#so I hope you enjoy <33< /div>
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
star-centric · 6 months ago
Text
A/N: this is just something random both to help me feel better and to write something since I haven’t wrote in weeks lmao- reader is gender neutral!
Chuuya loves to spoil you.
You’ve never been the one to ask for anything, and he wonders if it feeds into why he’s so ready to give you everything you want.
It could be something as small as a new book you’ve been wanting to read, or an outfit that caught your eye when you were both out on a date- you barely bat your eyes and Chuuya is already pulling you into the store, taking out his wallet.
Fancy dates at restaurants you would never dream of dining at, lavish clothes that had way too many zeros on the price tag, even flying out of Yokohama for the first time- the list goes on and on.
Chuuya senses your hesitation whenever he tries to give you gifts, and he can read you well to see why. You stress to him that he doesn’t have to do all of this, that you don’t want him to think that you’re relationship hinges on being materialistic, but he already knows. He’s not doing this because he has to, he’s doing it because he wants to. You deserve the best, and he makes it his mission to give you that.
You scold him every time he spoils you by surprise (which it’s starting to happen so much it really shouldn’t be surprising anymore), and all he does is laugh and press his lips against yours. He knows that you can get it yourself, but why when he can just get it for you now? He doesn’t have this black card for nothing, and he rather spend it all on you anyway (even if it’s on the small stuff you can get yourself).
And Chuuya knows that you appreciate it every time too.
He’ll do everything in his power to give you the world and more.
425 notes · View notes
dustykneed · 10 months ago
Text
hey psst. Stop scrolling ensign the triumvirate has some affirmations for you!
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
bonus:
Tumblr media
ok you can keep scrolling now. But they think you did a very good job! And they want to remind you that you are loved, and deserve to be loved, and that you are, and have always been, enough.
(live long and prosper out there everyone! remember that they are so very proud of you for being here🩵💙💛)
next affirmations post here
905 notes · View notes
kasterarts · 7 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Moving Forward. (Spoilers for YTTD up through 3-1b)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
539 notes · View notes
luminique · 1 month ago
Note
HEAR ME OUT, one sided love?? Imagine s/o doesn’t like lighter back, being oblivious about lighters feeling and only see lighter as a friend meanwhile lighter is so MADLY in love with them and is aware of s/o not liking him back but he can’t help it because you’re the only one that makes him feel this way even if his feelings aren’t reciprocated… they’re so doomed think about the potential angst!! 🫤
lighter isn’t perfect. his body is littered in scars of his past, his actions are solutions to mistakes he had made before. to say that he deserved something as rewarding as love didn’t sound right to him, but oh, would it feel right if it was from you.
it was definitely not an immediate fall, rather it was slower like starting a fire. you bring the materials you require, some wood and a starter. it’s difficult to get a fire going, even he knows that with his lighter in hand. his hand gets warmer the longer the flame is out but it doesn’t compare to the accidental grazes of your hand against his gloved ones.
he had poked you once with the spikes on his gloves. the look on your face when you brought your hand up to rub it while you apologized for it. why were you apologizing? every soft “sorry” that came out of your mouth was like sprinkling water onto the fire. best to get fresh firewood so that it doesn’t go out.
ensuring that the fire is a consistent flame is also important to prevent accidents. accidents like playfully taking off his sunglasses and putting it on yourself while imitating him. somehow, that didn’t cause the fire to go out, in fact, it made it burn even brighter than before. the redness on his face when he watched you was comparable to the orange and red hues of a fire.
he stayed close to the fire, close to you. feeling the warmth of love on his skin, finding it calming but also terrifying. it doesn’t rain often in the outer ring but that doesn’t stop him from worrying that it would all of a sudden. so he lies awake at night, thinking about all of the possibilities, the what ifs and its outcomes.
he thought he had considered everything. from keeping the fire from going out, to ensuring it was a stable flame, to tending it slowly and carefully. what he didn’t consider was getting too close to the fire, burning through what he thought was tough skin.
he was too focused on trying to maintain a certain personality, not quite showing his interest in you. so when caesar was talking to you about her love stories while everyone was hanging around the bar, his heart rate increased. just like how consuming alcohol affects one’s mental and physical state, so does it affect a fire. maybe someone poured his drink into the flames as he watched it burn even brighter than before, making him eavesdrop on your conversation.
but a large flame meant a higher possibility of getting burnt, and soon he saw the burn marks on his skin. as you continued to talk with caesar, the longer he let the fire burn him. how you had said that real love wasn’t like the stories, how you seemed disinterested in romance, how you had believed that no one was interested in you. at that moment, he ended up getting more drinks from burnice, hoping it would soothe the roaring flames within him. he drank so much and fell asleep to the soft crackling of the fire, your voice acting as background noise.
he woke up to the coldness of the bar counter pressing on his cheek. the fire had been put out by you when you tapped on his shoulder. the memories of last night flooding into his mind like water. maybe it was all some nightmare and you did like him back, but the sudden coolness of your touch made him realize the reality of it all.
you didn’t like him, and not because he did anything wrong but because he didn’t do anything in your eyes. you were feeding the fire in his heart and he mistook that fire for your heart too. he sat up straight, took one look at you and shook his head. you still cared for him, came with water and woke him up gently. he never intended to get so severely injured because of his own growing feelings for you.
his own feelings, you didn’t even know he had any for you. the pile of ashes, you both stared at it and yet only he knew that fire existed. the flames had misled him, danced around his heart that craved for you, that only asked for you as its fuel. now all he can do was sit next to what was once a big fire, feeling the cold on his skin despite the layers. no warmth left, no light left, no love left.
122 notes · View notes
birdietrait · 10 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
JJ Cleary + Anya Katz (mini sim dump)
the happy couple from my attempt at the random legacy challenge (now deleted from my blog) <3 i would love to see them in your saves, so feel free to tag me if you want!
all cc included, one outfit for each category
don't claim as your own or put them behind a paywall
download here: google drive
217 notes · View notes
kaidabakugou · 2 years ago
Text
attending an event where the concept is that you have to switch hero costumes with someone and you get paired with red riot
everyone is expecting you to wear a black tank top to cover up your chest but you absolutely break the internet when you show up with your front exposed and red riot gears pasties with ruby rhinestones just barely covering your nipples
which has red riot a sweaty mess inside the costume that was made to match your hero suit, all of a sudden feeling too tight around his big, muscular body every time he’s around you throughout the event because you’ve been his hero crush for as long as he can remember and the sight of you looking so sexy in his hero suit has him fighting back a boner all night
Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes
artist-rat · 3 months ago
Note
Hi, it has been a while, so I just wanted to drop by and remind you that I love your art, your little rats are adorable and the Hawke commission I got from you is still my fav art I got commissioned ever. Really love it. Wishing you all the best 🌼✨🐀 (The little rat deserves a treat for being awesome)
aw hi!! it's so nice to hear from you, i hope you're well! thank you so much for the kind words and i'm so happy to hear it 💘💘
Tumblr media
^ here's a rat enjoying some (probably rat-forbidden) treats! (it's okay though since it's a metaphorical rat who cannot be harmed by forbidden treats!)
36 notes · View notes
chonkymoth · 1 month ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Did somebody say I feel we're sinking deeper with more Speed the more we strive Is that what we get for playing Too close to the sun?
arthur pendragon of bbc's merlin + close to the sun by porcelain pill
36 notes · View notes
anxihazel · 30 days ago
Text
I'm gonna share a random thought I had while rewatching Whitepine because I love this series and I love analyzing media <3333 Alright so, I might be wrong here but it's so unbelievably interesting to me how well everything would - and does - point to Ivory being the one that murdered Mysti . Like, imagine we weren't the viewers for a second, imagine we didn't see from her perspective at all and we watched from like, idk Maddy's pov or Ivo's or anybody else's ;; For instance, everything major started happening AFTER Ivory joined the Hemlockes, Ivory acts incredibly different from others - she's quiet and reserved, she has a tendency to go outside and out of other's sight (So all the other servants barely see her ;; although that may not actually be that big of a problem since they have to work all day and probably don't see a lot of each other anyway - but for the sake of the argument lets just say it's an incriminating fact) and out of everybody else, she's most likely the only person that reacted the way she did to the murder during the police questioning; Ivory seems like the perfect suspect, and by all means others should definitely believe she's the one that did it, but there's one major problem with that -- We know she didn't. She's the main character; We know Ivory didn't murder anyone because us, as the viewers, know where she is almost all the time ;; and while we don't have all the context in the world, we've still been following Ivory closely enough to understand that she can't be the one who did it. The reason Whitepine is so interesting to me as a series is because we follow the one person who's most mysterious, most suspicious, the one we - by all means - should have no reason to trust from an outsider's perspective ;; and here in lies the problem, we aren't outsiders. We literally see the world ONLY from Ivory's pov; Therefore, what do you do when out of the two given sides - the people you're supposed to trust and the people you shouldn't - the only certainty that you have is that the character that all red arrows point to isn't the one who did the crime, the one who sinned. If you can trust the untrustworthy in the case of murder, than who from the character's we're supposed to trust, can we trust? Anyway yeah that's all, I just wanted to share this thought process - it's most likely a very obvious part of the narrative but I haven't seen many people acknowledge it so I wanted to!!! :33
23 notes · View notes
yujeong · 3 months ago
Text
Time was at a standstill. Vegas was holding his breath without noticing, and continued to hold it when he did - he was afraid of what would happen if he exhaled loudly enough to draw attention to himself. His gaze was shifting between Pete and the man who was standing before them in the doorway, blocking their entrance. Vegas had never seen him before, but even so, he recognized Pete in him enough to know who he was. A dangerous aura surrounded him. There was an edge to his presence that Vegas would only come across people of certain circles. He was a fighter. A muay khao. Pete's father. Shame coursed through Vegas' body, smearing his skin, settling in his lungs, rendering him speechless. I thought he was dead, he wanted to tell Pete if he could. He wanted to scream at him, I thought you killed him. Pete was the one who broke the stillness. As if awakened by something, he took a half-step back and made a motion with his arms, almost raising them to his chest, but not quite. In an instant, Pete reverted into the pet Vegas had been keeping at the safehouse, bound by handcuffs and afraid of his belt hitting flesh and drawing blood. A lump formed in Vegas' throat. "Have you stopped practicing? Your form is off." The uncanny similarities between Pete and his father appearance-wise didn't mean a thing when it came to their voices. Vegas shivered. Was this what Pete would sound like in a few decades? (Were these the condescending words he'd choose to spew? Was Pete going to embody his father? Was Vegas embodying his?) "What are you doing here?" Pete whispered. "They let me out for a few days, so I came here to collect some money. Imagine my surprise when I found out my offspring left the job someone found him worthy enough of doing to... do what exactly? Yaai didn't want to tell me." He crossed his arms, waiting for an answer. Vegas didn't know what he was allowed to say. If he was allowed to say anything at all. "It's none of your business." "I'd say it very much is my business, as well as yaai's business who was dependent on the money you were making being some rich asshole's human shield." A choked sound scratched Vegas' throat. He didn't like getting reminded of Pete being the main family's bodyguard, even though he stopped being one mere months ago. Especially like this. That was the first time Pete's father stopped looking at his son and turned his head to look at Vegas. For a moment, there seemed to be recognition in his eyes. Did he know who Vegas was? Did he care? A snort came out of his mouth. He leaned on the door. "Oh, I see how it is." He laughed, scratched his neck. "I never expected you to whore yourself out for money. Tell me, is it preferable to the path I carved out for you?" Vegas could sense the disgust in his voice. He could also see it on Pete's face. He was too astonished to share it, but not enough to be unable to speak. "Khun, there has been some misunderstanding-" "Don't bother. I can recognize a faggot when I see one." Pete's movements were too fast for Vegas to stop him. A direct jab to the nose; his father fell like a pack of cards, groaning like a wounded animal. Surprisingly, no blood - Pete held back. Vegas didn't know what to think about that. "That was a pathetic attack, even for you." "Get up." "We're not in the ring, son." Pete growled. Vegas could see his hands trembling as he was keeping them in the air, maintaining an offensive stance. "That never stopped you before." "You were too young to understand what I was doing back then. What I was preparing you for." Pete was silent. "The world isn't kind. It'll fuck you over one way or another." He got up, spat on the ground. "You still haven't learned a thing. You're too old to afford being naive." He turned around, and without sparing a look at Pete again, said: "Now get the fuck out of my house." (For @musictooth, whose posts about Pete's father have reignited my passion for this specific concept and for @wretchedamaranth, whose comments on my writing are always lovely and precious ❤️)
#tw slur#vegaspete#pete saengtham#snippet#yu is writing#I started writing this today while waiting for my bus to arrive and wrote most of it on public transport <33#(hopefully it doesn't show lol)#there's a lot of context missing here but basically: VP visit yaai and a wild father appears#I didn't have space to include her unfortunately but just imagine her in the background with a sad look on her face#which is mostly fixed on Vegas :))#for no reason at all :))#due to a certain someone who I won't name (😤) I mayyy turn this into a fic? Maybe?#because 1. I did have a similar idea a year or so ago but never did anything with it and 2. this concept NEEDS to be explored more come on#because in my mind Vegas and Pete can't go to yaai's house until/unless Pete's father leaves#all their stuff is in her house#and they only have Vegas' car with which they traveled there#and Bangkok is too far away to go back now in the middle of the night (yes this happens at night time)#so basically what I'm saying is: VP will spend their night in the car :)#I'm sure the combination of an agitated Pete and a tired Vegas who's also equating Pete with his father due to their external similarities#will be a delightful experience for them both#I'm vibrating out of my skin just thinking about it#can I promise I'll write it and put it out there? Hell no#can I still get excited by the prospect of it happening? Hell yes#sorry I'm rambling a little too much over here#I just haven't felt this good writing in MONTHS#thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it <3333
25 notes · View notes
littencloud9 · 5 months ago
Note
Can you do more Kunisig,,, I love them,, /nf
I ADORE THEM!! have this drabble based on this post by @ixapixie bc it has been plaguing my mind since i saw it
-
Sigma is getting ready for work, putting their hair up in a ponytail with a hair tie they borrowed from Kyouka, when they hear Dazai's voice from the other room. They're aware that this is a regular occurrence between Dazai and Kunikida—that is, Kunikida calling Dazai to check up on him. At first they were surprised, for it seemed out of character from the sharp-tongued, stern detective. But, well, Sigma has been training under Kunikida since they joined. And from their interactions, they've learned that he's extremely devoted and considerate of his fellow Agency members. Though extremely serious, Kunikida extends a patient hand to Sigma every day, speaking to them with much more gentleness than the rest. It makes them feel— ah, well, they probably shouldn't read too much into it. They'll fluster themself. "Sigma!" Dazai calls, prancing into the room. His cane has been tossed aside, which Sigma is about to scold him for, but they freeze when they see Kunikida's contact on Dazai's phone, still on the line. "Kunikida-kun asked how you were doing! Wanna talk to him? Here!" Sigma puts a hand up, waving it frantically. "Oh, no, no, it's fine." Dazai doesn't listen, because of course he doesn't. If anything, he starts grinning gleefully. "Don't be shy. I'm sure he's dying to talk to you. Here they are, Kunikida-kun!" Sigma flinches when the phone is shoved in their face. Dazai lets go and they scramble to catch it, about to shout expletives at him for being so careless, but they're immediately distracted by Kunikida's voice through the phone. "Sigma," Kunikida greets, "good morning." "U-uh, good morning." They grimace at how weak their voice is, glaring at Dazai, who is watching with his cheeks held between his palms. "I hope Dazai didn't cause you any trouble." Kunikida lets out a deep sigh, though Sigma can hear the fondness beneath it. It makes their heart stutter. "I'll see you in the office later? There's a new plan about case assignments to be implemented, but I want to go through it with you first. I think your opinion will be valuable." "Really?" Sigma blurts out. They flush when Dazai chokes on a giggle. "I mean, yeah, sure. That sounds good. I'll see you later, Kunikida-san." They hang up before they can hear anything else, tossing the phone away. Dazai bursts out laughing this time, hands on his stomach and bending over. "Sigma, you're so cute when you have a crush!" "I'm going to kill you," Sigma hisses, their face burning brighter. "If it helps, I'm sure Kunikida-kun likes you too—" "Shut the fuck up!"
32 notes · View notes
camellcat · 4 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
close ups!! ≽ܫ≼
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
25 notes · View notes
garfieldstim · 7 months ago
Note
Hiiiiii !! I loved your red han jisung l stimboard 😋 I was wondering if you might be able to do a Jisung + Howl’s Moving Castle board? Or just similar Ghibli style blue/greens. Something really soft. Thank you for considering my request!!
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
han jisung(skz) with howls moving castle/ghibli themes and soft blues and greens
x x x / x - x / x x x
38 notes · View notes
chitsangenthusiast · 2 years ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
for @scrtminlikesdrawing 💚 ↳ haru has a super cool rock he wants to show you! :)
(he's interactive! video below the cut)
[video id: begins with a small haru sitting in a carved out geode, both made of layered paper. the rock is glued to a piece of cardstock. haru is soon removed from the rock so that the cardstock can be flipped. on the backside, jet's hands are featured, also made of layered paper. his hands are significantly larger and cupped so that haru can sit nestled in them when he's brought back into frame. his head is given a couple of soft pats on his head before the video ends.]
492 notes · View notes
angeart · 4 months ago
Note
How dare Link correctly predict my reaction to teases, how dare (<3) YES I wanna know what prompted the upset, what well meaning thing went so wrong D: And that bit about still hoping to be loved breaks my heart for them
-🎀
the bit about still hoping to be loved broke my heart too, and that's why i needed to include it <3
so, about hermits wanting to help them. one smaller example is them taking a look at scar's tattered wings and suggesting that maybe they could help fix them. which is good!
but this comes after scar having his wings like this for about a year, and it took a long time for him to learn to accept them as they are. he's no longer ashamed of them, seeing them simply as a part of himself now. (the same way his scars have always been)
and, sure, he will still take a chance at having them healed, but it still rubs him wrong, in a way. even though it's a kind, well-meaning offer. because it proposes that he needs to be fixed.
but a whole big issue stems from something else.
we know scar and grian have changed.
grian, in particular, flinches a lot and seems scared. scar, on the other hand, often shields grian, and calls on his vex traits to intimidate the danger away, showing he's not afraid to fight. (he is afraid. he's constantly afraid.) and they're both awfully codependent, clinging to each other and isolating from everyone else.
[1,7k rambles and ~3,2k rp snippets below the cut]
one of the things they leaned into in that other world was their hybrid traits. and they show in the way they interact with each other, you know? the way they express trust and love and know what the other one needs.
well, scar is a vex.
we know there's a mating bite, but that's not everything. him and grian indulge in a lot of biting and blood related stuff. all consensual! grian is a little freak so he likes it!
it's something the two of them do, privately and intimately. it's safe, it's fun, it's theirs. them being insanely in love and ready to give all of themselves over. lose all of control on both sides, at least for a moment, in a world that hardly allows such a thing.
but here's the issue: the others don't know anything about any of it. they don't know what scar and grian have been through. they don't know anything about vex instincts or mating rituals. they don't understand anything about this new thing.
so when they see grian timid, bruised and bitten? and they know that scar seems more violent now, sharp-fanged and clawed?
let's just say they get concerned. and stage a bit of an intervention.
they just want to make sure that grian is okay! it... should be a good thing. except they've separated them and are now cornering grian, asking all these questions and voicing all these assumptions. and it's a bit awful, actually.
grian is pressed into having to explain that yeah, actually, he wanted all of that. that it's love.
but him naming the so obvious damage love just rings more alarm bells. and maybe someone asks him if it's a form of self harm, to allow that to happen to him? like, if grian seeks it out, is it self destructive? is that why he craves it?
and sort of, him and scar spiral about this in different ways.
grian struggles with untangling his way out of it, because what if they're right? what if he subconsciously sought harm? but he liked it? is it wrong to enjoy it? he knows that he had his moments when he was actively trying to bring himself damage. mostly aimed at his wings—plucking out his feathers and such. but is this just another thing like that? a substitute damage of sorts? was he just oblivious this whole time?
grian never had a previous relationship experience, so he really can't tell what is love. where does it end and Something Bad begins? he associates the bites with love, but is that bad? is he wrong? would it feel different if someone else showed him that love is something else? did he just manipulate himself into feeling like this and now he's in too deep?
at least he knows scar would never hurt him if grian says no. if grian doesn't want it. but... if grian wants it... is it self destructive? is that what it means? or maybe he was just chasing the aftermath? the soft care (that scar'd offer regardless)?
his mind is a mess and he can't figure out what his real feelings in this all are. he doesn't know how to figure it out. he gets really confused and worried and scared. (he's terrified that they're right, not necessarily for himself, but because of what that'd do to scar.) (he's scared that scar will blame himself over this. that no matter the outcome, this is inevitably going to mess something up between the two of them.)
in the meanwhile, scar feels like a monster. like maybe he was doing something wrong this whole time. was he enabling something horrible? was he genuinely hurting grian this whole time, unaware?
because he's a vex, and it makes sense to want this on his end, but grian is an avian, and... maybe scar should've questioned it more? shouldn't have been so eager to indulge? did he do something irreparably cruel without meaning to?
through this all, he reassures grian it's okay to take a break from it, or even to completely stop. it's fine! it's always been fine! but despite that, their feelings continue to spiral, caught in a maze they can't escape.
it used to be so simple. back in the vex commune. scar never had to doubt himself and the way they express their love. not when it came to this.
and now suddenly it seems so different. so vile and wrong and horrible. people are genuinely concerned and scar and grian wonder, separately, if maybe they're right to be?
... eventually they both hurtle towards a breaking point. and scar decides he needs to talk to someone about it. and grian decides he needs to be alone for a moment, becoming overwhelmed, needing some space to think.
i really want to tell you about what happens in the talk scar has with the others, but i can't. not quite yet.
anyway, this is where the breakdowns come in. (yes. multiple.)
first is scar's during the conversation he has. he gets to hear a lot of good, wise, reassuring things, but ultimately, he still needs to hear from grian. he's been trying so hard not to influence grian's conclusion to all of this, but. he needs to know grian's thoughts, once grian is ready.
grian is not ready. he's been growing so emotionally worn out from all of this, so volatile and fragile. it's all a bit Too Much.
scar messages him, checking up on him.
are you okay?
and
i'm here waiting for you whenever you come back
and
but i'll come find you if you want me to
and
i love you
... but here's the thing, right? neither scar nor grian are used to comms anymore. so grian doesn't read any of that.
they regress back to what they know.
scar howls.
grian chirps.
and only then does scar's comm ping.
come.
zero hesitation, scar unfolds his wings and jumps off the balcony, rushing towards where that chirp came from. he's being called. he's being wanted.
he'd go anywhere for grian.
he finds grian perched atop a tree. struggles to climb up, but never falters. because grian's now starting to cry, and scar needs to be there.
tucked safely into scar's gentle, loving arms, grian breaks down.
--
with a hitched sob, grian falls forwards into scar's arms, burrowing easily into the warmth and familiarity and security.
he wants to say he's sorry. he's sorry this is so hard for him. he's sorry he can't untangle this; sorry he can no longer tell which are his feelings and which are just things people have suggested he might feel. he's sorry he's making this so difficult. he's sorry he's worrying everyone.
but words evade him as scar's arms provide just enough safety for his guards to crumble lower, making him just sob instead.
--
and believe it or not, somewhere in the midst of this (hey do have a proper talk, if a bit tear-drenched) is scar's second breakdown. (grian's time to hold him!!!) that's where the rp snippet in the previous ask is from. and you'll get more of that in a second.
first i just need to tease the aftermath, because i'm a menace.
after crying and comforting their hearts out, they fly(!!!) back. there's immense relief to wind in grian's feathers, and a dangerous edge of the feeling of freedom it brings, wanting to soothe all the cracks on his soul... but the truth is, his soul is still cracked. and he's still depleted. he knows he's still hovering over something so incomprehensibly fragile. that the smallest prod will set him off and break him again.
they arrive at their nest—scar first, to warn their company not to ask questions, grian second.
it doesn't stop it from happening. grian was right: the smallest thing can set him off.
so he has another breakdown, possibly a bigger one, drawing on far deeper hurt that screams and tears at his heart. and plunges all three other people in the room into breakdowns of their own <3333
(yes that's the part we can't talk about. yet.)
aNYWAY!!! how about some rp bits.
---------------
SCAR
Despite Grian’s crying being entirely contagious— or perhaps Scar is just simply too empathetic and emotional himself— Scar’s had practice with consoling his sweet bird. He knows what he ought to do here. 
He tightens his hold until it’s snug and secure, then pressed a few little kisses to whatever part of Grian’s head he can reach.
And then he talks.
“I knew you’d be up in a tree somewhere.” His voice wobbles a bit, but it’s alright. “I wanted to give you some time… I missed you though. Like immediately.”
He chuckles softly, knowing their bond borders on codependent, even if it’s something they’ve worked on since they’ve gotten home. Still, it’s okay to poke fun at it, he thinks. It’s okay to admit the truth.
--
GRIAN
grian's sobs quiet down a little as scar talks, energy redirected to hook into the familiar rumble of his slightly quivery voice, sniffling as he listens to what scar has to say. 
it's sometimes hard to decipher the meaning of sentences when he gets like this, but scar doesn't seem to expect an answer; he's not asking him anything, and grian's grateful for being given time, a grace period where he can just cling and cry and calm down while scar holds him. 
he laugh-sobs at the note that it was obvious he'd be in a tree. he's given scar a lot of hard time in the past until he figured out that lesson, but now he always knows unfailingly where to search when grian's heart needs him after cowardly isolation.
he comes every time. he comes and he finds him and he holds him. 
grian sniffles, despondent, burrowing tighter in. he chirps a little to encourage scar to go on, to keep talking; the sound of it is shaky, about to fall apart to pieces, but he thinks it still counts. it's still something. a participation, not leaving scar stranded and alone in this.
--
OK LOOK WE HAVE TO SKIP AHEAD HERE BECAUSE [REDACTED] REASONS
--
GRIAN
grian hums again, fond and soft, slumped against scar with utmost trust. and then he finally says it. "'m sorry."
--
SCAR
"Hey, none of that, mister," Scar says, shaking his head into Grian's hair in more of a no than a nuzzle now. "It was a lot, it's okay. You needed a moment."
He places another kiss.
"And you knew I'd be here in a heartbeat when you were ready, right?" Scar grins sheepishly.
--
GRIAN
grian's hands trace idle patterns on scar's back as he gets comforted by words and another kiss. he closes his eyes, taking it in, before replying with a soft little "yeah."
-- 
SCAR
Scar purrs at the affection, openly so. "Doin' a little better now?"
--
GRIAN
grian nods, still right against scar, clingily pressed into him. "yeah, i... yeah."
--
SCAR
Scar doesn't budge, not interested in releasing his darling bird just yet. "...what's on your mind?" he prompts softly, hoping to get a glimpse at Grian's inner turmoil.
--
GRIAN
with eyes still closed, grian lets the pause linger just a moment, before replying with a quiet but honest, "right now? how nice this feels."
--
SCAR
Scar chuckles again, a little anxiety getting settled by that fact, though certainly not all. "Oh, well that's good, yes. I agree with that sentiment entirely."
--
GRIAN
"good," grian purrs, squeezing at scar. "'coz i don't wanna lose it."
--
SCAR
Scar's ears twitch, something awfully depressing in those few words. "Hey, no, never," he assures. "This is never going away, okay?" 
Since he seriously doubts cuddling is about to give anyone the wrong ideas.
--
GRIAN
grian has to swallow several times for his feelings to not go off the rails again. he takes a shaky breath, still squeezing at scar, as if he was afraid he might disappear. "... okay."
--
SCAR
"And neither am I!" Scar tacks on, even if it should go without saying. Even if it may be a little dramatic. But he thinks maybe Grian needs to hear that fact stated with absolute certainty. "I love you too dang much."
--
GRIAN
that gets grian to loosen his grip a little, enough to shuffle and look up. hair messy and eyes glistening and red rimmed, he looks up at scar with so much aching adoration, it feels like he might drown. 
"i think it's okay if— if we love each other in our own way," he says sheepishly. he ducks down, laying his head on scar's shoulder, feeling shy as his hands go back to tracing patterns on scar's lower back. "even if the others don't understand or agree." there's a precipice of a pause, and then the most timid little "... right?"
--
SCAR
Scar's heart stutters, and his ears flick up again with carefully optimistic anticipation at Grian's words. His eyes threaten to flood over again, but the tears feel different, more cathartic, less miserable. 
He tucks his head over Grian's again, brushing his cheek over his locks affectionately, daring to release a few hopeful tears as Grian says what he desperately hoped he might. 
"I..." he starts, still trying not to influence this decision if he can help it, but... "I think so. ...I mean it's—" He thinks of [REDACTED], and chuckles wetly, morphing them in his own Scar-silly way. "It's not really anyone else's business what we do in the bedroom, is it?"
--
GRIAN
grian's hands still against scar's back, simply holding him for a moment as he soaks up scar's nuzzles. there's wetness to them, something that makes grian's heart ache as he worries about all the possible meanings, but hopes against all hope that it's just scar getting positively emotional—a relief of sorts above all else. 
a small strained chuckle makes it past his lips, and he muffles it into a kiss that he presses into scar's shoulder. "right. exactly."
--
SCAR
Scar weakly smiles, giving Grian a squeeze. "...but seriously, I— you know it's okay if we stop, right? If you ever change your mind— and I mean your mind, nobody else's— then it's fine! But... I... yeah." Another squeeze. "I just want to be sure you know that."
--
GRIAN
there's a barely stifled sigh, but no hint of tension pools across grian's back. his hold remains still and gentle, his head idly leaning on scar's shoulder. "i know," he murmurs.
--
SCAR
"Good," Scar states, ducking lower so his forehead presses into Grian for a moment before releasing just enough so he could escape the big bear hug if he wanted. “... you know, [REDACTED]”
--
WE ARE ACTUALLY TAKING ANOTHER LEAP, ANOTHER SKIP, ANOTHER SCRIBBLED OUT SECTION. bear with us <33
--
SCAR
[REDACTED VERY REDACTED] “I mean, I had to learn all this vex stuff, too. It’s not… I mean it’s certainly not the most family-friendly sort of culture but that doesn’t mean it’s wrong, does it?”
--
GRIAN
grian blinks at that, lifting his head in attention. this really surprises him, for some reason. that [WOO REDACTED AGAIN WOW] 
"oh." he takes a moment, leaning slightly back, inviting scar's touch a little bit further. "yeah... yeah, i think he's—" he bounces the words around in his head again, then settles on: "it's a learning curve every way, isn't it? whenever there's new instincts and..." he skirts around the words mating rituals, feeling a faint warmth rise up to his cheeks. he looks away briefly, teething at his bottom lip as he thinks of all the worries he himself used to have, all the mistakes kane made, all the effort and talking and correcting it took for things to finally have it all sink in the proper way. 
he clears his throat, shyly looking back at scar, but then his gaze anchors and softens. his hand travels up from scar's chin, brushing through his hair, tucking a strand behind his ears. "it's not wrong."
--
SCAR
“It’s not?” Scar asks meekly, even though he was the one to propose so first. To have Grian confirm it is so much more important. Because even if they can agree it’s not wrong for Scar to have sought out these things, ultimately he wants it to be right for Grian as well.
Scar chews at his lip nervously, but still tilts toward the offered affection, absolutely weak to it.
--
GRIAN
"mmm." grian lets his fingers brush through scar's hair again, gentle with him at every step. "it's not wrong," he repeats softly.
--
SCAR
Scar opens his eyes, both of them glistening with potential tears, but he offers up a weak, wobbly smile, appreciating every graze of Grian’s fingers. “…is it— it’s not wrong for you either?”
--
GRIAN
grian takes in scar's expression and he leans in for a short kiss. "it's not wrong for me," he murmurs, right over scar's lips. 
and maybe he still feels confused, and maybe he still has some exploring and figuring out to do, just to really settle things in his heart, but he knows scar will be there with him every step of the way. just like he knows that [REDACTED] is right—scar is good for him. 
and he wants all of him.
--
SCAR
The tears fall alongside a pitiful little chuckle, but Scar leans right back in for another kiss, not caring at all for the wetness that streaks down his cheeks. 
They can match now. It’s fine.
“I… I’m—?” Scar falters, and he laughs again, ducking his head down in slight embarrassment. He can’t even bring himself to say it. To even imply that he was worried that he was wrong for Grian. “…okay.”
--
GRIAN
the sight of tears breaks grian's heart. still keeping one arm around scar, hoping it'd make him feel close and secure, he lowers his other hand from scar's hair to his cheek, gently collecting the wetness even as scar leans in for a kiss. (one that grian gladly gives.) 
even though scar doesn't finish his question, grian can connect the dots. he remembers the time when he himself thought he's not good for scar, and he knows how awful and heavy that self doubt was.
with utmost tenderness, he kisses scar's cheek, right in the path of wetness, while his fingers gently brush the tears on the other side. "scar." it's quiet, reverent. irredeemably loving.
he pulls away, wanting scar to look at him as he says this. his wings twitch, brushing over scar's, curling inwards towards him. pressing against scar's sides under scar's wings as grian lets go of his back in favour of cupping his face, thumbs brushing over cheeks.
"scar, you're good for me."
he strings up the words, slow and deliberate and certain.
--
SCAR
It’s Scar’s turn to break again, clearly, as his eyes water over and big, wet tears fall down his cheeks and collect over Grian’s hands. He doesn’t even have words to respond with, just wide, grateful eyes and wobbly lips that can’t decide between a cry or a smile. 
His hands also find their way over Grian’s, though one escapes to run his own thumb over Grian’s cheek in turn, still feeling the dampness there. It’s oddly comforting.
“…sometimes I worry the hermits don’t think that,” he admits, gaze flicking away as he tries to keep a strong facade. (Hard to do while he’s actively crying, but it could certainly be worse.)
--
GRIAN
"oh, scar." grian sighs, heartbroken, brows pulling into a pained frown upon hearing that admission. he can hardly bear this, knowing scar's been made to feel like this.
he leans in to press a kiss to his forehead, wings slinking further along, wrapping around scar right underneath his vex wings. he wants to cocoon them into warmth and safety, away from these treacherous feelings.
the hermits managed to somehow break both of them down, with nothing more than good intentions.
grian hates the uncertain, askew feeling that pushes bitter bile up his throat, telling him maybe they're not quite right for this place anymore. that they forgot how to belong, but nobody has caught up yet and still expects them to be their selves that they can no longer reach.
“you know [REDACTED I AM SO SORRY]” he attempts a smile, though it's hard. he tugs at scar, wanting to pull him in for a hug, tuck him underneath his own chin, all safe and protected, but he leaves it up to scar whether he wants that or needs more breathing room right now. 
"maybe they need time. i... i've been hiding away a lot and. honestly i don't think they can tell what's good for me anymore. not right now." it's hard to admit. "even if they mean well." but well-meaning that hurts both him and scar is just meddlesome. 
maybe they needed this though, in a way. it would be better if it came from a different place, subtler, gentler, but still. maybe they needed to work through exactly these feelings.
"anyone who says you're not good for me will get smacked," he threatens, remembering scar's (and kane's) offers to bite people who look at grian wrong, in a way returning the favour. "'coz they're wrong and they have no business spewing nonsense."
--
SCAR
Scar gladly takes up the offer to be smothered in affection, and he boldly chooses to corporealize his wings fully and gently tug them around the base of Grian's, knowing well that wing-on-wing contact is almost always acceptable. And right now that sort of thing brings immense comfort to him, too. It's something they both share, after all. A pair of wings and a pair of patched up hearts.
"I know they mean well..." Scar whines into Grian's chest this time, and though there's no cozy shawl to bury himself in, it's just as comforting. "but they don't know everything, and... and I know that's mostly on us, but god it's just... it's so much sometimes, Grian." 
It's not exactly pleasant to recall those memories. To try to explain just how horrific it was to their old friends. To look them in the eyes and admit that they're different now because they had to be. (And how they still hope to be loved despite it all.)
--
GRIAN
grian wraps scar up in his arms, holding him close. one hand in scar's hair, the other sliding down between his shoulderblades, rubbing at that point between his wings, unaware he's copying exactly what [REDACTED] did earlier.
the pressure of scar's wings over his own helps him settle a little, gives him comfort and courage through this glass-shards of a conversation.
"they don't know everything," he echoes quietly, kissing the top of scar's head before he leans his cheek on it, cradling him. "i just wish..." he closes his eyes and tugs at scar, holds him a little bit tighter. he doesn't really know how to finish that sentence; all the words feel like they're crashing and splintering over sharp cliffs.
all that's left in the rubble is a weary sense of defeat. "it is so much," he agrees. "it's so tiring to... they expect us to be..." he doesn't finish any of his sentences, but he wonders if scar understands anyway.
--
SCAR
Scar understands perfectly. He nods softly as he listens, lulled in by those soft touches, tears drying as he lets Grian’s presence fully engulf him.
“…they expect us to be the same,” Scar finishes for him, certain that Grian’s had the same trouble he has, though perhaps to a different degree. “And… maybe we won’t ever be. But… I don’t think all the ways we changed are bad. Like— sure, we’re still messed up and jumpy and… and I mean, frankly traumatized, but…” There’s an effort to poke his head up, but Scar finds himself too reluctant to leave the comfort of Grian’s arms just yet. “We’re also in love. And… we have a new appreciation for life. And each other.” A half-sniffle, half-chuckle gets stuffed into Grian’s chest. “…is that too sappy?”
--
GRIAN
grian chuckles mirthlessly at the list of things they suck at, their reactions and trauma stitched close to them like their shadow, endless and monstrous, looming behind their every step. but scar is right: they have changed in so many messed up ways, and they might never be the same, but... it's not all bad. 
"we're in love," grian echoes, a notch lighter, just a little bit amused that the list of dark things ends with a complete shift, plunging them into sappiness. it's such a scar-like thing to do; he's aware of just how bad things have gotten, but that doesn't mean he won't fight to dredge up every little optimistic and hopeful thing out of it anyway.
grian loves it. it's gotten him through many dark times, this quality that scar has. his tenacious way of thinking and latching onto bright things, even if it's a barely flickering flame amidst complete, terrifying darkness.
he kisses his head again and then nuzzles against his hair, humming. "it's scar level sappy," he replies, mulling it, before landing on: "which means it's perfect." 
the only time scar's level of sappy is too much is when he's flustering grian, but he's not going to point that out, in case scar takes it as a challenge to compare the two right here and right now. (he'd be capable. grian knows.) 
he rubs at scar's back again, humming a soft melody, wanting to calm him further. but there's one thing even he can unearth from the ashes, something written into all their stitches and scars.
"we survived." 
nothing can beat that. no matter how they've changed, or what they can now see in a different light.
they made it.
"and we're good for each other."
--
SCAR
Scar giggles at the term. Scar-level sappy, indeed. His own brand of optimism, wrapped in layers of insecurity but boundless levels of adoration. 
And it got him this far, didn’t it?
“We survived,” Scar repeats, because that’s so damn important. They survived. And they did it because they were together.
Because they’re good together.
“…the power of love,” Scar adds, soft and sentimental and maybe just a bit goofy, hoping to turn the tides from tears to mirthful laughter.
--
GRIAN
once again he gets grian to giggle in a fragile moment—a talent scar has and grian values. in retaliation, he shifts his hands, brings them much closer, until he can tease at scar's ears. 
"we survived, so now i can do this!" his cheeks are still wet, and he feels depleted from all the heavy emotions, but he still manages a grin as he tries to make scar squirm.
--
SCAR
Scar barks out a fit of genuine laughter, somewhat startled by the shift, but he can’t complain when his lips are suddenly tipped into a bright smile and his ears are flicking wildly at the affectionate abuse. 
“Hey!! No fair! I’ve been so gentle!!” he cackles, already shedding that mercy and tickling at Grian’s ribs.
---------------
aaand i'm going to end on this note (because you know it devolves again. we're good at making things fall apart repeatedly <3 a great angst loop if you ask me.)
but, i'm going to leave you with a little bonus. which is what me and link talked about today. on this same topic, really.
which is how scar changed. hermits know him as the guy who dies a lot, right? also easily distracted, carefree, easily dissipating into giggles, easily brushing things off. all of that.
he could get startled by a fly. he'd yelp and stumble and fall over when he got scared.
but that other world forced other things on him. it forced him to be brave, or at least, to seem like it. forced him to fight to keep himself and grian safe. fight for them both to survive.
now when he gets scared? there are wings and claws and fangs.
he couldn't show weakness in that world, you know?
and it sticks. it sinks its talons into him and holds.
the only person he shows weakness around is grian. and... maybe if he'd been willing to show it more around the other hermits, they'd see that he's still scar.
that he's still scar and he's hurting and afraid.
(yes blame link for this heartbreak brb sobbing with u)
also. a potential conversation:
someone saying to grian (while scar is also possibly there): "scar came back... wrong."
grian angrily counters with "no, scar came back different but not wrong."
and then
quieter
"... i came back wrong."
because, think about it. scar changed, but it can be argued that some of it is better and he's just being misunderstood. but grian? grian can't imagine any good coming from how he's now.
he didn't grow braver or kinder or stronger or any of those things. he just caused [REDACTED]. he's a scared, hurting mess. there's nothing good about him now.
as link said in our discord dms: scar needs to scoop grian up and remind him that he's here for the whole ride. he'll be here while grian learns to heal.
because he will heal.
26 notes · View notes
Text
the needle gathering dust
hi! this is my gift for @swiftiefirefighters as part of the @buddietommydaily gift exchange :)! I had fun with this silly idea - and it kind of got away from me. Sorry to drag it on, but there will be a second (hopefully not a third) chapter in a few days lol. Tommy wanted to keep running into his loves instead of moving the plot forward, so here we are lol.
I hope you enjoy!
(title from Blues for Almost Forgotten Music by Roxane Beth Johnson)
~
“Agent 21! It’s been too long.”
Tommy sighed. Not again.
Sure enough, when he turned around, there stood Agent 115 and Agent 105. Matching suits, matching “hidden” guns, and matching cocky grins. Tommy was waiting for the day Agent 105 came in with scar matching Agent 115’s. Agent 115, who had spoken, had a key in his hand – that must’ve been how they got into the room. Tommy had double checked that the door was locked, but it didn’t matter when your opponents had keys.
“15, 05,” he responded dryly. “It’s been two weeks.”
Agent 115 looked deeply offended.
“He can’t even say the first digit,” he said mournfully. “Our poor ‘1’s.”
Agent 105 nodded, then added: “And two weeks is a long time for us.”
Tommy sighed again. They were almost always on the same missions as him, somehow. Half the time it didn’t even seem like something the A.A.H. would be interested in, given that they mainly focused on information over technology. Yet here they were.
“Listen, I’m just trying to do my job,” Tommy said, not able to stop the exasperation from bleeding into his voice. “All I need is the crystal.”
Agent 115 grimaced and Agent 105 sucked in a breath.
“Unfortunately,” said the former. “That’s what we’re here for, too.” 
Agent 105 nodded.
“We could always team up to get it,” continued Agent 115, a hopeful smile on his face.
Tommy blinked.
“There’s one crystal.”
“He’s got a point,” Agent 105 said quietly. Tommy started edging towards the other door as they whispered a few things to each other. They were like an old married couple – half the time, Tommy wondered if they were one. But hey – if it distracted them, it was all the better for him. Just a few more feet. . .
A shot sounded, and a metallic bang. Tommy dropped to the ground automatically, but no other shots came. He looked back at the door, only to see the handle blown off to who knows where. He growled in frustration as he turned his gaze back to the agents.
“Sorry, 21,” Agent 105 said, and he almost sounded regretful. “We can’t let you do that.”
“Seriously?” groused Tommy. These guys couldn’t mind their own business. He rolled to the side and hopped to his feet before tossing a charge at the door, then drew his own gun while waiting for the door. It never paid to be overly trusting with the A.A.H., especially with Agents 115 and 105. They always managed to cause trouble. Within seconds, both of their guns were out as well.
“It seems we’re at an impasse,” Agent 115 joked with a smile. That’s what they thought.
The door blew. A few small pieces of metal went flying, but luckily his aim was true – most of the door was still intact. The other agents stumbled away from the direction of the smoking door, but Tommy jumped towards it, kicking what was left of it in.
“T-” whichever one of them was speaking cut off with a small cough. “Agent 21, wait!”
He considered tossing a teasing reply back at them, but he didn’t have time. He had to get to that crystal before they got their wits about them (and apparently, their lungs – it really wasn’t that much smoke).
Still, a small smirk graced his face.
-
“Agents, what can I do for you?” Tommy asked dryly.
The two men startled just slightly, before whipping around to face him. Smiles lit up their faces – yugh, they were unbearable.
“Agent!” Agent 105 greeted. “We’re just browsing. How are you this fine afternoon?”
“It’s 9 P.M.”
“And?” asked Agent 115.
Tommy raised an eyebrow. “I’d be better if you weren’t trying to steal my score, again.”
“There’s no way we didn’t get our assignment first,” Agent 115 argued. “Tw-” Agent 105 elbowed him in the side.
“I probably shouldn’t tell you that,” the former finished. Tommy fought back a smile. If he had to have nemeses, at least they were kind of idiots (and just a little funny, but you’d never catch him admitting that). It certainly helped make up for the annoyance they caused while trying to do his job.
“Step away from the computers,” he said, serious now. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
That wasn’t entirely true; he did want to punch them sometimes, and– well, oddly enough, that was about it. Nothing else. The thought made something deep inside his brain squirm, which was decidedly not comfortable, so he brushed it aside. He couldn’t be distracted while in the field, even just for a split second. He refocused on the agents in front of him. 
And they—they had a look, something between wan and heartbroken. Tommy frowned just slightly.
“We know,” Agent 105 said softly.
What?
But then smiles slid back onto their faces, eyes shuttered, and the moment was gone. That was also decidedly uncomfortable.
“How kind of you,” Agent 115 said cheerily.
“But, we’re just about done here,” Agent 105 completed. “So–”
Tommy drew his gun and shot one of the laptops they had set up. Both A.A.H. Agents jumped and ducked away from the shrapnel.
“Seriously?” complained Agent 115.
“Couldn’t let you get away with everything,” Tommy replied, gun trained on them.
Before anyone else could speak, the other agents’ watches started blinking. They both glanced down (now, now, he could take them out right now), then looked back up at him. There was something in Agent 115’s eyes as Agent 105 started collecting their other equipment.
“Well, looks like our visit’s going to have to be cut short,” 115 said with a fake frown. The smile quickly took over his face again as Agent 105 tapped him on the shoulder, equipment packed up.
Agent 115 nodded to 105, then to Tommy. He grabbed a rope that was laying on the floor, leading to– the window. Of course. The other end was attached to the sill. With a mock salute, he jumped out the window.
“It’s been a pleasure,” Agent 105 said, before following his partner.
Tommy lowered his gun and sighed. That uncomfortable moment was still sitting in his shoulders, tension he hadn’t yet shaken. But he could still get at least some information from this mission. He holstered his gun and started plugging his own devices into the computers, trying to roll out his shoulders as he did.
But somewhere deep in his chest, past the harsh feeling, some part of him couldn’t help but feel comforted.
-
“I just keep running into them on missions,” complained Tommy. “It’s like we have a rivalry that I don’t know about!”
Lucy laughed. “Do you know how many people would kill for a nemesis, let alone two?”
Tommy rolled his eyes and picked at his salad. It was dumb.
Lucy closed the cupboard and turned back to him as she set her plate on the counter. She started dishing herself lasagna as she spoke.
“And look at you. Here you are, complaining about them. They’ve been your rivals for a while now.”
And they. They had—
“Okay, sure,” Tommy acknowledged. “But it still feels like they’re way more invested in it than I am.”
Lucy shrugged, rolling the foil back over the pan.
“I think A.A.H. agents are just extra like that,” she said as she put the lasagna back in the oven.
“Maybe,” he said noncommittally.
“What does A.A.H. even stand for?” asked Melton, entering the kitchen. There was a coffee cup in his hand and a tired look on his face – which made sense, given that Tommy was pretty sure he’d just gotten off of a 24 hour stakeout.
“It doesn’t stand for anything,” Lucy answered, sounding exasperated. Tommy hid a smile. Melton had definitely asked this before (though again: 24 hour stakeout). “It’s a designation number.”
“Ohh, right,” Melton said. A look of understanding lit up his face, and then something more sheepish. “I’ve asked that like, four times, haven’t I?”
“Six,” Tommy cut in as he stabbed a few pieces of lettuce. He ducked the coffee packet that went soaring at him with a laugh.
“In my defense, I’m always the one on stakeouts,” Melton said with mock-offense. Probably.
“Not our fault the boss hates you,” Lucy joked, taking a seat at the edge of the island.
“Hey, I like stakeouts! At least I’m not diffusing bombs all the time. It’s like they want you to blow up,” shot back the other man.
Tommy just watched as the other two bickered, smiling into his salad.
-
Tommy swung his gun to 115.
“There’s no need for us to be stupid about this,” the other man said.
“I’m not the one who said ‘Hey, wouldn’t it be a good idea to call the police?!’” Tommy practically shouted.
“Okay, well– ah, yes. But,” 115 stuttered.
Tommy switched his aim back to 105, and he could see both of their guns shift slightly.
“I didn’t do it on purpose,” 115 finished exasperatedly.
“But you did do it.”
“You’re on his side?”
Tommy let them argue for a moment as he tried to figure out a way out of this. They couldn’t have more than 5 minutes before the police got here, and they couldn’t stand here in a stalemate forever. It would take at least 2 of those to even get out of the building, let alone find the ID he was looking for. He growled in frustration.
“You triggered the alarm,” he interrupted, gun swinging back to 115. They stopped arguing to retrain their weapons on him and he rolled his eyes.
“Only because he pushed me,” 115 said. Tommy went back to 105, and they followed him.
“To keep you from hitting your head on the fire extinguisher!” 105 shot back. Tommy switched again. They followed.
“How are any of us supposed to do this now?” Tommy said, and turned his gun back on 105. 115 and 105 turned their guns towards each other.
Tommy blinked.
“Wait,” 115 said.
Tommy started laughing, the stress combining with the absurdity of the situation.
“Okay, okay, stop!” 105 shouted. “We’re not getting anywhere like this. Can we all just put our guns away?”
Still laughing, Tommy clipped his gun back into its holster. He paused, surprised. Not only was he laughing, he actually put his gun down. Just because 105 said so. Hm. He didn’t like that.
Tommy cleared his throat and composed his face again. The other two sighed as they holstered their own weapons.
“Now,” 105 continued. “We have–” he moved to check his watch, but 115 interrupted with “Four”.
“--Four minutes before the police get here,” finished 105.
“Not enough time to get the folder,” 115 added.
“So you’re proposing we. . .” Tommy trailed off. Wait. What? He was sent to get the ID of an employee in this building.
“The folder?” he asked.
Both agents turned to him, confused looks on their faces. “Yeah?” 115 said. It took another second for them to both freeze.
“You’re here for something else?” 105 asked. His face was pale, his eyes were wide.
Tommy shouldn’t have said anything. He could’ve let them believe he was here for whatever the folder was and they wouldn’t suspect anything with the ID. But, it did tell him that they had no idea he was looking for something else. Which meant that the A.A.H. was farther off than they had thought.
“It doesn’t matter. We need to get out of here,” he said brusquely. “No one’s getting what they want.”
115 and 105 were still looking at him as he made sure all of his equipment was secure. There was something in their eyes again.
“What?” Tommy asked gruffly.
There was a moment of silence where they were just staring at each other. The alarm had stopped ringing shortly after 115 triggered it, and without their voices there was nothing but the hum of the air conditioning. No one moved.
Distantly, sirens faded in. Tommy shook himself out of the staring contest, and Agent 105 spoke.
“Nothing,” he said, just softer than a normal speaking volume.
Tommy didn’t have time to figure that out. He turned, offering an annoyed half wave to the other agents, and started running back the way he came. Luckily, they’d gotten in different ways. Their paths collided in that room, but otherwise, they didn’t cross. He could just get out of here. And, luckily, two more lefts and he was.
He skidded around the second to last corner, ready to– camera. It took a few more steps to come to a stop, but by the time he had, his gun was out. Crack. Luckily, his silencer was on, so it was more of a slap than a full volume gun shot. The camera flopped, attached to its body by a straining handful of wires. Tommy didn’t even bother putting his gun away before he started running again. It took him a few tries while running and not looking at it, but he managed to get it clipped back into place as he made the last turn.
Right before his hand was on the fire escape door, another alarm started blaring. It sounded different from the one 115 had triggered (which still had blinking red lights going off along the top of the wall every few yards). Uh oh. Tommy swore he could hear footsteps and yelling, but he was so far from the main entrance it probably wasn’t possible. Ignoring it, he pushed open the fire escape (he’d cut the alarm wires on his way in) and burst out into the sunlight.
-
Lucy kicked the burnt. . . something lightly. Tommy thought it looked like a computer, but he honestly wasn’t sure.
The place was crawling with B.A.G. agents. Floodlights were being set up, items were being bagged, burnt and crushed items were being studied. It was a flurry of activity, but Tommy could still see what happened here.
“This was definitely them,” he said. Lucy looked up from the wreckage in front of her.
“Who?” she asked with a small frown.
“Agent 115 and 105,” Tommy answered, crossing his arms. He nodded towards the pile of burnt items. “I’ve seen them do that.”
Lucy blinked at him. What?
Eventually, she said: “Okay, Mr. Nemesis. I don’t even know how they would’ve done this, though.”
“They have an explosive that reacts to the coolant inside computers,” Tommy supplied immediately.
How did he know that?
Lucy stared at him again.
“How do you know that?” she asked incredulously.
The question of the hour. Had they mentioned it? Had he seen plans for it, even on a mission they weren’t on? He– Tommy had no idea.
He swallowed. “I heard them mention it.”
Lucy snorted as she looked back down at the (presumably electronic) remains.
“Your nemeses have big mouths,” she said.
Yeah, sure. He was pretty sure he was the one with the big mouth.
“They were gloating,” Tommy answered numbly.
“I guess. Still kind of dumb,” the other agent said. She shrugged. “But, it doesn’t matter. It’ll all get tested and we’ll figure it out. We’re B.A.G.”
Maybe it would be better if they didn’t. Then it wouldn’t prove Tommy right.
Tommy nodded, but couldn’t get his vocal cords to work.
Lucy walked away towards a group of lab techs, and Tommy just stared after her.
-
“Can you pass me the blue?”
Tommy smiled. He always used blue, in any craft.
“Here,” he said, just a hint of teasing in his voice. There was a small laugh from behind him, and Evan rolled his eyes.
“You two need to stop ganging up on me,” he said with mock annoyance.
Tommy has to physically restrain himself from making an innuendo as he turns back to his own work. Evan does take the blue, though.
“Never will,” Eddie responds. “You’re stuck with us.”
“Yep,” Tommy confirms, glancing back at Evan. The love in the other man’s eyes nearly takes his breath away. Even through the joking, and even after this long, it still leaves him speechless.
“Good,” Evan says after a moment, a smile on his face.
Tommy woke up to darkness and a beating heart. 
It felt like the wind had been knocked out of him, like the time he fell out of a second story window. There was a memory, of stark clarity and yet impossible to describe. A dream. Of a—a house, or a kitchen, or maybe just a weird realm of light. And something in his hands. A mix between a paintbrush and a pen, and maybe sandpaper. There was a person to his left, that he couldn’t see, and a person to his right, that was—Lucy, maybe. Or Derrick from accounting, or an A.A.H. agent he met once, or a mix of all three. And his chest was on fire but his hands were freezing. It didn’t make any sense.
But now his chest was tight. His shoulders too. There was sweat on his back, and his legs, and it was too warm and that must’ve been a nightmare, because he now felt terrified. There was a pinprick ache in his temples, like he was grinding his teeth.
And nothing made sense.
12 notes · View notes