#sorry for making it angsty at the end

[steddiehyperfixation]

how to stay with you (steddie ficlet)

written for @steddieangstyaugust day 29: future, and also inspired by this post i saw ages ago

1474 words | rated t | cw: unhappy ending

When Steve and Eddie first got together, they had been young and in love and that’s all that had mattered. At 19 and 20 the realities of the future seemed so far away, so caught up in each other in each present moment that it almost felt like they would never grow up, like time would never pass and they would never have anything to worry about. Conversations of ‘what ifs’ and potential issues were brushed aside, anything that wasn’t an immediate problem dismissed with a kiss and a carefree “we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.” There was no need for premature concern when surely nothing would ever be so big as to come between them. Because they were it for each other, weren’t they? They were forever, and forever seemed so easy when forever was young.

But the time did pass and they did grow up, and now the bridges they thought they’d never come to are looming before them, fast approaching.

At 25 and 26, they sit at the dinner table in the one-bedroom apartment they’ve lived in for years and Eddie tells Steve about the life-changing phone call he just received. The Hollywood music producer he’s been in sporadic contact with finally wants to finalize a plan and work with Eddie’s band officially, and Eddie is so excited he’s practically vibrating as he rambles to Steve about the album he’ll make and the tours he might go on and how they’re gonna have to start looking for places in LA soon because they have to be local and the producer wants to get started on this by the end of next month. He expects Steve to be excited too, to match his grin and maybe hold hands and bounce around the kitchen with him, but his boyfriend’s expression only falls further and further into a frown with every word Eddie speaks.

“Eddie-” Steve interrupts him, his voice far too serious. “I don’t want to move to LA.”

Eddie’s buzzing energy freezes, stopping short. “What?”

Steve repeats, “I don’t want to move to LA.”

“But-” Eddie frowns. “I was always going to move to LA, that was always my plan. You knew that.”

“Yeah, I-I know. But we always said we’d just cross that bridge when we came to it.”

“Well, we’re coming to it now. So, why don’t you want to move?”

“I don’t want to uproot our life here. And I don’t want to end up having to wait around in a strange city while you’re off on tours all the time.”

“You wouldn’t, you’d come with me.”

Steve shakes his head. “I can’t live like that. And what about when we have kids? That’s no way to-”

“Wait, Steve-” It’s Eddie’s turn to interrupt, all trace of his previous excitement gone, having dropped like a stone into his gut instead. “I don’t want kids. Like, ever.”

Something fractures in Steve’s eyes as he stares at him, almost hurt. “What? Why did you never say anything? You knew- I’ve always wanted kids, Eddie, you’ve always known that.”

“Yeah, I know, I just-” Eddie’s mouth feels too dry and his tongue too heavy as he wets his lips and shrugs guiltily. “I mean, we always said we’d just cr-”

“-cross that bridge when we came to it, yeah,” Steve sighs, a dejected sort of exhale that slouches in his shoulder as if the full weight of this conversation has suddenly settled upon them.

Eddie feels it too, feels them sinking somewhere they can’t come back from. “Is that, uh- is that a dealbreaker for you?”

“Kind of, yeah,” Steve admits, and he looks at Eddie like it devastates him to do so, emotion swimming in his eyes and straining his voice. “Is me not wanting to move to LA a dealbreaker for you?”

Eddie swallows thickly. “Kind of, yeah.”

“Would you ever change your mind?” Steve asks, a last ditch hope. “About kids, or any of it?”

“No,” Eddie says; though he hates to watch the last of the light drain from Steve’s face, he can’t lie to him. “Would you?”

“No,” Steve answers in a barely managed whisper.

Eddie takes a deep breath, and it shakes. His vision blurs. He says, “Then this isn’t going to work, is it?”

Steve stares at him with glassy eyes, like he’s watching Eddie become a ghost right in front of him. His voice breaks as he speaks, “You mean we’re not going to work.”

“Yeah…” Eddie confirms, and it shatters his heart. “I’m so sorry, Stevie.” He reaches for Steve’s hands across the table. “I love you more than anything, I really do, but I won’t give up on my dream, and I can’t ask you to give up on yours either.”

“No you’re right.” Steve breath shudders. His eyes fall to their joined hands and he blinks rapidly, the way he does when he’s trying hard not to cry. He squeezes Eddie’s hands tight, desperate for something to hold on to even as he agrees, “We want different things, incompatible things. I don’t want to hold you back.”

“Exactly…I don’t want to hold you back,” Eddie echoes in barely more than a whisper, afraid if he tries to speak any louder he’ll break into tears.

Steve does break then, a sob escaping from his throat as if it’d clawed its way free, tears spilling from his eyes. Such a cry activates an instinct in Eddie that sends him leaping to his feet and pulling Steve into a hug within seconds.

“I’m so sorry,” he says again. His chest aches and he really wishes this wasn’t happening, hates that he knows that it has to.

“Me too,” Steve manages, head buried in Eddie’s shoulder. There’s no bitterness in it, only heavy acceptance. He knows it too.

They both know there’s no solving this, no compromise they could find that wouldn’t inevitably fester into resentment and regret. Because Steve wants to settle down and Eddie wants to fly - but Eddie isn’t built for the ground, nor is Steve for the sky, and there’s no common place left between them where they could both survive. It’s over.

So they mourn together while they still have each other to take comfort in, clinging tight to what they’re losing, just one last time. Eddie's crying now too, his tears streaming silently down his cheeks in counterbalance to Steve’s sniffly mumbling.

“I don't want to lose you,” Steve mutters. “Are you sure? Are you sure?”

And Eddie cries quietly into the crook of his neck that he doesn't want to lose him either, and he's sorry, so sorry.

When the worst of their sobs subside, they reach the bargaining stage of their grief, and they pull apart just enough to talk properly while still holding onto each other. Eddie swears he'll keep in touch, says he still wants to be a part of Steve's life. Steve makes him promise to send him postcards of all the amazing places he'll go to on tours and to invite him to shows whenever he's nearby. Eddie tells him to invite him to the wedding when - when, he emphasizes as Steve starts to shake his head - Steve falls in love again and finds someone who can give him the life he wants.

At that, Steve sniffles out a laugh, wet and humorless. “That would be cruel,” he says.

“I never said I’d actually show up,” Eddie clarifies, giving an equally complicated smile and bringing a hand up to cup his cheek. “I just want to know. I want to know that you're happy, even if it can't be with me.”

Steve closes his eyes - another tear or two leaks out - and turns his face into Eddie's hand. In a whisper, he agrees, “Okay.”

They decide it would be best for Eddie to leave as soon as possible. Since they've already concluded they won't last, there's no reason for them to stay in the same apartment even just one more night. It would only hurt more in the end.

With a sort of dissociated detachment, Eddie packs up his things, separating his life from Steve’s one piece of clothing and decorations at a time. It's all he can do not to start crying again.

As Eddie turns to leave for the last time, Steve grabs his arm, impulsive, desperate, and begs him for one more kiss. So Eddie turns around and indulges him. He tastes the salt of their tears on their lips, clutching at Steve's waist and tangling a hand in his hair as they both kiss each other like they know they never will again. Eddie savors every bitter taste, memorizes every sweet feeling.

And then they’re out of time and Eddie's out the door, his whole future ahead of him and his heart cracked right in half.

[kissatoru]

hey… it’s the reiner anon teehee 🤭 love love LOVED the head drabble URGGDHDGSHDG he’s so baby girl !!!

now i can’t get popping virgin!reiner’s cherry out of my mind 😵‍💫 his poor cock just cumming and cumming all over again because u just feel so good

omg heyyyy, nice to have you backk!! i’m glad you liked it hehe<3

he would be so embarrassed and overwhelmed and cuuuute, precious boy wouldn’t know what to do with himself! i just have this picture of him clinging to you, all shivering and panting and groaning, unable to comprehend how it can feel this good. he’s honestly so emotional too, with unshed tears making his hazel eyes and sandy blond lashes all wet and droopy, because you just take care of him so well!! and show and do these wonderful things to him he’s never experienced before!! and he’s scared but he loves and trusts you, there’s no one else he’d rather do this with!! and at some point those tears can’t sit back any longer, they slip down his cheeks. he doesn’t cry often, not as much as he used to, but with you, it’s never felt safer to do so<3

[glitteredbubbles]

A little excerpt from the overly angsty Anderperry oneshot I’m currently working on where Neil and Todd never see each other after Neil’s shipped away for military/medical school until they accidentally run into each other way later (Todd’s a semi-famous poet in it as well):

“I’ve read your poetry, you know,” Neil admits casually after a few beats of silence, as if he’s discussing the weather and not revealing earth-shattering information, while his eyes remain trained on the football game playing in the corner of the bar. Todd knew that he didn’t give a shit about sports, but then again, that was Neil from over twenty years ago, a boy long gone save for the soft brown eyes the man next to him still wore.

Did he know? Could he see right through all of Todd’s poetry, see all of his desperate clinging onto his glory days which were limited to five brief months because of his disappearance? Todd almost wants to lunge at him, wants to throttle this boy-turned-man for getting to know all of the agonies which traced his mind while he was stuck in this dingy bar still not even being able to tell if a smirk or frown was pulling at Neil’s lips.

Of course he doesn’t lunge — when has Todd lunged for anything in his life? — just struggles to not choke on his spit while he manages to rasp out a simple “yeah?” as if it’s a full question. This will be the death of him, he’s decided.

[keydekyie]

"You’ve seen the very worst of me, and you’re still here, and I don’t know why. And it scares me so much, not just because I’m afraid you’ll realize what I am, and that I’m not worth it, but because… because now I’m afraid you won’t."

[teapot-of-tyrahn]

MARTYN'S EXPRESSION GETS ME. litlerally live slug reaction.

[headfullof-ideas]

Some more headcanon-drawings…things…i have doodles

I actually had these done for a while now, just…never posted them. Idk why. Im trying to get some drawing done today, though for whichever project it’s for, I don’t know

[spoopy-nevermore-dump]

Hey pssst hey. Have you ever considered: Montada?

I hate it, and it nearly killed my hyperfixation

But I understand my opinion on this may affect others, and many may be hurting from this episode soooooooooo

Art requests open

[whattraintracks]

28. Broken Vase - TMNT 2012

Little Raph goes out with a crash.

Mikey looks up from his comic at the sound of a crash. Little Raph runs into his bedroom a moment later, and Mikey's just thrilled the tiny troublemaker came to him first. He beckons Raph to his lap, where the kid tucks inside his shell. With a blanket and some adjustment, the lump looks just like a pillow. Mikey snickers, practicing his innocent face for whoever inevitably comes looking for their mini maestro of mischief.

Seriously, five-year-old Raph is the prince of pranks. The same sweet face and small form that nobody suspects make him the perfect accomplice. Mikey had no idea Raph was so devious. He actually has to reign in some of the kid's ideas. Even then, they've gone through more water balloons, silly string, and air horns in the last couple of weeks than Mikey does in a few months. The guys are still setting off bang snaps around the lair.

Pranks or no pranks, Mikey loves getting to spend so much time with Raph. He and Donnie were thick as thieves when they were all little, and these days Leo's his best friend whenever they're not fighting, so it makes Mikey pretty happy that, right now, he's kid Raph's go-to brother. The others will joke about Mikey being easy to get along with because he's the most childlike, yadda yadda yadda. But you know what! Maybe that's not such a bad thing. What's wrong with dressing up, and playing pretend, and arts and crafts and coloring? Is it just 'cause they're a little older now? Mikey couldn't care less. It makes him happy, it makes Raph happy, and that's all that matters.

He gives Raph's shell a little rat-a-tat-tat and settles back to read. He doesn’t get very deep into his stack when he realises two things. First, no one's come calling for Raph. Second, his lapful of turtle is shaking pretty hard, and it's not with giggles.

He lifts a corner of the blanket. "You good, little man?" 

The only answer is a hiccupy sob.

"Aw, buddy,” he winces.

Sometimes Raph's deviousness comes back to bite him. One of their early pranks caught Leo on a bad day. Leo got really startled and almost started embarrassed-crying, and then Raph was devastated and started actual-crying, and it just went downhill from there. So Mikey's been trying to keep their antics harmless and random.

"No one's come looking for you. They can't be too mad," he assures.

Raph just keeps crying. Mikey’s debating if he should ride it out when he has a brief flash of panic. Mentally shaking himself for not checking sooner, he asks, "Are you hurt?"

More sniffles.

"Hamato Raphael," he says in his best impression of Leo's leader voice, "Are you hurt?"

Finally, a thin, watery voice replies, "No." 

"Okay,” he heaves a sigh of relief. “Okay, that's good, little dude." That took years off his life. No wonder Leo acts so old; Master Splinter must feel ancient.

He slumps against the headboard, tugging Raph a little closer. "No worries, you can chill with big bro Mikey until you feel better. I won't let anyone bother you."

Since Raph usually settles down with snuggles, Mikey returns to his comics, mostly at ease. Sure enough, the quaking and sad noises stop by the time he finishes his last one. Oh, hey, it's probably close to nap time.

"What should we make for your pre-nap snack, kiddo?" he asks cheerfully.

No response.

He repeats Raph's name a few times. Poking him gets nothing, too, so Mikey assumes the micro turtle fell asleep. Oh well, there’s no point in waking him now that he’s out. Someone'll feed him when he wakes up hangry.

With nothing to do and pretty hungry himself, Mikey uses his rad ninja skills to slide Raph to the bed—oh, ouch, numb legs, very numb legs—and wobbles out to find some food. Good old 'out of sight, out of mind' takes over, and Mikey promptly forgets about all things Raphael for the next three hours.

He's having a dinner-making-jam-sesh in the kitchen when Leo peeks in to ask, “Have you seen Raph?”

"Hmm?" He tugs an earbud down. "No, not since I left him to nap in my room."

"In your room?" Leo echoes.

"Yep," Mikey pops the p with a smile, "'Cause I'm obviously little Raph's favorite big brother." But Leo doesn't take the bait. He just furrows his brow and heads back the way he came.

Something pings in the back of Mikey's head. An annoying noise he figures is the universe telling him this is important. So he tosses everything into the slow cooker and races after Leo. Mikey follows soft murmuring to his bedroom, where Leo's crouched beside Raph still tucked in, still in his shell. His big brother rubs a gentle hand across the turtle tot's carapace. Raph hasn't moved an inch since Mikey left, and it fills him with anxiety. The little guy's not moving, not making any noise, he can't even tell if he's breathing.

"Little brother," Leo croons, "will you come out and tell me what's wrong?"

Mikey thanks everything for the gasping, whiny sob that echoes out. Leo catches him with a free hand as he stumbles to the foot of the bed.

No amount of coaxing or bribery draws Raph out, so Leo picks him up and motions Mikey toward the dojo. Right. Getting an adult is absolutely the call in this situation.

They trek to the dojo, picking up a fretting Donnie along the way. Bowing as they enter, Mikey's faintly impressed Leo can manage the correct angle with Raph in his arms and without falling over. Master Splinter is kneeling beside a pile of ceramic shards. After a quick rewind, his brain finds the audio of the crash that started this whole thing. His eyes catch on the dusty robe and an old repair kit, and he wonders if Sensei went to the storage room between then and now.

Furry ears flick in acknowledgment. "Sit, my sons."

Mikey's heart twists when Raph's breath hitches. Leo must notice, too. He kneels to face Master Splinter but doesn't let the little turtle go, arms bundling him tighter. Mikey and Donnie kneel on either side of them, and it feels like falling into rank.

Master Splinter watches them settle from the corner of his eye.

"When Raphael was quite young," he pauses, snout twitching, "the first time, that is—he broke this bowl in a fit of anger." He gestures at the dish before him. It's a beautiful gold-veined thing, and it takes Mikey a minute to notice the original interrupted pattern beneath.

Sensei's voice sharpens subtly, "What have I taught you of kintsugi."

Mikey and his brothers recite the old lesson with practiced ease. They could probably repeat Sensei's cultural lessons word-for-word in their sleep, dreaming about a heritage that can never be theirs. Mikey stumbles over his words only when Raph finally pops out of his shell, rubbing at his eyes and curling against Leo.

Sensei nods approvingly. "Things broken in anger can never be fully restored, but they can be made functional again."

He looks directly at Raph, "Tomorrow, you will aid me in mending this vase you have broken, an active meditation on the consequences of your anger. Do you understand?"

Raph bobs his head miserably. Mikey has just enough time to think, that's it?, before Sensei dismisses all four of them.

That evening, Raph hardly says a word. He's not moping, just quiet, reserved, like he's trying to avoid attention. Mikey's heart breaks when even his best jokes and silliest faces can't bring out the smile that usually comes so easy to his little brother. The three elder turtles wordlessly agree to tag team bedtime, and Mikey feels a little better knowing Raph went to bed with big hugs from each of them.

Then, just like that, it’s over. Donnie cracks the reaging agent, and Raph is back in all his slightly-taller-than-Mikey glory before lunch. And it’s great! It’s Raph whole and himself and 100% back to normal, and he predictably insists they forget the little thing ever happened.

Except Mikey can't. Can't stop thinking about how crappy little Raph's last full day with them was and that it's kind of maybe his fault for not noticing it sooner. He dreams that night of a little big brother with golden veins but broken eyes and that no matter how tight he hugs that tiny turtle, his pieces just won't stay together.

He wakes with a shout that gathers all his big brothers. He lunges teary-eyed at Raph—normal-sized, too big to wrap his arms around Raph—babbling half-formed apologies. Leo and Donnie join the hug, and Raph is pressed in from three sides. Mikey prays that will always be enough to mend whatever tries to break him.

[morethanwonderful]

One of the things I think of a lot with regards to John is—why didn't he have any friends in his real life?

None of the beta kids ever seem to mention having irl friends that they miss in the aftermath of the apocalypse. And yeah, they've got a lot of other stuff going on, and it's not really in the narrative's nature to bring up people not somehow involved with sburb, but on a watsonian level, if any of them had other friends that died in sburb's aftermath, you'd think they'd say something about that grief at some point.

It's relatively easy to explain away the other beta kids' friendlessness. Jade lives alone on an island, Dave is Dave (raised in an extremely weird way that does not make him well-suited for regular life), and Rose's mom is strange and rich enough that Rose probably goes to some shitty private school or has an online tutor or something.

But John is such a public school-type kid through and through. He's just some guy. But the more I think about him, the more I'm thinking about why he must not have any friends. He canonically spends most of his time online.

He's into (poorly) coding, shitty movies, online games, and magic tricks, none of which are a particular recipe for popularity—especially not as a twelve year old in 2009. He also has a peanut allergy.

Unfortunately, that's also probably a social strike against him. Schools are historically really bad at dealing with kids with severe allergies. There's decent odds John was eating alone and isolated at an "allergy table."

Overall, he's kind of made for being a run of the mill social outcast. He's not Dave levels of weird, and he might not be horribly bullied, but he absolutely strikes me as the few to no friends sort in a really painfully mundane way. He's just some dweeb. He's painfully sincere and enthusiastic most of the time, yet clearly has some self-hatred issues deep down that he doesn't like to think about.

He likes unpopular things and lives his life online. And pre sburb, at least his online life seems happy! He has good friends! But I can't help but wonder what his hours not at his computer screen were like. It's hard being twelve years old and goofy and awkward and friendless.

All those deeply repressed internalized thoughts about how lame he is have to come from somewhere, y'know?

[chirpsythismorning]

☎️🎲 🤼‍♂️ ✈️🚪 ➡️ 🫀🎮⌛️

The Promise by When In Rome

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[12romy]

Hi I know this I cheeky…but I failed my driving test and have had food poisoning this week. Is there anyway I could ask for a little Chewis prompt to be written? ANYTHING you like? It would cheer me up so much!

Hi darling!!! It's no problem at all, don't hesitate to ask! It always makes me happy to write prompts, and never hesitate to ask for specific stuff, too, if you want to!

I'm sorry you had such a back week, I hope you're feeling better... And I'm sure you'll pass your driving test next time!

I didn't really know what to write so, this is in the change of habits verse, end of season 2023! No real plot, just a fluffy slice of life ahah

Charles steps inside the silent house, dropping his bag and suitcase in the hall, and goes to faceplant on the couch as soon as he's out of his shoes and coat.

The season is finally over, thank god. Of course, he'll have to go back to Maranello, soon. Back to work, back to a shitty car and a shitty team. He'd rather not think about it right now.

He's tired. He hates himself for wishing he were in another team next year.

He doesn't know how long he stays on the couch, brooding, but soon enough the door opens. He perks up immediately, like an eager puppy when his owner gets back.

He rushes to the door, and literally throws himself in Lewis' arms. His boyfriend catches him, dropping bag and suitcase to do so, and makes them spin as Charles wraps his legs around his waist.

"I missed you!" Charles exclaims. He tries to kiss Lewis, but aims wrong because of the motion, and only catches the corner of his lips. Lewis stops spinning them around, and allows Charles to kiss him properly.

"It's been three days, darling," he chuckles.

"We've seen each other from afar in the paddock, it doesn't count," Charles pouts. "We didn't have any time for ourselves since Vegas!"

"I did miss this," Lewis nods, kissing him again before putting him down - or rather, tries to. Charles doesn't want to let go, and Lewis giggles at the way he's gripping onto him. "Fine, fine, I get the message, we're gonna cuddle. Can I just take my shoes off, first?"

"Fine," Charles agrees, sulking a little as he lets go of Lewis.

"How about we take a shower before cuddling? I smell like sweat and the inside of the airplane, not the best combo," Lewis suggest, and Charles has to admit he has a point.

"We can take a bath, instead," he offers. "That way we can get clean and cuddle at the same time."

Lewis has always been a pro at self-care, and so he draws them a warm bath, adding all sorts of products in it - all 100% plant based and organic - that smell amazing. He also lights up candles and incense sticks, and even adds actual rose petals to the water. Charles has no idea where they come from.

In the meantime, Charles prepares them some snack. Nothing too grand, just some fresh fruits and an assortment of dry nuts. He then puts on some jazz, a kind of music neither of them listens to much except when taking baths, and they settle in the tub. Lewis is resting his back against him and his head is on his shoulder, which allows Charles to wrap his arms around him.

The next couple of hours, after the bath, are used to undo each of Lewis' braids while distractingly watching a movie.

Charles realises Lewis fell asleep once he's finished, and smiles to himself. He manages to take a selfie with Lewis sleeping against him, and make it his new wallpaper.

He wonders what to do, then. Whether he should get up to make dinner, or maybe wake Lewis up.

He decides to do neither. He stays right there, half-sitting-half-laying on the bed, with Lewis pressed against him. They both could use the rest. They'll figure out dinner later.

He thinks distantly that going back to the factory will be even more painful, since it means leaving all this behind.

Better not to think about it, he still has a few of weeks in front of him. They're going to celebrate Christmas with their families, first in Monaco then in England. After that, they're going to America for the new year, before coming back home for Lewis' birthday.

He should look forward to it. So why can't he stop the anxiety rising in him at the thought of going back to Maranello?

Lewis makes a small noise in his sleep, and Charles is pulled out of his own mind immediately. Right. Lewis is here, with him. As long as they'll be together, he will be fine.

He can face anything.

[fangirlanxiety74]

I feel like this would be nice to know! Whether you’re a slug or otherwise, your partner loves you a lot.

... Sigh.

It is nice to know. It's one of the only things I can still remember, even after all of these years since... Well. (Has it even been years? I don't know.)

Though, I can't remember her face anymore. I can't remember anyone's faces, really. It's been too long since I've seen them. Sometimes, AM will give me dreams. He will make me relive that moment I killed them, over and over. And for a moment, I remember what it felt like. Blood staining my hands. The ice burning into my skin. The way she held onto me, even as she left me.

But I can never remember their faces. He won't allow that.

...

It's a wonder I can still remember them at all. Maybe that's part of his torment as well. That the only people I had left, are now gone. Because of me.

... Well, even so, I remember that she loved me. And as long as I can remember that, it's good enough.

I just...

I hope she knows, wherever she is, I love her too.

(OOC: Thank you for reminding me!!! I'm gonna do separate tags for Ted: If it's normal loser human him, then I'll put 'Ted Talks' but if it's the canon ending when he's a slug, I'll put 'Slug Talks.' And thank you for this ask! Tried not to cry while I wrote it sobs)

[nateslehky]

listen.... i love matthew and sasha as much as the next person, but sometimes i really do miss them

[petrichoraline]

kit said two things in episode 11 that stood out to me:

this

and this

chopper is not going to kill his dad. he is a skillful shooter, if needed he could injure kit without doing more damage than necessary. chopper will be the one to testify against his father, maybe once supakit's behind bars his son would visit him, maybe not. the point is he is not going to turn to his father's ways and will put the law above vengeance.

i dont think chopper is dying either, once he testifies he would surely face repercussions as well, i believe that would be the way he pays back his cousin and gets him to trust him again, not taking a bullet for nueng.

i also think ben would forgive him and go to jail to tell him that and they'll reconcile.

[enderwoah]

unironically im so inspired by the gemcyt au like. im about to finish my first multichapter fic? ever? like a fic that was planned from the start to be multichapter and was ended where i planned it to end? which sounds utterly insane because i have been writing fics since 2016 (and mcyt fics since october of 2020) but i really struggle with maintaining inspiration and stuff so this is incredible for me. its only gonna be 6 (probably 7) chapters and its not the longest thing on the planet but its gonna be FINISHED and that is so. impressive for me specifically. and i cant believe that its about a steven universe minecraft au but the universe works in mysterious ways ig HAHAHA

man i have been losing it over how much i've written in the past couple of weeks i finally have my inspiration back im finally DOING stuff again RAHHHH

[pwurrz]

childe always prided himself on his ability to maintain a proper, sophisticated composure. outside of battle, he was polite, respectful, formal. donning a mask of false calm had been a skill he acquired at a young age, so lessons in proper harbinger etiquette only reinforced habits he was already familiar with.

the only person who was easily able to break childe’s composure is zhongli.

the first time childe felt his mask slipping was when zhongli gave him an unexpected, heartfelt compliment. a simple confession of his feelings, from zhongli’s point of view. he admitted he enjoyed spending time with childe, and that childe brought joy and something to look forward to in his daily routine. how childe had become one of his dearest friends, and how he cherished that friendship.

for zhongli, he was just stating a fact. but for childe.. he felt his cheeks burning up, and for the first time in a long time he stuttered, floundering for a response while looking anywhere but in zhongli’s eyes. zhongli had laughed, not at him, but a soft, fond laugh, like he was pleased he made childe react in such a way. he made sure to say so, much to childe’s chagrin as the redness in his cheeks spread to the tips of his ears.

from that point on, childe decided it was ok if he relaxed around zhongli a bit. it was ok not to be so formal and proper all the time. zhongli was his ‘dear friend’, after all.

the second time zhongli made childe lose his composure was when he revealed he was the geo archon. when it was discovered that for the entire course of their relationship, zhongli had been lying to him. he had pretended to care for childe, pretended to befriend him, all to get childe to lower his guard. when childe found out he was nothing but a pawn to zhongli.

his heart ached and his eyes stung, self deprecating thoughts swimming frantically around in his mind. but he forced himself to push down his emotions, smothering them until he could barely feel anything. he didn’t need to embarrass himself in front of zhongli more than he already had. he could wait until he was in the privacy of his own home before breaking down.

zhongli ultimately didn’t give him the chance.

he knew it was wrong, to follow after childe and attempt to force a conversation between them so soon after his betrayal. but zhongli couldn’t stand to see childe so upset, heart hurting knowing he was the cause of childe’s pain. it was selfish, but he needed to correct his mistake, to apologize for hurting childe as soon as he could.

when he showed up on childe’s doorstep, zhongli had anticipated anger. he was prepared for yelling, for scathing words, even for childe to lash out physically.

what he wasn’t prepared for was childe’s anger quickly melting away, being replaced with round, wet eyes, shaky breaths and a quivering lip.

he definitely wasn’t prepared for tears.

“it’s kinda pathetic, isn’t it?” childe bit out, his efforts to hastily wipe his tears away and not let zhongli know he was crying in vain as his eyes quickly welled up again. “i’m supposed to be the tsarista’s fearless vanguard, but instead i got my heart broken because i fell for the cruel tricks of a god.”

no amount of desperately telling himself to keep it together could stop childe from breaking down at that moment. zhongli showing up at his door was like ripping a bandaid off a wound before it fully recovered, or pressing a fresh bruise. he couldn’t help but react to the emotions washing over him, waves of sadness and betrayal and heartbreak and embarrassment crashing into him like the waves that lap at liyue harbour.

once again, zhongli had made childe’s mask slip. once again, his words and actions had gotten under childe’s skin and made a place for themselves in childe’s heart. but unlike the first time, where his heart was full of giddiness and the shy and tender feeling of falling in love, now all childe was left with was a painful, empty feeling, and a persistent little voice that told him he should’ve expected this.