#what if i move somewhere just for him to decide to drop a nuke there?

[breadcrxmbs-reblogs]

dude i really didn't think i could get more depressed. this shit sucks lol

[usersasaki]

hello tumblr user usersasaki 🫵 you will never know who i am! (or who knows lol hi karma <3) this anon has been looking into getting into orv but keeps procrastinating like they do on many other things and so asks you, one of their resident orv likers they know, to uh. idk. but feel free to ramble on about why you like orv so much & why someone should get into it (like me!) so maybe i can finally be convinced to read it Now instead of putting it off for later again and again !! ... or something like that 🥺✨

OK GUYS THIS IS NOT A DRILL. THIS IS NOT A DRILLLLL AAAAA HELLO U BEAUTIFUL PERSON I THINK IK WHO U ARE BUT RN I'M SO READY TO CRUSH U IN A BIG HUG REGARDLESS OF THAT

ahem. yes. anyways. i'm totally normal abt this, i totally didn't go feral for a few moments before i started typing this. OK BUT I'M SO READY TO TRY TO CONVINCE U TO READ THIS CUZ WHEN I SAY THIS WEBTOON + WEBNOVEL HAS CHANGED ME ENTIRELY. pls bear with me, giving me a chance to word vomit was not a good idea /hj. i'll put everything under the cut :] and i'll try to keep everything as spoilerless as possible so that u can safely enjoy the story when u get to it

i will apologise in advance for the person i've become, this might end up becoming a HUGE post (edit: i think it did, this is apparently at a lil more than 2k words rn cuz i typed this in google docs for fear of tumblr nuking my entire draft and me having to start all over again)

tldr for those who don't want to go through a 2k essay; orv is for you if you enjoy clean art, stories that will break down your initial expectations and surpass them, and things like found family, love (all kinds), and just an emotional rollercoaster in general. prepare snacks and tissues.

i'll start with the webtoon because that's where it started for me! honestly one of the things i look for most when i start a webtoon is the art. and there are times when even if i like the story, if the art ain't it for me, i'll drop the story 😭💀 but orv has such beautiful and crisp art, very edible art HAHAHA (both webtoon and novel by the way but i'll get to the novel in a bit) it makes me go so O.O sometimes. here's an example of the art, you might've seen it somewhere but i'm still adding it here for the pure beauty of these men named kim dokja and yoo joonghyuk AND ALSO han sooyoung and jung heewon (yes i'm gay, no it's not obvious /j). every character in this webtoon is so well drawn and just. chef's kiss okay, so if you like pretty art, you've got that right here folks.

moving on, the story seems, at first, like a very generic action fantasy webtoon where the world of a novel becomes reality and our mc aka kim dokja is the one who knows how to get to the end and he gets to meet his favourite novel’s protagonist yoo joonghyuk and decides to save the world. but as the story progresses on and on, it becomes so much more than that. the storytelling skills have to be applauded because webtoons can't use lots of words and have to convey things more concisely than their novel counterparts but they've done an amazing job of using the right dialogues in the right places with the right amount of impact. AND as of right now, the story is starting to head towards what i'd like to say is the actual beginning of this webtoon >:) that’s all i can say without spoiling some major things from the novel so,, yeah!

another beautiful part is the portrayal of each of the characters, especially kdj, and their different dynamics with kdj. now kim dokja is our mc and the main narrator of this entire thing so we’re quite limited in that sense because all we see and know is what kim dokja tells us through his narration. a lot of posts have accurately pinned him down as an unreliable narrator because he really only ever shows his companions (and us readers) one part of things and we’re all left to speculate about things. each companion holds a different opinion of kdj but all of them are united in the fact that they trust him to help them get through everything. while the webtoon hasn’t had a chance to explore that yet, i’m looking forward to how they will show it to us :] i’d say that this webtoon is worth a read also because kim dokja is the most mind boggling, intriguing and frustrating character you will ever meet. that’s a fact that’ll get clearer as you get closer to the recent chapters of the webtoon, but i love how he’s relatable in the sense that he both makes me screech in awe but also makes me want to wring his neck with how he is sometimes. i love him *holds him by the neck* (affectionately). oh and when i say every character is just a beautiful piece of art, i mean both their literal art and also the way they’ve been written, though it is more clear in the novel as of right now.

NOW i’m gonna move onto the webnovel because i honestly fell deeper into the rabbit hole purely because of the novel. and sing shong (the author of the webnovel) is an absolute genius for the way they have both intricately and simply pushed a single message throughout the length of the novel. i constantly joke about how reading the orv novel has changed my brain chemistry but i’m not joking most of the time because it really did. in many ways, i’m sure this is a novel i will remember for a very long time to come.

the same points i spoke about for the webtoon stand for the novel as well BUT of course the novel is just immaculately written and it deserves a chance of its own. it’s not that the writing of the novel is extraordinarily fancy or anything, it’s actually quite simple reading without too many complicated words but i think that has a beauty of its own. it’s able to convey what it needs to without having 10 pages of description and that’s awesome to me. there are issues with some things written in the novel but as it isn’t a focus or the point of orv (i got this point from this tumblr post, feel free to read through it if you want to because they have written some great points that can’t be said better by me!), it’s still a novel that entertains you to the fullest.

the characters are admittedly more fleshed out in the novel than the webtoon but that’s because the webtoon is still catching up while the novel is complete (it ended with epilogue chapters but recently the author came out with side stories). the relationships are just very detailed and it gives you a look into not only kim dokja’s head, but also yoo joonghyuk and other characters’ heads as well, though they’re not as common because the majority of the story is in kdj’s point of view. i’ve neglected mentioning other character names so far but kim dokja has a set of the most loyal and sweet and sometimes feral companions besides yoo joonghyuk like yoo sangah, who is someone kdj knew before the novel became their world, jung heewon and lee hyunsung, kdj’s trusty sword and shield, lee gilyoung and shin yoosung, his children (not biological but yes). there’s also lee jihye, an avid yoo joonghyuk follower who insults kdj at every turn but cares for him, and han sooyoung, who is portrayed as a bit of an antagonist or an anti-hero (as far as the webtoon goes anyway wink wink). and a lot of other characters you’ll grow to either love a lot or hate with a passion oR even have your opinion take a whole 180 about as you read on and on, that’s just the kinda novel this is.

don’t even get me started on the underlying themes of this novel. this is me being an english major (and psychology major unintentionally, double major woohoo) through and through but i love analysing characters and figuring out themes that come out through the writing. i won’t go too into the details so that i won’t spoil it for anyone who happens upon this post. but there’s the overarching theme of love; not just romantic love but also platonic love, familial love and the most important one of this novel, self-love. another theme i think is quite relevant and important to this story is more easily relatable to people who read often because it goes into how books can change you BUT you can also change books by reading them over and over again and understanding it better. also how stories can save you but you, as a reader, have the power to save stories by reading them. because in the end, a story continues because you read it. OH I CAN’T FORGET THIS, found family <3 if you’re a fan of found family, this is for you, it’s present throughout the story as a small but encompassing theme.

now this could be just me but i get extremely emotional when it comes to my favourite media, so i squeal with joy at happy parts, sob uncontrollably when sad scenes come up, punch my pillows when something makes me mad⏤ you get my point. and this novel gave me an entire rollercoaster of emotions and made me so URGH in good, bad and ugly ways. it kinda brings me back to my point about kdj being an unreliable narrator since the reason why it gets so hard and sad is because this man never tells anyone anything. he takes it upon himself to do everything, much to the annoyance and despair of his companions and us the readers. we know nothing other than what kdj is willing to tell us, not about his plans, not about him, not about his own feelings. and we’re left to guess and guess until everything is laid bare and then we’re still trying to. process everything. yeah i don’t know if this part is making any sense but i can’t really go into detail without majorly spoiling the story. so you’re gonna have to come back to my post once you’re done to be like “ohhh, right this is what they meant.” /j

To move to a lighter and probably my last point, the novel illustrations are gold i tell you. it’s done by a person named blackbox or bb-nim for short and i love just going through their art for fun. of course, if you’re reading it on a website like i did, then you’re not going to see the illustrations side by side so you should definitely check out blackbox’s twitter which i’ve linked here :] you’ll probably also find their art on pinterest. gorgeous art i tell you, BUT BUT BUT there are spoilers here and there so beware if you go digging through their media tab on their twt. I’ll put some of my favourite pieces that are as non-spoiler as possible under this

so. yeah. these are my reasons for why you should read both the orv webtoon and novel. In the end, all i can say is that if you give them a chance, you’ll probably get hooked just as i did. i knew to a certain extent about how the novel was but nothing prepared me enough but i’m not complaining because it is genuinely so good. i’ll add a list of content warnings here that i got from the wiki page because i don’t want anyone to be ambushed by anything they’re not comfortable with reading: graphic violence, death and murder, depression, anxiety, suicidal ideation, suicide, body horror, dissociation, transphobia (this might be a deal breaker and it would be for me too as a nonbinary person but it’s not a major focus and happens a couple times throughout the story), cephalopods, tentacles (yes these are real content warnings on the wiki HAHAHA), and finally hospitals.

to all of you who actually read this far, thank you! you are a great person for reading through a random person on the internet go on and on about a webtoon and novel, hope you have an awesome day/night ahead of you! if you have any questions about things in the webtoon or novel, feel free to hit me up, i’m always down to have conversations about orv (none of my irls have read it but i will use this essay to convince one of them to give it a chance so wish me luck). anyway, peace out folks! :]

[naomana]

Any chance of “maybe we can cuddle? you know, seeing as we’re already here... “ for Lincoln/Donovan? ( ʃƪ˘ﻬ˘)(˘ ε˘ʃƪ)

Just because I feel like this is something Johnny boy would say.

(ᇴ‿ฺᇴ)

Full prompt list here

"maybe we can cuddle? you know, seeing as we’re already here... " Donolinc

1) John would 100% say it

2) Sorry it took so long, I'm only slowly getting into writting these two so I had to watch a lot of footage for reference..and even after all that it's not as good as I'd hope for but..nevermind

Donovan was watching the warhead getting lift up, before Gary navigated the chopper away. It was a rough day. Long and tiring. He could do with some booze and sleep. He placed cigarette between his lips and moderate nudge made him turn around to look at Lincoln, that one motherfucker who helped him without hesitation.

"I don't mean to pry but you mind tellin' me who just flew off with the nuke?" He asked, watching the chopper disappearing in distance.

"Oh. That's Gary. He's a great guy, you'd love him." He mumbled, cigarette wobbling between his lips.

"Oh, Gary." Said Lincol, as if he knew him but forgot about him a while ago. Donovan lit up his cigarette and run his fingers through his messy hair.

"Who the fuck is Gary?" Lincoln asked, he didn't want to drop it. Naturally, he didn't risk his neck for some other greedy fucker to just get his hands on a fucking nuke. He trusted Donovan, but still had to know. Donovan laughed, genuinely amused.

"He's a man who knows people. He'll probably even manage to squeeze a reward out of Pentagon. But don't worry, I'll cut you in." Teased him John and enjoyed his first puff of the day.

They started walking away, just messing around. He wanted to get away from the place as soon as possible, dead Aldridge under the ground was one of the reasons. Dark messed up part of his past. He had hard time pulling that trigger. That greedy little cocksucker really messed him up for a while. Gave him a lot of trust issues. He was glad to finally leave that behind, finding somebody who he could trust no matter what.

"Ohh, I'm finished. How long have we been up?" John stopped for a moment and stretched his back, feeling and actually hearing it crack.

"Somethin' about 36 hours." Said Lincoln with chuckle and looked at him.

"I don't think it's a good idea to go back yet. Don't think I could navigate the boat the right direction in this state." Commented Donovan and looked around, considering to stay the night there. Sun was already getting down, with all the trees surrounding them it was actually nice view. Very romantic.

"Wait a minute man. You suggest we stay here over night? There's at least 2 dozen dead bodies scattered around us, in case you missed it." Lincoln pointed out and Donovan looked around with chuckle.

"What's the problem man? It wasn't any better at 'Nam. Come on, those assholes must have been sleeping somewhere." Donovan turned around and walked back inside, leaving Lincoln behind just watching him. He couldn't decide whenever he was serious or not, but it was Donovan. He probably was. So Lincoln followed him, looking for place they could spend the night.

"This looks usable." He found small room with bed big enough for both of them. Lincoln looked at it and back at him.

"What? You wanna share bed?"

"Hey, I'm your girlfriend right? Don't wanna make good sweet lovin' to me?" He teased him with laugh and started undressing his gear, rubbing his sore shoulders.

"Fuck you man." Lincoln laughed as well, but followed his example and took off everything heavy and uncomfortable. He was watching his back as he was getting undressed, leaving only his shirt and pants. And so did Lincoln.

Donovan plopped his body on the bed and moved to side, giving Lincoln enough room. He was standing there just watching him.

"Christ Lincoln. I won't bite you." Teased him and patted the empty spot beside him. Lincoln finally moved, laying down next to him.

"Unless you want me to of course." Donovan continued because he could see the state it was leaving Lincoln in.

"I might bite you back." Said Lincoln and turned to his back, watching the ceiling. Donovan was looking at him, laying on his side with hand supporting his head. It was one of those cheesy seductive positions, for woman it was great because her curvy lines would be clearly visible, showing off nice view. In Donovan's case, it just made him look.. Lincoln turned his head at him, seeing he was being watched.

"Maybe we can cuddle? You know, seeing we're already here?" He asked, trying to make it sound casual, but deep down inside he really needed hug, after killing somebody he cared for so much. It was still fresh, still hurting him. He killed the nasty and greedy Aldridge, the one he really hated. But the Aldridge he used to know, the one he used to love.. he couldn't kill him off his mind so easily.

"C'm here." Lincoln turned to his side and let him get closer so he could wrap his hands around him in tight warm embrace. Donovan closed his eyes and relaxed, feeling instantly better just from that one touch.

Lincoln's hand on his back felt good. Way too good. His odour was tickling his nose and he rubbed against him, getting all hot in the wrong placed. He heard Lincoln's sweet chuckle before his voice resonated through his ears.

"You've got problem, you know that? Grabbing guys crotches is one of them." He said because Donovan's hand found his groin and he just shrugged his shoulders, like he wasn't bothered at all.

"Had the get the information out of him somehow."

"Oh really? And what information are you trying to get out of me?" He let out muffled groan, slowly losing his mind under Donovan's experienced touch. There was one thing that always burnt his tongue, he always wanted to ask but never knew how, never knew when was the right opportunity.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Hm?" Donovan looked at him, he was just in middle of unzipping his pants but Lincoln's serious tone made him stop. Did he overdo it? Was he angry? Did things completely change since 'Nam?

"Were you and Aldridge.. you know. A deal?"

"A deal?" Donovan asked, like he didn't understand and Lincoln sighed.

"Dating?"

"Oh? What? Are you jealous?" Donovan teased him with laugh, trying to hide how uncomfortable he felt from the question. He just wanted to bounc on his cock, forget about the past. Instead, Lincoln had to bring it up and.. well he couldn't really be angry at him for it.

"You never questioned why was I alright to mess around with a guy?" He moved away from him a little and Lincoln pulled him back.

"Didn't want to pry. Wasn't really my business. Are you alright?" He asked him seriously and Donovan chuckled.

"I'll be better with that pretty thing between your thighs in my mouth." He teased him and Lincoln laughed, before shutting him up with kiss. He didn't want to stick him nose into anything else and since they were already there, all alone, they could make the most out of it. Besides, they were both pent up from all of the Marcano huntdown bullshit and there was always one thing they could count on, when it came to distressing; each others presence and maybe little bit of spice.

[sokayisaidiot]

Dream SMP Assumption #8

Today’s topic: Heart or Mind way?

Please DO NOT read if you’re uncomfortable with the themes of death, depression and suicide. It’s a very complicated theme. I did NOT study it and do NOT know some aspects of it. I just go off the things I saw in the smp and made my own theories about it. If you’re even slightly triggered by this, please stop and do NOT try to read it. Please do NOT put yourself in some kind of uncomfortable zone.

Please do not. Thank you

(This is all assumptioning from the fictional world of dream smp)

(Heavy spoilers on the resent events)

(Also just assumptions, when you know something, you can always drop it :))

(This Series is created by another person, that’s just too fuckin lazy to move her butt)

Trigger warning today:

Death

Hints of the betrayals

Okay- what I’ve wanted to say-

is when you like a character, it mostly is because they are relatable. And that’s sad, because when other people are just straight out say this character sucks. Then you just think, “Hey! I feel relatable to them! You just say I suck too!”

Have my Analys why you maybe like your character so much and why you shouldn't shit on others! Because thats just hella rude!

For me, it’s tommy. I find myself in the situation often he is in. Hell, he has two older brother figures and one sarcastic dad figure (for me it’s my mum). As tommy has his deep and undestructable love with the disks, I have my connection to my teddy bears. I mean I’m nearly sixteen now, but when I think going without my teddy somewhere, i will protest and I will beat up people if they try to destroy them. Or for nihachu, being a woman in a world full of men who think they need to guide her, when she is completely able to guide herself! But that doesn’t mean I agree with his/her actions.

It’s important too understand how you act and why you don’t agree with some things!

Other people feel relatable with their favorite character because they make the same decisions. One of My brothers have the same mindset as technoblade. They act the same and make the same desicions. My other brother is the same way with Wilbur.

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I will not say here that they all think just in this ONE direction, but how they act in general ways. And this is not any hate against any character, since its actually a analysis and I really feel connected to most of them in some way!

Tommy is a heart person. He thinks with his emotions and that’s why his plan are more improvised and thinks of people first and then the product. Seeing him acting for tubbo and then for the discs. Or him going rescuing Niki and then fighting when he knows he can act out with her being safe. With his emotional way he also makes the brashest decisions. His emotions bring him often into danger and make him a perfect weapon.

Heart people also are

Puffy, with thinking first of the children and even going against a friend and power. Her goal is to destroy something which is planned to be destroyed later, but doing it beforehand since it hurts others. But with her age, she has more knowledge than tommy and CAN act with a plan and not just improvising.

Sapnap is also a heart person. He acts out of emotions and like Tommy, makes many times rash decisions. He likes doing improvised things and jumping into action from a simple order. Not like Dream, who scouts everything out or does one plan after thinking of millions of ways of outcomes.

Phil also thinks with his heart. He just sees children and adopts them. He also carries pain like from when he killed Wilbur. He does make many mind decisions, but most of them come from experience. And with the way he didn’t outright went after the axe of peace, which would have been a logical decision, he didn’t attack Tommy.

Niki is part of the heart people. It’s obvious like we all know. She sees the peoples feelings first and then plans out. When she saw her fox getting killed by sapnap, she let her emotions handle out first. She is also a very forgiving person and a big hearted person. When she is hurt, it will take a long time for her to figure it out. Like she stated, her character has a hard time coping with everything and instead of letting her mind sort it out, she goes against another person. Tommy in this case.

Eret at the start was a mind person, with their decision of seeing something like power first and then the people and also making full fletched and thought plans. But with them deciding to go against Dream (Manberg vs Pogtopia War and losing his crown and later fighting against Dream and protecting Tommy and Tubbo) because of their decision to listen to their heart first. They changed to listen to their hearts, instead of really thinking of their own valuable

Wilbur is through and through a heart person. His emotions made him go insane in the end and the deep emotional bond to Tommy was his unfinished business. He thinks for the country that he makes home for the others and will take his friends dear too him, when they are in danger. He will not hesitate to take a bullet for them or put their safety over his. Looking at, when he stood up to Schlatt, protecting Niki in the process of the crossfire.

Jack Manifold is a very emotional person. He takes things to heart and can't really think with the most logical way. He will remember things you do or did. Like when Tommy killed him and he lost all of his stuff, he was very and is still very angry. He thinks of revenge and the way people forget that he is also pretty young.

For Technoblade, its really seeable that he is a mind person. He barely handles out of emotions. It can be, because he thinks it’s like a weakness, showing his open emotions. He sees his ideals before the heart way. Like how L’Manberg was in the end a big part corrupted. When his emotions gets too much, he will act them out in fletched out plans.

Other mind people are

Dream is PRETTY much the biggest mind person out there with Techno. He thinks through seeing his plans. Like said with how he plans everything through and being always ten steps ahead. His cockiness about his own mind thinking bring his plans to fall. He has a quick thinking pace and also a learn Strats in the moment he fights against his opponent. Which hello? This just screams of a mind, that manipulators take on.

GeorgeNotFound has a clear mindset. He doesn't care about others when its not close people to him, or just doesn't care at all. Hense for all that housebuilding to himself while Pogtopia fought against Manberg. He takes things he feels, makes him more powerful.

Purpled. He thinks through his money. He didn’t question the quest he got and cares about the profit. He has the job of assassin, which just screams of profit and not any heart emotions involved. As a Assassin, you aren't allowed to handle out of emotions. It gives you disadvantage when you show pity against your target.

Badboyhalo sees power now. With the eggplot, he changed from a heart person too a mind person. He sees from the egg a win and got that way manipulated. The egg, which I think possesses him (but thats just me and my crazy thinking mind) Let him make Mind decisions. With who would be good for the Eggpire and who would be dangerous.

Punz has the same way as Purpled. Thinking through the winning situation. He does things when it profits him. He sees a right payment and he will act out on that. Seeing that it is always payment to have him on your side. Or also, when the battle of the lake/tower happened, he choose the winning side, which was obviously Techno and Dream.

Jschlatt is a mind person, Mind you! He saw a way of getting power and he knows how to play it out (not thinking about the drinking part). He saw the threats of Wilbur and Tommy and made the mind decision of exiling them. He thinks of his own profit, without letting his emotions work out.

Tubbo is one of the cases where he has both ways! Surprise! He AINT a “UwU boy”, because he can make brash decisions but thinking in high situations quickly or logically. He makes nukes for gods sake! And with the logical way, he knows when its impossible to win, like when Tommy and him where in Dreams “Hall of Fame”. In Moments he WILL think positively or bring someones else happiness over himself. The discs and Dream Situation! He thinks about his friends and new home, but makes plans on how they can be safe through logic ways.

The people who think both ways

HBomb94 is in there too, because he is really cool. Okay? Good. And the funny thing is, he is kinda both. We saw him, before Doomsday, thinking about the logical way of the situation. In other, when he decided to go away, because he doesn't feel he belongs somewhere, he thinks with his heart, even though, other members respect him AND care about him

Awesamdude is here too because its seeable in the ways where he cares about others and still thinks with a plan. Seeing Tommy’s and Tubbo’s protection and his hotel with a heartfelt decision, as well as trying to help Tommy’s mental state, while still getting his own profit out of it logically, is pretty smart. Props to c!Awesamdude!

Ranboo. He makes decisions like following people first or not choosing sides which is big logically, but his emotions, like being loyal to those who have saved or helped him are heart felt. He doesn't choose sides because he knows that all the sides bring bad conflicts with them and still stays with others for them.

Fundy has both! The Fox can be very hurt or make rash decisions from his heart. But his mind also goes with it, like deciding that he actually liked a big part of Jschlatt’s Plan. He needs a bit of time to calm down of the emotional side, but when he is, he is one of the most clever people on the server, like a fox, you know. Okay, please end me-

Quackity has a more wavering state to heart, but making decisions like taking Jschlatt’s side by the elections and seeing his own profit out of it. After seeing Jschlatts wrong doings how so ever, he did what his heart told him to do and he joined the rebellion.

Ponk has both ways. If he sees profit, he will take the situation. A logical mind set. But also when both Tommy and Tubbo fighting Dream he came with the group to help them, giving Tommy a HUGE FUCKIN AMOUNT of DIAMOND BLOCKS, he makes them a grave out of hearts decision for the soon or already dead people and visits Awesamdude, since they are good friends.

Antfrost who actually has a way of thinking with both heart and mind. When he sees a win situation for him only, he will make it. The whole getting more land to themselves and also the eggplot. But he also makes decisions like letting Niki go when she was their hostage, because he feels it’s wrong.

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I want to hear who you feel relatable too- which character which way? Is it because you act the same, make the same decisions or just are often in the same place? Just comment here!

That’s where I think people will protect their favorite character. Yeah, there are many people who act like Tommy’s character or think like techno’s. Nobody is the same, that’s impossible.

So please don't attack other characters ways of thinking or handling, only if it is something so morally incorrect or wrong (MANIPULATING, KILLING, Hostage situation, total destruction)

[cynthiaandsamus]

Custom Toonami Block Week 86 Rundown

Code Geass: It’s time for the final battle and as usual the fate of the world will be decided by a clash between two rich entitled assholes (usually British). We kinda yadda yadda through what seems like it might be months of prepwork going through things like Xingke’s disease getting worse, Gino joining the Black Knights, Viletta getting knocked up and them building a whole-ass Barbie Pink Knightmare for C.C. for some reason. Lelouch tells Nunally to her face he doesn’t give a shit about her and just wanted to rule the world, which is probably something he couldn’t have even thought of doing for 90% of the series, so his lying skills have ascended to the highest level. Schnizel tells Nunally he’s just nuking the world for peace and made sure everyone got out of the cities he bombed before it happened which you can kind of just tell right away is bullshit and he shoots Cornelia when she calls him on it, like idk if that was really necessary not like she could do much to stop his whole “Bomb 90% of the world and then the last 10% will be at peace” plan. The war finally starts and it’s honestly kind of the most realistic depiction of war I’ve seen in an anime since it’s just people moving around troops with flanks and shit until Lelouch blows up a volcano and Schnizel decides to nuke everyone so Lelouch has to disarm the nuke in mid-air. Both of them are like “Haha! Your lying bullshit is no match for MY lying bullshit!” and it’s basically a weird dick measuring contest between brothers but the show’s not called Code Geass: Schnizel of the Keeping Things the Way They Are so we know who’ll win.

Inuyasha: So this one’s an ACTUAL filler episode, apparently all that Monkey God and Demon’s Head Castle stuff was canon even though it had nothing to do with anything and was generally pretty dumb. This time after calling Kagome out sick from school for so long, karmic irony catches up to her and she actually does get sick. From there we have a cute but standard ‘sick hurt/comfort fic’ set up with Kagome showing vulnerability with her cold and Inuyasha dropping his façade to actually go out and hunt demons to get materials to make a miracle cure for her that his mom made for him and take care of her like his mom did. Also Kagome gets to hang out with her friends for once and actually does decently on a test to boot, so all in all between some cute fluff and ship dynamic stuff straight out of a comforting fanfic this episode’s basically like Chicken Soup for the heart, or chicken liver since that’s what Inuyasha put in the miracle cure… just don’t tell Kagome. (Actually really laughed that Sota convinced Inuyasha not to tell Kagome what was in the broth and skipped over the big reaction of her finding out just to keep the moment nice, that’s how you make a cozy episode really).

Yu Yu Hakusho: The Dr. Ichigaki fight continues and even though the action in this episode’s basically recycled animation of the one attack each of the three fighters knows, the emotional stuff’s pretty good. We get a good look at Not!Genkai’s face and she’s a pretty pink-haired anime girl so those are always important to have in anime. Kuwabara has a standard “I know you’re in there somewhere” deal with the three controlled fighters on the other team and it’s pretty standard but it’s effective because there’s nothing sudden about the change, it’s a slow and temporary erosion of the control triggered by Kuwabara’s desperate pleas. It’s also subtle that they change the command of “Kill” to “Kill us” and it’s unclear whether they were saying “Kill us” all along and they just couldn’t get it out until now or whether adding that one extra word was all they could manage but the ambiguity of it is pretty neat and makes for a rather striking scene. Yusuke gets really pissed because they hit the “Break Kuwabara in case of Super Saiyan” glass so now Yusuke can see the attacks at least which it’s not a full super saiyan transformation like he normally gets when someone beats the shit out of Kuwabara so at least they’re breaking up the formula a bit. Now that Yusuke has the upper hand he vows to win the fight without honoring the three fighters’ request to be killed.

Fate Zero: Speaking of breaking up formulas, welcome to like the fourth episode in a row of “Kiritsugu Emiya needs a character arc therefore women must die”. This time on the chopping block is Maiya and later Irisviel. It’s the episode that reminds us that we haven’t really made any progress since the beginning of these season between Kirei’s backstabbing and several flashback episodes I kinda forgot the last major event was the river fight and the Diarmunde shit. So yeah, Rider’s still tired from using Unlimited Dude Works to suck up the bloodborne monster so Waver’s becoming a burrito in the woods until he’s better, but we get that Fate thing of “Well I’ll do my best but I’mma prolly die soon because they made me too OP and have to kneecap me in my final fight” that happens a lot in UBW, I thought we got past that. Kariya remembers that he’s gotten basically no screentime lately and has a meeting with his Inner Hollow about how fucked they are before he gets Sakura’s Virginity Slug jammed into his mouth and I don’t even want to know what I mean by that. Kiritsugu says goodbye to Iris because she’s definitely going to die and makes a bunch of promises we already know won’t be kept and gets Saber’s sheathe back before going to assassinate Rin’s dad before finding out Kirei spawnkilled him. We jam in some quick backstory for Maiya so that maybe somebody feels something when Iskandar murders her for no reason so Irisviel can live another five seconds I guess. Like Maiya was already a dead girl walking during this whole show, that’s just the kind of character she is, these whole “I live for you” characters never end up well even outside of prequels but it just feels like they knew that and kinda yadda yadda’d over WHY they killed her other than to not break the combo of Kiritsugu getting his girl murdered three episodes in a row. Like Iskandar abducted a girl with five minutes to live and killed her henchwoman for… no real reason, like that seems like a dick move from the “HA HA! AN HONORABLE FIGHT WHILE I AM NOT WEARING PANTS!” guy. We’re just throwing people into the character development meat grinder at this point, I mean it makes tragic backstories work better but we’re getting way into diminishing returns at this point.

Konosuba: The hot springs arc continues and it’s kind of just everyone bumming around the town the whole time. We get the obligatory actual hot spring scene and Kazuma being a dick as well as Aqua being pissy about nobody respecting her authoriteh so she kind of imagines up a plot so she can save the town and be a hero and not hated except it’s Konosuba so the plot either isn’t real or the heroes have already made it worse and so now we have a reenactment of the mob scene from the Simpsons Movie ready to murder Aqua for being a demon. If this were a smarter series I’d say there’s an allegory for religious zealots murdering their own god here but because it’s Konosuba it’s likely just character torture for the sake of it.

Sailor Moon Crystal: So we get the full rundown on the whole future world 1000 years in the future thing and it’s… not reincarnation but just the future’s THAT perfect that everyone just kind of lives forever and Chibi-Usa is really like 994 years old and never grew up so wtf that sounds like a nightmare but okay. The world got nuked but everyone important is just unconscious and Sailor Moon is trapped in her Titan Shifter Crystal because apparently she got her surviving huge explosions instincts from Annie Leonhardt. As soon as they get back Usagi gets super mad about Mamoru wanting to PROTECT THEIR DAUGHTER, which even she admits is stupid and immediately regrets which I guess is accurate teenage girl writing but plot-wise it just exists to incentivize Chibi-Usa going back to the future by herself so she can get attacked only for the group to follow her right away anyway. So… a stupid decision led to a stupid decision which in the end didn’t affect anything anyway. Sailor Moon can’t use her OHK Beam in the future because their crystals are apparently locked to the timeline they originate from which idk why she can’t use her original less broken powers still but okay. Tuxedo Mask admittedly gets to do a pretty cool Father-Son Kamehameha deal with his future self to kill the commander of the week and the big boss shows up and turns out he has a weird evil boner for Usagi and kidnaps her.

Durararax2: We’re finally in the new season and I’m flying blind at this point, it had been a long time since I’d watched Season One but I’ve legit NEVER seen x2. We get a lot of info and new character intros all at once, oddly enough a lot of Americans seem to be joining the cast which seems to be a thing that usually happens when a series sees itself getting Western appeal and it’s funny because those characters usually aren’t as beloved. Anyway, Shinra’s dad has an American trophy wife who’s also a big titty doctor now and Shizuo’s brother’s production agency seems like it has a big role this season as well as some random new characters thrown in. Celty gets into a high speed chase with the cops and throws a giant hanglider of shadows across the entire city (which the cops even make a Lupin reference, usually that’s reserved for Erika and Walker but guess they couldn’t resist). And everyone just kinda has that “wow it occurs to me while watching a motorcycle chase between a dullahan and a maniac cop that ends in shadow hangliders and vending machines being thrown around that this city may be kind of weird” moment that happens in the opening/closing episodes of Durarara seasons.

[theinsanecrayonbox]

thinking more about Alexei’s conception...

this boy is a fighter. always has been, always will be.

because yeah, he was conceived between PR and OoX. the drones tearing out Vic’s internal organs (oh gee look, was pretty much the baby making parts area, heh), it threw his cycle off track and/or nullified his birth control, because of the overactive levels of healing required. so he unexpectedly fell into heat on the return trip from the artic, that triggered OML, thus forced heat induced coupling.

however, it was coming off of that that the Orphans were able to get the drop on them and catch them. and you know, bullet in the head for a few days? so dead for that time. then afterwards, OML didn’t seem to recall what had happened right before they got abducted (either because of the pheromone control mixed with his own denial/guilt/old age failing memory, or the bullet in his head), so Vic just chose to pretend it didn’t happen. this was the first time this Logan had ever hurt him like that, maybe his Victor wasn’t like him and he didn’t know any better; plus he was trying to be a better man/the bigger person, and this would just screw that up. and i mean, he was dead for a few days right after it happened, no way it took, right?

but it did, despite the odds stacked against it, it did take. a few weeks later it was kind of a surprise that he got sick after the Nuke pills, but no one would really had questioned a poor reaction to them; they were experimental drugs after all. but he still ducked out, holed up in a motel somewhere, needing some air and distance to try to sort out his next moves, when Yuriko calls saying that their Logan is seemingly back, so he calls up Daken, and the three of them go to investigate (thus Claws of a Killer).

but he didn’t go back to the team. Laura called him about Belle, so he went and took custody of her from SHIELD after her mutation kicked in and she wasn’t adjusting well. he took her to the Creed Cabin where they were for a while (though do avoid Clara for the duration); she learned how to handle her new senses, he decided to ride out the pregnancy because due to his track record, chances were high that he’d just loose the baby well before it’d even matter. but he didn’t. OML comes looking for him, realizing what’s going on, demands Vic abort the baby because he will have no part in that; Vic kicks him off his property, for that and for kinda having a PTSD slip and confusing Belle for his Gabby and attacking her. 

He does go back to the team after Yuriko talks him into it; plus Belle could use the field testing. so he goes back to the team, not showing and not telling. Warpath REALLY is against belle being on this team. but we get to Arkady, he joins the team, bonds with Belle very easily. Vic ends up telling Arkady about the baby as they start to get involved; Arkady warms fast to the idea of being surrogate sire. Raven joins the team (more enticed in by Yuriko rather than Victor, because after Vic went off the grid with Belle, she picked up his phone and continued the conversation with Foreigner/Raven); she doesn’t know immediately, but recognizes eventually the signs that Vic’s pregnant, having gone through this with him before. but no one else is told...

until Azazel. yeah it makes no real sense that Vic would’ve gone in for Monet and then to Azazel...unless he promised Arkady and Belle this was the last gig he’d do, then after he’d tell the rest of the team about the baby, and take the time off. of course, Azazel decapitates him, leading to the baby reveal (and i’m sure Azazel went “oh, if i’d known you were Graydon’s father and not mother Raven, i’d’ve been far less jealous of him), and so while the others went to hell to get him/stop Stryker, Belle and Monet were left behind to deliver the premature Alexei vis c-section. and plus, when Vic was sent back, he had no memories of his kids and was wild, leading to Arkady going and looking for him until...

Age of X-Man rewrote reality for a bit, then when undone altered some things up, thus Alexei *might* be a bit older than he should be...and thus Krakoa sprung up. Belle took Alexei back to the Cabin, where now we meet Clara who takes them in. Clara also gives Arkady Vic’s little black book of favors he gave her at some point for emergencies; a list of people that owed him from all over the place and throughout his life, so he takes it to pull some strings to go and get Vic out of the Pit (thus leading to why they hole up in one of Rand’s safe houses in NYC for a few weeks after escape, leading to Misha’s conception)

and this has turned into my full plot synopsis instead of the original thought, so to circle back; despite everything, Alexei lived. against all odds, the gray fluffball survived

[minuteminx]

Revolutionary

[NEW FIC ALERT!!]

Pairing: Preston Garvey/ Female Sole Survivor

Summary: In the aftermath of personal tragedies, Preston and Charlie both seek to make a difference in the Commonwealth and those around them. They could never anticipate the impact that they will have on eachother in the process.

[AO3 Link]

Chapter One: Paul Revere

“You cannot buy the revolution. You cannot make the revolution. You can only be the revolution. It is in your spirit, or it is nowhere.” ― Ursula K. Le Guin, The Dispossessed

Qunicy Ruins, June 2288

When Preston was a kid, he’d sit with his dad on their tattered rug as the man picked lackadaisically at the strings of an ancient guitar.  He’d wax all sorts of poetic about the past, the times before the war, before the bombs fell, before everything was rads and raiders and running from bands of ferals.  It was that Great Commonwealth Myth of a pre-war paradise, of big ideals, and boundless opportunity.  A myth that one would hear refuted if they listened closely enough to grumbles from ghouls who’d managed to keep their sanity over the two centuries since the end of the world.

The myth was a lie, for sure, one Preston had clung to for most of his life.  But he couldn’t anymore, not as he stood staring at the massive pile of ashes that used to be his comrades and the settlers they attempted to protect.  The bastards who murdered all of those people were direct descendents from the monsters who made weapons with enough power to wipe entire regions off the map.  There was no paradise; it was just a prettier picture.

The Quincy settlement, if he could still call it that, looked a lot different since the last time he’d seen it, surrounded by junk fences and lined with barbed wire at the top.  Buildings were tagged with Gunner graffiti, and the streets were quiet as the mass grave that the settlement had turned out to be. It really didn’t make much sense.  Shouldn’t it have been some sort of bustling Gunner stronghold after Clint and his buddies went to all that trouble to claim it?

“I don’t like this,” Charlie remarked suddenly, her raspy voice a quick reminder that he wasn’t alone, hadn’t been alone for over eight months now.  He turned to face her, eyes flicking around the ruins to the seven other Minutemen who’d come along.  Millie was the only one who noticed him, and she gave him the least reassuring smile he’d ever seen.

“Neither do I,” he agreed as he returned his gaze to Charlie.  “Not one bit.”

“It wasn’t like this when I got away,” Millie added, glancing around the square, “I know that there had been mention of disagreements between Clint and the other bosses, probably because he has the leadership ability of a bloatfly.”

Preston smirked. “Now, Millie, I think that’s giving him too much credit.”

She laughed and opened her mouth to reply to him, but an explosion rang out instead as a launched projectile crashed into one of the buildings just ahead of them.  She eyed the area frantically before locking onto the rooftop of the church. “Shit. It’s Baker.”

“Baker?” He snapped his gaze up to the walkway, catching a glimpse of a figure clad in power armor and wielding a goddamned fat man.

“He’s one of the other bosses… and it looks like he found himself a new toy.”

Preston sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, running through the list of possible strategies in his head.  “We need to fall back,” he muttered under his breath decisively, then looked up to make the suggestion to Charlie, to the general, “We need to fall b--”

She’d already taken off toward the church, a pistol in either hand, without giving a single order to him or the others.  He wanted to drop everything and chase after her, to stop her from running directly into danger, just once. But someone had to give some kind of instruction before Baker launched a nuke directly on top of them.   He waved his hand over his head and back toward the gates, motioning for the others to head back out of the middle of town. “Fall back.  Head up to the walkways if you can.  We can’t win this from the ground.”

Millie remained where she stood as the others fled to safety.  “I’ll get these guys into position,” she stated, then nodded in the direction Charlie had run, “You go fetch your general.”

“But--” Another mini nuke exploded, in the distance this time, and his stomach lurched.  

“Go.”  She flicked her wrist in a shooing motion. “You’re not gonna be any use back here worried about her out there trying to pistol whip Baker to death.”

He snorted out a laugh despite the gravity of the situation, the image of the rail thin red-head successfully tackling him down, power armor and all, and smacking the butt of her favorite 10mm into his nose.  Honestly, he’d seen her get away with wilder things.  He tipped his hat at his long time friend, gave his musket a quick crank, and ran off after his wildcard general.

He faced little resistance on his way to the church, only a couple of Gunner conscripts crossed his path, and he was able to take them out easily.  It looked like a lot of their efforts were focused on Millie and the others at the gates and climbing up the walkways. It was for the best, but it didn’t make him worry any less for their safety.

When he finally reached the church, it was too quiet, especially for somewhere Charlie was supposed to be.  There was no gunfire, no talking, nothing.  Just silence.  Preston scanned the area, heart pounding uncomfortably in his chest.  After everything Charlie had been through, all she’d survived, she couldn’t be dead now, not while doing a favor for him, not with all that unfinished business between them. She couldn’t.

Several moments passed, and there were still no signs of life in the area.  He decided to head inside the church, figure out how to get up to the roof for a better view.  Just as he moved toward the door, a loud clank of metal sounded behind him and he spun on his heels, weapon readied.  

It was the traitor himself that he turned to face, Clint, in his hulking suit of stolen power armor, a militia hat perched disrespectfully atop his buzz cut head.  He still wore sunglasses that were so reflective that Preston could see his own furious face in the lenses. Clint let out an arrogant chuckle, and stomped up closer.

“Well, well, well,” he mocked, “What do we have here? Paul Revere himself?”

“Preston Garvey, Commonwealth Minutemen.”  He didn’t know why he felt the need to correct a man he intended to kill, but the words slipped out.

“I know who you are.  Read all about you in Ol’ Ezra’s holotapes.” Clint laughed again. “And the Minutemen don’t exist anymore.  I got rid of the last of ‘em, myself.

“You missed one,” Preston remarked, dryly.

“What? You? Ha!.” Clint shook his head. “And that merry band of farmers you marched in through the front gate with?  Kind of a rookie move, there, son.”

“ Don’t call me son,” Preston spat, venom filling his mouth.  

Before he could react, Clint’s armored fist slammed into his chest, knocking the wind from his lungs and sending him flying back against the rusty skeleton of an old car.  Preston’s head crashed against the metal, and pain pulsed out from the point of impact throughout his whole head.  His vision spun around him, creating a double of the man who towered over him.  He felt sick to his stomach, and couldn’t quite figure out how to get back to his feet or where his weapon went.  Darkness crept in at the corners of his vision.

“I hate mouthy punks,” Clint growled.

Preston attempted to speak, but couldn’t find words in the chaos of his head.  He mumbled something even he couldn’t interpret.

“Oh man,” Clint exclaimed, smirk twisting on his face, “You’re really making this easy, Garvey.  Can’t say you live up to Ezra’s praise. What in the goddamned wasteland made you think you could rebuild the Minutemen?  You can’t even take a punch.  Pathetic.”

As Clint spoke, Preston noticed a blur of movement behind the other man.  He knew his eyes must have been playing tricks on him because it looked as if the air vibrated like it sometimes did in highly irradiated areas.  Quincy wasn’t one of those places.  The only other thing it could be was a--

Just as he thought the word stealth boy , the wobble in the air dissipated, and Charlie stood no more than ten feet behind Clint.  She slowly raised a finger to her lips in a shushing motion, and readied her weapon to aim.  Preston couldn’t keep the relief washing over his face, mouth twitching at the corners. She was alive, and not only that, she’d come to save him once again. Mama Murphy really did hit the nail on the head all those months ago.

“Why are you smiling,” Clint asked abruptly, lifting his laser rifle, locking it straight in the direction of Preston’s chest.  “What’s so fucking funny, huh?”

“Nothing, man,” Preston managed, words slurring, “Nothing at all.”

At that moment, Charlie unleashed a terrifying barrage of shots into Clint’s armor, damaging the legs so severely that they locked in place, and Clint had to jump out.  “What the--” he began, and turned around, to face his attacker.  “You little bitch .”

He attempted to raise his weapon and aim at her, but before he could get there, she’d pulled her trigger.  Preston couldn’t make out where she’d shot Clint, but the man dropped his gun and fell to his knees, before falling to his face.  Charlie holstered her pistols, and stared down at the man she’d just killed, expression as flat as he’d ever seen it.

“I’m not a bitch,” she muttered, shaking her head before setting her gaze on Preston, worry knitting her brows as soon as their eyes met.  She rushed over to where he sat, up against the car he’d been thrown into, and knelt down, cupping his face with a gloved hand on either side and turning his head to the left and then the right, clearly examining him for injury.  She flipped a switch on her PipBoy, flashing a bright beam of light into each of his eyes.  He squinted and shook his head, causing her to giggle, but he could hear the tears and sniffling between laughs.  

“You’re okay,” she assured him, pressing an unexpected kiss to his forehead, “Looks like you might have a concussion, but you’re safe.  I’m here.”

“You’re really scary sometimes, you know that,” he stated, words still stumbling out of his mouth clumsily.  

She laughed nervously and glanced away, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.  “I’m sorry, I just… I’d just watched Clint knock you into this car, and he was about to kill you and I just--.”

“No,”  he corrected her, grin spreading across his face, “It’s kinda hot.”

She snorted and a tear rolled down her cheek, dripping off her chin.  “Jesus, you hit your head harder than I thought.”

“It’s still the truth,” he admitted weakly, vision closing in entirely.  The last thing he heard before he lost consciousness entirely, was her voice calling his name.  

“Preston?”

[fbfh]

Light Up the Dark - [IV] Leo x reader

genre: romance + action + enemies to lovers kinda

word count: 2k

au: none

pairing: Leo x gothy!child of eros!fem reader

requested: nah

warnings: MAJOR SPOILERS FOR HEROES OF OLYMPUS!!, normal reader being mean lol, mentions of abandonment issues, a breakup over skype call basically, reader uses  seduction powers for fun and profit, i think that’s it

summary: You pull some strings to get a hotel room and some cash, the boys get to know you a little better, and you overhear something you probably shouldn’t have.

listen to: bad liar - imagine dragons

a/n: since the reader is a daughter of Eros, the characters are aged to 18+ idk i think i forgot to put that on the other chapters lol 

also requests r open uwu

“What do you mean she’s not coming?” Leo asks, all the bad feelings quickly overtaking him. 

“She said she wanted to sight see more, and that she’d meet us back at camp in a few days,” Jason says, trying to break the news as gently as possible, “I’m sorry, Leo.”

He bit back his heartache.

“Yeah, it’s…” 

The door creaks and their heads turn to you, exiting the front door. 

“Who’s driving?” you ask.

“Jason,” Leo replies. You open the passenger side door, gently place the coffin shaped box on the seat, and buckle it in. You can feel their inquisitive eyes on you, and you counter with a blank, resolute look of your own.

“This one’s special.” 

You notice Leo seems… off. His whole mood seems to have plummeted. Leo reminds you of a buoy. Even in the worst storms, even if he gets caught under a huge wave, he always comes back to the surface. Based on his current vibe, someone nuked the buoy. Wheels turn in your head, and you hand him the trout mailbox. 

“Could you put this in the back?” you direct your words at him, hoping the heat flushing to his cheeks would distract him from whatever made him upset. His hand brushes yours and you can almost feel his heart spasm. You make eye contact at him through your thick, dark eyelashes and he almost chokes. He agrees and you pull Jason aside. 

“What happened?” you hiss. 

“What?” he whispers back.

“What did you tell him to make him all lame?”

“Oh, uh…” he rubs the back of his neck and you shake your head, waiting for an answer, “Calypso’s… not coming back with us.”  You wait in silence for him to keep talking. 

“She said she wanted to see the world more, and she’d meet us back at camp in a few days.” You process this for a second.

“So he’s-” you catch movement out of the corner of your eye, “driving?” you ask Leo, who just came back from the trunk.

“Jason, I mean.” you clarify. He confirms, and you all get in the car - Jason up front, you and Leo in the back. You reach into your bag and hand Jason a cd that says ’fun sad angry music :)’. He stares at you through the rear view mirror. You stare back. You sip your coffee. 

“Well?” you ask, “Are you going to put it in the player or eat it?” His eyes dart to Leo’s. “She gets to choose the music,” he explains. Jason mutters in agreement and fumbles the disk into the slot. A smile spreads on your face as the music plays and he starts to drive. 

Leo watches you as you nod your head and mouth the lyrics. He can tell you love this song. You vibe to the music for a minute before glancing over at Leo. He realizes he’s been staring when you give him an expectant look.

“What.” you ask. 

“Uh, this song is really good,” interest tints your face, and he’s relieved he recovered okay, “what’s it called?” You’re a little surprised he likes it.

“Mr. Doctor Man by Palaye Royale.” You two enjoy the music in silence, Jason focused on the road and GPS directions. A minute later, your curiosity starts to get the better of you. “How far is it?” 

“Not far, a couple hours.” Leo replies.

“Is everyone there all… campfire songs and friendship bracelets? Cause I’ve never been like, a summer camp person,” your eyes flick to the side towards him for a moment, and he can tell you’re listening closely. He smiles a little. 

“So what kind of person are you?”

“I’m more of a… cult documentaries and obscure unsettling 1960’s Czech animations type.” He’d never heard the words “1960’s Czech animations” sound so hot. 

“What about you?”

He paused for a minute. Part of him was deciding how to respond, and the other part was just flattered giggling that she had asked him back. You talk for the next hour or two, Jason chiming in periodically, until he points out that it’s getting dark and you should find somewhere to stay for the night. 

“Okay,” you reply, “pull over at the next truck stop.” 

They’re a little confused, but Jason complies and pulls over at the next gas station/convenience store you come across. They watch you get out of the car without a word and walk into the store. You approach a guy near a soda display. He has on a fedora and a shirt with a kids video game logo on it. He stares at you absolutely transfixed. They can’t hear what you’re saying, but he has a dopey grin on his face and nods his head a lot. Your hand touches his arm gently, and he laughs so loudly (and nervously) they hear it from the car. 

“Do I look that dumb around her?” Leo asks. 

You tilt your head and he blushes and nods again. He hands you something and a second later, you two walk to the counter. The cashier looks up startled, and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. She stares at you for a second, then says something and fumbles with a cellphone you hand her. She hands you a paper a few seconds later. You give the guy his phone back. He walks to an ATM at the corner of the store. He walks over to you, but you’re in front of a display so they can’t see anything until you come back out. You get back in the car and hand Jason a piece of paper and a wad of cash.

“Got us a room at a Best Western like, ten minutes away. And some cash.” 

They stare at you in silence. You lean toward Jason. 

“The room is under your name, Kevin Grossman.” Leo bites back a laugh. 

You finally get to the hotel, and Jason flips on his turn signal to get into the parking lot. “Park at the Walmart over there,” you point a block or two up, “under a light.” He turns his blinker off. 

“Walmart doesn’t care if you park overnight. If someone sees our car at the parking lot of a hotel, we’re just leaving a target on our backs.” you explain. They don’t say anything. 

“You said monsters are after us, right?” 

“Yeah,” Leo said, “good thinking.” Jason agreed and you exit the car, remembering to grab the duffle bag with your clothes and other essentials. You all walk across the street to the hotel. You talk your way through checking in pretty easily. When the hostess asks to see your in app registry you hand her the printed ticket. “His phone died.” you say simply. The three of you are about to head up to your room, when you turn back to reception. You hesitate for a second, before leaning in to the receptionist.

“Can you put us as unlisted?” you ask quietly. 

“Of course,” she replies sincerely, “let me know if you need anything.”

On the way up to your room, you tell Jason and Leo that if anyone asks, you’re not here. They seem impressed. Your room has a small seating area with a couch, coffee table, coat rack, and a phone. Past the half wall are three beds, a desk, a TV, and a doorway you figure leads to the bathroom. You walk into the bathroom and touch the mirror. You notice the space between your finger and reflection, and move on. You call to Leo to turn off the lights. He and Jason share a look. You may be a little weird, and incredibly intimidating, but you haven’t steered them wrong yet. Leo hits the lights, and you said quietly, “Listen for any weird buzzing or beeping noises, and look out for any out of place lights,” you creep around the room very quietly. After a minute you turn the lights back on and look at the ceiling.

“What was that about?” Jason asks.

“Bugs,” you reply, not looking at him, “and not the fun kind,” you mutter. 

“Jason, can you reach that?” you point up at the smoke detector. He looked between you and the device on the ceiling. 

“Don’t think so.” You looked between him and Leo. Your head might hit the ceiling if you Jason gave you a boost, but you could probably access it fine with Leo’s help. 

“Leo,” you said, and he looked up from the wires he was fiddling with, “give me boost,” your gaze not leaving the smoke detector. He agrees, and you get up onto his shoulders. His hands rest just above your knees, and it takes all his focus to not burst into flames. You pop off the cover.

“This doesn’t look weird, right?” you ask him. He looks up and back at your face, hair angled down, and is reminded of the Spiderman kiss. He pushes away the thought and examines the smoke detector. 

“About as non-weird as a smoke detector can look,” he confirms, and helps you down. He’s incredibly impressed that you thought to look for bugs - even he hadn’t thought of that, and he’s a son of Hephaestus. 

“Where did you learn this stuff? The parking lot, being unlisted, checking for bugs?” You half exhale half scoff.

“When almost everyone in a five mile radius constantly wants to get in your pants, they can get… pushy… so you learn some stuff.” You grab your pajamas from your bag and head toward the bathroom. Leo and Jason meet eyes. It made more sense now, why you were always so intimidating. If he got constant unwanted attention, Leo would get pretty prickly, too. 

Once everyone had showered and gotten ready for bed, Jason pointed out someone should IM Chiron, but you were way too tired, and collectively agreed to update him in the morning. 

Right as he’s about to fall asleep, Leo feels like someone’s watching him. He opens his eyes, and sees Calypso’s face. His heart lurches. He pushes himself out of bed and sees the shimmery edges of the iris message. She opens her mouth and he holds a finger to his lips. He moves over to the couch, so he doesn’t wake the others. He sits down nervously.

“Hey, sunshine… I really miss you, what’s-” 

“Look, Leo, I… I can’t do this.” 

His stomach drops. 

He knows what’s happening. He had it coming, he knew that. He knew that this was probably inevitable. Still, that didn’t make it hurt any less. He tries to sputter out something, anything. Why, what, can he do anything to fix this, but he’s too choked up. 

“I need a break from this, from us…” she continues, “there’s so much of the world I haven’t seen yet, and you have your projects… I don’t want to hold myself back because I feel bad that you’re not with me. I want to experience everything.” He feels like he’s falling forward. His eyebrows knit and an unstoppable rush of memories of everyone who’s left him or kicked him out comes flooding back. 

“Calypso,” his voice cracks. He can’t finish the sentence. 

You wake up from the light sleep you had settled into, aware of an unfamiliar voice. You get up, throwing on the short black robe over your pajamas - despite their velvet material, the loose cami and shorts don’t provide much warmth. You tiptoe over to the seating area. Leo’s on the couch, staring at the floor. You walk up behind him and place a hand on his shoulder. 

“You okay?” you ask, your voice foggy with sleep. 

“Who-” you briefly see the unfamiliar voice is coming from a shimmery image of a pissed off girl floating in front of him, but he quickly swipes his hand through, and the image vanishes. He rubs his eyes and his hands come away damp. You stay quiet. You don’t want to make him feel worse. 

“Long day,” he mutters. He stands up and says goodnight without looking at you. You watch him get into bed, and you do the same. Even if you knew what was wrong, there wasn’t much you could do this late at night. You hope some rest makes him feel better, and tell yourself it’ll be dealt with in the morning. 

Maybe over coffee. 

You could use some coffee.

[hypnoticwinter]

Down the Rabbit Hole part 1

It's five in the afternoon just outside of Corpus Christi and I and my poor old Elantra with the broken AC are stuck in a traffic jam because some dickhead decided he wanted to cut across five lanes of traffic and got mangled by a semi truck. And then the jam’s compounded by all of the damn lookie-looes slowing down to a crawl as they squirm through the two lanes still open, the metaphorical arteries of the gigantic beast that is the United States highway system, trying to get a good look at something gory on the way home.

I'm slowly melting into my seat, barely able to keep my eyes open. I keep glancing over at the water bottle I'd set snugly into the passenger seat, my cupholders being full with spare change and old receipts and little mini bottles of hand sanitizer, but just the way the sun's reflecting off of it makes me sick thinking about how warm the water would be by now.

I'm a few cars back from the wreck now. A police officer, looking sweaty and tired, steps out into the road, stopping traffic to let a couple of paramedics cross. A loud radio ad is playing in the car next to me and I look over. The guy in it looks about as done with this as I feel. I smile to myself, go back to watching the wreck.

The paramedics have stopped now and are talking to the policeman in the middle of the road. He looks annoyed, gestures at the cars ahead of him. One of the paramedics shakes his head and points back towards one of the cars.

The radio ad ends and the throbbing beat of Billy Joel's "We Didn't Start the Fire" comes on and I find myself singing along under my breath without even thinking about it.

Harry Truman, Doris Day, Red China, Johnnie Ray

South Pacific, Walter Winchell, Joe DiMaggio...

Another paramedic joins the group in the middle of the highway and then they hustle over to the wreck. The police officer gestures and we move fractionally forwards, then stop again. The asshole in the giant pickup truck ahead of me has decided to stop and watch them peel the door off the crushed sedan like the scab off a fresh cut. I can see something pink and fleshy and hurt-looking inside, where the driver's seat ought to have been, and I look away quickly.

We didn't start the fire

It was always burning since the world's been turning...

I end up meeting the eyes of the guy in the car next to me. He's bobbing his head along to Billy Joel and gives me a somewhat sheepish, embarrassed look. He's balding, looks about forty. A tired, haggard, sweaty face. I roll my eyes and smile at him and he smiles back. Someone behind me honks and I twist backwards and give him the finger, really slam it at him against the dirty rear window. We're rolling forwards so slowly that it's absurd to even honk, just people blowing off steam. I suppose on some level it's equally absurd to give him the finger for it, but whatever.

Lebanon, Charles de Gaulle, California baseball

ARPANET, Free Tibet, what's in Mystery Flesh Pit?

Buddy Holly, Ben Hur, space monkey, Mafia

Hula hoops, Castro, Edsel is a no-go...

Wait. What?

Now that we're past the wreck the highway widens out. More lanes open and the guy next to me merges over to the left. Billy Joel's voice disappears into engine noises and honks and the sound of the wind whipping past my open windows, but I still keep thinking about the lyrics I had just mouthed along to.

What the hell is a Mystery Flesh Pit?

I glance over at the phone sitting in its holster on the dash but something about the way the car I’d just past had crunched in on itself like a discarded candy wrapper makes me think better of it. I shift a lane or two to the right, get in line for my exit, and then I'm off the freeway. I make every light on the way to my apartment, all four of them, and it's just enough time that I forget about the line in the song. I jump into the shower and let the cold water run over me for fifteen minutes, which turns into thirty, which turns into forty-five, which turns into an hour.

When I get out I'm shivering but the warm Texas air blowing through my open window wraps me up like a warm hug, and I shrug into a flannel shirt, leave it unbuttoned. I put my cigarette out, leave it crumpled in the ashtray, stifle my coughs. I’m still not used to smoking this much. I eye the half-empty pack laying on the table but I let it alone.

The letter I received yesterday is on the kitchen table where I'd dropped it. The envelope is still on the floor somewhere. I think about going back and reading it again, or going and finding the envelope and throwing it away, but I don't want to. There wouldn’t be a point.

My phone buzzes; I see the name of the contact and let it ring. I don’t want to talk to him.

Outside, down in the courtyard, an old man is taking his dog for a walk. There is a vast darkened array of clouds closing in from the east and it already smells like rain, the wind is carrying it. I might take a walk too, later tonight.

I go back to the dresser and take my shirt off, slip a bra on, and then put the shirt back on. I almost light another cigarette, then I stop myself.

What the hell is Mystery Flesh Pit?

I had almost forgotten. Almost, but not quite. Billy Joel got stuck in my head and while I'd been puttering I'd hummed along until I got to that verse.

I shake my head and go get my laptop, type it into google half-expecting to find a porn site. A few travelogue type posts, a Wikipedia page...I click on that one and get hit with a redirect. Permian Basin Superorganism Containment Area? ("Mystery Flesh Pit" redirects here. For the defunct U.S. National Park, see...)

I read the page, and then I stop. The growing sense of unease I felt while I devoured the Wikipedia article is now almost too much for me to handle.

This can't possibly be real. This has to be a prank or something, some kind of internet joke gone out of control. I click on the link to the National Park and see pictures, too many and too high quality to be faked. It's like something out of a Michael Crichton novel but it's real. It has to be.

The Permian Basin Superorganism (Immanis Collosseus), I read, is a subterranean organism unique to modern biology, being the sole occupant of the Phylum Immanemqa. The organism was discovered by a pilot well drilling crew in 1973; later efforts were made to expose more of the organism through drilling and surface mining explosives. The Permian Basin Superorganism is notable for its immense size, being the largest living animal on the planet, its equally immense age, and for the degree and sophistication of human exploitation concerning the animal, culminating in the opening of a National Park largely within the creature’s body, allowing visitors to descend within the Permian Basin Superorganism and…

I read about gullets and bones and digestion, about an ancient animal of some kind living baked into the stone and earth outside of Gumption, Texas. I read about the sheer enormity of it, I read about how a mining company turned it into a tourist attraction, splitting its throat wide open with metal retaining walls and letting people ride an elevator a thousand feet down into its insides. I read about ballast, some kind of secretion exuded by the creature that acts as a kind of panacea, healing afflictions untouchable by conventional medicine. They made great baths out of the glands that produced it, let people bathe in its diluted aphrodisiac waters. I read, finally, about the 2007 disaster that closed the park, when a pump failed to activate and drowned the thing, making it wake up – god, wake up? – and swallow almost seven hundred people, making it spew caustic vomit so high into the air that there are still pockets of it being found here and there nearly a hundred miles away, burning into the ground and poisoning water tables. And the way they managed to get it to go back to sleep is classified by the US Government. Did they nuke it? Christ, Gumption is only...okay, well, it's about five hundred miles away, so I guess I'm a little less concerned, but, god, this happened in the same state as me and this is only the first time I'm hearing about it. July Fourth, 2007...

I realize after a moment, with a strange little knot in my stomach, that actually, I did hear about it. I wasn't in the state in 2007. It was four years ago, I'd just gotten out of school and I was still in Oklahoma, but I remember my parents telling me about an earthquake at midnight that they'd felt, that woke them up, knocked a couple of things over. I had never known...

I feel a little like I've just woken up and gone to the bathroom and looked outside and all of a sudden the sky is a bright green, and everybody I ask about it just looks at me really strangely and says that it's always been green.

I google my way all over the internet, looking at photos people have taken decades ago on their family trips, hosted on filesharing sites or on ancient GeoCities-era pages. I see smiling families, people in hiking gear, people swimming inside biological hot springs, people digging pitons into great sheer walls of flesh, not minding the blood that gushes out. I see a shaky video someone's taken of their television, of CNN back on the Fourth of July, 2007, I see a vast bloody pit, carved into the great flat nothing of central Texas.

I feel like my head is spinning. I get up, get away from the computer, grab another cigarette and smoke it slowly, standing on the balcony, looking out over the sprawling cityscape in the general direction of Gumption, Texas, or at least where I think it should be. If north is that way, then…

Alright. It's real. There's enough evidence, photographs, videos, spread across so many different web sites that it would be impossible to fake. I look up an old rating list of National Parks, making sure that it's from around 2004 or so, and find Mystery Flesh Pit near the bottom. The tiny two-sentence blurb describes it as "strange," "horrifying," and "easily skippable," so I guess that could also explain why I had never heard of it.

And, of course, the ballast. Some kind of miracle liquid. I read on Wikipedia that they’d tried to synthesize it after July 4th, after the supplies had been cut off, but no matter how molecularly perfect they could make the compound it was so much drossy bathwater, without the power to cure even a hangnail. It has to come straight from the source for it to be any good - who knows why.

There is a slow, anxious curl unwinding in my stomach, and for a moment, I fear the results it may lead me to.

I look at the map I'd opened in another tab again; Gumption, Texas; a tiny little county named after a tiny little town, or so I've heard. Now that I’m thinking about it, I vaguely remember passing through Gumption once, very briefly, during a family road trip back when I was six, but I don't remember much more than that. The only reason I even recognize the name of the town is because at the time I thought it was a funny name and I kept saying it to myself after I'd asked my mom what the word on the sign meant when we drove into town. Welcome to Gumption. Did it have more, perhaps? “Home of the Mystery Flesh Pit?” I don't remember visiting the Mystery Flesh Pit National Park, that's for sure. I think that would have stuck with little six-year-old me.

I eye the scale on the map, use my fingers to estimate the distance from Corpus Christi to Gumption.

It'd be a solid day of driving, seven or eight hours on the road, not counting breaks for food, sleep, restroom. I grimace at the computer screen, then zoom the map out. Lubbock, though...I could take a plane to Lubbock. That'd be, what, like two hours? Maybe? And then rent a car, drive down to Gumption...

I swallow, then laugh at myself. Why bother? I think. Why bother driving down to look at some fences and security guards? It's closed off, the Wikipedia page said, nobody in or out, just some scientists and a sedative plant. The fun stopped when it woke up, back in ‘07.

Flights are cheap. Ninety-nine dollars, ninety-five dollars. I start to type in the address to check my bank balance, then stop, fold the computer closed. I want a cigarette.

On my way out to the window my foot brushes against the envelope I'd left discarded on the floor and again I think of picking it up and putting it away, and again I leave it there. It doesn't really matter.

It'd be a horrible waste of money, probably. And I doubt I'd find anything really meaningful. Even if, you know, I use the excuse of going and looking around so I could write a story on it or something, I don't know if Jim, my editor, would really care that much. From what it seems, Mystery Flesh Pit is ancient history.

I take another look at the sheet of paper sitting on the table, curled over on itself like a dead spider. Fuck it, I think, then repeat myself out loud. I stub out the cigarette and go retrieve my cell phone, look up the phone number for American Airlines out of Corpus Christi airport. Fifteen minutes on hold later I am the proud owner of one business class ticket to Lubbock, Texas, leaving in four hours out of gate nine. I hang up the call and say "fuck it" aloud again because it makes me feel a little better, and then I go pack.

The plane ride is okay. Security was a bear and a half but it always is. I realized from the pleasant-unnerving swooping sensation in my stomach when we took off that it had been long enough since the last time I'd been on a plane that I had forgotten what it feels like. I was lucky to grab a window seat next to a little kid and his father; they didn't bother me as much as I'd expected. Once he turned to me to show me something on the handheld video game he was playing but his father quickly intercepted him and apologized to me; I was a little put out, honestly, I would have wanted to look at it. I'd forgotten to stick a book in my carry-on so I had been stuck staring out the window, and about a half hour in the plane had angled in such a way that the setting sun was glaring me right in the face and daring me to enjoy the scenery, so I did the most sensible thing I could and closed the shutter and tried to fall asleep. I think I managed to do so about fifteen minutes before we landed, which lead to me letting out a rather embarrassing yelp when the landing jolted me awake. The kid and his dad looked at me and I blushed, mentally kicking myself for blushing, but I smiled at them and shrugged and said that I'd fallen asleep and we had a laugh about it.

Lubbock is alright, I guess, if you don’t look at it too closely or stay too long. I rent a car at the airport and drive into town, and consider driving to Gumption that night, but I decide after some deliberation that it'll be better to do a little reconnaissance here first, if I really am going to make a story out of this. Am I? I've been treating that as my excuse so far and yeah, I brought my voice recorder and my camcorder and my DSLR and plenty of memory cards and extra batteries...but I guess I hadn't really taken it seriously.

The city's very alive at night, more so, it seems to me, than Corpus Christi, but I also don't get out very much back home, so maybe my perception is skewed. Everywhere I look there are clubs and shows and bars and things, and then, as I pass into the seedier areas, huddled groups of people spotted here and there. I imagine they’re eying me as I drive past and I tamp down the little curl of fear rising in my stomach.

I find a Motel 6 and then I try to find a Waffle House, but seemingly there aren’t any in Lubbock. I settle for someplace called The Pancake House, and then in a couple of hours I feel better, and then a couple of hours after that I finally manage to fall asleep.

I wake up having slept like the dead. I think about going someplace for breakfast but think better of it after I sit up too quickly and my stomach gives an uneasy lurch in protest. I get dressed leisurely – it is my weekend, after all. For a moment I even manage to fantasize that I'll be able to catch a flight home in time to make it to work on Monday but then I laugh at myself, which I seem to be doing quite a lot of lately.

Barely a hundred miles away, Mystery Flesh Pit is waiting for me. I don't know what I'll find there – personally, I feel rather certain it'll be a hell of a let-down – but it feels nice to have a purpose for once, to feel as though my life is being put to some kind of use other than to see how many cigarettes I can smoke in a single day and still retain some dignity.

It's nice to not have to think.

I take a breath and throw some clothes on and get started on the hard part.

 * * *

 The guy mopping the floor at the bus stop:

"Excuse me, sir? Do you know anything about the Mystery Flesh Pit Disaster of 2007?"

"The what?"

 Businessman on the street, approached while tying his shoes:

"Excuse me, sir? I'm doing some research on the Mystery Flesh Pit disast –"

"I'm sorry, lady, I don't have any money."

 Lady at the counter of the pharmacy:

"Excuse me, ma'am? I'm trying to find out some information on the Mystery Flesh Pit, do you have a moment to talk about it?"

"Sure, honey, but I'm afraid I don't know that much about it. That was back in, what, 2003? 2004?"

"2007, actually. Did you ever happen to visit while the park was still operating?"

 "It was a park? I just remember something about some sort of tunnel collapse."

"Right. Thanks for your time."

 Guy at the 7-11, asked while filling up the tank on my car next to him:

"Hey, dude, you know anything about the Mystery Flesh Pit?"

"Went there once when I was a kid. Pretty cool. Why?"

"I'm a reporter, doing a story on it. You remember the disaster that closed it down?"

"It's closed now? That's lame. What happened?"

"Thing woke up and ate everybody."

"For real?"

"Yeah. I've been asking around, like nobody's heard about it. Kind of surprising."

He taps his finger to his chin. "You know," he says thoughtfully, "it has been like five years since then."

"Four years."

"Even so. People don't have any kind of attention span any more."

His pump clicks off and so does our conversation.

 Yeah, alright, maybe it isn't a very representative group, but it seems like nobody cares. Is that reasonable? Well...seven hundred plus people died, most in pretty gruesome ways, according to Wikipedia. Then there were the, god, the thousand or ten-thousand-plus people affected by the vomit and ejecta scattered hundreds of miles away. I’m not sure. You'd expect that apathy from the rest of the nation, maybe, I don't know why somebody in Arkansas or Kentucky or Illinois or wherever would give a fuck if they didn't personally know somebody who was affected, but here? Just a hundred miles from the place or so?

Maybe they did a really good job of cleaning up the cities, maybe it's only the little towns and places where the legacy of it has really clung on. I know there has to be a story, somebody who was there, somebody who saw it. That jerky camcorder video of CNN is a start, but something real, something visceral, in the words of a survivor...

That was the one thing I didn’t find much of. No memoirs, no autobiographies, just a few mentions here and there but nothing like a back-to-front story of what that night was like. That is what I’m really after.

I put my cigarette out in one of those trashcan-cum-ashtrays that dot the corners of every city I've ever been to, Lubbock no exception. I get in the rental car and again forget that it has crank windows instead of buttons. "To the library, and step on it," I giggle to myself as I pull out into traffic. I feel a little lightheaded and I remember that I never bothered to eat anything.

Perusal of the newspaper archives at the Mahon Public Library downtown confirmed what I'd already assumed – that there was no big government coverup, there was no conspiracy of that sort. The disaster at the Mystery Flesh Pit was capital-letter Very Big News for about a month, back in 2007, at least in the area. The stories towards the end of the month cast a little light on why it didn't last, though – it wasn't ongoing, it was just sort of a one-and-done thing. Yeah, finding the caustic vomit everywhere kicked up another stink a week or so later but the Powers That Be seemed to get that under control fairly quickly, at least in more populated areas. After that there were grumblings about disclosure and fault and blame and all that, and quite a few articles about Anodyne Mining or whoever going bankrupt but by the end of the month, aside from a few overly sentimental memorial pieces dedicated to delicately sidestepping the exact causes of death of the people they were memorializing, the news had moved on.

A librarian pokes around the corner with a cart and smiles at me; I smile back at her. She's young, pretty, long skirt, dark eyes. I scoot forward so she can pass behind me. I read on for a while, the faint swish of her skirt and the slim sliding sound of books going back into shelves registering dimly and pleasantly in the back of my mind. I put the paper down and stretch a little, and then I notice she's glancing over at me. I smile at her again.

"Doing some research?" she asks, and I nod.

"Yes," I say. "I'm a reporter for a paper in Corpus Christi and I'm doing a story on the Mystery Flesh Pit. Have you heard of it?"

As soon as the words pass my lips there's something dark and guarded lurking in her eyes that makes me perk my ears up. She waits a couple of seconds before she answers, clearly thinking of what to say, of how much to tell me. I mention, after a moment, that I'm surprised that so few people here in Lubbock seem to really remember it or care about it, and she nods, leans up against her cart.

"It was a big deal for a while," she says, gesturing to the stack of papers next to me, "but after that I guess it just wasn't exciting any more. The only people who really remember it are out in all the small towns where it really affected them. Here, in Lubbock, they just had vans working overtime to clean everything up and then it was easy to forget about. Every now and then I hear about them finding another pile of that vomit somewhere just...festering away out there in the desert."

"Were you there?"

"No," she says, "but my brother was."

"I'm sorry," I tell her. I want to reach out and touch her or something but I don't know if she'd appreciate it, so instead I keep my sympathy subdued. "Is he - ?"

"No, no," she says quickly, "he's alright. He was a park ranger there, he just…happened to be working that night. He, ah...it really fucked him up for a while," she says finally, giving me a grimace. "We haven't talked in a long time."

"I'm sorry," I say again. "That must have been hard, for both of you."

"Yeah," she says, cutting her glance downwards. "He always said some strange things about the disaster, real Alex Jones type stuff. But he just couldn't, you know, move on at all. We got in a big fight about it and, well, that was that."

I wonder what to say for a moment before I cross my legs, set the newspapers aside. "You must have gone there, then, while it was still operating."

"Yes, plenty of times."

"What was it like?"

She laughs softly. "God, that's such a...like, where do I even begin, you know? Have you been to many other National Parks?"

"A few," I tell her. "Not as many as I'd have liked. Crater Lake, Devil's Tower, Badlands, Petrified Forest..."

She laughs. "Real Midwest girl, aren't you?"

"Hey, Crater Lake is in Oregon, that's not the Midwest."

"I wasn't knocking it. Um. Well, it wasn't like any other park you've ever been to, I can guarantee that. It was like, you drive up to it and you park and you walk up these stairs to get to the main observatory building, and you get in there and you look down and there's just...skin. In a hole in the ground. It was extremely disconcerting. From that distance it didn't look real, it looked like it was plasticine or something, like it was a model. And there was something...I don't know, kind of lewd about it?"

"Lewd?"

"Yeah. The way they were spreading it open with these giant metal, like, flanges or whatever, and how it was all raw and pink around the opening...Freud would have had a field day with it. Made you feel like you were watching a gynecological exam."

"I still kind of can't believe they found this thing and thought opening a theme park was the best thing to do with it."

"It was the 70s, I guess." she shrugs. "Place is old, you know. Anyway, once you actually got down into it, it was...it was an experience. You rode this giant elevator down and they had a massive visitor center something like 1200 feet down inside the thing's throat, and you could look out the windows and see all this flesh outside. It was honestly like something out of a movie, it was so surreal. I went there a bunch of times with my brother cause he got an employee discount and I could get in for five dollars and I saw at least ten people have panic attacks and hyperventilate."

I think about my next question for a moment. "Would you say overall that it was, you know, a negative thing? Like, the park on the whole."

"No, absolutely not."

"Why's that?"

She licks her lips. "I think that it's really easy to forget how small we are. We've done all these great things, we've built civilizations, we've put people on the moon, we're exploring the bottom of the ocean, I think humanity in general likes to think that we have everything figured out." She shrugs. "The Mystery Flesh Pit is a really good reminder that we know basically nothing. I mean, they were studying it but they knew practically nothing about it, not how big it was, not whether there were more creatures like it elsewhere in the world, not where it came from, not even if it was awake or if it could move or what the thing looked like as a whole. I think what they ended up doing with it was stupid as hell, but as far as the experience of actually going down inside of it and walking around on a trail and, I don't know, watching macrobacteria roll past outside the fence or seeing something really weird moving around down there and seeing the park ranger guiding you not know what it is either, that's an experience I genuinely wish everybody got to have. It'll change your life."

"How did it change yours?"

She laughs. "Besides, you know, everything with the disaster and my brother and all that shit? Just going down there really made me realize who I was."

"How, exactly?"

She shakes her head. "Like I said, I figured out just how small I was and how – I don't know, how insignificant we really are. These days whenever I get worried or bothered or I stress out over something I think about standing there in the elevator looking up through the glass ceiling and watching the light get smaller and dimmer, like I was falling into a bottomless pit, and I find peace."

"Seems like an odd way to find peace."

"Different strokes, right? Anyway. I really ought to put these books away. Was there anything else you wanted to know?"

I think about it for a moment, then shrug. "I'm planning on heading down to Gumption tomorrow, aside from the pit itself is there anything else I ought to check out?"

She lets out a low whistle. "I think you're going to be very disappointed. They don't let anybody go to the Pit any more, it's all sealed off, has been for years. And Gumption, well...that town has seen better days. I'll give you a tip, though, even though maybe I shouldn't. Look for my brother there, I know he still lives in town. I can't give you his number or his address, unfortunately, because I don't have them any more, but I know for a fact that he works at the only gas station in town, a 7/11, so ask around there and you'll be able to find him. His name's Peter; I'd tell you to tell him I sent you but I kind of get the feeling that might not get you very far."

I thank her for the tip and set the newspapers aside. If I head out tonight I might be able to get some good shots of the fence around Mystery Flesh Pit. I think of it, of the sunset, then discard the thought. Forget it. I'll need a whole day to really dig into it, I think. And more's the better. I have plenty of batteries, I have plenty of storage. Easy girl, there's no rush. Assuming they let me just walk up and start filming, but if I really hype myself up I can half-believe I could talk my way into at least getting some shots of the fence, at the very least.

"Oh, and one last thing."

I blink, look back up at her. She has a faint smile on her face, probably from watching me zone out, that fades quickly. "Don't stay in Gumption too long."

 * * *

 The drive down to Gumption is dusty and hot and boring. I get about halfway before I realize I'm not driving my poor old Hyundai, I'm driving a rental car, and that it has a functional air conditioner, and then I feel very silly, for though the wind certainly felt nice on the whole I would have much rather just rolled the windows up and sat in the cool air. I see a grand total of four other cars, all coming from Gumption, on the two-hour drive. It's mostly a straight shot but my phone tells me to take a county road that turns into just a dirt track towards the end that, after a little meandering, plops me out onto a back street of Gumption, Texas.

The research I'd done suggests that at one point Gumption had been a bustling little town, fuelled by the Pit’s tourist draw, and initially its size would indicate that it still is. But as I drove slowly through the empty streets, the general air of disrepair and decay became more and more apparent. I see a couple abandoned houses, and not the foreclosed sort with realtor's signs out front, but straight-up shattered-glass, boarded-windows, holes-in-the-roofs abandoned. The ones that weren't just looked sad, like no one was taking care of them properly. The cars parked on the street are all at least five or six years old, as best as I can tell. I see only two people out and about while I'm driving around at 15 miles an hour, getting some video footage, cruising down the middle of the road, eyes flicking between the empty street ahead and the screen on my camera. One, a youngish-looking black guy, keeps his head down and doesn't look at me, and the other, an old man in a wifebeater mowing his lawn, stares at me all the way down the street, until I turn the corner and pull onto the main road.

There's the 7/11. I'm tempted to head to it right away but I refrain, look for a diner or something, but the ones around look about as welcoming as the rest of the place. There's a McDonald's but it's so small it doesn't even have a drive-through, which is something I'd never seen before. There's a drug store and a liquor store and one of those tiny little storefront churches, something something Starry Wisdom. I think about going to McDonald's but instead I pull a u-turn and head back to the gas station. The clerk, a haggard-looking woman, doesn't look up from her magazine when I walk in. I wander to the back and grab a Coke out of the fridge unit. The credit-card reader is broken so I have to dig around in my wallet and find some bills. The entire exchange continues without any speech at all until I work up my nerve and lick my lips and ask her if there's a hotel around here somewhere.

She looks at me for a few moments and then jerks her head towards the road. Her voice sounds like a frog croaking. "There's a motel down the road a ways. When you pull out take a left and turn at Third street."

"Thanks."

"No problem."

"By the way."

"Yeah?"

"Can you tell me when Peter works?"

I had to think for a moment to remember his name. I have it written down in a notebook but it's out in the car. Her eyes flash a little more lively. "Who's asking?"

I think of what to say for a moment before I shrug. "A friend."

For a moment I think she's going to tell me to fuck off, but something in my face must have convinced her. "He's off today. Come in tomorrow at eight or nine at night, he'll be here. He works graveyard most days."

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it."

I walk out the door and the heat hits me like a thrown punch. I blow a breath out and lean up against the rough cinderblock edge of the gas station building and drink my Coke.

It's four in the afternoon and it'll take me maybe half an hour to drive down to the Mystery Flesh Pit. It'll be cooler, too, in the evening, and if this town is any indication I doubt there'll be much of a line. I wonder where the people who work there live; maybe they have a dormitory there or something. Clearly they don't live here. Maybe there's some little patch of suburbs somewhere, behind those hills over there, perhaps, where all the people are, but it's four in the afternoon and I've seen a grand total of three other cars driving around, so maybe not.

The guy at the motel gives me a nicer greeting than the lady at the 7-11 did, although not by much; at least I get a few dirty molars of a smile out of him as he hands me the key to my room. I had to wake him up from his nap at the front desk in order to get the room to begin with, and though I tried to do so as gently as I could he still started and almost fell out of his chair.

"Here for the Pit?" he asks as I'm about to leave, and I turn back, glance at him.

"Yeah," I say after a moment. "Just going to see what's there now."

"You're heading over now?"

"Yes."

"Huh," he grunts after a moment. "Most of you folks don't do that 'till dark."

I frown. "Us folks?"

"You know, you..." his eyes roam over my face and his mouth drops open very slightly. "Oh," he says heavily. "Never mind."

"What?"

"Nothing, ma'am. Now if you'll excuse me –"

"Wait, hang on –"

"You have a good day now, ma'am."

He disappears into the back room and I stand there, glaring at the door as it swings shut, key still looped around my finger. I have half a mind to vault the desk and head back there and demand to know what the hell he was talking about, but I take a deep breath and let it out. What could he have meant? Maybe he thinks I work over at the Flesh Pit or something, although that wouldn't explain why they only head over after dark...that doesn't make sense. Tourists, maybe? But that doesn't make sense either.

I chew on my lip for a little while and then shake my head, push the door open and let the heat swallow me up again. There's no sense brooding on it; the only thing to do is to move forward.

 * * *

 The drive down to Mystery Flesh Pit is, if it were possible, even hotter and more boring than the drive down to Gumption. The heat is pounding on the window and begging me to let it in so I turn up the AC, trying to drown it out, but it's no use. No matter where I put my arm the sun is pouring down on me, and if I leave it still for more than a moment I get that unpleasant prickling sensation that tells me I'm starting to burn already. I've already got a pretty terrible driver's tan from the ride down but this is just overkill.

No cars pass me on the long road that my phone assures me is the way to the Permian Basin Superorganism Containment Corporation. It's only wide enough for one so if someone did come by someone's going off the road. Hopefully not me, as this rental Toyota is not built for that sort of thing. It's already been complaining at me creakily and jostling me around. I'll have to get it a car wash or something when I get back to Lubbock, whenever that ends up being. I didn't read over the rental contract very closely but I'm pretty sure if I bring it back this dusty there's some kind of fee.

You can see the outline of the plant, growing larger up ahead. It looks unassuming, exactly like any other indecipherable cluster of industrial buildings you'd see along the side of the highway, all greyish-white, tubes and pipes and tanks and corrugation, warning signs and fences and barbed wire, power lines and scaffolding and light poles, all clustering out of the ground like mushrooms after a cold rain. The guard in the gatehouse is watching me as I pull up, but I turn off the road, turning the car around so I'll be ready to go whenever I need to, well away from the road so anyone trying to get in or out can get by without any trouble.

The sign on the fence broadly proclaims that this is the site of the Permian Basin Recovery and Superorganism Containment Corporation, and says that the administration building is to the right, along with the barracks, infirmary, commissary, and so on.

I get out, shut the car door, take my camcorder with me. I keep it on but held low, taking a shot of my feet. I wander up to the gatehouse and the guard steps out, hand on the butt of his pistol, resting loose but confident. He has an MP helmet on and I wonder whether the National Guard is in charge of security or something, and then I wonder if I'm about to get got for trespassing. Surely there'd be more of a commotion if I was, right?

The guard has a sharp face but disconcertingly watery eyes. "Hi," I tell him.

"This area's off-limits to civilians, ma'am," he tells me.

"I'm not trying to get in," I assure him. "I'm a journalist, I just want to take some photos. Is that okay?"

He relaxes a little, points up and down the fence. "Right now," he says, "you're on public land. You go over that fence, you're trespassing on Federal land. Understand?"

"Yessir," I grunt, reflexively. Some old habits never die.

"You can take photos of whatever you like except for people inside the fence, understand? Before you leave I will check your camera."

"Yessir."

"Any questions?"

"Can I take a photo of you?"

"Am I inside the fence?"

"No."

"Then yes, you can."

I bring my DSLR up, snap a picture of him. He gives me a cheesy grin. I look at the display and then back up at him. "You blinked."

"Better take another."

I do so. "You know," I say to him, "this is a much more civil interaction than I expected it to be."

He pauses, halfway back to the guardhouse, to shrug at me. "You're just lucky that the government doesn't also own the land around the park. On most military bases it's like that, you know, they own a hundred-foot radius out from the fence, but here it's different."

"Cause it used to be a National Park?"

"I believe so."

"Do I have to stay in your sight or anything?"

He shakes his head. "No, there are cameras. Just make sure you don't touch the fence, it's electric."

I look at the sign on the fence again; I'd sort of skimmed over it before but a few more things catch my eye this time, especially the bright red one proclaiming that it's charged to 10,000 volts. I whistle. "Y'all really don't want people getting in, huh?"

"It's dangerous."

"So I've heard. Want to do an interview?"

"Can't do that, ma'am. What paper are you with?"

"Corpus Christi Star-Tribune."

He raises his eyebrows. "You're a long way from home. What brings you down to Gumption County?"

I briefly explain what got me interested in the Mystery Flesh Pit and he nods. "Lot of people seem to have forgotten about this place. It's for the best, I'd say."

"Care to elaborate?"

"No, ma'am," he says, but not unkindly. "I can't talk to reporters."

"Come on," I wheedle. "Who'd know?"

"We're on camera," he repeats.

"Fair enough," I shrug.

He gets back in the guardhouse and I run a hand through my hair and turn my attention to the fence. I take a shot of the gates, of the fence, of the signs on the fence, of the great bulging buildings visible through the fence. I get a nice one of the fence extending along into the horizon, a great metal wall bisecting the flat, hot plain of West Texas earth, extending into infinity, it seems, a shimmer of heat distortion bubbling off of it down in the distance. I get another good one of the sun dipping downwards behind the plant, swallowed by it, casting shadows across my face, long spidery ones that scrape the ground. Then, once I'm at about fifty-percent capacity on my memory card, I put the camera away and sit there on the trunk of the car, kicking my heels idly against the gravelly ground, taking it all in. I read the sign again and I call out to the guard. After a moment he comes out of the gatehouse again.

"What is it?" he asks.

"What's that sign mean?" I ask him, pointing to it. He turns, looks at it.

"I don't think it's very ambiguous," he tells me, and I roll my eyes.

"No, I'm serious. What the hell does it mean? 'Over 500 people die each year attempting to commune with the Organism?' What does that - ?"

"Ma'am, I really can't talk about it."

I look at him carefully but he seems serious, and the sign, well...it's a sign on an electric fence on federal property, so surely it's serious as well. I turn my camera back on and snap a photo of it, then I realize that there's a bit of background noise, coming slowly closer. It's the rumbling of an engine.

There, down the road, is an unmarked white Econoline van. It flashes its brights at me and I step out of the road, let it pass by, while the guard at the gate straightens his uniform. It pulls up to the gate and the guard leans in. He and the driver have a brief conversation before the guard steps back and reaches into the booth to open the gate. The gate opens but the driver of the van sticks his head out, looks back at me. He has a jowly, bristly face, about two five-o'clock shadows away from a beard, and a large bald spot.

"And you, what are you doing here?" he calls, and I get up, a little surprised to be addressed so abruptly. The guard comes out in a hurry, shaking his head.

"Sir," he starts, but the guy in the van isn't having any of it.

"Shut up for a second," he says. "Lady, what're you doing out here?"

"I'm –"

"Sir, you really shouldn't –"

"Look, lady," he says, gesturing me closer. "Things don't have to go this way. There've been a lot of advances with medical technology that can really help you out with those urges. There's –"

"Urges?" I ask. I get a prickly feeling all up and down my spine, like I'm hearing something I ought not to.

"Sir," the guard says, urgently now, "she's a reporter."

The man's mouth snaps shut so quickly he might as well have been a cartoon character. He flushes an angry red and glares at the guard as though he wants to say something but he just ducks his head back through the window of the car and drives through the gate, which closes after him. I shake my head.

"I suppose," I say after a moment, "that you aren't going to tell me what he meant?"

"Not a chance."

"Well," I say, getting up and stretching, "it's been fun."

"You have a good night now."

"Am I going to get a visit from the Men in Black at my hotel room later?"

"I wouldn't worry about that."

"Riiiight." I waggle my eyebrows at him. "That's exactly what they'd want me to think."

He laughs. "Good luck," he tells me.

"I get the feeling I'll need it."

"You’ll be fine," he says after a moment, but I do not feel reassured.

 * * *

 I drive back to Gumption with the setting sun blazing in my rearview mirror. It slips out of view entirely and coats the sky in dusky purples that quickly fade to black, and then it's the figurative middle of the night. One-handed I manage to wriggle a cigarette out of the pack on the seat next to me and transfer it to my mouth and then feel around for my lighter, and then I groan and pull over. The guy at the rental desk at the airport had seen the pack of cigarettes in my hand while I was filling out the paperwork and told me very strictly that I had better not smoke in the car and I, of course, had managed to forget completely. It's a good thing I remembered before I lit up.

The night is cold but not unbearably so. I spend a long time there, leaning against the trunk of my car, cigarette in my hand but forgotten momentarily, staring up at the sky. There's so little light pollution out here that I can see what feels like all of the stars, practically, great scattered dustings of them sweeping across the whole of the night sky like someone had tossed them there. There's the Big Dipper, there's Orion, there's the Little Dipper... I think that bright one is Mars, maybe, it looks a little reddish. And that cluster there must be the Pleiades.

I take a breath and blow it out and realize exactly how tired I am. It's somewhere lurking in the back of my skull, right behind my eyes, coiled around my neck. If I closed my eyes I'd probably be able to fall asleep out here, right on the hood of the car.

I crack my neck and wince. The moon's bright and full tonight, at least, so I can still see the barren terrain all around me.

I consider the cigarette for a moment before I throw it to the ground and crush it out. I don't normally litter, really, I swear, but the exhaustion creeping over me is making me not care.

There's a long drainage ditch along the side of the road here, terminating in one of those white-concrete tunnels disappearing into the dirt, its mouth wide enough to swallow me whole if I felt like going down there. I stifle a yawn, kick a rock down into the ditch, and traipse around the side of the car, get in and start it up. From where I parked it, the headlights angle downward enough to reveal a sliced-pie cut of the inside of the tunnel and there, inside it, I see for only the briefest second a pale, wide-eyed face staring at me, along with a dark-jacketed body and a hand, curled there on the floor of the tunnel like a spider before, in a flash, the man retreats into the darkness deeper in the tunnel and is gone.

I can feel my heart beating out of my chest and I realize my mouth has dropped open. Real animal fear has seized me and my rational mind cannot jerk back the reins. I put the car into gear, fumbling first and sticking it in neutral, and then push the pedal all the way to the floor and roar off into the dark.

I was very lucky that there was no one trying to get to Mystery Flesh Pit that night, for I probably would have flipped the car trying to go around them. The closer I get to Gumption, the slower I drive, until finally I manage to get myself to stop the car just outside of town. I pull over again and get out, curling my lip at my shaking hands, and light up another cigarette.

It was just a homeless guy, hiding in a drainage ditch. I probably spooked the fuck out of him, pulling up right there on top of him and hanging out. He must be wondering what the fuck I was doing out there. Probably scared him more than he scared me.

Why did I wig out so bad anyway? I like to think I've got a pretty good nerve. Well, stress is a good excuse, I guess. Or perhaps it's because he was simply hiding down there, unknown, unnoticed, the whole time I was sitting there on the hood of the car, completely oblivious. He could have rushed out and attacked me, if he'd had the guts to, and I wouldn't have been able to do anything about it.

I take another drag at the cigarette and glare up at the stars again. Ursa Major, Orion, Pleiades. Sometimes, when it's quiet like this, I allow myself to think about what the coming year, or possibly years, if I'm lucky, will be like.

Whatever.

I crush the cigarette out and drive back into town, head back to my motel room. I feel better once I've showered and put on some shorts. I get into bed and pull the covers up, and even though they're the scratchy, weird-feeling covers used in seemingly every cheap motel in America, regardless of location, I drift off to sleep easily enough.

Continue with Part 2

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[real-jaune-isms]

RWBY Volume 8 Chapter 12 Review/Remix: Creation

For only having a couple major set pieces, this was one of the most plot dense chapters we’ve ever seen from this show. Some of those were a lot time coming and satisfying as hell, and some came right out of nowhere to massive speculation and theorizing to follow. But goddamn if I didn’t love every minute of it, so let’s mosey on through to see just why that is.

We open, as many of these chapters have been want to do, with shots of the Grimm causing chaos and destruction, in this case Teryx attacking airships. JNR fly by in a ship of their own, and looking rather concerned as they approach Atlas Academy. Why the shot was framed quite like this I’m not totally sure, because it looks like they’re approaching the city itself from quite far away when really they should have been approaching from the outskirts and flying over the city itself, considering where the Schnee estate is located. Ironwood is waiting for Penny at the landing site at the entrance to the Academy, just as he and Ruby had agreed on, and he’s got a new toy. Both pistols of Due Process have been slotted into the back sides of a larger firearm, a veritable hand cannon that needs both grips just to keep steadily aimed. I think it’s safe to call this the Gun-gun we had been joking would be coming eventually since the early Volumes. The Ace Ops are backing him up, and we see a few Atlesian Knight robots loading the bomb onto an airship so he can nuke Mantle at a moment’s notice just as he warned. The citizens of Mantle are out of the mines and looking very apprehensive about the whole thing, and we are right there with them. Just as the bots have finished loading the bomb and are about to leave they start getting shot down. Ironwood warns the Ace Ops to be ready for any altered state Penny might be in and any trouble her friends might try to cause. Harriet is all to ready to follow through on the general’s terms and put down any brat who tries to interfere, and this whole thing seems to finally give Vine pause. He’s not stopping now, how can he, but he’s reflecting on the path to get here and only now has some amount of remorse about it. Elm winces at the mention of that too, while my MCU fan mind had to stop and chuckle at a pale bald man with energy powers musing on philosophy and ethics so close after the end of WandaVision. Not intentional, obviously, but a great coincidence. Ironwood gets a ping that there are intruders in the hangar, and they all surmise that’s Robyn and Qrow trying to interfere with the bombing. Harriet is ready as hell for a chance to beat them bloody after all this time STILL believing they’re Clover’s killers, but Elm makes a good point that they can’t just leave to do that because Ironwood will need backup here. Lucky for all of them, Winter is here to provide the general just that, so the other three are free to deal with their fugitive problem. With a quiet moment between them, Winter tries to see if Ironwood can be talked down one last time. He doesn’t want to hear it, and she admits she knows it would be impossible to try.

Penny soars in and lands in front of them, surrendering herself to a pair of cuffs and surprising Ironwood a bit in actually coming alone. She says she’s obeying his order because above all she wants to stop further death and she must open the Vault. The virus coming back a little to compel her to this end, or just frequently repeated phrase for the sake of simplicity? Unclear. Ironwood finally lowers the gun-gun he was pointing at her and puts a reassuring hand on her shoulder to tell her she’s done the right thing. In a cadence very much not her own, she agrees she has, and all illusions are dropped. It Was Emerald All Along!~ And JNR as well as Oscar are standing a few yards behind her along with the airship she must have been masking the approach of with the sound of “Penny” flying in. As shocked realization dawns on his face, James is kicked in the chin by a backflipping Emerald. His gun flies out of his grasp and she catches it with a grin before disappearing. Damn she really has been getting good with her Semblance! Down in the hangar, the Ace Ops arrive to see the jailbirds slicing and blasting a ton of robot soldiers. Just as they’re about to join the fray Marrow is heard giving a command and his former teammates are left frozen under the power of a Semblance they never seemed to give its due diligence. The assembled Huntsmen and Huntresses start attacking Ironwood and he counters the first few attacks rather well. I’m sure he must be pretty damn shocked to see Oscar still alive after shooting him into a pit, and for that matter probably Jaune and Ren too with what Harriet told him about their mission into Monstra. That and how little sleep he’s probably gotten recently make it very likely willpower and his Semblance are the only things keeping him going at this point, so who are we to be shocked if he starts losing to their superior numbers? And start losing he does, because Winter is on their side and helps Nora bash him upside the head. Winter and Oscar charge at James on the back of a summoned Manticore, but he grabs it by the horns and stops it dead in its tracks. So they leap off and Winter hits him in the back with some ice while he’s busy destroying the summon. With another glyph she springboards Oscar back at James and he gives him the old rapidfire cane jab. It knocks his Aura pretty low by the looks of the flickers, but he still recovers and stops Oscar on the next swing. Before he can punch the poor boy any more than Hazel already has in the last 12 hours, Winter does the most anime move these series has yet to offer us and darts past her old boss to slice him at lightning fast speed. It’s a badass sight that I cannot describe with enough words so please just watch for yourself. With that, Ironwood’s Aura is broken and he passes out then and there. Qrow and Robyn apologize for freezing the Ace Ops like this, but these times call for hard choices. Emerald reappears to get uncuffed and Winter tells the five of them to move on to Phase 2.

We flash back to the end of the last episode where Ruby decides taking Penny to the Vault might be a risk worth taking, and we see Jaune and Ozcar immediately pick up on what she’s thinking. Why not try and use the Staff of Creation and hope it can work a twofold miracle of saving Penny and all the people of these two cities? Just then Weiss gets a text from Winter, and the gears start turning in our minds how this whole plan came together. We see Winter shoving Marrow into an elevator and looking very grumpy about the whole experience. He correctly guesses she’s not arresting him, but damn if he doesn’t get why she had to punch him to get him outta here. She rightfully tells him it was to make it look believable and she just saved his life thank you very much. He notices she’s texting someone and asks whom, and she says getting in touch with Weiss for some help is something she should have done a long time ago. Just then the elevator doors open and we get the payoff to who Robyn and Qrow were so surprised to see last episode: These two. Winter quickly sees this as a chance for even more help, and I think it is the happiest she’s ever been to see Qrow. Shifting back to Schnee manor, Weiss is going over the risks of this plan of theirs to the other 10 teens. Oscar pipes up with another danger, Atlas falling as soon as the Staff is used for anything new. The cover story about Gravity Dust keeping the kingdom afloat was only half wrong, there really is a large amount at the base of the landmass that will slow the descent a bit, but it will still be a cataclysmic landing. Jaune suggests using the Staff to get everyone in the danger areas to somewhere safe, possibly even another Kingdom, but Oscar says it doesn’t just work that easily. Especially not with HIM involved. The Staff has a sentient presence you have to deal with to make anything happen, but he’s a real card this one. He gives you what you ask for and only what you ask for, so you have to be specific and provide details or even blueprints for how to make what you’re asking for. Lucky for them Whitley has access to the layouts of Atlas and Mantle due to preparing for their earlier evacuation plan, so they’re off to a very good start. Oz still worries about Ironwood and the bomb at this point, but Weiss assures him they have a good plan for that. And we just saw what that was and how well it worked.

So now we get to see what Team RWBY is doing while ORNJ is handling Ironwood and whatever else Winter is having them do, flying an airship up to the hole Oscar left in the bottom of the Vault and having Ruby use her new Semblance skill to carry the rest of her team and Penny up through that and into the Vault itself. Klein and the other Schnees are also aboard the airship cuz someone needed to fly it and they weren’t gonna stick around in the mansion after the Kingdom starts falling. Ruby can basically fly now, no big deal it’s totally fine this doesn’t make her OP as hell, WHAT???? Okay I’m done. They get to the Vault door and with a shoulder to lean on and a few supportive words Penny opens it no problem. In the split second before Penny starts self-terminating now that this objective is completed, RWBY zooms into the grassy meadow inside this cold winter Kingdom’s vault on another Rose Express and Ruby grabs the Staff. Time stops as we see Winter escorting James to a cell in the brig right next to her other manipulative father figure Jacques, OJNRE are in front of some sort of computer monitor, and various other shots of what people are up to at this second are shown. In a cloud of blue mist emerges a man every bit as big blue and naked as Jinn was, but while she was thicc he is jacked. I don’t know how to describe his light blue hair but it’s got a ponytail so that’s fun. He seems charismatic af with a voice many assumed was Matt Mercer but is not, and seems he’s still a little steamed over how boring a request making Atlas float was. Ruby gets his attention and we learn his name is Ambrosius. When faced with a request to stop Penny from dying, Ambros informs them a limitation of his powers is resurrecting the dead. So everyone theorizing the Staff could bring back Pyrrha, or Clover, or any other beloved character were disappointed to be proven wrong. But bringing back the dead isn’t what Ruby is after, and once Ambrosius sees for himself just how atypical of a girl Penny is he understands their intention clearly. He lets them know of his rules, he is essentially a monkey’s paw and what you get may be exactly what you asked for but not what you hoped to get. They knew about this technicality problem too, so they brought Penny’s blueprints and ask him word for word to “Make a new version of her using her exact same robotic parts”. The robot parts are what have the virus, and once they use the Staff to make something new that infected robot Penny will cease to exist. But if he only removes the robot parts that will leave behind the life and soul that truly makes her Penny. It’s also not within his power to directly destroy, apparently, but it wouldn’t be killing her because it’s leaving her existing with just her soul. Yang flexes her prosthetic arm to illustrate their point that the mechanical parts are just extra. Ambrosius is enthusiastic to give this a try, but he has no idea what the finished product would be, so Ruby encourages him to get a little creative with it. He’s eager to give it a try but does warn them he can’t guarantee what the results will be, but they insist they have no other options and he does a sort of dance in the air like a full body orchestra conduction. Penny starts floating in swirls of blue mist, and in a flash of white light one becomes two. With his job done, Ambros fades away with a wink.

All of Atlas starts shaking, and ORNJE take that as their cue to start their next task: broadcasting to all of Atlas and Mantle a warning that Atlas is falling. Jaune is the one to deliver the message after some troubles figuring out how to get it working, but before he can offer any reassurance that a plan is in motion to save the masses... the broadcast is cut short along with all communications in the Kingdom. My money is on Watts being responsible, but maybe it was Atlas command on a hunch of what Ironwood would want them to do. James himself didn’t tell them to cut it off, cuz he’s still unconscious in a jail cell. Speaking of those cells, Jacques demands answers on what the hell is going on from his eldest daughter. She asserts that they will be getting everyone to safety and leaving the falling rubble to Salem for all the good it’ll do her, but Jacques is still worried he won’t be among those saved. Winter hesitates but tells him that yes he will be evacuated too. He thanks her profusely but she refuses to accept that credit. If he wants to be grateful he has to thank Weiss for deciding to free him, and that news shuts him up right quick. Weiss has been his least favorite child, yet she’s still the one to show him mercy and kindness because that’s the sort of woman she’s always been and he tried to stamp that humanity out of her. What an ass he must feel like.

Back down in the Vault, two Penny’s stand before RWBY. One looks like we’ve always known her, but starts moving and jerking around robotically with red eyes and sparks flying out of it as it collapses to the ground. The other has bare human legs, no gloves, no power sign on her neck ribbon, a natural fabric bow in her hair, and aside from that is every bit the sweet and good girl we’ve come to know. Some people say this was a mistake or a bad move to take away what made her such a unique character but... they really didn’t. She was able to grow outside of the limitations of the body she came into existence with and now lives purely as who she has always felt herself being inside. And that’s pretty cool. She’s naturally very disturbed to see another version of herself collapsing and dying right in front of her, but feels a lot better getting to hug Ruby. Penny never knew a hug could make you feel this warm inside, and gives hugs to the rest of Team RWBY. It’s very very cute and we’re all glad to see she’s doing so well now. 

With this taken care of it’s time to summon Ambrosius for the evacuation creation. He seems to have no concept of time because he doesn’t realize how little time has passed and is surprised to see they’re the ones who summoned him again. And considering how thorough they were with the last request he’s probably bummed he won’t get to pull a fast one on with a request this time either. They try and ask him to make doorways all over Atlas and Mantle that will all become a single doorway in Vacuo, but he requires too much complex metaphysics and space time bending to make that happen so they alter course. Make a central location all the doorways in Atlas and Mantle will open into, and then have a single door in that big new place that will open in Vacuo. He wants to know just what kind of central location they would have in mind, and Yang says he should make one that exists outside of Remnant’s reality just like the Vaults seem to. He commends them for being so smart about it, but acknowledges that could end up being foolishness instead. As a point of reference for the doorway system, or perhaps just for where in Atlas and Mantle they should be opening, Weiss shows him a series of blueprints for the layout of the Snowshoe shipping hub and how it connects to Atlas. Using that basis he makes dozens if not a hundred or two doorways all over the two cities. They’re big gold ovals with pale blue centers, and on the other side is a big empty black void with a series of narrow walkways without and sort of railings connecting all the portals to a single large one at the end of all the converging paths. Very dangerous if anyone ends up tripping or knocking anyone else over. People are very confused to see these things suddenly pop up, but we see Joanna hesitantly step through one and see just what the deal is. Realizing it’s their way out she seems to go back and tell the others. I gotta admit, the look of this large doorway in the midst of a barren rocky place like this gave me serious ending of Kingdom Hearts 1 vibes, and I half expected Mickey Mouse to be on the other side talking about the Door to Darkness. But that’s just me. Satisfied that the job is done, they thank Ambros who tells them they were indeed disappointingly thorough and they can go now. As they head out the broken robo Penny fades away to blue dust and real Penny is rather shaken to bear witness to that. Before he disappears into the Staff for who knows how long now, Ambrosius delivers one last warning about the world of doors and paths they just created. Do Not Fall. With that ominous warning ringing in their minds the five young women head into the doorway before them with the intent to go to Vacuo with everyone else and the hope in their hearts that they’re not forgetting anything important. We see Cinder wearing a hooded cloak in the midst of a crowd about to head into one of these portals, and it becomes very clear what important thing they may not have taken into account.

Time to wait 7 days to see what could possibly go wrong now!

[mysterioh]

The Ignorant Beauty and The Beast of New York - Ch. 13

PAIRING: MOB!STEVE ROGERS X READER

SYNOPSIS: Y/N is an exhausted bio major. Steve is danger with a capital DANGER. She thinks he’s a sarcastic prick with an impressive knowledge of art history. He thinks she’s cute even if she’s only running on one brain cell. All he wants is a single date, but she’s adamant upon denying.

A/N: This one’s for the girls who feel underappreciated. Love you all! 💗 

W/C: ~5k (kinda long this time)

Masterlist

Insert Very Cute Very Soft Title

“He’s so fluffy!” you fawned, squatting down to the dog's level, hands pressed against your cheeks as you looked at the fluffy cotton ball in complete awe.

Lucky sat on his bottom, smiling and panting with his tongue hanging out of his mouth, unaware of the effect he was having on you. He sat relaxed but ready to pounce on Steve if he let him. You squealed, shaking your head back and forth, and the mob men find it amusing.

"Don’t be rude Lucky, shake hands," Steve chuckled behind you.

“Hello, Lucky,” you placed your hand in front of him and he placed his paw on top. “So cute!” you screamed in awe.  Steve pays close attention to the way your fingers sift through his luscious white fur. "Oh my god, you’re so soft!"  

“She really likes Lucky," Bucky chuckled.

“I never knew she could be that nice," Steve shakes his head. His confusion and shock slowly morph into envy by the way you're playing with Lucky. "I can’t believe I’m jealous of a dog.”

“Hey, at least you know she isn’t a gold digger," Sam said. You're too busy with the dog that you don't pay them any mind. "She completely ignored this giant mansion filled with priceless treasures."

"Would you shut up?" Steve asked annoyed. "She's literally right there."

"She's gone, bro," Bucky crossed his arms. "She's not coming back anytime soon."

"You guys are finally here," Nat said, strutting towards them from the hallway. "I was wondering where you were."

You stand up as the redhead walks towards you. "And you brought a friend," she smirks at Steve. He looks away with an irritated blush creeping on his cheeks.

"Hi, I think we met at the restaurant," you extended your hand for a shake. "My name is–"

"Y/N," Nat shakes your hand. "I know. Stevie's told me a lot about you."

Your face flushed warm and you turned towards him with a wicked grin.

"Is that true, Stevie?"

Steve gulps when you tease him, it's like a sweet blaze burning through his veins. Steve's lips form into a pout before clicking his tongue.

"Alright, it ain't that funny," he said pointedly at the three snickering mischievously. "Sam, Bucky, Nat, in my office now," he ordered firmly, but it didn't phase them. "Peter stay here with Y/N."

"Aye, aye, Captain." He saluted.

He walks up to you and scratches the back of his head sheepishly. "I gotta have a quick meeting. If that's okay with you?"

"No problem with me," you shake your head.

Steve smiles brightly. "Thanks, it won't be too long. Make yourself at home," he turned on his heel. "If you need anything just ask Peter."

You chuckled. "Don't worry, I'll be fine, Stevie," you teased.

Steve shakes his head with a blush staining his cheeks. "Stop," he said in an attempt to sound serious but trails off into a flustered chuckle.

You turn to look at Peter. “So what do we do now?”

“I don’t know,” Peter shrugs, “how about we sneak around and do something illegal?”

“In the kingpin’s house?” you smirked. “I love that idea.”

“Great,” he beams, “Let’s—” Peter’s ringtone goes off and digs his hand into his pocket for his phone. He pulls it out and sighs. “It’s my girlfriend.”

“Why must your girlfriend so conveniently call when we are on the brink of a major discovery?”

“I don’t know,” Peter chuckled, “I shall answer and find out,” he takes a skip towards the living room for some privacy, leaving you alone with Lucky.

You crouch down to his level. “Well, Lucky, I suppose our mystery gang is down to two,” you said, cupping his cheeks. “What do we do now? Got any embarrassing pictures of your old man we can go through?”

Lucky barks and rushes off somewhere. He returns not a minute later with a ball in his mouth. He places the ball on the floor in front of you and pants heavily.

“Ball?” you asked, “Are you even allowed to play ball in the house?” You shrugged, taking the ball into your hand. “Well, Steve did say to make ourselves at home. So that means— catch !”

Lucky scrambles after the ball, slipping along the shiny marble floor of the foyer and into the hallway. You wait patiently for him to return, observing the interior of the mansion’s foyer. The house was styled in an old French Country Style with worn and ornamental wooden furnishings and soft tones of warm colors. In the middle of the foyer was the staircase lined with shining mahogany banisters that narrow at the top and grow wide downwards. The walls are decorated with various paintings. All matching perfectly with the decor.

You snorted while placing your hands on your hips. Of course, he’d have paintings in his house. It’s not like he couldn’t afford it.  

You realize that a couple of minutes have passed and Lucky still hadn’t returned with the ball. You walk down the hallway calling Lucky’s name quietly. The low tone of conversation comes from one of the rooms and you tiptoed towards the door, cracked open just enough for a beam of light to peer through.

Crouching against the wall, you crane your neck towards the door to listen to the conversation inside. You were never one to eavesdrop but you had a lot of questions about Steve. A lot of questions he probably wouldn't want to answer.

You squeak at the feel of something soft brush against your leg and turn to find Lucky sitting next to you, ball in mouth. He drops the ball drenched in his slobber into your hand. Slightly disgusted you smiled at him. “Where have you been?” you whispered before turning back inside.

"Those men were either Rumlow or Chicago, we're not exactly sure."

"We'll find out."

"Chill out, Stevie, the girl's fine."

"It's not something to chill out about, Bucky," Steve countered, "She could've gotten hurt."

There's a genuine sound of worry and care in his words and even without taking a peek inside, you imagine what he looks like. Eyebrows knitted loosely in frustration, lips curved downward slightly in anger, jaw ticking, muscles bulging underneath white sleeves pushed up past his elbows, and hands placed flat on his desk as he's hunched over with the most despicable expression on his face. And it's all because of you. For you. You didn't know if it was right or wrong.

Bucky snorted along to the creaking of the chair he was sitting on being balanced on its hind legs. "Not when her prince in shining armor's there to save h–ow! Okay! I'm sorry!" He hollered.

"This isn't a time for jokes, Buck," Nat stated, seriously.

"The clown can't help himself," Sam snickered.

"Screw you, Wilson," Bucky jabbed. Sam was ready to retort but Nat interjected.

"What if it's neither?" Nat proposed. "What if they're all working together?"

"What do you mean?" Bucky asked, clueless. Nat sighed.

"Think about it. The Gambinos work with Lucchese. They're pals. Rumlow’s working with Lucchese and he shows up with this proposition right after Steve decided to nuke the Gambino brothers."

_Wait, nuke who? Nuke as in bomb? He's killing people? _

_All of a sudden, Quentin's highly irritating, fatherly voice twinkles in the back of your head. _

"You mean they're all in this together?" Sam questioned.

"What else am I trying to say?" Nat snapped.

"Woah Sis, better check that attitude," Bucky replied.

"You wanna say that again, Buckethead?" She asked, dangerously low.

Bucky gulps while shaking his head.

"Thought so."

"If they're all working together, who's the head?" Sam said, rubbing his hand across his chin.

"It could be a compromise?" Nat stated. "Working together to take over?"

"No, they ain't that buddy-buddy," Steve counters with a grumble. "There's gotta be one at the top that brought them together."

The room goes silent for a few minutes and you can hear your heartbeat bouncing back and forth between your chest and the wall. Lucky opens his mouth to bark and you quickly cover it with your hands.

"Sshh," you whispered with a finger in front of your lips.

"Hydra," Steve stated and your attention returns to inside.

"What?" Bucky asked incredulously, "there's no way."

"No wait a second," Sam stopped him. "The Gambinos were working with Hydra behind our back. Who's to say Lucchese isn't?"

"Sam's got a point," Nat agreed. "Hydra could be the head. They're covering themselves up with the big guys and those dumbasses are falling for it."

Bucky nodded. "Makes sense. The underdog's taking a chance to make it to the top."

"Well they're messing with the wrong mob," Sam snarled. "We'll show 'em just what we're made of."

"But, we can't afford a war," Bucky reminded, "Not when elections are coming up."

War? What does he mean by that? Does he mean like a GANG WAR? OH GOD, WHAT AM I DOING HERE?

"Bucky's right,” Steve agrees.

"For once," Nat quickly replied, earning a grumble from Bucky.

"Here's what we do," Steve started. You notice just how different he sounds. Stately and somewhat dictating, very serious with speckles of something dark. Something that makes shivers crawl down your spine. He doesn't sound like the Steve you knew.

“We wade this out," he continues, “Let it pass until the elections are over and then we hit ‘em."

"You think T'challa's gonna like that?" Nat asked.

"He will if he wants to keep his ass on that chair," Sam retorts.

"We don't make any moves until the elections pass and he wins," Steve re-stated. "Tell everyone working under you to lay low. No fights. No bullshit," he ordered. "We make 'em feel like it was nothing. Ya hear?"

"Got it," Bucky nodded.

You hear them shuffling inside, chairs being pushed, and steps coming towards the door and take it as your cue to disappear. Quickly picking up Lucky, who's heavier than he looks, you quietly run down the hall just as Bucky opens the door.

"And the girl?" Nat asked while Sam helped her put her coat on.

"What about her?" Steve asked, clearing the papers from his desk.

"If you're gonna keep her around, which you probably are, you have to tell her what she's getting into."

Steve sighs and drops his papers back onto the desk.  

"Nat's right, buddy, she needs to know before it gets worse," Bucky agreed.

"I'll talk to her," Steve responded.

"Tonight?" Nat asked her tone stating that he better say yes.

"Tonight."

A haze of smoke dances underneath dim lights, above and around the round table of Sir Alexander's notorious mobsters.

The thick smell of alcohol and cigars mingled with the aroma of day-old pizza inside of Gino's Pizzeria. A few sat around the table playing cards, laughing raucously at another lewd joke. Others lined the bar with the wall illuminated by speckled bar lights shining through bottles of different hues.

It was always a den of debauchery, alcoholism, and the great unwashed of the town. No one came there with anything wholesome in mind.  

Strucker walks past the men, each of them giving their stalwart a greeting nod or word, and into the back. He opens the door, gaining the attention of the men sitting around the table. They look at him with questioning eyes and he gulps silently. His eyes meet the cold ones of the man at the head of the table, sending a shiver down the grown man's spine. Alexander Pierce, the leader of Hydra.

"He got away," Strucker informed.

"How'd you let that happen?" Pierce asked, tapping his finger against the wooden table.

"It was dark," he said blankly.

"Are you fucking serious?" Rumlow asked incredulously. "He's not serious is he?" He points at Strucker while looking at Zemo.

Zemo sighed, slightly irritated by Rumlow. He's been all night. "With all due respect sir, I told you it would've been a bad move to do this," Zemo told Pierce. "But it's not like anyone listens to me around here," he looks straight at Rumlow.

"What the hell are you looking at me for?" He pointed at himself with both his hands. "I had an idea and you all liked it. How is this solely my fault?"

"Everything you ever come up with goes to shit," Zemo stated flatly. "Now the kingpin knows we're sneaking around."

"They don't know it's us," Rumlow retorted.

"But they know it's someone and most likely you," Zemo said pointedly.

"The boss gave me the okay," Rumlow replied. Zemo always had a way of getting under his skin. "So your opinion doesn't matter."

"After begging like a dog for it," Zemo bites.

Rumlow quickly stands, shaking the table along with him. "You wanna say that again?" He threatens with a grisly voice.

"Rumlow, sit down," Pierce stated calmly, unphased by his outrage, but slightly irritated by the three of them. "Zemo, shut up."

The two follow their stalwart's orders giving each other death stares making the older man sighed deeply like a tired mother.

"The Brooklyn Mob is the biggest force in the city. They've got the biggest territory. The best guys. And all the politicians that can do something," Zemo lists. "They got the mayor. Half the police force on their payroll. The best damn lawyer in the city."

"Nick Fury's getting old. He can't do that forever," Strucker said, lighting a cigarette.

"For old Rogers? I highly doubt it." Rumlow guffaws. "You know how much he gets paid for keeping his ass outta jail?"

"But there's always a weak spot," Pierce pointed out, cigar hanging out the side of his mouth. "No great empire lasts forever. They all have a weakness.” he sits back in his chair, hooking his leg over the other. “All we need to do is find one.”

“How are you going to do that?” Rumlow asked, completely confused. “No Brooklyn mobster is dumb enough to go against the kingpin, not like they want to anyway. They’re the cockiest little shits I’ve ever met.”

Zemo shakes his head. “You’re thinking too outwardly, Rumlow. We need someone on the inside, someone close to ol’ Rogers.”

“You mean like Barnes or Wilson?” Rumlow questioned, incredulously. “Good luck with that Harvard man.” Zemo huffs through his nose with a grimace.

"We need something. Something good,” Pierce told them. “Something that'll make the kingpin fall so far that he'll never get back up."

“I think I have something,” Strucker raises his hand.

“Strucker, be quiet, you don’t even have a brain,” Rumlow shuts him down.

“Honestly listen to me,” he persisted. “There’s some talk going on around the city.”

“Well, are you gonna tell us?” Pierce questioned harshly.

“Apparently, Rogers’ got a girl.”

Rumlow scoffed. “That’s news? Who cares about some chick he’s fucking?”

“No, no this may be something,” Pierce counters and Strucker smiles small. “Rogers is a gentleman. He’s sweet around the ladies.”

“Well, whoop de doo his momma taught him some manners before kicking the bucket. So what?”

“Whoever this girl is,” Strucker started. “She’s important to him. Maybe even more than his damn mob. I mean everyone knows the kingpin doesn’t back out of a fight, but this time he did and wanna know why? Because she was there with him.”

“Who is this girl?” Zemo asked him.

“I don’t know. No one knows,” he shrugs, “Probably a civilian.”

“So what do we do?” Rumlow asks the others. “Go after the girl? Bribe him into it?”

Pierce shakes his head with a frown. “No, I’ll tell you what we’re going to do,” he stood up, looking at his three best.  “Rumlow, you’re gonna stay low.” he pointed at him then at Strucker.

“Strucker, you’re gonna find this girl, get every piece of information you can on her. Every damn thing you hear me?” Strucker nods in haphazard. “But don’t make a move. Not until I say so. This girl may just be what we need,” Pierce smiles devilishly and laughs haughtily.

“And what about me?” Zemo asked with furrowed brows.

“Pack your bags, kid, you’re going on a trip,” he patted him on the shoulder as he walked by.

“What?” he questioned Pierce as he walked away. “Where?”

Pierce stops at the door and turns back with a wicked glint in his eye and the gears in his aged brain concocting a toxic plan.

“Jolly old England!”

“So you live in this huge place all alone?” you asked, sitting on a stool by the kitchen island with Lucky resting on the floor next to you.

The kitchen alone was bigger than your entire apartment complete with granite-topped counters, sparkling clean kitchen items, and that never-ending fridge Bucky was talking about.

"Not really," Steve said, making some coffee. "I've got a penthouse. Smaller. Closer to work. I usually stay there."

"But you're still all alone.”

Steve stops for a second to ruminate on your words. True, he was alone. He didn’t have any family left, except for Lucky. He always tried not to think about it by keeping himself busy, but loneliness had a way of sneaking up on him. He shrugged, pulling out two mugs from the cabinet above him.

"I don't know being alone isn't so bad,” he replied, placing the cups down. “It gives you time to think. About yourself. About what you want in life and what you don't,” You listened while watching him pour some coffee into a mug. “You can use that time to find out something you never knew about yourself."

“I guess,” you replied sheepishly.

He turns with a smile telling you not to feel bad. He places a mug in front of you. "Besides I'm not always alone. I've got my friends."

"Oh yeah,” you chuckled.  “How could I ever forget them? They're kinda hard to miss."

Steve laughs, returning to the counter to get his cup. "Sorry if they're annoying."

"No, they're not annoying,” you shake your head, cupping the mug with both of your hands. "I like them. They seem like a lot of fun."

He snorts. "They can be when they want to."

You take a sip of the hot liquid. A sweet wave of French Vanilla bombards your tastebuds. You notice a yellow sketchbook, sticking out from underneath some junk mail. Without thinking, you pull the book out.

"You draw?"

He turns to see you with his book in your hand. He smiles sheepishly. Why did I leave that there!? "A little,” he replied, turning back to work on his coffee.

"Seems to be more than a little,” you chuckled. "Can I?"

"Hmm, oh yeah sure go ahead,” he said, adding some creamer to his mug. He stops midway when he realizes what book was in your hand. The yellow one. The one no one was supposed to see. Especially the girl who’s picture he drew horribly in it.

He almost drops the creamer as he quickly lunges over the granite top as you turned the page. "W-wait! Not—not that one!" he shouted, as you turned the page to reveal a picture of you. It’s a simple headshot going down to just above your chest.

Steve’s face goes red as half off him lays on top of the table, watching the way you’re looking at the picture he drew. Your eyes move from place to place, taking in every part he drew with attention to detail. Every stroke twisted into a lacy network of pencil lead. The painstaking task of shading to represent the contrast between light and dark. It’s fragile, natural, beautiful in its own way.

It makes you think. How long did he take to make this? How many hours did he erase to get it all right? Every line has been made with care, every stroke with you in mind.

Brushing your fingers along the picture you gasp in awe. "This is me."

"It is," he murmurs. You turn quiet and look at the sketch in wonder. Steve takes your silence as you being weirded out and begins to ramble an excuse.

"I'm really sorry. I just...I don't know what happened to me and I drew this cause I was thinking about you and I know it's really creepy—."

"I like it," you interrupted.

"What?"

"I said I like it. I love it actually," you looked up at him, beaming. "I've never had my portrait done before."

He stands straight and scratches the back of his head still embarrassed. "I'm- um- glad you like it."

"You've really outdone yourself with this. I don't even look this pretty," you remarked.

Steve was taken aback at first then shakes his head with a sad smile.

"I don't–I don't think that at all. I'm still lacking so much. I still can't get that pretty smile of yours right or that sparkle in your eye," lifting up your head, your eyes meet his vibrant, honest ones. "I'll never be able to recreate the things that make you so beautiful.”

Beautiful .

That's something you've never really felt before. Something no one's ever really said before. It's always been the opposite. There are a million flaws you could pick out right there and then, but you take his words as truth.

There's a dry ache in your throat as tears start to bubble at the corners of your eyes. You sniffle as teardrops fall onto the paper.

"What's wrong?" Steve came towards you in a hurry.

You shake your head, wiping away the tears "It's just," you sniffled, rubbing your eye. "No one's ever really said that to me before," you look up with a smile and red eyes. "Sorry, I'm getting your book all wet," you chuckled, avoiding his eyes.

His heart aches at your words, his fingers itching to wrap around you in an embrace. He wants you to feel loved . Feel wanted. He wanted you to know just how beautiful you really were. He wanted you to see yourself the way he saw you.

"That's fine. I don't care," he whispered, gently weaving his hands in yours. "Y/N."

You look up at him and he's left breathless again. To him, you’ve always been an understated beauty. Simple and sweet. Confident and strong. Perhaps that was the reason why your skin glowed. It was your inner beauty that lit your eyes and softened your features.

When you smiled and laughed he couldn’t help but follow along. To be in your company made him feel like he was more than just a mob boss. That he too deserved to be warmed in summer rays regardless of the season.

"You're very beautiful," he repeated and it feels more special the second time.

You chuckle while shaking your head, your hands still in his.

"If you're tryna get in my pants, kingpin, it’s not gonna work," you jabbed playfully.

He rolled his eyes, his lips curling in a playfully peeved grin.

"Can't I say something just for the sake of saying it?"

You smiled sheepishly, slipping off the stool and standing. "I guess you can."

Before he could even say another word, you pull him down to you and kiss him straight on the lips. Not on the cheek. But on the lips and it catches him completely off guard.

It's quick and chaste but it's something Steve's been dreaming of for a long time. Those pretty plump lips against his felt softer than heaven, sweeter than honey. When you part just a split second later, he feels lonely but content with the promise of another meeting.

You giggle sweetly, your breath mingling with his, tickling – teasing his lips to come closer for more.

"I should really get to bed," you said, standing a bit back. "I've got an early class."

"Yeah, of course," he nodded with a beaming smile. "Let me show you to your room."

Pulling you by the hand, he leads you out of the kitchen and towards the staircase. Everything seems so perfect at that moment. The dim light of a chandelier twinkling above, your hand perfectly intertwined in his, and his deep, soothing voice rambling that sounded more like the hazy tune of a sweet melody.

Never in your dreams did you think you'd get to share a moment like this let alone with a man like him. Dangerous for sure, but sweet and humble, generous and caring. All the good things about him seemed to outmatch the one bad thing. So what if he had a bit of notoriety? The world wasn't perfect and neither were you.

Sometimes you find the things you want most in life in the most unexpected of places. You found yours in him. Though small at the moment it could blossom into something more. And for that "what if" you were more than willing to stay.

“I think Lucky wants to sleep with you tonight," Steve chuckles as the puppy pushes his way through the door and your legs.

"I don't mind," you smiled at him making his way to the bed.

You reached on your tiptoes and gave Steve a kiss on the cheek. “Good night.”

Steve smiles sweetly not really wanting to leave. He plants a kiss on your intertwined hand, igniting a blazing fire across the skin of your arm. “Good night," he wishes.

Quentin stood by the science building on campus as he did every day, waiting for you to drag yourself to school like you did every day, but this time he finds something he didn’t expect. His jaw drops at the sight of you driving up in the passenger seat of a sparkling silver Corvette. It’s only until the car stops by him on the side of the curb does he really believe that it’s you.

"Y/N! What are you doing with him?!” he shouted with an accusatory point.  

“Oh, hey Quentin," you got out of the convertible not really paying attention to him. You turn towards Steve. "Thanks for the ride, Steve and for letting me stay.”

“You spent the night with him?!” he hollered, waving his arms around.

“No problem, sweetheart," Steve chuckled sweetly.

“Don’t call her that!” Quentin shouted, standing next to you.

Your eyes are completely fixated on Steve and don't notice Quentin glaring at you. “See ya around sometime?”

“Yeah, I’d love to," the blonde agreed with a smile.

“Stop ignoring me!” Quentin huffed putting his hands on his hips.

“Do you hear that annoying sound or is it just me?” Steve asked, teasingly, earning a giggle in return.

“Y/N, what the hell were you doing with this criminal for an entire night?”

“It’s a long story Quentin I’ll tell you later,” you waved him off.

“I demand to know right now!”

You rolled your eyes with a huff. “I’ll tell you after class," you stated with emphasis.

“Hey,” Steve calls you back. “If anything happens, you call me right away. You hear me?”

“You have his number?” Quentin asked through gritted teeth. He just couldn’t process how you went from hating him two days ago to sleeping over his house.

You smiled with a nod. “Yeah, I’ll tell you don’t worry.” Steve takes your hand and kisses it.

“I’ll see you later then?” he asked again, running his thumb across the ridges of your knuckles and you wanted to melt right there.

“Call me when you’re free,” you told him with a sudden urge to kiss him again. But not right now, Quentin would raise hell if he saw that. As if he wasn’t already.

“What the fuck is happening here?” Quentin questioned. “You stay away from her,” he pointed at the blonde. Steve gave him a snarky smile that said: I do what I want twink ass bitch and it only pisses him off more. “And you stop looking at him like he’s your fucking Romeo.”

“I mean if the job’s open?” Steve shrugged, his Prada sunglasses hanging low on his nose and looking over at you. You chuckled as Quentin pulls you along by the hand.

“It’s not.” he bit back. “So leave before I call the cops.”

You bite your lip, highly tempted to skip class, jump back into his convertible, and have him take you wherever he wants to. Along lone country roads, feeling the wind twirl through your hair as he holds your hand in his, kissing it from time to time as he drives into a tangy orange sunset. You’ll take it one step further, pressing a kiss onto his cheek and along his jaw until you reach those pretty lips.

God, what was happening to you?

"What are you staring at?” Quentin hissed, bringing you back to your senses. He points upward toward the building. “Get your butt up those stairs right now!"

You follow your dad friend up the stairs as he goes off about how out of line you are. You turn around as he pulls you behind him. Your eyes meet Steve’s baby blues, twinkling under the sunlight. You chuckle at him as he waves goodbye.

You press your hands against your lips and send a kiss towards him flamboyantly. He clutches his chest and falls back onto his seat dramatically leaving you a giggly mess. It's a pity that you had to leave so soon.

You shoot one last smile his way before going inside and it's like Cupid's arrow shot him right through the heart.

TAGLIST (OPEN): @ashwarren32 @chuckennuggets1213 @scuzmunkie @siriusement @rootcrop @savedbystark @little-dark-empress @boxofteenageideas @great-goddess-of-sin​ @calwitch​ @achishisha​ @captainchrisstan​ @thirstybunz​ @littlebees-things​ @voltage-my2dlove​ @rinkashirikitateku​ @booktease21​ @harleyscheekheart​ @emptyporsche @imsonick​

[flowerfan2]

Gray Skies - Epilogue (now complete)

McDanno, 13k, A03 Read from the beginning here

Hi all!  Apologies for taking so long to finish this - in my head it was done, but a conversation on the H50 writer’s discord about WIPs reminded me that I had meant to give it an epilogue.  So here it is - hope you enjoy it!

Summary: What if Danny misses work because some days, he just can’t manage to come in? What if Danny didn’t move into Steve’s house just because he was worried about Steve, but also about himself? Living with depression doesn’t have to mean living without love.

Epilogue

Six months later

Steve’s in the kitchen, having a philosophical debate with himself over whether trying to find pineapple flavored coffee to tease Danny with is worth the effort, when the man himself comes into the room.

Danny’s looking kind of rough, hair tousled and unshaven.  He clearly hasn’t showered yet.  Steve’s heart squeezes a little, and he moves towards Danny, arms opening to catch him in a hug.

“Nuh-uh, none of that,” Danny says, stepping back and shaking his head.  “I’m fine.”

Steve stops in his tracks.  He’s surprised, to say the least.  Since when has Danny not wanted a morning hug?

“I didn’t say you weren’t fine,” he responds carefully, searching Danny’s face for a clue to his mood.

“But you assumed.”  

Danny’s clearly annoyed, even upset, and Steve can’t fathom why.  “No, I just wanted to-”

“Don’t lie.  You took one look at me,” Danny waves his hand up and down his rather unkempt self, “and you decided I needed help.  Next thing you know you’ll be offering to put on some music and bring me peppermint tea, or build a pillow fort, or give me a back rub.”

“And those are bad things?  I was under the impression that you liked it when I did nice things for you.”  Now Steve is getting annoyed too.  “What’s got into you this morning?”

 “Nothing,” Danny says, a little too loudly.  “Absolutely nothing.  It is an absolutely normal morning.”

 “Then why are you acting like this?” Steve can feel his voice rising to meet Danny’s.

 “Like what?  I haven’t done anything unusual.  It’s you who’s being weird – why aren’t you out on a run, huh? Or swimming around the island, or practicing for a decathlon?”

 “Oh, that’s mature.  And I already went for a run, as you would know if you were having a reasonable conversation with me instead of-”

 “So it’s my fault for not being reasonable?  Forgive me, I should have gotten up earlier, been prepared to quiz you on your morning activities.  Sorry I’m not a mind reader.”  Danny scrubs a hand over his face.  “Shouldn’t have bothered to get up at all, if I can’t do it right.”

 Steve doesn’t understand how this has gotten so out of hand.  “Danny, please, tell me what’s going on?”

 “For god’s sake, Steve, can’t a person just want to have a lazy morning for once, without his partner jumping all over him to fix everything?”

 Steve bites back his immediate reaction, which is to argue some more, and point out that maybe a person who wanted a lazy morning shouldn’t have started it by picking a fight as expertly as Danny just did.  But maybe something he’s learned in therapy is actually sticking, because he takes a deep breath instead.

 Danny’s hands are tightening into fists as he watches Steve, and he can tell Danny is about to blow.  But then, remarkably, Danny takes a deep breath too, and removes himself from the kitchen.

 Steve follows him – slowly, respectfully, not like he’s running after Danny to keep arguing, definitely not – and finds Danny staring out at the lanai.

 “It’s raining pretty hard,” Steve says. He’s not changing the subject so much as giving them both a chance to regroup, and Danny knows it, squeezing his eyes together hard and taking another deep breath before answering.

 “Yeah.  Good for the plants, though.”

 “Yeah.  It’s been dry.”

 “Yeah.”

 Steve lets another long moment pass, watching Danny’s shoulders relax and his fists unclench.  “If I come over there and give you a hug, ‘cause I like you a lot and for no other reason, are you gonna snap at me again?”  Steve asks calmly.

 “Asshole,” Danny mutters.  “Come here.”

 Steve wraps his arms around Danny from behind, and Danny leans back against him.  They both stare out at the downpour for a few minutes.  Steve loves the way he can feel Danny breathing, how he can match his inhales and exhales if he tries.

 He presses his nose into Danny’s shoulder, rubs his cheek against the soft t-shirt Danny wears to sleep in, and Danny tilts his head to rest it on Steve’s.

 Sometimes Steve wants to worm his way right under Danny’s skin, line them up together and fuse them tight with no space between them.  Maybe then he’d understand better what makes Danny tick, when to push and when to give him space.  Thing is, Steve hardly ever wants space from Danny anymore, and he thinks Danny feels the same. They’re getting better at this, lifting each other up without either of them faltering as a result, but it takes practice.

 “You went for a run in the rain?” Danny asks, as a burst of lightening races across the sky.  His voice holds nothing of the accusatory tone from just a few minutes ago, he’s just asking.

 “It wasn’t raining as hard before,” Steve says.

 “You’re kind of crazy.”

 “I know.”

 They fall silent again, but it’s more comfortable now.  Steve nuzzles against the side of Danny’s head, where his hair is buzzed short, and Danny hums contentedly.

 “I don’t feel depressed,” Danny says.

 Steve gets that he’s circling back to their earlier conversation, although he’s not sure yet where it’s going. “Okay,” Steve says carefully.  

 “No, I mean it.”  Danny turns in Steve’s arms, gives him a quick peck in the vicinity of his chin, and then steps away, walking over to the couch and flopping down.  “I’m okay. I’m so much better than I was, you see that, right?”

 “I do,” Steve says, and he means it. They’ve been going to therapy, and are each on slightly different meds, and he thinks it has helped both of them. Sure, there are good days and bad days, and Steve’s nightmares have proved difficult to shake, but overall they’re in a much better place than they were six months ago when Danny finally pushed them to get professional help.

 “But I woke up this morning,” Danny continues, “and I just felt, I don’t know, bleh.”

 “Bleh?”  Steve asks, letting a hint of humor color his tone, and Danny smirks.

 “Yeah.  Bleh.”

 “Okay.”

 “Do you get it, though?  Not hopeless, not as if I couldn’t bother to get up.  Not like there wasn’t any reason I could think of to even move.  Just bleh.”

 Steve comes over to the couch and sits down next to Danny, twisting so he can see his face.  “That’s good, right?”

 Danny snorts.  “Yeah, I thought so.  But then I came downstairs and you looked at me with that concerned face and…”

 “You felt like I wasn’t seeing your success.”

 Danny sighs and gazes away.  “I don’t like the idea that I’m always going to be sick, to you.  Someone who needs help.  I don’t like feeling weak.”

 Steve slides a little closer to Danny and bumps their knees together.  “One, you’re not, and I could tell you about a hundred reasons why, although you know them already.  And two, I could say the same thing about me.”

 Danny looks at him now, his nose wrinkling.  “I know. But why do I still worry about it?”

 Steve shrugs.  “Guess we’re just going to have to be patient.”

 Danny laughs half-heartedly and pokes a finger into Steve’s chest.  “Ha. Good one.  You, patient?  We’re doomed.”

 “As long as we’re doomed together, we can handle it.”  Steve leans his shoulder against Danny and Danny leans back, his hand reaching for Steve’s.

 “We’ve been doomed together before.”

 “Multiple times,” Steve agrees.

 “Remember when we dropped that nuke into the ocean from Kamekona’s helicopter?”

 “Not sure I could forget that, Danny.” Steve would love to forget it, it was terrifying, but there’s no chance.  “We still made it back in time for Kono’s wedding, though.”

 “That we did.”  Danny picks up his hand that’s holding Steve’s, and plays with his fingers.  Steve watches him, his heart stuttering as Danny brings his hand up to his mouth for a kiss, and then lets out a long sigh.

 “You know,” Steve starts out slowly, “I really did intend to have a lazy day today, too.  I cut my workout short and everything.”

 Danny rolls his eyes at Steve. “You did?  What does that even mean?  Only two hundred push-ups?”

 Steve glances over at the window as another burst of lightning streaks through the clouds.  “Thought I’d put on some Norah Jones and make something decadent with bacon.  Maybe eat it in a pillow fort.”  Steve raises an eyebrow at Danny.  “Rainy days are good for pillow forts.”

 “Using my words against me,” Danny groans.  “I’m gonna kill you.”

 “I was thinking about back rubs, too…”

 Danny opens his mouth, then closes it again.  “If back rubs are a euphemism for something else, I may regret rejecting them as a potential activity for today.”

 “Maybe yes, maybe no.  Does that mean you’ll reconsider?”

 Danny lets a smile dance across his face, then stifles it in mock exasperation.  “But no peppermint tea.  A guy’s gotta draw the line somewhere.”

 Steve beams, and pounces on Danny, who flops back on the couch and grins at him as Steve covers his body with his own.  Danny reaches for Steve’s head and pulls him down into a blistering kiss that is entirely out of synch with the whole lazy day aesthetic.

 “Sex now, lazy day and pillow forts later?” Steve asks when Danny lets him come up for air.

 “Sounds like a plan,” Danny replies, one hand sliding down to give Steve’s butt a squeeze, grinding them both together.

 “That’s why I love you so much,” Steve says between kisses, “you have the best plans.”

 Danny laughs against Steve’s skin, sending shivers down his spine, and there’s the Danny he knows again, sunshine bright and heart open.  “Love you too, babe, love you too.”  

[starlightsoulwriting]

L’appel du Vide

Cliff Unger x Reader

L'appel du Vide (n.) The unexplainable desire to jump when on the edge of a cliff Call of The Void AO3 Link

Porters are going missing. You and Fragile are at each other’s throats, and you’re still reeling from your incident ten months ago. And, on top of all your shit, life decides to drop a Cliff on you.

[x][1][2]

Prologue 

The first time you met Cliff was on the beach.

It had been weeks since Sam had gone after Amelie to stop the Last Stranding. Things had calmed down on the outside; Die-Hardman was establishing his presidency, not that any of you were focused on that. You, Heartman, and Mama had been searching for Sam the whole time.

Your ability was an odd one, as far as DOOMS goes. You couldn’t teleport your whole body like Fragile could, but you could send your Ka to the beach - even to other people’s beaches if you had a focus.

The day you met Cliff had been hard.

You’d had an honest to god, knock-down, drag-out fight with Fragile - it would have gone to blows had Heartman not dragged you away. You escaped to the beach after that.

You’d been doing that a lot lately.

You started at Sam’s beach, like you always did. But you wandered for hours, coming up with nothing. You were for sure in someone else’s by now. The borders between beaches were all fuzzy now - it was easy to slip into one you didn’t mean to. You could feel the change in your gut, energy shifting. There were people here, you could feel it, but the strands were so tangled you couldn’t tell them apart. So you picked one and went with it. Maybe he had wandered off this way, too. He had a hell of a head start on you, though.

You kept stumbling on until you heard whistling in the distance. You’d found someone! So you took off at a dead sprint towards the sound, even as you were telling yourself it probably wasn’t Sam.

As soon as the man came into view, you deflated. You hated when you were right.

He was tall, and handsome, and strong-looking, but you were disappointed all the same.

Because he wasn’t the porter that saved your life two.

You let out a childish huff and plopped out onto the dark sand, exhausted. You would just lay down on your back and stare at the sky for a minute. Gather your energy. Then you would go.

The guy must’ve noticed you lying like a depressed starfish, though, because you heard footsteps, and then a crunch of sand as he sat down next to you. You didn’t bother looking over, instead opting to shift upright and stare at the waves instead, arms curling around your knees. The waves were more interesting than clouds, anyway.

“I assume you’re not having the best of days, either?” His voice was warm and raspy, almost saying it like a joke as much as it was a real question.

You had to barely stop yourself from barking out a laugh, looking at him incredulously, but you were amused nonetheless. His eyes glinted with playfulness, a wry smile on his face, like your reluctant, surprised smile was exactly what he was going for. You rolled your eyes and looked back at the sea. “That’s a hell of a question to ask someone wandering around purgatory.”

“I’m not wrong though, am I?”

You sighed, wistful humor draining out of you as you came back to reality. Your day had been shit. You shrugged, curling in on yourself even more. “ I had a horrible fight with one of my only friends. She made a decision to let a bad man handle his own shit. I think she should have killed him”

Oh, god, you were such a downer.

He didn’t seem to mind though, and looked thoughtful. “I’m sure she had her reasons for doing that.”

“Yeah, she wanted him to suffer the consequences of his actions or whatever, but, like.” You took a shaky breath in. A pit of dread opened up in you - you were starting to get upset again, chest clenching painfully. The cool air began to feel hot, suddenly. “He nuked a city. The world would be safer without him.” You clench your fists to stop your fingers from trembling and squeezed your eyes shut to stop the tears. Your heart hammered in your ears and for a moment you were back in your shelter, trapped and helpless again. You could still feel the blood all over you - your stomach, your hands. His voice.

A brush on your shoulder made you flinch back with a gasp, but you opened your eyes and there was no skull mask staring back at you, only warm brown eyes and a sad, sympathetic look on his face. You were on the beach, looking for Sam. You were safe.

“You still with me, there?” He said gently, like talking to a frightened cat. You wished you knew what was going through his head, but at the same time didn’t have the courage to ask. Instead you nodded and worked on following grounding exercises, focusing on slowing your breath. “Need help?” You shook your head and stayed quiet, looking back out at the ocean.

Sand between your fingers. Salty sea air filling your lungs. The taste of the ocean. The heat of the person next to you.

Awkward silence weighed down upon you.

But you eventually calmed down.

You took one last breath and spoke, voice still unsteady. “I’m looking for my friend. He’s lost somewhere in here. I just need to find him so we can go home,” You glance at him. “You see a tired-looking dude about six feet come through here recently? Shoulder length hair, scruffy beard, porter gear on?”

He shook his head. “Can’t say that I have, sorry.”

You shrug, sighing and getting to your feet. You had expected that, but it still sucked. “Thanks anyway.” You gave one more look around the beach before you got ready to re-enter your body. “See you ‘round, I guess, if you don’t move on by the time I’m back.” You began to walk towards the water. You needed a cold shower to scrub off all your ugly feelings. You waded past the breakers, walking to hip-height. The next bit was always the trickiest - returning to your body from the seam. If you did it wrong you would wake up in the afterlife instead of your room.

A murmur from behind gave you pause, though. “I’ll be here.”

You look at him questioningly. Most souls didn’t feel like lingering on the beach for long.

“I’m waiting for my son.” He says simply and with the same resolve you had, deep in your bones, that you would find Sam.

You gave him a small smile and a wave goodbye. It wasn’t often you met people out here. And this guy was nice. He had a warm voice and soft eyes. Not to mention the fact he was handsome. You ignored that, though. You didn’t need to catch feelings for a dead guy.

You’d decided you liked him, though. “I’m Y/n.”

“Cliff.”

As you dove into the Seam and past the surf, you heard the faint sound of whistling pick up again.

You hoped he found his son soon.

--

You saw him three more times before Mama found Sam - and joined him for short chats each time. Only a few minutes long each, just as the first had been, but just as comfortable - he steered topics away from his family, though. You didn’t pry at obviously healing wounds, and he didn’t ask about your panic attacks. So instead you talked about the stars, and your plants back home that were probably dying, and how well the UCA was doing now that people were connecting.

You liked talking to him. It was easy, really. He drew star charts in the sand for you, telling you about constellations and their stories, about Orion and Hercules. And you told him about your greenhouse, and cheesy action movies, and your cat, Rocky, and how to make little paper cranes. He whistled just to fill the silence.

Then Mama had found Sam, and your little “We-Love-Sam” club had been all hands on deck trying to get him home.

Even after you got him back, the rest of the world was a whirlwind of activity and bureaucracy and you were just trying your best to adjust to your new nightmares that had replaced the old ones, and trying to repair your relationship with Fragile, and setting up new software systems with Lockne.

It wore you down more every day. You weren’t meant to be at Bridges, really - you were just a nerd who got pulled into this mess against your will. Being on such a short leash here in the city felt claustrophobic. And you were exhausted, barely able to sleep because every time you closed your eyes all you saw was masks and blood.

You didn’t visit the beach for three more weeks.

You needed to go home, back out west past Lake Knot City. Where you had all the breathing room you wanted. No surveillance-state wrist cuffs or shitty cafeteria food. Come to think of it, your plants had probably all died by now. At least your mom had taken care of Rocky while you were away.

Fragile was feeling better and was making runs again; she had agreed to take you home, despite how tense your friendship was. You felt bad for being so pissed at her, but every time you looked over your shoulder or thought you heard Higg’s voice, you got upset again. She wasn’t the one who hurt you but it didn’t matter. You weren’t safe and it was her fault. You didn’t know how long it would be before things were okay again.

Everyone else was staying for a while after Die-Hardman’s big speech, at least for a bit. And even though you knew to the core of your being Higgs wouldn’t dare show his face at Bridges ever again, you still had to leave before you broke completely. It was only a matter of time before you lost your shit cooped up like this. You needed your mountains back.

You had gotten Sam back and made sure he was okay. You weren’t needed here anymore. You needed to set up a new shelter, one that didn’t hurt you just to see. Maybe closer to the rest of your group this time. More secure. Better to get started now then wait.

You were on your way to meet Fragile when Deadman stopped you.

“Y/n, I know you’ll probably be busy back home, but I could really use some help. I’ve been looking into this Captain Unger figure that kept trying to take Sam’s BB, but I haven’t been able to get to the rest of his file,” He started, and you didn’t like where he was going with this. He needed something from you. “I know that it’s hiding there, somewhere in the network, but it has so many layers of encryption I can’t get through it myself.” He made a pleading motion with his hands, tilting his head and looking like a hopeful golden retriever.

This guy’s been pulling stuff like this for two months.

And you caved every damn time.

At least this time it was something interesting and not some stupid password algorithms. You sighed. “Yeah, yeah, sure, send it to me. But I’m still leaving now, Deadman.” You looked away from him as you pulled him into a hug, uncomfortable and blushing. You weren’t good with goodbyes or physical contact. “Take care of everyone, okay?” You mumbled into his blazer. Your voice almost broke.

“Of course I will.” He gave you a hard squeeze. You didn’t protest. “But you need to take care of yourself, too.”

It was bittersweet, really. You cared about everyone so much, but you were being suffocated. You needed to go home.

And so you did.

Although, later that night, after settling into your new, empty shelter, and enduring dinner with your entire family like it was Christmas, you were already missing everyone.

You settled into your bed and opened your tablet, replying to Heartman’s sappy messages, assuring him that you would absolutely message him every day and would always visit him on the beach if he needed company. That was how you’d met in the first place. Lockne had run a few ideas through your DMs, but it was mostly just her way of working out a problem. It was clever shit, too, it was hard to feel helpful with her sometimes.

By the time you got around Deadman’s message your eyes were drooping and you were fighting back yawns - but you figured you would read through what he already had before getting started in the morning. Just a quick skim-through, no big deal.

It was a big deal.

Because when you opened the file, you shot up with a gasp, eyes bulging practically out of their sockets. Your Cliff and Sam’s Cliff were the same Cliff! Holy shit!

You got up and paced restlessly, hands moving from your mouth to your head to your hips.

Fucking hell! He’d shot at Sam! Motherfucker!

But he was so nice? And made stupid jokes, and helped keep you grounded?

You sat back on your bed, Rocky staring at you like you were nuts, and you ran through everything Sam had told you about Cliff. You fished through your memory, for when he recounted what nutso things Amelie had told him.

“Apparently that Cliff guy was brought back to teach me a lesson or something? I don’t know what she meant by that, but it did seem like he was pretty out of it most of the time. I don’t know if he’ll be hanging around beaches again or not, but he shouldn’t be botherin me and Lou anymore, and that’s all that really matters.”

Ah, screw sleep, you needed answers. This was going to keep you up all night, you just knew it. So you unpacked your PC and got cracking.

By the morning, you sent Cliff’s fully recovered file to Deadman. Sam deserved to hear news like that in person. His dad was… badass, honestly.

After that you slept until three PM. Then you went to the beach.

The world lurched around you as your soul left your body.

When you got to Cliff Unger’s - Sam’s Father’s - beach, there was no one there. Just the whistling of the wind.

He was gone.

You told yourself it was for the best.

You didn’t need to catch feelings for a dead guy, after all.

[popculturebuffet]

Reviewcaps: Star Vs: Club Snubbed

Dance week kicks off!  I finally advance in the tomtrospective as Star makes the critical mistake of listening to ponyhead and causes a dad fight that threatens to spill into an international incident unless she and Tom can get along. Tom dosen’t know how to be nice under the cut. 

And we’re back! As I put in my latest amphibia review a combination of a busy few weeks and other things to cover has kept me from doing more reviews, and as such I left this on the backburner. But I decided that just ain’t right so this week, i’m not only bringing back the tomtrospective, but i’m doing a whole bundle of dance themed episodes because as i’ve made clear in the past, and making clear for you I love em. I never went to my own school dances and the one dance I went to for Demolay was fun enough, so that mixed with the shipping, hilariaty and usual good quality brought to these affairs made me want to do a theme week after Owl House last week, but ennui made me reconsider. So now i’m re-reconsidering. Lucky you! With that we can move on.  Unlike the last few tom reviews, this one.. takes place after about 80 pounds of plot have happened, so it’s time for a fuck ton of exposition to refresh your memories:  PREVIOUSLY ON STAR VS:

OH GOD WHY OKAY i GET IT THE GAG’S OVER... MOVING ON TO THE ACTUAL EXPOSITION. YEESH But yeah since we could largely sidestep the main story since tom came in literally before it in season 1 and it was irrelvant to him in season 2, I have a lot to cover.  Over the last two seasons, Toffee, a septarian warrior who assinated moon’s mom despite her almost brokering peace between monsters and mewman when Moon was just a teenager, plotted and schemed to destroy all magic, having star nuke the wand to spilit it in half, manupliating ludo from the inside of his half and then using his new existance as pure magic to slowly destroy it from the inside while using ludo as a puppet when necessary. Meanwhile , Star started to catch feelings for Marco just as Marco was getting somewhere with his crush Jackie Lynn Thomas, who star was being his wing man with unaware of her own feelings. This came to a head when a dance, yes another one, happened where Jackie asked Marco out on their first proper date, Star was jealous but couldn’t figure out why and this distracted her enough to let Ludo sneak in with his army of rats and then take the book.  Stars parents, in a suprising move for her mom more than her dad, accepted what happened and trusted her, though Moon started covertly working to get the book back under the nose of her allies in the magical high comission. Meanwhile Toffee revealed himself, while Star finally did realize her feelings for marco and proceded to supress them.  This all came to a head in the last two episodes of season 2: First Star had her song day, which meant having a song wirtten about her which was honest.. a bit too honest as it revealed her parents hiding the book, leading to the people being upset with our king and queen and the commission understadanbly being pissed Moon didn’t tell them sooner. Oh and the song also, without star’s consent, revealed she’s intrested in marco... right in front of Marco. And this part is actually really important to today’s episode but we’ll get to that.  Star continued to deny having feelings for Marco instead of working through them as the school year ended, while Moon and the comisson lead a raid on the monster castle, which will also be important later, TOffe was headquartered in. Things quickly went pear shaped, with Toffee easily murdering most of the comission, including moon by sucking out their life force to increase his own power, since their all made of magic, and only lekmet, the comisson’s wise sorta leader and team healer, surivived, using the last of his own life force to save moon before ending up as a pile of dust and a horn with Moon quickly escaping with the rest of her allies.. and Toffee omniously saying he was coming for Star and his finger.  Moon naturally panicked and told star they were leaving, possibly forever, for her own saftey, and Star confessed how she felt to Marco.. in front of Jackie> Which is never dealt with even when Jackie comes back. 

Also this confession isn’t dealt with until near the tail fucking end of season 3. God dammit star vs , just god damn. Anyways Moon tried to both hide star and ressurect her commrades, while a miserable Marco headed back to mewnit o find her only to get captured with river when Ludo, under toffe’s advisment, took hte castle.. and not under his advisment destroyed the book and it’s keeper and local asshat glossaryck.  Star eventually said “Fuck that” to “Hide and hope he never finds us” moon learned some lessons about racial tolerance she promptly unlearned next season, and Star dove into her wand with Ludo’s help, as Ludo had started to catch on to the frequent blackouts. Turns out that was toffe’s plan as he apparently kills star, and finished off magic and now restored, just casually walks off after easily taking out star’s allies.. including a greiving moon and marco. Also marco punches a whole in his chest. 

But STar manages to restore magic, unlock her butterfly form and reduce Toffee to a puddle of goo which Ludo finished off.. which also means moon’s attempt to dicker Eclipsa out of freedom just got undone. Yayyyy! I mean oh no.. no no I mean yay. She’s the best part of season 3.  So ALLL of that was to get to the status quo at this point: Marco goes home after a few weeks where again, the confession thing? Never brought up, while Star vows to stay to be a better princess. And yeah this does bring up one of Season 3′s biggest issues as despite Marco having dimensional scissors, the show constnatly acts like he can’t you know visit or vice versa. They just use the other dimension thing as a lazy excuse to write the earth side cast out even though....

I went with a Picard  one because why not. I get it being HARD for either ot make time for the other.. but make that a PLOT POINT instead of saying “oh you have to pick one”. Because it makes no fucking sense. Especially since star can still CALL THEM, so there’s no sense in them being absent from each other’s lives. Just schedule. Jesus. And it only gets WORSE from there.  Yeah see Season 3 is where the quality starts to get... 50/50. And unlike Amphibia where the last few weeks before marcy have been more one mediocre episode and one great episode the qulaity here is more “some great episodes, some utter abominations of episodes that destroy character or any semblance of plot” and some just okay ones too. Thankfully the first few from the season we have to cover for Tom, for the boy, are really good.. but we’ll get into the shit soon enough.. and somebody’s gotta shovel it. And so it might as well be me. But for now instead of shoveling horse crap we’re shoveling giant piles of sugar so pitter patter, let’s get at er, this is club snubbed.  It’s 2017, a winter’s ball and the butterfly family.. is actually not doing great, as most of the other kingdoms seem to view them as week for the whole rat invasion thing.. or at least the spider bites do. Yup this is where we meet the king, queen and daughter penelope. Aka two assholes who are dumb and I hate them and their precious daughter who I hope overthrows them. To thorw back to my loud house reviews, I hate them more than rusty. And look at him. LOOK AT HIM. 

The one in the center. Look at him. LOOK AT HIM.  Okay my irational hatred of the little prick, which isn’t entirely irrational aside the spider bites are rude, condescending, and really need to be overthrown so Penelope can take their throne. I just hate htem.. but unlike Rusty they don’t show up as much and that’s literally all I can say nice about htem. Penelope seems nice and I wish she got more screentime and she has an intresting romance we’ll get into in a few episodes, but  they are just.. their the kind of people you don’t want to be trapped in a room with alone for a prolonged amount of time. The kind of married couple other married couples, I conjecture i’m single and very lonely mind, are awkwardly roped into spending time with and then have to get drunk to ignore them sniping at each other or that ends in a who’s afraid of virginia wolfe situation. Thankfully their barely in this episode I just felt like getting my hate out at them since i’m probably not covering surviving the spider-bites for a while.  Anyways while they snipe at River who fires back “They were really big rats’ and I mean.. who does that.. who comes to someone elses house and tells htem they suck under their breath.. I mean rich assholes obviously, I answered my own question there but at least do it at your own house or on the carraige ride home sheesh. Your lucky river didn’t elbow drop both of you. It’s what you deserved.  Okay enough bitching about this stuff, the asshole kingdom, and penelope, along with all the other kingdoms of mewni are here for the silver bell ball, an annual tradition to reinvgorate the ties between kingdoms. It’s also how star and tom met, and that’s the topic of discussion with Star and her best friend, Pony Head... of the pony heads. Why yes a major chacter on this show is a talking horses head who acts like a mean teenage girl. And why no I have no idea where her species food goes or how she digests it, I frankly don’t want to know. Some things are better left unknown.  Anywho yeah this is my first review with ponyhead in it and she’s a divisive character to say the least. Some hate her , some love her, some REALLY hate her.. me.. I find her 50/50. Sometimes she can be really funny and entertaining and a good counterpoint to star, other time she’s obnoxious and a waste of hte wonderful Jenny Slate’s talents. This time she’s more obnoxious as this entire plot is partly her fault, btu we’ll get to that. We do get her and star scoping out the other royals, though Star’s unintresteds since she knows all of them, and Pony is only intersted because Larry kelpbotom got hot.. just like archie. And he’s got abs, just like archie. Two sentences I never would’ve said for years and years but that’s what Riverdale does to you. Back on topic the two talk Tom’s transparent absence and them having met and ponyhead having predicted drama. the two then horse around a bit before moon dickishly shushes them. Star only goes along with it because she’s trying to be a better princess, hence her staying on mewni at all now the danger’s passed, but yeah... even with moon’s backstory this moment just.. isn’t every plesant. Because while her backstory explains al ot, it dosen’t forgive how she treats star at times, as all star was doing here was being a normal teenage girl and not kicking her door down or anything. Star greets the other princes and princesses, including penelope, all of who I wish had more screentime. “Sigh” It’s then we get TOM. Horay!. And his family! Double horay, Queen Wrathmelor Lucitor and King Dave Lucitor. And yes I love how , just like the prince of the underworld is named Tom, the king, even if by marraige presumibly, is named dave. King Dave. I love it. Dave is a normal sized guy while his wife is giant.. and I can conjecture how they had tom but this isn’t hte place for that. The point is their perfectly lovely people, and I like that they zigged from where they were likelky orignally going with tom having abusive parents. INstead as far as I can figure they merley spoiled him and that combined with growing up in the unusual enviroment of the underworld and their own unresolved anger issues meaning they never thought to teach him how to deal with them properly. More on this later.  Anyways tom is here and in shades, because his parents are good people and River warmly greets the lucitors. IT’s time for the ball to get underway. 

Glad you asked. Basically each prince or princess asks each other prine or princess to dance, until everyone's dance with everyone. Simple. However suprisingly for him, Tom picks princess Jags to dance first. It’s then Pony ruins everything because she’s Ponyhead, and i’ts her special life skill. She tells Star tom’s “Club Snubbing” her... basically showing intrest in other girls to specifically act like he isn’t intrested.. which to be fair....

DOES sound like something Tom would do.. and what Pony’s doing to Larry because she’s a terrible person. It isn’t what he’s doing, we’ll get to the why at the right time, but it’s not unfair of star to suspect that. 

So Star decides to get even, pettily, by dancing with rich and talking him up and each keeps picking the other royals.. which worries dave and river because of course it does. And yeah star is being petty here... but I get it and sympahtise with it. Tom’s pulled some really manipulative shit the last few times he’s been around and she’s likely sick of it. She probably even got second hand sick of hearing what he did to marco. 

So she’s probably just fed up with his bullshit.. and she still DOES think he’s cute, as was made clear by his first proper apperance, she’s just tired of him being a jackass about perusing her when she’s no longer intrested. Which is fair. Tom is trying to be better.. but i’ts understandable why Star thinks he’s just still doing the same old shit just on a diffrent day.  So it comes down to both of htem with Moon hoping star dances with tom.. and naturally, still pissy she dances with Manfried , the butterflies butler, who’se delighted.. a bit too happy.. someone call the police.  Anyways Dave and River start to argue over whose club snubbing who.. as I said Tom has his dad, and his moms but again future episodes, anger. Dave is more controlled because he’s had more life experince but it’s clear enough stress can cause him to snap, as we see here.. he just dosen’t have his son’s demonic powers thank god.. he is clearly built under those robes though.. or at least you know skinny but a bit muscular. I mean otherwise Wrath would be a widow after tom’s conception. 

But tom just.. walks out sadly instead of reacting which further pisses star off and she follows. But this time as i’ve been making clear.. Tom has genuinely changed. He’s NOT doing some creepy scheme to manipulate her into taking him back, he learned from last time.. and from song day. See I told you it was important. He figured she was with Marco now, and isn’t mad as he puts it.. he saw it as a wake up call. She’s not into him and probably won’t be.. granted I thought he’d already learned that lesson, but i’ll let it pass. The point is he decided to give her space by not asking her and would’ve if she asked him. He was genuinely trying to be nice and respectful to her. And here’s where I can finally stop shit talking tom for the most part which thank god. I love the guy, I wouldn’t be retrospectiving him if I didn’t love this character and see him as my own surrogate fictoinal son. But I had to be honest and who Tom is at first, isn’t a good person.. but this episode and others give more weight as to the why, as well as show him genuinely TRYING. He wants to be better he just dosen’t know how... as is highlighed with star not wanting to be ignored, and Tom flipping out in a demonic rage  “I DON’T KNOW HOW TO BE NICE, AT LEAST GIVE ME CREDIT FOR TRYING”.  Which is what I put a pen in earlier with his parents; His parents are genuinely nice good people.. but the underworld is a diffrent, dangerous place with diffrent standards. So they likely didn’t realize their son had a troubling anger problem because of that, because a lot of the underworld is wild and vicious, until he started harassing star and doing something that raised a real red flag passed normal underworld standards. The two then quack quack bicker bicker in the sky, with an extra sized extra angry cloudy. CLOUDY YAY.. until a chair passes throught he window.  Our heroes run in to see the dad fight as esccalated to a wrestling match, and is about to esclate to an international incident. Star, seeing this can’t possibly end well, finally asks tom to dance which he agrees to not wanting to see a large bearded man beat up his dad. Probably how Domink Mysterio felt a few weeks ago honestly. And his entire life.  And then we get the dance.. and it’s fucking gorgeous. It’s slow and methodical, with the two at first doing this reluctnatly.. but as it goes on their walls break and the two genuinely have fun and it turns from two exes stiffly doing a dance to keep their dads from killing each other,... to somethin genuinely romantic and visually gorgeous as butterflies and flames errupt from their repsective feet before carrying them into the air and creating a beautiful tornado together. Disney really knows how to do a good dance sequence... maybe not gay representation until last week, and even then they had to be dragged into it more on that another time, but .. damn if they can’t animate pretty. It’s a genuinely beautiful sequence and easily tops the one from Blood Moon Ball.. not an easy feat mind as I say this with no bisas. I may not LIKE starco, at least not without some heavy continuity revisions.. but that dance was objectively good and so’s this one. The two land, moon rings the fucking bell to end things because again sh’es kind of a dick, and Wrathmelor causes earthquakes with her claps and reign of lava mom tearfs. Aww what a sweetheart. 

So Tom asks star for a corn shake, which she accepts, aww and Ponyhead is carried out by an entorauge. Eugh. The two laugh adorably together at her shenanigans, for some reason, to close out the episode.  Final Thoughts: Excellent even better than I remembered.. though it still has one or two problems, like what tom’s really doing being kinda obvious based on his body laungauge and middle part being mildly repeititive. But it’s all overridden by great character work, goregous animation and some neat world building as we meet the rest of mewni , most for the first time. I do genuinely wished they’d done more with them. And honestly.. tom and star are more adorable than I remembered. I think a combinaton of star’s later actions and the fact i wanted my starco dammit and figured tom wouldn’t last, I was mostly wrong as it took almost two full seasons for them to break up and we’ll get to that, so I had no real investment. I was annoyed he was seemingly just being throwni n the way as an obstacle to the main ship hwen they clearly changed their minds and he became more.. and then exactly that later because I can’t have nice things. We’ll get to that. But yeah a solid, enchanting episode and a good start to dance week. If you have a star vs episode you want me to review, just hit me up in akss or subits or comission it directly using those same options, or any other cartoon for that matter and follow me for more reviews as I cover Amphibia every week and will return to regular ducktales coverage at the end of september. Tom will return shortly. Until then stay safe, wear a mask, and later days. 

[banashee]

  Just another day, another mountain to climb together

 One moment, he’s just minding his business, then someone jumps at him. Or, more precisely,      on     him.

 It probably should be noted that this isn’t a “I will violently murder you”-jump, it’s… More of a “Save me and carry me bridal style”-jump. Clint holds out his arms out of sheer instinct and drops his Starbucks Cup in the process. Aw, coffee, no.

 He looks wide eyed and confused when he realizes that he’s holding none other than Tony, who blinks owlishly at him and looks just as confused, as if he only just realized what the hell is happening. If he did, that is, because Clint has no fucking clue what in the hell is even going on.

 “The fuck?” he asks, because yeah, that.

 “Uh.” Tony replies very eloquently, and he looks like he won’t be any help. He’s pale with giant purple eyebags and a messy beard in his face, wearing clothes that are stained with unknown substances and could possibly stand on their own. It’s clear that he’s been awake for far too long, and that, in turn, explains a lot.

 “There was a loud noise.” he offers, and yeah, there is a folder on the floor where it just slipped from the kitchen table. Now that he looks - with Tony still in his arms because he’ll probably fall right on his ass if he puts him down right now - Tony is also clutching the back of his shirt, although he now slowly, very slowly let’s go of it - Clint can see Phil hunched over on his seat, one hand pressed over his mouth and shoulders shaking. He fails to suppress his chortling laughter, though.

 “I’m sorry, it’s just - your faces!” he manages, and then proceeds to laugh his ass off. He is right though - Clint is pretty sure they look like something straight out of a comedy movie, and if he’s honest, anything that catches Phil off-guard and makes him laugh like that is well worth it.

 “I dropped my fucking coffee for you.” he then dryly informs Tony, who actually looks a bit sorry about that - Clint blames it on the clear lack of sleep because otherwise this asshole would laugh it off and say, “Too bad.” before pulling a new cup from somewhere soon-ish as a peace offering because they all live off of caffeine and no one messes      too much    with that.

 Now though, he doesn't say anything and Clint is pretty sure he might just fall asleep there if he'd let him - he deposits him on a chair, which leads Tony to sway back and forth a little bit while Clint makes a beeline for the coffee machine to get a new cup - it’s not like there isn’t more than enough caffeinated drinks here, but he’s been craving a sugary coffee shop monstrosity so that’s what he’d gotten. And promptly dropped it to catch a sleep deprived engineer, apparently, because that’s just his life these days.

 He takes care of the mess while the coffee runs through.

  When Clint turns back around, Tony is snoring lightly, toppled over with his head on Phils shoulder, who just keeps reading the report in his hands.

 When Clint sits down on the table, Tony startles awake, and blinks a few times.

 “I’m awake. Totally awake.” One side of his hair is sticking up everywhere and he looks more confused than ever. And also kind of adorable.

 “You were snoring.”

 “I do that when I’m awake.”

 “Sure you do.” He’s smirking, and inhales his coffee as Tony nods along to his words, rather enthusiastically, and promptly falls back asleep.

 He shares a look with Phil, who smiles in silent amusement, and steals a sip of coffee from Clint's mug.

 *+~ flashback ~+*

 The two of them are pretty close ever since they really got to know each other after the Battle of New York, all Capital Letters and all over the news. That particular week left everyone a mess - some more than others, but still.

 Clint has to deal with the aftermath of mindfuckery, total loss of control and killing friends, coworkers and innocent people in the process. He has to deal with being partly responsible for a lot of fucked up things including an alien invasion and even though it wasn’t him holding the spear, his intel is what lead Loki to stabbing Phil through the chest.

 Clint has to deal with being responsible for the death of his husband, the love of his life. That alone is enough to wreck him completely.

 SHIELD keeps questioning every word and move, and decided it would be safer for everyone if Clint spends the time it took them all to figure out whether or not he is to blame locked up in a windowless cell. He’d completely shut down at this point, and when he wakes up one day, he finds himself in a warm, clean and comfortable bed in a room in the tower with no memory of how he’d even gotten there.

 Turns out, SHIELD released him, and Natasha had busted him out as soon as she possibly could. He asks her about that later, and she quietly admits that she would have gotten him out, no matter what. But the fact that it had happened in a legal way would be in his favor - instead of having to run and hide somewhere far away, he is now able to live, rest and heal in the Avengers Tower where he’s around friends.

 Living with a bunch of people he’d only met a small handful of times before should be awkward, but it’s not. It just - works. Quite well even, once they’ve gotten to know each other a bit, started to thaw around each other, learned to trust and let themselves be.

 It feels good to be around people. It feels good to have company, to be able to seek out another human being even late at night when loneliness or grief hits.

 Anytime Tony closes his eyes since the battle, all he sees is stars and a wide, open space that’s way too far to make out with the human eye. It’s an endless void of galaxies, stars and planets, all scattered about space and not nearly enough time in a single humans life to discover it all. It should be beautiful and fascinating, but anytime he thinks about it, he’s terrified out of his mind and breathing gets hard for a while after.

 He stops sleeping whenever he can, because the nightmares are worse than insomnia. Everything gets mixed up, and his recent space travel with a nuke is just the icing on this fucked up, scary cake of baggage.

 So, it’s only natural that at some point, he crosses ways with another resident of the tower, while he wanders about at night because JARVIS locked him out of his workshop. He does that sometimes, just to make sure Tony doesn’t seriously injures himself  or sets the entire place on fire.

 To be fair, he hasn’t slept in      days     and he doesn’t think about the fact that Clint might not be wearing his ears when he steps up behind him in the half dark kitchen without a word.

 He is reminded of it when the archer startles and turns quickly, one hand reaching for the kitchen knife on the counter, eyes wide and tremors running through his entire body before he tenses up completely, ready for combat. When he grasps a second later that it’s Tony who he’s looking at, staring in horror, he immediately drops the weapon to the floor.

 “Fuck! Sorry! I’m sorry, I didn’t realize-” He’s breathing hard, and there is something dark and painful in his blue eyes, before he pulls himself together and pushes it back.

 “I’m sorry.” he repeats, a little calmer this time, “I didn’t mean to scare you. Or hurt you.”

 “It’s okay, I guess I should have said something, or-”      ‘Great idea, Stark.’     he thinks, cringing inwardly but it doesn’t seem to bother Clint. He just looks on his lips while he's talking, which seems to help him make out the words. Clint nods in understanding as Tony finishes off with an apology of his own.

 Both of them need a bit of time to compose themselves, and luckily, there is a fresh, hot pot of coffee on the table. They share it in silence, then Clint says,

 “You can, you know.” Tony looks over, questioning and heavy-lidded. He really is tired, but sleep means nightmares. Unless he just keeps going until he passes out - he’s usually too wiped to dream anything, then.

 “Talk to me when you walk up behind me and I’m not wearing my ears, I mean.”  Clint clarifies, “I’ll be able to tell that there is a noise, better than just footsteps.”

 “Oh. Okay, that’s good to know. I’ll do that next time.”

 “Thanks, Tony.” he rubs his face, and stares into his half empty mug of coffee for a moment, then he keeps talking.

 “Are you okay?”

 The question surprises him a bit, and Tony is about to throw in a quip about still standing and not getting stabbed that day. But he’s literally too tired for snark, and the question seems both genuine and general. So, despite himself, he answers honestly.

 "Not really. Haven't slept in a while." he doesn't say anything about a wormhole and aliens, but it seems to be in the air. And as it is, Clint nods in understanding.

 "Yeah, I get that."  And he does. He can't remember the last time he slept more than 1 or 2 hours at a time, let alone through the night.

 It must have been way before all of this, when he'd spent a rare long weekend off at home with Phil. It was their last vacation, their last bit of free time home together, ever. The following week they had to depart to base in New Mexico for the Pegasus OP.

 They spent most of this time wrapped around each other in bed, because it had been a nasty, stormy week. Their apartment in Brooklyn was well heated, comfortable and lived in, but body heat has always been their favorite way to keep each other warm, and-

 Clint blinks a few times, coming back to the cold reality. No cozy off time with Phil, because he is dead and it's his fault.

 A pang of longing and grief stabs him in the heart, and Clint doesn't say anything more, hoping it's dark enough in the room so he can hide the shine of sadness in his eyes.

 He feels nausea rise in his throat, but downs the rest of his coffee nonetheless in an attempt to swallow it along with his emotions.

 Neither he or Tony say another word for hours. They simply sit in silence at the kitchen table at 3am, share another pot of coffee and breathe along with a friend because it's the only thing they can do to keep themselves going.

  It works. For a little while, it's enough.

 *~+

 Nights spent in silence and drinking coffee turn into keeping each other company through the nights. It is a desperate attempt to fill the cold space next to them in a bed and keep the night terrors at bay. They can’t and don’t want to replace romantic partners, but just being close to another human that they trust is enough to keep them going. A warm body to curl around, as to not feel as alone anymore.

 Time passes by, and things get better, although the struggles never really disappear.

 One day, Clint realizes that several months have passed since the battle and Phil dying and everything else. He needs to sit down in shock when he thinks about that, and the fact that he now can live, eat, sleep and laugh, even though the pain is still present in the back of his mind, leaves him stunned for a while as he remains on the spot without moving.

 Some days, he is genuinely happy and doesn’t really think about it very much, and if he’s lucky that holds up for a few more days. Then again, there are days, or of it’s bad, weeks, where everything hits at once and it hurts just as bad as it did at the beginning.

 There is at least some kind of balance, and he manages life as best as he can. Having the others around helps tremendously.

 While Clint is kind of a loner by habit, he is actually dependent on a small group of people around him by nature. It’s not something he likes to think about, because words like “failure”, “useless” and “weak” keep creeping through his brain, even when he firmly tells it to shut the hell up.

 As it is, he actually enjoys the company of his teammates a lot.

 He’s close to Natasha of course, seeing as they’ve been best friends for years and always have each others back.

 Whether they walk into battle side by side or beat each other’s asses on the sparring mats, compete on the shooting range, share meals or just hang out, whether they curl up somewhere just to share each other's company and body heat, it doesn't matter.  They work together like a well oiled machine and it’s a bit of home left over from the early days for both of them and they keep close to each other whenever they’re in the same place.

 Sometimes though, there are days or weeks where they’re apart for mission related or other reasons. They keep in touch if they can, but life is not quite the same then.

 Over the time, Clint get’s comfortable around everyone else as well. Surprisingly, or not really, because they’re similar in quite a few aspects, he quickly forms a friendship with Tony.

 Both of them are around at the tower a lot of the time and both of them are more or less of a disaster. They randomly meet at all hours of the day or night, keeping each other company and bond quickly.

 What starts out as sharing coffee and spaces in the middle of the night turns into spending free time with one another and at some point even sharing a bed to help each other through cold and lonely nights. It sounds wrong when you say it like that, but there really is nothing sexual about it. They’re close, and both of them have enough trust issues that they’re happy to have another friend they can be that close with.

 Neither could tell when they started to jokingly flirt on occasion or call each other awful pet names.

 “Hey Snuggluffagus.” - “What’s up, Shmoopie.”

 “Oh, hi Honeybun, can you come down to the lab later?” - “Sure thing, Cupcake.”

 It makes everyone around them groan without a fail, and leaves them with the desire to scrub their brains with bleach because most those names are just      that terrible.    They’re all having a laugh about it  - whatever brightens the day.

 Clint is also close with Bruce, Steve and Thor, who are around more or less often depending on their schedules but they all get along fine. They share meals and time not fighting whatever it is that week, and soon grow a steady friendship as well.

 He likes to cook or bake with Bruce, or watch nature documentaries in the middle of the night with him. Clint is fascinated with birds, something that he makes Bruce swear to keep to himself because the jokes about that and his codename would never die down. Ever. No one needs that. So they keep each other company on late nights and early mornings - sometimes even with a person or two more, and then it's easy to forget the crippling feeling of loneliness for a while.

 Bruce knows loneliness. He also knows what it is like to lose control and kill innocent people in the process. It's not great common ground, but it's a strong one. They don't talk very often about it, but it's nice to know that someone      understands    .

 Bruce is incredibly easy to get along with, too. He is a sweet guy, keeping mostly to himself at first but once he trusts and relaxes, he's a lot of fun to be around, dry humor and excitable about anything really, especially if one utters the magic words "for science".

 One day, when Clint is in the gym and working out  Bruce enters the room in a jog, rumpled and sleepless after days down in the lab, but clearly happy about something. He  then spends about an hour telling Clint about the newest breakthrough in one of his projects, simply because he's closest at the moment, jogging along and later sitting on his Teammates back as a human weight. He keeps on chatting the entire time, explaining things in a manner that Clint even      gets     what Bruce is working on and why it is exciting. It's interesting, and he thinks it's nice that someone seeks him out for the sole purpose of sharing excitement about something important to them.

 Steve, once he drops the Captain Persona and is confident in being himself, is easy to get along with as well - a lot easier probably than he gets credit for, but he'd never ask for that. He is a good guy to talk to in general, sweet and polite, but also a snarky asshole once he grows comfortable around people - he's pretty great to be around.

 Steve likes to do anything and everything that involves new technology or information of any kind, especially art, and he explores the 21st century with almost childlike wonder. It often reminds Clint that the guy is in his  20s - people tend to forget that he's that young, what with Steve being a national icon and often being referred to as "almost 100 years old" and all that but it doesn't really count of you've spent the majority of those years asleep and frozen, right? It really is sad to think about.

 As capable, strong and intelligent as Steve is, Clint feels protective of him - he feels that way about all of his teammates actually, even though most of them could snap him in half if they really wanted to. It doesn't change a thing.

 Thor doesn't spend as much time down on Midgard, but when he does, he's always great company. He is loud and booming in almost everything he does, happily lifting the others off of their feet when he pulls them into bone crushing hugs and smiles and laughs so radiantly - it brightens the entire day, and that in itself is another superpower of their resident God of Thunder.

 Thor likes to turn meals into massive feasts, trading stories until the sun rises again, and they cook breakfast together while the conversation never stops. Those are good times, and it brings them all closer together.

 But he also has a gentle, much more quiet side to him that they hadn't known of before. Thor is always willing to spend a sleepless night with one or more of them, offering company and words of encouragement or advice, or simply silence and a strong shoulder to lean or cry on, depending on what is needed of him. He happily provides all of it.

 Clint has talked to him about the battle, about Loki and everything after. He does so at a time where he isn't up to talking about these things with anyone except maybe Natasha, and it's hard. They sit on the rooftop at night, watching the sky even though there are no stars visible due to the light pollution. Clint doesn't look directly at him, stubbornly keeping his eyes on the city below them until his vision is blurry from tears.

 Thor doesn't say a word about it, he simply puts his arm around the smaller man's frame and lets him lean into the gentle touch.

 The night is chilly, but with him, Clint doesn't feel the cold and stays close until he can breathe again.

 *+~

 Since Clint spends a significant amount of time with Tony these days , naturally, he spends a lot of it with Rhodey and Pepper as well, whenever any of the two is around. And really, it doesn't take long at all to see why Tony loves them so much.

 Pepper is smart, strong and capable, which is always something that Clint can appreciate. But she's also such a kind person while simultaneously not taking anyone's shit - it's a rare and admirable combination in a person that way too many are lacking.

 She is also a massive nerd, about art and movies and anything else that might catch her interest. This reminds Clint of Phil, often times, because he'd had a lot in common with Pepper and called her a dear friend.

 It is a regrettable coincidence that Clint has met her only after everything had gone to shit. It's a shame, really.

 Rhodey is, in anything but blood, Tony's brother. He looks out for him, and the people around him because he cares and it's who he is. It helps that he'll always call him out on his bullshit, too.

 He's funny and protective and a great friend - Clint likes him immediately. Everyone is in agreement that Rhodey isn't around nearly often enough, but he comes over whenever he can.

 Usually, Tony is right there to greet him, but one day, he's running an update on Jarvis who usually announces any visitor, so Tony isn't in the living room when Rhodey steps out of the elevator - Clint can practically smell his once in a lifetime opportunity and grins widely before he turns to yell into the other room:

 "Tony, your common sense arrived!"

 It's met with an clatter of something, followed by an enthusiastic shout of "Rhodey!!" and the man in question bursting into roaring laughter.

 "Just how long did you wait to make that joke, Clint?" he asks the archer with an amused sparkle in his dark eyes.

 "Months, dude. Months. I'm way too happy about this." Clint confesses unashamedly, and then Tony comes running to tackle his best friend into a hug and to the floor.

 It’s a strange mix of people, but they’re all pretty damn great in their own ways, and together, this seemingly impossible concoction works out beautifully.

 No one in this household sleeps a lot or very well to begin with, so meeting up at odd hours is normal for them, too. It helps to be known and understood, and soon, they all keep each other company whenever it’s needed, too.

 Clint has spent most of his life lonely, and yet, the nearly 12 years of relationship and even more as friends he's had with Phil taught him that company doesn't have to hurt, that it can be the most wonderful thing in the world to wake up enveloped with another person under warmy heavy sheets. Those years taught him what trust and love and comfort really feel like.

 Now, that Phil has been taken from him, he can no longer stand to fall asleep and wake up alone in an empty bed.

 He's eternally grateful to have found this team.

 He's eternally grateful that Tony spends as many nights with him as he does and they wrap around each other to breathe in the warmth and comfort of one another.

 They fit - in a different way but still and Clint vows not to think too much about that. The guilt of thinking about "what if" and "maybe" feels like a punch to the guts, and Clint keeps that to himself as he's falling asleep with his head pillowed on Tony, with the faint blue shine of the Arc reactor right by his face as gentle fingers sleepily brush through his hair.

 *~+

 More time goes by, and life is life, as much as it can be for a bunch of damaged people who save the world on a semi-regular basis and stick together before and after.

 Then, one day, everything changes again, because as they find out that Phil is alive and still in medical where he recovered not only from getting stabbed back with Loki's spear, but also, mostly still recovering, from the invasive and party alien procedure that ended up saving his life.

 And no one bothered to tell Clint, or anyone else for that matter. They only find out because Tony is digging through top secret SHIELD files via JARVIS, because he is suspicious and ridden with the constant need to find answers. When he comes across those particular files, he curses up a blue storm and rushes upstairs to tell Clint and Nat and then the rest of the team.

 It’s like every wound rips open again, and Clint is about to personally murder Nick Fury. The rest of the team is tempted to let him - but at the end of the day, the director walks away alive while the Avengers pile onto a jet to get to the medical facility that holds Phil.

 Tony is piloting the jet while the others pace and Natasha is crammed into the tiny bathroom with Clint who is busy fighting off a panic attack and clinging onto her for dear life. Besides the panic about everything crashing down around him, he is torn between excitement about getting to see his husband again, something he’d thought impossible and had to learn to live with, and being scared shitless of anything going wrong. What if Phil doesn’t want to see him, or worse, what if he doesn’t remember him after all that was done to bring him back to life?

 But for once, life is kind.

 When Clint knocks and enters the room cautiously, while the team is staying behind in the hallway to give them privacy and not to overwhelm Phil, the look on Phil's face turns from empty exhaustion to genuinely surprised happiness when he realizes who is coming. He is pale and has lost way too much weight, but he lights up like a christmas tree at the sight of his husband.

 “Clint? Hey, it’s good to see you, Honey.” He sounds rough, but the sparkle in his eyes speaks volumes.

 “I’m sorry I couldn’t be here earlier, Phil. I- we had no idea.” Clint crosses the room in a few steps, and sits down on the edge of the bed before his knees give up beneath him. Phil immediately reaches out for him, and he gets a hold of his hand and doesn’t let go. Clint leans as close as he can, and Phil melts against the touch. They hold onto each other for a while - it’s been too long.

 “How are you?” he asks, and despite his best attempts to hold back, there are tears stinging in his eyes and seconds later, they drip down onto the bed sheet.

 “I’m healing. I just - I’m glad you’re here, Clint. I’ve missed you so much.” Phil tightens his hold around Clint, as if he’s afraid he’ll be gone if he lets go of him. Clint hugs back as hard as he dares, too scared he might accidentally hurt him.

 “Are you okay?” Phil asks then, but he has a feeling he already knows the answer. Clint stays silent for a while after that, just nods slightly. Then he says,

 “I’ve missed you, too. I can’t even - this is insane, but I’m so happy you’re alive. I love you, Phil.”

 He hasn’t said that yet, and it seems about time. Phil smiles, and kisses his scruffy jaw.

 “I love you, too.” then he asks, “Did Nick finally tell you what happened after- ? I’ve bugged him about it since I woke up, but he said it wasn’t possible.”

 Phil sounds resigned, and it just about breaks Clint’s heart. It seems so unnecessary and unfair that they both had to do this alone and without each other when they’d been through so much together before, had been each others rock for so many years.

 “Nick didn’t tell me shit.” Clint says darkly, gently running one hand up and down Phil’s back,  “I only found out because Tony was digging through SHIELD files. He does that sometimes.” He shrugs, unconcerned, and Phil huffs a laugh.

 “Of course he would.”

 “Just a normal tuesday, really. But this time he came across more, and when he realized you’re still alive, well… He told me right away, and Tasha, too. The others are all here as well and they’re waiting outside. But they’ll want to see you, too.”

 “Yeah, okay. I’d like that.”

 As it is, Natasha is the first to join them - she’s missed Phil almost as much as Clint did, and she stays close to both of them for the entire time, even when the other Avengers slowly trickle into the room.

 Something heavy seems to fall off of them, and while everyone makes themselves comfortable around the room, Clint feels like something clicks into place.

 *+~

 Phil is happy to be able to get out of the hospital - Clint and Natasha stay with him the entire time until he’s released. It happens sooner than originally planned, but there is medical care near at all times back home in the tower.

 There is also one hell of a lot more privacy and people he actually wants to be around.

 Getting to know the team as they are now is exciting he finds. He is very pleasantly surprised to see how much they have all grown together, to see how they function around and with each other in everyday life and in battle.

 Phil is also happy to see that the two people he considered his family for years, have opened up to accept others around them. For as long as he's known Clint and Natasha, they’d always preferred to keep their circles small, for many reasons, trust issues right on top. But now, he can see them happy and comfortable surrounded by a group of people. They don’t wear any kind of masks, are comfortable with physical contact and even seek it out on their own terms.

 The only natural thing to happen is that Phil is accepted and included in it all without any question - friendships form quickly, and he is quietly relieved that he doesn’t need to keep up his bland Agent facade all the time - it makes him feel at home.

 One day, he is solving a crossword puzzle on the common room couch, with Clint knitting on a fuzzy, purple sock on one side and Pepper tapping away on her tablet on the other. On the far side of the couch, on Clint’s right, Tony is inhaling a cup of black coffee while simultaneously talking their ears off about a movie he’s found recently. It’s a horrible zombie apocalypse thing with even more horrendous reviews - naturally, he’s trying to win them over to vote for it on the next movie night to poke fun at. It’s one of his favourite things to do, and he’s already got Thor and Clint on his side - not a hard thing to achieve, since they’re always up for crap TV and crap movies.

 Pepper says, “Absolutely not, I can already see my braincells leave the room in tears.”

 Phil… Is seriously thinking about agreeing to the movie, just to see where it’ll take them. He’s curious. And kind of in a constant state of “might as well” now that he’s got another chance to live his life.

 He’s listening to the debate with half an ear, slight grin on his lips.

 “Of course it’s fucking stupid, that’s the point.” Clint says, looking up from his work for a moment, mischief sparkling in his eyes.

 “Oh god, please don’t tell me you guys found another one of those zombie movies.” Steve answers as he walks into the room with the cordless vacuum cleaner. Despite having a whole army of robots for all sorts of things in the tower, he likes to do things the old fashioned way - a lot. The compromise had been this thing - at least it’s almost soundless.

 “Alright, then we’re not going to tell you.” Tony shrugs, and downs another sip of coffee.

 Steve sighs, and Phil pulls his feet up to the couch to make space for him. Which is a good thing - because a second later, the couch hangs about six and a half feet up in the air and slightly tilted to the side because Steve just lifts it up like a fucking cardboard box to clean underneath it.

 Pepper lands half on Phil’s lap, casually tapping away on her tablet as if nothing happened, Phil topples over onto Clint, who wraps one arm around him but keeps up his conversation with Tony, who holds onto his coffee mug for dear life as three people suddenly slide right on top of him, but he’s otherwise unconcerned.

 Phil figures that this is just a normal part of life in this household and that he might as well get used to it.

 ~+* now *+~

 Tony is inwardly cursing himself. This, whatever “this” is, is getting out of hand.

 Yes, he’s flirting and yes he’s joking and he gets just as much of it back, but… Clint is married. He’s married      to Phil     and the two of them don’t need any more trouble, especially now that things have finally fallen into a good place for them after everything.

 He’s grown close to Clint in the last year, and sometimes, secretly, a small part in the back of his mind had wondered what might have been under different circumstances. He doesn’t dare, too afraid of losing not one but two good friends. But of course, he can’t keep his big mouth shut and continues to go on as always - stupid pet names met with corny one-liners, extragged winks and air-kisses thrown over the distance of the room.

 And it doesn’t seem to bother them - it’s comfortable banter, and apart from Phil being there, nothing really has changed, which is impressive. All of them share spaces and cuddle up somewhere as always, and there is nothing weird about it.

 One movie night - it’s another awful zombie movie because those fucking things are a tradition at this point - he’s tired enough to doze off several times, his head resting on Clint’s shoulder, who is snuggled up against Phil but still keeps one arm wrapped around him as he drifts off into sleep. He startles awake again at the sound of gunshots from the TV. His heartbeat increased and Tony is slightly confused to what is happening - his brain screams panic, but there is someone gently touching him. The hand that belongs to the arm still wrapped around him rubs small circles into his upper arm, and a calm voice tells him,

 “You’re safe. It’s just the movie.”

 Right. Team movie night. He nods, as he slowly realizes where he is.

 “Okay. Thanks. I’ll just…” Tony breathes in and out a few times, and when he’s calm again, drifts back off to sleep. It must be in the middle of the night when he wakes up again, curled up on the couch with firm body next to him and to a hushed conversation. He keeps his eyes closed, too tired still and too comfortable to move.

 “Do you wanna stay with him? I’m not sure how he’ll react to waking up alone.”

 “Yeah, I think I’ll stay. You okay with that?”

 “Of course. Let me know if you need anything?”

 “Will do. I Love you, Phil.”

 “I love you, too. Sweet dreams.”

 “You, too.”

 Someone, probably Phil, spreads a big, plush blanket over both of them, and Tony falls back asleep to the soft murmur of his friends, a gentle hand running through his hair and with a mixture of happiness, guilt and longing in his chest.

 *+~

 “You two are close.” Phil says when they’re making breakfast in their apartment the next day.

 Clint looks over to Phil, knowing exactly what he’s asking and he is half expecting him to look either angry or disappointed, but he doesn’t. It’s a simple statement - and a true one at that. Clint turns down the heat on the stove so he can answer while looking his husband in the eyes.

 “Yes, we are. It’s… Tony’s helped me a lot, and I try to do the same.”

 A little smile appears on Phil’s face. Nothing big, nothing humorous. It’s one of the small, understanding smiles that used to catch Clint completely off-guard years ago before they even started dating, because he just never experienced human interactions in this way.

 “You do. It’s good to know that you have a support system. And   I’m glad that you weren’t alone after - you know, after.” It’s a sore topic for both of them, and neither likes to talk about it. Least of all early in the morning, but there is more to it now.

 “Me, too. I’m especially glad I got you back, though.”

 Clint needs to be close to Phil, so he turns off the stove to prevent their eggs from burning. Then he steps into his space and Phil wraps his arms around him, chin resting on his shoulder. They share a few moments of silence, and Clint can tell that there is another question in the air. He remains silent though, because he doesn’t want to take the opportunity from Phil to ask on his own terms - he owes him that much. The knot of guilt over his feelings sits tight in his stomach, too, and it prevents him from starting this inevitable conversation.

 His grip tightens, and Phil brushes a kiss on his temple.

 “Hey, Relax. It’s okay, I understand.”

 “I just-” His voice cracks and he needs to breathe carefully for a moment before the words just spill out and he can’t stop them anymore. “I thought you were dead and I’ve never felt more alone. Having someone there to hold onto helped a lot, and the whole team helped with that. But Tony is just, I don’t know. We just get along. Nothing happened between us.”  He needs to say this out loud, because while the logical part of his brain knows that they didn’t do anything wrong, another, nasty part inside of his head calls him a unfaithful cheater.

 “A romantic relationship with anybody was the last thing I wanted at that time. Just being close to someone felt good, and then we started making these dumb jokes and I don’t - “ Clint almost chokes on the words, but he keeps going, because he needs to tell the truth, but he’s also terrified he’ll fuck up the best thing that ever happened to him. There are tears burning in his eyes and he briefly wonders how the fuck he’s supposed to cope if everything around him is starting to fall apart again.

 “I don’t know when I actually started to fall in love with him. I’m sorry, Phil. I’m so sorry.”

 Clint doesn’t know what kind of reaction he expects really - his mind is too fuzzy for this by now, but Phil simply hugs him tighter, gently running one hand up and down his back and through his hair until he’s calmer.

 “You don’t need to be sorry for anything. Please believe me when I say that I understand.” Phil is speaking slowly and carefully, clearly trying to find the right words to voice the thoughts inside of his head.

 “I died. I died and then I was brought back to life and nobody knew, so I might as well have been dead. And in any case, all I want is for you to be happy. So even if anything had happened between the two of you? I’d be okay with that.”

 They cling to each other, half cooked breakfast and boiling water in the kettle completely forgotten.

 “We’re so incredibly lucky we got another chance at a life together.”

 “We are. And I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

 “Even now that you know I’ve fallen in love with another person as well?”

 “It doesn’t change anything for me. I love you, Clint.”

 “I love you, too. So much.” It’s true - he doesn’t have words big enough to even begin and describe just how much he loves Phil. They pull away from each other,  just a little bit - still touching, and just enough so they can look each other in the eyes. Both of them have been crying, and they clearly need a bit more time to simply hold onto each other, but Clint can feel a giant weight lifting off of his chest.

 The truth is out, and they’re still okay.

 *+~

 In the upcoming weeks, there isn’t much time for anything really - it’s like the evil geniuses and crazed super villains collectively decided that now is the perfect time to pull petty bullshit after petty bullshit to keep the Avengers busy. And busy is exactly what they are.

 Today, they’re almost,      almost     thankful that it’s just doombots. It’s almost like a vacation if they compare it to the last 20 missions, because they always figure out how to blow the damn things into oblivion, at least until Victor Von Doom comes up with something new - that guy has way too much time on his hands but it’s still much much better than having to fight Hydra, AIM, ridiculously overpowered, giant animal hybrids or whatever it is that time.

 Or worst of all, dealing with natural disasters. Those are always hard because most of the time, they can only recover bodies, carry the injured to what they can only hope is safety and help clean up the rubble - it’s awful and devastating, because they can’t do anything to stop it in the first place - all they can do is help after the fact and save whoever is still alive.

 Right now though, all they have to do is keeping evil robots from destroying Manhattan and it’s a lot more successful than they’d hoped for. The whole thing is done after about three hours, and then they get to go home - a flock of reporters is following them, shoving cameras and microphones into their faces.

 Clint is very tempted to feed the mic in his face to the guy holding it - with a lot of force. But that’s frowned upon when you’re one of “Earth’s mightiest heroes” so he settles on fantasizing about it while he plays one of his favourite games, along with Tony who is an expert in it.

 The game is called “How rude can I be to their faces while using words that are big and sound pretentious when all I’m really doing is tell them to fuck off.” and it’s very very satisfying after a day (or month) like this and all they want is to go home, shower, eat and fall into bed for two days straight.

 Once they are finally free to do just that, they enter the common floor dead on their feet, shuffling to the private elevator that brings them to their own apartments. They lean heavily on each other, with limbs that are twisted or broken, bruises that will last and stitched up with traces of dried up blood on them.

 Bruce, freshly de-hulked and half naked is nearly asleep standing up and propped up against Thor, who has one arm wrapped around him and the other still on Mjölnir. Steve rests against the metal wall of the elevator, and if it wasn’t for him and the Iron Man suit, Tony would be on his ass on the floor by now. But as it is, he’s kept upright so Natasha can keep her broken ankle off the floor while holding onto him with one arm, since there are crutches at the tower but not the jet. Her other arm is tightly wrapped around Clint who is almost asleep on Phils shoulder, who holds onto the railing on the wall to take the weight - he’s been in the field along with the team this time, instead of just the comms from a surveillance spot.

 One by one, or in small groups, they get to their separate living spaces and straight to the shower. Natasha joins Clint and Phil for the night, because as much as she hates needing help, the injury on her ankle isn’t the only one she carried away today, and neither of them wants her slipping on wet tiles and crack open her skull just because she’s stubbornly independent. It’s days like this where Phil is very much reminded of just how similar Clint and Natasha are.

 Both of them would push on and push too far even when they physically should not or can not. You’d think he’s used to that after over a decade, and yet… Phil showers quickly, and prepares a quick and light meal with water and painkillers while Clint helps Natasha in the bathroom before he gets in the shower as well and they put fresh bandages on one another. They emerge when he’s just done, and the three of them share a quiet but comfortable meal amongst themselves. Everyone is exhausted, and they’ll have a huge breakfast with the whole team the next day, whenever they’re all awake again.

 That night, Natasha sleeps curled up next to Clint, leaving him in the middle in between her and Phil, and holds onto the blanket with an iron grip. As much as she loves these two, both of them are notorious for stealing blankets in their sleep, and she refuses to get in the middle of that. And it doesn’t matter how close they start out the night - as cuddly as they are while falling asleep, often times they’ll just roll over and make themselves into a cozy burrito while fast asleep.

 Whoever is lucky gets the most blankets that way. They always sleep with a billion covers for this very reason, but at least one of them always manages to hog more than a fair share.

 How exactly they lasted years and years of relationship and marriage without murdering each other out of sheer frustration in the middle of the night due to this, Natasha will never understand.

 The blanket slowly slips away from her as Clint turns away in his sleep with it and she thrusts an elbow into his ribs - not as hard as she usually would because she’s seen the bruises, but still.

 “Quit it, you dickhead.” she grumbles half heartedly, and Phil chuckles sleepily while the complaint falls to - literally - deaf ears with Clint. He’s already snoring.

 Sighing, Natasha cuddles up closer behind him in an attempt to get more warmth - this works, too.

 *+~

 “Wait, what? You must be joking.” Clint looks at Phil like he’s grown another head.

 They’re in their apartment and folding laundry, a task that’s long overdue due to their busy schedule, and now that things have finally gotten a little bit calmer they finally get around to it. Both of them are in sweatpants and ancient tshirts in their living room, seated on the couch (Phil) and the table (Clint) while they’re working and keeping up a conversation.

 Phil and Clint have been chatting away about a lot of things, until the topic of Tony comes up again. After their very emotional talk in the kitchen a few weeks back, they’ve talked about this a few more times, and it’s good - helpful for both of them. But today is the first time that Phil voiced this possible option - opening the relationship for a third person, provided that everyone involved would be happy and comfortable with that.

 Clint holds the pair of boxer briefs mid air where he froze and looks over at Phil, who finishes folding a t-shirt and holds his husbands gaze.

 “I’m not joking at all. If this is something you’d be happy with, and something that Tony would be happy with, it would be a good solution for this admittedly quite unique situation.”

 “Well yeah. Apart from the fact that this option kinda feels like a enormous dick move on my part? Like, neither of you is at fault for this mess? It’s not your fault for being, uh, gone after a long and committed relationship slash marriage and it’s not Tony’s fault for me falling in love and I don’t even know, maybe-possibly him falling maybe possibly as well? I’d have to talk to him about that… Which is awkward and I’m kinda scared of losing a friend due to this?”

 “It’s not your fault, either.” Phil says quietly, and reaches out to gently squeeze his hand as Clint stops rambling. He squeezes back, with a slight smile but doesn’t say anything to it. So Phil continues,

 “You don’t need to make up your mind right now, obviously. Just think about it? If it’s something you’d want. And if I’m being honest, I have a feeling that Tony won’t let go of you just like that, even if he doesn’t want this option.”

 Clint nods slightly, chewing on his lower lip for a few minutes and keeps folding more laundry before he speaks up again.

 “To be honest, I’ve thought about this before but I never thought it would be possible. It sounds kinda too good to be true, but… I think I would be very, very happy if this were to work out. But just one thing, Phil.” He pauses for a moment, carefully considering his words as he’s talking. He’s already answering this slowly, but now he slows down and pauses even more. This is important to him, and he reaches out with one hand again, and Phil happily takes it.

 “Would you be happy and comfortable with this as well? You’re not just suggesting this because you want me to be happy even when it’s something that would bother you in the long run? Because if that’s the case this option is off the table.”

 He’s looking straight at him again, and Phil smiles back. Even after all these years, he’ll never get tired of getting lost in his husbands deep blue eyes. He gets up from the couch and gently cups Clint’s face in his hands and kissing him, slow and deep and he hums happily, pulling Phil closer to him.

 When they break apart, Clint looks a lot more relaxed, but he’s very obviously still waiting for an answer to his question.

 “If I was unhappy with this option, I wouldn’t have suggested it. Yes, one of my biggest concerns is your happiness and I know how much Tony means to you. But he’s growing on me, too, and very much so. He’s been flirting with      both of us.    ” he adds pointedly, and that makes Clint burst out into a short bark laughter.

 “He did. And he was mortified when he realized it.”

 Phil’s eyes are sparkling with amusement, but he’s completely serious when he keeps talking.

 “So, yes, I would be happy with this if it was to happen. Take your time to think about it, and if it is something you want, you can talk to Tony. If he wants this as well, the three of us will get together for a conversation and figure out the rest. How about that?”

 Clint nods in agreement and he looks much happier and brighter than he ever did before when they talked about this specific topic.

 “Sounds good to me. I’m kinda having trouble to believe that this may be possible, but… Yeah. This is good. I’ll let you know if or when I’m managing to talk to Tony about this and how it goes.”

 “Alright then. Hey, what do you wanna cook for dinner?”

 The sudden change of topic isn’t nearly as unnerving as it should be - this is just how their conversations go sometimes and they’ve been doing it for so many years, it’s just another part of life.

 “Roasted potatoes and something? I’m in a potato mood.”

 *+~

 Tony alternates between groaning and repeatedly thumping his head on the desk in his lab. The  robot on the table beeps at him, sounding concerned.

 It’s a pretty small one, especially for Tony, and it’s kind of adorable. All round shapes with little legs that have it waddle about the place like a tiny metal toddler, communicating in low beeping noises and a few spoken words - he’s equipped with an AI and he’ll learn more over time. he also has a fondness for everything green.

 It’s supposed to be a joke gift for Bruce, because one day he saw *an article about robots that are meant to carry houseplants and change spots according to the sunlight and let the owner know if it is dehydrated. Tony had laughed, and thought he could make one, but better.

 Now, he’s in desperate need of a distraction so he attempts to stay busy with updating and perfecting the little guy. He’s been at it for a few hours, but his brain just won’t shut up. So naturally, after thumping his head on the desk proves to be entirely unhelpful, he does the only logical thing he can think of at two in the morning - he calls Rhodey.

 And because Rhodey is awesome he picks up after two rings.

 “Hey Tones. You okay?” He sounds awake - Tony is relieved that at least he didn’t wake him up.

 “Hi Honeybear. I fucked up big time and I’ve never been so mortified in my entire life and that’s saying something, coming from me.”

 “I’m afraid you’ll have to be a little more specific than that.”

 “See, that’s why I love you. Always honest and incredibly charming.”

 “You’re deflecting. What happened?” Rhodey sounds concerned, which he does often when he’s talking to Tony over the phone in the middle of the night. Probably rightfully so. They’ve been friends for decades - scratch that, they’ve been       family     for decades - and Tony has always been more or less of a hot mess. Rhodey knows this too well - but he’s trying to help here, even when he needs to be a bit blunt with his best friend.

 Tony sighs unhappily, and the little robot toddles close to him over the table, stretching out one of his little feet and affectionately pokes his arm. He absentmindedly pats it, then he tries to make sense of the latest dumpster fire in his brain for Rhodey.

 “So you know, the stupid jokes and flirting between me and Clint? I realized that I’m no longer joking and haven’t for a hot minute there.”

 “Yes. But that’s not new information, isn’t it? Something else changed, right?”

 Tony bumps his head onto the table top again, clearly audible over the phone. The little robot scoots closer again and pets his hair with one of his stubby little legs.

 “Saaaaad.” it beeps in his little robot voice, and pets Tony once more. He really built an affectionate little fellow there.

 “I didn’t think. I’ve been flirting with      Phil    , too. What the fuck am I doing, Rhodey? They’re married. To each other. Why the fuck am I falling in love with two of my best friends who are married to each other? Why? Who the hell does that?” He complains and rambles for some time, face smushed into the desk while he’s talking and Rhodey lets him. When Tony falls quiet again, he answers carefully.

 “These things happen sometimes. It doesn’t make you a bad person, Tony.”

 He hums uncertainly but doesn’t say anything else. Rhodey continues.

 “This whole situation? It’s a mess but it’s not anyone's fault. People fall in love. Even after their partner died. It’s just very unusual for that partner to come back to life. You guys might want to talk, just so you know and can work out where everyone is at. From what I know? Both Clint and Phil care a lot about you. I’m sure they wouldn’t want to hurt you, and you clearly don’t want to hurt them. Even if it’s unintentional.”

 Tony is listening, and even though he knows that Rhodey is right, he hates this situation. Stupid feelings. He sighs, then pulls himself up from the desk, nudging the robot a few inches away so he doesn't accidentally knock it over while getting up. It waddles near the screwdriver by the side and lightly taps it, causing it to roll a little bit. Excited beeping noises proclaim it’s happiness over this.

 “That’s gonna be a fun talk to have. I don’t even know how to bring that up.”

 “You’ll find a way, Tones. You always do.”

 “Okay. Thanks, Rhodey, I appreciate it.”

 “Call me if you need anything.”

 “Will do. You’re the best, you know that right?”

 Rhodey chuckles at that.

 “You’re not too bad yourself. Go get some sleep.”

 And they hang up on that.

 Tony does go to bed,  but he can’t sleep. He keeps turning and trying to find a comfortable position, but he’s anxious and keyed up. His thoughts run wild, and even though he knows that Rhodey is right, he doesn’t try and talk to either Clint or Phil about this for days. In fact, if he’s honest, he’s actually avoiding them, even when it’s the opposite of what he really wants to do. Inwardly cursing at himself, he keeps that up under the pretense of being busy but he knows it won’t work forever.

 Then, it’s once again in the middle of the night and he is in the common area because JARVIS locked him out of his lab. Tony almost set himself on fire for the third time that night and the AI is worried about him and his lack of sleep. So he kicked him out of his own lab and locked everything, informing him that he’ll regain access after 8 hours of sleep and a solid meal.

 Tony is not      wallowing    … Except that’s totally what he does.

 The footsteps behind him are light and they appear suddenly. It’s obvious that whoever is walking is used to being silent but deliberately making noise as not to startle him. Which narrows down the pool of people - and when Tony turns, he does so just in time for Clint to flop down next to him on the couch, intentionally casual but it’s obvious that he’s nervous about something. He hands Tony a mug of coffee and keeps one to himself.

 “Hey.”

 “Hey.” A beat of silence, and it’s awkward - neither of them is used to this, since they’ve always been able to talk or at least fill the silence when they needed to. Even silence has never been this awkward before.

 “So, uh. I don’t know if I said or did something, but I know you’ve been avoiding me for some reason. You know you can talk to me right?”

 Tony looks over at him, a pang of guilt already painfully in his chest.

 “Yeah, I know… Sorry about that by the way - it’s not your fault.”

 “You sure?”

 “Yes, it’s… I think I fucked up and I don’t know how to talk about it.” Tony cringes. “Hi, resident hot mess over here.”

 Clint just looks at him, curiously, and a little like he understands.

 “Hi, other resident hot mess here. Whatever it is, I’m sure we can figure it out.” He drinks his coffee and leans back into the couch. Is this the right situation to clear the air? A gut feeling tells him it just might be, but the part of his brain that’s constantly in a mode of      “Panic! Terror! Abort mission, we’re all gonna die!”    screams at him to keep his mouth shut. He’s familiar with this part of himself, and depending on the day, he even has something like a grip on it. But right now, a lot is at risk and he’s afraid of losing one of his best friends. Then again, if he       doesn’t talk    , he might lose him as well.

 Tony remains silent, keeping busy by inhaling his coffee. It gives him an excuse to think and not having to talk without being a total asshole. He’s exhausted and he wants things to be okay between them, but it looks like they need to have this talk.

 Clint looks tired, too. Briefly, Tony remembers that Phil and Natasha both left for different SHIELD missions and he’s not sure if anyone else is around - which probably means he slept like shit or not at all in the last few days. He’s also chewing on the insides of his cheeks - a tell tale sign of his anxiety, and it’s something he usually doesn’t allow himself unless he’s in private or with people he trusts.

 “Is it okay when I tell you something? I don’t know if it’s a good thing or not, and I’m kinda worried to lose you as a friend if I do.”

 Tony looks over at him, and it’s the first time he’s looked directly at him since they started talking. His expression is a mixture of confused, nervous and, if he doesn’t imagine it, slightly hopeful.

 “Of course you can.” He almost swallows the entire coffee that’s left in his mug out of nerves.

 “It doesn’t need to change anything if you don’t want it to. But you kinda should know, and I’ve been talking to Phil about this and he said I should talk to you, too. I, uhm, there really is no great way to say this but-” he takes a deep breath, holding onto his mug with a white knuckled grip.

 “I’m in love with you, Tony. I’ve been for a while.”

 Tony just stares, dumbfounded, and he needs to pick up his jaw from the floor before he can even respond. Even as he manages to find his voice again, all he’s able to vocalize are incoherent words until he’s got a grip on himself again.

 Clint looks like he’s about to accidentally break off the handle of his mug because his grip around it tightens even more.

 “I love you, too.” he blurts out, followed by, “I’ve been in love with you for longer than I’m comfortable admitting, but it didn’t feel right to say anything. You’re married and happy and I don’t want to get in between that. I also may have realized that I’m falling for Phil as well. Which is where the part of me fucking up and having no idea what to do or what to say comes to play.”

 Now Clint stares at him. Both of them stare at each other like they never met before.

 “Is that why…?” Clint starts, breaking himself off, but he doesn’t need to continue. Tony just nods. They share a few minutes of silence, before Tony speaks up again.

 “You said Phil knows and it doesn’t need to change anything if I don’t want it to. What do you mean? Are you not pissed? Isn’t      Phil     pissed? I mean-” he gestures helplessly with both hands, because this is the strangest conversation he’s ever been a part of, which is saying a lot, given that he’s, well, him.

 “We talked about this. A lot, actually. He understands, and he doesn’t blame any of us.”

 “      How    ? I mean, how can someone be so understanding in this situation? Can we grow more Phils in a lab or something? Fuck knows, the world needs more of him.”

 That actually makes him smile brightly, because yeah, Phil is pretty amazing, but there is only one. And that’s gotta stay that way, although he agrees that the world could probably do well with more men like him.

 What Clint settles on for an answer is actually, “Well, there is a good reason I married him in the first place.” Then, he continues to explain what they have talked about lately. The possibility of a three-way relationship, if it is something everyone involved would be happy and comfortable with.

 Tony’s jaw hits the floor once again and after long, stunned silence he says,

 “Okay, wow. What do we do now?”

 Clint actually laughs, and he sounds just a little bit hysterical. “I honestly didn’t think we’d get that far in this conversation.”

 “Well, fuck me, this is not what I expected at all, but, uhm.”

 “So, uh, what do you think?” he tries carefully.

 “You’re serious about this?”

  This one is easy to answer. Now, that the hardest part is over, Clint has no trouble finding words again.

 “Yes, absolutely. Phil and I have talked about it, and while I have thought, or more like dreamed about this option, I didn’t think it was really possible.” He drinks another sip of coffee - it’s gone cold by now, but he doesn’t mind.  “He suggested this, actually. And uhm, you don’t have to answer now obviously, but if this is something you want, then we will have dinner together and talk about this and figure out what all of us want.”

 A few moments tick by, but the silence now is comfortable and familiar once again - they no longer interact like they’ve never actually      talked     before, now that the elephant in the room has been addressed and, at least mainly, resolved. Both of them can breathe a lot easier now and they’re back into each others space, shoulders touching and leaning against one another.

 It’s fuck ‘o'clock in the morning, and now that both of them have said their piece, have talked about this, the adrenaline rush actually crashes pretty fast again, and the sleepless days catch up with both of them. Even with black coffee in their system, they could fall asleep right here. But they manage to get up, and in wordless agreement they shuffle off to the elevator that brings them up to the penthouse. Tony looks over, questioningly, and Clint just nods, follows him inside and they crawl under the blankets, wrapping around each other in the way that’s so familiar and comforting.

 They’ve missed this, even in the short amount of time they have not been around each other.

 Clint is about to take out his hearing aids for the night, but Tony's hand on his arm stops him and he looks over to see him smile at him.

 “My answer is yes by the way. I’d love to have dinner with both of you.”

 It’s the last thing he hears before they both fall asleep, but Clint hugs him a little tighter and hopes that this non-verbal answer will do for now - he’s not sure he would be able to produce words right now if he treid.

 The next morning, he wakes up wrapped in one and a half blankets and Tony clinging onto his back to stay warm and get a small corner of the covers that Clint has been hogging in his sleep. He cringes a silent “Oops. Sorry ‘bout that.” into the half dark room, pulls the blanket free and feels the vibrations and hot breath of laughter on his neck.

 Over breakfast two hours later, he texts Phil:

     “good morning honey, how is paris? speaking of the city of love, we have a dinner date with tony when you’re back. :) be safe, I love you ♥”  

 The response comes just minutes later.

     “Good morning Dear, it is as beautiful as always, if a little explosive. Looking forward to coming home, which might be this week if we’re lucky. I love you ♥ and am very happy to hear that we have this date.”  

 *+~

 Just as promised, Phil arrives back home by the end of the week. He’s texted Clint on the way back but he got delayed at HQ with several requests of “Can you please just take a quick look at this situation, Sir?” which turned into almost three hours and now he’s      done    and it’s late at night. Phil is happy to be back home and when he enters the apartment he shares with Clint on one of the top floors, it’s dark when he enters. There is, however, the flickering light of the muted TV that’s creeping through the door.

 Clint is asleep when he walks into the room, wrapped in a knitted blanket and one arm hanging off of the couch. A documentary if running in the big flat screen, closed captions on, and it shows a breathtaking underwater world that looks to be truly fascinating. There are two glasses on the table though, indicating that he’s had company before and probably fell asleep while waiting for Phil. It makes him smile, but there is also he guilt for taking so much longer than he had planned.

 He steps closer to press a quick kiss into Clint’s blond mess of hair, then he heads to the shower and changes into pajamas. By the time he’s done and enters their bedroom, Clint has apparently woken up and re-located, because now he’s dozing in bed and turns happily when the bed dips down with the weight of another person. Phil lets himself be pulled down and greeted properly, and they spend a while trading lazy kisses and making out, not talking much, just the occasional “Hi” and “welcome home” and “How are you?” before they pull apart again and cuddle up under the blankets.

 “Oh hey, how was the talk?” Phil asks then, because he’s interested, and Clint smiles lopsidedly, wrapping both arms around Phil.

 “Much better than expected. I’ll tell you tomorrow okay? Too tired now.”

 They sleep in that day, and when they arrive in the kitchen there is already coffee ready and food on the table because life is great and their team is even better.

 It’s a good day.

 *+~

 The three of them manage to get together for a home cooked dinner soon. They’re nervous and excited, despite knowing each other as well as they do, but this is still different - but as it turns out, different is good.

 The evening starts out just like any other where they hang out, and having Clint’s cooking for dinner is always a treat. Conversations are easy, and by the time they have coffee and dessert - cheesecake in a glass from Phil - the topic leads slowly to the three of them and they just talk for hours.

 Options, wishes, boundaries - it’s good, and by the end of the night, all three of them are happy and excited, but there is also a giant weight lifted off of them. They move to the couch after dinner, and they continue to chat, piled up and cuddled up on top of each other.

 Tony spends the night with both of them at once for the first time, too.

 He learns that there is a space for him with Clint and Phil, and that he fits right in - it is that night that they share first kisses and more.

 Tony also learns that he’ll have to deal with      two     blanket thieves in the foreseeable future but he can’t find it in himself to be annoyed - he’s way too happy and relaxed for that. Maybe that’s just what he gets for being a snorer, who knows.

 “Oh god, there’s two of them.” he grumbles half heartedly, fruitlessly trying to hold onto the blanket as it slips away from his grip. He scoots closer to Phil then, because he’s not entirely rolled up in his blanket yet. Phil chuckles sleepily, then he quips,

 “Hi, I’m Phil, this is my husband Clint and this is our boyfriend Tony. All of us have terrible sleep habits. Have a nice day.”

 Then he wraps an arm around him, and Tony stifles his laughter as to not be too loud. This side of Phil is new to him, and god, he loves that he can be here to experience this.

 Phil is equal parts happy and stunned - he’d never thought this would be his life one day. It’s different, but it’s good and he’s so very happy to be alive. He’s happy to share his new chance at life with Clint, who has been by his side for so many years, and with Tony who is a new but wonderful addition to their life together.

 Clint, unaware of the banter right next to him, seeks out their body heat in his sleep, laying right on top of Tony. He ends up with his nose stuck in silky dark hair that smells faintly of something musky and expensive. One arm snakes over him until Clint can reach Phil, happy as soon as he can lightly touch him, as well.

 He’s incredibly happy, with the turn of events and in general - he never thought this would be possible in the first place and yet here they are. It scared him, but now it just feels right. Perfectly comfortable. He doesn’t want to lose this, ever.

 Tony feels happy, warm, comfortable and most of all, loved. Having a weight on top of him always helps him sleep - he figures, that’s why people buy weighted blankets but he’s always found it working much, much better with other humans - especially humans that he’s close to.

 *+~

 In the next days, weeks and months, they learn a lot about each other. Little quirks and habits, mundane everyday things. But also what the other needs in certain situations and how they can help.

 They learn that while all relationships require open and honest communication, a relationship involving more than two people does so even more - it’s a learning process, but they manage it.

 Tony realizes just how much it helps to talk to partners who don't just assume - they       ask     and together, the three of them always figure it out.

 “You’ll get there.” Clint tells him one day, “I used to be even worse at talking than I am now. But as long as you’ll stay open and honest with us, everything will be okay.” It really is reassuring. None of them is perfect, no matter what biased voices might say.

 They have flaws and habits that drive each other up the wall sometimes, but they handle it all with honesty, patience and love and so they work on issues together. Bad mental health days or bad days in general - just another day, another mountain to climb together. And they get better because of it.

 *+~

 …Possibly to be continued in the future?

 *+~

     Prompt No. 44 - “Hi, I’m Phil, this is my husband Clint. And this is Clint’s boyfriend Tony.”  

 *+~

 *Disclaimer: The plant care robot is a real thing that I’ve found online and it’s frickin’ adorable. I wanted to involve it somewhere in my writing and it just fit here. It doesn’t match up with my stories timeline but eh, unimportant details and all that ;)

 Credit where credit is due:

 The robot in the article was invented by Tianqi Sun, CEO of robotics firm Vincross.

 https://www.businessinsider.com/the-hexa-robot-can-take-care-of-your-plants-2018-7?r=DE&IR=T

[twoidiotwriters1]

Starcrossed Losers VIII (Josh Wheeler xReader)

A/N: Listen, I’m not saying my heart hurts every time I write their shitty talks, but I really need a hug right now. I’m too soft. Also, you guys prefer short chapters or long chapters? cause I have a 6k draft and idk if I should divide it into two parts or post it like that lmaoo

Words: 3,782

Warnings: Uh, sadness and we get a sort of graphic death scene. Alex has a gun to get rid of ghoulies so that’s also a thing ig?? The fluff might suffocate you.

Previous chapter // Next chapter

I bet you’re not surprised. This whole story started with me telling you that my life changed because of Josh. I guess is not a shocker to find out I didn’t leave the mall. Although the circumstances must’ve been surprising right? No? Okay then, party poopers. I’ll keep going with my narration:

“Where is he?”

“Still on the carrousel,” Angelica tells me, “he’s been there since last night”

“You keep giving him the slime?”

“Yes, I also make sure he eats it”

“Well, at least he’s eating something,” I sigh, “I don’t get it, where do you found her body again?”

Wesley coughs, he’s laying on the couch in front of me, so I can’t see his face but I can hear his voice:

“The middle of the street, close to a parking lot”

“Close to Cheeramazon territory?”

“No, no one lives there.”

“What was she doing there?”

“Maybe she was looking for Josh,” Offers Angelica, “you and Josh were loners, Sam could’ve been one too, only that she wasn’t lucky”

“Maybe”

I think about it for a moment, Sam and Josh were sorta dating when all this happened, they fought and she wants to fix things but she’s alone and things get out of control. It’s an awful thought, yet possible. 

“Why didn’t you tell me when you got back?” I ask them, “you seemed okay when I talked to you...”

“You were happy to see us back with the medicines,” Wesley retorts, “we didn’t want to ruin your mood. I know we did it anyway the next morning but at least you got to sleep better that night, right?”

“I suppose,” I sink further in the bed.

That afternoon I tell Angelica that I’ll take the slime to Josh and a small cup of the instant chicken soup I had on my bag.  He’s laying on the floor, his eyes are closed, however, I know he’s not sleeping. I know cause I’ve seen the way he looks when he sleeps. 

Okay, that sounded creepy. Ignore that I said that.

I walk up to him and kick his leg softly. He opens his eyes and looks over at me.

“Time to eat,” I put the bowl with slime next to his head and the chicken soup next to it, then I sit on his right. Josh gets up and takes the first bowl between his hands.

“I’m getting real’ tired of the taste,” His voice is low, hurting.

“You should’ve thought of that before cutting off your finger” I reply.

“I was preoccupied thinking about not becoming a Ghoulie.”

“Right,” I smile softly, “how are you feeling?”

“Like crap,” He looks at me briefly before putting his attention back on the slime, “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Okay,” I change my position so I’m facing him completely, “I just want you to know that I get it. You don’t have to tell me anything but I know how you feel.”

He looks up again and this time his eyes remain on me, curiosity pouring through them.

“Your sister?”

“My sister, my parents, my best friend...” I sigh, “it’s all the same at the end if I’m honest”

“What do you mean?”

“My sister...” I explain, “I didn’t know exactly how old you had to be to turn into a ghoulie, so part of me was expecting to see her fine. Once I lived through that nightmare, everything else just felt... numb.”

------------------------------------------

“You sure this is the right hall?”

“Yes, Alex. Now stop talking before another horde of Ghoulies run our way.”

“That was one time and it was an accident!”

“Everything bad that happens to us because of your impulsiveness is always an accident according to you,” I reply sternly, “here...”

I point to the door on our left, my hands shaking.

“You ready?” Alex asks, holding the door’s handle.

“No,” I yelp, “I have to do it anyway...”

“Should I?”

“Open the door.”

Alex complies. It’s too dark to tell if there’s someone inside the dorm, I step in, with the boy following suit, too scared to talk. I pull out my phone and turn on the flashlight.

“...Katie?”

Something moves under the covers of the bed. We jump back and the light trembles thanks to my own nerves. I decide to reach for the bed.

“Y/N...” Alex whispers beside me, “I don’t feel good about this.”

“Shh!” I look back at him, annoyed, “Maybe she’s hurt!”

I grab the covers tightly. For the first time in ten years, I want Alex to be wrong.

“It’s me, Vinchi,” I whisper at the figure, “Katie..?”

There’s a loud screech, then all I can see it’s a bloody face over mine with a set of familiar brown eyes. Katie scratches my arms and face, she pushes my head up so my neck is exposed and bites me. Hard. I scream and twitch under her, crying in pain. Then I hear a loud thud and her body slams against the bed’s frame.

I straighten up and put a hand over the bite, she didn’t get to tear off skin, but there’s plenty of blood and it’ll leave a scar. Katie is standing up again when Alex helps me to get on my feet.

“She’s gone, Y/N,” He tells me, but I can’t bring myself to believe him.

“No, not her. She’s young,” I insist, fighting to get out of his grip, “she’s just scared!”

“Look at what she did to you! She’s dangerous Y/N, we have to leave!”

“I can’t leave her!” I scream, “She’s my sister, I can’t leave her like this!”

“We can’t take her with us, she’s a Ghoulie!”

Katie attack us again, but this time I kick her before she gets to touch us. She crashes against the desk and the chair falls beside her. Katie’s on her knees when I jump into action and grab the chair, lifting it up and hitting her head with all my strenght.

“Fuck!” I tear up, “Why you?!”

I hit her at least twelve times. I was crying the whole time, the bite in my neck was pulsating and my hands felt stiff and soar from holding onto the chair like my life depended on it. I was angry and devastated, I just wanted all to be over soon.

I couldn’t recognize her face afterwards. I thought that was good, cause then it wasn’t her. Unfortunately, my brain didn’t have the same opinion. I do know that was my sister. I can’t forget.

------------------------------------------

“Although I did forget her last words,” I tell Josh, “actually, I think she turned into a Ghoulie in her sleep and I don’t know if that’s the reason why she wasn’t talking but I hope so, cause I don’t remember if she say something before I killed her.”

“Shit,” The soup is probably cold by now, but he’s not really paying attention to what he’s eating, “Do you really have... uh, you know, where she bit you?”

I pull the collar of my shirt to reveal the scar.

“I’m not self-conscious about it,” I say before he even asks, “if anything, this is sort of like the last thing I have left from my sister.”

“That’s a pretty dark thought,” He replies with worry.

“Is it?” I tilt my head, “yeah, I think you’re right.”

“You must’ve bled a lot... How did you get out?”

“I wasn’t alone, remember?” I let go of my shirt so my scar is covered again, “Alex was there”

------------------------------------------

“We need to get somewhere safe so I can help you with the bite,” Alex rasps as he pushes a Ghoulie down the main stairs.

“The blood will attract them, Al. You have to leave me.”

“No.”

He grabs my arm tightly and practically drags me outside the building towards our car. It’s surrounded by Ghoulies but he pulls out his gun and shots as many as he can reach on his first try. 

Alex didn’t know how to use a gun before the nuke, he learned fast cause the circumstances were asking for it. He quickly became accostumed and I made sure to always have enough bullets in case of an emergency.

“We need to leave now!”

I get inside the car, holding tightly my wound. Alex drives back to town as fast as he can, none of us has said a word, Katie’s body still present in our minds.

“There’s bandages on the back seat.”

“I know,” I reply without moving, “I told you to leave me behind.”

“You’re my best friend, I can’t do that”

“What if I turn into a Ghoulie?”

“We saw how Phillip got bitten and he was okay afterwards.”

Alex stops near Glendale when he offers a new plan.

“What if we don’t come back?”

“What?”

“Let’s get out of here,” Alex turns on his seat to look at me, “we have nothing but crappy memories of this place, we could make a whole new life outside... together”

I stay silent for what it feels like ages, my friend waits uneasy. 

“Y/N?”

“That’s a bad idea,” I open the door and get out.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m getting my stuff,” I open the back door and grab my two bags, “I’m leaving”

“Where?”

“Home.”

“You wanna go back?” Now he’s also out of the car, “To Glendale? The shittiest town you could live in right now?”

“I’m pretty sure that’s not the shittiest”

“You know what I mean,” Alex grabs my wrist softly, but it’s enough to further my annoyance, “we could travel, never settle down in one place... and there’s literally no adults to tell us we can’t”

“That’s all you can think of?” I ask in rage, “our parents where also part of the adults, our families just died. I- for fucks sake, Alex, I just had to kill my sister!”

“I know that!” He replies in the same tone, “I was there! Both times! And both times I got you out of trouble!”

“Jesus, thank you so much for shooting my dad in the face, Alex. I don’t know why I never thanked you for that.”

“That wasn’t your father anymore,” He lets go of me, “ Why are you so upset about it, I saved your life!” 

“Because they were my fucking parents!” I drop the bags on the floor, “It’s not my fault if you don’t care about how yours are probably eating european kids right now, is not my fault that your parents left you alone even before the explosion!”

I see how his expression changes and I don’t deserve to feel sad cause I did that on purpose, I couldn’t stay with him after what I had done. To me, that whole experience had taught one thing: Staying with someone would only increase the posibilities of dying or killing against my will. I knew I wasn’t going to be able to do that a second time. Besides, nothing felt right anymore, I wasn’t the same, my life wasn’t the same, I didn’t want to get hurt or to accidentally hurt someone innocent. I had to remain alone.

We had ran out of chances. We simply weren’t a good team anymore. Forcing ourselves to work it out cause we didn’t have anyone else was cruel and unfair to both of us, it would only slow us down.

“You know what?” Alex steps back, his eyes colder than ever, “You’re right. I don’t have to waste my time trying to convince a coward.”

Two could play the same game, I thought as my heart stung at his words, I deserve what he’s telling me. I am scared, I am a running away. I’m a coward.

“Leave me alone,” I reply, picking up my things and walking away.

“Have a good life, Y/N.” 

You’d think that when someone means something to you for a long period of time the goodbye has to be something epic. Their last words won’t be dull and you’ll get to hug them one last time. 

It didn’t happen at all. I walked back to Glendale while he drive away and that was it. I was permanently broken, staying with him would’ve been a constant reminder of how nothing would ever work out the way I wanted. 

So I just let him go. 

------------------------------------------

“And back in Glendale where I had no one,” I exhale, now both of us laying on the floor, “I had one place to stay. I knew the jocks had taken over the school so I got in without being noticed. Mona Lisa never questioned how did I get there but since I never caused her problems she let me stay and used me as some sort of janitor.”

“And you let her treat you like that?”

“She didn’t mistreat me,” I frown, “I guess she couldn’t care less about me. There were bigger targets to fry. That’s when they started to kill kids.”

“And you decided to live on your own,” Josh states. 

“My parent’s house was still in one piece and although their bodies were there, it was easier to just drag them out than to look somewhere else to live,” I add, “it was hard at first, but once I got the hang of it I never thought about going back with the Jocks or with my old friends.”

“And why did you leave that place?” 

“It got destroyed. The mutant dog, a giant...”

“A giant pug,” He finishes at the same time.

I turn my head, staring intently.

“The pug attacked you too?” I smile.

“I had this dope mansion at the other side of town,” He replies with nostalgia, “it was great. I went back one night and found the pug in the garage. It wasn’t safe anymore, so I couldn’t stay.”

“Stupid pug,” I shake my head, “we should go out one day and hunt it.” 

“My dad showed me how to hunt, you know?” Josh mentions, “all the survival things I know...”

“Is he..?”

“Yeah. It happened before the nuke,” He turns his head to me, “the same day, just hours before the explosion.”

“Really?”

“Shitty, right?”

“Life tends to be like that,” I feel the back of his hand against mine. I fight the need to inch closer, “we learn from it, I guess”

“What could we learn from something like that?” He frowns, “that no matter what we do, people we love is always going to die?”

“They way I see it, it’s all for a reason,” I reply calmly, “if my sister hadn’t turned into a Ghoulie, right now I’d be traveling around the country with Alex and her. You and I wouldn’t have run into each other, and maybe you would’ve died after cutting your finger. That would’ve sucked, right?”

“I... guess. Yeah,” He stares at me intently, “that would have sucked.”

I feel a familiar warmth creeping up my chest and I try to push it down.

“Or maybe not,” I squeak, “maybe we’re just randomly running around like headless chickens and I’m bullshitting you just to make you feel better and-”

He pushes a strand of hair away from my face and I freeze.

“You ramble a lot,” Josh smirks, “either way, it kind of worked. I think.”

“You think?” I ask, “you’re easy to cheer up”

“Or I just really like talking to you” He jokingly offers.

“Who wouldn’t? According to you, I’m the coolest loser in town,” Josh snorts at my comeback.

“You definitely are a loser,” the boy agrees. 

Before I can help it, his hand is holding mine, he gives it a light squeeze.

“You should stop being so caring, though,” He continues, “I’m running out of ways to thank you”

“I’m curious to find out how creative you can get, to be honest,” I grin, “you’ll have to start giving me offerings”

“What, you’re naming yourself the goddess of the mall now?”

“Bitch, I might,” I straighten up, still holding his hand, “I think I would do a great job as a deity.”

“Hey, losers-” Angelica stops talking when she sees us laying on the ground, “Oh, come on. Wesley! Josh’s depression got to Y/N and now both of them are moping!”

“I’m not moping,” I counter, standing up and letting go of the boy’s hand, “we were just talking. And I was about to leave, anyway.”

“You were?” Josh asks, sitting up hastily, “Now?”

I stare at him in confusion for his outburst, until I realize he thinks I’m talking about leaving the mall for good.

“Not the mall,” I correct nervously, “I’m not leaving. I mean, at least not right now. I’m just leaving this hall.”

“Oh,” His shoulders relax, “when are you leaving the mall, then?”

“Yeah, Y/N?” Angelica smiles knowingly, “When?”

“Undecided,” I glare at the young girl, “I figured this place isn’t so bad after all and you guys need me. I’m safe. It’s better if I don’t go.”

“That’s cool!” Josh smiles, “I’ll get you a notebook...”

I laugh, starting to walk away with Angelica.

“Whatever you want, Wheeler.”

As I’m walking, I feel Angelica’s stare burning holes in me.

“What now?” I sigh, stopping in front of her.

“Nothing,” She shrugs, “I was thinking”

“You do that all the time,” I cross my arms, “Is this about your crazy idea of forming a new tribe? Cause you can forget it, I’m not staying for that long.”

“You and Josh...” She mentions innocently.

“Me and Josh, what?” I ask harshly.

“You seem to be getting along.”

“We’re the only ones in this mall that never got on our nerves, you mean,” I reply sarcastically, “don’t even try to talk me into your crazy plans.”

“I’m just saying,” She gives me her best, innocent smile, “he was in a better mood! It’s clear that you have chemistry...”

“You just found Sam’s body,” I reply in a hurried whisper, “Josh is grieving and I’m only trying to help him cope. You’re out of your mind if you think this means I’ll try to get in his pants.”

I turn around to leave, Angelica surely is frustrated cause I decided to not listen to her insinuations. Josh and I are not a thing. Simply cause I say so.

Nighttime is upon us and I’m on the second floor killing time, going left to right on my new pair of skates to loosen them up so I feel comfortable in them. I have earphones on and the music distracts me from the annoying silence that falls on this place when no one is up. Or when I think no one is up. 

Soon enough, I’m proved wrong by Josh. He walks straight into my practice and all I can do is lessen my speed before I crash against him.

“Shit!” He catches me with his injured hand and holds to the railing with the other.

We end up in this ‘prince-charming-catches-the-damsel-before-hitting-the-ground’ position that is more embarrassing than romantic. I try to stand up on my own but the wheels keep making me trip and Josh holds my waist firmly, pulling me up and helping me stay still.

Seriously? 

How many times are we gonna fall into each other’s arms like it’s a soap opera?

Josh says something but I signaled him to stop and I take my earphones off.

“Uhm, thanks for catching me. Sorry for almost killing you this time. What were you saying?”

“I said that you need to start watching where you’re going,” He snickers.

“Rude,” I scoff, “but really, you needed something?”

“Oh, I-uh...” He plays with his bandages, lost in thought. I want to stop him cause it could ruin them, "The things you told me today... I know it's hard to talk about it. I appreciate that you trust me and I... I keep thinking about this thing, and I wanted to ask you something about Alex"

“Oh,” Oh. Do I give myself away that easily? “What about him?”

“You had a thing with him, right?” Fuck. Give me a break, won’t you?

“I, uh-I mean, I never really...” I ramble, then I notice that he’s holding back a shy laugh and I just shake my head miserably, “it’s a long story”

"Well, I don’t get it,” He sits on the bench next to us and pulls me with him so I sit with him, “Why didn’t you say yes? He offered you a new life to do whatever you wanted, Why not going?”

“Cause I didn’t want a new life. I wanted the old one,” I shrug, “after the nuke I understood that no amount of freedom would ever give me the peace that being on my own could give me. It was better. That way I don’t exist for the rest of the world.”

“Sorry for ruin your plan,” He passes a hand through his hair in an anxious manner, “I didn’t know...”

“Exactly, you didn’t. So don’t apologize for something you didn’t do on purpose”

We stay silent for a second, then Josh speaks up again, this time with a shy demeanor.

“You exist for me now,” He replies in all honesty, his eyes have a strange gloom on them, “and even if you leave, you’ll exist in my head. I don’t think I’ll be able to forget about you this time. You're the girl that saved my life after all.”

That is the sweetest thing someone’s said to me in a long time and I can’t believe it had to be Josh Wheeler the one saying it. How dare he?

“I only wanted you to know that you’re not alone, so I told you my story. Sorry if it made you uncomfortable or...” I start to apologize, but he quickly interrupts me.

“It didn’t. Things didn’t go as planned but you’re right. I think they’re going to get better... eventually, I hope.”

“If you ever want to talk about your dad... you don’t have to,” I nudge him gently, “but if you ever want to talk about him or someone else, I’m here. I’m with you.”

“I know,” Josh smiles softly, “I’m with you too. And I’m glad I crashed into you in that alley,” He jokes.

I don’t know what to answer back. Am I happy or am I resentful because he dragged me into this madness? Was my life going as good as I’m trying to picture it? I honestly don’t know.

All I know is that I like being friends with Josh Wheeler and he’s glad he met me. Nothing else. No romantic feelings at all from any side. Just as it should be.

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