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sentientsky · 10 months

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"I forgive you." It came out like a blood clot—like an artery dripping gore—like an oil spill. Crowley felt his shoulders rise, fall, fall, fall. The air between them hummed, the tension of six thousand years turning every atom electrified and silently screaming. Breath shuddered out of him, human and terrible and hollowing. He had never been more grateful for the swallowing darkness of his glasses, for the way they hid the centuries of pre-emptive grief and wicked terror. The air was suffocating, the once familiar bookshop turned catacomb.

And then, hating himself for it but seeing no other way forward, he spoke the words aloud. "Don't bother". And then he was out in the middle of Soho and the breeze was harsh against his too-warm skin. Stepping out into the sun felt like rising to the surface of some great ocean—the gasping, desperate feeling in his lungs, the sudden crash of noise. A woman across the street called for her wife. A car horn. A dog barking. Laughter, cruel and far-off. He pulled breath into lungs that didn't need it, winced as he felt slivers of cold drive into the soft flesh of his throat.

So that was it; five and a half million years of want and need and burning, aching somedays, cyphered pleas for "our side". All gone in the space between shaking half-breaths and a kiss still seared against his lips.

Fuck it.

He'd ruined it the first time, had forced them both to look directly into the sun, to face the thing they'd been dancing around for the better part of six millennia. He could do better—would do better. At a music café some years ago, a human had been playing the piano—something soft and slow. A jazz number, if the demon remembered correctly. But the remarkable thing wasn’t the song itself, but that they were playing it with their eyes closed. Aziraphale had pointed this fact out to Crowley, excitement lilting in his voice (even then, the sound had thrilled him, sent a stab of warmth through his heart). It was only after the final note reverberated through the room that the artist opened their eyes, blinking in the sudden rush of stage lights. Aziraphale, ever the music connoisseur, approached the musician. The pianist had explained that, for them, reading music never came easy. Rather, they learned by touch, by the way the keys felt on their fingertips. In fact, the only way they could play a song was with their eyes closed. If they watched their hands as they played or thought too hard about their next move, they got confused and tripped over the notes. Muscle memory, they’d said. It was muscle memory—the galactic familiarity of finding the space between seconds and prying—that guided Crowley now. He hadn’t done it since Not-Armageddon, but it came easily to him just the same. Time, you see, operates kind of like sound, like music; it loops and sways and carries forward in waves. If you know where to look (as the demon did), you can disrupt the flow, send it back towards the shore.

And this was what Crowley did now. Drawing his hands through the ripples of minutes and seconds and hours and millennia, time stilled around him. It was natural. Easy, like breathing or sleeping. Or loving Aziraphale. Slowly, the world turned backwards; humans retreating from whence they came, cars driving in reverse, the wind blowing in the opposite direction. If Heaven had taken notice of their "half-a-miracle", Crowley expected them to be able to see this from every edge of the universe. He likely only had one shot at this.

The world aligned itself once more, and time returned to its regular, steady gait—a rubber band snapping back into place. Something hummed in Crowley’s chest. Something bright and burning and the shape of a neutron star. Hands shaking, he reached for the handle of the bookshop and pushed. The bell above the door rang, clear and and too-loud in the morning air. Aziraphale whirled around, a trembling half-smile on his face. Oh. Oh, somebody, this was going to be harder than he thought. It felt like all the oxygen, all the courage, had been punched clear out of him "Crowley!" A beat, a shuddering breath. "Angel". He pressed his still-trembling hands into his pockets and strode forward. "Oh, Crowley, dear, I've been looking for you. I have excellent news." His stomach did a little flip, something deep within him growing hollow and fearful. "We have to talk," he managed to choke out around the heart still lodged in his throat. "Yes, I quite think we do. I have something to tell you." Aziraphale strode forward, all grins and beauty like a flickering star, all plasma and heat. He could practically feel the agitated warmth roll off of his angel. Crowley shivered. "I just met with the Meta—” "No. Wait," the demon held up a hand, pausing the rushing torrent of Aziraphale’s words. "Just let me say my thing, please." "My dear boy, just—oh, what is that lovely human expression—"

"Hold that thought," Crowley muttered. His eyes burned behind his glasses. Aziraphale looked pleasantly taken aback.

"Yes, how did you know? I—" "No." The angel's eyebrows crinkled in confusion. "No?" "No," he repeated, enunciating each letter with perfect clarity. He was going to do it right this time. He was going to keep him from leaving. He could be good. Right? "I’m gonna speak, and I want you to listen to me without interrupting, m'kay?" Words were building in the basin of his sternum now, pushing up on his airways. He was going to have to say it outright this time; no more waltzing around this frenzied galaxy of emotion. Willing his hands to steadiness, he pulled his glasses from his face, and tucked them into the collar of his shirt. Aziraphale's breath seemed to catch for a moment, meeting the ferocity of the demon's gaze head-on. A deer in headlights. And then, "Crowley, I really—" (Eons hurtled through his mind in a split second, the serrated knife's-edge of want like a being all its own. Aziraphale in the garden. Aziraphale in the tavern, on the cliffside, on the West End stage, in the Bentley, in the bookshop, in the very marrow of Crowley’s bones.) "I love you," he rasped, ichor writhing in his veins.

There, he'd said it., said it fully and completely, without so much as flinching. It was the same love he'd expressed for the past several thousand years in a million little, unspoken ways: an ox rib, a revolution, a church, a burning bookshop and the bottom of a glass and a lost best friend. A yellow Bentley, a lifetime of tethering his life to Aziraphale's, of trailing after him like a moth to flame—like a dog to its owner. "I love you," he pushed on. They were both looking directly into the sun again, Crowley urging them to stare straight into the heat of it all. The words were spilling out of him now, a heaving, thrashing current falling to the bookshop's hardwood floors. "I love you and you can't go to Heaven." Aziraphale froze, pupils blown wide and unblinking, for just a moment. Tension stretched out like a thread between them. And then he pulled in breath like a drowning man (who wasn't really a man at all), and tears were gathering in the corner of his eyes, and oh god, he'd made his angel cry. Fear and guilt and horror slammed into him at a million kilometers an hour and left him halfway between dizzy and nauseous. His fingers tensed at his side, desperate to do something, fix what he'd so obviously broken. Heaven would be on the front step any moment. It was too late, wasn't it? It was always too late. "Crowley—what?" Aziraphale breathed, mouth twisting into a brutal, terrible, heart-wrenching sob. Crowley ached, panic lancing through him like a knife. "I—I really, I can't. You could come with me." He stepped forward, moving to place his hands on the demon's shoulders. Crowley leaned into the touch, almost unconsciously. "Don't go," he croaked, tears beginning to prick his own eyes once again. This time he didn't reach for his glasses, didn't try to hide his fear. If he was going to do this, he was going to do it right. And then Aziraphale could hate him and his desperate, hungry, reverent love in the aftermath. "Don't go where I can't follow. Please".

His angels blue-grey eyes searched his own, and the weight of his gaze was impossibly heavy, pressing down on his chest like a river-smoothed rock. "Crowley, please. I don't understand. The Metatron said—" His palms found the sides of Crowley's throat, thumbs resting gently on the side of his jaw. Crowley sucked in a breath. "Angel," The scent of earl grey—of old books and soft tartan chairs. Aziraphale's hands were shaking. "I know what the Metatron said," he intoned, soft as rainfall. "You can't go. It's not—they won't change. You're better than that." "But you could be an angel. With me," he murmured, soft thumbs running across sharp cheekbones. "Be my second-in-command." "Don't want to be. Want t' be an us," he felt tears—traitorous, burning tears tip over the edge of his lashes and fall against his face. "Crowley, darling, please." A beat. "I love you." The bottom of the world dropped out from under him in that moment. Aziraphale loved him. He loved him and he'd said it aloud and now it was out there in the world and it was as though every nerve on his body was on fire. His angel pushed on, "Truly, I love you. I need you with me. Please, come with me. We can do good, I know it." He could never say no when his angel asked something of him. Especially not when his kind, gentle hands were holding him like something good, something precious. Especially not when Aziraphale had just admitted to needing him, had injected the word with so much warmth he thought his all-too-human heart might beat clear out of his chest. But there was a first (technically, second) time for everything. He drew in a heavy breath, and tilted his head, breaking his angel's hold on him. Aziraphale's hands—now empty, still shook. He made a soft whimpering sound, and Crowley ached to kiss his fingertips, banish the fear. But instead, he looked up towards the ceiling, to a God who was not there—who maybe had never been there at all. He felt the Heavenly Host drawing near, a sense of hollow emptiness, the scent of absence. This was the time of last-ditch efforts, of holding his heart out and hoping Aziraphale might take it as it was, bruised spots and all. "I can't. I won't. I need to be here, on Earth, with you." "Crowley, please. I don't think you understand what I'm offering you," he huffed. A residual shard of anger stabbed at him then, and he turned his gaze sharply back to the angel before him. "Oh, I understand perfectly well, angel. I'm fairly certain I understand better than you do." Aziraphale's mouth drew into a thin line, tears welling fresh in his eyes again. And still, Crowley ached. A beat. Something in the angel shifted, then, turned on its edge—the walls beginning to go up again, and it was just like it had been not fifteen minutes ago. He was watching the same moment play out over and over again; some cyclical, torrential nightmare. "I would like you to come with me, but," Aziraphale paused, voice breaking in the middle. "But I'm leaving, with or without you." And there it was, like it was predestined. Despite the love, despite the want, despite every shared bottle passed between them, every half-accidental touch and glance and whispered word—despite the way he would’ve let Aziraphale run a sword through his chest... It wasn't enough. It was never enough. They were re-enacting their old magic trick, right there in the bookshop, this time with Crowley staring down the barrel, letting Aziraphale pull the trigger. Aim for my mouth, but shoot past my ear. Aziraphale wasn't shooting past his ear. His bloody ribcage felt as though it might splinter apart. Wingbeats in the distance, a grief wide enough to drown the sea. Crowley reached down, pulled his sunglasses from their resting spot against his clavicle. And then the hunger in his eyes was once more hidden, and he was walking towards the door like a man headed to execution. "Crowley—" Aziraphale nearly keened, the wall crumbling for a split second. Without turning, Crowley said the only words he could think of. "I forgive you."

#did i steal some lines from one of my own fanfics??? yes. yes i did #because im tired and i don't want to come up with more metaphors for time warping rn. so hush <3 #good omens fanfiction #good omens angst #THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE LIKE 300 WORDS LONG #FUCK I FUCKED UP IM DEHYDRATED AND IM SUPPOSED TO BE WRITING AN ESSAY WHAT THE FUCK #idek what this is i literally have not edited one tiny little bit of this. i just came up with everything as i went along so i apologize #ignore the fact that the dialogue/pacing/ideas diverge from canon shhhhhh im too tired to look at source material #ehhh dunno how i feel ab this but whatever here's something (???)#take a shot every time i say chest or heart or ache or tremble #good omens #crowley #ineffable husbands #good omens 2 #aziraphale #aziracrow #go2 #ineffable lovers #ineffable wives #good omens season 2 #crowley angst #final fifteen #aziraphale x crowley #crowley x arizaphale #david tennant #michael sheen #ineffable divorce #good omens fic #good omens fanfic #gomens

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oreo-creampie · 11 months

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Every time my hubby wishes he was another inch longer I’m grateful he isn’t, because my god I’m feeling those seven inches beneath my belly button

#He’s the reason I know that belly bulge is real when they go hard and fast enough #it’s not all fun and games #sometimes after we are done I’m curled in a ball with a stomach ache because I shouldn’t said my say word but I was cock-notized #how can I say my safe word when I can’t even remember to speak

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cleromancy · 9 months

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sexiest and funniest thing roy harper ever did was look at dick grayson and go i could fix him

#read outsiders 2003. 🔫.#i think one of my fav things about roydick as a ship is the contrast btwn what roy like says and believes about dick vs his actions and how #he behaves with him #like its quite common for ppl in dicks life to put him on a pedestal right and he's used to it and is terrified of letting them down #but Roy who joined the og teen titans team as a full member late never like... looked to dick As A Leader the exact way the others did and+#he also didnt join the ntt until. i haven't actually reread most of ntt/new titans yet but to my recollection he's there for a hot minute+#before him and dick have their big blowout fight and he replaces dick as leader so its like #him and dick have a very unique relationship among the titans AND ALL THIS JUST TO SAY #like if you are not dick. and you ask roy how he feels about dick #the word 'perfect' is pretty likely to come up. and this is specifically the guy who is almost constantly challenging dick at every turn #aand fucking. god #roy 'everyone forgets that icarus also flew' harper #fucking setting up the entire outsiders team bc dick was so deep in that depression pit. explicitly that was For Him. that was why he did i #because he saw how much he was struggling. and then the way dick sees the same and tries clumsily but SUCCESSFULLY to return that care #ach. i love them. mfeo. b #dc #text #roydick

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keepthetension · 8 months

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still stuck on mhok's trauma, unsurprisingly. i keep thinking about the opening scenes of this show, showing us day losing his sight, and mhok losing rung. i really thought that the show would spend equal time and care on both

my first post about this show was pointing out that the first shot of day is a close up of his eyes, and the first time we see mhok, he's holding something in his mouth. and i thought it was so interesting that we see mhok gagged, because society generally doesn't care what people who've been incarcerated have to say. or poor people. and by and large, it doesn't care about the voices of traumatized people, either

and i was so curious to see what the show was going to do with that. i can't believe the show itself was never really interested in what mhok has to say

and i'm stuck on mhok's time in hawaii. the show highlighted over and over again how poor he is, and we know that he didn't like studying. what are his english skills like? we saw singha there, and i think one other thai person. was that the extent of his social circle? he seemed pretty happy to leave hawaii behind, so did he make no new friends? did he spend his days off just sitting in his room by himself, the way day did when he went to songkla with mhok?

i assume he and porjai were still in touch, but he moved abroad at a time when his ptsd was getting worse, and in the wake of a terrible breakup, and he just walked all of that off? alone???

feeling overly protective and over-responsible is absolutely an understandable trauma response for mhok, but you know what else is? losing a relationship, and feeling like you HAVE to go back and fix it, and that if you can just get a do-over, you'll be able to do everything perfectly this time, and you'll get everything right, and everything will be okay! this makes more sense to me in the final episode than the idea of mhok and day having a happily ever after does

#last twilight the series #last twilight #the thing is i don't think his healing journey had to be explicitly shown and there was plenty you could kind of infer #like going from dumping porjai so he doesn't drag her down to telling day he's done playing games and WILL ask him out at the finish line #that's a big step! it says a lot about his headspace and how he sees himself!#but i started getting nervous when PORJAI told day about rung OFFSCREEN. mhok didn't even share that himself! and it wasn't her place tbh!#lol i even kinda understood where day was coming from in ep11 because mhok never mentioned the nightmares and flashbacks and stuff #and you CAN hide that stuff from a sighted partner too ofc but it made sense that day'd wonder what else mhok could hide from him like i ge #why that'd make day feel extra vulnerable! but no somehow the breakup was ALL about pity? i still don't totally get that tbh. and all the #trauma stuff was just pushed under the rug?? and i wonder if day was pitying mhok by insisting he take the opportunity to go abroad #like: you're poor when else are you going to get an opportunity like this? i don't THINK that's what was happening but i can't unthink it #idk my heart just aches for mhok #the quadruple whammy of poverty + trauma + classism + incerceration and i thought all of that would play a bigger role #also by the way ptsd is a disability too!

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swordmaid · 1 year

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trying to sleep but this concept has taken a hold of me … thinking about jb first kiss .. but brienne initiating ! jb doing something and their close to each other. in my head jaime is wrapping her arm with bandage like his gold hand is elevating her arm, his left hand is wrapping gauze while she’s holding the roll with her unoccupied hand so he doesn’t drop it (teamwork!!!) but that seems so complicated but I like the idea of them working together on stuff like that ?? and another scenario I’m thinking of is something similar but instead of bandages jaime is sewing something up his left hand is holding the needle and thread while she’s just holding the thing he’s working on bc between the two of them I like to think jaime would be better at sewing anyway unimportant kind of but I was thinking of jb first kiss where brienne initiates … except she tries to but backs out but like comic panel where their heads are close together and he’s busy with something and she’s just looking at him .. at his lips .. he looks up catches her staring and she looks away flustered wanting to leave bc now she’s embarrassed but she can’t and he’s like ? Ok 😳

#talking about this bc I want to draw it!! but I have no energy rn ..#but what can I say I love yearning!!! bri yearning!!! in her feelings!!! and she’s looking so pained and having the worst stomach ache #known to man because she has a CRUSH. and it’s horrible. devastating even. bri being embarrassed but also can not stop #looking 👀 and watching him and she’s talk about him more if someone brings him up #and jaime is like 👀🧍‍♂️ KIND of suspects something is going on in his pov she’s the same as ever except her face is going red often #he thinks it’s from annoyance or she’s flustered at his bad jokes and she’s thinking a lot which is . not too different than usual #do not ask how much I’ve listened to kiss the girl btw idk why the tlm soundtrack has a hold on me ..

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pvremichigan · 4 months

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Whoopsie time

#vent tw #cw vent #I'm stupid to have dropped out of college #now I don't know what I'm doing and I can't do the very passion I set out to do #Animation was my dream and I ruined it for a guy who groomed me and ended up physically abusing me.#I didn't realize trying to animate and failing because I don't understand it no matter what I look up about it would result in a breakdown #Not to mention I'm regressing in my art skill right now.#My art is ASS right now no matter how hard I try to improve it #references... Practice... Doodles... Warmups you name it #nothing is going right and I have the urge to quit art altogether #I'm not going to and I can't bring myself to ever do that but It's aching inside me #I want my art to be good according to me. not others. People can say it's great but if I don't like it... I'm not going to settle for it #I shouldn't have left #I loved college #I loved SELU #I loved my life back then #And now I'm here. And I'm not happy anymore.#Even with writing. I even took a long break from writing and I still can't do it right according to myself.#Now I have no muse or motivation for any of it #I feel empty. And I can't go to therapy because I can't afford the balance on my account.#I just feel like I failed.#I feel like I failed my parents and myself. They always tell me theyre so proud of me but I don't understand how they can be.#Not when I ended up in two severely abusive relationships... Dropped out of college twice... And now work in a factory full time.#Yeah i make decent money in a place I enjoy but it all just feels empty.#I could've been more #i could've done better #[[out of ammo]];; ooc

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jils-things · 9 months

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i went wandering off in my pokespe gallery and had to relieve how wonderful this scene played out. no kidding

please dont read the tags i got emotional there /lh

#the.plot felt a bit confusing to me admittedly but oras did so well in trying to make franticshipping incredibly satisfactory since #at the end of rs we couldn't really tell if they settled with each others feelings yet (APPARENTLY NOT BECAUSE THEY'RE PRIDEFUL AND DUMB/JJ)#but at least sapphire still had some thoughts about it but i was kinda mad WHY DIDNT RUBY GIVE HIS HALF OF THE FEELINGS PROPERLY!!!#WELL THIS HAPPENED WHERE HE OPENLY CONFESSES ABOUT HOW MUCH HE CARES ABOUT HER AND THE WHOLE WORLD CELEBRATED #in r/s they were constantly separated from each other by WILL BECAUSE they despise each other so much #in oras - after confessing - it literally ACHES for ruby to not see her like take a fucking shot everytime he says wheres sapphire????#THEY WERE ALWAYS AWAY FROL EACH OTHER HERE AND HE FEELS SO GUILTY FOR EVERY TIME SAPPHIRE GETS HARMED #FOR EXAMPLE; FIGHTING WITH ZINNIA AND FALLING OFF THE ROCKET - LOSING HER VOICE - RUBY HOLDING THE SECRET FROM SAPPHIRE BY PROMISING STEVEN #LITERALLY EVERUTHING SHE DOES MAKES HIM FEEL ALL THE MORE GUILTY AND HE CANT EVEN TELL HER STRAIGHT HES SORRY BECAUSE THEY'RE LITERALLY #FUCKING AWAY FROM EACH OTHRHADHDHRHSBRBDBSHSHSHE #AND WHEN THEY FINALLU MEET UP VIA TROPIUS AND RAYQUAZA SHE TELLS HIM TO SHUT UP AND HOLD HIS EMOTIONS FOR NOW. THAT'S HOW DESPERATE HE WAS #TO SEE EHR AGAIN AHAHAHAHTDTHHGG IM SO INSANEEE #AND AT THIS MOMENT HE ALMOST EMOTIONALLY CONFESSES WITH TEARS HE DOESNT WANT TO LEAVE HER AGAIN BECAUSE WORST COMES TO WORST HE'LL NEVER SEE #HER IF HE TRIES TO SAVE THE WORLD BY HIMSELF FROM THE METEORRRRRR AKAAJAHAAJ #AND THATS WHY HE INVITES HER TO SAVE THE WORLD TOGETHER AS CORNY AS IT SOUNDS BUT ITS BECAUSE IF HE'LL DIE HE WANTS TO DIE WITH HER AAAHSGDV #AND SAPPHIRE'S REACTION WAS FAINTING WHICH TBH WAS A COMEDIC MOMENT FOR SUCH AN IMPACTFUL DIALOG FROM HIM BUT AJDHSJHDS MAKES ME HAPPY #y'all don't even get me started how this plays out when stevaide is in here DON'T EVEN #~ rambling #i just woke up and i chose violence (franticshipping)#pokespe hours

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softquietsteadylove · 8 months

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Birdie, I've got an idea for Valentine's Day! 🖤✨

Jack is asking his uncle Gilgamesh for an advice for Valentine's Day. So he and Gil are baking heart shaped cookies for their loved ones. On Valentine's Day Jack is giving his cookies to Thena because he loves his aunt very much and Phastos is complaining because he doesn't get a single heart shaped cookie.

Hugs and Love🖤✨

"Did you find out who it is?"

"No," Phastos huffed, watching from around the corner as Jack held up a decorated cookie for Gil to examine and certify. "He won't tell me."

"Perhaps it's best left alone," Ben posited from his chair, much more relaxed than his husband. "If he's not ready to tell us, he's not ready. He is only 11, habibi."

"Exactly, he's just a kid," Phastos hissed back at his partner. He looked back into the kitchen, where Jack was trying to sneak another taste of icing. At least Gil had taken seriously that Jack could not eat that much raw egg safely. He could like the cookie dough spoon, that was it. "He's too young for this."

Ben sighed, shutting his book and standing to join his husband. He slid his hand up his back gently, "well, some humans develop those kinds of feelings early. It's probably just a little crush."

"Little crush my ass," Phastos grumbled in response. He looked at Ben, "he's my kid too, and Eternals love...intensely."

Ben simply nodded, knowing very well that every bond the Eternals had tended to span thousands of years.

"Why are you spying on them?"

"F-!" Phastos sucked his lip between his teeth before he could let out a curse that would rattle even his superpowered glass windows. He glared at his sister, "T, I swear to god, okay?"

"What?" the Warrior Eternal merely blinked at him, still soft around the edges from her nap. She looked into the kitchen as well. "They seem to be enjoying themselves. What is the occasion?"

"Valentine's?" Phastos prompted, only to be met with Thena's 'statue face'. He rolled his eyes, "poor Gil, stuck with you for every damn one of 'em."

Thena pursed her lips at her brother before reaching up and pinching his side. "I will have you know, Gilgamesh prefers to take the lead on such occasions. I participate--that is enough for him."

"I'm sure it is," Ben assuaged, eager to get in between the two immortal beings who bickered like children. "Jack asked Gil for help making the cookies just after you went back to your room."

"Hm," Thena tilted her head at the scene. "Gil often makes something for this day; there is no secret to it."

"Well, this time, there was," Phastos muttered darkly, back to spying. He glared as Jack laughed and Gil patted his shoulder. Phastos turned back to Ben, "he knows I'm his dad, right? We can help him with this stuff!"

"Phastos," his husband chided instead of comforted, back to rubbing his back. "This is what it's like for kids to have uncles and aunts. They get to enjoy their company in a way that's different from ours."

"You go ask," Phastos prompted, shoving Thena away from him and in the direction of the kitchen. She glowered at him for it.

"Ask what?" she seethed at him, raising her fist to punch him in return.

Ben slid in between them again, again trying to mediate their typical family squabbles. "Who the cookies are for. He wouldn't tell when Phastos asked."

"Hm," Thena blinked, but accepted conditions. She turned away from Ben and lowered her fist, "Jack?"

Phastos kissed Ben's temple, "good save."

"Aunt Thena, you're up!" he turned in his chair, getting up on his knees and leaning against the back of it to beam at her. "Did you have a nice sleep?"

"It was lovely," she smiled down at her precious human nephew. She tilted her head, admiring the bounty behind him. "You have been making confections."

"Uncle Gil!"

"It's okay buddy, it wasn't like we were gonna be able to keep 'em secret for long," Gil chuckled as he stood from his chair. He wrapped his arm around Thena's waist, pressing his forehead to hers. "Get some rest?"

"I did," she promised her own partner and husband as he leaned in for a kiss.

"Ahem!!!"

Both Eternals parted, glaring at their agitated brother briefly. Thena looked down at Jack, who was nibbling on his little lip. "Who shall receive your hard work, Jack?"

"Well," the boy fidgeted, his expression shy. His fathers held hands behind his uncle and aunt, but Jack stood from the chair and took Thena's hand. He pulled gently, guiding her to sit where he had been. He turned the plate, on which he had arranged all the heart shaped cookies into one big heart shape. "They're for you, Aunt Thena."

Thena blinked at the platter of cookies. They were all frosted, with varying degrees of colour and skill. They were soft, white sugar cookies with red icing on them. "Me?"

"Of course," Phastos huffed behind them, but was shushed by Ben.

"Valentine's is kinda cringe, but it doesn't have to be for, like, love-stuff," Jack shrugged. "At least that's what they said at school. They said we could do something for our favourite person."

"My own son," Phastos continued to lament.

"So," Jack looked up at Gil, who nodded for him to keep going. "I asked Uncle Gil if he would help me make some cookies for you. But I cracked the eggs perfect! And I decorated all of these ones."

Thena smiled, picking up one of the more grotesque, early experiments. She took a bite, smiling as she chewed the soft, buttery cookie. "They're perfect."

"Really?" Jack lit up.

"Partake in your spoils," she said as she handed him one. "Thank you, Jack. I daresay you are my favourite as well."

"Hey Jack," Phastos inched forward as his son wolfed down one of his own cookies. "Are any of those for your old man, maybe?"

Jack just stared. "You can ask Aunt Thena."

Phastos glared at her , though. "T, remember-"

"Ben may have some."

"Oh, come on!"

Gilgamesh stood aside, laughing at Thena's innate desire to be petty with their brother. He slapped the back of Phastos' shoulder as Ben did sneak in to steal one for himself. "I mean you should've seen that coming, man."

"You guys are married," Jack gesticulated, pointing at the two couples in front of him respectively. "You got each other stuff for today, right? You don't need me to do anything."

Phastos continued to pout about how his own child made his sister cookies but none for him. But Ben smiled, "that's right, we did get each other gifts for today. It was very nice of you to make something for your Aunt Thena, Jack."

Thena moved from the chair to let Jack sit again, "but I shall need help eating all these. Jack, if you would be so kind...?"

"Sure!" It didn't take much to convince him.

Ben led Phastos into the living room to nurse his wounds, while Gil pulled Thena to his side again, further up the table. She sighed as he pressed his lips to her cheek, "is this what you did all afternoon?"

"Yep," Gil whispered. "I think he waited for you to have a nap so he could surprise you."

"It's rather sweet," she smiled at the image of her nephew enjoying a few more cookies. She looked down at this plate, decorated significantly differently. "And these?"

"For you," her lover confirmed, holding one up to display the meticulous design he'd made. "It's Australia!"

It looked like a smear of dirt in a sea of blue.

"Don't worry, I made my own preparations for today," he whispered before nipping at her ear, promising fun more than just some cookies.

"Hm," Thena purred, allowing him to kiss behind her ear and down her neck in their small window of privacy. "You do love this particular occasion."

"Damn right I do," he said against the soft skin of her shoulder, just inside the collar of her dress. "An excuse to lavish my wife with gifts and attention? And make love like wild animals-"

"AHEM!!!"

Gil sighed as he pulled away from her to also glare at Phastos, "what, dude?--don't you also have lavishing to do?"

"Not in the kitchen I don't," Phastos snapped with his hands on his hips. "None of us are having a romantic time until 9 o'clock anyway."

That was Jack's bed time.

"So we're gonna go out for a nice family dinner instead," he declared firmly, as if it were a mission order, and not an invitation to a nice restaurant. He slapped his coat over his arm, "and you two are gonna behave!"

"We always behave," Gil rolled his eyes, following Phastos into the living room and front hall to also retrieve his and Thena's coats.

"Nuh-uh, no, I mean it Gil," Phastos snapped in his brother's face as they both glared at each other amidst helping their partners into their own coats. "No ooey-gooey eyes, no playing footsies under the table, no sneakin' off to the bathroom."

"What if he has to go?" Jack asked much more innocently as he retrieved his own coat. He smiled as Thena held it out for him the same way Gil had done for her.

"That's not-" Phastos sighed, rubbing his eyes under his glasses. "Okay, never mind, family dinner, let's go."

#Thenamesh and Jack #family valentines!!!#thank you Love this is such a sweet idea #of course Jack would make something for his favourite aunti!#Phastos is like my own kid doesn't love me that's fine #Ben just rolls his eyes because maybe all Eternals are drama queens #Phastos and Ben are out here worrying Jack has a crush #meanwhile he's a literal child and he's like no it's still gross when you guys kiss no thank you #they do go to dinner #Thena and Jack go halfsies on his kids spaghetti and her risotto #but she does accept the bites of steak and asparagus Gil offers her #every time the poor server asks how everything is she looks him dead in the eyes and says #it's nothing like my husband's cooking but it is edible #Phastos: don't mind her I swear I'll tip thank you #Jack goes to bed with a tummy ache #because he ate seven cookies #three in the afternoon and four when no one was looking #and Thena doesn't get up until noon the next day and the bed is in literal pieces #Gil: fun family trip to Ikea yay! :D #Phastos: I hate both of you

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