He asks, hand reaching out to intertwine their fingers, needing her touch. “I got my test results back from my check up.” His eyebrows furrow, remembering her going to the doctor for her yearly physical just a few days ago. “Did they find something?” He’s holding his breath as he waits for her answer, hoping, praying, that she isn’t sick. Doesn’t know what he’d do with himself if his girl, his world, was so sick that it sent her into a panic attack. “Yeah.” The slow answered breath, makes his heart clench as he takes a shaky breath. “What was it?” His voice is shaky. “I mean, is it serious?” The question makes something strange cross her face, something like heartbreak and suddenly his hand is cold, fingers no longer intertwined with hers. And she’s withdrawn into herself, even scooted back a little, like she’s prepared for a blow. “I’m pregnant.”

He stares at her, mind scrambling, the words struggling to process. But when they do the terror that had been gripping him, the worry vanishes, replaced by joy and he’s cradling her face in his hands, pressing his lips to her forehead in a kiss that doesn’t work because he’s smiling too wide.

Because she’s pregnant. There’s going to be a little Kola in the world. Hopefully a little boy that will be just like her but with his pension for chaos. He doesn’t think his heart could take her having a girl first, a little girl that looks just like her, he’d never be able to say no to her, just like he can’t say no to her mum. Though he doubts he’d be able to say no to a little boy either. But then again a little boy first means that when they do have a girl, he’ll have help protecting her from stupid boys who can only think with their dicks and are dumber than a box of bricks.

“Really?” He questions, “I mean, fuck.” He pulls back a little, still holding her face as he gives a breathless laugh. “How far along?” She stares at him, silence lingering between them for a moment. “Eight weeks. I’m eight weeks.” Her words are quiet and the look on her face, the way she had pulled away from him finally registers.

And his own joy, joy that he had let come over him without thinking about her, is gone. “I,” he opens then closes his mouth. “Do I,” he can’t make the words come out of his mouth, so he doesn’t. “Are we upset?” She gives a hesitant nod and he watches as the fingers that had been intertwined with his, curl into her palm.

He struggles to find why she is. She wants kids, they want kids. It had always been something they talked about in the future. He had held her hand nearly three years ago when she got tested to make sure she could have kids after finding out about a friend having fertility issues. She had held his when he also got tested just to get all their ducks in a row.

Was she upset just because it was unexpected? Eight weeks meant it was from that dickhead that couldn’t even get her halfway there. Was it that? Because it was the result of a one night stand. A shit one at that. The memory of that morning still makes him angry. She rarely gave into the odd temptation of a one night stand and he hates that it wasn’t good for her. It’s easy to ignore the jealousy there that it was someone else she fell into bed with. It didn’t matter who they were with before, as soon as they crossed the line that would be it, it would just be them for the rest of their lives.

His hand slips from her face to the bed, but he keeps his one that’s between the pillow and her cheek. “Why are we upset?” “It’s just me, Dan.” His brows furrowed in confusion. “I’m alone.” He opens his mouth to protest, because what the fuck? She wasn’t alone, he was here, right here, but he can’t because she’s continuing, a heart wrenching broken look on her face. “And it’s not yours. It’s supposed to be yours.” Understanding and a little sorrow of his own fills him. “Oh, Kola.” He breathes, then gathers her in his arms, holding her close.

“You aren’t alone.” He murmurs. “Never alone.” He punctuates it by kissing the top of her head. Holding her this close and understanding her upset makes the question that he wanted to ask earlier come easier even if he still dances around it a little. “If and I do mean if you want this baby it will be mine. Maybe not biologically, but we know that doesn’t matter really.” She tries pushing away, but his hold is too strong. “You don’t get it Daniel.” “What don’t I get?” Frustration leaks into voice, hating that she’s trying to pull away from him after having already done so once tonight. “What don’t I get?” He asks again and uses her name, her actual name. “It’s just,” her breathing has picked up a little, he can feel her legs move against his, and he realizes she’s flustered. “It was supposed to happen a certain way.”

He doesn’t say anything and she groans, pressing her head into his chest, trying to hide and he lets her for all of five seconds, wanting to see her face, needing to see it as arousal starts to burn inside him. “How was it supposed to happen?” He asks, voice low. She stares at the bare skin of his chest, feeling more blood rush to her cheeks. “I,” she opens and closes her mouth, licking her lips. “We were supposed to be married.” Her voice is quiet, barely above a whisper. He makes a low noise in the back of his throat, the hand on her hip tightening at the thought. “My ring would have the day we met engraved on the inside.” She hesitantly rests her dominant hand over his heart and is emboldened by the way she can feel it racing. “It would be slow, not so slow that its torture but close. You’d barely pull out the whole time, wanting to make sure that when you do finish it would be as deep as it can get inside of me.” His nostrils flair and he can feel his hardened cock twitch. Her eyes flicker down to where he’s somewhat pressing against her and then she’s taking his hand off her hip, ignoring the noise of protest he makes and she slips them under her shirt before pressing his where her uterus is. “You’d have your hand here nearly the whole time. Just wanting to feel, imagining me getting bigger.” “Kola,” he breathes. Finally she lifts her head and their eyes meet, the need and desire in his eyes making her gasp. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips and he snaps.

His lips are on hers, his hand on her lower belly moving to grip at her hip as his other hand rests on the nape of her neck. She eagerly returns the kiss, just about moaning when he rolls onto his back and settles her on top of him, not breaking the kiss except for a brief moment when his lips catch more the corner of her mouth.

“Wanted this, wanted you for so long.” He tells her when they break apart. “Me too.” He grins at her and she finds herself grinning back. He presses a sweet, small kiss to her lips before looking at her slightly serious. “I meant what I said. Whatever you do want, I’m here, it’s your choice. This baby will still be mine if you want it.” Her teeth sink into her bottom lip as she thinks. “I don’t know.” She thinks to earlier in the bathroom when she was sure that she was going to have the baby despite it just being her. To now with her and Daniel having crossed the line finally and she’s unsure. She knows that despite it not being Daniel biologically she’d love just as much as if it was so, but it also sits wrong, heavy inside of her that it’s not his. She thinks to his joy of finding out and feels her heart sink a little, because what if he changed his mind after and it wasn’t okay, which is unfair to Daniel because he rarely if ever changes his mind. It’s then she realizes as she finally gives it some thought that she’s already made her decision.

“I want an abortion.” She tells him, watching his face closely but nothing changes. He doesn’t even blink. “Okay.” He nods and there’s a strange mixture of emotions in his chest, a little sorrow and a little glee, he pushes them both away. “I’m worried though.” His brows press together and he’s taking her hands in his, intertwining their fingers in an all too familiar gesture. “About what?” “This isn’t fair to you and I know it’s not true.” She prefaces, because she doesn’t want Daniel to think she doesn’t believe him or have faith in him. “I’m just worried that after it’s all said and done, you won’t be okay with it.” He breathes in through his nose. “Sometimes Kola, I’d like to kick your brain’s ass for making you think things like that.” The seriousness in voice makes her laugh and she squeezes his hand. “Me too.” “I won’t change my mind.” He promises her, before taking a deep breath, because if she could be honest with him about this, he could be honest about how he was feeling. “Truthfully, I’m a little sad about it.” She nods, there was a part of her that was too. Overwhelmingly however it felt wrong to her. “But also, and this might make me a bad person, I’m a little happy about it, that you don’t want a baby that’s not mine.” He gives a dark chuckle, taking one of his hands away from her to run it over his face. “God, that’s fucked. I’m fucked.” “No.” She shakes her head, grabbing his hand back. “No, Daniel. I want an abortion because it feels wrong, that it’s not yours. I know that I would love it no matter what, wouldn’t love it less than the rest of our kids.” They both share a smile at that. “But, I don’t think I could go seven months of this with that feeling.” “Okay.” He swallows a bit harshly. “Do you want me to go with you?” “Please?” “Of course.” He smiles, “Whatever you need.”

Six Months Later

“Daniel.” He groans at the sound of his name. “Daniel.” And this time there’s a shake to his shoulder. “No.” He groans again. “It’s sleep time, Kola.” He mumbles, trying to pat her but patting the bed. It’s silent for a moment and he can feel the sleep already trying to drag him under when suddenly there’s a thigh on either side of his hips and a weight on pelvis that has his eyes opening, blinking as they try to adjust to the darkness in the room. “Oh.” He mumbles, sleepily smiling at his wife and the slight pulse of lust that had stirred in his body from her straddling him turns to a small steady thrum as he remembers she’s his wife. “You want a midnight romp?” He wiggles his eyebrows. “Save a horse, ride a cowboy.”

His hands are already creeping under his shirt she had put on ready to pull it off when she shakes her head, something he can just barely see, and his hands go back to rest on her hips, thumbs rubbing at the warm skin, letting her take her time for whatever she needs from it at, he risks a glance at the clock and nearly groans as 3:19am shows.

“Daniel.” She finally says after a few minutes pass by. “Hmm.” He hums, eyes fighting to stay open. “I’m pregnant.” His eyes fly open, left hand jerking away from her hip to turn on his nightstand filling the room with some light. “What?” He asks, staring at her. She smiles down at him. “I’m pregnant.” “Fuck off.” She laughs, a few tears slipping down her face. “Uh huh. Afraid you're really stuck with me now.” “Really?” “Yeah, really.”

He’s surging up, hands moving quickly to cradle her face as he presses their lips together, tears of his own falling. “Thank you.” He mumbles, pulling away before pressing kisses all over her face, murmuring it over and over again.

“How far along are you?” He asks, a hand going down to her stomach, resting where a bump will eventually be. “Eleven weeks.” His eyes widened. “Eleven?” She nods, smiling. “You work fast, Mr. Ricciardo. Only a week after we started having sex and you knocked me up.” “Damn, I’m good.” She laughs, but nods. “Apparently so.” She cards a hand through his curls, pressing a kiss to his brow. “Thank you, Daniel.” “Of course, Mrs. Ricciardo. Whatever you need.”

---

Taglist: @ireadthensuetheauthors @cixrosie @gemofthenight @topguncultleader @peachiicherries @lpab @copper-boom

[sugoi-and-spice]

Chapter Twenty-Seven - Honeymoon

Summary: Tomura Shigaraki was her dad’s boss’s son. He was the creep that stole girls’ underwear and tried to grope her in his room. But it’s not like he could get her Dad fired just because she wouldn’t sleep with him, right? …right?

CW: Quirkless!AU, Explicit Smut, Dub-Con, Coercion, Blackmail, Cheating, Sexual Guilt, Humiliation, Unhealthy Relationships, Virginity Kink, Groping, Power Play, Hate to Love, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Animal Death, Slow Burn, Misogyny

Read Full Chapter on AO3

[excerpt]

The elevator in Shigaraki’s building was a fast one. Fast, but even. She could probably time down to the millisecond the pace that those floor numbers changed, they were so metronomic. The best that money could buy she was sure. Like clockwork, each floor number passed, ticking in her head more like a countdown. 

She was nervous about going to Shigaraki’s house today, if that wasn’t obvious. And truth be told, there were a lot of very legitimate reasons for her to be nervous about it. The fact that this was the first time she’d been at his place since their most recent night together. The fact that the company Christmas Party was just a few hours away and she really didn’t have enough time to be coming over here in the first place. The fact that going to his house always felt a bit like entering the lion’s den — she never knew just what was going to happen when she was there. 

Yes, these were all great reasons to be nervous, but to be honest, she wasn’t considering any of them. Her real reason was downright stupid in comparison. She was nervous because she was bringing Tomura Shigaraki a Christmas present.

And a stupid Christmas present at that.

It was a jacket. A stupid fucking jacket that she’d thought would be so great for him at the time. She assumed that he didn’t really own any nice jackets since all she’d ever seen him wear were hoodies. And she’d been so unable to get the image of him in red out of her head, that when she saw this stupidly expensive (but fantastic quality) red peacoat with the faux-fur collar at the department store, she knew she had to jump on it. 

But then two days shy of Christmas, he gave her a tour of Todai and just what had he been wearing? A fucking trench coat. Not the exact same thing, but pretty close enough.

She’d facetimed Spinner the second she got home in a panic over it.

“I think you’re in the clear. I’ve never seen anything like that in his closet.” he assured her.

“Ugh maybe there’s a reason for that though,” she agonized, “Like, maybe it’s not really his style after all…”

He shrugged, “I think it looks nice.”

“Really?” she pressed.

“Yeah, I’m sure he’ll like it.”

But she wasn’t going to take such blanket assurance lying down.

“I need you to be honest with me here, Spinner. If I’m making an idiot out of myself, I’d rather know now then on Christmas.”

Spinner sighed, looking through the camera at the jacket with more genuine scrutiny. She really wasn’t going to give up on this after all… 

“I don’t know, I think it looks fine. Maybe the fluffy part might be a bit much though?” Spinner finally relented.

“It’s removable!” she announced proudly, unclipping the first part to demonstrate this asset.

Spinner chuckled, “Well then you’re fine.”

“Are you sure? You don’t think red’s too gaudy for him?”

“He wears red shoes.”

“What about the material though? I know the really good peacoats are full wool, but I could only afford the blend. It’s still a good blend though, so it should be okay, right?”

Spinner didn’t say anything, immediately adding fuel to the flames of her worries. She turned the screen back to her so she could see that hesitant expression of his head on.

“What? What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing! Nothing’s wrong with it. It’s just,” he sighed and then offered her a sympathetic smile, “I think you’re thinking too much into this.”

“What? No way! This is the first thing I’ve ever gotten him,” she insisted, “It needs to be great!”

“Look, I just don’t want you to get your hopes up or anything.”

She cocked her head at him. He continued.

“Like, don’t think you’re setting a precedent here. Because he probably hasn’t gotten you anything,” he mumbled then, “Two of us have been friends for years, and he still only buys me shit when when he wants something.”

“Oh…”

Was that all his reservations were, for real? She almost laughed a little, relief finally settling throughout her.

“Well yeah. I assumed he wouldn’t.”

Spinner gave her a dumbfounded look, “Seriously?”

“Yeah. I know he doesn’t really think of stuff like that. I just wanted to get him something because… Well, I just wanted to. I saw this and thought he might like it,” self-consciousness started to flood her body once again, “...Do you think he’ll like it?”

Spinner smiled, happy she knew what she was getting into. Happy that Shigaraki had someone like her in his life now. Just happy for his friends.

“Yeah. I think he will.”

The elevator dinged, snapping her out of her thoughts. She made her way out of the elevator, down the hall to the single flat on this floor.

Continue on AO3

[steviewashere]

She Lives in My Dream State

Rating: General Pairings: Past Steve Harrington/Nancy Wheeler, Platonic Stancy, Pre-Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington & Eddie Munson CWs: Mild Recreational Marijuana Use (More Implied/Referenced) Tags: Post-Canon, Vague Timeline, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Comfort, Pining, Pre-Relationship, One-Sided Steve Harrington/Nancy Wheeler, Good Friend Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington Has a Vague Bisexual Awakening, Bisexual Steve Harrington (If you Squint), (He Hasn't Figured Out All His Feelings Yet for Eddie), Eventual Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Bittersweet, Hopeful Ending, Talking About Dreams This isn't my New Years fic, but I whipped this one out really fast tonight (because I'm pining over somebody I can't have, all that good stuff), so. I promise I've got a couple works that are coming out hopefully by the end of the week! I've just been very ill—woohoo!!! Title taken from Tyler, the Creator's "See You Again", the actual lyric is, "You live in my dream state."

🫂—————🫂 Steve and Nancy become close friends. Closer than most. Maybe not closer than he and Robin, but close enough. They're enough together. And Steve just has to take that.

He reasons that they'd be better friends or maybe even best friends had circumstances not have been. If Nancy was never his girlfriend and the Upside Down never happened and he was never bullshit. But. Well, you can only get so much out of people. And this is what he gets. An ex-girlfriend that still laughs at his jokes, but doesn't touch him the way it matters. An ex-girlfriend who's a friend, nothing more.

She moved to Boston, following her dreams like she always said she would. He believes in her, so he knew, of course, that she'd get to where she needed to be. Steve shouldn't miss her, not as much as he does, but he does. That's the problem. He'll get phone calls from her, excited and bright and short, she's got a column in the local newspaper, her dorm-mates are considerate, there's a library within walking distance. He's so fucking happy and proud.

But also...

"I think I'm still in love with her," he confesses one night. It's late, too late to be talking. There's a burning sweep of ash in his throat, a joint nearly roached between his fingers, and some movie playing in front of him. The television is quiet, buzzing and fizzing.

"Yeah?"

Oh. And Eddie's here, too. Replacing one friend for another. Not that Nancy did stuff like this, sitting around with him, smoking and shooting shit. No, she was more the kind of girl who enjoyed binging some rom-com from the discount bin at Family Video, sipping hot gos as Steve put it out into the world. She liked wine nights—it was the only stereotype she allowed herself to have.

He swallows around smoke. The joint begins to hurt, so he leans forward towards Eddie's coffee table, putting it out in an already full ashtray. They should really break this habit. Do something else. Find another thing to entertain them, but the weed loosens the works. Makes it easier to be himself without trying so damn hard. Not like it matters. Eddie figures him out anyway. Perceptive bastard.

His hands hang between his knees. Head heavy on his neck, pulled forward so his shoulders hunch. The screen flashes, and so his eyes dart to figure the picture. He's never been able to paint it clearly, doesn't understand the image, can't caption the words.

"I don't know," Steve murmurs, "it's just...she calls me, y'know, tells me everything going on in her life. And I know she's broken up from Jon, working on herself—whatever that means—but I...I hear her talk about these guys and girls she's bumping into on campus. Don't think she realizes, but she's on her way to falling in love with her lab partner."

"You saying you're jealous of a person you've never met?"

"I'm not the jealous type"—

"Sorry, Steve, it sorta sounds like you are."

Sighing, relenting, Steve rolls his eyes and leans back in his seat. Nods against the back of the couch, gaze adrift to the water stains on the ceiling. "Maybe I am, then. But I'm not gonna do anything about it, swear. She's happy now. Has her whole life ahead of her. Not the kind to settle down and have a brood of children, I get that, but I guess the dream still clouds my brain."

Eddie looks to him, he can feel his burning stare. He keeps his gaze astute on the ceiling. There's something in him that melts with Eddie's molten eyes—he'd let the change happen at a moment's notice. Not now, though. And definitely not yet. "You guys are on two different worlds," Eddie states softly, "she isn't yours to keep. And I'm sure she doesn't want to be kept, not now at least." He bumps his hand on Steve's thigh, the contact burns, but Steve doesn't shy from it. Instead, he lolls his head and looks over.

One day, his brain won't be set on Nancy.

Maybe it'll be somebody else.

"I don't how you're supposed to do it," Eddie continues, "but you have to move on, Steve. Be her friend, but don't let the thought of her eat away at you."

He swallows, a sour lump heavy in his throat. "I know," he mutters. His eyes are heavy, wet when he blinks them. But Eddie doesn't acknowledge that, doesn't make fun of him. It's nice. Steve sighs. "I just think I'm gonna love her forever and there's nothing I can do about it."

"I know, Steve," Eddie whispers, matching the tenderness, "but one day, things will be different. I swear, Stevie, they will."

"Yeah"—he nods once, quickly. Lets out another soft breath—"did you know that Nance and I met on her first day of freshman year?"

"Mm, no I didn't. Tell me about it?"

At least Eddie won't shut him down on this. Not like other people have.

"She had these big, square glasses on," Steve reminisces, "her hair tied up in this ponytail, stray hairs all around her face. We were at this club fair. I was looking into the student council and she was at the booth beside me, the business club's. And all I could think was, there's no way she's interested in that, must be her dad talking."—he snorts—"when I went over to ask her about it, she did one of those big, nasty sighs. All...jaded or whatever. She told me her dad was full of shit. Honestly thought she was gonna be some prissy, pretty mouthed girl who's well-mannered—that kind of garbage—but she wasn't. She was honest.

"I knew, right then and there, that I was gonna find a way to woo her. Maybe it was just...maybe I was being a bit too out there for a fifteen year old, but I honest to god thought she was the one for me. My soulmate. But then...well, y'know the story of us. Not meant to be." Steve sighs, wistful and forlorn. The image of fourteen year old Nancy Wheeler, her too big glasses and her smile full of braces, gone in an instant. He continues, "That dream I had where she was my wife, we had that whole crowd of kids, sometimes I think that was my dad talking. The ideal family mumbo-jumbo. But I think, if her and I were different people—if she wasn't afraid of becoming her mom and I wasn't afraid of becoming my dad—maybe that whole thing could'a worked out. But...Nancy's too brilliant for that. Too brilliant for nuclear bullshit. And I'm sorta...sorta behind, y'know. Late bloomer on what I want."

Eddie blinks at him. His wonderfully dark eyes pulling Steve back to himself. The hand has returned to sit against his thigh, heavy and warm and sure. Grounding. "What do you want, Steve?"

He blows out a sharp breath. "Loaded question," Steve says, "I want to get out of Hawkins, I know that much. Find somewhere to be. To be what, I'm not sure, but something more than just...just world's best babysitter who knows when to have a car at the right moment and also the inventory system for movies I've never fucking seen."

The smile that compliments that statement is only born from Eddie's warm laughter. He wants to nurture that smile, the way his cheeks stretch with it. It's the warmest thing he's felt in a long while.

"What about you, Eds, what do you want?"

"Honestly, I don't fucking know," Eddie answers in turn. "I wanted to be a world famous rockstar. But every time I put my fingers on the frets, I think about Metallica and world ending doom, so...guess that's sorta out of the cards. Oh, maybe I could write shit! I could...I could take the whole world ending bullshit and turn it into some sci-fi novel. Call it...The Underworld or something."

"The Underworld or Something sounds like a mouthful," Steve teases.

"Right...The Underworld. Title in progress. Hell, you know, maybe you could be my editor?"

"I'm not a strong enough reader for that, Eds." Eddie chuckles and nods, conceding. Steve just relishes in the tired sound of his laughter. "Got any other gigs you think I could do?"

"Book binding," Eddie says easily, "it's methodical. Takes some energy to focus on the craft, but you work a lot with your hands and tools. Something quiet, so you aren't dealing with angry moms and their crying children. But something just bland enough that you're not overexerting your efforts. Could put your brain on hobbies you wanted to work. Book binding and playing basketball in your free time sounds like the dream for you, Steve."

"Yeah? You've been thinking about this for a while? 'Cause, gotta give it to you, if that's improvised, you're a fucking genius."

"Ah, thank you, thank you...you flatter me, sweetheart. In another life, I take the world by storm with my on stage presence."

"Why not in this one?"

"Hollywood's too convoluted," Eddie says, "they'd probably do some evil shit like put me on an unethical diet and call it the beauty world's next hot tip or something. Or, y'know, they'd put me in a Speedo catalog. Don't think I could do that, ruins the integrity of my image."

Steve snorts again and swipes his tongue inside his lower lip. "Hm," he assesses, eyes squinted at Eddie's shorts-clad legs, "you've got good enough legs for it, though. Put you in some zebra print tighties and call it couture."

"Again, Steve, you flatter me." Eddie hits his thigh again, drawing his attention back. "Seriously, though," he says, voice dropped low, "one day you'll have things figured out enough. Maybe you'll still love her, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll be binding books or working a cash register. But, someday, you'll be the Steve Harrington you need yourself to be. Not today, and that's okay."

"Yeah," he sighs, "not today."

He thinks of Nancy, happy in Boston. Jonathan happy in Lenora. Robin in Seattle. All of them, sans Eddie and himself, separated and happy.

It's bittersweet, to love somebody he can't have. It always will be. He knows, despite himself, that he's going to love her until the day he dies. And she won't know that, and that has to be okay. They missed the chance—he missed the chance. Things are for the better, though.

He has a new friend in Eddie. He's got a load of feelings to stifle through. And he's got a lot to look forward to in the coming years of his very formative twenties. But for now, this is it: wallowing on Eddie's couch, tossing jokes at one another, smoke coating his throat.

It's not the best, but it could certainly be a lot worse. Things are reasonable and he's alive and some stuff is amiss, but things will work out.

Especially since he's got a new person on his side.

🫂—————🫂

[juana-the-iguana]

Sometimes I just think of fan interpretations of the cut-away between Zuko telling Katara that he knows where the man who killed her mother is and her packing things and getting ready to leave, and Aang and Katara having their last in-person interactions on screen (when they are lone together in EIP and when they are in a group in the finale) be fights to them kissing at the end.

People who support Kat-aang and do not like Zutara (and specifically comment in the Zutara tag about this) often say that Zuko had to convince Katara to go after her mother's killer. A lot of those people also assume that Aang must have apologized to Katara off-screen for the EIP kiss.

I have had a lot of people who share these interpretations accuse me and other people of not having "media literacy" because we can't clearly understand he must have apologized off screen. The irony is that is the exact opposite of the truth.

The cut away between Zuko telling Katara he knew how to find her mother's killer and her getting ready to leave signifies swiftness. Her response to this knowledge is so clear that showing her reaction would actually take away from conveying it. Things are moving fast, her mind was made up right away and she kept moving so the scene did too. And because she is moving so quickly, the audience can fill in the fact that any conversation she may have had with Zuko about this (How do you know this? When did you find out? etc.) did not play a role in her decision to find her mother's killer.

We know from both her past actions (being haunted by her mother's death, her righteous fury) and her future ones (trying to take Appa without talking to Aang or anyone else, telling Sokka that he didn't love their mother like she did, bloodbending) there is nothing Zuko could have said in a period of time that would have been a few hours, tops, that could have made her that angry or driven if those emotions were not already there. Zuko telling Katara he knows where her mother is isn't actually the completion of that narrative moment: her affirming that she needs to confront said killer when her actions are questions is. (I should note that part of the cut away could have been to leave room for a commercial break - I can't remember if that was the case when this aired on television - which would break up the viewing, but does not take away from the fact that Katara's shown response to this knowledge is to leave as quickly as possible).

Now compare that with the EIP kiss. We see the full moment play out, from Aang meeting Katara on the balcony to pressuring her to commit to him to kissing her when her eyes are close to her getting upset to her running away to him reflecting on what happened... Set up, action, response, reflection. This is an emotional scene, Katara is clearly distressed and this is one of the few times we actually see her mad at Aang. Their kiss at the end is another emotional moment, as it marks the culmination of Aang's journey as an Avatar. There needs to be a bridge between these intense scenes for them to make sense. Kat-aangers will argue that the EIP kiss is A and the ending kiss is C, so B must be the implied apology. But if A and C both matter a lot, and there needs to be a connection between the two things, then B should matter a lot too. C is the last scene in the show! This bridge should be shown, or at the very least referenced!

Unlike the TSR scenes, there is so much time between EIP and the finale that there is no clear flow between these moments. To the contrary, there are moments that break up this romantic sub-subplot, from them playing at the beach together again to them fighting again over how to deal with the Fire Lord and Aang running away (something worth noting is that Katara is the last person who is talking when he runs away - he literally left her - and she lets him go after a light touch on the shoulder from Zuko). Fight, friends, fight, love.

Since that B scene, the thing that bridges together Katara and Aang's relationship, is not there, then it either isn't important or did not happen.

Now let's get into media literacy. Media literacy isn't filling in gaps to make things make sense. Media literacy is understanding the messages that a piece of media is sending, intentionally or unintentionally. Even, in theory, if Zuko did have some conversation with Katara convincing her to seek out Yon Ra, it isn't shown and it isn't alluded to, so it doesn't matter. What we are supposed to take away from that episode is that Katara was ready to hunt down Yon Ra, she needed closure and got it, and that Zuko helped her. The same can be said for an apology after EIP. It doesn't matter if one happened off-screen, if it wasn't shown or referenced to, so it isn't important to the narrative. And if Aang making amends for hurting Katara isn't important to the narrative, but her kissing him after he fulfills his duty as the Avatar is, that is a huge statement about their relationship. Katara only rejected Aang because he wasn't an Avatar yet, so the only thing that matters in their relationship is him being the Avatar.

But the thing about media literacy is it isn't just about what is shown on the screen itself. It is about the bigger picture, what this is trying to convey as a message to the viewers.

So what does the gap in time in TSR tell us? Katara is this caring, nurturing friend who, in her brother's words, doesn't hate anyone except the people who took her mother. If she doesn't hate anyone except for the people who took her mother away from her, and she was immediately able to act on that hate when she got the chance to seek closure, then that hurt must have been closer to the surface than anyone thought. She acted fine, but her trauma was still there.

So what does this mean? She was able to address the anger conveyed in the scene in the episode and by the end of it, even though she was still conflicted about Yon Ra, she made peace with Zuko. Zuko whose mere presence caused her distress for weeks, not only because of his betrayal, but because he reminded her of her mother's death. Zuko who became her good friend and saved her life later on. Confronting her demons not only brought her peace, it improved her life tremendously.

So what is the "media literate" message from the lack of apology? The absence conveys is that the most important thing needed for Katara to like Aang was for him to fulfill his role as the Avatar, because that is the only thing that changed in between those two scenes. He didn't treat her any differently, he didn't apologize for hurting her, in fact its vague that he even acknowledged that what he did was wrong because it hurt her (the "I'm so stupid!" could easily mean he blew his chance, not that he cared). And Katara never went through the process of forgiving him or making peace with him wronging her. She never even acknowledged that he underwent a significant change as a person in the last episode either (Aang, who ran away from his duties at the start of the series, faces them head on in the last episode. YMMV on how good that was developed) - if it's not shown, it doesn't matter.

So what does this mean? It doesn't matter when Katara is hurt, conflict resolution doesn't matter, and apparently Aang's personality doesn't matter either. Their interpersonal relationship and emotional connection mean very little. Men do great things and women love them for it, how they act or are treated does not matter.

And before anyone comments "they're kids, it's not a big deal," this is a direct response to accusations about media literacy which, by definition, is a big deal - it's about the messages being made to viewers and its commentary on how society works and how things should be.

[superlarva]

"You've got a mustache."

Hey guys! Sorry, my art style is like the least consistent thing on this planet... I just like trying new things out :)

Anyways, continuing on our Rex parenting journey we have Chapter 4 - Pancakes and Apologies.

Prologue: 00 Previous chapter: 03 Next chapter: 05

Summary: Rex gets some news on Echo, pancakes are made, tantrums are thrown.

CW: Implied/referenced child abuse, talk about injuries from landmines (nothing too in depth)

Chapter 4 – Pancakes and Apologies

Rex sunk down into his couch with a sigh, leaning his head against the armrest. Fives had been tucked in and the hallway light was left on. One kid taken care of, one to go.

Rex pulled out his phone and opened a text from Cody: I have some more info. Call me when you’re ready.

The phone only rang once before it was picked up.

“Cody, is he okay?” Rex tried to keep his voice down so he would not wake the boy sleeping in the next room.

“He’s…” Cody trailed off and Rex could feel his heart pounding in his chest.

“What? He’s what?” Don’t say dead. Please, don’t say dead.

“He just got out of surgery. They had to amputate both legs and an arm,” Cody was trying to keep if voice calm and leveled, but the words came out a little choked. “I’m so sorry.”

Rex stared across the living room and into the kitchen, he’d know the boy’s injuries would be bad if he had landed himself in the ICU, but the loss of three limbs? That was too much.

Cody continued, “Echo’s okay for now. He hasn’t woken up yet, so there could still be some complications, but they are optimistic about how the surgery went.”

“Both legs and an arm?” Rex asked, still processing his brother’s statement.

“Yes,” Rex heard Cody take a deep breath on the other side of the line, “He stepped on a landmine.”

“Wh- How?”

“I don’t know. No one told the hospital how it happened either.”

Rex was silent, but his mind screamed.

Screamed in anger.

In sadness.

In pain.

In guilt.

It was his fault. His.

“Rex? You still there?” Cody’s voice cut through the phone.

“Yeah,” Rex said a little absently. “Yeah, I’m still here.”

“Alright,” Cody said, tone laced with worry. “You should get some rest. I’ll text you any developments, but don’t stay up for them.”

“Thank you.”

“Are you going to be able to sleep tonight?”

“I- I’m not sure.”

“Try, okay?”

“I will.”

“I love you, Rex’ika.”

“Love you too, Codes,” Rex dropped the phone from his ear as he disconnected the call.

He rolled onto his side and curled up on the couch, pulling his knees up to his chest and letting the world melt around him as tears spilled down his cheeks.

Rex woke, panicked from a dream he couldn’t remember and drenched in a cold sweat. From what he could tell it was early morning, the living room was washed in a dim warm light. He was not sure when he had fallen asleep, but he could not have gotten more than four hours.

He reached for his phone on the coffee table and found it, bringing the screen close to his bleary eyes. He had some texts from Cody from around 3 am:

Just found out Kix is Echo’s doctor!

He came into the waiting room to tell me that Echo seems to be responding well to the surgeries.

He’s sleeping now, but he woke up for a bit while I was in there and asked for Fives.

Kix said he thinks you guys should be able to visit today.

Rex felt a surge of relief, Echo was going to be okay. He was going to be alright. Not only that, but Rex had known Kix since he’d been in a group home with him and he knew the boy was in capable hands.

Rex swung his legs over the edge of the bed, sitting up to type out a reply, thanking his brother profusely.

“M-mister police officer, sir?”

A small voice cut through Rex’s thoughts, and he jerked his head up. Fives stood stiffly on the other side of the coffee table. Rex was taken aback, when had the boy slipped into the room? At least the kid looked like he had slept well, “Yes? And Rex is fine.”

“Would you like me to make you breakfast?”

Rex was initially going to deny the request and insist that he make breakfast for Fives instead, but realized he could not assume Fives was only offering because it was something required of him previously. Perhaps the boy really enjoyed cooking. Rex wouldn’t know so instead he put down his phone and smiled, “Why don’t we make ourselves some breakfast together?”

Fives’s eyes widened a bit before he nodded consent.

Rex stood and stretched, “What should we have? I’ve got eggs, pancakes, oatmeal, cereal, or bread for toast.”

Fives seemed to debate something before looking up at Rex, “What are pancakes?”

“Pancakes?” Rex parroted, a little shocked.

Fives blushed and turned away, muttering a quiet apology.

“No, it’s okay, it’s good to ask questions,” Rex tried to amend quickly. He hurried over to his pantry and grabbed his box of pancake mix, showing the box to the boy, “This is what they look like. They’re really good and you get to put maple syrup on them.”

Fives whipped his head around to Rex at the mention of maple syrup, an excited grin plastered onto his face, “Maple syrup is from Canada.”

“Uh, yeah?” Rex said taken aback by the random fact.

Fives turned back to the pancake box, “Echo had a book about flags. Canada’s is a maple leaf because of all the maple trees there and maple syrup comes from the maple trees.”

“Do you and Echo like to read a lot?” Rex asked.

“Echo does,” Fives said, shoulder’s tensing. “He tried to teach me, but I’m no good.”

Rex didn’t like the boy’s defeated tone, “You know, I didn’t learn how to read until I was a little older than you.”

“Really?” Fives asked. “Because Echo learned when we were little.”

Rex wondered what “little” meant to the boy because in his eyes the twins were still very much just little boys. “Different people learn different things at different times, it’s not a contest.” Rex shrugged, taking the pancake mix from Fives, “Do pancakes sound yummy? They’re one of my favorites.”

Fives nodded, then shrugged, “But I don’t know how to make them.”

“That’s okay,” Rex said grinning. “I can teach you.”

Fives had been a surprisingly competent chef for a seven-year-old boy. He knew how to measure ingredients and pour things without spilling, and, once Rex had helped him up onto the counter, had proved that he could work a stovetop. Rex made sure the boy was aware he was not to be climbing on things or using the stove without permission first.

Rex watched as Fives took his first bite of pancake. The boy chewed slowly and then grinned up at Rex.

“Good?” Rex asked, taking his first bite as well.

Fives nodded enthusiastically and began shoving the rest of the plate into his mouth as fast as he could. He was finished before Rex had swallowed his third bite.

Rex pushed the glass of milk he’d poured the boy closer to him, “milk first, and then you can have more.”

Fives eyed the glass suspiciously before carefully taking it in both hands and downing it, seemingly without stopping for breath. When he put the glass down, he had a little milk mustache. Rex couldn’t stop himself from laughing.

“What?” Fives asked, looking down at his plate, searching for whatever was so funny.

“You-” Rex broke out into another chuckle, “You’ve got a mustache.”

“No, I don’t,” Fives said, folding his arms.

“Yes, you do. Go look in the mirror.”

Fives gave Rex a confused look before heading off to the bathroom.

Rex shook his head and finished up his breakfast, smiling to himself.

Fives emerged from the bathroom a minute later with a clean, smiling face.

“It was from the milk,” the boy explained, as if Rex didn’t already know.

Rex nodded as Fives joined him in the kitchen, “Do you want some more pancakes?”

Fives shook his head as he sat back down in his chair, then he looked up a Rex, “Could we bring them for Echo?”

Rex shook his head, giving himself a few seconds to figure out the best way to explain to Fives, “Right now Echo’s in the ICU. Do you know what the ICU is?”

“Like the hospital?”

“Yeah, it’s a part of the hospital where they put the people who need a little extra help to get better. It stands for intensive care unit.”

“Is he going to die?” Fives had clearly picked up on the fact that someone already in the hospital needing extra help was bad. His voice was so small.

“We think he got through the worst part. He woke up last night and asked for you, which is a really good sign, but we can’t bring him anything from outside the hospital because he had to have some really big surgeries and we don’t want him to get infected.”

“Oh,” Fives’s eyes darted back and forth before they made their way back to Rex’s. “Can- can we still-? Are we allowed to see him?”

Rex nodded, “We can head on over after we get dressed and brush our teeth.”

Fives jumped up out of his chair in excitement and made a beeline for Rex’s bedroom. Rex marveled in the boy’s ability to switch his emotions so quickly, and his inability to hide any of them.

As Fives got dressed, Rex washed all the dishes as quickly as he could so he wouldn’t have to keep the boy waiting for long. Not surprisingly, Fives finished getting ready before Rex put the last dish on the drying rack. The boy bounded into the kitchen, bouncing on his toes and grinning.

Rex couldn’t help but match his grin, “Alright, get your shoes and coat on while I get dressed.”

Fives nodded and hopped over to the entry way where his tiny set of shoes sat next to Rex’s boots.

Rex threw on his clothes and swished some mouthwash around in his mouth (brushing took too long) before joining Fives in the entry way. The boy was practically exploding with energy and Rex had to tell him multiple times that his shoes were on the wrong feet before he stopped jumping up and down and sat so Rex could fix them.

As soon as they got onto the road Fives asked how long it would take to get to Echo, and not wanting the entire 45 minute car ride to consist of 45 “are we there yet?”s, Rex made Fives his navigator. He knew the way to Kamino General well enough that he would tell Fives to remind him to turn right when they got to the next intersection or get off the highway when he saw a green sign with the number 79 on it. It kept the boy surprisingly occupied as he seemed to take his role very seriously.

As they neared the hospital and sat waiting in city traffic, Rex glanced at Fives in the mirror, “Fives, there’s something I need to tell you about Echo before we see him.”

Fives twisted forward to look at Rex from his position analyzing the city outside his window.

“He got really hurt and he- his-” Rex started to explain, struggling to find the right words.

“His legs were gone,” Fives interrupted, eyes wide.

Rex stared at the boy in his mirror, “You saw?”

Fives nodded, “Yes.”

“I’m sorry,” Rex didn’t know what else to say.

Fives shrugged, “Green light.”

“Huh?” Rex gaped before he realized what Fives was referring to as the car behind him honked, “Shi-oot!”

Rex slammed on the gas and turned into the hospital’s visitor parking lot, “Sorry about that.”

“S’okay,” Fives mumbled. Then his head shot up with excitement, “Are we here?”

“Yep,” Rex said, pulling into a spot.

Before Rex came to a complete stop, Fives unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the car door, ready to leap out. Rex stomped on the breaks and lunged back to grab the boy’s wrist, lest he fall out of the car, “Fives!”

The boy yelped as Rex dragged him back away from the door.

“No!” Rex yanked the boy towards his face, “No. You do not get out of the car until it’s stopped moving! Do you understand?”

“I’m s-sorry,” Fives stared at Rex, face going pale.

“Do you understand?”

Fives tried to yank his arm away, but Rex had him in an iron grip.

“Do. You. Understand?”

Fives’s tiny fist came up from where it was clenched at his side and struck Rex on the cheek. Rex was so surprised he almost let go of the boy as Fives began screaming “sorry” repeatedly, flailed his captive wrist around, trying to bash Rex’s hand down into the console, and used his free hand to hit Rex’s arm with as much force as he was capable of.

Rex caught Fives’s other arm to prevent any further damage to either of them and held him still while he struggled. Even though Fives’s eyes were screwed shut, Rex tried to soften his expression from the angry one he was sure it held a few moments earlier to one as neutral as possible.

Eventually Fives’s struggles grew weaker, and his apologies died down to a faint whisper. Rex realized the boy was crying, tears leaking out the corners of his shut lids.

“Fives?” Rex said softly, loosening his grip on the boy so if he wanted to remove his arms he could.

Fives opened his eyes and tears gushed down his cheeks, “’m ssssorry.”

“It’s okay. I’m not mad, see?” Rex held up his hands.

Fives stared up at Rex with big watery eyes before slowly reaching out one of his own hands and placing it against Rex’s opposing palm.

Rex curled down his fingers so his hand enveloped Fives’s, “Are you okay?”

In response Fives pulled his and Rex’s hand towards his chest.

“Hug?” Rex asked, remembering last night.

“Please?”

“Alright, come here,” Rex said, hoisting the boy up over the console and into his lap.

Fives held Rex’s hand to his chest as Rex held him to his and they sat just breathing in silence together until Fives shifted to look up at Rex, “Are- are you very mad at me?”

Rex squeezed Fives a little tighter and smiled sadly, “I’m not very mad at you.”

They sat together for a few more moments and this time it was Rex who broke the silence, “Can I explain why I got upset?”

Rex felt Fives nod against his chest.

“Cars can be very dangerous if we aren’t careful in them or around them,” He felt Fives nod in understanding and continued, “One of the rules when you’re in the car is that you always keep your seatbelt on and you never open the door unless we are parked in a driveway or in a parking lot, does that make sense?”

Again, Rex felt Fives nod against him.

He continued, “When you opened the door, I was scared that you might get hurt, so I got upset. But I was more upset that you might get hurt than I was upset at you.” Rex rubbed Fives’s arm, “I’m sorry for yelling at you and for grabbing you.”

“I’m sorry, too. For- for breaking the rules.”

“It’s alright. You were excited, I get it. But next time we don’t jump out of moving cars.”

Fives nodded, sniffling.

Rex grabbed a tissue and handed it to the boy, “Ready to go see Echo?”

Fives smiled, blowing into the tissue, “Ready.”

@marierg @stressed-cherry @ffdemon @renton6echo @bambambunny @tearfulsolace @rndmpeep @brokenphoenix99 @xylionet @tazmbc1

[risingchaos]

CONTINGENCY PLAN

-

Fandom: Batman - All Media Types, Justice League - All Media Types

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: Gen

Rating: Teen and Up

Relationship: Dick Grayson & Justice League

Characters: Dick Grayson, Clark Kent, Diana (Wonder Woman), Oliver Queen, Dinah Lance, Barry Allen, J’onn J’onzz (mentioned), Arthur Curry (mentioned)

Additional Tags: Dick Grayson is Batman, Bruce Wayne is not Batman, he’s dead, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Oliver Queen is So Done, Humor, No beta we die like Jason, Not angst or fluff but a secret third thing

Language: English

Words: 1,793

Chapters: 1/1

Summary: After Batman’s death, the League is at a loss on how to proceed. Fortunately, Batman had a plan for that. Unfortunately, he’s bad at letting his co-workers in on his plans.

-

Batman had contingency plans upon contingency plans upon contingency plans. He had safety nets and backups and hidden files. He had a thing in place for every possible scenario that could, would, might, or won’t happen, and he was prepared.

So when they finally found the folder ‘In Case of Death’, they were morbidly relieved.

They were less relieved however, when the only thing in the file was a document saying that a plan would have already gone in motion, and to just trust his plans.

The next twelve days following Batman’s death were some of the hardest in the League. Everyone had handled death before, the team had handled death before, but not this kind. Not this level of loss. One of their founding members, one of their most determined and gritty members, gone overnight. He was the major planner, the one with the ideas and the gadgets and the backups. The brain and reason when no one else was, and he was always willing to take the hit if it meant getting the job done.

He was a friend. He was Bruce, to the most trusted members. He had a rare smile he’d share and a deep laugh you could celebrate if you got it out of him. He was protective and almost motherly, always making sure everyone was okay. Almost always. He helped out and cared and teased. He was loved, and he loved them all back.

It hurt. It hurt everyone.

And most of them didn’t even know his name.

On the thirteenth day after Batman’s death, Oliver came into the building fuming. No mask, no uniform, in a smart suit like he had just come from work. He pushed past Barry and J’onn who tried to stop him and ask questions, and marched right up to the computer. At that point, other members in the common room had directed their attention to it, and were horrified as he opened an email from himself and drew up blurry images and half corrupted videos of Batman. Fighting. In Gotham. Yesterday. The man they had all watched die, breathing and fighting like nothing had happened. Whatever was under the cowl fought like Batman, moved like Batman, had the same gadgets and suit as Batman. On one of the videos, there was a small clip of audio, and it even sounded like Batman.

“It showed up two days ago. I just got news of it while looking through some cameras in the area. I shouldn’t have been able to, Batman always protected the cameras. We couldn’t access them if we tried, and we have tried. Whatever it is, we need to find it.”

Oliver turned, jaw clenched and fists by his sides, to the rest of the JLA.

Clark was pale, staring at the screen. He was listening, trying to find the familiar heartbeat again. Just in case. He didn’t find it.

Diana glanced around at her friends, worried for them specifically.

Dinah’s eyes were set, hard and mad as she watched Oliver. They needed to fix it.

Arthur, contrary to everyone else, just looked defeated. His arms crossed, shoulders sagged, tire written across his face.

Barry shifted back and forth on his feet. He wanted to speed off, to find this guy, to either beat the shit out of him or bring him back for the others to beat the shit out of.

J’onn’s face was set in a line, cool and collected. Only the slight furrow of his brow gave away his feelings.

“We have to go to Gotham.” Clark spoke up, glancing around at his friends. “If he’s the plan Batman talked about, he should know about us. If he’s not, we need to stop him. Can you still access cameras?”

He shook his head, working his jaw a little before speaking. “No. After I pulled these, I tried to find more but it locked me out. Whatever this is wanted me to see, and probably wanted me to show you.”

The group all exchanged looks, glancing between each other. Diana spoke next.

“Let’s go to Gotham.”

______

Barry arrived first. He was supposed to be a lookout, a warning, but when he arrived at the regular place Batman used to meet the League, whoever was parading around as Batman was already waiting. In person he could see the differences between Batman and this imposter. The man in front of him was tanner in complexion, a different chin. Different scowl. He wasn’t as tanky as Bruce had been, more on the leaner side. The armor added bulk the man didn’t have, but it fit like it was made for him. However, to someone who didn’t spend at least one day a week with him for years, who didn’t watch Batman die, this man could pass off as Batman without a problem.

They both stared at each other, Barry’s angry blue eyes staring into the emotionless white covering on the cowl. Before Barry could even open his mouth to comment, to yell or taunt or anything, the imposter raised his hand in faux placating and spoke in a near perfect imitation of Batman’s gruff voice. “Wait for the others. I’ll explain then.”

Within a few minutes of tense silence, before Barry lost it and just started asking questions, the rest of the League arrived. Clark’s eyes widened once he saw the imposter, picking up the heartbeat inside. He was too distracted and lightly horrified by the realization to pick up on his friend’s movement. On Oliver’s movement.

The archer ran up to the imposter the moment he saw him, but no one really knew what his plan was. Or got to see. He was on the ground with a fluid movement from the imposter within seconds. Oliver went from in front of “Batman”, moving at near inhuman speeds, to thrown on to the grimy Gotham floor. “Batman” was on him in an instant, pinning him to the asphalt. One hand and a knee restricted Oliver’s arms, the other hand steading them on the ground and using the weight of his other leg and body to keep the rest of Oliver in line.

“Calm do-“

“Who are you?? What are you?? What did you-“

“Take a br-“

“You fucking-“

“Arrow-“

“Coward!”

“Oliver!”

The imposter hissed the archer’s name, low enough that only the man below him and those with superhearing could understand. It stilled the man in green and drew a collective breath from those who heard, Oliver’s chest heaving and eyes wide behind his domino mask. Shit.

“If I let you go, will you attack me again, or will you let me explain before trying to kill me again?” The gruff tone was back. When Oliver didn’t respond instantly, the imposter tightened his hold and pressed his knee a little harder into Oliver’s arm. That got a gasped ‘fine’ and “Batman” got off of him.

He turned to everyone else, giving a sweeping glare (they somehow knew) as Oliver got up and grumbled to himself about ‘damn bats’.

“Zeta back to the Hall. I’ll meet you there and explain.” He paused, deciding on if to give any kind of explanation. “Too many ears.” He gestured around vaguely before doing the incredibly bat-like thing of zipping away and disappearing before anyone could ask a question.

______

As expected, “Batman” was already waiting for them when they got back. He stood by the computer, tapping away. He was pulling up some kind of files from a flash drive, not even glancing over when the Zeta announced them. Instead, he got right into it.

“I’m the contingency plan Batman mentioned in his ‘In Case of Death’ folder. Of course he didn’t specify what, because why would he..” The man trailed off, sighing as he turned to the rest of the League. The gruff imitation was gone, replaced by an upbeat Gothamite accent and a lighter tone. “When we got the news he had- died, we gave ourselves some time to grieve before I put on the suit. It’s not easy losing a family member, as I’m sure you’ve all felt the last week and a half. Almost two weeks.”

He finally turned to face everyone, checking all their faces before continuing on. He took a small breather, reached up, and pulled down the cowl. The domino underneath remained firmly planted on his face, but the few who knew him drew in a sharp breath.

“I’m Nightwing. Batman’s.. Son. I was the first Robin, if any of you remember me like that.”

He gave a tentative smile and little jazz hands, as if to say ‘surprise’.

“Jesus Christ.”

Oliver shook his head, dragging a hand through his hair.

“Nightwing? Really? I got my ass pinned by you?”

Dick just gave a wide smile back, very pleased with himself. “I learned it from Batman. And Arsenal. Both liked making sure I could pin someone bigger than me. The armor helped, adds weight.” He shrugged his shoulders to show. “A lot bulkier than I’m used to, but this was the plan. In Case of Death. When his vitals went down, A alerted me. The next confirmation came from you guys opening the folder.” He pointed a thumb back at the screen. “I can show you guys proof this really was the plan, or you can just believe me. I’m not here to take Batman’s spot. I’ve denied being in the League before, I’ve got too much on my plate with Blüdhaven, my day job, my personal life, and now Gotham and Batman and all the shit with my family. I’m dealing with the loss of him in our lives, but we can’t let Gotham underground know Batman’s-, dead.”

Dick’s facade didn’t drop, not truly, but the smile dimmed a little. It would seem natural to anyone else, just the way a smile ran its course, if not for the fact that this group was trained to find things like that.

“I’m doing rounds as Batman back in Gotham. Give me a call if you guys have a League thing, need Batman there. Promise I can be useful.” He patted the console twice, reached back to pull on the cowl, and hesitated. His smile fixed itself, more cheeky this time.

“I am one hell of a tactician. My dad says so.”

He fixed the cowl back on, dropping the smile properly once he did. It was a little unnerving, how fast the switch happened.

The League watched as Batman, Nightwing, exited the room and soon enough they heard the Zeta whir to life. Nobody spoke for a minute, just letting the information sink in.

Barry spoke first.

“Nightwing, huh?”

He turned, looking at the door they had just watched the man leave through.

“I’ve heard good things.”

[nipotazzi]

Symphony in Fortissimo Agitando - Chapter 4

The screen went black. Nothing happened for a few seconds, until a series of statics from her speakers started building up, and a wide array of complex isonometries appeared. It looked like something straight out of one of those old CGI movies... but what mattered most is that it vaguely looked like a face, a small, octopus-like face. 

“...etor?”

Marina gasped, and stood still. 

“--etor? cre…ator? ca… hear… me?”

At this point she didn’t care about how mad Pearlie would have been if she had found her now, all that mattered to Marina right now was that…

“I-I hear you… I hear you…! I hear you!!”

The figure didn’t get any clearer, or better for that matter, but she saw him. She finally saw her child from the other side of the screen, and started tearing up.

“Creator… alive…”

She touched the screen with her whole palm, the only way she had to physically interact with him. They had so much to talk about... so much…

“...mother?”

And from then on, things could only have gotten better… and worse.

Fandom: Splatoon

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Marina/Pearl (Splatoon), Agent 3/Agent 8 (Splatoon)

Characters: Pearl (Splatoon), Marina (Splatoon), Dedf1sh | Acht (Splatoon), Agent 8 (Splatoon), Order | Smollusk (Splatoon), Parallel Canon (Splatoon) - Character, The Heavenly Melody (Splatoon)

Additional Tags: Splatoon 3: Side Order, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, References to Canon, Angst with a Happy Ending, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, I think that they had it too nice in canon, Nightmare Fuel, Female Agent 8 (Splatoon), Traumatized Agent 8 (Splatoon), Marina and Pearl Adopt Agent 8 (Splatoon), Smollusk has been adopted, Suicidal Thoughts, failed, Implied/Referenced Suicide attempts by immortal character, Slow To Update, But won't give up on it for sure, So Please Be Patient, Existential Angst

Summary:

Marina Ida doesn't remember anything about her time as The Agitando. Quietly giving a look at the recorded logs of her simulation might finally explain this lapse in her memory… and possibly answer why everyone in the memverse insists so sternly on calling her a goddess.

Forgot to upload this one lol As always, comments, reblogs, and feedback are always appreciated. Have a good day!

[irldiancie]

All Kagehina “proof” I know of

Ok i wasnt gonna post this but ive been told by a friend to explain why some might ship Kagehina so... try me. i dont exactly ship this myself but lets just say im a pro when it comes to this topic also it's not as bad as i thought it was there are worse ships idk why i was a hater also i lowkey got some of this from shipping wiki but most of it i knew already, plus NOT ALL OF THIS IS NECESSARILY REFERENCES TO THE SHIP it kinda just adds on to it anyways lets just get into it

ok so starting with common knowledge i think everyone knows that Hinata is the protagonist followed with Kageyama being the deuteragonist, they get the most screen time together and are pretty much paired MOST of the series, we get a lot of content with them together while also getting content of them on their own, they're known as the "freak duo," the "greatest teammates" and like 100 other names they've been called I've seen a lot of people intemperate their relationship wrong, I've seen a few say Kageyama was downright "abusive" to Hinata which I think is a little farfetched, but to each their own! They genuinely do care for each other and it shows, even at the end of the manga you can tell how far their relationship has come, even if they consider themselves rivals, they are without a doubt still friends Now a lot of people have said "well they're not gay they're just friends", while this is true, it has been referenced/implied officially in many places, including manga panels and english dubs, so while it isn't canon there is a few cute things about it which we know are official which is why I'm sharing this, I myself know it isn't canon, plus I didn't really make this to prove anything it was kinda for fun sorry if that made little to no sense but I'll start getting into more interesting stuff 1. at the tip of the iceberg we have the fact they're in so much official art together

theres like a 1000 more of these btw theyre often put near eachother even in official arts not based off them

I have like 1k more of these but i have more proof than this but i think you get my point some of this is probably promo art but that's also considered official art so 2. moving on i think another known one is that Ukai calls them lovebirds ONE TIME in English dub and I have no idea who approved that but I think it's funny and obviously this probably meant nothing but take it as you want video of it here 3. this is kinda randomly thrown in but the fact that they also trust eachother, they've mentioned it a couple times but I think it's nice to know 4. i dont remember when this was or what chapter or something but kageyamas grandfather said "somebody even better will come for you", which just happened to be Hinata of course 5. ALSO after that whole fight scene back in season two, Hinata says this

he didnt really consider kageyama as a friend, but he considered him a partner which i believe is more important to hinata. teammates/partners were always something Hinata wanted, as before he went to Karasuno, he didn't feel like his friends in Junior high were necessarily teammates. Meaning he valued Kageyama more because he was his partner.

(credits to triananero for these images) and when him and Kageyama started working together, they most definitely were perfect together, as they balanced each-other out, which made them become an unstoppable duo or whatever they called them 6. the fact that they have matching jersey numbers 9 and 10 moving on to less canon stuff, there is a light novel of Haikyuu called Haikyū!! Shōsetsuban!! which probably isnt close to canon but Furudate was a part of it even though it wasn't written by him, so it's at least somewhat official 7. anyway according to shipping wiki there is a chapter where Kageyama feels "fluttery feelings at the bottom of his stomach" when Hinata texts him, it's on volume 8 chapter 1, I REALLY WANTED TO SHOW YOU GUYS BUT I COULDNT FIND IT ANYWHERE ONLINE. i searched countless tumblr posts and websites but i could only find chapter five and chapter three so im fully convinced this is lost media LMAOOOO 8. also in Haikyū!! Shōsetsuban!! apparently there's a part where Hinata daydreams about him and Kageyama eating under cherry blossom trees i just found that cute AS MUCH AS I WANNA SHOW YOU GUYS I LITERALLY CANNOT FIND ANYTHING OF THIS LIGHT NOVEL ANYWHERE i just know it's real, if I ever get my hands on it which I doubt, I'll share proof it exists btw AND THIS IS REALLY RANDOM AND SOMEONE WANTED ME TO INCLUDE THIS BUT 9. Basically there was a ad for deodorant a couple years back, collabing with Haikyuu, where you could buy deodorants to “smell like them” or whatever, some shippers believe it’s a Kagehina reference as they also advertised Kageyama and Hinatas scents together as some like matching couple thing

and then there's this

And I think I've said enough, there's way more you can find out about this ship, but I hope with this post you've learned something new or whatever... I MIGHT MAKE THIS A SERIES should i do kenhina next or kuroken ANYWAYS DISCLAIMER I didnt look too much into most of these things but I can gaurentee this stuff is true also this was just for fun and not serious but i hope you liked my little post!

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Heyya, I've checked out your tier list about the twst characters and couldn't help but curious when I saw you have a solid dislike in Yuu.

I don't know if you ever mentioned about it before. But if you don't, I was curious and would like to know your answer about this (not by force obviously).

[Referencing this post!]

Before I share my thoughts, I want to make it clear that I am NOT talking about anyone's Yuusonas here. Yuusonas =/= game!Yuu. When I speak about Yuu in this post, I am only talking about the generic, standard in-game Yuu and NOT anyone's individual Yuu.

I dislike game!Yuu because they’re designed to be a blank slate/self-insert character. As someone who doesn’t like to project onto a player surrogate character, I get no value out of them. I would much rather follow a main character with a more defined personality, skills, etc. You’ll notice that the Yuus that feature in both the manga and light novel variants of Twst all place higher than game!Yuu does for this very reason. I also make the distinction between game!Yuu and Yuusonas because I know of many friends and content creators whose interpretations of Yuu I enjoy and find really interesting.

I’m aware that game!Yuu has assigned traits, though these are mostly implied in dialogue rather than showcased on-screen. For example, characters have dialogue or voice lines implying Yuu is a goody-two-shoes, patient, etc. There are also dialogue options which allow players to elaborate on their Yuu’s skills in certain activities (like in White Rabbit Fest, Yuu can either be good or bad at playing the bugle). However, I do not find this sufficient enough characterization, especially when most of Yuu's traits are not relevant to the main story and are TOLD to us rather than SHOWN to us.

Yuu does have established relationships with a select few characters which are consistent and maintained throughout the main story. I would say this is the only aspect of Yuu I enjoy, as these are the only parts that feel genuine about them. Nothing else has that same feeling. Yuu acts like a cookie cutter "nice guy" and barely ever worries about getting home--not because it would "make sense" for their character, but because if they're constantly shown in distress, it disrupts that "self-insert" appeal. What is a realistically a horrifying situation for them is a whimsical, magical fun-filled adventure for us, the players. This results in tonal dissonance which really disrupts my personal immersion.

I find game!Yuu so… boring. And honestly, being boring is just as offensive to me as being poorly written or just having a mishmash of character traits I just happen to dislike. When they’re as bland as they are, there’s so little room for them to grow and change as individuals because there was little baseline to use for comparison to begin with. There’s also few points in time where Yuu’s canonical bad points or flaws are made relevant. It results in them not really being a “character”. They don’t feel “real” at all (which is made even more obvious when placed in such a diverse and flawed cast).

I have my own ideas for how game!Yuu's writing could be improved (while still considering the confines of the game medium and retaining the self-insert appeal of them). Those ideas can be read here. I still stand by the belief that Yuu should remain a normal person and not become "the protagonist" of the story. But the game!Yuu we ended up getting??? Yeah, not my favorite.