#I don't think most chapters will be this heavy in comic form

[decarbry]

Watching them leave from the door felt strange. Wrong. Like it shouldn't be happening like this. As soon as the handle latched, he moved to the third story, climbing the stairs fast enough to catch the tail end of the little troupe disappearing around the street corner. He could hear Toga's laughter even from this distance.

Yabureme didn't budge from that spot, even as the evening drew to night. Spinner had said they'd be back before midnight, and though Yabureme had nothing to check it against, his internal clock said that it would be a few hours yet until that hour passed and he should start to worry.

He'd started to worry the second he lost sight of Tomura beyond that door.

He was meant to use this time to sleep. With no one to guard, it would be the perfect time to catch up, maybe eliminate some of the waver in his limbs. But the worry was a plague. He hadn't even tried to sleep, only listened and watched that little square of sidewalk they'd vanished from.

Kurogiri entered the room, but Yabureme ignored him for the moment, instincts dividing his attention in case an order was given. Even then he could feel a pinprick of pressure in the back of his head as the man stared him down.

Without seeing it, Yabureme sensed that it was the same look Kurogiri gave when he caught him nearly falling off of his feet in his vigils. Narrow-eyed and pointed, communicating his sins without actually saying anything. Kurogiri was the only one who really noticed on any consistent basis, but his concern was sharper and less warm than Spinner's could be.

He and Kurogiri both shared an innate purpose, after all: to protect. And they both knew that if he kept on like this, when the moment came, his body may just fail in its duty.

Perhaps that was why he'd been given the role of babysitter for the night.

[the-depths-au]

FAQ

*this post continues heavy totk spoilers

How did it start?

A lot of people started posting some really cool art of a TotK ending where Zelda returns as a hybrid dragon creature thing. I saw a few that called it a “bad” ending and I noticed she was often portrayed with dominantly human-features just like, with horns or a tail, or the purple eyes, etc. I love to play video games(clearly) and I enjoy the challenge of seeing various endings, not just “secret endings” (think Heavy Rain, Until Dawn, The Witcher 3, Drakengard- anyone else play this?) I got to thinking about how her coming back didn’t really like a true “bad ending”. To me, a bad ending, really, would be one in which she didn’t get to magically, miraculously come back in any form. A bad ending to me would be Mineru’s warning held true. And in doing so, it would become The Legend of Zelda because she becomes the stuff of myths. Of true Legend. Fulfilling destiny (botw-era and the series as a whole). My brain sort of took off from there regarding the implications this would have on Hyrule and specially, our boy Link.

How could you! A Bad ending? Is this story at least hurt and eventual comfort??? Does it have a happy ending??

I could tag this hurt and comfort, but usually people who read these types of stories have certain expectations of what “comfort” is (and that’s okay!). Same with a “happy” ending. I don’t need stories to be wrap up in a bow with warmth to enjoy them. Honestly, some of the stories that have touched me the most over the years have had “sad” endings/negative character arcs/tragedy. That being said, I don’t particularly enjoy pure whump, either. What I feel is most important and what I am to do with this story, is to make any suffering meaningful. With purpose. And hopefully- maybe- you’ll see the “comfort” that is possible even in these types of stories.

Wait! So Zelda remains a dragon?

Yes. They defeat the demon dragon. Rauru and Sonia appear in a silent thanks, then they disappear and Link falls from the sky alone into the water. The Light Dragon continues along in her flight above him.

Link is also the only one who can see/has ever seen the Light Dragon.

Are there any other major changes from TotK?

It follows the game pretty closely. It’s just hard to say exactly what is in this story from TotK because there is just so much. In BotW, I headcanon Link took his time. He doesn’t remember anything. He is alone, lost, and the world is a vast, broken place. Therefore, it is plausible/ realistic in my head for all the side questions to be done prior to the ending being reached. In TotK, especially with the headcanon he and Zelda were together in the time between BotW and TotK, I had a hard time imagining Link would waste much time on anything unnecessary to save Zelda. So, with this in mind, I’ve had to justify the side questions to include in the story. Link’s journey is a bit different than my own. Whereas I actually spent 80% of my playthrough exploring the depths, this Link only went down when necessary. Meaning many of the lightroots have not been unlocked and he only has part of the armor of the depths. In the Linktober and the early concept, he has the entire set but this has been changed for the main comic.

How far after the events of TotK does this take place?

Five years.

Is it completely planned out?

Yes. I have a complete rough story outline done. It’s 17 chapters. I am anticipating some editing as I go, but regardless, it’s a big project. A huge shout out to @zeldaelmo and @fioreofthemarch for helping me get the story set. They are both phenomenal writers for the LoZ fandom so be sure to check them out!

What happened to the comic?

I made the decision to tell this story (initially) in writing. I have a very specific style in mind for this story as a full comic and honestly, I just don't feel like my artistic ability and overall proficiency is where I want it to be at this time. I'm still learning! I will be continuing to post art, concept art, and some comic panels here as I go and eventually, I would love to adapt the story into a full comic, but for now, I'll be telling the main story in writing.

How long have you been drawing?

I’ve been drawing all my life. Just for fun, although I took a few classes in school. Digitally, self-taught, since fall 2022. Still very new to this with lots to learn! I have a minor in creative writing and feel much more confident and comfortable with that.

Feel free to send me a DM with questions anytime! I plan to update this periodically.

Last updated 2/26/24

[eleni-cherie]

a thief's end ✨ || bts • myg - chapter 1.1

"so eager to be in a headlock again?"

"only if it's by you."

he thought he was done with the criminal life and ready for some peace and quiet. but his plans collapsed in the form of a strange girl who was in trouble.

© 2023 | eleni_cherie

»»»

masterlist: here

— genre: thief au, gangster comedy, adventure, romcom, humour, angst, fluff, sexual tensiON, slowburn, mutual pining, strangers to lovers s2l

ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSE. CHARACTERS NOT NECESSARILY LIKE THE REAL PERSONS. ALSO VERY UNREALISTIC PLOT LOL - JUST PRETEND READING A MANGA/COMIC OR WATCHING A FILM, REALLY.

SUGGESTIVE THEMES. MENTIONS OF VIOLENCE & BLOOD (BUT NOTHING TOO GRAPHIC, IT'S STILL A COMEDY!)

»»»

"I just realised.. this is my first time in Europe."

Soyeon's random confession made Yoongi perk up from where he was leaning on. Offering her an aknowledging hum.

Both were standing against a stone fence, seperating the pavement from a slope behind them, while waiting for the other two to return with a new car. They knew everyone would be on the lookout for the silver mercedes and besides, the bullet holes in it would draw unwanted attention from locals and police as well. So a new car would be saver. 

However, this would usually only take a couple of minutes, so Yoongi began wondering what was taking them so long.

Meanwhile, her eyes caught a waiter at a restaurant down the street walking in and out, greeting random people passing by, some walking their dogs some not, seemingly being acquaintances. It was such an odd but also nice sight. And it made her realise that she was in fact in a different country.

She might've been there already for days, but most time spent locked up in a room so it hadn't really sunk in that she was in fact in Europe. And that for the first time in her life.

She looked curiously around, taking in the different architecture, shining warm under the streetlights and all the noises. Mainly chatter coming from the restaurant and crickets' buzzing. 

"You've been here before?" she asked then, tilting her head to Yoongi who had been suspiciously quiet all the time.

Her words interrupted his train of thoughts and he blinked for a moment. "N-no. But we've been in Italy a couple of times over the years.."

She hummed, admiring the scenary again. "Must be nice to travel so much."

"It's nice if you got time to actually enjoy it. But it's also quite exhausting.."

"You sound like an old man!"

Her teasing made him scoff playfully. More giggles errupting from her and he smiled. He liked her like this. Carefree, without worries and fright.

"Wished I travelled as much.." she exhaled then and looked up at the dark sky past the streetlights, "If it hadn't been for this situation right now, I'd have never left Korea."

"It can be exciting. But you'll eventually miss home, sooner or later," he mumbled and glanced at his phone, wondering where the other two had been. And even though he was trying to downplay it, she could sense the heaviness of the topic in his voice.

"You ever miss home?"

He paused, a torn poster catching his attention for a moment when he realised he had never given thought to it all those years. "I.. I don't know," he answered honestly, shoving his phone back into his pockets, "Never had a close bond with my family anyway. Except my mum and.. well.."

"And your uncle?"

His lips curved into a sad smile and he nodded.

They grew silent once again.

Getting tired of standing, Soyeon pushed herself up onto the stone fence in a swift move, taking a seat on it. A breeze brushing past her cheeks from the open space of the hill behind her.

She sensed there was something different about Yoongi that night. Sure, he wasn't always the most talkative one but for some reason he felt so.. distant and aloof. As if he was miles away in his mind.

She sighed, biting her lips in a guilty manner as she suspected knowing the reason for his strange behavior. 

"I.. I think I owe you an apology," she slowly began then. Her words causing him to frown.

"Why?"

She huffed, arching an eyebrow at him. "Isn't it obvious? If I had listened to you.." Her gaze fell in shame. "I tried keeping you away from the mess but ironically only dragged you more into it.. and now you even had to come all the way here to Italy to bail me out. So I'm sorry."

Yoongi remained silent, his stoic glance laying on her for a moment more before he shook his head and glanced back at the torn poster of some italian singer. "If someone should apologise it's me.." he quietly said then. The embarrassment of having failed still lingering in his chest like a heavy rock.

Soyeon only looked at him puzzled though, a small 'huh?' leaving her lips. Waiting for him to elaborate.

He dragged a sigh when seeing he had to actually say out loud what he'd tried to suppress these past days. "They got you right in front of my eyes. Twice. Okay? And I couldn't do anything about it." Ruffling his hair in frustration, he turned around to rest his hands on the stone. Staring out at the silent city spreading in front of him when all the stifled emotions crawled back. "Fck. If I was more cautious.. I should've protected you from these guys, but I couldn't. And at the end you were the one protecting me. And that's why.. I'm sorry."

Hearing that made her swallow hard. She never expected him to feel bad or even guilty about that day. Mad and angry at her for acting so foolish? Most certainly. But not guilty.

Slowly she turned her head to the side, seeing his afflicted expression. A deep crease between his brows as he was propping himself on that stone fence. She didn't want him to feel bad about it.

After all, those past days of uncertainty and loneliness, one of the memories that kept her company besides those of her family and friends - who were probably wondering why she wasn't replying to them anymore during her 'vacation' - was the one of the weeks prior. The memory of him and the short time they had spent together.

"Don't be an idiot," she whispered, looking at him with sorrowful eyes. Her hand engulfing his which was placed next to her, "It's not your job to look after me all the time, so don't feel guilty. None of this was your fault. It was mine."

He huffed a breath, glancing at her briefly before redirecting his eyes to the scenary in front of him. Arguing would be pointless, he knew she was just as stubborn. So he dragged a sigh into the night air. "Let's just say it's both our fault then."

She laughed but eventually nodded, accepting the compromise. "Fine." Leaning in closer to him then, she placed a light kiss on his cheek. Observing his expression softening. "Thank you for coming here and helping me. Again."

He gave her a small nod, a shy smile tucking on his lips as he looked away. "Anytime." 

Taking his previous position of leaning against the stone fence, he went back to looking out for any sign of Taehyung and Jimin, who were taking way too long. Hearing Soyeon yawning into the palm of her hand then. A sudden tiredness overtaking her and she rested her heavy head on his shoulder. Making him tense for a moment before he smiled to himself. Wrapping his arm around her back, his fingers lying on her waist. Giving it a light squeeze.

"I didn't ask you earlier, but you're okay, right? They.. they didn't hurt you, right?"

She nodded when seeing him glancing down at her with concern in his eyes. And she rolled her eyes. "I'm fine. Great, actually," she ensured him with a grin. Hearing him sigh in relief when another breeze brushed by.  And she heaved her head from his shoulder, her hand reaching out to cup his cheek and forcing him to look at her dark irises. His rushing mind calming under her soft touch. And she frowned while staring at his pouty lips. Making him wonder what made her pretty face so upset.

"Why are you endangering yourself for me?" she whispered then, more to herself than to him. Finding his eyes again.

"You know the answer."

Yeah, she remembered. Back on the rooftop when sharing their first kiss. However, she was still dissatisfied with his explanation, adverting her eyes from his again. Unsure of what it was that dissatisfied her so much, finding it both, incredibly sweet and highly irrational. What was she supposed to make out of this? Or him? He kept confusing her all the time, but maybe that was his charm. What laid beyond his cool and mysterious aura, a sweet and caring side. And she felt herself falling more and more for it.

Her lips found his, startling him for a short moment before easening into her. And his fingers curled around her waist as he deepened the kiss, pressing her more against his side when suddenly the loud noise of a roaring engine echoed from down the street. Causing their lips to abrubtly part and he sighed disappointedly. Already knowing who it was.

Brushing a streak of hair off her face, he pecked her lips one more time before taking her hand to help her get off the stone.

And as they walked to the red Fiat that had come to a halt in front of them, ignoring the grins of the guys in the driver and passenger seat, Yoongi could already spot the reason for them taking so long. Three pizza boxes stacked neatly on the backseat when entering and another opened one on Taehyung's lap. The younger guy already munching on a piece of pizza when throwing them an innocent grin.

"Was hungry and thought we could all do some late-night snack."

»»»

Half an hour and four empty pizza boxes later the car parked in an alleyway behind their hide-out. An old fashioned Italian building in the north-east of the city. Having avoided any main streets where they could've come across police.

Everyone was tired and yawning when stumbling inside and climbing up the stairs. Soyeon's hands clutched around the fabric of Yoongi's blazer that he had given her due to her sneazing with the open car windows. It was way too big for her, but she didn't mind as she always preferred oversized clothes. Especially if they smelt as nice as his. And she trotted behind them, following them into the apartment.

Taehyung switching on the lights, ready to hit the couch when suddenly recognising a bunch of people in front of them. All pointing their guns at them. And he rolled his eyes. "Seriously now?"

"Hey!" Jimin pushed Taehyung aside with a huge grin plastered on his face as the other three held up their hands. "Pops! What ya doing here?"

"What I told your friend there," Seokjin grinned, motioning with his chin to Yoongi who was looking unimpressed. "If you guys get back to business, I'll come back as well."

"Really, pops," Taehyung dragged a sigh then, rubbing his eyes, "Your timing's miserable as always."

"Yeah, any other time I'd be happy to see you and your entourage.." Jimin pointed at Jungkook and Skylar who were standing at Seokjin's side, "But it's been a long day and we're dog-tired, so can this wait till tomorrow?"

"Why are you tired?" Yoongi mumbled behind him with a frown, "You literally drank two espressos back to back. You should be awake all night."

Jimin shushed him over his shoulder before grinning at Seokjin again who had ignored their little quarrel. The agent shook his head, laughing under his breath then. "Ya! Don't complain, it was you who purposely led us here after all." He glanced at his younger colleagues then, giving them a nod to which they moved, lowering their guns and instead got their handcuffs out. And Yoongi screwed his eyes shut, throwing his head back. 

This was exactly what he'd wanted to avoid. Getting his friends involved and arrested. And yet, it came as it had to come. Interpol got them again. Even if they had been prepared to sooner or later face Seokjin and his agents again, since they had indeed led them to Florence on purpose, it wasn't supposed to be this early. Catching them unprepared.

Yoongi couldn't help but give Taehyung and Jimin an apologetic look as they got handcuffed by Jungkook and Seokjin, to which they just shook their heads, assuring that it was alright while Skylar put handcuffs on him. Tucking at him lightly. 

"Wait," Seokjin told her suddenly and stepped forward. Only now noticing Soyeon who was standing there behind Yoongi. Her short hight letting her go unnoticed among the taller guys.

"And who are you?"

Soyeon blinked, feeling exposed and anxious not knowing what interpol would do with her. "J-Jeon Soyeon."

The agent carefully examined her to figure out if he'd come across her before. Having a sudden light-bulb-moment then. "Are you the one with the stolen necklace?"

The young woman froze, swallowing hard before nodding. Fearing she'd now get arrested as well. However, much to her surprise Seokjin only cocked a brow at her, seemingly puzzled himself he laughed out. "What are you doing here with these dorks?" His brows furrowing then voice lowered. "Did they make you participate in any crime?"

"N-no, no they didn't!" she stuttered, her voice becoming more determined then, "That crazy rich guy kidnapped me and these three here saved me." She gestured to them with a smile.

Seokjin narrowed his eyes at her for a moment, concluding she spoke the truth. And frankly, he wasn't the slightest surprised by them doing something like that. Another reason he had a secret soft spot for these specific thieves, although he'd never admit that for obvious reasons.

Besides, it didn't matter. It didn't change the fact they were wanted criminals.

He turned to Jungkook and Skylar then with an amused expression. "Guess we just found out the answer to our question." Facing Soyeon with a nod again. "We'll take your testimony at the station."

"She won't get in any trouble, right?" Yoongi asked worriedly, glancing at her then at Seokjin. And Soyeon smiled at him in awe. Even with an agent holding him handcuffed and arresting him, he still bothered for her.

Seokjin oy rolled his eyes at the question. Lightly pushing Jimin out of the door, causing him to stumble against Soyeon. "Told you already, she won't."

And the four got escorted out.

»»»

"I'm gonna be honest," Skylar spoke up then after a long time of silence between her and Jungkook. They were sitting in the car, following the transporter with the captives and Seokjin through the narrow streets of Florence when she felt the urge to speak up her mind. "I got mixed feelings right now."

Jungkook, who had nodded off shortly due to the late hour, thinking that Jimin maybe wasn't so wrong in proposing postponing the arrest to the morning, stirred up by her voice. Glancing at her with knitted brows. "Huh, what? Why?"

"Because.. I don't know," the blonde sighed, stopping at a traffic light. "We had put them behind us, didn't we? I, at least, had accepted that with them settling in Taiwan, we wouldn't cross paths ever again. Even inspector Kim had accepted it and went to the research unit. And I was kinda glad we wouldn't have to deal with them anymore..?"

Jungkook hummed, stretching his arms. "Yeah, I get it. I also thought that chapter was closed." A yawn left his lips then. "I mean, what's the point in arresting them if they simply escape again anyway."

"Exactly.."

"But see, it's our job. We wouldn't do it right if we just let them slide."

Skylar's glance fell on the steering wheel. Not able to deny his words and yet, a tiredness overcame her. "You're right, I guess.."

"Hey, Sky, look at me," he said softly and her eyes slowly wandered to him. Seeing him grin boyishly. "You're the team leader now, don't forget that. Even if they escape again, it's up to you to make it as hard as possible for them to do so."

And the younger agent couldn't help but smile at this.

He always found a way to encourage and assure her whenever she doubted herself or the job. And she loved that about him, his never-ending enthusiasm.

She leaned over towards him then, placing a quick kiss on his cheek before the light turned back green. Quickly sitting back, she drove off. Ignoring Jungkook's astonished expression that was soon replaced by a mischievious smirk.

"During work? Thought that was frowned upon," he said, stifling a chuckle.

Skylar simply shrugged, smirking. "There's no one here to see us though."

The older guy sighed and leaned back with a chuckle. "Sky, Sky, Sky, since when are you so loosey-goosey? Did I finally get through to you?"

Peeking at him, a fond smile tucked on her lips as she turned into the street of the interpol branch office. "Maybe you did rub off on me a little bit over the years."

They arrived at the station. Assisting Seokjin in leading the thieves inside.

The loud noise of a phone ringing suddenly being heard. Making everyone look around when Jimin glanced at Soyeon over his shoulder, winking. "You should maybe pick up that call," he said with a lopsided smirk, before getting nudged further down the corridor.

Soyeon's eyes widened and she looked down. Realising the ringing was indeed coming from her. She patted over the blazer until coming across a cellphone in the pocket. Wondering if it had been there all along. "H-hello?"

"Jimin, whe- Who are you?" An upset sounding female voice answered on the other line. Soyeon blinked confused and lowered the phone to actually read the caller ID. 'Bella-baby'.

Her brows rose. This was Jimin's phone. When did he-?

She quickly turned away, continuing in a more hushed tone. "He's in a situation right now.. I'm Soyeon."

"Oh.. let me guess, they got arrested again?"

"Y-yeah."

"By pops?"

She was about to ask who Arabella meant, when she remembered them calling agent Kim like that. "Y-yeah, by him."

"Oh!" the older girl exclaimed excitedly, "Were Kookie and Skylar also there?"

Soyeok blinked, taken-aback. Not having expected such enthusiasm when talking about the people who arrested her boyfriend and his friends. "Ehm, yeah. Agent Jeon and Blake were also there."

"Aw, just like back in the days!"

Jimin watched her quickly excusing herself and rushing to the restrooms, fearing of any agents eavesdropping. And he smiled to himself, knowing exactly who the caller was when they were led through an office room with several desks. Spotting another two agents at a corner. The gang immediately recognising them from a few years ago.

"Ayy," Jimin laughed out with a wide smile, "I know you guys! Thanks for taking care of those idiots back then." 

Hoseok and Namjoon exchanged a glance when seeing the three thieves being brought into the back cells.

"Should I say 'you're welcome'?" Hoseok whispered irritated to Namjoon, to which his colleague only shook his head with a dismissive look.

"It was our job, we didn't do him a favour."

Hoseok nodded in relief, seeing Seokjin coming their way then. "So, apparently our mutual friend Felipe is now also involved in kidnapping," he laughed dryly, shaking his head as he pulled out a chair to take a seat.

Namjoon huffed at this new information, folding his strong arms in front of his chest. "That's quite the progress from mere art smuggling."

"And enough to hold something against him in exchange for info," Hoseok mumbled, "At least I hope so. He's currently our only potential source to getting closer to his business partners."

While the art smuggling part of Felipe Rossi's business fell under Seokjin, Skylar and Jungkook's department, the organised crime part fell under Hoseok's. And some specific parts of his business partners' crimes fell under Namjoon's special victims department. Resulting in the two partnering up with the robbery department again just like a few years ago.

"You think he'll sing though?" Seokjin wasn't fully convinced, doubting the plan would work out this easily. "According to the rumours that Morita isn't to be trifled with. Perhaps he'll prefer going to prison than snitching on him."

"Perhaps, but it's worth a try."

»»»

next chapter: 1.2 here

Don't forget to like, reblog & leave feedback!♡

It motivates me to keep writing :)

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

reading update

hello again, gamers. this month's reading is nearly as comics-heavy as the last one, which could either be a good thing or a bad thing depending on how you feel about Detective Comics Comics, but worry not: there are also some BUCKWILD novels on the list. Akwaeke Emezi in particular has been an absolute scamp and I'm excited to tell you about it, so let's get going.

what have I been reading?

Kaikeyi (Vaishnavi Patel, 2022) - this novel has been popping up on pretty much every list of Must Read Books of 2022, and I have to say that having read it, I think the hype is pretty well-deserved. in her immensely impressive debut novel Patel offers up a retelling of the story of Kaikeyi, a figure of the Ramayana who orders her heroic stepson Prince Rama to be banished into the forest for 14 years to prevent him from becoming king. I'll freely admit that I'm like... already a little burned out on the spate of #feminist adult retellings of the stories of women from various mythologies; it feels awfully heavy-handed and I'm generally not particularly impressed by the desire to project modern values onto stories that are older than dirt. Kaikeyi absolutely falls into this camp; our protagonist insists on having her brother train her in the ways of battle, and her conflict with her stepson is largely driven because he opposes the rights of women that she's been working so hard for. AND YET. I remain really charmed by everything Kaikeyi has to offer, from the fascinating form of magic our protagonist wields to the effortless intertwining of high fantasy and day-to-day politics. if you enjoyed the tone of Madeline Miller's Circe (which I think we can safely identify as patient zero for this current mythology kick) or the political thrills of S.A. Chakraborty's Daevabad Trilogy, I think you'll eat Kaikeyi up as eagerly as I did.

Batman: Dark Victory (Jeph Loeb and Tim Sale, 1999) - the direct sequel to The Long Halloween, which y'all may recall I fucking loved. and if you enjoyed a serial killer targeting one victim a month and leaving gimmicky clues at the crime scene in the Long Halloween, I have great news - in Dark Victory, a serial killer is once again targeting one victim a month and leaving gimmicky clues at the crime scene! and yet Dark Victory never feels repetitive, which I think is largely because it delves much more deeply into the Bruce Wayne side of things that The Long Halloween's tight monthly vignettes ever did. here we get to delve into Bruce's increasingly complicated relationship with Selina Kyle (they don't know each other's secret identities yet, and GOD does Loeb get some good dramatic irony out of that), the impact of Harvey Dent's Two-Face-ification on Bruce's morale, and - most importantly! - the death of the Flying Graysons and Dick's subsequent arrival into Bruce's life. incidentally, Dick is a fucking angry little gremlin of a child, and I deeply loved that for him. we also get to see the deceased Carmine Falcone's family struggling to hold onto their control over the city - a fight that's ultimately doomed to fail, as the costumed weirdos we all know and love rise up to take their place. Dark Victory is atmospheric and ambitious and juggles all of its storylines well, coming through months of roiling melancholy to give Bruce a hopeful start to the next chapter of his career. 10/10 from me, boys.

You Made a Fool of Death with Your Beauty (Akwaeke Emezi, 2022) - yes, like the Florence + the Machine song! I remember when Emezi was fretfully tweeting about making sure they were legally allowed to use that as their title, and I'm so beyond jazzed to have seen it come to fruition as they prove that they really are the master of every genre they turn their mind to. YMAFODWYB is a sharp departure from the poetic litfic of Freshwater and The Death of Vivek Oji and it WORKS, giving this contemporary explorations of love and life an evocative and richly-beating heart. I'm almost hesitant to tell y'all exactly what happens in this book because I was so shocked and delighted by the big swerve; do me a favor and don't read the blurbs if you decide to check it out, alright? suffice to say this: Our Heroine is Feyi Adekola, a young widow tentatively re-opening her heart to romantic connection five years after her husband's sudden death. whisked away to a gorgeous island for an incredible job opportunity granted to her by a friend who definitely wants to be more, Feyi finds herself forming an unexpected connection with someone who is DEFINITELY supposed to be off limits, and has to decide how much she's willing to risk for a second love. fun, flirty, life-affirming, and ruinously hot, this is THE ideal summer romance.

Pristdaddy (Patricia Lockwood, 2017) - between her debut novel No One Is Talking About This and this remarkable memoir, Patricia Lockwood has firmly secured a place as one of my absolute favorite writers this year. she does things with language that make me dizzy with envy that is outweighed only by my delight; I could no more begrudge her talent than get angry at a firework for its splendor. this memoir is rooted in the year Lockwood and her husband had to stay with her off-kilter Catholic family - including the titular priestdaddy - after falling on unexpected financial hardship, interspersed with recollections from Lockwood's unconventional upbringing. Lockwood is devastatingly funny and relentless in her critique of the Catholic church and her own loved ones; it's difficult to describe exactly what reading this book is like, except to say that you will alternate with some frequency between chuckling warmly and staring into the distance feeling quite somber and small. I cannot recommend it enough to anyone who likes words.

Catwoman: When In Rome (Jeph Loeb and Tim Sale, 2005) - the third and final entry into Loeb and Sale's trilogy, as it were; a sort of midquel that takes place during the events of Dark Victory when Selina gets tired of Bruce's horseshit and absconds to Italy for a bit. she's on the search for proof that Carmine Falcone was her biological father, and has brought the Riddler along for assistance - what could possibly go wrong? as it turns out, pretty much fucking everything. if you like to see a girlboss winning this is NOT the run for you; Selina is having a pretty heinous time from start to finish and very little actually works out in her favor. she's been framed for murder; Eddie is a grotty little pervert at every opportunity; and someone seems to be supplying Italian mobsters with weapons straight out of the Gotham rogues gallery to use against her. oof! but despite all that the series never feels needlessly mean-spirited towards Selina, and I really liked her narrative voice - after being largely enigmatic and inscrutable for most of the Long Halloween and Dark Victory she gets an internal monologue that's unexpectedly informal and playful. it's extremely stylish and a comparatively lighthearted break from the moody atmosphere of Long Halloween and Dark Victory, and my biggest complaint is literally only that it's so short compared to the other two.

Motherland Fatherland Homelandsexuals (Patricia Lockwood, 2014) - what, you thought after I loved Priestdaddy that much I WASN'T going to rush out to read Lockwood's poetry, too? nice try. I was especially eager since she specifically discusses this volume in Priestdaddy, with an entire chapter dedicated to the reactions to a specific poem called "Rape Joke" going viral. Lockwood writes poems in a breathlessly conversational way that has me absolutely obsessed, and I'm gently placing her in "poets who don't make me feel like I'm too dumb to read poetry" category along with Tommy Pico and Anne Carson.

Black Feminist Thought: Knowledge, Consciousness, and the Politics of Empowerment (Patricia Hill Collins, 1990) - I was chipping away at this one for a LONG time, readers - I had at least one false start and had to put the book down to come back again at a later date for another attempt. and I'm so glad I did, because Collins made me feel like my brain was getting a workout in the best way. woe betide me for not being appropriately appreciate when I got to read theory as part of a class, because I would kill to have a room of people who are legally required to discuss new ideas with me now. reading Collins' work was an incredible experience of alternately nodding as I encountered ideas I recognized, letting my eyes widen and I encountered ideas I thought I recognized and gaining deeper insight than I've ever been privy to before, and a feeling of deep serene solidarity as I drew parallels between Collins' observations of Black women's political organizing and my own observations as a white women deeply entrenched in the queer community. there's something extremely dear to me about finding commonality across communities and a 30 year difference; a reminder that we are all, genuinely, meant to be allies to one another in the relentless struggle against oppression. I was highlighting so many passages of this book that I think it's like 90% yellow now.

Jade City (Fonda Lee, 2017) - the winner of a reading poll, by virtue of someone chiming in to tell me that they didn't like Jade City and therefore ensuring that it won by default. (how are folks not getting this yet? I'm not asking what you think of books I want to read; just vote for something else if you hated one. christ.) I'm delighted to report that despite winning based on spite Jade City was an EXCELLENT read and exactly what I needed to end my fantasy drought. this is slick, stylish martial arts/mobster/urban fantasy/family drama story about a trio of siblings in the fictional country of Kekon, heirs to an organized crime empire powered by magical jade that gives wearers superhuman abilities at the cost of, potentially, their health and sanity. Lan is the current head of the family; his rakish brother Hilo the head of the clan's warriors; and their sister Shae has just returned to the city of Janloon after completing college abroad and swearing off her familial legacy; their adopted cousin Anden prepares to graduate and take his place fighting for the clan. excellent news if, like me, you love intrigue and maneuvering in your fantasy - there are plenty of whip-fast scenes of chaotic, magic-fueled violence and swordplay, but just as many board meetings and political maneuverings; one of Shae's most valuable skills is not her ability to wield jade but her foreign business degree. I think this is maybe Succession for fantasy people, and I for one am lapping it up.

A Tiny Upward Shove (Melissa Chadburn, 2022) - oh, readers. I have very mixed feelings about this one. right off the bat I do want to say that Chadburn's sorrowful writing is unquestionable gorgeous; I am in absolutely no doubt about her abilities to tell a story and don't want anyone to think that I am. but good lord, at a certain point this does start to feel like an endless trudge through misery porn. Chadburn's debut follows Marina Salles, a mixed-race Black and Filipino woman who is addicted to drugs and killed by a john while selling sex. upon her death Marina is overtaken by an aswang, a creature that has lurked in the women of her family for generations and seeks to complete Marina's unfinished business. what ensues is an absolutely dismal biography of Marina, her foremothers, the man who killed her, and the girl she loved. it's a devastating account of very real factors that contribute to people being marginalized and neglected - familial separation, parental abuse, neglect, sexual assault, indifferent social services, and so on - and these topics do absolutely deserve to be written about with attention and care, but oh BOY does reading it begin to feel cumbersome. and I say this as someone with an exquisitely high tolerance for exceedingly bleak fiction! I'll also say that I didn't realize until the very end that the man who murders Marina is, like, a real guy who was arrested in 2002 and is believed to be one of the most prolific serial killers in Canadian history. far be it from me to tell anyone what they can and cannot write, and I certainly understand the fascination that such a story might hold for an author, but there's something that just doesn't sit especially well for me personally about making up an original character to insert very intimately into such a horrific tragedy. mixed feelings here, lads.

Batman: Their Dark Designs (James Tynion IV, Guillem March, and Tomeau Morey, 2020) - "Makenzie, isn't this the one with -" with the Riddler's fucked up meth spine? yeah. yeah it is. worth noting that for all this hullabaloo the Riddler actually has precious little to do in this story; he's sort of a minor nuisance who just really needs a nap. anyway, wary as I was about Tynion after getting burned bad by Batman & Robin Eternal, this turned out to be a supremely engrossing story about how Catwoman, the Joker, the Penguin, and the Riddler once kinda sorta made a deal with the devil very early in their careers, and how that's coming back to bite them in a real big way. you all know that I hate when comic books or their adaptations try to play coy about what they are in the self-deprecating, "well, THAT just happened!" way, but this story walks a somewhat more subtle line that I actually found pretty tasty. Tynion nods to the way that Batman's rogues have evolved to be increasingly dark and deranged across the decades and offers an in-universe explanation as to what may have driven the shift, delivered largely through the flashback of a nostalgic and remorseful Selina. there are moments I'm not crazy about - Bruce and Slade Wilson having an extremely on the nose argument about whether or not it's Batman's fault that there are so many freaks in Gotham is eyeroll-worthy - but they're well worth overlooking for the propulsive plot and sweet nods to nearly a century of continuity. (Catwoman, Penguin, Joker, and Riddler are referred to as the United Underworld, ala the 1966 Adam West Batman movie; the Riddler's hideout has a billboard referencing his debut episode of Batman: The Animted Series, etc. I'm a sucker for that shit.) listen, I liked it enough that I having WILLINGLY ordered a comic called fucking JOKER WAR to see where Tynion is going next with this; I cannot explain how profoundly I would normally be turned off by a comic book containing the title "Joker" or "war," let alone both at the same time. Detective Comics Comics continues to hold me tight in its sweaty, sweaty grasp.

A Queer History of Fashion: From the Closet to the Catwalk (edited by Valerie Steele, 2013) - this one is actually not nearly as exciting as it sounds, and was read primarily as research for a documentary I'll be working on with a friend. this essay collection was published in conjunction with an exhibit at the Fashion Institute of Technology and isn't a bad place to start reading about the history of queer fashion, per se, as long as you're extremely aware going in that what you're reading is preoccupied primarily with what middle- and upper-class white queers have been up to throughout history. the oversights are many - there absence of an entire essay covering ball culture is baffling, and the two chapters on lesbian fashion contradict each other with spectacular aplomb. the second lesbian chapter is particularly delightful to me because of the section in which the author attempts to describe lesbian BDSM scenes with all the abstracted confusion of someone examining alien life beneath a microscope for the first time. the only essay I really couldn't pick at is the concluding piece by Jonathan D. Katz, "Queer Activist Fashion," which offers a concise timeline of the rise of t-shirts and buttons as a means of communicating political goals and causing deliberate spectacle during queer demonstrations. I liked it so much that I actually tried to link it here, but damn if I can find it anywhere online.

in conclusion, I'm currently rereading Gideon the Ninth, to be followed by Harrow, in anticipation of Nona's release in September, and waiting for a perpetually impractical number of books I've placed on hold. yeehaw.

[sxveme-2]

blueberry pancakes // bucky barnes

MASTERLIST

Description: A single mother. Juggling being a mom, a full time pediatrician, and a difficult ex who believed now would be the best time to finally be a father. A soldier ripped out of time. Ex-assassin turned superhero. Learning how to balance a new domestic life with handling demons of his past, while facing the trials of the future. a love story began over something as simple as chocolate chip pancakes with hidden blueberries.

Disclaimer: I do not own any original Marvel characters! All canon plots and canon characters belong to Marvel Comics and Marvel Studios. This is an original work. You may not publish it anywhere else

Status: Unedited

Note: Takes place after endgame. I have elected to ignore Tony's death and Steve's leaving. Did not happen. Quick Reminder! My works are only published here, AO3 and on Wattpad, thank you.

Chapter Twenty Four: The One Where He Snaps

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 3174

   Lily knew that Bucky had an unpredictable job. It wasn't a standard 9-5 with a set schedule for the rest of his time in the position like Lily. He didn't necessarily have 'vacation days', or time off. He was technically always on the clock or always on call. But she also knew that he was aware of how important promises were to her. And he had made one to her, and swore that there would be no interruptions. Lily was proud of him, and the job that he did, but the selfish part of her wished that just for one weekend, he wasn't a superhero. That he wasn't The Winter Soldier, and that he was just Bucky. Bucky Barnes, boyfriend to Lily Osborne. Male role model to Hunter Osborne. Even just someone who had a standard job, one that was like hers, 9-5, same work day everyday.

But she knew he loved what he did. And how it helped him satisfy that need for redemption because of his past. She respected that, but that selfish side of her just would not quiet as she stared at the man in front of her.

"Yeah...He's in the living room," she swallowed, shooting a glance over to the supersoldier, "Come on in Sam."

Lily did a sidestep and extended her arm to greet the other Avenger into the cabin. Her breathing had picked up slightly and her throat felt dry. If it were a simple mission, she was sure Sam would have just called. Even texted. Instead, he showed up in person, with a serious look. Something Lily wasn't used to seeing on him. Shutting the door, Lily spared another look at Bucky before walking into the kitchen, filling the kettle once again. Her movements weren't as flowy and graceful as usual, and followed a more so aggressive and clearly annoyed pattern. Anytime she placed something down, it held more of a strength. It didn't go unnoticed by Bucky either. He kept sending her apologetic eyes as him and Sam talked in hushed breaths.

After pouring Sam his tea, Lily placed a few of the cookies Bucky had picked up at the grocery store the night prior on a plate and walked back into the living room where they spoke. Handing Sam the mug, Lily avoided eye contact with the man she was meant to be spending a romantic weekend alone with. After placing the cookies on the table, Lily grabbed her coat and hat, slipped on her boots, and walked out the back door. She didn't intend to close the door as aggressively as she did, but her instincts took over.

Lily watched the sun dip briefly below the treeline as her breath danced in front of her. She cupped her hands around her own mug that she had grabbed before leaving the cabin, and processed what was happening. Bucky had sat before her the day before they left, and took her hands into his own, and swore that nothing would interrupt them. That he had made sure of it. That there were no missions that would require him or have anything to do with him for that matter. The blonde scoffed as she recalled the words, shaking her head and dipping it down lower, staring at her feet against the white of the snow on the deck.

The sound of the door opening behind her caused Lily to lift her head, turning it to glance at who was joining her. It was the opposite of what she expected. Sam stood there with a sorry look on his face, walking forward and leaning on the porch bannister next to the blonde. Neither spoke for a moment, and just stared out at the lowering sun. Her heart fell slightly when she realized Bucky didn't even come out to talk to her himself, and probably sent Sam instead.

"You know he doesn't want to go," Sam began, glancing over at her, "he just spent the entire time we talked begging me to take someone else."

"And why does he have to go?" Lily questioned, eyes not faltering.

"Sometimes some things won't rest easy. And have a habit of returning." Sam replied, folding his fingers together,

This caught Lily's attention. She turned her head to the superhero and placed her mug down on a clear part of the banister. Her blonde eyebrow cocked up as she studied the solemn and far off look in Sam's face. His eyebrows were furrowed and mind seemed to be racing, as if he was struggling to find the words. She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the wooden banister, trying to silently coax the real reason with proper details from the typically blunt man. She had a way of doing it. It was something Bucky had coined 'the mother stare'. Anytime she gave it to Hunter, or even Bucky for that matter, whatever either may have been hiding came out within seconds. But Sam seemed to have more composure.

"I wish I could tell you, Lily," Sam continued, "I do. But with this...the less you know the better."

"Oh yeah, quite the way to comfort the girlfriend," Lily scoffed, turning her attention back to the treeline, "so what. I go back home and worry like the dotting girlfriend. What do I tell Rose? Gen? What am I supposed to tell my son." She snapped, voice coming out harsher than she expected it to.

"No." He stated simply.

Rolling her eyes, Lily turned to him once again, "No? What do you mean 'no', Sam?"

"You're not going home."

-----

She wasn't a violent or angry person. Farthest thing from it. Lily was docile, timid, and had a good control over her outward emotions. Especially that of anger or frustration. But lord did she want to absolutely lose it on both of the men that stood in the bedroom. Bucky hadn't spoken a word to Lily ever since Sam had arrived. Instead, he merely had a stone cold look on his face with eyebrows knitted together. Lily could barely look at him as she finished putting her duffel bag back together with the clothing she had packed for what she expected to be a romantic getaway for her and her boyfriend.

But even the most timid have a breaking point.

Throwing a shirt into her bag, Lily turned to Bucky, "So this is how it'll be hm? You just aren't going to tell me anything? Great. Now I have to pack up my son and everything and move into an Avengers Compound because of something I don't even know!" The blonde exclaimed.

Bucky nodded at Sam, and the latter left the room and shut the door behind him. Tears welled up in Lily's eyes as Bucky walked forward. He reached out to take her hands in his but she pulled them away, putting the last of her clothing into the bag and zipping it closed. The air in the room was heavy and thick, neither knowing what exactly to do or say. Lily was furious with the entire situation that was playing out, no even per say at Bucky as much anymore, just...everything. It had started perfectly, the weekend. They laughed and talked and learned even more about one another, only to have it end with her learning that she wasn't safe to be at her own house.

"I don't know what you want me to say, Buck," Lily sighed, dropping onto the quilt covered bed, "You promised me- "

"I know I promised you a work free weekend- "

"No!" She exclaimed, looking up at him, "You promised me we would always be safe. Always. That you wouldn't put us in danger in any way."

"Doll..."

"And why can't you tell me what is happening!?" She continued, "If this is putting my son in danger I have the right to know what's going on!"

Bucky moved the woman's duffle bag and took a seat on the bed next to her. She avoided his gaze, but his fingers tugged her chin to look at him. Tears fell down her cheeks, plump and swollen as she stared at him. Her nostrils flared and her eyes continued to water. There was so much going on in her mind that she could barely put into words. She had a suspicious hunch as to why they weren't telling her what was going on, but everything inside of her rejected the thought of it. She feared her parents had done something again, caused wreckage or hurt more people. The only thing that brought her slight comfort was the feeling of Bucky's rough fingers gripping her chin gingerly, staring into her glossy eyes.

"I think you know." Bucky whispered, wiping a tear from her cheekbone with his thumb.

She swallowed the lump that formed in her throat, and her eyes fluttered closed. Lily wished sometimes she wasn't as intuitive. The moment Sam told her that somethings don't rest easy, it had clicked in her head. They were trying to make sure that they didn't go for Lily or Hunter. From the previous run in, she figured it was more so for Hunter's safety and Lily's sanity. But that didn't stop the raging fire that burned deep within Lily's stomach. She wanted to help, because she knew her parents. She knew their personalities inside and out, and she knew that if anything, she could get through to her dad.

"What'd they do?" She choked out, opening her wet eyes.

"They escaped. And are partnered with an engineering firm that has been rumoured to be looking into genetic engineering and mutations using natural resources...something your parents are known for. The natural resources part." He added in the end, a weak smile forming on his lips.

"...how long will you be gone?"

"Not long."

-----

Lily stood outfront of the Avengers compound with a heavy heart. Two suitcases were gripped in her hands as she bit down on her bottom lip. Hunter and Rose apparently had already arrived, leaving Lily to be the last. Sam and Bucky stood behind her, the latter's arm wrapped around her waist. Lily hadn't said a word the entire way down from the cabin, mostly because she was mostly at a loss for words. Her chest was tight and throat felt ten times smaller, and her stomach had been in knots. Everything about the situation made Lily feel queasy, both with fear for Bucky, and anxiety about her family. She didn't know the extent of her parents' mercy, mostly because she hadn't even been aware of the devious things they had been engrossed in. But she felt that most of her worry about her family wasn't necessarily surrounding her parents, but Cedar. She knew her brother. She had helped raise him. Lily knew he wasn't truly capable of these things.

She wanted to help him most of all.

"Let me come with you." She blurted out, looking up at Bucky.

"What?" Bucky questioned, eyebrows furrowing.

"I know my parents. I can help. There won't be a need for violence, I can talk to them." She rambled, letting go of the suitcases and taking Bucky's hands into her own.

"No," he stated simply, shaking his head, "No you're not coming. Lily this isn't as easy as you think. You're staying here, you'll be safe here."

"They're my parents Buck!" Lily exclaimed, "I know them best. I lived with them for eighteen years of my life! I know how they think."

"She may have a point." Sam muttered, earning a deadly glare from the man in front of the blonde.

She knew it was a longshot, and it was most likely just the adrenaline talking. But Lily wanted to do something, instead of sitting at the compound like a sitting duck. Hiding away from her own family. She knew these people better than Bucky, or Sam, or anyone they're working with. Whether she admitted the slight neglectful nature they had, she knew who Alicia and Abel Osborne were, inside out. She knew her mothers ticks and her fathers nervous habits. She knew for a fact she could be an asset for the mission. Because she was an Osborne, the eldest one at that. The one who had been around her parents the longest, and coherently saw them at their lowest.

"No. No I'm not debating this, you're staying here," Bucky said once more, voice firm, "It's not safe. I won't let you be in harm's way. I promised you that."

"You also promised her a romantic weekend away." Sam chimed in.

Both Lily and Bucky turned to look at Sam with an expression of 'really?' printed on their faces. Sam simply shrugged and raised his hands innocently. Though the fact was true, it was not the right time for the comment. Lily raised her hand and whacked the man on the arm, shaking her head and turning her attention back to Bucky.

"You can't deny it's true. I know them, Buck. Better than anyone that will be on this mission."

"No, Lily. You're not coming. End of discussion." He concluded, turning and walking towards the compound, leaving Sam and Lily in the parking lot.

"And you sleep with him." Sam scoffed, a small chuckle leaving his lips.

Turning her head, Lily stared at him with the same expression she had given him earlier. Earning the exact same reaction. Shaking her head, Lily gripped her suitcases and followed Bucky towards the compound.

-----

"Why're we here?" Hunter asked as Lily finished unpacking her clothing. She knew he would ask, but honestly, Lily didn't really have an answer. What was she to tell a twelve year old who had already been through as much as he had? That his moms boyfriend was off to handle his grandparents evil and misguided antics?

Sighing, the blonde beckoned the boy over to her bed, taking a seat and opening her arms for him. Hunter sat beside her and curled into his mother's embrace. She figured he somewhat knew what was going on, and was simply looking for reassurance from his mother. But Lily could barely understand the situation herself. Bucky and the others were across the compound, discussing the mission, leaving Lily with the condensed amount of information she had managed out of her boyfriend. She looked down at her son and smiled with her lips pursed, running her hand through his hair.

"There's just some stuff going on right now buddy, and Bucky thinks it's safer if you and I stay here with Auntie Rose and Joey for a bit. Just to make sure no one gets hurt." Lily nodded, watching as his face fell once again.

"Why aren't you telling me?" He asked flatly, eyebrows furrowed.

She shook her head, "Hunter that's not fair. I'm trying to do what's best here. Just trust me, okay?"

"No!" He exclaimed, jumping to his feet, "Mom tell me! I deserve to know!"

"Do not raise your voice at me, Hunter," she replied, voice calm and collected, "Have I ever done wrong by you?"

"I don't know. You never really told me what happened between you and Dad. And I never asked. You never told me what's going on with Uncle Cedar. You didn't tell me what was happening with Grandma and Grandpa! Bucky has told me more about himself these last few months than you have in the past years!" He exclaimed.

An arrow shot itself into Lily's heart. Hunter was fairly open about what he was feeling, and not once had Lily realized these things plagued his mind. She felt that he wasn't old enough to know what was really going on with the things he had listed, but he was observant. He knew something was wrong. The tears that welled in his eyes made everything disappear around Lily. She had done that. It was her fault he was crying. Because she couldn't face the reality, therefore she couldn't tell her own son.

Standing, Lily reached for the boy, only to have him run out of the room towards his own across the hall. Lily stood in shock with her mouth open and jaw slacked. Tears brimmed her eyes as she stared at the door that had just been slammed, knowing what she had caused was standing behind it. Her heart violently shook along with her hands, mind going blank of all happiness and filling those voids with nothing but pain and regret. Why didn't she tell him? Was it because she was protecting him? Was it because she didn't think he could handle it? Or because she couldn't? Her knees feel weak and met with the hardwood of the floor beneath her. She grabbed at her chest and scratched the porcelain skin, attempting to halt her heart from the rapid beats that sounded like drums in her ears.

Lily really thought she had been a good mother. That her and Hunter had a good and open communication line. That there weren't any major issues beneath the seemingly perfect relationship. She hadn't seen just how much everything was hurting him. A part of her resented the fact that Bucky had been brought up, and the claims Hunter made. It broke her heart. She just wanted him to be okay, to not have to see the true evil in the world. But he saw anyways, sometimes more than she did. And Lily couldn't protect him from it, or hide it away.

She didn't even notice Joey enter her room and curl into her side, pawing at her thigh gently as a way to gain her attention. She instinctively dropped her hand to rest on his paw, the feeling of his fur soothing her slightly. But the heaving continued, and her throat felt tight and dry. Tears streaked her cheeks as she relived the words her son spat at her just moments before. She only snapped out of it when the cool feeling of metal rested on her cheek, snapping her out of the continuous loop.

"Doll, love what's wrong?" He whispered. But she couldn't speak. Words wouldn't form in her throat and her mind could barely function enough to even begin to think what she would say, "Baby I can't help if you don't talk to me."

Lily stared at his cool blue eyes, eyebrows furrowed and chest heaving. Small, inaudible noises escaped her mouth as she continued to dry heave. Bucky pursed his lips and stood, picking her up carefully and laying her on the bed. He knew not to push, and to simply sit there with her for a few minutes. He had shut the door behind him when he entered, and curled the blonde into his chest. His flesh hand stroked her hair as she buried her face deep into the crook of his shoulder, breathing in the woody and musky scent he had. Finally, she violently shook her head and sat up with a new mission in her head.

"I have to tell Hunter everything. He needs to know."

[dyker-farmer]

Ok this was supposed to be a quick draw and a description to go with, that blew into a full chapter and now it's also on Ao3 SO happy reading ig idk

I never see Shane works that don't go all in for romance nor explore the more realistic ugly parts of recovery, and I kind of crave That TM. So let me have at it too with the self-insert whump mumbo jumbo; no romo version.

Set post-8 hearts event, Farmer Uidelsib is two years or so in, full house built and married to Emily. They/them pronouns, same as me.

Diverges from then on, Shane-centric from an outside POV for the most part.

[[MORE]]

Take that can away if you can.

Gulp it down. Chapter 1/2/3/4

There's a few to-know to survive life in society, in the valley; there's no good way to comment on the age nor weight of both resident housewives, you can't say no to Evelyn's homemade cookies- and why would you, you fool-, you do not fight at the Saloon or you'll get no cheese anymore on your pizza and only sparkling water for drinks, and-

And you don't mess with Shane's alcohol related ritual.

Except I did, that night, because you do that, when your two-years long friendship with the guy taught you better than letting his impulses overcome yours, when your buddy is trying to recover from teenage long-lasting into early adulthood, trauma-enhanced heavy addiction, and you know, you know tomorrow he'll feel like absolute shit and question his right to therapy the moment he'll stop his pounding skull from splitting. Wonders what a three-dosage paracetamol can do. 

At least he doesn't drink it out anymore.

So yeah, when you're in my shoes, you get that Joja store-bought crap out of Shane's hand, and you brace yourself for the incoming lash out.

The first fractions of seconds are always those to look closely into most. It's only a glimpse, but before the scowl slips on like a well-worn boxing glove ready to strike, there is always this open page I learned I needed to decipher as quick as I could.

Tonight, it's heartbreaking. When I peck his forehead- doting big sibling habits die hard, even when you're actually the youngest of the pair- the eyes I catch looking at me are so confused and bare of any emotion, except for the sorrow that goes beer-soaked tears, it pangs. I get used to the breakdowns, working in the fields I do when I'm off the farm's, but it's not the same when it's a friend.

When I straighten back, offensive beverage in hand, it's already gone in a flinch, away from the empty space behind the chair and onto the table, as he snarls.

"Wha- giv'me back- 's mine!" I don't know how much he drunk before he met up with me, but from the slurring, it's a Lot. A season and a half into sobriety. That's harsh.

I ignore him and walk behind him, pondering where to put the beer for now.

"Y-you can't just do that! It's my booze I got with m'money, not some- who d'you think you are?-" He sputters indignantly, angry tears fewer than the sad ones but still there. He tries to turn around and grab behind his back, but the wild movement is way off and only gets the chair to nearly topples down. I rush in time to stabilize it, and profit off the moment to set a strong hand on his shoulder.

"I can just do that, 'cus it's my house I got with my money, and I think I'm your pal who knows when you've had enough. Dude, I trust you to be an adult, but minutes before, you were already so torched I had to keep your neck upright so you didn't faceplant into the table, and you nearly just kissed my floor good evening. Not to mention you clung to my arms the whole way from the little entry stairs to the kitchen because, quoting, 'If I don't I'll fall in the hole and won't get up'."

I turn to the fridge again, going to open it, before I think better of it. Likely enough, we'll both forget it was there in the first place, it'll stink up my fridge- it's Joja's- and it'll be money out of Shane's pocket for nothing. I set it on the counter, with the rest of the pack. He'll put it to cool down when he's back to Marnie's. Or he won't, probably. 

That's not a worry for now.

When I caught up with him, it was a few feet below my doorstep; he'd probably slipped up trying to climb the three steps up to it, and settled for it. He was nursing that same can, muttering to himself, head down, curled up on himself. Except for that leg sticked out, he probably hurt it when he fell, I'll have to look at that and work on it if it's too swollen. Hopefully that'll spare us from a visit to Harvey's.

Bad memories. Not mine, and it's warm and not raining outside, but. Déjà-vu.

Anyways, he looked the picture of "help I've fallen and I can't get up- and even if I can I won't because Fuck You", and it's been a hassle to have him cooperate. But when I asked if he wanted to leave, he shook his head with a fervor no somnolent drunk should have. That resulted in a lovely streak of vomit down the wall right next to the door. That's also for later. If Eryza doesn't lap it up. Ew. This cat's never predictable.

Now, he's staring at his hands, sitting at my table, contemplating something too far down for me to see- or maybe just zoning out with a sleeping brain. Then he mumbles. "Sorry."

I get back to the table and sit at arm's length across of him. "Nah, 's okay. I don't mind being a helping hand or touchy-feely, must be the frog-eater in me. Not for the helping part." I'd chuckle but my quip falls on deaf ears.

I go to put my hand over his. When he doesn't blink at it, I try and shake a reply out of him, gently. He startles and hawkeyes our joined fingers. When he's finally looking at me, I raise a single eyebrow. He doesn't say anything, but when he pulls back his arm, I let him. We both straighten up, and it's hard to keep up the eye contact.

"So…" There's a heavy air on us. Suddenly, like the last year didn't happen, we're sitting a stride away of each other, and yet it feels like he's all the way back to the forest, looking down at waves.

"Do you want me to do something?" I bend myself a little closer to him, not moving otherwise.

He puts his head in his hands, shivering. Can't tell if it's the AC or his system kicking the alcohol out, or itself, in stress. I think I hear something, but it might as just be his shuddering breath.

"Shane" I insist, voice level, not pressing. "I need words. I want to help, I truly don't mind, but I need words to know what to do." He's never shown signs of going nonverbal before. If he does, I'll improvise. Until then… I need words.

Time ticks slowly as we wait. Then, with great effort and deep fatigue, he drags his palms up from under his nose to his temple, spreading some snot and wet tears across his face from his scrunched shut eyes. Lips trembling but finally showing, that attempt to let out a sound that's not too garbled. He coughs, sniffles a bit, breathe in again, sounding like a sick dog, and blows through gritted teeth before his jaws go slack. Eyes still closed, he whispers, and I have to lower myself some more toward his crouched form to catch it.

"Can I get something to drink…?" His voice is hoarse.

The demand could be comical, if we were into sour humor. And we usually are. But right now, we're not finding the joke in the lines. I stand silently, and as I walk to the fridge again, I let my hand brush his shoulder- same spot as before.

I take a minute to choose, look into the pantry. When I'm back at the table with my items of choice, he's still sitting there, his cheek is cushioned on his arms, face hidden from view. His shoulder, except for the occasional tremor, rise and fall in rythm with his snores. Breaks my heart to interrupt that, but not really. Hangovers are mean bitches with the sharpest nail art on the blackest of boards.

"Psst, dude. C'mon." I rustle his hair backward. He hates when I do that, says it tickles, and it makes him sneeze. So I obligatory do it once a day if I can. Let's say today's my late quota for the last four days I haven't seen him.

He gruffly tells me to kindly refrain from such pleasantries, and raise bleary eyes back up at the table. I can also guess he tried to bat a hand at me, but his coordination is off and he slaps himself lightly on the ear. Then he glares bewildered at his hand for a few seconds, obviously insulted. I profit of this moment to grab a small basin from under the sink, on second thought.

When he brings his attention back to me, I'm sitting again. Between us, a jug of fresh milk from this morning, a small sack of peppers, and a juice carafe sit aside a green glass bottle. There's also some bread, mostly for me to munch on. Because, hmmm dough. He squints at it all, especially at the bottle. Probably trying to read the label.

"Yeah no, didn't get you one of my best wine, not sorry."

"Hot pepper… juice?" He looks at the actual peppers next to it. "With actual peppers?" And then I get the squint too.

"Hmph, I know you like your elongated hell tomatoes, man, what can i say."

At that, a feeble snort.

I decide that it is the highlight victory of my soirée.

"Welp, have at it." I gesture to the half-liter liquor glass right by his left.

He fumbles with the drinks and some splashes around, but I lay back on my chair, arms crossed, letting him do his thing. While I don't hold back from growing downright doting on him when I got to- or even when I don't- I don't see how more devotion right now would be not smothering. He can break my fancy glass cups if he wants and spill my milk, so long he doesn't cut himself or cry over it.

Now, you could be thinking that plain water would have done the trick just fine, if not better, in rehydrating him. Here's the thing, though; going from booze to tasteless liquid, for Shane, that's a sure way to puking his heart out. And I'd rather not have us deal with an acid bile throat burn on top of near alcohol poisoning. Sorry to not spare you the squeamish details, but his oesophagus is pretty sensitive ever since that stomach pumping back at the clinic. Hot fiery hell fruits he can do just fine, with relative moderation and hydratation- hence the milk and juice- but liquor bursting its way back from his guts? Nuh uh. 

It had taken lots of coaxing, but he'd explained the plain tastes, or lackthereof, were very hard for him to deal with, especially when contrasting with strong ones like beers and whiskeys. I'd shackle it to gustative hypostimulation, but I don't know enough about him that way to say. He'd said sparkling water was a good compromise.

But I don't have sparkling water, because I do not like suffering.

I might buy a pack for when he visits though.

And I do know a handful about him already. Shackle that to perceptiveness and a stubborn streak on top of a year and so long camaraderie.

And having a certain uncontrollable fear of failing to act quick the next time coped with by accumulating information and patterns compulsively.

I shake my head to focus on the present again. He's switched from juices to soaking bread in milk to eat it small portion after small portion. He pauses in mid-bite when he catches me staring. He's still hunched on himself and red-faced and a tad bloated. His cheeks are drying and he's blown his nose. I smile calmly. Worst of the storm passed, unless I screw up and blow it.

"Ywou wan' chom'?" He offers a dripping piece of bread. In moments like this, when he's sobering but not quite, the resemblance with Jas are unmistakable. The glint in his reddened eyes that open wide, and his blank-but-not-quite wondering expression, it's all here to paint a scrutinizing but vulnerable picture of tired but bright minds.

"Nah thanks. You done with that milk?"

"...Sure." He eyes it, wary. He knows where this is going, and he doesn't like it. I take the drink off the table, and his gaze follows my movement until I bring it to my lips.

He frowns. A silent warning. 

And as I lock onto him with a dead stare, not blinking a millisecond, I down the rest of the 2 liters jug in three, five gulps. I even take the time to lick my new mustache away, and close my mouth with a click of my tongue.

His expression is the macabre marriage of beffudled horror and pure affliction, disgust if you will. The face of someone who doesn't hate milk, but has grown out of it enough to not be able to live off the stuff like the brave souls I'm apart of. And probably with reason, as I actually can't, like most 20+ years old, digest the liquid in large amount. But I smile like a smug cat, perfectly content.

Cats really can't digest milk once adults, it's all social mythos.

We silently judge and fuck with each other like that for a while more, as more time passes, until the room's elephant gets it all humid with its prancing around. Enough that tears and nervous sweats start again, for no apparent reasons but the residual anxiety from the whole chain of events that led to this.

"I think we should talk about this."

--- to be continued.